#/ its really just a journey in someone finding who they are and what they stand for.

[fishnapple]

THE MAP TO YOUR SOUL, YOUR DEEPEST SELF INSIDE

A simple map to help you find who you really are inside. The reading will have 4 parts: the focus, the obstacle, the gift, the guide.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

CUBE 1

The focus: Balancing opposites

It's very straightforward and direct. Your deepest self yearns to express itself openly, without masks or veils. You will find authenticity through the words you say and the beauty you cultivate. Your identity is not meant to stay in one place, stagnating but to constantly evolve, transform and refine. This can be expressed through your thoughts, your physical appearance, as within so without. Kind words and self-love go a long way. You're here to learn the way of being independent, of self-authority, standing up for yourself without being selfish.

Life's various responsibilities, the burden of being and existing, the confusions of bonds. Those are the forces that pull you in many directions, away from a simple truth: yourself, the one you've built, the one you are, the one you want to be. The moment you can be at peace with yourself will be the moment you've arrived at home, inside you.

The obstacle: You tend to lose yourself in the connections with other people. The sense of self is dissolved by the desire to connect with the other person. You might find yourself morphed into various identities with each connection. You're one person in one relationship, but you're a different person in another relationship. Relationships shape your identities. There would be a point when you're confused about who you really are, without other people. This is a challenge for you, to find your sense of self outside the connections with people. To have a stable core no matter what relationship you're in.

The gift: Your obstacle is also one of your gifts. You have the talent to connect and understand people. Navigating relationship dynamics come naturally for you. Negotiating, harmonising, understanding. So use this gift to understand yourself too. To see yourself, standing alone, independently and connect with that person. You can be with other people without sacrificing your autonomy and independence.

The guide: Find out what can spark your joy and what makes you want to act, what are you wishing for. Write them down and see the pattern, the interconnection between them. The fastest and safest path to your soul is to constantly seek expansion of your mind. If you're feeling lost, trust in your intuition and the signs given to you at the present moment. You heard someone mentioned a book, a movie, a place? You suddenly get a desire to learn something? You might want to note them down and try them for yourself. Hidden treasures of knowledge are always just around the corner. And through these seemingly random encounters, you've already been treading on the path to your soul.

CUBE 2

The focus: Freedom of creativity & uniqueness

You have a powerful presence that can touch people in a subconscious way. There's a light, a force that is constantly swirling, rolling, unfolding. The question is, how can that light exist among the sea of people without blinding others or without dimming itself? A star is bright and blinding when someone looks at it alone and closely, a star is also bright but its light is gentle and it dances on the cosmic tapestry when it exists together with other million stars on the sky. Together, they create a picture of the universe in harmony.

The path to your soul is not a lonely path that you go alone, it's a merry one with people from all different corners of the world going together, some will go away after a while, some will stay with you till the end of the journey. You will find yourself in the crowd, in the people around you, in the distant dream for an ideal world. How do you connect with people without fusing yourself with them? How do you stand apart but still be a part of something? How do you give to the world and grow in the process?

The obstacle: There's a hidden fear inside you. It's about the loss of the self, the disappearing into the mass. Order, stability and the concrete are desired. You have a lot of hidden force within you. If repressed, it can result in general resentment and anger directed at the world at large with no particular target.

Struggling to find motivation can also be a big obstacle. You need to find the roots of that struggle. Is it because it's hard to be motivated when you can't find the meaning for it? It's hard to act when you can't see the direction ahead clearly? Everything needs a meaning and a purpose. Without them, mobilising your incredible pool of energy will be difficult.

The gift: You have the gift of creativity, creating things for the world and creating your own self. You're like a sun that gives life and shines brightly. Expressing your individuality is an impulse that cannot be overridden. So wherever you go, people notice you, they will applaud you light. use this gift to bring light into other's life, help them find the courage to shine brightly like yourself.

The guide: Delve into the realm of your fears and the unknown. The more clearly you see them, the calmer it will feel. Embrace the mystical parts of life. There are certain things that can't be completely understood by just sitting down and thinking about them in practical terms. Sometimes, letting go and just observing is more effective.

There is a connection between the path you choose to go and the influences of the collective. No matter how much you deny those influences, they are still there, lying dormant in your deeper self. It's the force that keeps you connected to everyone, the sense of belonging. If you have the desire to stand apart, to not be drowned in the sea of the collective, understand that you have enough power and strength to swim gracefully alongside others.

CUBE 3

The focus: The lightness and feeling of safety

Building a home for yourself, for your soul, is what you're called to do. I see the image of someone dragging their feet through a storm, they are exhausted, all they're searching for is a shelter, a place for warmth and rest, a place to stop their weary feet. The burdens of life weigh heavily on your shoulders. There might be a time when you want to escape, to let go, that's when you need to grasp at something to anchor yourself back to the reality of life. Life can be heavy and demanding, but you can navigate it in a simple and calm manner. You may have dreams you want to fulfil, aspirations to achieve, big things to expect but at the end of the day, a safe place, a calm mind and a rested body maybe are all you really need. There's a need to strip back to simplicity and find enjoyment in your own world.

The obstacle: You might project a certain assertiveness and a competitive image to the world. But it's a cover to hide your deeper feeling. The more vulnerable you feel, the harder you tend to fight. The more confused you're about your own self, the more likely you're to chase worldly achievements without a real sense of satisfaction. This discrepancy between your inner self and your outer self will hinder your sense of peace. There's a need to find a way to communicate yourself clearer, with more coherence to the story.

The gift: You have the gift of the gab, expressing ideas and convincing other people. Your mind works in a lightning fast manner, gears constantly turning, information flows indefinitely, ideas churned out like a blinking light. You understand things instinctively, sometimes making logical leaps to arrive at the answer, making mental shortcuts. This gift can help you sail through life more smoothly and help you get out of sticky situations, which usually are the results of your expression of assertiveness or anger.

The guide: Taking small steps towards your soul in a slow and steady manner. No need to rush and worry all the time. Everything is built from the culmination of small efforts.

You will find the guiding arrows through listening to your body, to feel the concrete body of yours, the pains that arise in different place, the warmth feeling in the stomach, the hands getting cold, the electricity running through your spine, all those sensations. Don't ignore them. They help you to feel more alive, and they call you to take more care of your body. Without a healthy body, how can you live and go after your goals?

Humility is another guiding arrow. No matter how much knowledge and wisdom you have, there's always something to learn from others, assume the role of a student and try to listen. Challenges might only appear when you refuse to open your mind and learn.

CUBE 4

The focus: the potentials of transformation

I see the image of someone standing from afar, looking tentatively at the vista before them. They want to go towards it, to see for themselves is there a deeper wonder to this life that they haven't known of. The call is ever louder and more tempting each day.

There's still a distance between them and the vista, but they are looking in the right direction. Now, they just need to figure out how to close the distance. They need the courage to take the first step. They can see the rewards, they can also see the hardship. But turning away is not an option anymore. There's so much more to see, so much potential to grow.

The obstacle: I think deep down, you've already figured out the path you need to go, you just need a little nudge because of the uneasiness in knowing what needs to be done to go towards that path. It will require changes, it will require you to discard things you might have held dear in the past but are no longer serving your growth. And it all starts from the mind. You might not like to think too much about the future, the bigger plan for your life, prefer to stay in the details of your surroundings. Maybe you feel that it's never enough, you don't have enough experiences or skill, you don't have enough resources, you don't have enough visions. Which is not true. You are ready to take the plunge, much like the Fool in the Tarot.

The gift: You already have an instinctive understanding of the world around you. Learning comes naturally for you. Your deposit at the bank of knowledge is getting larger everyday and will spill over if you don't use them. The door that can lead you to the path forward is your mind. Use your mental energy to figure out the steps instead of over analysing and excessive worrying.

Putting your voice out into the world, make a statement, make a commitment to your goal, and you will be surprised how far it can take you.

The guide: If you feel overwhelmed by the amount of work that needs to be done in order to have the life you want deep down. Start small and build steadily. The word "transformation" may sound dramatic and scary, but micro-transformations happen at every moment. Grab hold of the visions floating in your heart and mind and hold them steady, study them, don't mystify them, bring them out into the mundane by backtracking the steps leading to them. You see the farthest step, then backtrack until you arrive at where you are now. Start with doable things, and gradually, you will find that a lot more are doable for you.

[onsomenewsht]

I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go

About when she wants to win gold and you talk too much but don’t answer her questions

《 read part 2, 'cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know

》 Alexia Putellas x fencer!Reader

》 words count: + 1.7k

》 the mountain’s call [way of saying]: the irresistible pull or urge to pursue a challenging goal or adventure

“You look like someone who needs to see the best place in the entire Village”

Alexia looks up from the pass’ lanyard she’s fidgeting with, finding your open smile even before spotting your outstretched hand. Her eyebrow rises on its own accord, always sceptical around strangers.

The Olympic Village is big enough to welcome the egos of some of the best athletes in the world, but not big enough to avoid their clashing. It’s actually encouraged.

Within a certain limit, obviously.

The footballer sees you in passing almost every day, given that the Spanish Team rooms are basically neighbours with the Italian Team ones. Your outgoing attitude and friendly nature make you pretty popular around the village. The fact you’re easy on the eyes and quite the talk among the players isn’t lost on Alexia either – she likes good gossip like anybody else.

“Come on, Reina, don’t let me stand here like an idiot”, your teasing words take her back from her overthinking one more time.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere celebrating that?”, she points to the medal hanging around your neck.

A genuine smile rises on both your faces as you mindlessly hold the piece of gold to look at it one more time, feeling like this is some kind of dream.

Your gaze falls on Alexia, still sitting in a corner of a communal break room when her teammates are cheering all around for one more victory in their Olympic journey.

“I’m gonna celebrate for the next four years, I can spare some time for you”

“Congratulations, by the way, I heard it’s not the first one”, she takes your hand as you burst out laughing, helping her on her feet.

You may have hosted the closest thing to a party you can do in the Village when, just earlier this week, you won your first gold medal.

It’s not your first Olympics, it’s not even your first Olympic medal. But finally being a gold medalist? An Olympic Champion? You sure could not let it pass over in silence.

The short walk is filled with small talks and giggles, you do most of the talking but Alexia’s grin stays firmly on her face the entire time. You notice her rosy cheeks and more relaxed stance, holding yourself high with pride to finally see the blonde so carefree around you.

“How did you even find this place?”

The night lights of Paris really turn the city into some sort of fantastic dream, the view is easily able to take the breath away from the little balcony you open for her. You’re on top of the biggest complex in the Village, the usual chaos that fills the French capital is somehow just background noise.

“Fencing is an ancient discipline”, you start, barely avoiding Alexia’s playful hit on your arm at your documentary-like approach.

“Jokes aside, the Italian school basically created fencing, but then the French school redefined the system to what it’s like today and they will not shut up about it. It’s a long lasting rivalry between two countries that, sportwise, hate each other”

“Everyone hates the French, sportwise”, the Spain captain agrees, mimicking your move as you sit on the floor of the balcony.

“Fencing into the Grand Palais in fucking Paris is like playing every single game as a World Cup final against the host country in a stadium filled with their fans and colours”

“Dramatic”

“Of course! You’re putting Italian and French people in the same place, asking them to fight with swords, literally. It’s gonna be dramatic”, you let your gaze wander around as the blonde’s one tries to find something inside you.

Alexia waits for you, understanding just now how your cheerful and playful behaviour hides something more complex.

She has turned on your Team Final on her way back from the stadium, curious about it – about you – after the little party you put on for the entire Village following your Individual Final victory.

She got nothing about what was happening, not understanding how some hits were good and others were given away or not counted. She prides herself on being able to recognise good athleticism and quick leg ability though. The way you move on the piste, quickly but precisely in every single gesture, is mesmerising. The way your mind acts even faster than your body is even more captivating.

What surprised her the most is the way you hold back.

While your opponents celebrate any conceded hits and your teammates celebrate loudly all the successful points, you stay stoic and firm the entire time.

It’s something she doesn’t expected from you, usually so excited about everything.

That’s probably one of the reasons that brings her here with you in the first place.

“You don’t look dramatic when you fence”

“Oh, you watched me?”

“It was the bare minimum after your detailed commentary after our last game”

“I’m Italian, I’m a football fan from birth”, you say, rolling your eyes humorously, not ready to reveal that the Spanish team is the only one you care about keeping up with during this Olympic tournament.

Alexia Putellas just admitted she turned on your Final to see you win a gold medal.

“Wait, let’s just go back to you watching me fence”

She smile at your weak attempt to avoid her question, genuinely amused about you but pretty sure you’re gonna tell her everything she asks – eventually.

A comfortable silence between the two of you fills the air for some minutes, somehow guiding your bodies closer.

“How did you find this place?”, the Catalan winks when you turn to look at her.

“I hate fencing with the French”, you start to explain after a bit with a serious note underneath your voice, “I lost my last Olympic Individual Final against a reckless fencer with the most annoying Parisian accent ever”

Another moment passes, Alexia doesn’t pressure you but can feel you relax when she places her hand on your knee.

“Last time I was in Paris, I injured myself. I was out for nine months and lost two major tournaments. This Olympics being hosted here as I was supposed to redeem myself and prove to be good enough at the same time? Really took a turn on me at first”, you avoid her gaze as you sum up one of your biggest fears to a stranger on a balcony viewing Paris’ landscape.

“I needed a place to escape without running away”

“And here we are, facing Paris from a hiding spot”

How the footballer manages to understand you so well in such a short amount of time, in such an unusual setting, is really something that surprises you. Your eyes meet and you can distinctly feel your heart skip a bit.

“I befriended a handyman, this floor is for staff only as some sort of control room”

“This explains the private balcony”

“I should have started with this and not the unasked story of my life”

You can still feel Alexia’s hand on you, mindlessly caressing your leg as you try not to implode and hide the redness of your face. She smirks.

“We’ll play France in the semifinal”, she says with a hint of disbelief and irony.

“Fuck the French”, you state solemnly, “It’s basically a wanna-be repeat of the Champions League’s final, you’re going to be fine”

“If you just jinxed it–”

“I did not, I know an Olympic Champion when I see one”

The burst of confidence and the firmness in your voice, despite the easy way you’re both talking about Spain’s next game, are enough to subside the noises inside Alexia’s head – your voice is a good distraction and your presence is a welcoming discovery.

