#preferably at the start of the lantern rite event for this year but so long as i post it during lantern rite I'll be fine

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! :3

[behindtherobinsmask]

tagged by @runnfromtheak

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. I write the most random things so if you can actually find a pattern then... let me know. Help a fool out. 

P.S. - I know it says opening line and not paragraph but come on, that doesn’t do any story justice.

Gonna do my tags before because this turned out to be longer than expected - @elwon @stevieraebarnes @epistemologys 

1. All The Times Damian Wayne Felt Loved 

This was a birthday fic I wrote for a darling friend of mine. The whole time I was writing this my biggest fear was that the characters were going to... just not be right. Still have that fear.

“Gripping onto a pillow, Damian walked down the dark halls of his grandfather’s house, uncertainty clouding every step that he made. At this hour of the night, no one seemed to be around yet he could feel eyes watching his every move. The eyes of the stars in the sky, the moon and the many trained soldiers that had years of practice when it came to blending into the shadows. It was their presence that forced him to walk with his head held high, to bat away the tears in his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. Pretend that he wasn’t afraid.”

2. To all the stars that are listening

Another birthday fic (maybe that was the pattern all along jk). I actually really enjoyed writing this fic because I felt like I was back in my zone (my zone being angst). Can’t wait to get started on the second part.

“Dick’s life had been anything but ordinary since he was a child. As someone who grew up in the circus, his morning was spent studying with the other kids that travelled with his troupe while in the afternoon, he practiced with his heart and soul to fly as beautifully as his parents. In the nights, he’d stand on the sidelines and watch them perform, absolutely awed by the way their bodies moved, each twist, each turn so seamless, every difficult stunt seemed easy in their skin. Clinging onto the edge of the tent, he wished with all his heart that someday, he could be just like them. A bird freed. With every wish, his voice grew louder and louder until somewhere, up above, a star heard his cry. It heard his desire to be free. The chains that grounded him slowly slipped away and he flew with practiced grace. And just as Dick spread his wings, his parents fell. Birds flightless.

Freedom he had asked for and freedom he had received.”

3. Come here, won’t you hold my hand?

Listen, I spend hours of my life playing genshin impact. Did you really think I wouldn’t write a fic for it? 

“After chasing the traveler away, Xiao sighed, wondering if now was the time to head back to Wangshu Inn. There he could stay away from the harbour and its people, away from the wishes made on stars that could never hear them, away from their fragile happiness that he could shatter with a single touch. Someone like Xiao, so burdened with sins, could never mingle among the mortals without bringing harm. Wherever he went, only misery ever followed. But even though he knew that it would be best for him to leave, a part of him, as silly as it was, worried that the journey back would make him miss out on the opportunity to see an old friend. While he never attended the Lantern Rite in Liyue, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of the Mingxiao lantern that always honored the adepti. It was only at that moment that he could lose himself to the past momentarily and remember a time when he wasn’t so alone, when his battle wasn’t only his to fight.”

4. Jon Kent Must Die

A jaydick flashfic challenge gave birth to this crack series and I will happily go down with this ship. I’ve written too many of these and maybe, in the future I’ll write more. Who will stop me? God? I don’t think so. 

“Damian was sick and tired of his siblings.

Never had he met two people who were so dependent on their partners that they needed them around 24/7. It didn’t matter whether it was day or not, whether they were at the manor or in their respective homes, wherever his brothers went, their fool boyfriends seemed to follow. The obligatory family dinner had been turned into a circus with Todd’s usual clownery that had Damian rolling his eyes so hard that sometimes he was afraid they’d just pop out of his skull. Kent was no better. In fact, on more than one occasion, he had encouraged Todd’s rambling as though he was God’s chosen prophet, sharing his truth with the world. Damian really wished, just for a day, the two of them would simply go away. It wasn’t that he missed his siblings or anything. He just wished to have a conversation with Richard that didn’t end with him wanting to stab someone. Hopefully a 5’11 man with black hair with a streak of white and deep green eyes that could find a conspiracy in Titus’s preferred pose for napping.”

