#bit of a sad day too but we forge on

[whaliiwatching]

Im goijg to eat your art oh my goodness

honestly you are probably the sole reason i began shipping noirpunk THEYRE SO FUCKING ADORABLE

glad to be recruiting for the cause! this one tastes like sugar cookies. perhaps also arsenic but who’s to say

[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 

[perfectsunlight]

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟖𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐨

know that i loved you so bad

i let you treat me like that

i was your willing accomplice, honey

you were in the middle of talking about your day on the phone with your girlfriend. the both of you went to the same school, but of course her idol duties put her out of the classroom all the time. you were no idol, naturally leaving you and minji with a bit of estranged distance since you rarely saw her.

“oh, and then one of the fire alarms went off–” “can you just stop talking?”

minji’s sharp voice cut you off mid sentence. the suddenness of her words left you stunned, the hurt hitting you like a swift blow to the chest. the silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, as if the weight of the unspoken emotions hung in the air between you.

your mind raced, desperately trying to comprehend what had just happened. this was supposed to be your moment, a chance to share your day with her, to bridge the ever-widening gap that her job had forged between you. 

and yet, here you were, your heart sinking as her cutting words echoed in your ears.

"i've had a long day, and i just don't really feel like hearing you ramble right now." the idol said monotonously on the other line, her words landing like a cold, heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. each syllable felt like a dagger, twisting and turning in the wound that was already so tender. 

it was as if the person you once knew, the one who used to hang on your every word, had been replaced by someone distant and indifferent.

your voice caught in your throat, the hurt and confusion making it impossible to form a coherent response. you had hoped that your words, your voice, could be a lifeline to bridge the gap between your worlds, but instead, they seemed to have driven the wedge even deeper.

the words hung in the air, the silence stretching out like an eternity. what had you done wrong? was it your fault that you couldn't understand the pressures of her life, the demands of her career? a sinking feeling settled in your chest, a mix of sadness and anger, a complex emotion that was hard to untangle.

you could feel your own heart squeezing in your chest, the vulnerability of the moment leaving you raw and exposed.

the person you loved, the one who used to make your heart skip a beat, had just dismissed you with a single sentence. the sharp contrast between the past and the present was a painful reminder of how much things had changed.

"i understand that you're tired," you managed to say, your voice trembling with a mix of sadness and resignation. "i just thought maybe we could talk, even if it's just for a little while."

the line remained quiet for a moment, the silence heavy with unspoken words. you could almost picture minji on the other end, her expression impassive, her eyes perhaps staring off into the distance, disconnected from the conversation. 

it was a stark reminder that you were now a secondary character in her life, a role you had never anticipated playing.

"i don't know what to say," she finally responded, her voice lacking any warmth or emotion. "i'm just not in the mood for this right now."

those words felt like a final blow, a confirmation that the divide between you had grown too wide to bridge. the tears you had been holding back now spilled freely down your cheeks, each droplet a testament to the pain that was too deep for words.

you wanted to tell her how much you missed her, how much you longed for the connection you once shared. you wanted to ask her if there was a way to mend what was broken, to find a way back to each other. but the weight of her indifference hung heavy in the air, suffocating any words that might have brought solace.

in the end, all you could manage was a whispered, "okay." and with that, you hung up the phone, the silence on the other end echoing the emptiness you now felt inside. 

and i watched as you fled the scene

doe-eyed as you buried me

one heart broke, four hands bloody

the next few weeks were a continuation of that one evening. minji stopped calling you, she left you on read often, and occasionally she wouldn’t even read it until the next day. this was not the kim minji you fell in love with.

no, this was entirely someone different. your minji would never do this to you.

the minji you loved always asked about your day, always called even just to say goodnight. 

the minji you loved always asked about your day, always called even just to say goodnight. she was the one who made you feel like you were the most important person in her world.

but now, that minji seemed like a distant memory, a bittersweet echo of a time that was slipping further and further away. the weight of her absence bore down on you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over every aspect of your life. the joy you used to find in the simplest of things now felt hollow, incomplete.

you found yourself constantly checking your phone, hoping for a message, a sign that she was thinking of you. each notification that popped up only brought a pang of disappointment as it turned out to be from someone else. 

you wondered if you were being too needy, too clingy, but deep down, you couldn't help but feel that something was fundamentally wrong.

nights were the hardest. 

the absence of her goodnight messages left a void that was difficult to fill. the empty space beside you in bed seemed to grow colder each night, a physical reminder of the emotional distance that had come between you. you missed the sound of her voice, the way she used to tell you about her day, about the small victories and the challenges she faced.

you began to replay that evening in your mind, searching for clues, for any possible explanation for the sudden change in her behavior. had you said something wrong? was there something you could have done differently? the uncertainty gnawed at you, feeding into your insecurities and amplifying your pain.

those things i did

just so i could call you mine

the things you did

well, i hope i was your favorite crime

one afternoon, you found yourself waiting in line at a fansign for new jeans. you didn’t tell minji you were coming, since you thought it would be a good idea to surprise her with your presence. it had been over a month since you had seen your girlfriend, and you were over the moon to just see her face again.

especially since you had found yourself ditching your last period of class to come to this event.

the atmosphere around you buzzed with excitement, the energy of the fans filling the air. the posters, the merchandise, the anticipation—it was all so overwhelming. as you inched closer to the front of the line, your heart raced with a mixture of nervousness and eagerness.

finally, it was your turn. you stepped up to the table, and there she was, looking every bit as stunning as you remembered. her hair cascaded in waves, her eyes sparkled, and her smile was radiant, lighting up the entire room. for a moment, it felt like time stood still, and all the pain and uncertainty of the past weeks melted away in the warmth of her gaze.

minji looked up from signing the album placed in front of her, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. "you?" she exclaimed softly, a mixture of shock and something else you couldn't quite place in her voice.

"hey," you managed, your own voice a little unsteady. "surprise."

a range of emotions seemed to play across her face—surprise, confusion, and something akin to disgust. but she quickly masked them, putting on a professional smile as she continued to sign your album. the brief interaction felt surreal, like you were strangers meeting for the first time, and the dissonance was almost painful.

"thank you for coming," she said politely as she handed the album back to you. you held onto the album, your fingers trembling slightly as you searched her eyes for a hint of the minji you once knew.

before you could respond, a staff member gently ushered you along, reminding you that there were other fans waiting. 

minji didn’t bother looking back at you, not even once.

and just like that, the fansign moved on, and you were left standing there, clutching the album to your chest. the encounter left you feeling both heartened and heartbroken, a reminder that surprises weren't enough to mend what was broken.

but maybe it was your fault for not understanding? minji was an idol. she was busy with her schedules and promotions. of course she isn’t going to have time to see you. surely you should understand that, right?

however, you couldn’t understand why she acted the way she did towards you. little did you know it would only get worse.

you used me as an alibi

i crossed my heart as you crossed the line

and i defended you to all my friends

“y/n, come on. you can’t keep defending her.” sullyoon said bluntly, pointing a finger in your direction as she glared at you.

your best friend had been present to witness yet another one of you and minji’s arguments. this time, you called your girlfriend asking for a day she’s free to hang out with you, only to be met with an argument with her.

minji blamed you for being late to her photoshoot because you called her at a bad time. she also blamed you for making her stressed out with all of your constant messages.

you sighed and looked down, the weight of sullyoon's words hitting you like a ton of bricks. she wasn't wrong, and deep down, you knew it. you had been trying so hard to defend minji's actions, to justify the distance that had grown between you, but at what cost?

"i know," you replied quietly, your voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "it's just... i love her, sullyoon. i don't want to give up on us."

sullyoon's expression softened, and she stepped closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "i know you love her, y/n. and i'm not telling you to give up. but you deserve someone who treats you with kindness and respect, who values your time and effort."

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, your heart aching with the truth of her words. you had been holding onto the memories of the past, the love you once shared, but the reality of the present was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

"it just hurts, you know?" you admitted, your voice quivering. "to feel like i'm not enough, like i'm the one causing her stress and frustration. she’s an idol and i feel like i should understand better."

sullyoon pulled you into a gentle hug, offering you a source of comfort in the midst of your turmoil. "you are enough, y/n. relationships are supposed to be a two-way street. it shouldn't be one-sided, and you shouldn't have to constantly defend yourself." 

as you buried your face in her shoulder, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your emotions crashing over you. the love you had for minji was still there, strong and unwavering, but it was becoming painfully clear that love alone might not be enough to mend what was broken.

“and i’m an idol, too. but i still make time to talk to you more than minji does.” she added, patting your back gently. “she’s just making excuses.”

with a heavy heart, you pulled away from sullyoon's embrace, wiping away your tears. "i need to have a serious conversation with her, don't i?"

sullyoon nodded, her gaze filled with empathy. "yes, y/n. you deserve to be heard, and you deserve honesty. anything less than that is not enough.”

and now, every time a siren sounds

i wonder if you're around

'cause you know that i'd do it all again

after two months of not seeing each other, you and minji finally had arranged a time to see each other. it was actually minji’s idea to meet up and have lunch together. 

after two months of not seeing each other, you and minji finally had arranged a time to see each other. it was actually minji’s idea to meet up and have lunch together. the anticipation and nervousness you felt were palpable as the day approached. a part of you hoped that this would mark a turning point in your relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

as the day dawned, you found yourself getting ready with a mix of excitement and trepidation. your heart raced as you drove to the restaurant you both had agreed upon. the familiar sights of the city felt almost surreal, like you were stepping into a dream. you couldn't help but replay the upcoming meeting in your mind, wondering how it would unfold.

when you arrived at the restaurant, your heart skipped a beat as you saw minji waiting outside. she looked just as stunning as ever, a mix of nerves and excitement in her eyes. for a moment, it felt like time had stood still, and all the struggles and pain of the past weeks faded into the background. it was just the two of you, like it used to be.

"hey," you called out softly as you approached her, a tentative smile on your lips. minji's face became visible as she turned to you, a half smile tugging at her lips. "hey," she replied, her voice a mixture of nonchalant and monotone.

the awkwardness that had been present in your recent interactions seemed to intensify in that moment. as you sat down at a corner table, there was an unspoken dynamic. minji was acting like an idol, not like your girlfriend.

the conversation started off hesitantly, with small talk about each other's lives. minji talked about her busy schedule, her recent projects, and the demands of her idol career. you sat and listened attentively, unsure if you should say anything yet about a breakup.

when there was a pause in her monologue, you took a deep breath and finally spoke up, your voice soft but determined. "minji, i think we need to talk."

she looked at you, her expression not changing much, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe surprise, maybe annoyance.

"what's there to talk about?" she replied, her voice tinged with a touch of irritation.

your heart ached at her dismissive response, but you pressed on, knowing that you needed to be honest. "i miss us, minji. i miss the way things used to be between us. but lately, it feels like we're living in two separate worlds. your career, your fame—it's all so overwhelming, and i feel like i'm being left behind."

minji's gaze remained fixed on you, her eyes guarded. "you knew what my life was like when we got together. this isn't something new."

"i know, and i tried to be understanding," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion. "but it's not just about your career. it's about how we've changed, how our relationship has changed. i want us to be partners, to support each other, but it feels like you're closing yourself off from me."

minji's expression hardened, her walls going up even higher. "so, what are you saying?"

your heart ached as you looked into her eyes, searching for the minji you used to know, the one who would have listened and cared deeply. 

"i'm saying that maybe we need to take a break. to figure things out, to find ourselves again. i don't want to keep feeling like i'm fighting for your attention, like i'm the one causing you stress."

the silence that followed felt suffocating, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air between you. minji's lips tightened, and you could see a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. and then, finally, she spoke, her voice laced with anger.

"you're giving up on us just like that?" her tone was sharp, accusatory. "it's not about giving up," you said softly, your voice trembling. "it's about recognizing that we both need to be happy, that we both need space to grow."

minji pushed her chair back abruptly, her face contorted with frustration. "i can't believe you're doing this. after everything."

you reached out for her, your heart aching at her reaction. "minji, please understand. this is tearing us apart. maybe some time apart can help us find our way back to each other."

the restaurant seemed to fade into the background as minji's words pierced through you like a knife. her anger was palpable, her frustration a tangible force. you watched as she stood there, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger, her voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.