“How is it?”

“What?”

The blonde’s finger points at the piece of gold still hanging on your neck, you’re just glad it’s her other hand as you look back and forth between her and the medal.

“You won enough to know how it is”

“It’s my first Olympics”

“In Italian there’s a word, I don’t know if you have the same difference in Spanish. It’s olimpionico and it’s not like olimpico – olympic”

“You never go for the straight answer, do you?”, she interrupts you with a teasing smile.

“No, never done anything the straight way my entire life, now let me go on with my wise and deep talk”, you graciously – and quite bravely on your part, if you must say so yourself – drop your arm around her shoulder, releasing a breath as she smoothly adjusts her body closer.

“Olimpionico is formed from the Greek ᾿Ολύμπια, which means ‘competitions of Olympia’ so our Olympic Games, and the root of νικάω, that I don’t know to explain how but can be translated with ‘victory’ or ‘winner’ and you have to trust me on this one”, you’ve never been happier with your strict education and the Italian questionable school system.

“I’m still waiting for the point”

“I mean to say we have a specific word for an Olympic athlete who doesn’t just compete in the Olympic Games but actually wins”

“You won enough Olympic medals to know how it is”

“The last time we won bronze as a team and I lost the gold against the obnoxious Frenchwoman, Alexia, keep up”, you’re perfectly aware of her hand on your thigh and her eyes burning on your face – she definitely noticed your red cheeks and the cracks on your walls.

“It’s my first Individual gold and this is my first Team gold, it’s– I don’t know how to explain, but it’s–”

“It’s olimpionico?”, she indulges you, her accent around the Italian word is way more charming than the French one.

“You get it”

“Olympic Champion sounds so uncool now”

As the night turns into a darker shade of black and the Paris lights really do the city’s name justice, you feel like there’s something profound linking you with the athlete curled on your side.

It’s a shared desire to prove yourself to everyone, while wanting to make just a few close people proud. It’s a shared hunger to be the best among some of the greatest, but to make sure the ones around you shine as much.

It’s a shared feeling, deep inside, telling you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

[toruskiii]

Love Delivery!

Synopsis: Balancing part-time food delivery with a busy school schedule is no easy task. One day, while on a delivery, you find yourself awkwardly waiting at the door of a luxurious apartment. Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing a handsome, albeit annoyingly rich, man. Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn?? (modern au!) Character: Aventurine x fem!reader Warnings: Hot sassy men apocalypse, maybe this will have a part 2 or smth idk

[masterlist] [about me]

Ding!

Someone has placed an order near your set area.

You glance at the notification on your screen, just as you’re snapping a picture of the food you’ve delivered to the nice granny’s house. The elderly lady smiles politely, waiting patiently as you finish taking the photo.

“Ah, another order, young lady?” she croaks out, offering a small, grateful bow when you hand her the plastic bag of food. “Thank you so much, hoho. I’m sorry to trouble you young folks, but it’s hard for my old bones to get around, you know?” She chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

You smile at her and shake your head, waving off her concern. "It's no problem, granny. It's my job, after all." After bidding farewell to the old lady, you put on your helmet, hop back on your bike, and accept the new order request.

Penacony's Clock Diner? Wait-

You quickly check the location set for your food delivery, confused by the address. You're all the way in Aurem Alley, and the customer wants food from Penacony? Ridiculous.

Location Set: Xianzhou Luofu.

How is this guy even able to send his request to you?

You double-check the address, noticing the system listing it as Fyxestroll Garden. What the hell? There aren’t any apartment complexes at Fyxestroll Garden!

Puzzled, you pull over to the side of the road and open the map on your phone, trying to make sense of it. Fyxestroll Garden is a well-known public park, famous for its serene walking paths and meticulously kept gardens. You can’t recall any buildings, let alone residential ones, in the area. You tap on the address again, hoping it’s a mistake or a glitch, but the coordinates remain unchanged.

Maybe it’s a new complex that just opened? you wonder. Or could it be some sort of exclusive residence hidden within the park?

Not long after, another text message pops up on your screen, and it's from the guy.

Frustration boils within you as you read the message, your temper nearing its breaking point. The blazing sun beats down mercilessly, intensifying your irritation as you stand near the dock, contemplating a plunge into the cooling waters below. How could this customer be so careless as to mess up their address, leaving you to contend with this sweltering heat and an hour-long detour?

And curse this app for its lack of a proper cancellation feature!

With a frustrated groan, you glance at the text, feeling the resistance of your bike's wheels grow heavier as you open the GPS. You're tempted to unleash a torrent of curses at the customer for exploiting some loophole in the app, forcing you to exert yourself just to deliver his order. He better be prepared to tip generously for this inconvenience.

To reach Penacony, your best bet is to take the Astral Express train— a mode of transportation you've used before but disliked immensely. The erratic jumps and occasional turbulence make for a nerve-wracking journey. And that conductor… Was it just fatigue playing tricks on your mind, or did they really have bunny ears…?

You sigh heavily as you enter the station, swiping your pass before parking your bike and leaning against it. Your gaze drifts to the TV hanging on the wall, checking the schedule to see when the train will arrive. Fifteen minutes? Well, there's no escaping it now…

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You feel like hurling yourself into outer space.

Not only did the restaurant forget to prepare the order, but you're also stuck in a conversation with one of the servers who insists on cracking the most cringeworthy jokes.

"There's no such thing as a bad joke, only lousy comedians who can't deliver them!" the server— Jay, apparently. boasts. Doesn't this guy have other customers to attend to? Good grief. You're tempted to point out that he's no better than those lousy comedians, but you're not that mean— and you definitely don't want to risk losing your job.

"Order number 38! One sarmale and one classic soulglad!" a worker calls out, providing a convenient distraction as you hastily grabbed the food and rush over to your bike— just in time for your phone to start chiming with multiple notifications.

Fuming with frustration, you run a hand through your hair, pedaling away as fast as your legs can carry you to the designated location. One hand grips the handlebars tightly while the other clutches your phone, fingers jabbing at the screen as you send panicked voicemails to the careless customer.

"I'm on my way! I'll be there soon!" you breathe out, your voice strained with urgency, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon. You're so preoccupied that you didn't even bother with your helmet, leaving it hanging on the basket of your bike as you speed along. The wind rushes past you, whipping your hair back as you scream into your phone.

"I'm practically flying to your place. Just hold on!" you seethe, narrowly avoiding collisions with other vehicles. You swear you catch a glimpse of a pair of blue-haired siblings shooting you a skeptical glance as you whiz by. No one's going to meet their demise on my watch.

(Maybe a few might with the way you're on the verge of causing car crashes.)

With determination fueling every pedal, you push yourself to the limit, determined to reach the customer's location before they decide to relocate to another universe altogether.

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Upon stepping into the lounge of the apartment complex, you stand there, utterly flabbergasted.

The sight before you is nothing short of opulent. Everyone here is dressed to the nines in fancy attire, oozing sophistication and wealth. I mean, what did you expect? That the guy who ordered the food would settle for anything less than extravagance? 1800 credits for a soda?

But even knowing that, you weren't prepared for the sheer luxury of it all. Marble floors greet you the moment you enter, with plush velvet red sofas arranged in elegant clusters at every corner. The vases of plants adorning the marble countertops probably cost more than your entire monthly rent.

The sprawling expanse of rooms lining the halls seems to stretch on endlessly, giving you the impression that you've stumbled into a palace rather than an apartment complex. You can't help but feel like a humble peasant as you approach the lobby manager, your attire— a mishmash of sweaty clothes and a random jacket—paling in comparison to the impeccably tailored suits of the residents. Are you checking into an apartment or a castle?

What catches you off guard is the realization that most of the people milling about in this opulent setting are students. Students! You recognize familiar faces in the crowd— classmates from the same campus you attend.

"Hello, I'm here to deliver an order for room number ███," you murmur to the manager, noting the slight stress in her demeanor as she punches in the room number to confirm the request. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she directs you to the Platinum room.

The Platinum room? Your mind races with questions as you make your way through the halls, the extravagant surroundings only adding to your bewilderment. What kind of student lives in the Platinum room of an apartment complex like this?

Here you stand, face to face with the imposing wooden door adorned with intricate golden trimmings, feeling as though your bank account is slowly draining with each passing moment. You raise a hand to knock, furrowing your brows in confusion when there's no immediate answer.

"Hey, it's me. I'm here to deliver your food," you call out, giving the door another firm knock. Still, there's no response. Seriously?

Technically, you could just leave the food at his door and be done with it. But something about the luxuriousness of this apartment complex makes you hesitate. It wouldn't reflect well on you to simply abandon the delivery outside, especially in such an upscale setting. (You internally roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all.)

As the door finally creaks open, you're poised to unleash the most scathing side-eye you can muster— ready to give this guy a piece of your mind for keeping you waiting (and running). But as your gaze meets his, you freeze.

You'd seen his profile picture on the app before, but you'd doubted that a man so devastatingly handsome could possibly exist in real life. You'd convinced yourself that it was probably some sort of prank or scam, someone using a fake photo to lure in unsuspecting victims.

But now, standing before you, is a man who defies all logic. His golden, tousled locks frame a face so strikingly beautiful it steals your breath away. His eyes— oh, those eyes— they're like pools of sapphire surrounded by a halo of lavender. You feel your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you struggle to find your voice, your words caught in your throat like a lump of lead.

He gazes back at you, those mesmerizing eyes flickering with mild curiosity as he tilts his head inquisitively. "Hm? Ah, it's you," he says, breaking the spell of silence that had enveloped you. But you can hardly hear him over the thunderous pounding of your heart, which seems to be screaming one thing over and over again: He's even more breathtaking in person.

You mentally slap yourself, shaking off the remnants of your daze as you stumble over your words, handing him his bag of food with trembling hands. "R-right, sorry to keep you waiting. Here's your food, sir," you manage to stutter out, inwardly cursing yourself for apologizing. Why am I apologizing? He's the one who's in the wrong here!

He lets out a soft chuckle, and you swear the sun must be finding its way to shine through the walls of the complex as your ears burn at the mere sound of his laugh. It's so calming, so captivating, that you feel like you're floating in a dream.

"No, no. Don't apologize. It's my fault for entering the wrong address," he reassures you, his voice smooth as silk. His fingers brush over yours as he reaches for his food, sending an electric shock through your entire body at the brief contact. You can't help but notice how his gaze softens as he opens the plastic bag to check the contents, a small hum of satisfaction escaping his lips at the sight of the still-warm food. You decide not to question it— perhaps he's just feeling a bit homesick.

You continue to awkwardly stand there, your hands fidgeting nervously in your pockets as you struggle to find something to say. "So, uh, your total is 6500 credits, sir," you finally manage to blurt out, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

He blinks in mild surprise, a small "ah" escaping his lips before he nods, disappearing momentarily back into his apartment. He returns a moment later, wallet in hand, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Since I've troubled you so much, how much do you want me to pay you back with, hm?" he teases, his tone playful.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in disbelief. Well, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble, making you trek all over town just to deliver two measly items. But still, the thought of asking for more money makes you feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed. "No, that…that won't be necessary," you choke out, feeling your palms grow sweaty with nervousness. "There's no need—"

"I insist," he interrupts, his tone firm yet strangely charming.

Well, damn. You're caught between feeling grateful for his generosity and feeling utterly mortified at the prospect of asking for more payment. But with his insistence ringing in your ears, you find yourself reluctantly nodding in agreement, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"1000 credits is fine," you mumble, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of asking for more money.

"Just 1000?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you with a slight frown. "That's quite low, considering the trouble I've put you through," he adds, his fingers skimming through his wallet in search of more credits.

As he rummages through his wallet, you can't help but notice his student card peeking out from among the bills. Your lips part in shock as you realize he's a student at the IPC—yeah, he's definitely rich. You should have haggled for more money.

"Are— do you major in accounting…?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself, your eyes darting to his card. He hums in response, shaking his head. "Nah, fashion. I can't count."

The two of you maintain eye contact for a few moments, and you find yourself staring at him dumbly while he gives you a cat-like grin.

"Did you actually buy that? I'm joking. I major in both finance and accounting."

You can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his flippant attitude. This man radiates fuck-boy energy, and you're starting to have second thoughts. Does he get a pass because of his looks, or is it because of his looks that he gets a pass?

"Oh," is all you can manage to answer as he hands you a random stack of credits.

You stare dumbfounded at his outstretched hand, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you glance back and forth between the stash of credits and his gaze. "Huh? How much is this?" you inquire, still hesitant to accept the payment.

"Does it really matter?" he scoffs, nudging you playfully. "1000 credits is way too little, and I don't like scamming people. I don't stoop that low," he chuckles, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. When you don't budge, he feels a twitch in his eye before suddenly grabbing your jacket and tugging at your pockets, causing you to let out a startled yelp. "Hey! What the hell—"

Ignoring your protest, he shoves the credits inside your pocket with lazy nonchalance, letting out a whistle of satisfaction before releasing his hold. "There. Now just think of it as you were robbed in reverse," he quips, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"That's not helping!"

"It's not like your boss or whoever's in charge of the app will check your pockets, right? I'm just giving you tips, there's nothing wrong with that," he shrugs, struggling to hold back a snort at how visibly annoyed you look. If this were any other person, like an 'actual' adult or man, he'd brush it off and just toss a random wad of tips your way before politely closing the door. Maybe he'd pause for a pretty lady— well, you are a pretty lady.

But he can tell you're a student, just like him, probably working your ass off just to make ends meet. Hey, he doesn't judge. Plus, it's kind of fun to tease people occasionally, and you remind him of another acquaintance of his who's majoring in medicine.

"So, anything else?" he murmurs, leaning casually against the doorframe, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You can't help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at his nonchalant attitude. "No, that's it," you reply tersely, your voice tinged with annoyance. You can't wait to get out of here and put this bizarre encounter behind you.

He nods in acknowledgment, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "Alright then. Take care, pretty," he says, offering you a lazy wave before shutting the door gently behind him.

As you make your way back to your bike, you can't help but replay the encounter in your mind, wondering just what the hell just happened. This guy is definitely one of a kind, that's for sure.