5. I wanna be in your arms by the sea (studying your freckles so curiously)

Yes. It’s another genshin impact fic. Sue me. (Please don’t I’m broke).

“Every night, Zhongli saw the same dream.

Caressed by the gentle winds of the Guili plains, he watched over his people, Guizhong’s people as they lived in prosperity, enjoying the calm and gentle wind that wrapped around them. Serenity was a blessing and they had an abundance of it. In the beginning, when Guizhong had described such a scene, something knit carefully in her imagination, he had not believed her. But now that he was seeing with his own two eyes, he was glad that he had agreed to her terms. Glad that he had formed a contract that had been beneficial for all.”

6. I stay up late and talk to the moon (And I can’t stop telling her all about you)

A christmas exchange fic that I loved writing because it really got me back into the writing for jaydick. It had been a while since I touched anything fandom related. Then this story happened. 

“According to Jason, there weren’t many things that Bruce really got right. Not with his rules that could never be bent for anyone or his sickeningly righteous sense of justice. But if there was one thing Bruce excelled in, it was throwing the world’s most boring party ever. Every event that ever took place in the Wayne manor was the same. Classical music. Champagne flutes. Appetizers that could never replicate Alfred’s cooking and finally, the same old rich folks of Gotham who needed to be filled in on the latest gossip lest they melt into a puddle.”  

7. Now I’m going down on you (proving what I want is true) Who told me I could write smut? Please take away my license. “Click. Click. Click. With a heavy sigh, Dick switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside after an hour of clicking through the channels, unable to find anything that would keep his mind occupied. Two weeks ago, during a drug bust with the rest of the bats, Dick had suffered an injury to his shoulder which he considered rather minor. But Alfred and Barbara said otherwise as he was benched until he healed, his own city taken over by other vigilantes while he was forced to sit at home and entertain himself with murder mysteries with plot twists he saw coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, even when he hit the gym to let go of some restless energy, he could only do the most basic of workouts, the kind that simply weren’t enough for someone who was so used to being active all day long.”

8. Wayne Boys Unsolved

Another crack fic that I really enjoyed writing. Poor Yvonne though. She was really suffering. 

“Yvonne’s body was thrumming with excitement as she peeked out the window of her room, her eyes falling on the black car that just pulled up in front of her house. Four boys stepped out, ones that she was so very familiar with. After all, she had spent many nights watching every single video they uploaded on their blog. They were paranormal investigators of sorts, the kind that didn’t believe in the supernatural and lived to debunk the stories that revolved around each haunted location. Because people loved to watch them so, both alive and dead, the boys had become famous in every circle possible.”

9. You make me wanna die (I’m burning up in the light)

Another birthday fic and the first dark story I ever wrote. Writing this was fun but also nerve-wracking. 

“I think we need a break.

Two years, three months, four days and seven hours. That was how long it had been since Jason had said those words to Dick, sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, silk sheets pooled around his scarred waist, the white of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, droplets of it swimming down his throat and across his bare chest that was bruised red with bite marks, across the autopsy scar that he had been reborn with. He looked like a picture, each feature painted so delicately with colours that pulled, that hypnotised and drowned. The fingers of his right hand flexed, parted and then brushed across the back of his neck, tracing the bond mark that tied him down to Dick, shuddering slightly under the imprint, his heady scent spreading across the room like a drug. Strong, so fucking strong that Dick could still taste it on his tongue. Looking like that, after everything they had done, when he opened his mouth, when he said the words that had been sitting on the tipping of his tongue, it was only to end everything that they were.”

10. Come fire up the night (make me feel alive)

Who told me I could write smut (2)

“Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, Dick lay in his bed, tired but unable to fall asleep, the ticking of the clock haunting him. Tick. He took in a deep breath. Tock. He closed his eyes. Tick. He tried to sleep. Tock. Every memory of Jason came rushing back to him. The dark hair with a streak of white that framed his chiselled face. The plump lower lip that he often dreamt about kissing, pulled between his teeth until Jason was groaning. The freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Those deep green orbs that gleamed with mischief, teasing and taunting, burning with unbridled fury, one look enough to make Dick’s knees tremble. And as goosebumps spread across his arms, he found himself waking up, lest he did something that he knew he would regret. Like calling up Jason and confessing feelings that were better left unspoken, buried in a special graveyard from which there would be no sudden resurrections.”