"i can’t believe i took time out of my busy schedule to come on a date with you for the first time in months and all you’re doing is this?" her voice trembled with a mix of emotions, and you could see tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

you swallowed hard, your own heart breaking at the pain in her voice. "minji, i didn't want it to be like this. i thought a break might give us a chance to work through things, to find a way back to each other."

she shook her head, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "you think this is what i want? you think i'm happy with the way things have been?"

the raw emotion in her voice cut through you, a stark reminder that this wasn't easy for her either. but her anger was so intense, so overwhelming, that it felt like there was no room for understanding or compromise.

"i don't think you're happy either," you said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. "i just thought maybe this break could give us a chance to heal."

minji's gaze bore into yours, her eyes blazing with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "you think i need healing? you think i need you to tell me what's wrong with my life?"

the accusation in her words stung, and you felt a mixture of guilt and frustration swirling within you. "no, that's not what i meant."

"of course it's not what you meant," she spat back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "you always know what's best, don't you?"

you closed your eyes, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy burden. it wasn't supposed to end like this, with anger and accusations. 

but the reality of your relationship had become so tangled, so complex, that finding a way forward felt almost impossible.

“i'm not saying i know what's best," you said, your voice cracking with the effort to hold back tears. "i just thought maybe a break could help us both find some clarity."

she turned away from you, her fists balled as if trying to hold back the flood of emotions and her jaw clenched. "i can't do this right now. i can't talk about this."

you watched as she walked away, her steps hurried and determined. the restaurant felt cold and desolate, the aftermath of the conversation leaving you feeling hollow and defeated. 

it was supposed to be a chance to reconnect, to find a way back to each other, but instead, it had only driven a deeper wedge between you.

all the things i did

just so i could call you mine

the things you did

well, i hope i was your favorite crime

you didn’t really know what to call your relationship with minji after that. even though you were the one who tried to break up with her, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.

maybe you were wrong all along? what if it wasn’t minji’s fault, but rather your own? she was still trying, right?

in the days that followed your encounter at the restaurant, you found yourself replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. doubt gnawed at you, and you began to question whether your decision to suggest a break was the right one. 

after all, minji had come to meet you, she had taken time out of her busy schedule, and you had essentially rejected her.

seeing her upset and angry had left a pit in your stomach, a nagging feeling that perhaps you hadn't fully considered the consequences of your actions. the guilt weighed heavily on you, a constant reminder that relationships were complex and messy, and your attempt to address the issues between you had only seemed to exacerbate them.

as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself missing minji more than ever. the silence between you was deafening, and the space that had grown between you felt like an insurmountable chasm. you wondered if you had pushed her away for good, if your efforts to address the issues had only served to drive her further away.

you couldn't help but notice how minji continued to appear in the media, performing with her group, smiling for the cameras, all the while masking the turmoil that had once been so evident between you. it was as if she had moved on effortlessly, while you were left grappling with the remnants of a relationship that felt more shattered than ever.

the clock on your bedroom wall glared at you with the numbers 9:55 pm. minji was still awake, she always was at this time. you memorized her practice schedule during the talking stage with her.

it was a bit ironic that you remembered her daily schedule but you couldn’t seem to remember to eat or sleep.

the past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the attempt to repair your relationship with minji had left you emotionally drained. you were trying to rebuild what was broken, and it was proving to be both challenging and rewarding.

but it wasn't easy. the memories of your arguments and the pain you both felt still lingered, and they often invaded your thoughts, especially during these quiet moments when the world seemed to slow down. the disparity between minji's public persona and the reality you both faced weighed heavily on your heart.

as you sat there, staring at the clock, a surge of emotions swept over you. you missed her more than words could express, and you longed for the love you once felt from the girl. 

yet, there was a lingering fear that the cracks in your relationship might be too deep to mend completely. the doubt, the insecurity, and the uncertainty gnawed at you, reminding you that love alone might not be enough to heal the wounds that had formed.

you picked up your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen. maybe you should send her a message, just to let her know that you were thinking of her. 

it's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do

'cause i was going down, but i was doing it with you

your fingers typed and erased over and over again, the indecision evident in your actions. the glow of your phone's screen illuminated the dim room, casting a faint light on your contemplative expression. the cursor blinked in the text box as you struggled to find the right words.

"i miss you,” you typed and then hesitated, your thumb hovering over the send button. it was a simple message, but it held so much weight. would it be welcomed, or would it come across as too needy? you deleted the message and started again.

“how was your day?” you tried, hoping for a more casual approach. but as soon as the words appeared on the screen, they felt inadequate, empty even. minji deserved more than a simple inquiry about her day.

with a frustrated sigh, you locked your phone and placed it on the table. you leaned back in your chair, your thoughts a swirl of emotions. the turmoil within you mirrored the unease you felt about your relationship. it was as if your actions on your phone screen were a microcosm of the larger struggle you were facing.

part of you wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed, to show minji that you were still here, still committed to trying. 

but the other part of you was afraid—afraid of rejection, afraid of making things worse, afraid of being a burden to her busy life.

yeah, everything we broke, and all the trouble that we made

but i say that i hate you with a smile on my face

as the minutes turned into hours, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, a battle raging within you. the screen of your phone remained dark, untouched, a silent testament to your internal struggle. the clock ticked on, and the night grew deeper, but your heart felt heavy with the weight of indecision.

finally, you gave a resigned sigh, realizing that you couldn't keep grappling with this forever. with a determined exhale, you unlocked your phone once more. your fingers tapped out a message, slower this time, each word chosen carefully.

"hi minji, i've been thinking about us. i miss what we had, and i'm willing to work on things if you are. i don't want to push you, but i just wanted you to know that i'm here, whenever you're ready to talk."

you read and reread the message, the words holding your hopes and vulnerabilities. with a trembling hand, you pressed the send button, watching as the message flew off into the digital void. the anxiety settled in once again, the seconds stretching out.

the room was silent, save for the soft hum of the clock on the wall. the minutes passed, and you felt a mix of anticipation and dread. 

oh, look what we became

somewhere between now and the moment you had sent the text, you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. you picked up your phone again, only to be met with a blank screen of no notifications. 

all the things i did

just so i could call you mine

when you scrolled back to the conversation, you noticed your message didn’t say it had been delivered. confused, you decided to double check her schedule by looking online. was she flying somewhere right now?

as you searched for any information about minji's schedule, you felt a growing sense of unease. it wasn't like her not to respond, even if she was busy. and the fact that your message hadn't even been delivered left you feeling a mix of frustration and concern.

you clicked on various fan sites and social media platforms, hoping to find a clue about her whereabouts. but your search yielded no answers—no mentions of her current activities, no updates on her schedule.

the clock on your wall ticked away, and you found yourself trapped in a cycle of uncertainty. the more you searched, the more your anxiety grew. what if something had happened? what if she was in trouble or facing an emergency?

all the things you did

well, i hope i was your favorite crime

finally, after what felt like an eternity of scrolling, you stumbled upon a tweet from a fan account. it mentioned that minji's group finally had a break in their schedules for the first time in months.

your heart sank as you read those words. minji was still here in seoul. 

but if she was still here in the city, why wasn’t your message going through?

your favorite crime

moving to her contact once again, you about calling her. you missed her, you loved her, and you wanted to let her know that you were sorry for not understanding her.

even though none of it was your fault in the first place. 

your favorite crime

your thumb pressed on the call button and you brought the device to your ear. the sound of your heart pounded in your head and your hands shook.

would she be mad? would she be happy to hear from you? or maybe she would feel just as sorry as you were feeling right now? 

surely she can’t miss you less than you miss her, right?

'cause baby, you were mine

the number you have dialed is not in service at this time…

a/n: this was literally so rushed im sorry LMAOOO

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Working title

Warning: A little bit of angst and sadness, female reader, One Piece based storyline mixed with my own weird creativity. This will be my personal Nanowrimo project I want to share with all of you. Hope you can enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing.

Content notes: Small buggy turning into big Buggy later during the story, love, romance, female reader who will experience a strong character development, SFW for now, might add NSFW later.

Word count: 778

You had felt tired and hopeless for a while now. The once captivating sunsets had lost their enchanting glow, and the islands you encountered appeared indistinguishable from one another, as if you were trapped in a recurring loop. Nobody in the crew had realized how you felt, but there was no one to talk to anyway - everyone had their own dreams and goals, their hopes and their desires.

Surrounded by individuals brimming with enthusiasm, their eyes shining with purpose and ambitions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness within yourself. Unlike those driven pirates who embarked on their journeys to fulfill their dreams, you found yourself adrift without any grand aspirations to chase. Gold? Fame? Wealth? Power? Nothing seemed appealing to you.

One day, under the silvery glow of a full moon, a decision took hold within you. The ship belonging to the Snowland pirates, to which you had reluctantly become a part, had worn on your patience for far too long. The crew showed little interest in forging genuine connections, the laborious tasks assigned to you felt utterly purposeless. It had become abundantly clear that this was not where you belonged.

You had stumbled upon this crew while seeking refuge on the wintry shores of the island called Klaki, your own vessel in need of repair. The charismatic captain of the Snowland pirates had enticed you with promises of camaraderie and acceptance, and initially, you had felt a glimmer of hope as you seamlessly integrated into their ranks. But as the weeks turned into months, the allure had faded into disillusionment.

Now, a full year had passed, and the once captivating glamour had completely faded away. All you desired was to escape this stifling environment as swiftly as possible. You untied one of the smaller lifeboats while everyone was asleep after a full night of partying and alcohol - you chose to escape during full moon, knowing the danger of the light giving away your escape. But it was seldom that everyone was so drunk that they wouldn't realize a missing crew member. You had packed your bag and took a deep breath as you finally started rowing into the night and into freedom and liberation.

As consciousness returned, you were greeted by an overwhelming sensation of thirst. Your dry throat pleaded for relief, while a throbbing ache pulsed through your head. The wet fabric of your clothes clung stubbornly to your skin, as if fused together, and even your hair felt matted and sticky. The scorching rays of the sun beat down upon your scalp, intensifying the discomfort.

Blinking repeatedly, you struggled to focus your weary eyes, attempting to find out about your surroundings and piece together the events that had led you to this disorienting state. Your boat is gone. So was your bag and your shoes. You were laying on the shore, with your face and your belly in the sand, the pain from your head reaching down to your arms and legs. The realization washed over you like a crashing wave - you had become the aftermath of a shipwreck.

"What is this?"

"Rather - who is this? I can clearly see she is a girl and not a thing!"

"Maybe she is a pirate. Then she is dangerous and we should not touch her!"

"Hahaha! I am a pirate myself, dear friend, I do not fear anybody, especially not a small hurt girl like her."

"Is she maybe.. dead?"

With all your might you force yourself to look up, ignoring the pain in your neck, trying to figure out who the voices belong to, which seem to talk about you and your desolated condition.

As your gaze lifted, you beheld the peculiar sight of two small, otherworldly creatures. One stood before you—a man with disproportionately short arms and legs. His moss-green hair framed a face adorned with dark eyes and a beard. Strangely, his body seemed to meld seamlessly with a wooden treasure box. He had no torso, but was stuck in a box.

Beside the moss-haired man, another diminutive figure emerged—a clown who appeared similarly downsized, with short arms and feet attached directly to his neck. Adorned with a hat unmistakably bearing the emblem of the notorious Buggy pirates, this peculiar duo stood before you, their appearances both strange and comical.

The moss-haired man offered a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken understanding. Meanwhile, the clown dwarf took a tentative step closer, his eyes reflecting a mix of caution and intrigue.

"Are you dead?" the box man asked.

"I wish I was!" you moan and let your head fall back into the warm sand.

[strangelittlestories]

Three weeks into the latest depressive episode A magazine calls - they want me on the cover

I tell them they’ve made a mistake I tell them the only reason I picked up Was for the sticky ‘ew’ feeling Of answering a phone call In this day and age

I tell them I haven’t showered And all I’ve eaten today Is a pack of six bake-at-home cinnamon buns And I feel a bit sick

He tells me I work for ‘Not Okay’ Magazine And we don’t make mistakes

Well, okay, we do Often But most of the time they’re sexy mistakes. We both know he’s lying, But I agree out of exhaustion.