As you swiftly exit the complex and pedal back to the train station, a dull headache begins to gnaw at your temples. You have other pending orders waiting for you back in Luofu, and the thought of having to navigate through the city once more only adds to your growing exhaustion. Yet, amidst the fatigue, a small swell of warmth tugs at your heart at the thought of not getting his number.

Sure, he provided his contact information when he placed the order, but with a guy like him, you're almost certain it's just his business line or something equally impersonal. Besides, it would feel a bit creepy to text him out of the blue. What would you even say?

'Hey, I thought you were cute after making me run laps around the city and deal with an annoying server, hmu?'

No way, that's beyond pathetic. Plus, you'd risk losing face.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrive back at the train station, your hands absentmindedly reaching up to touch your flushed cheeks, still tingling from the encounter. He's undeniably attractive, and you can't shake the nagging feeling that he probably already has a girlfriend— or several. Besides, you should be focusing on your studies, not getting involved with some rich fuck boy.

Ding!

Huh?

You're snapped out of your reverie by the sound of a notification chiming on your phone. With a curious frown, you unlock your device to see what it is.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you read the notification, your eyes widening in disbelief. What the hell is wrong with this guy? 10,000 credits? Is he insane?

With trembling hands, you quickly fish out the money he gave you from your pockets, counting through the stack under your breath to keep your panic in check. "6, 7, 8… 9…" you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you realize he gave you thrice the amount needed.

Your fingers tap frantically on your phone screen as you type out a response, your words rushed and panicked. "Dude, you gave me thrice the amount needed already—stop."

As you stare at the screen, your mind reels with disbelief. He just willingly gave you his phone number— and he thinks you're cute?

It's a little funny, in a surreal sort of way, that the entire conversation is still ongoing within the food service app. Here you are, exchanging private messages with each other despite the platform's intended purpose.

You gulp, feeling the heat rise to the tips of your ears. Your brows knit together in a mixture of disbelief and slight annoyance, the memory of the earlier encounter still fresh in your mind. After all, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble with that address mix-up.

Should you add him?

"…"

You're caught off guard as a strong gust of wind rushes past you, fluttering your hair in its wake as the Astral Express train arrives. The station immediately becomes crowded, and you struggle to maneuver your bike into the passenger compartment as people squeeze past you. Finally, you manage to park your bike and squeeze yourself into an empty corner to avoid blocking anyone.

As everyone settles into their seats and grips the handles, the doors of the train shut, and the conductor announces the next stop. You let out a sigh, knowing it'll be another 20 or so stops before you reach Luofu…

Glancing back at your phone, your fingers tap onto it mindlessly, the cabin now quiet save for the occasional cries of children or chatter between friends.

Your gaze softens as a new notification pops up.

Aventurine (loser of a customer) is now saved into your contacts.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Ding!

"Good evening to you again, pretty delivery lady."

[hiitsm]

The Weight of a Promise: The Second Vow

The Weight of a Promise is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt

-

You sit at the table, the takeout containers now a stark contrast to the atmosphere that was supposed to be filled with joy and togetherness. Your engagement ring glints painfully in the dim light, its presence a constant reminder of what was just torn away from you.

The numbness from Jenni’s sudden departure begins to give way to a tempest of emotions. Sadness, anger, confusion, and a deep-seated sense of betrayal. The more you think about her words, the more you question whether her decision was truly about needing to clear her head or if there was something deeper that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, share with you.

Hours pass in a blur, the silence punctuated only by the occasional sob that escapes your lips. You keep glancing at the engagement ring on your finger, its brilliance now a cruel mockery of the promise it once symbolized. How could something that represented such deep love and commitment now feel so heavy and painful?

In the midst of your turmoil, your phone buzzes, startling you from your reverie. It’s a message from Alexia, a name that brings a flicker of comfort amidst the storm. She had been a close friend to both you and Jenni, a confidante who had witnessed the highs and lows of your relationship.

Alexia: 'Hey, I just saw Jenni’s post. Are you okay? I’m here if you need me.'

You hesitate for a moment, the sting of Jenni's departure still fresh. But Alexia’s genuine concern and your own need for support outweigh your reservations. With a heavy sigh, you reply.

You: 'Can you come over? I really need someone to talk to.'

Alexia’s response is swift.

Alexia: 'I’m on my way. Hang in there.'

When the doorbell rings, the sound is both a relief and a reminder of the painful reality you're facing. You slowly rise from the couch, your movements heavy with the weight of your emotions, and open the door to find Alexia standing there, her face etched with concern.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping inside and pulling you into a comforting hug. Her embrace is warm, a stark contrast to the coldness that has enveloped you since Jenni left.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice breaking slightly as you step back to let her in. You lead her to the living room, where she takes in the scene. The untouched takeout, the candle flickering weakly, and your tear-streaked face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alexia asks gently, her eyes filled with a deep empathy.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, sinking back onto the couch. “Jenni just… left. She’s going to Mexico, and she’s going alone. I don’t understand why she couldn’t wait, why she couldn’t let me be part of this journey with her.”

Alexia sits beside you, her hand reaching out to comfort you. “It’s okay to feel like this. It’s a lot to process,” she says, her voice steady and soothing.

“But why now?” you continue, your voice trembling. “Why did she make this decision without talking to me first? We were supposed to be building a life together. How could she just leave like this?”

Alexia takes a deep breath, clearly struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes, people make decisions based on what they feel they need at the moment. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s right or easy, but it’s what they think is best for them.”

You look at her, the pain in your eyes evident. “I thought Jenni was different. I thought we were stronger than this.”

A sob breaks free from your chest, and you clutch at the engagement ring, as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of your shattered dreams. “She vowed to always face challenges together,” you choke out between sobs. “During her proposal, she promised we’d be a team, that we’d navigate everything side by side. And now… now she’s breaking that vow. She’s leaving, and it feels like she’s breaking me too.”

The tears flow freely, and you lean into Alexia’s comforting presence, your body shaking with the intensity of your emotions. “I thought we were building a future together. I thought we’d face everything as a team, but now it feels like she’s choosing to walk away from us, from everything we dreamed of.”

Alexia holds you tightly, her own eyes brimming with tears as she listens to your heartache. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. “I know it’s incredibly painful. And it’s okay to grieve the loss of what you thought your future would be.”

You bury your face in Alexia’s shoulder, the warmth of her embrace providing a small comfort amidst the storm of your emotions. “I don’t know how to move on from this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It feels like a piece of me is missing, and I don’t know how to find it again.”

Alexia’s hand strokes your hair soothingly. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just take things one day at a time. Allow yourself to feel, to mourn, and to heal. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, and I’ll support you through every step.”

As you cry into her shoulder, Alexia’s words offer a glimmer of solace in the midst of your anguish. The pain is still raw, the hurt still fresh, but her presence provides a small measure of comfort as you navigate the difficult path ahead. For now, you cling to her support, finding strength in the fact that you don’t have to face this heartache alone.

-

Slow burn.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I woke up and chose angsty violence on everyone.

What if Optimus survived the events of Predacon Rising? Sometime after everyone left, he crawled up from the Well but was no longer the same person he was. Housing the Allspark inside himself had destroyed his mind than just the Matrix of Leadership and what's left is a very feral bot that looks like Optimus.

No one finds out until reports from refugees come in about a strange Cybertronian running amuck in the wastes that attacks anyone who gets too close. Optimus' former team would absolutely be split on what to do about him. Leave him alone in nature under protection, try to snap him out of it or put their once leader down?

They can't ignore the problem as someone will recognize Optimus at some point.

You. You my good individual are evil. I adore your twisted little mind (affectionate).

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

There were... reports. Quite a few of them in fact.

Each and every one of them claimed that there was a feral mech living out in the wastes, the land that was formerly Iacon's great forest before the war razed it to the ground. No one knew what to think of it, but then they saw the pictures. And those pictures changed everything.

"Ratchet, he can't seriously still be alive? Can he?" Bumblebee's voice was filled with disbelief as Ratchet looked over the image projected on the holodisk. The rest of the table seemed to share Bumblebee's thoughts as they watched. It was a quick series of pictures put on a slideshow. They were grainy, but the blue and red was unmistakable. The exposed Matrix even more so.

"It seems that we were wrong to label Prime as out for the count." Bulkhead added his two shanix, earning him a murmur of agreement from an equally uncertain Wheeljack.

"If he's feral, do you think we can bring back?" Arcee spoke up as well, earning a series of comments from the team. Bumblebee seemed hopeful, as did Smokescreen. Even Ultra Magnus seemed marginally interested in a potential plan to help Optimus if he really was out there.

Ratchet was not so optimistic.

"I will go and assess the situation personally. For all we know, it might not be him. We can't get our hopes up." Standing up, Ratchet collected the holodisk with a purposefully blank expression. The team regarded him with various expression of surprise, but they didn't stop him.

Good. They didn't need to see what was going to come next.

"Ratchet, if it is him, you'll let us know." Ultra Magnus put a servo on his shoulder, a knowing expression plastered all over the Commander's face. Ratchet gave no confirmation, instead tightening his grip on the holodisk as he made his way out.

Ratchet couldn't explain it, but when he saw the photo, he couldn't help the feeling of wrongness that filled his very spark. The team wouldn't understand. They hadn't known Orion. All they saw was their Prime's face. They didn't see the vacancy in his optics or the way he hunched in the picture like he was struggling just to stand. The mech they once knew was not himself. He was hardly alive.

Ratchet refused to let his friend's legacy be destroyed by a cruel twist of fate.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into the early morning light as he gathered his things quietly, taking great care with his most important tool as he began the trip out into the wastes. It was not a long trip, not terribly so at any rate. A few joors into his journey, he found himself wandering the wastes in silence, his optics set on any crevice where the husk of his friend could have possibly been hiding. He didn't bother calling out. It was a useless endeavor.

One joor. Two joors. And then, he found what he was looking for.

"Hello, Orion. Its been a while, hasn't it?" A lanky figure pulled itself out of a small cave. Cycled down optics met his, curiosity registering somewhere in their empty stare. Ratchet didn't dare move as the husk pulled itself out of its hiding place, its helm tilted ever so slightly in confusion, or perhaps interest.

"I had hoped that you'd made it out alright. But I don't think that's the case." His words were faint as the husk finally stood. It was thin, gangly from what was likely months of less than sufficient energon. Its armor was cracked and broken, the jetpack that Optimus had once enjoyed now all but ripped off. The husk's face was covered in gashes and marks, the rest of its frame not much better. It looked... pitiful. But above all else, the shining Matrix in its chassis made Ratchet frown.

"No normal mech should be able to survive these wounds." He practically whispered as he took a step forward, holding out a servo in a friendly manner. The husk froze, almost looking ready to scuttle back into its hiding place. But Ratchet remained firm, standing still and speaking quietly.

"That thing... it won't let you die, will it?" He received no verbal answer, but the glowing white of the husk's optics told him everything he needed to know.

White was the color of divinity, but also of sickness. A mech with white optics was said to be doomed to die. Ratchet was not normally a mech to care about superstitions. But that one... he could get behind.

"It must hurt." He couldn't disguise the faint shakiness of his voice as the husk finally inched closer, looming over Ratchet with height that had once been comforting. The husk's optics cycled down and then went wide. A wide and almost sparkling like smile spread across its face as it dropped to all fours, crawling nearer on just about Ratchet's level.

It hesitated a moment, and then pressed its face up against Ratchet's servo like a hound would. Ratchet almost winced, but seeing the husk's genuine affection, he couldn't bring himself to do anything more than sigh and run his free servo along the crest of its helm. So similar to his Prime, and yet so very different.

"The others want to bring you home. They want to fix you." The husk's engine rumbled in delight, pleased as Ratchet caressed broken finials with light touches. The husk looked so very happy as it came closer, seating itself at Ratchet's pedes to lean into every place his digits touched. So unlike Optimus. This thing was a mere echo, a sad and painful echo.

"I don't think you want to be fixed, if that is even possible." His venting hitched as he cupped the husk's face, sensing the animalistic instinct in it. The husk didn't fight back as Ratchet pressed the crest of his helm to the husk's, enjoying the momentary interaction.

"I wanted to hope... I wanted to think that maybe you'd evaded death yet again." He could feel coolant threatening to gather in his optics as he quietly reached to his satchel, pulling out an injector. The yellow liquid within glowed faintly in the dying light of the evening, but Ratchet paid it little mind as he memorized the faint sounds of the husk's engine and the giddy smile upon its face. It hadn't even noticed Ratchet's tool.

"I prayed for your return. But I think that may have been a mistake." Blazing white optics gazed up at him, innocent and yet vacant. It hurt more than it should have.

Why? Why did it have to look so alive and yet so dead?

"Perhaps it would have been kinder if death had finally taken you." Pressing a kiss to the husk's helm crest, Ratchet enjoyed the warmth of a living, venting mech for a moment longer. His spark spun in agony, but now was not the time to stop. This... this was a mercy.

"Rest Orion. Return to Codexa, to Alpha Trion. Go to those who love you... and know that one cycle I will join you there." In one swift motion, Ratchet dug the injector into the husk's neck. Its optics blew wide, its vocalizer spitting static as it stared up at him in sheer terror.

"Shh... it's alright. It will be over soon." The husk went limp, falling into Ratchet's arms. He knelt quietly, letting it rest against his chassis as its frame began to seize. The Matrix flared, sending shocks through the husk to try and keep it active. The husk wailed in response, its shattered vocalizer producing pained cries that could have caused the dead to quake. Ratchet held firm, keeping the husk held against him as the Matrix's shocks ran their course, eventually ceasing.

"I'll tell the others you were dead upon my arrival. Don't worry. They won't see you like this... I promise." The husk spasmed a moment longer, its optics momentarily returning to a bright and healthy blue. For a half klik, Ratchet could have sworn he saw understanding in those optics.

And gratitude.

"I'm sorry, Old Friend." The term of endearment slipped past his derma before he could stop it. In response, Optimus smiled and then fell still, his optics going dark and his frame losing all life.

Ratchet held what remained of his oldest friend for a long while, not speaking or moving.

It was done.

Now Optimus could rest.

