#posting both it and the hanahaki preview

[youhearstatic]

a court of denim and fire

(prologue/preview of ACOTAR Blupjeans AU)

There was no time. Barry could feel the complicated spell weave closing around them, feel his power being pulled away, being pulled to her, the dark and awful claws of her magic digging into him, claiming him.

With the secret scraps of magic still remaining under his control he threw his own dense tapestry of magic out, far away to his Court, to his home. He could feel his family - Magnus, Julia, and Kravitz - all realize what he was doing, feel their protest. But there wasn’t time for another option, wasn’t even time to explain. He could keep them safe at least. Keep one place protected from this. From her.

Then the connection was cut off and most of his magic was stripped away.

Now he had a part to play. A role he’d have to excel at if that safety were to last. He squared his shoulders and held his head high. He would make whatever sacrifices were necessary to know his family, his true home, was protected.

—-

Taako was sick again. His fever had come down some in the last few hours but it had spiked overnight for the last three days. A fourth might finally be too much.

Lup couldn’t watch him fade and fight and fade again. She had to get the doctor and that meant she had to get money.

“I’ll be back,” she told him as she fastened her cloak around her throat. She picked up her bow and quiver. “I’ll bring you help, I pro-”

“Don’t promise,” he whispered, his eyes feverishly bright.

“Taako? I promise.”

[neobowlingshoez]

Someone’s Someone- Preview

Synopsis: Y/N loves Jeno. Jeno loves Lia. Lia loves Jeno. And Jaemin loves Y/N. What happens when both Jaemin and Y/N fall sick?

Pairings: Jeno x OC, Jaemin x reader

Trope(s): Friends to lovers, Friends to lovers to exes

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, kind of a slow burn (takes forever for Y/N and Jaemin to get together 🙄), food trigger warning, jealousy, and more that will be added

Cai: This is my first writing posted on here. I wanted to post a preview to see what y’all think. I might do a taglist for this if people ask. Anyways here is the preview for Someone’s someone:

—-

Y/N stared at them. They looked so happy, like a scene from a romance movie. They were hugging playfully, the male kissing his female companion on the cheek.Y/N’s heart ached as she left the cafe with her drink, heading home.

It was particularly cold today, bringing back her memories from a few weeks ago:

He stood quietly, sighing in distress. “I’m sorry Y/N, I like someone else,” he said. Damn it, she thought. Suddenly, someone walked over. It was someone Y/N didn’t expect, “Oh hi Y/N,” Lia said, wrapping her arm around Jeno’s waist.

“Lia is my girlfriend. We have been dating for a while,” Jeno stated. Y/N stood there in shock. “Oh, okay. Forget about what I said. I hope for the best for you two,” she continued awkwardly smiling and walking away.

Jeno, Y/N, and Lia have been a tight-knit group since they were kids. Been through many ups and downs. This was their biggest down together.

The trio hasn’t spoken to each other since. Mainly because the new couple blocked Y/N.

Hearing her phone vibrate, Y/N took it out of her pocket. “Hello?” she said after answering the phone. “Y/N! Let’s hang out,” the person on the other line replied.

“Okay, I’m outside a cafe right now,” she responded. “I know, turn around,” the person giggled.

She turned out, eyes looking at the person in front of her. He smiled, walking over to her and hanging up. “Hello,” he cheered. “Hi Jaemin,” she responded.

“So….What are we doing?” she continued. “Let’s have a movie night. Like old times. I know you’ve been upset since Lia and Jeno are dating. So let me treat you,” he said.

She sighed. “Alrighty,” replied to her very giggly friend. They both walked away, quietly.

—-

“Romance?”

“Ew gross”

“Okay… Action?”

“Not in the mood,”

“Horror?”

“That’s more like it!”

“But I don’t wanna watch horror,” Jaemin whined. “But Jaem you love horror movies,” Y/N whined back. “

“Yeah but I’m not in the mood,” he justifies. “Okay sorry. How about a thriller?” Y/N replied. “No, no. Horror is fine,” Jaemin insisted.