They send a photographer to my flat We agree on a series of tasteful nudes With unwashed laundry And mouldy mugs In all the right places. They ooze attitude They also ooze literal ‘ooze’ Because of the, y’know, mould.

I list my nearest and dearest So they can ask for quotes. The one they print reads: “I wouldn’t really call us friends I haven’t heard from them In years I assumed they were mad at me.”

We chat in my living room Over a single measuring jug filled With expired instant coffee The interviewer breathes in a waft Of bovril-smelling caffeine slurry  And wipes the awe from his eyes Then says:

“A few years ago No-one knew you You were medium sad The human equivalent of a drive-thru restaurant Bad, sure, but everyone knew what they were getting. You were … a C minus.

But now? You’re a landmark A national trust ruin They may as well tattoo ‘This is not a place of honour’ On the small of your back.

My doctor heard I was interviewing you And referred me for therapy  As a precaution. So let me ask the question on everyone’s lips? What’s your secret?”

“What a great question.” I say, wrestling the coffee From his hands Because I deserve it

“It takes a lot of practice. You’ve just got to make time To remap your synapses I try to fit in one life-changingly bad event a year To really forge new wide-ranging roads Through my internal atlas Away from those depots of cloying serotonin I know I don’t deserve. Y’know, something really verve-destroying.

I’ve careened across the map Wheels burning into redundancy town Double-parking at heartbreak hotel (did you know you could fail a break-up?) Getting a ticket on bereavement boulevard A hit-and-run through jury service-ville (leaving my faith in humanity behind)

And of course Pandemic City was a blessing  for all us sad-sacks But an extra spicy affair if you worked in healthcare

Finally, I crashed the metaphor into a river On the coldest night on record But it was pretty shallow And I think the cold probably helped Shock me out of it. Plus, I made it home with my trousers only partially frozen.

We are creatures of habit, Michael Can I call you Michael?”

(He quickly corrects me - Michael is not his name - “I didn’t ask you what your fucking name was I asked if I could call you Michael” He says yes)

“Like I said - creatures of habit If you *practice* If you really dig your feet in If you cut a wide furrow through the mud Some part of you will start to think Of the hole you burrowed in the dirt As home.

Your highest landmarks Are distant skyline and To visit would feel like trespassing.”

At the end of the interview I ask Michael If he’s sure I’m qualified To be a coverperson

After all There are so many people More ‘not okay’ than me Or who have more reason to be Yet remain seemingly functional.

“That’s the beauty of Not Okay magazine,” he says, with a smile like marshmallow “We don’t judge or rank. We ask for one thing: That today you are not okay.

In its own way, every sadness is interesting Even when it feels boring as the road you grew up on Tomorrow you might even be happy That’s okay too. Tomorrow is an impossibility of sunrises. Today - you are seen.”

[cowboyhorsegirl]

Not My First Rodeo (An 1872 SteveTony Fic Reclist🤠💫)

This reclist is a fill for the @stevetonygames bingo square "Consequence" and the Resolutions Challenge for Team Future :)

a slow ticking wilderness by @starvels (2.4k, M)

Three weeks ago, Tony burned his hands in his forge. Since then, he's been unable to use them, useless and listless. Relying on the kindness of strangers ain't exactly his expertise. Luckily, Sheriff Steve Rogers has good hands and a heart hale enough to keep offering bits of help and hope to Tony, no matter that he ain't all that good at accepting them.

RATING: Five out of five heart-happy cowboys, 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

What if I told you this was literally the first (The First!!!) 1872 fic I ever read, which may have been a mistake on my part because it simply set the bar too high, devastatingly high, stratospherically high! This fic feels like wrapping yourself up in a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer while you sit by a beautiful, roaring fire and drink a delicious cup of spiced hot cocoa. Please fulfill all your wildest h/c dreams and desires in the embrace of this lovely window into established relationship 1872 stevetony.

To Break the Bridle by @deervsheadlights (25k, M)

If anyone had told Tony a year ago that he would be herding cattle up on some god-forsaken mountain, in deep winter and out of his own free will, he would've laughed in their face. Were they to show him the blond and blue-eyed reason for his sudden lapse of judgement, however, he might've just understood.

RATING: Two cowboys who are frequently secretly very fond of each other + a new appreciation for the pavlovian potential of duck fat, 🤠🤠🦆

Everyone gather round and say thank you deervsheadlights!! Thank you deer for writing the 1872 Brokeback Mountain AU that we have all been begging for since the moment 1872 comics hit the shelves! This fic was another early 1872 find for me and I simply cannot recommend it enough: the slow burn, the hurt comfort, the romance-this fic does it all masterfully.

but come ye back by @s-hylor (1.2k, T)

When the night is cold and the sky is open, Tony goes to talk to the past Sheriff of Timely.

RATING: one broken cowpoke's heart, but the hurt is tempered by the knowledge that the love perseveres on, 💔

If you have yet to heal from the hurt of 1872 Issue 2, then this is the fic for you. This fic is the best deconstruction of emotion following the Sheriff's death that I have read yet, savage in both it's sadness and it catharsis, and I cannot recommend this highly enough.

A Handsome Stranger Called Death by @isozyme & @sheshopelesse (3.5k, M)

Steve Rogers was an optimist, and he had no sense for the limits of one man with a six-shooter and a strong will, but he was canny enough to know that he wasn’t getting any good done as pig food.

RATING: 10/10 shakes of a rattler's tail 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

Close your eyes and imagine a story that combines Western gothic and desert mysticism and monsterfucking and domestic bliss and now open your eyes bc that fic exists and you're looking at it! The prose is gorgeous, the mythology is arresting, and the characterization is stunning. Plus! This fic comes complete with its own podfic, ready for your joint reading & listening pleasures.

Somebody's Darling by @laireshi (12.9k, T)

Steve wasn't always a sheriff, and Tony didn't always spend his days halfway down a bottle. They met long before Timely.

RATING: the best 1872 rom-com of all time, if rom-com was short for Romantic-Commentary on the Inherent Despondency of War

This fic!!!!!! Is wonderful and delivers a years-long sweeping arc of a wartime romance before dropping you off at the front door of 1872 canon. It's such a heartfelt exploration of love blooming amidst the chaos and tragedy of war, of the way two people keep getting drawn back to each other again and again, of second chances and third chances and fourth, all culminating in a freedom both precarious and precious to be found in the West.

The Strangers You Call Friends by Mireille (1.4k, T)

Stark frustrates Sheriff Rogers, but that doesn't mean he wants to see the man drink himself to death. Timely needs a blacksmith, after all.

RATING: two out of two prettiest blue eyes this side of the Mississippi, at least according to the cowboy locked in the Sheriff's cell for tonight 👀

An incredible pre-canon character study from the POV of Timely's favorite Sheriff. I feel as though this fic is so true to canon characterization and setting that it could honestly constitute the first page of an 1872 novelization. You really sink into Steve's mindset and his perspective on not just Tony's perennial drunkenness, but on his duties to the town as a whole.

Say My Name by citsiurtlanu (2.6k, G)

Steve reminds Tony that there's more to him than the war his weapons were used in.

RATING: a whole cowtown who has been irrevocably changed for the better by the love of two men, 🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡🤠💞🫡

A beautiful canon-compliant fic that pulls at the thread of romance hidden in the rough, vibrant fabric of 1872. There's so much tenderness in this story, it aches in the best way :')

Paradise Blue in 1872 by @cowboyhorsegirl (oh hey that's me!) (500w, T)

Steve imagines this is what it feels like to commit blasphemy, looking at Tony Stark.

RATING: Sheriff Rogers' extremely Catholic-coded erection 🤨🤨

It's about!! the wretched devotion of love, the purgatory of the West, the discovery of a new God in the listless eyes of the saloon's resident patron! A bite-sized character & relationship study that slots itself very neatly within the first 5 pages of 1872 Issue 1 that I hope you read & enjoy :)

whistling dixie by @starvels (1.4k, M)

“Well,” Steve says, voice rough. He takes in another of those sharp breaths and when he exhales, Tony feels it like the forge, billowing heat out into his chest. “Mayhap you best keep that dry, Stark.” He sounds like molten metal, like the best slather of butter over a butt of bread, sounds fair peckish for something more than trail gruel and he’s looking at Tony like Tony’s the place he’s gonna get it. Yes, Tony thinks. It is. Take it. Take me.

RATING: one cowboy (me) who is so, so hungry for stew now 🤠🍲

A masterclass in the 'Food as a Metaphor for Love' ao3 tag, I recommend to all who are hungry for a bit of domestic Western romance or a hearty desert stew. At least one of these appetites will be satisfied by the end of the story, I guarantee!

Blacksmith's Hands by @everybodyilovedies (3.3k, E)

Based in Marvel's 1872 Western Universe, where Tony is a blacksmith and Steve is the town Sheriff. Blacksmith Tony hears Sheriff Steve's birth date is coming up, and decides to give him the present he deserves.

RATING: the number one best birthday present Sheriff Rogers has ever received 🤠🎁

The sweetest, tenderest and yet slightly rough around the edges 1872 PWP you will ever see. I adore Steve and Tony's banter in this fic, the dialogue at the beginning feels like it could have been ripped right out of the comic book panels. And!! There is simply nothing more delightful than the simple intimacy of going from "Stark" and "Sheriff" to "Tony" and "Steve" <3

Unseen, Unheard by @oluka (1k, M)

Tony and Steve have a furtive encounter. Tony wishes they could have more.

RATING: a Sheriff rougher to ride and wilder to tame than a stallion🐎

I could scream forever!!! about the parallels in this story between Tony's alcoholism and his addiction to Steve! The tug-of-war push and pull of their facsimile of a relationship, the hurt that Steve's internal shame over wanting a man inflicts on both him and Tony, the habitual way that Tony debases himself to play up the drunken act and protect him and Steve from any prying eyes. This fic does a truly masterful job of imagining what intimate encounters between Steve and Tony may have looked like within the real confines of the American West.

Going Blacksmithing by @bladeofthenebula27 (1.5k, T)

Blacksmithing only brings in so much money in a small town like Timely, so Tony has to make a little extra money through less respectable means. The Sheriff doesn't approve.

RATING: the prettiest cowpoke you ever did see 🥰🤠

Genderfuck!Tony with a side of possessive Steve all in the year of 1872, what more could one possibly want? There's absolutely nothing more that I love across the multiverse than SteveTony getting to explore their femininity, and this fic brings that dynamic to 1872 absolutely perfectly! :D

BONUS!!!

1872 Meta/Propaganda by @ghosthan

RATING: one out of one new, lifelong 1872 fan (me! 🤠)

An INCREDIBLE primer on the 1872-niverse, including panel screenshots as well as comparisons to 616 characterizations and backstories! I can personally say that this 1872 propaganda is extremely effective (after all, it convinced me to read!!), and gives you juuuust enough information on 1872 to acquaint you with the setting, the characters, and the dynamics at play without simply spoiling the series. In my opinion, this is a highly underrated resource for anyone interested in trying 1872 out, but unsure what to expect.

[elficially-done-with-life]

Trust

Pairing: Celebrimbor x elf!Reader

Summary: In Valinor, Celebrimbor falls in love with the Reader but because of everything that happend in his life, he has difficulty to be vulnerable in front of you.

Warnings: self doubt, insecurity

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Celebrimbor didn't really know how to behave towards you. So much had happened in his life that it had become difficult for him to open up to other people.

It had only been a few weeks since you had confessed that you were in love with each other. He himself had harboured feelings for you for some time but had never expected you to return them.

His uncle Celegorm had always encouraged him and said he would have had no more doubts if he had seen the way you looked at him when he was working in the forge with his upper body exposed. Curufin, who was less than enthusiastic about Celegorm's comments, had told Celebrimbor that he deserved a happy life more than anyone in their family and should at least give it a try.

And yet he was still unsure. It had actually come about by chance that you had confessed to each other how you felt, but not much more had happened since then.