[emmyspov]

Idk if your requests are open rn, but if they're not I apologize. I was wondering how you think The Fellowship would react to their youngest member (someone a little younger than Pippin, like around 20) being incredibly prone to injury but also having a really high pain tolerance. Like they keep falling off things and getting hurt but are just like "Don't fuss over me" and the others are just like hyperventilating because they're already like a little sibling to them so there is PANIC in this fellowship tonight

Source: I fell off a swingset and either severely bruised or fractured me hip :)

The Fellowship x clumsy!reader headcanons

author's note: first of all, i am so sorry it took me this long to answer this - life was just.. a lot and i was trying to stay afloat. then, i hope you are doing okay! and haven't hurt yourself more since you sent this in - please be careful & treat yourself gently 🩷 last but not least: i hope i was able to do you justice & you enjoy it :)

warnings: reader falling/stumbling/hitting their head/getting hurt in general, mention of blood, mention of food, please let me know if i forgot something!

word count: 1.6k

edit is mine, pics are from pinterest :)

Frodo: I think Frodo is actually the one who would understand you the best. I mean, he is the ring-bearer and everyone is always so worried about him and the quest and it’s understandable. I mean, he has a lot of responsibility. But sometimes, he feels a bit suffocated by the way everyone is fussing over him, wanting to keep him warm and well fed and safe. So, whenever something happens to you, he would give you some space first – waiting if you ask for help on your own. If you don’t, he’d make sure that you are not hurt. And then, he’d trust your answer. After all, you know your body and its limits best. If you say you are okay, he will simply focus on the quest again. If you do need help however, he will make sure to inform the others so you can get the help you need. Maybe this is something you could actually bond over. Because you’d treat him the same way – not like a baby, but like a friend.

Gandalf: Since you are the youngest of the group, he would feel very responsible for you. Not as much as Aragorn, but very close behind. Whenever you fall or hurt yourself, the wizard notices immediately. In an instant, he is by your side, helps you up and looks over you from head to toe, making sure you don’t have some big gashing wound or bones sticking out. Maybe I am wrong, but I do think, he would scold you a bit. “You really have to watch out”, “Eyes on the ground”, “Be careful”. But, all of these things mean that he cares. He just wants you to be safe and for you to come back in one piece. On the other hand, he is always quite surprised whenever you tell him that you aren’t really hurt. “Maybe it looks like I would be, but I can move my leg just fine – see?” And he would see. It’d take a few moments for you to convince him, but once you have, you will carry on with your journey as if nothing had happened. What you don’t notice is Gandalf eyeing you every once in a while, just to be really sure.

Merry: This hobbit is kind of used to chaos. I mean- he spends most of his time with Pippin. So, if you stumble and roll down some hill, the first thing he would do is laugh. I am talking a full on bending over, belly laugh. Until Gimli or Gandalf or, even worse, Aragorn slightly smack his shoulder before they are running after you, checking you for any injuries. Only then would he realize how dangerous this whole thing was and he’d follow everyone down to you. What he was not expecting however was to find you laughing. “Did I look cool?” Merry would stare at you for a moment before grinning at you, nodding. “Super cool. But are you hurt? Your arm has some scratches from all these twigs laying around.” You were able to stand up immediately, ignoring everyone’s wide eyes, and brushing off the dirt. “Nothing some water and Elrond’s ointment can’t fix.” You two got closer after this.

Pippin: First of all, he is SUPER glad that you, too, came along, because this way he is not the youngest of the group. Sure, he still has to deal with Gandalf’s annoyance at him, but he also has someone by his side who is also full of energy and curious and excited for the quest (at least in the beginning). But because he is the second youngest, he does feel a bit responsible for and protective over you. Like the older one of a pair of twins would. And since you hurt yourself a lot, he is constantly on his toes. Maybe you’d hold hands sometimes? Just so he can realize as early as possible that you’re gonna fall so he can at least try to buffer it. More often than not, it would also end in you two falling ON TOP of one another and that always ends in a fit of giggles. If you fall on your own though and it looked bad, Pippin would immediately call over Aragorn or Gandalf to help you, even when you say you’re fine because you’re his friend and he wants you to be okay.

Sam: Now we all know Sam is a mother hen through and through, even if he denies it. He is, understandably, mostly focused on Frodo and his well-being, but if something happens to you, he is one of the first to help, despite your protests. You stumbled? He will grab your hand and pull you up. Your hands got dirty and bloody from a fall? He will immediately offer his water bottle and help you clean off any dirt. And most importantly: at the end of the day or during breaks, he will carry over some food he cooked (and always an extra portion, too) even though you keep telling him that you can get it yourself and your ankle does not hurt, even if it might have looked like that earlier. “I just want to be sure, my friend. I don’t like the thought of you being in pain.” After a while, you start to accept his treatment.

Gimli: He is not up for discussions. You accidentally ran against a tree? Slipped while getting some water with him? He will not care for what you have to say about the amount of pain you are. You are the youngest of the group and have to be protected. So even if you vehemently try to make him understand that, yes, you might be bleeding a bit or yes, your wrist might be a little bit swollen, he would ignore you and instead call over the others to let them have a look at you. If they decided you were well enough to carry on, he would either carry your backpack (“Stop trying to take this away from me, I will take care of your belongings for now”) or sometimes even you - “Stop fussing around”, “No, you are not too heavy” and “I will carry you around until you are better.” Often times he knows that you would be well enough to walk by yourself, but it makes him feel needed when he can take care of you in some way.

Legolas: I feel like this can go two ways. Sometimes, when he is running in front of everyone else, he is kind of the last to notice whenever you hurt yourself. If he is with the group however, he will almost always be by your side or at least close to keep an eye on you. He likes to listen to you and Pippin talk since it fuels his inner child. One time, he was walking in front of you with Aragorn when you hit your head on a twig, resulting in a small cut on your forehead. You let out a yelp, more out of shock than anything else, but immediately the man and the elf turned around and ran to your aid. You tried to explain that you were fine, but Legolas seeing himself as a wood elf, was already on his way to find the closest stream to fetch some water to clean your wound. Aragorn was telling the others to take a short break when he returned and sat you down. “Stay still, my friend. Even if your cut doesn’t hurt now, it will later if we don’t treat it properly.” He only grinned when you mumbled something in return.

Boromir: Listen, Boromir has a little brother and a shitty father, he knows how to take care of someone while also respecting their boundaries and wishes. No matter how you hurt yourself, the first thing he will do is communicate clearly. Softly grabbing your shoulders, he makes you look at him and asks if you’re hurt or in any pain. If you answer no, he will ask if you need anything or anyone and if you also refuse that, he will make sure that everyone carries on with the journey. However, he will keep an eye on you, more or less secretly. And he will assist you with all the small things during the quest: rolling out your bedroll and placing it close to his own and the halflings’, sneaking you an extra blanket, making you sit close to the fire or refilling your water bottle without you having to ask. He has a soft spot for people younger than him and will never not watch out for you. Can you tell I have a soft spot for him?

Aragorn: Last but definitely not least, the Dúnedain. He is literally one of the best people to have around as a clumsy person - he has the experience from Elrond and the elves in general and knows his way around nature and the wild due to him being a ranger, so he knows how to take care of a wound. Heck, he had to do it to himself countless of times already. However, seeing you getting hurt so often makes his heart skip a beat every time and not in the good way. He worries about you, even if you claim to be fine. No matter how often you fall, stumble, bump against something or hurt yourself in any other way, he is by your side to take care of you. And he will care for you, no matter what you say. When you scraped your knees one time, Aragorn made you sit down on a log and cleaned your wounds before applying some of the ointment Elrond had given them before their departure. Only when he was sure that he had done everything he could, he would allow you to get back up and carry on. You would not get worse on his watch during this journey.  

[aheathen-conceivably]

Far atop the dusty downtown of Strangerville stood what felt like a different world. During the decades of the gold rush Eastern settlers had flooded the town and the settlements around it, displacing the people of the land even further as they dug into it for their own ends. The ones who succeeded ended up here, in Shady Acres, where they could look atop the empire they drilled into the ground.

Now, most of the houses sat abandoned, left to the disrepair of time and the harsh desert sands as the promise of ever greater riches took their owners further West to California and Oregon. There were little signs of life on the streets other than a lone truck making its way up the hillside, inhabited by two people who still weren’t quite comfortable being alone together anymore.

Gio directed Jo to pull to the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the town they had just driven from. She struggled to get the turn just right, but it was better than her other practice attempts, so he gave her a quiet smile of approval as she shifted the gear into park. Even from inside the metal truck they could hear the wind howling. It had been their constant companion on these near silent journeys up this road the past few weeks. 

He knew that the road further West was filled with places like this, miles and miles of winding curves and jaw dropping heights that would take a steady hand on the wheel. Antoine had taken one look inside the car and immediately refused to learn how to drive it. So burying whatever remaining fears and anger he had deep inside, Gio had gotten in the passenger seat with Jo and offered to teach her how to drive.

With every lesson, he knew that he was essentially giving her the tools she needed to leave him, the one thing he had been so afraid of that he was willing to lie and cheat to prevent it from happening. Now he felt like all he could do was sit by hope every inch he gave or silent acquiescence would serve to bind her closer to him rather than push her further away. Still in the back of his mind his fears kept nagging, so much so that as the day for her to leave came closer he couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

The wind kept howling, threatening to drown out his voice as he reached toward her. “Jo, mi raccomando…”

She braced herself for the same apology about his lie over the loan that she already had memorized. What more did he want her to say? She had stayed, hadn’t she? Stayed outwardly for Violette but really, quietly and inwardly, for all of them. Because she loved them all, but more than anything, because she loved him.

Only how was she supposed to tell him that? That she had fought back every instinct to leave so that she could stay with him, even if the price to pay to do so was that she would never trust him again. Because he had shown her that she had been wrong about him. He could hurt her, just as well as any other man she had ever known could. Except now that she had let him inside, now that she loved him, he could hurt her all the more. So she had to compensate somehow, to regain some sort of ground to stand on or she would be left weak to him doing it all over again.

“You don’t need to answer, okay?” Her head stayed turned just as he knew it would, and her hand went to the wheel as though the steady the car from the roar of the desert wind. It grew stronger as his voice grew more emotional, shaking the car and whipping across the top of the mesa.

“I can’t make you forgive me for any of what happened, but I’m sorry I didn’t support you and Antoine going on tour, or even really put you in the position where you could have chosen to do it for yourself and not to save us from some choice I made. I just…every time you walk out the door I’m afraid you won’t come home, that you’ll find someone or something else and I’ll never see you again.”

The sun was hitting directly in her eyes, mingling there with the stinging of tears that she tried her hardest to hold back. Only it was too bright, and she couldn’t possibly fight it, so one small tear after another rolled down her face while she stayed staring at it.

Whatever else he said after that was inconsequential as she let the sunbeams dry her unexpected tears; because he had already broken through her carefully constructed armor, made brittle by anger, restlessness, and love. But he couldn’t know that, or it would make everything she had done up to this point meaningless. The portion of the farm that was now hers, betraying Antoine, Zelda’s pained resolve, Violette’s angry confusion. She endured it all in some effort to regain control and hope for her own life; only it was so tenuous that she was convinced a few stray tears could undermine it all, so she made sure her face was completely dry before she turned to face him.

By the time she did so he had gone quiet and only a sliver of his profile could be seen. The rest of him was pretending to study the desert landscape, visibly struggling to adhere to his promise that he wouldn’t speak again until she answered him.

As it always did in moments like this, his vulnerability astounded her. He had meant every word he said, and he had spoken them without pause, trusting her to meet him halfway despite her track record of never having done so before. He had signed over a portion of his lease with a clenched fist only to climb into the passenger seat of his own truck, giving patient instructions with an anxious edge as she drove them further and further from town. Every choice he had made was in pursuit of some twisted idea of love, all the while she was guided by some nebulous idea of strength, the undeniable compulsion to never feel trapped again even if her own love had tried to temper it time and time again.

Jo reached over to touch his face and turn it toward her own. He gave no hesitation as he leaned into her touch, no questions and no judgement for the streaks on her face that must have still been visible from up so close. “Gio, look at me. I’m going to come home, okay?”

She left out that she wished this wasn’t home, some place she had no connection to or hope for, one filled with harsh desert winds barely keeping failed dreams afloat. A land of drought and struggle so incessant that it had almost worn down even her will. Some days it still felt like it was trying to accomplish what it nearly had when she was afloat in that bed, miserable and useless.

But shielded from it all inside the confines of his truck, with only his earnest expression and kind but well worn hands to anchor her down, suddenly it did feel like home. Or at least he did. So in a rare moment, she spoke without a single ounce of pretense or calculation, letting the need to keep herself in control float away on the howling wind. “I promise you, I’m always going to come home. No matter what.”

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars - Jude ending

Part 1

Part 1 - Jude pov

Part 2

Long awaited happy ending I TOLD U I WOULD DO IT SEE. pretty plz read part 2 before this i’m begging plz plzlplzpzlzpzlzpzl

—

Word count - 2.2k+

Watch it - MORE DIVORCE WOWOW. Carlos is so mean in this one sorreh.

Guys this feels like the end of an era like I’m so sad to see it end this was a JOURNEY

——-

Things change. As most things do, life moves on.

Jude remains in the back of your mind. After years of working away from the laughs that taunt you in the wind.

It comes back to him.

Your husband takes a back seat and Jude once again becomes the man who’s at the forefront of your mind.

While you’re pregnant with Carlos’s baby you thumb through pictures of Jude. Funny isn’t it. So funny you want to rip your own hair out.

You don’t know if it’s your own behavior that sparks a change but there’s a shift.

After the second altercation with Jude, things change. Carlos does less talking and more observing. He asks you to share your location at all times and you have no qualms. Not at first.

But it begins to get to much.

Where are you going, who are you with. What are you doing. Come home. Do you have to go out. No don’t go. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.

You half think it’s because of the baby and he’s simply worried for the both of you. It’s his fatherly nature kicking in.

But there’s a breaking point and it comes when you come home on a Sunday night.

——

“Hey baby.” You smile, setting down your little shopping spree for the baby. Just a few essentials. Blankets and bottles.

He doesn’t return your greeting. Head down in silence while he stares at the wall.

“Where were you?”

You frown, “not this again-“

“No. You keep going off to places without letting me know first I thought we talked about this.” he hisses.