Well, it wasn’t fine. Halfway through the movie, Jaemin started to yawn. “Okay this is getting boring,” Y/N complained, turning off the TV. Jaemin sighed in relief.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jaemin asked. “If you want to listen,” Y/N responded. “I’ll listen,”

She sighed. “I just feel so stupid. I mean Jeno and Lia have been speaking about how much they like their crush and finding out they are dating. It’s hard. And now they blocked me on all social media platforms. It’s as if they don't want to be my friend anymore,” she vented.

“Y/N you aren’t stupid. Jeno is my roommate and trust me he didn't tell me it was Lia he was seeing. He tells me everything. I’m sure they didn’t want to hurt you in any way.” Jaemin assures.

She smiled. Suddenly she felt nauseous. Running out of the living room, Jaemin was on her tail. She rushed to the toilet. Bending down, she started coughing. Once she was finished she looked up. “Why did I cough up blood and flowers?” she questioned her friend.

He knelt down to her level. “I don’t know. Why don’t you change into more comfortable clothes and I’ll wait for you. We can look it up together,” he explained, walking out of the bathroom once he finished.

After Y/N changed, she jumped into bed, placing her head on his shoulder. “Coughing up blood and flowers,” Jaemin spoke while typing on the keyboard.

The first thing that showed up was ‘Hanahaki Disease’. Jaemin clicked on the first link that showed up:

“Hanahaki Disease occurs when one experiences unrequited love. That is, one-sided love. The patient's throat will fill up with flowers, then proceed to throw and cough up petals. There are two ways the patient can recover: One is where the patient’s crush likes them back in a romantic way or Two via surgery where the feelings disappear along with the flowers. However if one doesn’t choose either option then the lungs will fill up with flowers, suffocating them,” Jaemin read out loud.

“Oh…” she said disappointedly. “Well, my only option is surgery. Since Jeno is with someone else. But I’m broke so I guess I’ll just live until I suffocate,” she confesses after assessing her options.

“Y/N don’t think that way. You never know if you will stop coughing flowers up,” Jaemin pouted. Suddenly, Y/N started getting emotional.

“Jaemin, you can’t tell anyone,” Y/N sniffled. “I won’t. I promise. But I won’t let you be alone. Someone needs to take care of you,” he assured.

—

Full story out July 31

[definitelynotshouting]

figured i'd post a preview of the family hanahaki au for those who are interested. No beta so any and all mistakes are mine, also keep in mind everything in here is subject to change!

--

L’Manberg’s crater is a ghost.

It’s too quiet; silence pools thick and dripping into the crevasses between rubble. Even the lightest of steps kick up ash in their wake, trailing after him like the mantle of a long-forgotten king.

Nobody’s seen Ranboo in days.

Ostensibly, that’s why Tommy’s here. That’s his excuse, anyway-- another reason to drift through the remnant carnage, hunting down scraps of information. Ranboo had disappeared during the fighting, after all; Tubbo’s hopeful.

Tommy just wants closure.

So he walks, gravel crunching underfoot, cut to the echoes of TNT exploding in his ears. There’s no rhyme or reason to his path; it meanders at random, stuttering over the ruins of familiar buildings. There, what’s left of Fundy’s house-- and over there, a heap of cracked timber where Tubbo’s podium once stood. It washes over him with tidal intensity, swirling around his ankles, rising in his chest; this wreckage was his home.

Now it’s nothing more than a phantom, haunted by memory.

It still hasn’t sank in yet, that Phil-- Prime, Phil-- and Technoblade are responsible for this. Techno is at least easy to digest: he’d never minced words about what he was planning for L’Manberg. But Phil--

Phil--

Tommy tears his thoughts from where that subject hunches, sore and cankered. He can’t-- he just can’t, right now. Not when the cavern Wil left is still eating him alive. Not when brighter memories layer over the stony eyes Phil had met him with across the battlefield.