He had held your hand a few times, brushed your hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, but nothing more had happened because he was afraid of being so vulnerable infront of another person.

Celebrimbor knew that you would never hurt him, but he still had this fear inside him, triggered by the many times he had been hurt in his life.

But he thought it was unfair to you, because sometimes he noticed the way you looked at him, as if you were thinking about kissing him or wrapping your arms around him, and even though he would love nothing more than to hold you close and plant several kisses on your cheeks, he still had this fear.

So he avoided you to clear his head a bit, but he felt really guilty about it. You deserved better.

When he wanted to go home a few days later after working at the forge, you were already waiting for him outside. You smiled at him, but there was something sad about your smile that made him lower his head.

"Tyelpë?" you asked gently as you stepped closer. "I- I noticed you were avoiding me and- and I- I wanted to know if everything was okay between us? Have I done something wrong? Are- are you mad at me?"

"Oh Melda, no!" He reached for your hand a little hesitantly and squeezed it gently. What had he done? "You are wonderful. I- I am the problem."

Celebrimbor bit his lip and avoided your gaze.

You gently began to stroke the hand that was still in yours with your thumb.

"What do you mean?" you asked in a soft voice.

"I - I am scared." He swallowed and finally met your eyes. "Afraid of showing someone my vulnerable side." Then he added softly, "I love you Melda, but I am afraid that too open affection would overwhelm me."

It felt right to him to finally be so honest and open with you.

You lifted his hand and gave him a gentle kiss on the back of it, which sent a pleasant tickling sensation through Celebrimbor's body. Then you gave him a look that was so full of love that Celebrimbor's heart began to beat faster and his throat went dry.

"I love you too, Tyelpë." you whispered softly, "And even if we never go further than holding hands, I will always love you. Please do not push me away." You paused for a moment. "But if you do want physical contact, then we can start slowly. Step by step. We have an eternity, and there is no one I would rather spend it with than you."

Celebrimbor stared at you for a while, deeply moved by your words. Tears welled up in his eyes and he asked softly. "Would it be all right if we started with hugs?" Then he gently reached out his arms to you and you stepped closer to him and carefully wrapped your arms around his waist. So gently that he could step back at any time if the hug became too much for him.

He let the tears that had gathered in his eyes run free as he let his head sink onto your shoulder and lost himself in your warmth and your scent, which felt safer than anything else.

[alexanderlightweight]

I just read prompts are still open soooooo....

A tiny little update on pray to the hunters?

Maybe a flashback to the first time Alec succesfully called the weapons to him?

Thank you my friend. (Also i just read Nightshade got into a fight with a bee, i hope he is okay now and give him many cuddles from his fans😁)

here we go! little alec figuring out his path in life!

it's not quite the weapons but its the first time alec reaches out and it opens the path for him

aw thank you!!! i am giving them to him and he is a sad little pupper with droopy eyes going 'i need more cuddles and treats i feel awful'

he is doing much better! besides stopping to try and guard from every flying insect when he goes outside to potty. he also tried to drag me away from a bee because 'oh no! an attack! run baba run!'

he loves cuddles though so i assure you he's very appreciative. sometimes he just lays inbetween saeth and i with all four paws in the air snoring and he only wakes up to grumble in protest if one of us hasn't petted him recently enough

<3 hope you enjoy

lumine

pray to the hunters

— Alec hides in the embrace of a stone angel, curled into the cracking base and tucked under a veil of weeds as he sits and waits. The nephilim searching for him pass him by not once, but three times and even as they use tracking runes, they’re unable to find him.

Alec gives a silent, grateful prayer, not to Raziel but to the dead shadowhunters of his line who must be protecting him.

Raziel is an absent sire and all know that he is far too busy to waste his time on the broken hearts of his children. Alec wonders if it would be different, if any of his dead kin would speak softly to him or help him tend his wounds.

What cuts the deepest is the harsh disregard of both his parents and the responsibilities they continue to place on his shoulders. Alec knows the burden he bears is an honorable one, but that doesn’t change the fact that sometimes he feels his spine crumpling beneath the weight, rather than growing like it should.

His blood mixes with the gravedirt as another patrol passes by and Alec holds his breath until he’s almost dizzy with it, desperation in every line of his body because it’s too much, too soon.

Alec’s only just born his first rune and his parents think that means he’s now a full fledged shadowhunter. Reprimanding him when he can’t keep up with older hunters twice or nearly three times his own age. It’s gotten to the point where even the hunters who loathe his family are starting to send Alec sympathetic looks.

Alec hates them all the more because nothing has truly changed. The only thing different is that his parents are being more obvious about it, since not a single hunter is going to speak up for a Lightwood.

Not even one young enough to not bear runes.

It makes Alec hate them. All of them.

His parents and the hunters and Alec is proud of who he is but he hates who he’s becomming when hammered and filed till bits and pieces of him are breaking off so his parents can forge him into what they want.

A whisper starts up in the wind and Alec shudders without knowing why. He’s not cold — even as his breath crystallizes in the air — he feels content and relaxes, the pressure fading as his heartbeat slows and his blood pumps sluggishly in his veins.

There is something powerful about it, the balm to Alec’s many open wounds and Alec feels the most gentle embrace he’s ever felt, as cold, bony fingers harshly cup his heart.

“Please.” Alec murmurs tiredly as he falls asleep without really knowing why and when he wakes up, there is a strange rune shining silver on his forehead.

No one else seems to be able to see it, but there is a wariness that Alec is treated with that he prefers far more to the recent sympathy.

For once luck is in his favor and his parents are both called to Idris before they can find and discipline him for ‘failing to complete all his training’ the day before. Alec could probably make it up, go and throw himself into training until the hunters who let the Lightwood name be all they see beat him to the ground.

That’s normally enough for his parents, but Alec doesn’t want that. He wants to know what happened, the strange connection that feels more like home than anything other than the Institute’s core ever has.

It’s with soft, purposeful footsteps that Alec lets himself into the deepest and most obscure of the Institute’s archives. A place where traditions have been left to gather dust and be forgotten and Alec, well… he’s going to find and remember them all.

[erajoie07]

I See You : Aemond Targaryen x Fem reader (Part 2)

Writer's note: Hello! Today is the Festival of the Dead. I really tried to contextualize on this one. I'm sorry, there couldn't be a happy ending. Thank you for reading!

Aemond spreads the blanket over the pasture. He takes off his boots and sets himself down. He looks at me and pats the spot beside him, “Come now, wife,“

“Aemond?” Aemond smiles softly towards me, patting the spot again next to him. “The pie is gonna get cold.”

I break down into heavy tears, painting my face with shock and sadness. Aemond stands from his spot and approaches, delicately wiping off the tears with his handkerchief. “Dearest, what's wrong?”

“Please come back, Aemond,” I blurted out immediately not letting the words stay behind me, “I miss you. It's hard to move on.”

Aemond grabs ahold of me and hugs me in his tight embrace. I reciprocate the love tighter, not wanting to let him go.”

“You're coming with me now, dear.”

Monde rubs his face on her, biting a little on her arm's skin.

I loosen myself from his tight embrace. The Aemond I love now had black eyes. Who is this man in front of me? I can hear someone calling my name.

“I have been waiting to get you here, my sweetling. I get so lonely in here too. So come with me now and we'll forge something better together.” Aemond claws my wrist pulling me towards him. This is a nightmare! This isn't Aemond!

“No! Let go of me! I don't wanna go with you!”

Aemond's face softens, “But I thought you missed me?” twisting my arm

“You are not Aemond! Help!”

Aemond rages over me burning my wrist. I scream and pant, dragging me to his. Fighting for my life, I tried to stand my ground.

Monde scratch and bite YN's arm, littering it with marks as YN convulses and under sleep paralysis.

“YN? YN!” Alicent bangs the door, calling out for the others to break the door. YN hasn't been returning their calls and it worries Alicent. Lost two sons, she can't lose YN too. Criston breaks down the door and Alicent rushes inside to find Monde meowing and biting her as he tries to wake YN.

“YN!” Alicent shakes the poor widow out of her nightmare, calling out her name, chanting prayers.

I can hear someone, many voices calling out my name. As Aemond drags me to where he resides, nearing the pitch black place, light emerges out of nowhere. Then I'm pulled out by a glowing hand swiftly out of Aemond's grasp. I wake up from a horrible dream.

Later that day, we offered a prayer. On November 1st, we'll visit my husband at the cemetery in the Festival of the Dead. Whenever I turn towards Monde, I can see my husband's eyes in him. Afterwards, they told me how Monde scratched and bit to wake me up from that nightmare. Then I can feel Monde rubbing his head on my leg.

[1ovede1uxe]

12. girl talk┊ ┊⋆ beyond the stars

synopsis - you've been sent to join the joestar crew on their mission to defeat dio by... dio? y/n is an undercover stand user who joins the sdc to report back to dio their findings and notes about their stands, up until a few moral dilemmas get in the way of your original mission.

ch. synopsis - squeee! lunch with ur best friend and a special guest

removing pink text from reader’s dialogue because I think it makes things a little too busy and overwhelming on the eyes. I can add it back if y’all want it :) Also Hol Horse and Mariah do not have colored text as they’re not main characters.

Avdol was now out of the hospital and out and about with the crusaders, so it was just you taking care of and keeping watch over Kakyoin.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright with me going out for today?” You asked, feeling guilty for leaving your friend? more than friend? friend with mutual attraction, alone in the hospital.

“I’ll be fine, y/n, I promise. Take a day for yourself. You deserve some down time.” Kakyoin smiles at you and squeezes your hand.

“Thank you, Nori.” You say with a smile, squeezing his hand back. He cracks a smile and a slight blush appears in response to the new nickname. “I’ll see you later! Call me if you need anything!” You said, throwing your bag over your shoulder and excitedly rushing out the door.

I can finally see my friend for the first time in ages!

You looked at the address Mariah sent you, it was a small restaurant and she stood there waiting outside. Once you caught sight of her, your eyes lit up, a bit more perk in your step. She waved her arm in the air to grab your attention.

Having to hold yourself back from running, you speed-walked into a hug with her.

“I missed you so much.” You said into her shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, I missed you too.” Mariah said. “Now come on in, I want you to see who I brought.”

Mariah lead you into the busy restaurant. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and meat on the grill. It was dimmer on the inside, but natural light still beamed through the windows. You found yourselves at a secluded booth in the back, with one man seated there.

"Hol!" you exclaimed excitedly as he got up to greet you with a quick side hug. Sitting down, you eagerly perused the menu, catching up with your old friends. Hol Horse mentioned his plan to return to the mansion, aiming to "stick it to the man," as he put it. Mariah sighed in response. "Good luck with that one," she remarked. She personally decided to share how she’ll use her stand to at least do some damage on your group.

“I still can’t believe Avdol is still alive, that's bullshit,” Hol muttered under his breath.

A wave of nausea washed over you, accompanied by a persistent tickle in your throat. Guilt gnawed at your insides like a relentless shadow. What would Kakyoin think of your betrayal? What would any of them say if they knew you were sympathizing with someone who plotted against them?

“Y’know, Hol, despite him being our enemy technically, he’s actually kind of a nice guy!” you interjected, trying to ease the discomfort you felt, though unease lingered in your voice. The camaraderie with your true comrades clashed painfully with the bonds you had forged with the crusaders. Each word you spoke felt like a betrayal to both parties, even being with Hol and Mariah felt like walking a tightrope.

"Hey, we’re only doing this because we have to. Lord Dio won’t be happy otherwise," Mariah explains sympathetically, noticing the sadness in your expression.

“You’re pretty tough for being able to pretend to be their ally, knowing you actually like them. even more so to know you’re gonna have to betray ‘em eventually.. Those guys are a funny bunch, no wonder you like 'em,” Hol Horse says, lighting a cigarette as he tries to offer some sort of understanding.

You kept chatting while enjoying drinks and food, sharing stories about your adventures with the crusaders. The mood lightened as you recalled funny moments and crazy encounters with your new friends.

Laughter filled the small booth as you reminisced about Mr. Joestar and Polnareff's goofy moments and getting to grow close with the whole group. Not as an informant or a mole, but as friends.