You lean against the counter. ”I stopped to get a little snack?”

He shrugs. “You could have waited till you got home.”

You scoff. ”i'm pregnant Carlos, most things can't wait. You know how it is.”

”I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He mumbles.

“What did you say?”

He stands, facing you with brows furrowed. “Ever since Jude you keep running off. Are you seeing him?”

”Are you crazy?”

”i dont know look at how you’re acting. I’ve given you everything, and you keep sneaking off.”

”Im pregnant with your child for fucks sake and you think im with another man?”

”I’m not sure if its even my child anymore. Funny how he turned up again when you started to show.”

Your skin bristles. ”I’m going to give you a chance to take it back Carlos or else.”

”or what? You’ll go back to him? Maybe I should go and knock someone else up so you can know what it feels like.” his voice raises to a yell.

That’s just the thing isn’t it. Yo already know what it feels like. You watched it happen with Jude and now he accuses you of the very thing that almost drove you mad.

Tears burn in your eyes. You don't stick around for any more, taking your keys and walking to the door.

“Don’t you dare leave. You leave and you won’t see me ever again do you hear me. “ he screams, finger pointed at you.

You look back for a moment. Gone is the Carlos you love and replaced with this beast that hurls insults and accusations. You walk out, driving away to anywhere, anywhere at all as long as its away from him.

Your second heart break comes from Jude just like the first. Only this time indirectly and crumbles a marriage you once treasured more than anything.

You can't face his family. Certainly not his mother. Not after this.

——-

You go back to your families home. Back in your home town.

It shocks them, how you turn up at their door. You drove the whole way back, just like you did leaving.

Your mother cries for you and you don't have the heart to explain your end in full.

You’re due in about 3 months. And your days and filled with sorrow. You try you best. You know it’s not good for the baby. It’s a girl you find out. Carlos always wanted a girl. You try you really do but things are near impossible on your own.

You get a call from his mother, appolgizes tumbling from her tongue. Pleading with you for forgiveness. She tells you there’s always a spot for you in her home. If you’d like you can move in. They’ll take care of you here.

You thank her between sniffles but you say you don’t know. You just need time.

You’re nearing a breaking point yourself.

——-

Time is running out for you to make sense of things.

You miss Carlos, or well you miss the Carlos you once loved. The man who bought you a home just because he could and he listened to you.

The man who was so sure of loving you.

The only thing he seems sure of is pretending you don’t exist.

Maybe if you would have just taken Jude back when he first came to you

——-

Jude hears. Or course he does.

He promised himself to stop meddling in your life. To stop keeping up with you and just leave you alone. But when news reaches him. A piece of him breaks.

It’s his fault isn’t it. You had a home. A life. A marriage, a husband and very soon a little family.

There he goes again, ruining it.

He finds your contact info and it lays in his phone, u able to bring himself to press call. What buisness does he have in your life anymore truly.

What more can he do, say, feel?

The fields have long burned, only ash and ember in their wake. And still he recognizes them in a heartbeat. He knows you will too. For he knows you.

How can he apologize in a language you’ll understand?

——

You get a call from an unknown number while you leave another appointment. Same old same old, try to relax stress isn’t good for the baby blah blah blah. If you could relax you would but it isn’t that easy isn’t it.

You pick up before looking properly and a familiar voice comes to life. Jude.

He can’t stay away it seems. He can’t leave you on your own.

“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. If I knew i would have never-“

”its okay Jude.” You sigh. ”its not your fault. He just- changed and it scared me so bad.”

His voice hasn’t changed all that much, just a tad deeper.

You don’t blame him. You’ve forgiven him for everything. There’s a million ways Carlos could have handled things and he chose to blame you for it all. Choose the path of accusation. That is no one’s fault but his own.

“Do you need help?” Timid. Hesitant.

You pause. What else do you have to loose. The very least you need to figure something out for your baby.

You don’t have friends close enough to call up. Not even friends when you think about it. Acquaintances at best.

You consider taking up Carlos’s mother on the offer. Your baby would be well taken care of. Brought up in luxury and comfort. Nothing would ever be more than a stone's throw away.

But you run the risk of seeing him again. And you know if he were to find out it would create a whole other problem.

Your savings will cover 2 years max if you really stretch them out. And you know your parents cant keep you under their roof forever. You do need help. But you don’t know how to ask. How to accept.

He picks up on your silence. “No string attached I promise I just-“ he takes a deep breath, “- I can't do nothing. Not when you’re going through everything that you are. “

”Thank you Jude.” You sniffle. Tears forming in your eyes while you look into the sky.

——-

Jude sends movers to help you move your things into an apartment by the end of the week. All you have to do is get into your car and follow. You need to do something about the car. Its technically under your name. The one he got you as a gift.

You feel so out of lace in it. Maybe you’ll sell it. If not for the money to erase any traces of him for good.

Jude visits you the following week.

He’s grown. Oh how hes grown. A man now. He gives you the spare keys with a small smile. No red ribbon.

“Its set for a years rent and all. No need to worry. I figured you’d want to stay near your family so.”

You give him a hug, unable to stop yourself. Even if your belly makes it awkward he wraps his arms around you. He’s smiling.

“I cant thank you enough.” You’re crying again. Tears pooling in your eyes.

He helps you sit down on the couch, giving you his arm to steady yourself on. “Hey hey. It’s alright. I got you. No need to thank me.”

”why did you come?” you mumble. Hand still on his.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He picks at his pants.

”After all this time you still do?” You still love me?

“I never stoped. I told you as much.”

You nod. “Thank you again anyway.”

”Call me if you need anything. There's a chauffeur I use when I’m in the area. I'll give you his info too. Whatever you go give him a call. Or if you need any shopping done he’ll take care of it.”

”Are you sure?”

He smiles, “more than sure. Go rest now you’ve had a long week.”

———

You only hear from Carlos when he sends the divorce papers. You dont think twice. Signing them and sending them off to his lawyers.

His only request is to see his baby. You refuse at first but his lawyers are firm. So you come to an agreement one weekend at the end of every month. Starting when you recover.

You end up keeping the car.

You want nothing else from him. Just to never see him again. You can’t accept any apology after the way he disrespected you.

You mean it. More than you meant it with Jude.

——

Jude ends up coming to appointments when hes in town. You don’t know how it happens. But he goes. Holding your hand and letting you lean on him every step of the way. You never say no. In a way you need him. In many ways you do.

It’s familiar. Being with Jude. You slip back into old habits and he never corrects you. Just gives you a tight smile.

Every break he spends with you and within an instant the baby comes. Carlos is not allowed anywhere near you. You name her after your favorite flower and give her your last name.

She’s your whole world. You can barely hold back your sobs when they hand her over to you.

Jude drives you home from the hospital and skips pre season training to be with you.

He helps you with her and for a moment it's like this is the ending you always dreamed of. A glimpse of what could have been. If you only ignore that it’s Carlos’s child, you are not with Jude and you’re closer to his pity case than his lover. But you can dream.

——

“She’s crying again.” Jude mumbles, woken up from her cries.

He’s been sleeping on the couch. To make it easier for the both of you.

You groan, picking her up gently and trying to get her back to sleep. Nothing works her cries only get louder and you are on your last straw.

“Jude can you come here.”

He pads to your room, opening the door meekly as you stand with her in your arms. “Can you hold her while I make her bottle please.”

He nods, opening his arms while you gently set her in his arms. She fits in his embrace like she was made for it.

You come back with a bottle to your baby softly sleeping agaisnt his chest. Little cheeks snug agaisnt him while she breaths softly.

You mouth a silent thank you and let him out her back inside her crib. Tucking her under her blanket and giving her a little pat to the head.

You could get used to this.

——

You fall for Jude once more. As your little girl turns one you find a rhythm with him. She even calls him dad. You never correct her. There’s no need. He does all a father would and more.

Carlos drops from her life before she can even walk. You don’t care.

You make the trip to Spain yearly so she can meet her grandparents at the very least. This isn’t their fault. You hold nothing against them. His mother blames herself for her sons actions and you know nothing you say will change it.

Jude retires before he can turn 35. And you marry. Nothing outlandish. Just you and him and your baby at the court house.

You get ice cream on the way home and watch her favorite movies till she falls asleep.

“We made it back to each other in the end. “ He kisses your lips. Soft. Gentle.

You hum, pressing yourself closer against him. “Always you and me.”

The promises you made under the stars have found you after all. In your own home with your baby you love more than anything. Raising her and walking through life hand in hand. Even after everything, you don’t think anyone else would come back for you. Fight for you the way Jude has.

Your peace has come.

[somegirlontheinternet135]

Ok but, how cool would it be if there was a click & point adventure game and dating sim based around The Beasts

Like, imagine you, the player, woke up in a dark, unknown forest. You don't know how, or why, you got there, but one thing's for sure, you don't want to stay for long, who knows what kind of horrors could be lurking in the darkness. . ? Quickly you make use of the environment, gathering wood & making a fire (via a minigame) in hopes it'll alert some cookies to your location, and while it doesn't work at first, it does give a certain someone, or something, a beacon to your location. . .

As you sit before the fire you just built, you begin to notice something was off. . . the forest you were in, it was quiet, eerily quiet, normally at night, many forest would be bustling with some sort of life: the sounds of night beasts, owls in the night, maybe the occasional cricket, but there was nothing. What only adds to this uncanny wood were its lack of creatures, not once did you encounter any sort of beasts on your journey. . . both these factors alone made you question what was really happening, is this all a dream? were you going crazy? questions were racing through your head, till finally, something snaps you out of it. . .

"Ooooooh!~ What do we have here?~"

"Has a little cookie come by to give me a visit?~"

A voice from the darkness pulls you out of your thoughts, jolting you onto your feet. Hearing that so suddenly within such a vacant space, you could've sworn you were alone. . ! You frantically look around, desperately trying to find the source of the voice, but the thing only laughs at you. . .

"W-Who's there?! show yourself!!"

"*Ehehe he he he HE HE HE HE!*"

"Try looking up here, darling~"

Your attention was slowly drawn to a tree behind you. On one of the branches, two heterochrome eyes staired at your from below, taking you off-guard, was that. . . a cookie? The creature made zero attempts to hide themselves as he jumps off the tree branch, over your fire. Light from the flames revealed their figure, they appeared to be some sort of jester, its figure & face making them resemble that of a cat. They do a bow before finally introducing themselves

"Shadow Milk Cookie, the world's favorite trickster~"

"Pleasure to meet you!"

In this scenario, the player is given two options, each of course having a different outcome:

Run Away

Sprinting away in fear will, of course, cause Shadow Milk to chase, eventually getting caught, though this does increase his interest in you

"*heh he he HE HE HE!* where are you going you silly little thing?!~"

"That was so much fun!~ I think I'm starting to like you already!~"

Standing Your Ground & Ask Questions

Respectably, you don't anything regarding the fallen heroes, but asking more questions does leave Shadow Milk upset

"H-How could you not know who I am?!"

"Shadow Milk Cookie, actor, playwright, dictator, does that not right a bell?!"

This's basically how the story starts. The player is isekaied into this strange world and are quickly met with the Fallen Heroes, who all woo the player with their charm & status in an attempt to find out how they got in, so they can do the same to get out. . . whatever that means. But one thing leads to another, and they all fall in love with the player, fighting over them. As for the player, they transverse through the strange world, learning of it and its secrets via minigames, hidden secrets, and puzzles, all while learning about the fallen heroes and their backstories. . .

I picture the game itself being a mix between one of those disturbing click & point adventure games (i.e. Sally Face, Fran Bow, and Little Misfortune) and a dating sim (i.e. Obey Me) which by itself, would cause major emotional whiplash, cause imagine going from seeing the most messed up sh*t to smooching your jester bf. For reference, think of the game as "Little Goody Two Shoes" something you should play btw!

[thatfrailsoul]

_

P.s. See the full painting at the end!♡

_

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that when you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

_

_

Not every single opportunity and chance, no matter how good they are, needs to be taken and accepted into your life. Even if you wanted it for so long. Even if you waited. Even if you worked so hard for it before feeling this shift in your heart... You don't owe nothing to noone, but your own self and what simply feels right for you now.

There is nothing wrong in pursuing something and then discover that you are not really ready for this step now. It is okay to try it, and then realize that it's different from what you pictured in your mind.

It is fine and safe to don't take this chance, allow it to pass, leaving it to someone else. Because it is not the first nor last one. And even if it is - this shouldn't be the only reason you go for it in the first place.

We are complex, we constantly grow and change, feel so many different things, have so many ideas... And if by the time this opportunity came you just don't feel about it the same way anymore... It is okay.

Don't force yourself, if you already feel deep down that it's something that you don't want. Don't judge yourself only because you changed your mind and chose something that attracts you more now. You won't miss on anything, nor will you betray someone or yourself. You will just choose one journey instead of another, exactly like this life it's supposed to be.

And this opportunity will go to someone that feels like it's the right one for them, who will feel ready and truly excited about it. Leaving in your life more space for something that aligns with what you feel and crave now. For a different path, for a new beginning. Because it is not the end of this world or your life, it is only an end of a phase. And it's absolutely fine this way.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

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There is nothing wrong in standing your ground, in protecting your life, who you are. There is nothing wrong in not allowing others to change this aspect of you, of the way you see and feel this life. It is always and only should be up to you, to write your story, and to mold it adopting to new phases of your life.

Don't judge yourself, don't feel sorry for speaking up. Because if it's important for you, it should be important for others close to you too. And it shouldn't be a matter of if they allow you to live and embody this part of you or not. It should be only about whether they understand and accept your heart.

And if they don't... It is deeply sad, but it is right. It is right to protect yourself and walk away, from those that only love and support you when you do the things in their way.

It will be fine. You will make it through. You will find those that notice you and cherish you exactly for this part of you. And as time will pass... Even they will understand it. Seeing how much they lost when walking away you took from their life this part of you too. And finally understanding how much they were asking you to lose of you.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

_

_

Life is all about the experience. About experiencing different moments, trying different ideas, feeling so many emotions... Until we find the right ones for us, until we find out who we are and who we want to become. Life is all about trying, making mistakes, understanding that it's not for us and trying again. It's not about judging yourself for your progress, for your "luck", for the way our heart and mind change their decisions so often or so fast. Because there is nothing wrong with that, there is nothing wrong with living this way.