Not when everything he’s ever known lies in shambles at his feet.

With an absent kick, Tommy sends a pebble clattering off into the distance. His shadow scurries after it; the sun’s slipped from its peak, blazing harsh and golden past the cracked earth surrounding him. That’s his cue; Tommy sweeps his gaze over the wreckage, holding it up against his mental map.

There it is, a few yards out and to the left. Out of everything here, Ranboo’s house maintains the most structural integrity. It squats, half-crumbling, near a pile of tumbled stones; the roof has caved in, but three out of four walls still stand.

Tommy makes his precarious way over, squinting through the sunlight. Splinters of wood decorate the gap where a door used to be-- he ducks past them, steps tentative and shoulders hunched. What he's expecting, even he doesn't know.

Ranboo's home is an empty husk: shattered planks, broken stone, crushed furniture. A few surviving books linger in between the piles of rubble, pages torn and singed. Tommy picks one up at random-- he can't make out the title anymore, no matter how hard he scrubs at its soot-stained cover.

Whatever it is, Ranboo hasn't deemed it important enough to come back for. Tommy sets it back down, wipes his hands on his pants, and gets to searching.

In the end, there isn't much to find: just the odds and ends that come with daily living, splayed in great arcs against the floor. Empty drawers discarded in the bedroom. Plate shards spread in what's left of the kitchen. A scrap of material yielding a name tag-- one of Ranboo's pets. No signs of life, just the harried marks of a hasty retreat, as if Ranboo had known what was coming.

As if someone had told him.

Tommy doesn't spot them until his final sweep of the house, when the sun has made its descent and bleak rays kiss the horizon. There, just in the doorway, hidden by shadows-- two long, black feathers.

Only one person on this server has feathers like that.

Tommy bends to retrieve them with trembling fingers, something rough and bitter unfurling in his chest. His gut clenches with it, carves an aching hole in the center of his ribcage. How many times has he held similar feathers, brushed his fingers around their gaps and edges? Been enveloped in their warmth, preened them out with smooth, measured motions?

More than enough to recognize them on sight. Tommy sucks in a sharp breath, twirling the feathers in one hand. Dying sunlight glints off of each barbule, bathing their vanes in oil-slick rainbows.

The pieces fall together with a soft click.

Oh, Tommy thinks, staring hard at nothing in particular. His eyes bounce off the feathers before they can make full contact, peer too close-- like if he settles on them, the full impact of what this means won't be reversible. As if it's not already.

Oh.

With quick, jerky motions, Tommy pulls up his communicator. The call is punched with shaky fingers, clenched tight and bloodless around his comm's frame.

Tubbo answers immediately. "You find anything, Big T?"

"Uh," Tommy says; it comes out thick and croaky. He clears his throat, tries again. "Yeah, um-- looks like he left before all the fighting. And the TNT. I think--" Tommy pauses. Licks dry lips, shudders under the darkening sky. He'll have to leave soon, before the mobs swarm from their hiding places.

"Wherever he is," Tommy says at last, "I think he's okay."

Tubbo's voice rings heavy with doubt. "You sure? Sorry, I'm just-- I'm just worried, y'know? He hasn't come 'round, and--"

"Positive." Tommy takes another deep breath. It hitches in his chest, scrapes the inside of his esophagus with diamond precision. "Look, he's fine, Tubbo, he'll come around when he's ready. Probably got spooked after… you know."

"... If you're sure."

"When am I ever wrong?" Tommy tries to infuse it with his usual verve, but it falls flat, exhausted. His is a fire long burnt out, crushed to choked off embers.

"Right, right, sorry." The hint of a grin colours the words. "Well… I'll see you, then?"

"Yeah," Tommy says, quiet. Breathes it out as a promise to the evening air. "See you around, big man."