For a little while, the worries seemed to fade, replaced by the joy of sharing stories and enjoying each other's company in a bizarre situation.

It’s so nice to be able to eat food that I haven’t had to create. It’s great to spend time with my friends too. I haven’t seen Hol in ages. We never text either.

About an hour of sharing stories flew by, and soon it was time for Hol Horse to catch his next train. After a brief goodbye, it was just you and Mariah left at the booth. She moved to the other side, looking expectant.

“So spill,” Mariah demands, her tone no-nonsense. With your mouth full of food, you tilt your head in confusion. Rolling her eyes, she clarifies, “What’s going on with the boy?”

“Ohh…” you respond, not-so-innocently. Taking a moment to swallow your food, you launch into the details. You recount the events of the past couple of days—the battles, the close calls, and the quiet moments shared with Kakyoin. You describe the way he looks at you, the little gestures that make your heart skip a beat, and finally, his confession of feelings.

Mariah listens intently, occasionally interjecting with knowing nods or raised eyebrows. As you speak, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders, confiding in someone who understands you and would just listen. You admit the mixture of excitement and uncertainty that Kakyoin's confession stirred within you, and how you're navigating these new feelings amidst the ongoing journey with the Crusaders

“But yeah, that’s what’s with me and Nori-“

“Aww you’re on a first name basis! Little (y/n/n) is growing up.” Mariah coos at you teasingly and wipes away a fake tear.

“I’m only a couple years younger than you y’know.” You complain back.

“Hm yet we look the same, I might aging better than you.” She says with fake arrogance. Suddenly getting serious, she continues, “But anyways, you should enjoy it while you can. You honestly don’t know how much time you have or know what the future holds. Even if you both survive.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m not keeping that on my mind as much. And that’s honestly why we’re not committed to anything I think.”

You and Mariah’s banter went on for a while, reconnecting was honestly a breath of fresh air. Especially being with another girl for the first time in a while.

After a few hours, you found yourself back at the hospital to talk to Noriaki and the others who were on their way out, leaving out details of who you were with and what you did today.

It’ll all be over soon anyways.

previous chapter // next chapter // masterlist

Hey guys!! sorry if this is rushed, it’s been so long without an update! Anyways, finals is finally over, and I can dedicate more time to this series and requests. Much love to you all <3

taglist: @kerto-p, @pancakesyrupthief, @kakyoinslastcherry @marvelmayo, @kitchenscissorbangs

[ridedatbull]

Research into those statues I’ve been finding is slow. Mostly because making sure Major(Tauros) is comfortable and taken care of while he heals is my biggest priority right now, but at the very least I have been able to locate that old picture book of the Old Gods of Johto. It’s just a thing for kids, but it’s real history and part of our heritage that usually gets brushed off because Ho-oh, Lugia and Celebi have been much more present much more recently

The gist of it is that, every species of Pokémon has their own deity that represents certain aspects of the world. Yes I do mean one for every Pokémon, so there are literally hundreds of them. Some with some pretty hyper specific domains, and several of which blend together sometimes. While all of these guys are powerful in their way, Ho-oh and Lugia still reign supreme over all of them as Lord and Lady (though the genderedness of those titles is a matter of hot debate these days) and Celebi is pretty much a free agent that does what they like

Of those hundreds of sub deities, twelve (or thirteen depending on who you ask) are the most important of all, and were given special honors by mankind. Shrines, holidays, their own hymns, the whole package. Over time, every single one of these gods just sort of faded away into obscurity. Some due to time, some due to shifting values, but most gods and their shrines were lost and destroyed due to constant war with our neighbors in Kanto. Nowadays, they’re only remembered as children’s fairy tales.

But the staues I’ve been seeing are more than that. And I’ve found more information on those three.

The Arcanine was the first I saw, and was actually being dug up by an archaeology team near the Ruins of Alph. This picture is from my book and I’ll put the passage about it here too:

“Of the old gods of Johto, Arcanine was loved and respected to level that almost rivaled Ho-oh and Lugia. The Arcanine god was very fond of humanity, adoring their works of art, their creative foods, their beautiful music and resilient hearts. Every chance they got, the Arcanine deity, and their child Growlithe would give aid to the growing people of Johto. The love of these gods was so great, that all mortal Growlithe and Arcanine share that same love for humans naturally, even to this day. It is still unknown why these powerful and majestic gods have not been seen in so long, but surely parting from the humans they so loved was deeply painful for Arcanine.”

It’s a bit of a sad story, but seeing the love I get every day from both of my own Growlithe does make me believe that something in the heavens loves us too. Why else would we get to be with these amazing creatures we call Pokémon?

The second statue was in the Ilex Forest all alone. Somehow though, it was perfectly clean, and I can only guess as to why. The god it belongs to is much more unassuming at first.

“Rattata may seem like an odd choice for a high pantheon of gods, but the ancient Johtoans held the humble creature on a surprisingly high pedestal. Small and humble they are, but they are mighty in their way. Just as Johto is in times of hardship and war. Unlike their neighbors, Johto has few natural deposits of iron, at least ones that are not habitats for territorial, burrowing Steel types. Therefore, many weapons of ancient Johto were forged with Rattata teeth to bolster the strength of what little iron they had. This served two purposes: genuinely strengthening forged blades as a primitive form of steel, and to channel the spirits of the persistent and underestimated power of the humble and the common. For this reason, the Rattata god is often portrayed wielding a sword many times its size.”

Maybe because they were more popular during times of war, Rattata’s shrines were targeted much more fiercely. It does explain why traditional smiths here sometimes keep Rattata teeth somewhere on display.

Now the third statue… if you know me even a little bit, you’ll understand why this one is important.

“When one imagines strength, it is difficult not to picture a Tauros. They are famed for it with good reason. Likewise, the Tauros god is one that is turned to when great strength is needed for some task or feat. Unrestrained, determined, and a champion among the Gods of Johto, Tauros represents the celebration of strength and survival. In the dead of winter, they send their blessings to those struggling to make it through the season, promising that if they are steadfast, they will live to see the next spring. Strangely, every depiction of this deity is different from both Kanto and Paldean varieties of Tauros, with longer horns and tails, brighter forehead studs and thicker manes. Some theorize that these depictions are all that drama in of a now extinct breed of Tauros.”

Well we were definitely struggling in the blinding snow trying to get home for the holidays, and Major responded to something about the statue of this god in a hidden cave that inspired him to lead us there to safety. That can’t just be a coincidence. I’m going to try to learn more when I can.

[mysticaldeanvoidhorse]

Forged in Love

Hephaestus x Aphrodite!reader

Page break credits @firefly-graphics

Master list

Part 9

taglist: @streets-in-paradise @floraroselaughter @stitchattacks

taglist open :)

     When you returned, you filled Athena in, per her insistence.  You didn’t tell her everything, saving some just for yourself.  She was very encouraging, saying that this seemed a wise match.  You had tentatively thought so as well but hearing it confirmed by the goddess of wisdom helped to seal matters in your mind.  The only thing stopping you was that you still didn’t know him very well, he was very guarded, though you knew enough to know he was more open with you than anyone.  And that made you feel really good.  Funny how you were the goddess of feelings (more or less), yet this guarded man who didn’t let anyone in made you feel better than all those who constantly tried.  The irony was not lost.  It was funny to you how you had thought he was a recluse who was not worth anyone's time, whenever you thought about him which wasn't much, until you met him just once.  However, was this a good idea?  Rushing into a marriage with someone who you hardly knew, even if he seemed like the best option?  Was another god you knew better a good idea? You were running out of time.

“The truth is, you don’t have much time to decide.  Hera likes the idea and would bless this marriage.  I am unsure if she would bless anyone else for you.  And though her marriage isn’t something to aspire to, her blessing is still very much needed.”  Athena had told you, after you confessed your doubts.

“I understand that, but is he too good to be true?”

“Everyone is on their best behavior in the beginning to be sure, but you know the other gods and they are not options.”

“But what if he turns out to be the worst of them all?”  You were starting to panic.

“It is true you do not know him well, but what does your heart say?  You of all of us would know best if love can be found from the both of you.”  You were silent for a moment, unsure what the truth was.  You thought you knew the answer but were scared in case you were wrong.  The last thing you wanted was to be trapped and even if he was a wonderful choice, you were still being forced regardless.

“Listen to me, my friend.”  She started again.  “You can talk to him and make it clear what you expect once you are married.  If not love, something where you do not hate each other. Find an agreement you can both live with so being together is not a nightmare.  I don’t want to see you wither away like Hera.”  She gave you a sad smile, and hugged you then left.  You had a lot to think about.

     A few weeks had passed and you realized that no matter what, this was going to happen.  So you needed to talk to Hephaestus and make sure you were on the same page like Athena had suggested.  He had agreed to meet at his forgery once again, not liking to leave and though you felt at a disadvantage you knew the location wouldn’t matter; the conversation was going to be difficult regardless.

“Hello Hephaestus”  You started, a little awkwardly.  He had brought you to another balcony overlooking yet another lovely piece of land that stretched for miles.  You mused to yourself how lovely it would be to spend many days out here.

“What can I do for you?”  Not one to beat around the bush, not that you had expected it of him.

“Honestly, it is a little awkward, but I think we need to talk about this forced marriage.”  His expression darkened just a bit, or maybe you imagined it.

“What about it?”  He asked, in a deeper, not as friendly tone.

“I guess I wanted to make sure that this is what you want, and if it is, what our expectations of it are.”

“Expectations?”

“Yes.”  

“Such as?”  He lifted an eyebrow.  His was an intense gaze, and the only one you ever felt the need to shy away from.  Any other god you could flirt your way around it, but not him.  You couldn’t be fake with him, even if you tried. And you didn’t want to

“I am not naive to think that though we are… getting along right now, that we still don’t know each other very well.  And I don’t want to wake up one day knowing that not only do me and my husband not get along, but that we could hate each other.”  Again no expression.  What you would give to know his mind.

“Like my mother.”  Interesting that this was the first time you had heard him refer to Hera as mother.

“Yes.”  You hated to admit it, but you feared turning into her one day.  Locked away, barely surviving, hated by her husband, respected by none.  The thought alone made you shudder.

“What is it that you want of me?”

“I want…that is I-”  You didn’t know what to say.  

“Do you want a companion?  A friend?”  He took a step closer.

“Well yes, but-”  Another step.

“You want someone who you can get along with and live amicably with?”  Another step.  He was so close you could reach up and kiss him if you wanted.  The thought shocked you.  Where had that thought come from?  And why was it the only one in your mind?

“Or do you want passion, love, fire?”  His eyes bore into your own.  You would be lying if you said you didn’t like the intensity.

“I am the goddess of love, of course I want that.”  You whispered.

“And you are worried you won’t find that…with me?”  You couldn’t read his emotions but thought that maybe there was some sadness in his eyes.

“I’m scared, Hephaestus.”  He nodded, smiling sadly, and began to back away.  The moment you couldn’t feel his heat you reached for and grabbed both his arms to which he instantly tensed up.  But you noticed he didn’t back away.  “I am scared that I won’t yes, but having met you, I am scared that I might actually get all that I want.”  He slowly brought his arms to wrap around yours.  “I am scared that you are too good to be true and once this.. Connection, this spark dies down, we will be left with nothing.  So my hope is that at the very least we can live together amicably, as you say.  That I won’t hate my very existence knowing that you grow tired of me.  That I am not at all what you want.  That you will resent me for forcing you into this marriage.”  You hadn’t admitted half of this to yourself and yet it was all the truth.  He had a way of making you be honest with yourself, a good trait since love can blind.

“This is what bothers you?”  He searches for more but does not find it.

“Yes.”  You barely whisper.

“Then let me tell you my fear.”  No sound could be heard, you held your breath knowing that whatever he was about to say would change everything.

“I fear that you are going into this blindly.  That you see an option that is the best of the worst, and will quickly change your mind and feelings.  That you will see me for what I am.”  It had hurt you to know he thought you so trivial but you knew that it was also in your nature; you were emotional and emotions change and are fleeting.