[hazusreaderinserts]

Legacy [Naruto Reader-Insert]

You’re definitely a Yamanaka, aren’t you?

Family and Village secrets run rampant. All you wanna do is survive long enough to see Naruto become Hokage and to find out who you really are.

[Fem! Reader x Various]

Warnings: Long Plot, Slow-burn, the slowest of the burns.

Crossposted on Wattpad and Quotev Masterlist

Chapter 4

The 'Deer Festival', as the civs of Konoha affectionately dubs. It was one of the biggest yearly celebrations of Konoha. Every other clan in Konoha had their own tradition. The Uchiha clan had their 'Festival of Fans', a summer event that you subtly think was a ploy to increase their clan income.

The Deer Festival is a festival that is held every year at the Nara compound to celebrate the arrival of the Takemikazuchi-no-Mikoto. A great god that was thought to have descended from the heavens with a pure white deer as his steed.

You also know of another, more recent myth; If you spot the White Deer, you'd be destined for great things. And if you and your significant other manage to catch a glimpse...

You know how it goes.

At dusk, all of the villagers gather in front of the Hokage Mountain and a grand procession (which all the men in the Nara clan would have to take part in) will lead them towards the Nara compound (which would be set up with stalls that sells various things like food and other relevant goods) where some religious rites will be performed.

The festival ends when dawn breaks.

The Yamanaka and Akimichi clan members show up, of course. All the clans do.  Akimichi sold food. Yamanaka sold drinks and various corsages of the botanical variety. Uchiha sold round paper fans in various designs, in homage to the origins of their name. The Aburame usually have several vendors dedicated to their love of bugs and the Inuzuka preferred selling goods of the animal variety. Other clans joined in the fun too, but this year there didn't seem to be many.

Brother stands beside you with you in a plain black yukata with a beige haori, draped over his shoulders. His ninjato, which he carries around in his normal shinobi clothing, was tucked neatly into his sash.

"She's a jealous one, she never leaves once she gets a hold of you. " He says with a smile when you ask, earning him a look of extreme doubt. It's a sword. Swords don't have emotions. His smile doesn't reach his eyes. Brother only smiles like that when he wants to deflect the situation. Or if he's lying. You don't know which of the two is his reason.

But you couldn't deny that it was beautiful in both craftsmanship and make. The handle is long and narrow, and the cord wrap looked worn. It was dusty and faded, like it had seen many battles which it probably had. The blade itself is taller than you. It was an heirloom from Mother's side of the family and Brother had been the one to wield it when he came of age. He was 10 when the sword chose him.

You spot the carving of a great white serpent etched on the sword's guard and the eight-pronged star gilded on the pommel. You don't notice them until now. 

Brother wasn't home very often and that meant the sword wasn't around much for you to examine at your leisure.

You were wearing a luxurious yukata in your favourite colour with little purple bush-clovers as a pattern. Bush-clovers are your clan's representative flower, so you deem it was appropriate to wear as a member of the Yamanaka clan.

Mother was quite reluctant to attend, giving the excuse that she 'didn't like the hustle and bustle of a loud and noisy celebration'. She has used other variations of this excuse in the past so you asked Brother instead.

You stand within the throng of people watching the procession approaching the gates of the Nara compound. There are many people in yukata and haori, and you spot a couple of them were wearing their corresponding clan's traditional clothing.

The atmosphere is festive and the night sky is already lit by a couple of firecrackers. Jingles of the kagurasuzu and the reverberating beats of the taiko drum fill the air in a harmonious symphony. It is loud and you could feel the sound of each beat vibrating through your body. It is almost hypnotic, and it definitely helped make the mood.