The call disconnects with a faint hiss of static, leaving Tommy to stand stock-still in the fading light, surrounded by ruin.

Somehow, that's what breaks him.

Tommy sinks to the ground, clutching both feathers in one tired fist. The other curves over his face, concealing the way his vision blurs and wavers. Hot, bitter betrayal surges up his spine, weaves hooks in the lining of his lungs.

Fine. If Phil wants to replace him, with someone better, someone smarter and kinder, that's-- that's fine. It's fine.

Tommy leans forward until the feathers tickle his forehead, and sobs.

[emilyelizabethfowl]

You know what? I’m feeling kinda good right now, and I’m proud of my fics, so I’m going to show one series off a little: BNHA, Midoriya Izuku / Uraraka Ochako / Bakugo Katsuki. A three-fics long series, a little over 8k total. 

First one is the old and tested Hanahaki AU, second one a bit of “slice of [hero’s] life” fic with focus on Ochako, and the third one is shameless fluff. 

Here’s the link to the collection containing all three ones

Here’s the first one’s, “Loves Me, Loves Me Not” summary:

The flowers were getting harder to hide.

Of course, they were always hard to hide, as entire handfuls of flowers falling out of your mouth during violent coughing tend to be. But as the illness was progressing, there was more of them every day, and they were coming out at shorter intervals.

She was… not really sure how she’s gotten the hanahaki disease. No one really did, even with all the effort put into the research to understand it. Sure, everyone knew it appeared more or less at the same time quirks did, but there wasn’t even a single hypothesis that could explain how it was appearing in random people all around the world.

The information they did have wasn’t all that plentiful either. You fall in unrequited love, you cough up flowers. Simple as that.

And my fav line:

“I’m amazed at the endless well of useless knowledge you seem to possess,” Kacchan deadpanned, causing Ochaco to giggle.

Here’s the summary of the second one, “The World Weighs Nothing When We Lift It Together”

Uraraka Ochaco uses her powers during a rescue mission.

And since it might not be very descriptive, here’s a bit of a preview:

The woman was hesitant to let her go. Uraraka was slowly starting to consider being harsher than strictly necessary and just dump her on the cot provided by the medics. She could just blame it on the stress or something later. Well, maybe “hesitant” was the wrong word to use. She was clutching at Uraraka’s neck with all her might. Granted, all her might wasn’t a lot considering she’s been buried in debris not so long ago, but it was still enough to make Uravity’s life harder than it could’ve been. And then it was made even harder. “Wow, Round Face, leaving us for a random rescuée?” Of course Kacchan chose that exact moment to drop off the villains Deku and he captured. Because nothing in her life could be simple. At least the comment prompted the woman to finally let her go. Uraraka left her in the care of a paramedic and quickly stepped back, unwilling to become a living teddy bear once again. Or maybe the woman let go because it was not only Kacchan, but Kacchan and Deku, and they were both covered in blood? Who knows.

And here is the third one, “Step By Step, Together”:

Uraraka, Midoriya and Bakugo are rehearsing their wedding dance. Or rather they're trying to do so, seeing as they fail miserably more than once.

And a bit from the inside:

“Can you see what’s wrong, now?” Kacchan asked after soothing his parched throat. Two identical looks of utter confusion answered him. “I think I can see the problem,” All Might called out from his post near the door. Kacchan glanced over his arm. “Figured you would wake up to mentor us.” Toshinori fixed the lapels of his suit anxiously. For once the piece was actually fitting him, instead of hanging off of his frame like an over-bright attempt on a scarecrow. The fitting attire did nothing to alleviate the anxiety evoked by Kacchan’s scathing remarks. “You do?” Izuku perked up, staring at All Might with his usual stars-filled gaze. “What’s the matter, then?” Ochaco asked, “I can’t see anything wrong!” The two of them managed to restore Toshinori’s confidence, prompting him to turn on his Mentor Voice. “That’s because there isn’t anything wrong!” He boomed jovially. “It’s just a matter of… Well, versatility!” This time there were three blank stares. “If I hadn’t known what the problem was already,” Kacchan was the first to break the silence,”I wouldn’t have fucking understood what you just say. Hell, I still don’t!” “May I get that rephrased, please?” Midoriya added timidly, while Uraraka nodded in agreement.