“I know that I am trivial,  but I have changed a lot.  I cannot promise I won’t become more sound, that is who I am; I am Emotion.  But I can tell you that love will not change.  Will I get upset, go crazy?  Most definitely.  But love..that does not change.”  You knew whether you loved him or not, but knew it was not the time to say yes or no to it.   “And I do see you for who you are.”  You could tell he wanted to pull away, so you moved closer, so that the rest of your bodies were practically touching.

“I see a man who has so much more to offer than others see.  More than he himself sees.  A man who would help out a complete stranger and have next to no expectations of her.  Someone who is always doing things for others and thinks he deserves nothing in return.  I see a man with so much to offer but is so humble.  I see a man that I could easily love.”  His coal eyes had a flicker of fire and you thought it was the most beautiful thing.

“Is that truly what you see?”  He asked in such a vulnerable way, your heart ached.

“I see so much more.”  Your hand reached to cup his face.  He visibly relaxed, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Then I think your fears are unfounded.”  You smiled.

“I think yours are too.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

prompt 1: I'd love to see a niecest fic (where it is truly mutually requited, no hypnosis mindbreaks required; I'm a terribly softhearted romantic & just want to see them happy~) that incorporates your characterizations of the saber spirits somehow? Like, Baxia and Aituan, idk, end up like... bonded somehow by their masters getting together and that... maybe helps balance the qi deviations or IDK I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY *cough* ok. yes. something. prompt 2: ohhhh I know. Jiang Cheng gets some sort of temporary story-convenient amnesia and assumes that (probably still a small child)!Jin Ling is his son, Jin Ling maybe... doesn't correct him for a bit? ("Wait whose kid is this. Did I give birth to a kid somehow. I mean I guess that might as well have happened, sure.") prompt 3: turns out Wen Qing was also being kept secretly alive but imprisoned by the Jin sect all this time, and Jin Ling discovers her in the aftermath of canon. Chengqing y/y? ANYWAY please feel free to select any of these that may strike your fancy, do not feel obligated to pick more than one or any of them, actually. (also I'd appreciate not having my name published as the prompter of any of these, if you don't mind. I don't think you do that, as a general rule, but just in case you might have.) P.S. I adore your work; every day that you post something is a day considerably brightened for me. and also the other days, because I do a lot of rereading. <3 <3 <3

prompt 1: I'd love to see a niecest fic (where it is truly mutually requited, no hypnosis mindbreaks required; I'm a terribly softhearted romantic & just want to see them happy~) that incorporates your characterizations of the saber spirits somehow? Like, Baxia and Aituan, idk, end up like… bonded somehow by their masters getting together and that… maybe helps balance the qi deviations or IDK I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY cough

ao3

So. We're doing something about this, right?

Baxia stirred. Slowly, like a great big old rumbling beast that was actually quite fast when it wanted to be, which knew that there was nothing in the world that could hurt it and anything foolish enough to do so was destined to a terrible fate of being played with and then demolished. Cruelly. Viciously.

Without remorse.

Yes, she said with admirable patience. We will do something about...'this'.

Oh good, Aituan said, amazed, surprised, and relieved that he'd survived this far into the conversation. Baxia was scary, all right? There were masterless sabers less scary than her. Daughter of the dragon, one of the best-forged blades in the sect, and she'd been used to her full potential, too - basically the opposite of Aituan in every way shape or form, really. It's just, you know, my human's been leaking again and I hate it when that happens.

Nie Huaisang might have some faults as a human, Aituan would allow (mostly because Nie Huaisang would similarly allow, and even seemed a bit proud of), but he was an excellent master. Sure, he might not cultivate Aituan all that much - it was kind of amazing Aituan had a personality at all rather than being a lifeless hunk of metal - but that was fine! Aituan, infected by his master’s shaping, didn't especially want to be constantly cultivating anyway. They didn't need that, the two of them. They were chill.

I thought he'd stopped leaking in the bed once he'd reached the appropriately age..?

Not that type of leaking! Leaking from the face, I mean. Salt water.

Ah, Baxia said. Yes, my human does that, too. Quite a bit. I'd assumed it was a regular part of their function.

Aituan thought about what he knew about the senior Nie brother, who was a highly emotional sort of person - inclined towards wet eyes for a myriad of reasons, such as joy, sadness, rage, a bit of passing beauty, and even something Nie Huaisang very fondly called 'allergies'. He could see how Baxia might have reached that conclusion.

Well, my human doesn't do it very much at all, he said. Not for real, anyway. Only when he's unhappy.

Baxia didn't say anything.

This will make him less unhappy, Aituan added, because he might be a mute piece of metal, but silence was a little intimidating when the silence was Baxia's. That shit had weight, and heft, and maybe stabbing power. He thinks revealing the extent of his desires will lead your master to reject him.

Absurd.

I know! Your master is doting and meticulous with his affections. He would never turn his back on a beloved one.

Nie Mingjue had the stubbornness of a saber in that way, and Aituan meant that as a wholehearted compliment. 

True, Baxia said, sounding satisfied - like any saber, she approved of people speaking highly about her master. Not to mention that the underlying 'issue' seems rather...pointless.

I know! Aituan exclaimed. I mean, I have no idea why humans are so hung up on all that grinding and grunting stuff -

I believe it's associated with human reproduction. Maybe.

Only when you have compatible male-female pairs, but you don't see humans stopping with that, do you? Aituan sighed. His master was something of an expert on this subject. Males, females, multiples, solo...you know, I think they do it for fun. 

Baxia rumbled thoughtfully. Like training?

...I think they think it’s more fun than training, Aituan said, and tried to ignore Baxia's silent skepticism. Most humans, anyway; not necessarily yours. Humans are weird, okay?

The silence turned agreeable. That was something no saber would disagree with.

Anyway, put that aside. Let’s just take it as given that humans like grinding themselves against each other instead of against a proper whetstone, and that my master happens to very much want to grind against yours in particular. And yet he's tormenting himself and making himself unhappy and refusing to do anything about it because - you won't believe this - because they were forged by the same maker.

That’s the reason? Surely you jest.

I'm not, Aituan insisted. I asked my human about it specifically. That's the reason.

Baxia was displeased. That's ridiculous, she said. That's it? That's the cause of all this fuss?

Aituan was just happy someone finally understood his perspective about this whole fiasco. Nie Huaisang had a penchant for the dramatic, but he seemed quite earnestly distressed by this little non-dilemma, even after Aituan had assured him - having checked with Baxia - that his brother adored him unreasonably and would do anything he wished. He hadn't exactly appreciated Aituan's disbelief when he'd explained the issue, either - in the end, he'd just said that it was probably something sabers couldn't quite grasp. 

I thought it was something serious, Baxia complained. The way my master has been carrying on, you'd think he was doing something evil in even wanting to do it. But there's no evil here! We would know!

Naturally. They were Nie sect sabers, forged and cultivated to fight evil from the very start; no one knew evil better than they. 

And it's not as if my master's predecessor was any better. Look at the unusual ingredients he chose to use in forging his sons! Each one stranger than the next!

This was true. Nie Huaisang had once grown a tail in his sleep - Aituan had suppressed it on his behalf, naturally, and he was fairly certain that his master still regarded the entire event as a bad dream brought on by snacking excessively on that imported cheese from the south, but it had definitely happened. 

The old Sect Leader Nie had a lot to answer for, really. 

It would seem to solve a lot of problems for them to pair off together, Aituan agreed. They're a known quantity for each other, and it keeps either of them from bothering anyone else with their nonsense. They’d be able to pick forging ingredients for the next generation on the basis of logic rather than emotion. And they both want it! There's literally no problem here!

None at all that I can see, Baxia proclaimedwith a very reassuring tone of finality. We will fix this.

Yes!

And we will fix your cultivation as well.

Ye- wait, what?

My master’s cultivation has begun to exceed my own, Baxia explained. Humans don't have a consolidation period - they just keep growing even after they reach a breakthrough point. If he continues to grow at the current rate, he will exceed my reach within ten years.

That…wasn't good. It was in fact very bad.

The Nie sect practiced a complementary cultivation style, human and saber cultivating side by side along the path of the Great Dao. If the two ever fell seriously out of sync, they would increasingly risk qi deviation. Such a tragic end had been the fate of the Nie sect seniors whose sabers now rested in the saber tombs, and would likely consume their own masters eventually, absent some plan...

...which it sounded like Baxia had.

You are a weak cultivator, she said. Your master is, too. If we redirect my master's cultivation for the purpose of strengthening you and your master instead of increasing his own strength, it would add at least two dozen years to the timeline - and that will be enough for me to finish consolidating my own power and reach my own breakthrough, letting me match him once more. My master and I will then be able to cultivate side by side through the next period. 

Huh. That meant work for him, which Aituan didn't especially want, but much less work than if he were doing all the cultivating himself. And it'd be good for his master, not needing to worry about losing his brother at a young age...

All right, he said. Say, how long is the next period? Until you run into another consolidation period and we need to start worrying again?

Baxia considered the question. Not terribly long, she said. Perhaps 200 years? Perhaps 250?

That seemed reasonable enough, right? How long did humans live, anyway? 

Well, whatever. It was more than ten - his master ought to be thanking him (and Baxia!) for putting in so much effort on his behalf. 

That's fine, Aituan said. All right, we're in agreement. So...now what? 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

All we have; Thor x sister reader

*Author’s note*

So this fic took me some time but after a while I finally came up with how to come about this. To the anon who sent this all the way back close to the beginning of the year hope this story finds you and thank you for being so patient.

Warnings: ANGST!!! Events of infinity war, main character (death)? Reader was blipped, depression, denial. Sad Thor basically.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

@austynparksandpizza​

________________________________________________________

*Thor’s POV*

Failure.  A feeling I never once felt before up until now. Even when I was banished by my father and lost my hammer, it was nothing compared to now.  My father, my home, nearly half of my people, my brother, and now—now my sister.

And only two of those things weren’t taken by the same person.  When Thanos came for us after Asgard was destroyed by Sutar in order to defeat Hela, we could only manage to send half of the people down to Earth before we were attacked, but even with those people safe the rest could not. Heimdell was one of my dear friends to die first after he used the last bit of strength to send Banner to warn the Avengers of Thanos.

My sister and I did our best but with him already in possession of the Power Stone, he had us badly outmatched and out strengthened.  Then he had Loki killed right before our eyes, the two of us helpless and could only watch as he snapped his neck.  For a brief moment I thought we were dead when our ship was destroyed but then we came across the Morons.  Led by a rabbit and his tree companion.

After getting Storm breaker forged for myself and my sister even obtaining a newly gifted gauntlets to harness her power of Starlight.  Next to me, I would say she’s the strongest Avenger (even though she never wanted to be one).  Her being the Goddess of the Stars, she is basically a star in human form with enhanced strength, speed, can fire star beams from her eyes and star bolts from her hands. That’s why some people on Earth called her ‘Star bolt’ or something along those lines.

Together we came to Earth with the rabbit and tree and we were on the verge of victory until Thanos arrived.  I had him, as did my little sister.  She fired with all her might as soon as he had completed the gauntlet and retrieved the last of the Infinity stones.  Then I used Storm-breaker to impale Thanos before he could do the snap.  I had shoved the blade of my newly forged axe into his chest, as deep as it could go and had the Mad Titan on his knees.

His final words were that I should’ve gone for the head, then he lifted the gauntlet and snapped his fingers as a bright light flashed before my eyes.  I had demanded him that he tell me what he had done when I saw the gauntlet burnt to a crisp, but the coward fled through a portal.  Next thing I knew, people were disappearing into dust.

“Brother?” I heard my sister say and when I turned to her I saw her clutching her stomach.  “I—I don’t feel so good.” I soon took notice of the same dusty flakes coming off of her.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no hey. Hey (Y/n) come here, come here little sister.” I held her together burying my face into her neck.  “You’re right here. You’re right here with me, yes? Just like the old days, the two of us together. We’re okay, we’ll be okay.” She smiled solemnly as tears glistened in her eyes.

“Goodbye brother.” She whispered.

“No, no there’s no goodbyes not for us. Please my little starlight, stay with me. I-I can’t lose you too!” but soon she faded away and all that was left was dust in my hands.

All of that happened just 4 weeks ago.  The week before, we found Thanos and hoped we’d use the stones to bring everyone back only to find out that he used them to destroy them.