Because it is exactly how our journeys are supposed to be so we can truly feel it and understand it. The effect things have on your heart or our mind. Because you are not wrong, not committed, not intelligent, stable or mature... you are just a human who is growing each day. And that does it in the most natural way.

Don't try to limit yourself, your character, your emotions and ideas, the courage that you have to try. Because it's what makes you - you. It is what is molding you in the person that you are supposed to be, through all the experiences and answers, realisations, that it gives you each time.

Don't judge yourself only because others do. Life is different, experiences are infinite, and the way to go through them and live them depends only and exclusively on what we feel in our heart and the rhythm with which it chooses to pound for what makes it feel alive.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

_

"In the Garden of the Palazzo Colonna in Rome", 1867, Ludwig Von Hagn

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[kimpossibly]

symptom of life | rain carradine

pairing: rain carradine x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of blood (that’s not actually there)

summary: in the middle of her journey to yvaga, rain discovers r’s cryopod has opened.

author’s note: I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE THAT’S ALL :) send me rain requests if you want! i’ll be writing about her either way lol also this was supposed to be smut but I changed it last minute LMAOO, lmk if that’s something you guys are interested in seeing!

The first breath felt like a splash of ice cold water.

She was bathed in light the moment her eyes opened—white light, the kind that seared your eyes like staring directly into the sun. Sun. Rain.

Her hands stretched out and found the cold, hard, top of the cryopod. All it took was a little push and, with a hiss, the door swung open. Warm air flooded in. Like a creature reborn from its mechanical pod, she slinked out of her chrysalis and left, leaving only the vague imprint of a body behind as proof she was ever there.

As for Rain, she was on edge the moment she heard clanking from somewhere in the ship. At the sound, her heart nearly leapt into her throat, her toothbrush frozen in midair. At once, her mind was flooded with horrible realities—another Xenomorph had made it onto the ship somehow and was now lying it wait to sink its teeth into her. A parasite had crawled into the ship and was waiting for the perfect moment to spring on her and do its dirty work. Either way, she was screwed. Even worse, so was Andy. So was Y/N. Rain’s heart clenched at the idea of the two of them, helpless, locked in cryopods, oblivious to the terror around them. Even worse, she could picture the moment they awoke to find Rain a cold corpse.

No. Quit that.

Abandoning her toothbrush, Rain crept into the hallway, her fingers itching for a gun or a stick or some kind of weapon. Anything, really. But no, she was on her own. She should be used to that by now. Slow step by slow step, she followed the direction of the clanking, every movement a cautious twitch. She willed her heart to slow, but nothing would help. Eventually she entered the wide room where Andy and Y/N’s pods sat. Except now, something had changed—one of them had opened. Her body went cold.

She practically threw herself across the room to the still closed cryopod, and found Andy’s peacefully sleeping face in beneath the glass window. She let out a breath.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she whispered in relief, both to herself and to him. She looked to the empty pod, half expecting to see a bloody mess where Y/N was lying. But she saw nothing of the sort. The pod was just…empty. As though she’d gotten up and walked out of her own accord.

At once, Rain’s head was on a violent swivel, searching the room for her. She dashed out of the room and down the opposite hallway, her breath coming hard and fast. She was here. She had to be.

“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice sounding starkly unlike her own. She turned corners and searched rooms quicker than she ever thought herself capable of.

After a few minutes she was worried she was going to run herself in circles. She walked and walked and walked, barely keeping track of where she'd been and where she was heading. She searched like a madman, scanning every corner for her. She’s in here, she kept repeating to herself. I just have to find her.

“Rain?”

She froze. The voice was soft, gentle, like the voice of someone who didn’t believe what they were seeing. It made her arms cold and her face heat up all at once. She turned, and there she was, standing at the end of the corridor, her left arm still wrapped in a thick bandage like it had been when Rain put her in that damn pod. The sight of her caused her chest to seize, her eyes to burn, and her heart to pound in her chest.

Y/N, on the other hand, picked up her bare feet and ran at Rain the moment she saw her.

It was less of a hug and more of a desperate attempt to hold on and never let go, their chests colliding with such force that the air was knocked out of both of them. Rain wrapped her arms around Y/N and squeezed, ignoring the burn in her arms and the tears that cropped up in her eyes. Y/N’s shoulders shook with tears that she didn’t know were coming, but in an instant they were there, tracing warm rivulets down her cheeks.

“Hey…” Rain whispered into her shoulder, her voice choked, “you’re okay, baby. You’re alright.”

“I didn’t know w-where you were,” Y/N sobbed. Her voice was muffled in Rain’s shoulder. “I-I thought—“

“I know, I know.”

Y/N pulled away, cradling Rain’s face in her hands. “Are you okay? Where are we going?”

“I’m okay,” Rain said, smoothing Y/N’s wild hair out of her face. “We’re heading for Yvaga.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at that. She sucked in a breath, almost afraid to ask, afraid to jinx it. “Yvaga?” She breathed. “We made it?”

At that, Rain’s face broke out into a small smile.

“Yeah. We did.”

They were heading towards Yvaga. After everything they went through, all the shit that they survived, they were finally getting what they wanted. They weren’t going back to Jackson’s Star, they didn’t have to worry about being forced to work until the day they both died. For once, they were going to see the sun.

Y/N leaned in, pressing her lips to Rain’s. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in that pod—hours, days, months—but it’d been too long since she’d been able to feel like this.

Rain kissed her hard, grappling onto her waist like she’d lose her if she let go. She pulled away from the kiss, leaning her forehead against Y/N’s, her breath coming hard and fast.

“I love you,” she breathed, “so fucking much.”

Y/N felt tears sting her eyes—not the ones of fear and loss that she’d been used to lately. Real fucking tears. Happy ones.

“I love you too.”

[melkintoyou]

drunken kisses ft mark lee <3

The music was a hushed murmur, the lights softened to a gentle glow. You stood by the door, a little unsteady, a soft smile playing on your lips as the last of the guests trickled out. It was 2 AM, and your flat began to feel emptier, lighter. You exhaled a breath of satisfaction as the final guest departed, leaving behind only the closest of friends and your flatmate.

You drifted towards the warmth of laughter coming from the living room, sinking down onto the floor beside your friends. The glow of their smiles was a mirror to the happiness bubbling inside you.

"Y/N, we are so proud of you. Well done!" Your flatmate's voice cut through the buzz of contentment, offering you a glass of rosé. The room filled with a chorus of affirmations, sweet and genuine, as they celebrated your journey towards your dreams.

You accepted the glass, closing your eyes for a moment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you for coming, guys. It has been a great night."

The scene felt like a soft-focus shot from a coming-of-age film—a tender pause, a moment of stillness amidst the hustle. It was like Rocky at the top of those stairs, like the tunnel scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower, like Todd standing on his desk, defiant and alive in Dead Poets Society. It was one of those rare, full-circle moments that define a decade, shared with those who mattered most.

As your mind wandered, the world around you faded into a comfortable hum, the sound of home you had always yearned for. It was only when everyone cheered "AYY!" that you snapped back to the present, into the cosy embrace of your living room.

"Okay... truth or dare," Priya challenged Mark, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He shrugged, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Truth... I guess."

Mark, the newest addition to your group, was a quiet enigma. His moments of banter and laughter contrasted with the subtle shyness he often showed around you.

"Is there someone you want to kiss right now?" Priya's question cut through the air, and Mark's face flushed as he lowered his hat, trying to hide his expression.

"Yeah... I'm not answering that," he laughed nervously, glancing at you for a brief moment before looking away.

"Aha! So that’s a yes!" Priya teased, but Mark just took another sip of his drink, eyes flicking towards you.

A warmth spread through you, settling in your chest, a knot tightening in your stomach. But was it really a surprise?

You and Mark had always shared a special connection. Conversations that stretched into the night, discussing movies, literature, music, and art. You two fit together like pieces of a puzzle, an unspoken understanding in every exchange. You encouraged each other's dreams, laughed at jokes only you both got, always finding yourselves drawn together. Like peanut butter and jam.

Tonight was no different. Stolen glances, secret smiles, small gestures—a drink poured, a joke shared. It felt like the universe had conspired to create this night, perfect in its simplicity.

As the bottle spun again, landing on Johnny, Mark seemed to relax a little. Johnny' announced, "I would kiss Haechan right now," followed by exaggerated kissy faces, breaking the tension, and everyone laughed. The night carried on, filled with warmth and laughter, as the cold city outside seemed a distant memory.

Gradually, the energy waned, and your friends started to drift off to sleep. As you began to tidy up, Mark stood to help, falling into easy conversation.

"Well done, man. I'm proud of you," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "We've talked about this for so long, and to see you here, achieving it... it's beautiful. Y/N, it's an honor to watch you grow."

You smiled, his words warming you from the inside. You talked about the journey, the hard work, and the excitement of what lies ahead. Flirty looks and light-hearted giggles punctuated the conversation, a very familiar dance between the two of you.

A moment of surprise, you gasped "MARK!" and he playfully hushed you, Mark's hand gently covering your mouth. The touch sent a thrill through you, his eyes locking with yours.

"Sorry... mark," you whispered, both of you giggling.

"Yes, darling?" he teased.

"I need to show you something" you said, taking his hand and leading him to your room.

He collapsed onto your bed, a familiar scene, legs sprawled, hat tipped low. You rummaged through your bookshelf, mumbling titles until you found the one you were looking for.

"I want you to read this," you said, presenting him with the book. "I know the title suggests it's for women, but I think everyone should read it. It'll help you understand yourself in a deeper way."

He took the book, scanning the cover and blurb, nodding thoughtfully. "It does seem interesting."

Satisfied with his response, you began pacing the room, animatedly discussing the book and the journey it took you on. He listened intently, as he always did, making you feel like your words were the most important thing in the world.

Mark always heard you.

"I don't know, man... I think this will be good," he said, a touch of vulnerability in his voice. "I've been thinking about this a lot. Even before coming here, I panicked because I couldn't find my hat."

You stopped, turning to face him, giving him your full attention.

"I just feel safer with a hat on, you know? It’s like a shield," he admitted, his voice soft. "Or like a mask... my spider mask." A light hearted giggle fell from his mouth.

Stepping closer, you stood between his legs, a tender look in your eyes. Maybe it was the rosé, maybe it was the unspoken tension all night, but you reached out, gently lifting his face to meet yours.

"But..." you whispered, holding his gaze. "But you have such a pretty face. Why hide it?"

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken words and possibilities. Your eyes traced the line of his jaw, then drifted down to his lips. Time slowed, and your breath hitched.

"Yeah?" His voice was lower, his eyes darkening as he bit his lip. His hand found its way to the back of your knee, steadying you.

As if by some magnetic force, your hands traveled up to his neck, fingers lightly brushing the soft skin. You pulled off his hat, revealing his face in the warm glow of the room. His features were delicate, almost ethereal, and you studied him like a painting, your heart pounding.

"Such a pretty boy," you murmured, leaning in. And then, your lips met his.

It felt like the world had shifted, like the universe had stopped to witness this moment. His lips were soft, warm, fitting perfectly against yours. It was as if everything had led to this—the long talks, the shared dreams, the stolen glances. This was the culmination of it all.

His hands traveled up your legs, settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, a tender urgency building as you lost yourself in him. His heartbeat was a drum against your chest, echoing the wild rhythm of your own.

Just as you began to trace your nails down his neck, a loud "AHEM" broke the spell.

You both jumped, pulling away, breathless. Johnny stood at the door, smirking.

"So, there’s your answer, huh?" he teased, a knowing glint in his eye.

You and Mark exchanged a look, a silent agreement that this was only the beginning. In the quiet of the night, under the soft glow of the city lights, everything felt just right. It was perfect.

[missdawnandherdusk]

All Good Things to Those Who Wait

Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

There goes the last great American dynasty

Who knows if she never showed up, what could have been

There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen

She had a marvelous time ruinin' everything

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8

Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12

The Chapter That Never Happened  Chapter 13

Chapter 14  Chapter 15

Summary: tying up some loose ends :)

A/n: *emerges from the void*

Everything has an ending. The best stories, and the worst ones. Looking back at my story, there was no better ending I could have asked the stars for. I lost people I loved but I also stood for what I believed in and led an army to victory. No one would forget what had happened in those days. The days of the Great War. 

But what is life without tying up a few loose ends. You’ve come with me this far on this journey, and now as I look back, perhaps there are some things that you’d like to know. Some conversations you’d like to hear. Some people you’d like to meet or see again. So, here are those loose ends, tied together.

**********************************

I stepped onto the porch of my childhood home. It was in the efforts to try and find my mother, and try to find some peace and meaning after the past years. Draco came with me, at my side. 

“She’s not here,” I sighed, knowing before we even stepped foot in the house that my mother wasn’t waiting for me. “And somehow that hurt’s more,” 

“She’ll come in her own time love,” Draco soothed. Maybe he was right, or maybe I’d always be searching for her in the stars like I looked for my father. 

Draco and I sat on the porch that night, watching the sun set and the fireflies come to life in the meadow that blanketed around us. 

“You cast a patronus,” Draco said as I laid my head on his shoulder, watching the wildflowers dance in the wind. 

“I know,” A smile touched my lips. 

“It was a dragon,”

“Yeah,” I took his hand into mine, thinking back to the first night Draco cast his own patronus with my father’s wand. How things had changed since then. “My mother always told me that one day I’d find my patronus and it would watch over me like my father,” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“I don’t think you need anyones protection,” The humor in his voice gave way to the smile that I couldn’t see. 

“It’s still nice to have someone beside me—to fight alongside me,” 

He was quiet a moment before airing his doubts. “Do you think that maybe…” I knew where he was going with the thought, because it had been chipping at the back of my mind. 

“Because they’re so different we’re not meant to be together?” I mused, finishing his worried thought. 

“Yeah,” He sighed.

“No,” I sat up, facing him. “I think they’re just right for us. I’ve thought about it—more than I should. But in reality… if we think about it, your lion,” 

“Aslan,” Draco’s fingers brushed over my locket. A smile crept to my lips and I nodded. 