[ilovelocust]

Ughhh, so I want to get pretty far into the Hanahaki Blackmail fic, before I start posting chapters on Ao3 and in the tags. Because it looks like it will be really long, and I don’t want it to be one of those fics I abandon after three chapters. It’d give the wrong idea about where the fic was heading if I don’t reach a certain point. Which would defeat the point of writing it.

At the same time, I’m impatient and still want to show people what I write, so compromise. If you want a sneak preview. You can look under the read more.

...

The farmer’s daughter lays artfully sprawled by the pond, where she first met the Prince as a child. Ruby red petals spill from her lips as she uses her dying breathes to proclaim her absence of regrets that true feelings have left her to the ill fate of the Lover’s Curse. The vines may steal the air from her lungs, but she will pass on knowing that she has been blessed to feel more deeply than any other.

Tears prickle the corners of Lance’s eyes. He’s seen the scene a hundred times, but even knowing the Prince is only moments away from bursting free of the forest and that soon the disease’s grasp will be lifted as she finds her true love requited, can not take the power from her words. The movie came from a time when people dared to believe in Love. When people didn’t try to cure their feelings with scalpels and doctors but with declarations of passion.

If only he could be so lucky to be the host of flowers. He wouldn’t cast aside fates messenger so casually. He would treasure it as the gift it was, an affirmation that his feelings were no mere crush to be tossed aside but the most pure form of love.

Somebody snickers beside him, Lance scowls. Keith’s muffling any further noise with his hand as Shiro whispers something mocking in his ear. Case in point, instead of taking advantage of this clearly romantic setting to enchant Keith, Shiro would rather make fun of the film and the emotions portrayed. Some people didn’t appreciate the opportunities they were given. If it was him, he’d never make the same mistake.

The music picks up. The Kiss! Lance looks back just as the Prince holds the Farmer’s Daughter in his arms and kisses her like the Queen she will be. Lance’s heart swells. At least in one place, things happen as they should.

-

Keith’s laughter is like the sweetest of music. Genuine and from the heart, all the more valuable for how hard it can be to elicit. Lance is swept up in it, almost so much that he can forget that while Keith is laughing at his jokes it is Shiro’s arm wrapped around Keith’s shoulders.

Shiro says something, and Keith is no longer laughing for him, smiling up at Shiro instead. It is not jealousy burning his chest but longing. Keith had once given him soft smiles like that. When Shiro’s was lost for all those months, they’d gotten so close. Lance had been the one to remind him to leave his room, to show up for class, to eat something not from the microwave. He’d been a rock of stability with enough humor to make sure that Keith still laughed. When Shiro hadn’t been there for Keith, Lance had.

The waitress shows them to their table. He and Hunk on one side, Shiro and Keith on the other. Keith isn’t smiling anymore. That wouldn’t happen if he was the one on that side of the table. Lance would give Keith the world. Take him out dancing, show him the joys of spontaneous walks in the rain. Keith would never stop smiling for him, because he’d never let Keith be unhappy. They could have both been so good together, if Keith just wasn’t so loyal.

When Shiro had come back from the war scarred and missing an arm, Keith had glued himself to Shiro’s side. He was too good of a person to end a relationship right after a tragedy, so he’d left Lance behind and taken a break from school to help Shiro recover. Lance had gone from eating lunch with Keith everyday to not seeing him for four months, and when he had seen him again, well the strain had been written clearly across his features. Keith’s eyes had been black with lack of sleep. His expressions tired.