Not wanting to hear anymore, I did what I should’ve done at that very day I lost everything. I went for the head.

After that, I couldn’t take it.  Numbness and emptiness overtook me.  What was life on Earth without my only family left? She was my little sister, she was my best friend, my guiding star.  From the day she was born, I made an oath to always watch out for her.

I had promised mother and father that I’d never let anything happen to her.  Before Loki came along, it was just the two of us.  We got into the worst sort of trouble, but she was always there to get us out of it using her charm and wit.  Thinking back now, that’s probably how Loki learned to be the silver tongue he came to be.

But now they were both gone.  Leaving me as the last of Odin’s children.

*Present day 4 weeks after Blip*

The humans were calling it The Blip.  After half of the universe had been snapped away, that’s what they called this tragic event.  Their governments and politicians trying to get the records of everyone around the world who had been blipped, trying to rebuild, but there was nothing I could do to help them.

“Hey Thor.” Banner’s voice spoke up.  I didn’t respond.  “I managed to locate Valkyrie and Korg. They said they’ve settled all the remaining Asgardians in a small town in Norway called Tønsberg.” I remained sitting in my chair looking out the window.  “Look buddy, I know that—things hadn’t been easy. But don’t you think your people need you? Or at least let them know you’re okay?”

“And what do I tell them? Hmm? Can you-can you answer me that Banner? When I go there the first thing they’ll ask me is where is…..” I stopped and brushed away the tears from my eyes.  No scratch that, not tears I just have something in my eye.

“I get it. I miss her too man. Your sister was—someone really special. Remember she helped me after I found out that I had been the Hulk for two years.”

“I helped too you know.”

“Yeah but not as much as she did.” I shook my head softly chuckling.

“Yeah she—she always did like helping those who needed it. The stars seemed to have dimmed without her here.” There was silence before I finally stood up and turned to Banner. “Thank you for finding them for me Bruce.”

“You gonna be okay pal?” he asked me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. I’ll be sure to keep in touch about how things are going.” I gave him a firm pat on the back before I took Storm breaker into my hands and flew off towards Norway.

When I got there, New Asgard was a small little town on the edge of some fishing docks where I saw the remaining few of my people all trying to rebuild our new home.  When they saw me, they bowed their heads but I didn’t acknowledge them.

“Hey Thor you’re alive!” up ahead I saw Korg, Meek and Valkyrie gathering up some kegs of beer. I walked up to them and hugged Korg (even though there was no emotion to said hug).

“Where’s (Y/n)?” asked Valkyrie.  I breathed heavily and asked her redirecting the question.

“How many of our people are left after the Statesman was attacked?” she looked at me skeptically but answered.

“We were just about to land our rescue ship when suddenly half of those that were saved turned to dust.” So even when half of the people managed to escape, they too were cut in half and Blipped away.  My sister’s escape plan for our people was in vain.

“Right well, you two continue doing what you were doing. I’m just going to uhh—” I took one of the kegs from Korg and walked off without another word.

I managed to find me a small cabin that hadn’t been claimed by anyone and decided that this would be my cabin from now on.  It was the furthest cabin than the rest of the village so thankfully no one should suddenly burst in on me.

I set the keg down before plopping myself down on the floor next to it.  I looked down at my wrist to see the old bracelet (Y/n) had made for me back when we were kids.  I took it off my right wrist and examined it.

It wasn’t much just made from the finest Asgardian thread and the jewels were of pure diamonds, rubies and a couple of emeralds.  In fact it was a sibling bracelet that she had made for all three of us. The ruby represented me, the emeralds were of Loki and she was the diamond.

I clenched it in my hand and raised it up ready to throw it as far as I could, hoping that it would be lost forever but something held me back.  My arm trembled before I brought the bracelet to my chest and held it over my heart as I felt tears falling down my face.

“I’m sorry (Y/n).” I wept.  “I’m so sorry little sister.” I continued to weep as the memories of my sister flashed through my mind like a film on constant repeat.

*1 month after The Blip*

I hadn’t really stepped out of my cabin since I had first claimed it.  I kept the windows shut and bolted, hardly any light really came into this cabin really.  Why should I deserve the light after my failure to kill Thanos? But I knew I had to step out because I had run out of beer from the keg I had taken a month ago.

So after restocking some more kegs, beer bottles, whiskey, tequila, whatever alcohol I could get my hands on at the time, I should be good for a couple of months or so, hopefully.  As I drank my fifth beer bottle a knock was heard at the door.

“Thor?” Valkyrie. “Thor come on open up it’s just me.”

“It’s unlocked as always.” I told her.  I heard the door open and she let out a cough.

“Geez what rolled up and died in here?”

“What are you doing here Valkyrie?” I asked her.

“Well our brewery ran out of whiskey and I figured only one person could be responsible for that so I came to collect some from you. Running this place is a lot harder than you think.” She said as she helped herself to some of my whiskey.

“Try dealing with keeping the peace of all nine realms on top of that.” I scoffed remembering after my first battle with the Avengers when I tried to keep the peace between the nine realms before father thought I was once again ready to take the throne.

“I can only imagine that. Definitely would take more than whiskey to take that hangover off.”

“Why have you really come Valkyrie?” she and I looked at each other and she said.

“To check on my friend who may I remind you hasn’t been outside in over a month except this past Tuesday to take most of our brewery.”

“I’ve told you as I have told everyone else, I’m fine.”

“Is that why you haven’t bathed in that time? No offense but you’re starting to smell worse than Sakaar.”

“Bathing is a lifestyle choice. If I choose the bathe or shower I will do so whenever I please.” She let out a heavy sigh.

“Thor, I know why you’re doing this.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. Did you honestly forget why I went to Sakaar in the first place?” I remained silent. “Drinking my own problems away because I lost all my sisters including the love of my life. Who sacrificed herself to save me. You’re not the only one who lost someone you love. Take it from me, drowning your sorrows can only do so much, eventually the call to action will find you and you’ll have no choice but to get off your ass and fight.”

“Thanos is already dead, but even killing him didn’t bring anyone back. Much less bring her back. What call to action will there be?” I said brokenly.

“How about instead of focusing on the broken past? You help your people? They need a king.”

“No one needs me.” I sat down in my chair and turned away from her as I grabbed an old bag of Doritos and ate whatever was left in the bag.  I heard Valkyrie let out a heavy sigh before she left my cabin slamming the door.

Leaving me once again alone in darkness and solitude.

*6 months after The Blip*

‘It has been six months since the Blip when an alien wiped out half of Earth’s population. World governments continue to find an equal consensus but with the world still grieving can we truly move on? Our team has tried to reach out to any remaining members of the Avengers who have all but seemed to disappear from the public eye. Tony Stark aka Ironman has…..’

“Korg you mind shutting that blasted thing off? I thought we were going to begin Fortnite?” I told him.

“Sorry Thor. Just so you know I didn’t turn the channel to the news, it was just on there. Earth seems to have nothing but bad news to tell.”

“Yeah that’s all they really have to say these days.”

“Earth news is depressing.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I muttered.  As we got the gaming system started up, Korg told me.

“Speaking of, there were reporters that came over the other day wanting to talk to you about the battle you had with Thanos back in that Wakanda place.”

“Hopefully either you or Valkyrie told them to screw off and to never come back here again.”

“Valkyrie took care of them. And she even called them some very nasty things.”

“And another good reason to put her in charge.” I muttered.  As the menu opened up and we picked our avatars we proceeded with the game.

“Just asking out of pure curiosity Thor, will there be a time you come out that doesn’t imply you stealing half of the brewery’s supplies? We really do miss you out there.”

“Who wants to go out when there’s a whole lot to do in here? You can’t get all these video game time out there? And here you don’t have to pay for any alcohol. Sure the cable’s a bit of a pain in the ass but what more could you want right here?”

“It does sound like a load of fun and a huge convenience but at the same time you might probably be doing all of this due to the loss of your sister.” I rolled my eyes and blew a nonchalant raspberry.

“These are just life choices, I can go out whenever I want to for whatever reason I want. My sister—” I trailed off thinking about her.

Just what would she say in this moment? How would she even react to seeing me like this? Most likely she’d be disappointed, she never did like it when either Loki or I got into one of our ‘moods’ (whatever she means by that).  Felt like she had been stuck in the middle and having to be the problem solver out of the three of us.

But now she’s just—she’s gone.  In all honesty, I’m glad she’s not here to see me like this.  Like I said, she’d most likely be disappointed that I’ve shut everyone out and refuse to do anything to help rebuild our new home.

“My sister isn’t even here. So why even try to speak as if she’s still here?” Korg remained silent. I took a deep breath in before exhaling and spoke in a more optimistic manner (or at least tried to anyway. I just wanted this conversation to be done.)  “Now then, let’s hurry and beat this round before that little douchebag Noobmaster69 logs on.”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe he called me a dickhead.” Korg said as we continued to play our game long into the night and even until the next morning.

*1 year and 4 months after The Blip*

Today seemed so empty. Much more so than any other day because today should’ve been a day of remembrance, of birth, a milestone for Asgardian Gods. Today would’ve been (Y/n)’s birthday, but just any ordinary birthday.  Today she would’ve been 1500 years old.  The big 1500.

She could’ve participated on her first ever hunting party and claim a prized boar to be eaten at a feast worthy of Valhalla, music and dancers, and at the end of the night the very stars themselves would dance for her (all thanks to her powers).  But there will be no hunt, nor song in her name, for she was one of the many who Blipped away.

I did, however, ask Korg whenever he came up for our annual video game binge to bring up a cake that I knew (Y/n) would love.  She always had a weakness for sweet treats, especially when we first came to Earth after Loki tried to take the Tesseract.  Boy was that a wild time when she went on that sugar craze and Steve had to coax her down from it but she refused to surrender her candy to him.

“Hey Thor, Meek and I are here and we brought the cake like you asked of us.” Korg’s voice called out.

“Bring it in here my friends.” They came in and there it was.  A three layered chocolate cake with dipped chocolate strawberries.

“So Thor is this another one of your monthly big dessert binges?” asked Korg.

“Not for myself.” I answered as I went over and dug through the drawers until I found some old candles and put them on top of the cake.  “You know, today would’ve been (Y/n)’s 1500th birthday. A big milestone in Asgardian culture.”

“Really? Is 1000 not worthy?”

“It is but it’s the 1500th that’s even bigger. Compared to Earth I’d say it lines with one’s 16th birthday. Where Earth teens can drive legally and all that fun stuff, in Asgard, when a god turns 1500 they are honored to lead a hunting party to find and skewer a prized boar. To be eaten at a feast worthy of Valhalla itself. Oh I remember my 1500th birthday hunt so well, I made (Y/n) my lead scouter and she dreamed of the day of her birthday hunting party.”

“Oh I see. And your sister, she liked chocolate?”

“Probably one of the few things she loved about Earth. Oh Korg you should’ve seen it. The first time she tried chocolate, I thought her head was going to explode.”

“Thankfully it didn’t otherwise how can one function without a head?” Korg said.  I lit the candles up and stared at them for a bit before blowing them out in honor of my sister.

“Happy 1500th little sister. If only I could’ve done more.” I then blew them out in her stand before taking them off the cake.

“She would’ve been happy either way Thor. Hunting party or no hunting party, she would’ve loved it either way.”

“You speak as thought my sister is still here.”

“She is. In a way. Though she is not here physically, she is all around us. Being the goddess of the stars, it’s like she’s still watching over us every night. At least that’s what the Earthlings say about her in their stories, right?” I shook my head chuckling icily.

“I appreciate the words of comfort Korg, but we all know the real truth. She’s gone, and there’s no way of bringing her back. And it’s all my fault.”

“Thor—”

“Sorry Korg, guess I don’t feel much like Fortnite tonight, sorry.” I started to walk off but I grabbed (Y/n)’s cake and left my cabin.

It was now nightfall and I had been standing looking over the cliff’s and the sea ahead.  I was at the last piece of my sister’s cake and I looked up at the stars that didn’t seem to shine as brightly as they used to. My heart felt heavy and tears built into my eyes and I wept.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you little sister. For anyone. It’s all because of me. It’s my fault. It’s my fault!” I stayed there for the rest of the night weeping under the very stars my sister once made shine.