“And the first task,” 

“The what?” I had caught him off guard, a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Our fourth year, that first task of the tournament.” Realization struck him. 

“Our patronus’ show the start of us—when we really first started to trust each other.” I took his hand back into mine. “They’re not so different after all,” 

He laughed without fear and kissed me softly, before pulling me closer. “The start of us,” Draco mused, and maybe he could see them like I could: a younger me standing there, skeptically looking at a younger Draco. Before the war, before the long nights, secret kiss, tears, laughter, love and loss. Two kids who took a chance. 

When the sun cleared the horizon and its final rays fading, Draco and I headed inside—to the empty house that still promised to protect me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a knock on the door. In the week that we had been here, no one had disturbed out haven. No one knew we were here.

Draco looked up from his book. I dislodged myself from the couch and his arms, and went to answer the door, on guard. I stared at the one standing before me, not knowing how to quite process it. 

“Hi, mum,” I whispered. 

“Hello,” 

Time stilled around us. Everything came rushing to the surface only to be stopped by my unparted lips. One thought escaped. 

“I did it,” my voice was barely audible. 

“I’m so proud of you,” 

Tears stung my eyes. After all was said and done relief flooded through me more than anger did. Perhaps it was the peace that blanketed the Wizarding world that calmed my hurt. 

“Mum,” My voice broke into tears. Amity wrapped around us as—after years—I got a hug from my mother. 

“I’m so sorry, honey,” She whispered, stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry,” 

I nodded into her shoulder, letting all of my bottled-up tears come out. All of the stresses from war and the nightmares that plagued me at night—my mother was still there to hold me tight. It didn’t matter that I was still hurting from wounds she inflicted, to know she was there, willing to hold me tight, and call me hers was enough. 

“Y/n, are you—” Draco came out and paused. I pulled away from my mother and looked at him. He gave me a soft smile and nodded, heading back into the house. 

“Is he upset with me?” My mother asked. I laughed hopelessly. 

“I don’t know,” I said, wiping away my tears. 

“Are you?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” My voice softened. “There’s so much right now… so much to sort through…” 

“There is.” She didn’t deny it, and maybe it was comforting that someone outside of my peers acknowledged that I had been through a lot, and in turn that had caused a lot of heavy burdens on my heart and soul. 

My gaze drifted back to hers. 

“Do you wanna come in?” I asked. 

She shook her head. “That’s not what you want, nor need,” Reaching our she placed per hand on my arm, soothing me before I could argue. “I’ll be around if you need me, but until then, the house is for you—it always has been. Build a life,” She smiled and looked through the window—probably at where Draco was inevitably spying on us. “You’ve found a good one,” 

A smile touched my lips. 

“Thanks mum,” 

My mother inhaled sharply and nodded. “I’ll be off then,” Turning to go down the porch stairs, she paused. “He would be so proud of you,” 

Tears burned my eyes again, as I wrapped my arms around her, needing her to hold me just once more before I could let her go. Because in her arms was also the love of my father that was taken from me too soon by this war. A war that I saw an end to. And maybe in that moment, the war within me ended too. I wasn’t the daughter of a Death Eater and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I was the daughter of Walt and Elizabeth. And that was enough

“Goodbye my love,” My mother said softly. “I’ll always be around.” 

“Bye mum,” I smiled as she wiped away my tears. “I love you,” 

“I love you too sweetheart,” 

I waved goodbye, and with a spell, she was gone. I turned to go inside. The door clicked softly behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Professor McGonagall?” My brows pulled together. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” 

“This is a summons for you,” She held out a parchment, the usual stern look on her face was replaced with pity. 

I took the parchment and opened it, scanning the delicate print. My heart sank. 

“This is… this—“ I gaped. 

“I’m afraid so,” McGonagall sighed. “There was nothing I could do,” 

“Draco?” I called into the house. He was beside me in a moment. I handed him the parchment. “This is serious?” She nodded again. 

“I’m sorry my dear,” 

“A court summons? They’re putting her in trial!?” Draco demanded. 

“Kingsley is very set on it. And he is the new Minister,” 

“I saved the school! I helped defeat the Dark Lord! I—really!?” Tears pricked my eyes. 

“There’s got to be some mistake,” Draco insisted. “She’s not a Death Eater, she doesn’t even have the mark!” 

“I’m sure that the ministry will see that, but I’m afraid that I cannot do anything about the summons,” 

I scrubbed my face and sighed. “Thank you Professor. Can I invite you in for some tea?” 

“That’s very kind dear, but I’m afraid I must be on my way,” She bowed slightly then disaperated from the porch. 

I stood there a while, lost in my thoughts. Draco gave me a gentle squeeze and kissed the crown of my head before disappearing inside. My feet took me off the wood of the porch and into the softness of the grass. I sank to the ground beside a fence post. The sun began to set. My eyes watched the horizon. Millions of thoughts swirled around my mind with no discernible direction. 

Was there even a case for me to be innocent? Is this what everything I had worked for come to? To be seen as a criminal for holding a crumbling cause together? 

____________________

“Where is she?” Abby asked, helping Pansy through the fireplace. 

“Out front, watching the sunset,” Draco sighed, opening the front door. “She’s been out there a while,” 

“Can’t imagine why,” Pansy muttered. “They’re seriously putting her on trial?” 

“Yep,” Draco sighed. “All this time I thought I’d be the one, and yet…” 

“I’ll go talk to her,” Abby kissed Pansy’s cheek. “You guys get to work,” 

“Thank you, both,” Relief flooded Draco’s voice. 

Abby snagged an old afghan off the back of the armchair and went out through the small meadow. She draped the blanket around your shoulders and sat beside you in the grass. You laid your head on her shoulder. She could see the dried tear tracks on your cheeks. 

“How—how could they do this?” Your weak voice held deep betrayal. 

“I don’t know,” Abby answered honestly, taking your hand into hers. “But we’re not going to let them get away with it.” 

“I don’t—I can’t defend myself in court—I,” You dissolved into tears. “Haven’t I done enough?” 

“More than enough,” Abby affirmed. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna work it out—you’ll see,” 

“How?” You asked. 

“Well, you’ve gathered quite a few allies who owe you once or twice,” Abby pointed out. “And others who just love you anyway. Draco and Pansy are working on it now,” 

“Wha—what?” 

“We’re gonna build your case,” Abby promised. “And get you acquitted.”  

“They’re…” A sad laugh left your lips. You laid back on the grass. Abby knew you were searching for the first stars in twilight. 

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abby smiled at you. “Just rest,” 

The days past and my trial date approached like a storm on the horizon—but whether it was just rain or a hurricane, I couldn’t tell. Draco assured me that it would all be okay—he tried to tell me about everything done to build my case, but I wasn’t interested. Grateful, thoroughly, but I knew that if I learned anything about it, I would pick it up myself and try to fix it and my weary heart couldn’t handle that and keep beating like it was supposed to. 

So, I dressed smartly and took Draco’s hand before we took the Floo to the Ministry. I kept my head low, and tears at bay. 

Though Draco, Abby and Pansy accompanied me into the court room, I had to sit alone for the trial. The distance was drowning. I sat in the hard wooden chair, facing malice and prejudices. Kingsley looked almost predatory, as if he could pin the entire war on my shoulders, casting the blame on me. 

I flinched as the charges were read against me. The list of dead was longer than I thought. I didn’t dwell on the days of the Battle of Hogwarts, nor the events that occurred. They haunted me in my dreams, make no mistake, but what was real and what was a nightmare I lost the ability to discern. 

Was that much blood really on my hands? 

My faith in myself began to waver. Maybe I did deserve to be locked up. A few years in Azkaban with dementors sucking my life force might make me forget what I had done. 

Surprise flickered on my face as I saw Remus Lupin stand to my defense as an attorney. It was the first time that I had actually taken note of who was in the room. There had to be at least thirty people all gathered behind Draco and Pansy that I could see—more filed out the door in the back. All faces of those I loved, I had fought beside, I had grown up with. 

The static in my ears tuned in and out of Lupin and Kingsley conversing. It wasn’t until their voices raised to shouting that the static was drowned out. My eyes flickered up from he thread in my hands. 

“She cast unforgivables! She killed! She’s dangerous!”

“Death Eaters who were threatening our lives! The lives of wizard kind everywhere! She stopped a genocide!” Remus shouted back, obviously frustrated. “She showed remarkable strength and courage in a time of great darkness, and you will not diminish that.” 

“They are unforgivables! We have laws for a reason!”

“If I may,” McGonagall stood and the entire room quieted. “That list of names that you read was a long list of Death Eaters who have either escaped from Azkaban, or are known Death Eaters and have killed before. Miss Y/n had very hard decisions to make. The ministry found itself incompetent for lack of a better word. She, along with her friends, engineered an army to face the Dark Lord. Over the years what she went through has turned her into who she is today. She fought along side the other heroes who stand before you. She will be counted among them. You would not punish an Auror for the same thing and you will not punish her.”

“But—” Kingsley was red in the face. 

“If you put her in jail, you put the rest of the rebellion too,” The voice that piped up from the crowd surprised me. It was Harry. He stood and all eyes went to him. “Without her, I never would have been able to defeat Voldemort. Dozens more would be dead. You send her to Azkaban… then you’ll send me too,” A hushed gasp filled the room. A small one escaped my own lips.

“Mr. Potter,” Kingsley tried to regain control of the room. 

“And me,” Abby spoke up. 

“And me,” Neville stood. 

Soon everyone around me was standing on my behalf. Pansy, Luna, Ginny, all of the Weasleys actually, Ernie, Hannah, Emme, Blaise, Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fleur, Tonks, Remus, McGonagall, Moody, Sprout, Flitwick, and others I couldn’t see in the vast room. Kingsley faltered at the large defense behind me. 

“You send her then you send each one of us,” Harry spoke clearly. “I’m your stupid chosen one, even if she did something wrong, don’t I have clearance to pardon her or something?” 

A smile crossed my face. Intense silence stretched on consuming time and space until it was suffocating me. 

“Very well,” Kingsley sank back into his chair. “Y/n you have been cleared of all charges and sentencing. You are free to go,” 

Relief flooded through me as the room erupted in cheers. I met Draco’s eyes and he was smiling with pride. I collapsed back into that wooden chair in tears. There was a swarm of people around me, all making sure that I was alright, but they all parted for Draco to reach me. 

“Love?” He asked softly, kneeling before me. “I’m here,” He pulled me into his arms and we shared the embrace of lovers. As I exhaled, the weight of the world fell to the floor. 

I was free. 

I was acquitted. 

Now, I just had to find my innocence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Draco?” It was a crisp autumn morning. He looked up from the newspaper. “I’ve been thinking,” 

He smiled and set down the paper, giving me his full attention. I almost wished he didn’t. 

“I… I know it’s been a long road here… and since we’ve met it’s kinda been hell.” A sad laugh left my lips. “There’s a whole world out there Draco,” My eyes flickered to the willow growing outside the kitchen window. 

“Yeah?” He prompted softly. 

“Don’t you want to go see it? Be young and reckless and not have to feel like—like you’re running an entire school?” I gestured. 

“I do,” He confessed softly. “We are still young Y/n, we have a long life ahead of us,” 

“…You still want it with me?” I felt as if the oxygen was being vacuumed from my lungs. “We were just kids when we met Draco. We went through a war together—and now it’s over. The war. You don’t have to stay here,” This house was just as haunted as I was.

“What—where is this coming from?” Draco stood, rounding the small breakfast table. “I want to be with you. I want to share my life with you,” He took my hands into his. “So, let’s go travel the world together—learn who we are outside of the war.” 

Hope sparked in my chest. “Really?” 

He laughed softly. “Oh my darling, you are one of my best friends, I’ll go anywhere with you,” His words lured me to melt into his warm embrace. We sat on the kitchen floor. He stroked my hair softly. 

“Just for a while,” I mumbled. “There’s so much we haven’t seen,” 

“I know,” The smile was evident in his voice. “And it’s going to be incredible—and we’re going to learn how to heal along the way,” I nodded into his shoulder. 

“I was thinking about maybe even living muggle for a little bit,” The confession was a weight from my shoulders. “I need space.” 

“Okay,” His soft agreeable caught me off guard. “I think it would be good for both of us actually. And maybe even fun,” 

I laughed softly as tears formed in my eyes. Leaning against him I watched the morning sun move across the wooden floor. 

“I love you,” I whispered softly. “And if you… if I’m not…”

“Hush,” it was a soft reprimand. “I think you’re right. We need time away from it all. To find who we are away from it all,” 

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll come back,” I promised. 

“I know we will,” Draco smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Knowing you, you’ll want to come back and help build a better system,” 

My cheeks flushed red. I hadn’t told anyone about my ideas to make Hogwarts better—to make the Ministry better, hell to even make Azkaban better. It was time for things to change. I smiled to myself. Maybe I was more rebellious than I thought. 

And yet, Draco knew—he knew all the little plans in my head that were hidden just for me. Being known felt like belonging—and I belonged with him. 

**********************************

Traveling with Draco would always be saved in my memories until I died, and when it started to slip, it would be saved into a pensieve. I wouldn’t forget. 

We bought a muggle car and drove it until it felt right to stop. It wasn’t the famous places where we found ourselves, rather it was the forgotten places where we felt most at home. Where I could stand on a cliff edge and just scream and laugh and no one was around to hear me. Where Draco and I would sit at the edge of a river and send down leaves that held our biggest regrets, our losses, and our fears, learning to let go. Where we would sit in cafes and draw what we saw around us and enjoy pastries and tea. Where we could dance in the middle of a crowded room with other couples who didn’t know us from Adam. 

But that is a story for another time. 

For now, I’m sure you have a burning question that you’ve been waiting for me to answer. 

And yes. 

Draco did take me to go and see Phantom of the Opera in Paris like he promised. 

Oh, and we got married.

But, again, that is a story for another time. 

There is one last person I want you to meet before I close. 

**********************************

My heart caught in my throat. 

“Draco?” I squeaked out, leaning against the bathroom counter. “Draco!” 

“What? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He was frantic, looking for danger. 