As the procession reaches the final stages, you caught sight of a very familiar black-haired, ponytailed boy dressed in the traditional clothing of his clan, waving his hands and dancing to the likeness of a deer among the others who were doing the same.

You greet him with a shit-eating grin on your face when you caught his eye. You imitate the move that he was doing and gave him a thumbs up with a dramatic flourish. This is totally going to embarrass him.

Shikamaru sticks his tongue out, made a face and mouthed some words at you before leaping into the air with grace as part of his dance.

You giggle. You didn't need to know how to lip read to know what he had said to you.

The dance wasn't funny or silly at all. It was beautiful. Ethereal even. You only tease him because his reactions amused you.

The procession comes to an end, and the festival finally begins.

Lanterns are everywhere on the main road and various vendors advertising loudly for their goods. You saw a couple of vendors selling candy apples and other sweets further away.

You haven't seen Ino and Choji yet but you know they are around. Ino is probably running the flower stall with Father, and some other members of the clan, and Choji was probably running a small Yakiniku booth at the end of the road with his.

Brother slips his fingers into yours and leads you down the road towards the sweets. His hand are large. Much bigger than your own by at least three-fold. He makes you feel warm and safe.

You look up at him to observe his profile. You think he is subjectively handsome but maybe others think otherwise. He has narrow eyes that were the colour of amber under the afternoon sun and a slim but prominent jawline. He usually wore his hair short. The snowy streaks on the tips of his hair were now reaching his scalp.

It wasn't there before. How long has it been since it got that bad? When did it start showin-

You break your gaze and blink when Brother runs a finger over your knuckles.

"What are you looking at, little mouse? " He says with a hint of a lilt in his voice, his eyes glittering half-moons as he looks at you, " Your brother too handsome for you?"

You shelf your concern away and shake his hand, hard, throwing him off-balance. He laughs and so do you. You felt pleased that he was enjoying himself.

You feel that he plays the part of a friend, a confidant, a mother, a father, a mentor and a brother. Sometimes a mixture of the above and sometimes all at once. He basically raised you. Between a mother who is never home long enough for you to make a parental connection to and a father who never has time to talk or to check up on how your lessons were going, never giving you the time of day when you try to talk to him, brother is the only one who cares enough to be all those things for you

But today he's playing the part of a brother. And you're happy with that since he's enjoying himself.

Brother halts to a sudden stop when you bump into someone else.

"Oh, it's you." 

You narrow your eyes and give the person who spoke the stink eye. Sasuke clearly sounds like he is annoyed by the sight of you.

Of course it's your luck to bump into the person you consider your rival today.

Brother smiles and lifts up his other arm to wave at the person beside the younger Uchiha, " Didn't expect to see you here with your brother, Itachi-kun."

Ah, so he knew Sasuke and his brother then.

"Hakunetsu-san, what a surprise. " A modest voice comes out from the older Uchiha as he returns Brother's smile with his own.

He looks like Sasuke, but with a hint of visible tear lines. His hair was in a low ponytail and he had a parted fringe. Brother's features were more masculine than his. But his eyes. His eyes reminds you of the dark sky after the setting sun. Black, like the sky when the moon rises. 

His eyes pierces you like how his smile pierces your heart. Your instinct tells you that he is a dangerous man. A dangerous man with pretty, pretty eyes.

And maybe you have a crush on him.

You stare at his general direction with a vacant look as Brother exchanges pleasantries with him and some other words.

Sasuke just looks at the ground with discernible impatience as he held onto Itachi's hand. He doesn't get that much time with his brother so he just wants to just move on already.

" That's fine, we can look after her when you're away. The least I can do for a senpai. " Itachi says, still smiling.

" You're doing me a big favor! Thanks. You'll see her in a couple of days." Brother then gives your hand a few squeezes, "Say 'thank you' to Itachi-nii will you?"

You and Sasuke share the same wide-eyed look. No. No. NO!

"T-th-thank you, Itachi-nii, " You stumble on your words and you sport an embarrassed look on your face as your cheeks turn pink.