Keith had never been one to share his feelings. Even when they were close, insight into his thoughts had come more as outbursts that Keith couldn’t suppress than quiet conversation, but Lance payed attention. He saw the look on his face, when Keith and Pidge had talked together about dealing with Shiro and Matt’s trauma. The look hadn’t been full of joy like it should be when discussing someone you were dating.

The burning in Lance’s chest increased as Keith began to talk of his classes. Ones he no longer shared with Lance because of his time off. It simply wasn’t fair. Keith was young. He should be enjoying his life to its fullest. Shiro was a good guy, but Keith shouldn’t have to let everything else slide to take care of Shiro.

He should have confessed when he had the chance. Then Keith wouldn’t have felt obligated to go back to Shiro, and they would be together instead. Now it was too late. Keith would never leave Shiro.

The emotions stick in Lance’s throat, “I’ll be right back,” Lance excuses himself, walking quickly towards the men’s room. He needs a few moments to collect himself, before he can go back and be the goofy guy everyone loves. The bathroom door swings shut behind him. Right now he feels likes he’s gagging on it all. Lance tries to breathe in and chokes. Wait no, he’s actually gagging. A hard cough and something starts to drag up his esophagus. Lance grabs the sink for support. More hacking coughs and the thing works its way out of his throat to plop out on the white porcelain of the sink.

Lance looks down at the thing he choked up. It can’t be. It’s so rare, no one in his family has ever experienced it, but rubbing his eyes doesn’t dispel the image.

Fate’s calling card, in the form of a single blood red petal.

Note: The rest of this fic is going to be from Keith’s perspective, but I felt starting with Lance made the most sense. He’s the major force behind Keith’s predicament, and I wanted people to know why he ends up behaving the way he does...Though, when I post this for real, I’m probably going to have to put a big fat unreliable narrator warning on the chapter. Lance doesn’t understand Keith or why he does things nearly as much as he thinks he does.

[youhearstatic]

lovesick

(Hanahaki preview/prologue scene)

Marlena pulled the door to her brother’s room shut behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. She sagged against the door frame, exhausted.

“Mom?”

Jerking her head up, she saw her son peering out of his doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes. “Go back to bed, sweetheart, it’s late.”

“Is Uncle Darian gonna be okay?”

Marlena sighed. She’d been trying to avoid this topic in her own head but now, at 4 o’clock in the morning, it seemed she was going to have the conversation with her six year old.

“Let’s get you tucked back in bed and we’ll talk about it.” She crossed the hall and pushed the door wide, letting the light from the hallway illuminate the bedroom rather than turning on the light.

Barry climbed into bed and she helped him arrange the blankets again. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair back from his worried forehead.

“Uncle Darry is really sick,” she told him honestly. “And he’s not going to get better.”

“The flowers are hurting him?”

Marlena nodded. “The flowers are… Uncle Darian loves someone very much, someone who doesn’t love him back and…”

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why don’t they love him back? Can’t we ask? Make them?”

“Oh, sweetie... Well, sometimes people just don’t. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s not that man’s fault that he doesn’t love Darian and it’s not Darian’s fault for loving him. He just does and… well, it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with all this love. So it makes flowers. But there’s too many and… they make it hard to breathe. And eventually he won’t be able to at all.”

“Like he’s swimming?”

“Yeah, like he’s underwater,” she agreed. “But for now he’s still here and we can love him and spend time with him.” She ruffled his hair and added, “And draw him pictures. And tell him about cool frogs.”

“And read my space book to him?”

“Absolutely, he’d love that. He’s the one that bought it for you.”

“I’ll read it to him tomorrow!” Barry’s smile was overtaken by a yawn. He turned over on his side and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“G’night, sweetie.”

“‘Night, momma,” he answered, voice already softened by sleepiness.

Marlena smoothed the blanket over his shoulder. Barry was so much like his uncle. They both loved so enthusiastically, throwing their whole hearts into it. She hoped when Barry found love it came back to him.