“I’m… pregnant,” I whispered, looking at him in wonder. “Draco… I’m—“

“Holy harpies,” 

Realization flickered across his face as it rose into an elated expression of joy. A victorious laugh as he scooped me up and twirled me around our lavish bathroom, in our muggle flat in the suburbs of London. His joy was contagious as I giggled in his arms, holding onto him. He set me down, stroking my face softly. Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

Draco must have seen some fear linger in my stare. Some uncertainty that was well justified. 

“The war is over,” Draco reassured drawing me back into his arms. “They’ll be safe. We’ll make sure of it,” 

I nodded, curling my fingers into his sweater, my smile returning. 

“I’m gonna be a mum,” I laughed. 

“And you’re going to be absolutely brilliant.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Absolutely brilliant.” 

“And you’re gonna be a great dad,” Tears pricked my eyes. “God, I don’t know the first thing about being a parent,” A nervous giggle left my lips. 

“We’ll learn and figure it out,” He stroked my cheek softly, stealing another kiss. 

A thousand parenting books, a baby shower, and a few doctors appointments later, Draco and I were curled up on the couch in our flat as the fire crackled in the hearth. 

We had yet to settle on a name—to be fair we narrowed it down a lot, but with every new suggestion came a new round of anxiety that it wouldn’t be just right. It left me up at all hours thinking of it; so much so that Draco had to find a pregnancy safe sleeping potion so I could get proper rest. 

“Elizabeth?” Draco mused, after my mother. I pursed my lips. It had been a suggestion that circled around. 

“I’d like it as a middle name,” I decided, the thought had been mulling over in my mind. 

“Okay done,” He smiled, reaching over to stroke my stomach before resuming his massage of my sore feet. 

“Still need a first name.” I pondered, leaning my head against the back of the couch. “Narcissa?”

Draco snorted. “I’m not calling our daughter by my mothers name,” 

My heart fluttered when he said our daughter. 

“Well we need something,” 

“How about Lucy?” That was a new suggestion: one not voiced by either of us. 

“If that’s some way to get me to name her after your father I swear to Merlin—“

Draco burst out laughing shaking his head. 

“Godric, no. Ugh,” he chuckled. “No, love, Lucy as in the first one to find Narnia. Ya know, that book you read to me all those years ago. The current theme of our nursery?” 

“Oh,” my eyes widened at the thought, my heart softening. “Lucy,” I looked down, caressing my stomach when I felt something odd. Frowning I pressed my palm over the area. Draco caught my confusion and grew very concerned. 

“What? Is she alright? What wrong?” 

“Nothing,” I grinned. “She’s kicking—I think she likes her name,” I reached out for his hand and placed it in the same spot where mine resided as I felt her kick again. 

“Hello little Lucy,” Draco whispered softly. “I can’t wait to meet you,” 

Tears pricked my eyes as I watched him talk to her softly. And like every night, Draco got up and made me my tea that had Sleeping Draught in it—which he brewed specifically for me. It reminded me of our school days when he would spend class time brewing me anti-anxiety potions. It warmed my heart that his habit didn’t wane even with the years past.

That night my eyes fluttered open. I woke in the night, barely awake and ready to fall asleep again when I heard a soft voice. At first I thought Draco was trying to speak to me but I quickly realized that he was talking to someone else. 

“You’re going to be one of the greatest wizards to ever walk the earth,” he murmured softly. “You’ll be kind and smart like your mother. You’re going to love her so much. We already love you so much.” 

I let my eyes drift closed as a smile touched my lips. I resisted the urge to reach out and take Draco’s hand, in fear that he might become bashful about the situation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A small bundle of warmth rested on my chest, peacefully sleeping. My hand rose and cradled the small thing, tears pricking my eyes. My other hand was still clinging to Draco’s. 

 Lucy Elizabeth Malfoy. 

There were tears in Draco’s eyes as he reached out and with the softest touch caressed her tiny head. 

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured. “You did so well,” 

Exhausted, I let my eyes close, knowing that all was right with the world. Lucy would grow up in a world free from the threat of Voldemort and Draco would be by my side to protect her. We had already bled and fought and now we would make this new world we fought for, right for her. 

A new legacy. 

A new hope. 

.

masterlist

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more like this:

two by two

Beautifully Beastly

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[illubean]

OMG SORRY FOR NOT SPECIFYING😭😭 I MEANT LIKE AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER

JJBA Men W/ an Avatar!S/o

Characters: Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Wamuu, Risotto Nero Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

ALL GOOD LMAOO also i lwky didn't know how to write kars ghiaccio or diavolo/doppio for this AND I COMPLETELY MISSED THE FEM READER PART OF YOUR REQ IM SO SORRY

Warnings: none?

Jonathan Joestar

thinks it's just a very powerful manifestation of hamon and doesn't question you further

it's relatively new to him so he doesn't doubt hamon can manifest itself in the elements

no matter how strong you are he still has strong instincts to be the one to protect to you

he doesn't want you to so much as lift a finger against anyone; he's got it don't worry your pretty little head

very gentlemanly and treats you like royalty simply because he thinks you deserve it, not because he underestimates you

he's amazed if he is ever able to see you in action

he also finds it very noble of you to use your powers to try and maintain balance in the world, even though he doesn't understand how a single person could do that

he likes to stand watch if you are ever to journey to the spirit world, making sure your body is safe and unbothered

Joseph Joestar

very confused on how you're able to control the elements in the first place

what kind of fancy hamon is this!?

he's seen weirder things on his adventures so he chooses not to dwell on it too much

probably asks you to use your bending for silly things, like party tricks or to play pranks on Caesar

this guy is always picking on you (lovingly) and never learns his lesson no matter how many times you use your bending to retaliate

you blew him across the room? he's getting right back up and trotting back towards you

you drench him with water? well now he's gonna grab you and get you wet too

if you can heal with your water bending he will always come to you for assistance, no matter how large or small his injury is

Jotaro Kujo

confused as to why he can't see your stand

even when you explain to him that it's bending and you have to master all the elements because its your destiny or whatever his brain is like "hm. glorified stand"

don't try to convince him of a difference, he won't get it

he's seen Avdol use Magicians Red a handful of times but he finds your fire bending to be even more impressive

asks you to use your bending for a light sometimes

your earth bending was SO useful during the fight against Wheel of Fortune

it was perfect for both offense and defense

he already acknowledges you as a strong individual but if you can BLOOD BEND?

very very impressed (maybe a little frightened but he wouldn't be caught dead admitting that)

he's a little embarrassed if you use your water bending to heal him, turning away to hide the little blush on his face from how close you are

Wamuu

you're one of the few humans he holds respect for (well...if you're human)

you are a strong fighter and take your efforts seriously

you guys are completely different; you keeping balance and him being an accomplice to world domination

but he still holds an odd kind of admiration for you

if he is to ever see you fight, especially in the avatar state, he'd think your strength could be on par or even more than him and the other pillar men

Risotto Nero

he doesn't question how you got your abilities

he could care less about your bending tbh, he's encountered many odd stand users and someone who can control the elements is probably one of the more normal abilities he's come across

though he doesn't outwardly express it, he really cares for you and is concerned about you if you are ever to fight anyone or get hurt

he would never forgive ANYONE who hurts you

and he also wouldn't forgive himself if he let you get hurt so he tries to keep you as far away from his italian mob craziness as much as possible

even if you are very strong and capable of handling things yourself he still tries his very best to protect you

[minsarasarahair]

As someone who already graduated from liking WangXian too much and not a fan of romantic HuaLian, I'm actually surprised I like BingQiu than I expected?? I really enjoyed their transition from platonic to romantic relationship. There are moments where you just enjoyed how emotional the scene is without shipping them. I only start to ship them in Book 3. Its a good move that the story don't always make BingQiu's scenes look romantic from Shen Qingqiu's perspective so you don't have romantic lens when you're looking at Luo Binghe as love interest. My problem in WangXian and HuaLian are they start strong at first and I ship them in the beginning but I lose interest quickly after the confession. But in BingQiu its the opposite, I like their master-disciple dynamic at first and it took a while before I like them as couple so I'm more interested in their after-stories antics. Its a short story after all but I feel really satisfied in their main story ending. Sometimes the ship that will stay in you is the least you expected, that's BingQiu to me. I also read Sha Po Lang (yifu kink) and Tian Ya Ke (cannibal gong) before my reading experience in SVSSS so I'm not disturbed that much.

What's more surprising is I really like Luo Binghe?? He's the only gong by MXTX that I'm actually invested in reading. Maybe because he felt like a hero? Not a love interest? He's a novel's protagonist after all so maybe that's why? Shen Qingqiu felt like the love interest instead. Its fun to read his good and ugly sides. I like his journey of finding out if Shen Qingqiu deserve his trust or not after the betrayal and their growth as flawed couple. I still stand that Hua Cheng is the most terrifying and unhinged MXTX gong for me which make sense because they are gods and ghosts. Xie Lian is also calmer than Shen Yuan so yeah. Imagine TGCF from Shen Yuan's perspective and see how scary Hua Cheng is.

[breannasfluff]

Lost Without You

Whump Rating: 2/5 TW: Depression

The shadow is defeated. A portal appears and the Chain knows, this is the final one. Tears are shed, promises and light-hearted threats are made, and everyone gives a last hug goodbye. Then, one by one, they step through the portal and vanish.

They were already in Wild’s world. He’d already gone through his last portal without realizing it. The blackness swirls, sucks in, and vanishes. The champion stands in the grass field, alone. The breeze blows through the grass, turning it into waves over the low hills. Far away, a wild horse whinnies. Then silence falls again.

Wild stares at the spot where his family vanished for a long time before finally turning in the direction of home.

Things aren’t the same after the journey ends. Link—no need for a nickname, now—goes through the motions. He helps Zelda, speaks with Purah, and tries to fall into the rhythm of life. The little house in Hateno, despite how he loved it previously, is too empty, now. Each corner is filled with memories of eight other boys and men laughing, joking, and filling his life with joy.

He can’t sleep in his bed without remembering times Wolfie curled up at his feet, or Hyrule crawled in and clung to his arm after a bad dream. The horse shed reminds him of Time, chewing on a piece of straw and telling ridiculous stories they couldn’t discount. With the old man, anything could be true.

Finally, Link gives the house to Zelda for her research and sets out to circle Hyrule. He’ll check in with the other races and towns. Maybe there he’ll find the meaning he lost. Yet each place holds the happiness of people moving on, while he is stuck in the same place.

Friends marry, break up, learn new skills, and build homes. Families change; growing and shrinking, yet never dying. Their lives are ever-churning onward. With each town, Link finds himself looking forward to the next less and less. He no longer has a family to visit. Well, it’s not a bad idea to travel the wilds. He’s often more comfortable there than anywhere else.

At first, it’s a good idea. The wilds are quiet and he falls into the rhythm of nature. There are no travelers out here and he can go days without needing to speak. After a while, he starts chatting to the air, telling his missing companions about his travels.

“There’s a fox mother in a den over there. I snuck up and looked at the kits. I think she noticed me, but I made sure not to get too close. Oh, some grasshoppers; I should catch them for making elixirs in the future. You know, I really cleaned out my stores making potions for everyone.”

The only answer is the wind. Link is quiet for the rest of the day.

The weeks blend together and he fully gives up on seeking out towns. Even traveling is losing its appeal. What’s the rush? There’s no goal; no people who need him to check in. He told Zelda when he left he’d be off the grid for a while.

What’s the use of a hero after the journey is over? He’d barely had time to settle after the first one before he was dumped into the Chain. Now, an eternity without his family looms. Each day, Link rests a little more. For each meal, he has a little less. He’s just…not hungry.

Slowly, he numbs to his surroundings. He takes an infrequent wash when he comes across a lake, but there’s no one to worry about. Link wakes tired and lays on his bedroll for hours, debating getting up and moving further. He collects less until he’s only depleting his supplies, not adding to it. Well, that’s easy enough to fix; he’s not hungry anyway.

Link doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. He could warp home; warm to a shrine or a town. Maybe he should be around people. But the idea of talking to people? Socializing? Keeping up the persona of a hero? It’s exhausting.

Mostly, Link sleeps. Maybe, one day, he’ll climb back into the shrine and they can suck the life back out of him. This body is on loan, anyway. Maybe next time, they’ll find a better hero to fill it with. Someone whose family is still around to support him.

Someone is screaming.

This is odd for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that Link is in the middle of nowhere. Someone could have encountered a rare enemy, but the scream is…excited? And raising in pitch and volume.

“Where is he?”

“The gem should take us right to him!”

“Do you think he’s underground?”

“What—where do you come up with these things?”

“Like a cave—wait, look over there.”

Huh. That sounds a lot like Wind and Warriors. Silly, because they are gone. Everyone is gone. Maybe this is it. His mind snapped and now he’s hearing voices.

Footsteps get louder and Warriors looks down at him in the grass, hands on his hips. “What in hyrule are you doing down there?”

Wind’s face pops into view, showing off straight white teeth when he grins. “Hey Wild! We missed—hey.” The smile fades, excitement seeping out. “Did something happen to you? You look, uh…”

“You look like shit,” Warriors finishes. He leans down, reaching out a hand. “You good? What happened?”

Link doesn’t take the hand, just stares at them. “That’s it,” he whispers. “I’ve gone crazy. Hallucinations.”

Wind socks him in the shoulder, much too hard to be a hallucination. “Get up! Warriors got a crystal! We need to get the others!”

“What…?” Link finally sits up, then stands. Woah, his legs are kind of shaky. Warriors grabs him, then hisses as his hand closes on a shoulder.

“How skinny are you? Wild, seriously, what happened?”

He transfers his gaze to the captain, slowly tracing over familiar features. “You left.”

“Yeah? Didn’t you have people to come home to?”

Link shrugs. “Not my family.”

“Wild? Are you okay?” Wind tugs on his tunic sleeve. “Did you miss us?”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes for a long moment. “A lot. How—how are you here?”

The captain snorts and waves a gem on a chain. Took a while, but I got Cia to make a gem that will let heroes open portals. We’re picking everyone up to see how things are going.” He looks Link up and down. “You, my friend, are in dire need of some help.”

Link stares at his feet. “I don’t…know what to do anymore.”

Wind leans against his side, wrapping him in a half hug. “You rely on your brothers. We’ll get you back on your feet, okay? Twi is never going to let you out of his sight again.”

For the first time in a while, Wild smiles. “Let’s go see our family.”