The younger Uchiha boy frowns and aims a kick at your leg when the older boys weren't watching. He misses.

Itachi directs a kind smile at you, "It was nice meeting you. We'll see you in a few days."

You feel your heartbeat quicken for a second.

You also don't forget to give Sasuke a nice, fat finger when Itachi looks away. Brother chuckles under his breath when he sees your hand making rude gestures to his colleague's little brother from the corner of his eye. The offended look on Sasuke's face almost makes you forget how childishly your brother had treated you.

Four of you say your goodbyes and walked toward opposite directions.

The bad mood that Sasuke put you in made you want to go find Shikamaru. You tell Brother that you'd be right back and you dash as fast as you could to the Nara's main house. You are confident that the Nara boy would be there, hiding from the other festival attendees after the earlier incident.

As you whiz down the road, you spot a shimmer of white antlers behind some bushes from the corner of your eyes. 

You blink, but it was gone before you could make sure you saw what you did.

[dimenovelsfromoblivion]

The Chaplain

8:15 A.M. Local time if the sun wasn’t out yet then it wasn’t coming back, at least not in this lifetime. The distant cities were mass nuclear funeral pyre that immolated the sky. The global inferno was cremating the human species and would burn as long as it there was anything to consume.

The soldiers had the benefit of being handed orders to carry out a post apocalyptic contingency plan like it was a living will.  They received the order to disperse, packed up,  and sped away with a mushroom cloud in the rearview mirror.  They followed the heat signature of a drone like it was the north star that was guiding them to an undisclosed location. No matter how far they pushed on, they could find nowhere that wasn’t under the sackcloth sky.

Army chaplain Reverand Adams second masters was in psychology. His job not only outlived civilized life it was the busiest he had been at any point in his fifteen-year career. The end of the world precipitated a crisis in faith for a lot of men in the battalion. Even the GIs who just barely three days prior hadn’t given God much thought came to the Reverend looking for a word of solace, and for someone steady for them to hold onto during their quickly dwindling hours on earth.

For awhile soldering had managed to let them keep one foot in a life they wanted desperately to believe wasn't gone forever. The intense sense of purpose that distracted their minds from living dreams of all the ways their loved ones surely died.

When soldiers came to him looking for a way to deal with the grief of personal loss Adams was relatively well prepared for that. Active duty required the grieving process be expedient. Some of them just seemed to fade away. They were like breathing corpses. Living bodies with no one behind their vacant eyes. It’s a way out the mind takes when death would be preferable to the pain of existence.

But there were many minds where the truth was a growing fissure tearing through their sanity.  They watched the blizzard of ash with unblinking eyes and fell deeper and deeper inside themselves until they weren’t much more present than the catatonics. Unfortunately for military planners, nuclear apocalypse could be something that caused instant and irreversible trauma. It also left Adams in a crisis where he was torn between the Reverend and the officer. By his assessment, it looked a lot like the end of days, but Armageddon was bad for morale, and that was just something he couldn’t preach to the troops. It had occurred to him that he might have just witnessed the events foretold in revelations and he might not have been selected to join Christ in heaven and had been along with everyone else who didn’t make the grade condemned to a short lived atomic hell before being swallowed up the oblivion at the end of the time

Sometimes the soldiers that came to see him would have these exact questions, and this was where Adams had the fewest answers. Was there no God or had God condemned them to hell?

“I don’t think we could say what we saw was the end of the world necessarily,” Adams said trying to sound gently authoritative.

“Why not?” the young private asked visibly frustrated.

“Where do you think we are where do you think this is heading?” the young private asked indignantly.

Adams stood up “That wasn't Armageddon,” he said with some derision. “That was just a limited nuclear exchange!” He said throwing up his hands. “Don’t worry soldier God has kept you alive to continue serving him do you understand?”

The private didn’t answer. There was a sharp knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Adams replied happy to be relieved of the conversation.

The door opened, and an MP filled the frame. Major Adams, General Rurcheck requests your presence just as soon as you have fulfilled your duties as a spiritual anchor, sir!” The MP barked. Adams quickly dismissed the private and promised to resume the conversation another time.