Time just went by in a blur.  In fact time was irrelevant to me.  Only when I needed supplies like more alcohol did I ever show my face to my people. Valkyrie was proving to be a better King than I, I mean how can a King rule his people when he couldn’t even protect them? Let alone his own sister?

I was just—drifting at this point.  The only times I felt even the slightest bit of joy was video game nights with Korg and Meek.  Life may continue on, but I will always be burdened with the weight of my greatest failure and nothing was ever going to get me out of it.

[dontknowmanijustworkhere]

A Mother's Woe

Summary: Wednesday has been sulking since she found out she has to go to Nevermore. Morticia wants her to open her mind and have this be a good experience. Knowing that isn't likely to happen, she takes other measures so it will

@jona-lea

(if anyone has any Wednesday requests you can message me)

Wednesday had been sulking since she heard the news that she would be enrolling in Nevermore. Morticia sighed softly, holding onto her teacup. It was not an easy decision to send her eldest child so far away but she and Gomez simply had no choice. There were no other schools near them that she hadn’t been expelled from or would take her. 

Now, her daughter had always been strong willed, but these past few days were a bit much even for them. Wednesday was constantly in a foul mood, her tone snappier than usual. It hurt Morticia to see her be this way. It hurt more whenever Wednesday lashed out at her specifically as if this had been her fault. 

She didn’t want to attend and live in Morticia’s shadow. She could understand that, of course, but she knew that Wednesday would forge her own path. It might take some time but she would do it. 

On a dreary day, just two days before they would leave to take her to Nevermore, Morticia suggested to Gomez to take Pugsley on a trip, just the two of them. It would do them good to get out of the house for a while. They left shortly after breakfast, with Lurch driving them. 

Mortica walked up the grand staircase to her daughter’s room. She thought that maybe talking to Wednesday might get her to understand that this would be good for her. 

She knocked, opening the door. “Wednesday, darling?” 

In an unusual display of petulance, she noted that Wednesday was still in bed. She hadn’t come out of her room to eat. She laid in her bed, covered by her blanket, her head sticking out from the upper end. 

“Wednesday, what are you still doing in bed?” She said with a smile. 

“Isn’t it obvious? I have no desire to deal with either of you at the moment.” 

“That’s too bad,” Morticia closed the door. “Lurch made an excellent breakfast. It’s a shame you missed it.” 

“It’s probably no different than any other breakfast.” 

Morticia’s smile turned sad. At one time, she and Wednesday were rather close. It all changed so suddenly, and now her daughter wanted nothing to do with her most of the time. It brought an ache to her heart, one that she hid. She wouldn’t force Wednesday into spending time with her like they used to but she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t miss the way her daughter had freely and openly loved her as a child. 

Wednesday was growing up. And pulling away from her more than ever. 

“Do you mind if we talk, dear?” Morticia was already sitting down on the side of the bed Wednesday wasn’t laying on. 

“I do mind,” Wednesday scoffed. “And I suppose this is your way of trying to convince me to give Nevermore a chance? You don’t need to bother. I have no interest in continuing your legacy.” 

“This is exactly what we need to talk about,” Morticia said to her. “Wednesday, I’m not expecting anything out of you. I want you to find yourself and be the person you are, not an extension of myself.” 

“I’m not Pugsley, Mother. I’m not easily fooled.” 

Against her daughter’s wishes, Morticia pulled back the covers. This made Wednesday angry. She tried to get them back but Morticia had already had them out of her reach. 

“Get out,” Wednesday said firmly. 

“I’m not going to do that,” Morticia shook her head. “We need to have this talk.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I’m afraid you have no choice right now,” Morticia said, taking one of Wednesday's feet so it was in Morticia’s lap. Wednesday yelped in surprise, then outrage. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Unhand me!” 

Morticia was stronger than her daughter was and she used her strength to hold the foot in place. Wednesday's feet were bare as they usually were whenever she was sleeping. Wednesday jerked her leg back to try and free herself but it didn't help her whatsoever. 

“What are you going to do?” Wednesday demanded. 

Morticia’s nails were longer than Wednesday kept hers. It came in quite handy for times like this. Instead of answering her daughter, she stroked the arch of her foot as softly as she could with the tips of her nails. Wednesday jolted in shock. 

“Mother!” 

Morticia pretended not to hear her. Wednesday scrunched her foot up to avoid the tickling. She’d always been quite sensitive there. “Now where was it that Uncle Fester always got you?” She let one finger trace over the ball of her foot and could feel the bed shaking. That didn’t garner enough of a reaction, she decided, so she moved onto the toes. 

“D-Don’t-” Wednesday’s voice was strained. 

Morticia didn’t hear her daughter on the verge of laughter often. She was struggling to hold it in, which might not be for much longer. “Do you promise you’ll give Nevermore a chance, Wednesday? Can you promise that for me?” 

Wednesday squirmed, trying her hardest to escape. “I’ve already told you, Mother, that I’m not going.” 

“While I admire how headstrong you are, now is not the time for this,” Morticia slid her nails in between Wednesday’s toes, raking them back to the base of her foot. A peal of laughter broke through Wednesday’s lips. 

“Nohohohhohott thehehehehere!” 

Helplessly, Wednesday flailed on the bed, her laughter becoming hysterical depending on where the tickling sensations were. Morticia traveled down to just above her heel, giving that spot a good scratch. 

“Are you willing to listen to me now?” Morticia asked over her squeals and giggles. 

Wednesday could not speak coherently, could only shriek and gasp and make more noise than she had in years. Her head was thrown wildly from side to side. Morticia took that as a no. Clicking her tongue in disappointment, she shook her head. 

“One day, you will learn that it is sometimes wise to listen to your mother.” 

On each side of her foot, Morticia swiped a finger down. Wednesday’s laughter lessened some, her chest heaving. She allowed her to catch her breath, patiently waiting. 

“Let...me..go...” Wednesday said breathlessly. 

“As much as I would like to, I don’t think you are ready to discuss anything,” Morticia said, flicking her nails on the trapped foot. Wednesday threw her head back to laugh again. Morticia stayed on the arch, starting off with one finger than slowly introducing more. “And I’m afraid until you’re ready to give Nevermore a chance, I won’t be letting you go.” 

“Plhehehehease sthohohop!” Wednesday begged. 

“Will you give Nevermore a chance?” Morticia repeated herself. “And make the best of it?” 

She scratched at Wednesday’s toes again, resulting in a scream of “Yes!” to ring out. 

Morticia let go. Wednesday pulled her foot away, angry and embarrassed over what just happened. 

Smiling lovingly at her daughter, Morticia said, “I want you to experience everything Nevermore has to offer and not miss out on it because you’ve already determined it's a waste of your time. Try it for the first semester and if you truly hate it, your father and I will look into a home tutor for you. Is that something you will agree to?” 

Wednesday sat up, keeping her feet tucked under her for safety. “Yes,” she said, voice a bit hoarse from the laughter she’d put it through. 

Morticia leaned over to kiss Wednesday’s head. She did not object. 

On her way out, Morticia turned back and said, 

“It was good to hear you laugh, Darling.” 

[sirdolraan]

Timey-wimey Revelations

(( DWC May 2024, @daily-writing-challenge, Day 3, Shame/Favorite, CW: None ))

Spiru was resting in Halfhill, recovering from the big battle of Stoneplow, when she received the message.

The message was written on simple, local paper, handed to her by a grummle who carried post. "I'll be in Gardener Fran's barn after dark. You've held up your end of the bargain, now I will do the same."

And thus, that very night, Spiru silently clambered into the upper window of the barn, landing silently within. Her training in the ways of the pandaren monks were paying dividends, and she had grown quite proud of her growing abilities.

"Ah, hello friend! You're looking much more vibrant that last I saw you. Though I suppose that was inevitable," the voice said, as a dwarven woman with yellow, draconic eyes emerged into the moonlight coming in from the window.

"Nice to meet you face to face. What do I call you?" Spiru asked, eyeing the shadows of the barn. They seemed empty, save for a few sleeping yaks.

"Call me Tawnee, and as I'm sure you realize, I am your benefactor, of a sort. You've done very well for yourself in this pocket of time," she said, smiling broadly with her visage.

"Then it's time for answers. I've played along, even made some friends. But I need to know what is going on."

Tawnee's smile faltered a bit, her eyes turning down and putting a shade of sadness on it. "What do you know of the bronze dragonflight, and their purpose?"

"They protect time from those who'd abuse it." Spiru replied, swiftly.

"That they do, in the name of the 'true' timeline, as declared by the titans and Nozdormu. Part of that duty is dealing with timelines that exist alongside, but shouldn't. Timelines like yours. Usually, they fade away on their own. Sometimes, they need to be pruned, lest they become a target for other forces, like the void. That used to be my job."

"Used to be?" Spiru asked, teal eyebrow arching.

"I was bronze before I was infinite. It was the pruning of your timeline that pushed me over the edge, as it were," Tawnee replied, stepping forward and lowering herself to the floor of the barn, carefully arranging her skirts around her. Leaving herself vulnerable on purpose. "The decision to end your timeline was made by Nozdormu himself, it was too persistent, but it didn't fit. It was a threat, a way for the enemy to get in, he said. So we did our work, redirecting the sands of time, and cutting the threads of fate so that your whole existence would just fade away. No pain, no suffering, no joy, just.... gone. I was one of those who entered to ensure all was as it needed to be. During that inspection, I saw you, Spiru. I saw you walking down a street in Gnomeregan, full of life and love, and bearing that special spark. Your Azeroth had already marked you."

"Marked me? The planet?"

"The worldsoul. She marks mortals, empowers them. Those she choses become important people, heroes and villains. It's said that even death has trouble claiming them. And you were destined to be one of them. Even as we set your timeline to collapse, I found myself wondering what destiny you would have forged. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. That loss of possibility, the loss of you, consumed me." Tawnee regarded Spiru sadly. "And it led me away from my family, to the Infinite. Those of us who wanted to make a better future, one without mortal suffering. One where we acted for our charges, not our former masters. I joined the infinite to save you, my champion to be."

Spiru regarded the dragon before her, the perfect image of a dwarven princess, vulnerable and open. A sham, surely. She was a dragon, and her visage's vulnerability could be erased in an instant. But Spiru couldn't sense any lies. "Wait.... did you fall in love with me?"

Tawnee laughed ruefully. "I thought I had. But what I fell in love with was the idea of you, the you I built in my mind. You aren't her. But you -are-, and I want you to keep -being-. That's why I broke the rules to restore you, and sneak you in to this grand experiment."

"So what, you restore me and only me, and just expect me to enter this 'True Timeline' in the crowd and hope no one notices?"

"It cost me a lot to get enough of you to rebuild. Any more and I might not be here. And yes, essentially. There are others from different timelines being given a second chance, you're just from a timeline that doesn't exist anymore, hardly that different as long as you don't tell anyone."

Spiru's head swam. The enormity of the situation bore down on her, and she struggled to grasp the ramifications. "What do I have to do to make sure I don't just disappear again?"

"Keep as you are. The threads of fate you're gathering for your cloak aren't just making you stronger, they're helping to reinforce you. Get far enough, get strong enough, and you'll be indistinguishable from the prime's natives. It will be as if you always were. And I'll have some chance of finding redemption for all the lives I gently erased in the name of duty."

Spiru nodded. "Alright then. I will do that, however," she turned her back to the dragon, "I will not be doing it for you. I thank you for your aid, but it's probably best for us both if we just tend to our own business from now on."

Tawnee sighed. "Yes, I had a feeling you'd feel that way. I will honor your wish, Spiru. But whoever you do it for, please. Live gloriously, and don't hold back. More than I are rooting for your success, after all. Her blessing is still with you."

"... Azeroth, you mean?"

"Yes. It appeared shortly after I finished your reconstruction. I took it as a sign I was doing things correctly. She's counting on you."

"We'll see." Spiru said, and then she was gone, leaping back to the upper level and exiting through the window, jumping on the back of her kite and flying away on the valley's winds.

She had a lot to consider.