“The MP detail escorted Adams to a humvee that drove up an isolated road perpendicular to their camp. The lonely stretch of country road was surrounded by boundless fields of wheat wilted by the cold touch of nuclear winter. A blizzard of ash fell from the sky and accumulated on the ground like snow. The darkness had thickened since he’d last seen it. Besides the pale headlights that were suffocated by the blackness, the only light was a distant blood orange glowing at the edge of space and drowning out the sun and the stars. Adams was lead to a humvee waiting just a few yards a head. The MP opened the rear passenger's side door. LT. General Rurcheck was sitting behind the driver’s seat with a bible in his lap.

Adams soluted Rurcheck returned the gesture

“C'mon in,” he said with a friendly smile.

“Yes sir,” Adams said as he climbed into the back seat.

“At ease,” Rurcheck said.

“I’m going to speak openly and frankly about some things, and I hope you’ll do the same,”  Rurcheck said.

“Yes sir,” Adams nodded.

“Do you believe in the gospel?” The general asked holding up his bible.

Adams was stunned by the question. “I am ordained sir,” he replied.

“Fine, but when you read this book do you read a collection of anecdotes about a philosophical approach to life or are you reading actual accounts of things that have happened and things that are yet to come?”

“Well, Jesus often used parables to convey his message…”

“I’m not talking about that,” Rurcheck interrupted.

“I mean Genesis, the garden, the flood the angles breaking the seals and unleashing fire and brim stone.

“Is that what you think is happening, sir?” Adams asked.

“Now is not the time to pull the crap you learned in your psych courses Chaplain,” Rurcheck said sharply.  “Do you believe there is no other truth besides what is written on these pages?”

“Yes, I do,” said Adams

“Good I’m glad we’re on the same page then,” said Rurcheck.

Adams was relieved he’d apparently answered right.

“I was re reading revelations, and at first I was disturbed that I hadn’t ascended into heaven. Cause aren’t the righteous supposed to be raptured? I realized though the events described here precede the creation of God’s new kingdom. He’s coming here we’re not going to him. That’s why I called you here today God has given me a mission, and you’re a vital part of it.” Rurcheck explained.

“What does God want us to do?” Adams asked.

“Isn’t it obvious Chaplain? It’s up to restore order and start laying the foundation for his new kingdom. This is just a time of purification it's up to us to finish his work.”

Adams followed Rurcheck and his escort of MPs into the field. There was a group of shadows stretching out from around the ghostly white UV light of a battery powered lantern. Adams stopped when he saw five men on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs.

“Thes are the first infidels we will purge from the new kingdom,” announced Rurcheck. “Two Jews, a follower of Mohammad, and a Hindi. I need you to give them their last rites.

Adams could hear the frightened men whimpering under their hoods.

“Sir with all due respect…”

“What do you think we should tell Jesus Major? Say sorry they refused to believe in you and I didn’t really care. Are we cool?” Sneered Rurcheck “This is revelations, the end of days and the final judgment of all mankind I don’t think Christ is going to be willing to deal with that bullshit do you, Chaplain?”

Adams didn’t answer. He was surrounded by Rurcheck’s disciples, and they were willing to kill for him and didn’t seem to know that he was a Methodist and the last rites are a Catholic tradition.  Adams could either refuse to be part of the inquisition on moral grounds and end up donning a hood of his own. He didn’t know how the ritual was exactly supposed to proceed so Adams did the only thing he could think to do and started reciting the Lord's prayer;

“Our father who art in heaven. Hollowed by thy name,”

Rurcheck joined, and soon the crowd of executioners was reciting the prayer in unison. The heathens were shot in the back of the head at point blank range and dropped into a shallow grave. Watching the faceless men fall into the dirt put things into perspective. The world had ended and whether it was by the hand of God or not didn’t matter. He was nowhere to be found and just as it had been before the nuclear rapture lost men found still gave themselves over to demented personalities who are always there when God is nowhere to be found.