#and I still have him to this day! dandelion the bear

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

-

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

-

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

[msmorningstaarr]

let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

ao3 | masterlist

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;

a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.

His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.

“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.

“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.

“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.

“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.

“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.

“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.

“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”

The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.

“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.

Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”

“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.

“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”

“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.

“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.

“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.

“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.

“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”

“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.

“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.

“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.

“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.

You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.

“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.

“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.

“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”

“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.

By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.

“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”

You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.

“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.

“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.

You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.

As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.

When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.

“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.

“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.

“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.

The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.

“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.

The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.

“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.

“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.

With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.

Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.

“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.

Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."

And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."

#fanfic asoiaf #asoiaf fanfiction #ao3 #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #house lannister #house targaryen #rhaegar targaryen #jaime lannister #jaime x reader #targaryen x lannister #targaryen oc #targaryen reader #jaime lannister fanfic #lannister #cersei lannister #tywin lannister #asoiaf fanfic #game of thrones fic #game of thrones smut

[yandere-wishes]

♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢 ♡⠀

♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢 ♡⠀

Hot Take: Swan Lake (But make it Yancore)

Act 1 Scene 1

But has anyone ever thought about the misery that lies concealed beneath the waves of Swan Lake? A love that's molded over tenfold, yet still continues to rot?

Has anyone ever thought about how in love Baron von Rothbart must have been? How desperate he was to gain Odette's adoration that he sentenced her to his own prison? None shall have her, should he be unable to possess her. It's a promise he makes in a kiss of smoke and stardust. 

Rothbart is a creature sewn of flames and feathers. Carved from abomination and power. Strong and weak all in the same breath. Yet ultimately a prisoner too, just like his dear Odette. Rothbart's bones are his glided cage, his own powers his jailer. He knows banishment and imprisonment as if they were his architects. He recognizes isolation like the kiss of a lost lover. He's lord of the swans, the owls, the crows, the birds, he's the lord of everything except Odette's heart. 

So he curses her. Not out of malice, never malice, but out of love, devotion. Maybe, just maybe if she could bear his burden. she too would come to understand. He curses her with his likeness. Curses her with a lore and a crown and everything he has always had. He turns her into something only he could love. 

And at the end of the day, it works too...

Act 1 Scene 2

Poor Odette, poor sweet Odette. Everyone knows of her tragedy, her curse, her death. Yet has anyone ever seen the sorrow that resides within her brittle bones? 

Half swan, Half human. Yet never belonging to either world.

No one's ever thought of how she's felt throughout these years. The way the feathers stick out of her flesh even when she's human again. The way her voice imitates the call of a swan, every second syllable emphasized.

Even the full moon can not fully return that which Rothbart stole. 

Oh, Rothbart. Even his name sends waves of hate throughout her body. 

There's resentment in her bones. Hate too deep and passionate for words

What is this called again? Obsession, abhorrence, loathing?

Yet even with this spirited hate, all she can do is wait, wither away until imposible love finds her. 

But when Siegfried finds her that's when the world really starts to fall apart. Because he's a prince, cold yet lovable. Soft like dandelions and as precious as the lilypads that infest the pond. 

He's everything she's ever wanted.

And yet...

There's this leap in logic whenever he's concerned. He can't understand the pain she's been through. He'll never truly comprehend the weight of the curse. How suffocating its invisible shackles are, how deteriorated her mind has become. 

Siegfried is a prince in every definition of the word... 

But Siegfried can't understand the horrors she bears in her heart. The nightmares that never seize and the burden of living between worlds.

So maybe, just maybe that's why she throws herself into Rothbart's arms one dreadful night. Because for all his countless flaws Rothbart can -at the very least- comprehend her anguish. Who better to understand the burden of a curse than its caster? Then the one born with the same spell in his veins. 

The curse is straightforward "a spell broken only once you are loved by someone who has never loved before." 

Has Rothbart ever truly loved someone? Should she try to gain his love? maybe she's had it this whole time...Maybe she's also loved him this whole time...

Or maybe she's grown addicted to the sting of his teeth along her jugular and his bruising grip on her hips when they pirouette. Maybe there's a form of deification in the burn marks his feathers leave across her skin. A silent "I Love You" too fragile to be spoken. 

There's something wrong with his kisses - they burn like a thousand hells and leave an aftertaste akin to poison- there's something wrong with the way her name falls from his lips. 

There's something wrong with him...

So why is she starting to want him?

Maybe it's the trauma he's spilled into her lungs. Or how easily he makes the nightmares go away. Maybe it's the palliative sensation as he caresses all her flaws, kissing them as if they were holy. Maybe it's because whether swan or human she knows he'll love her. He'll understand. 

How she wishes sweet Siegfried could do the same...

Act 2 scene 1 

Odile chokes on night air and stardust. Bursting at the seams to be seen. She can't remember a time when she's been anything but darkness. Anything but a second thought. 

She was born with feathers and a body meant to endure. Her mother, the dark arts. Her father, the lord of all who fly. She is more creature than human. A testament to the dark. 

So what if she grew up spoiled? With every luxury thrown at her feet. It all means very little when you've never known the touch of another soul. When isolation has been your sole companion from the moment you emerged from your egg. 

There's darkness within her that her father nourishes. Yet not even he can provide her with mitigation, camaraderie, happiness. 

So maybe, just maybe that's why when she sees the prince for the first time. The world illuminates. She's sent to seduce him. To claim another victory for her father. But she positively melts when she feels his warm hands on her skin. The smile aimed at her is brighter than every ray of the sun.

If it's merely a deceit, then why does her heart pound like a caged bird among her ribs? Why does her blood flow to her cheeks upon seeing his smile? Why oh why does she feel this way, this need? To make him hers.

The black swan falls for the prince even if it's only meant to be a ploy, a ruse, another cruel game orchestrated by the wicked baron. How painful it must be to love for the first time and know it can only end in woe. How painful it must be to rot in endless heartache. 

How she wishes to kiss him, just once. As he holds her hand and dances with her in front of a royal crowd. His eyes shine with an adoration she's never seen before. Is this love? Is this what she's been robbed of her whole life?

How she dies a thousand deaths when Siegfried utters Odette's name. 

What she wouldn't sacrifice to hear him call her name instead...

Act 2 Scene 2

Imagine the black swan and the white swan actually get a chance to meet away from preying eyes and endless expectations. Imagine they understand each other's pain like two dying stars. 

There's a lake in a forest where dreams go to die. A sparkling oasis where curses run ramped. In the glow of a lonely moon, Odette sits by the lake. Watching her fellow prisoners dance the night away. 

Her heartache is unbearable tonight, she'll deem it a miracle should she see sunrise. Odile collapses next to her, bathing in her loneliness. A shade of grey encompasses the two of them, 

They're too tired to hate. Too tired to fight. For tonight they are both just lost souls looking for the light.  

Imagine the white swan and the black swan actually understand each other. 

One cursed to be a swan. The other born into its likeness. 

"I want to die," Odette mutters her tone is all burdon and pain. 

"Death would be too easy, dear princess. We were both made to suffer" Odile replies, stating the only fact she's still sure of. 

Odette stands, a queen with no crown. Her eyes staring at her flock of swans. She outstretches her hand and beckons Odile for a dance. Just two birds trapped within the same aviary.

Odile's hand fits perfectly in Odette's. Fingers entwined as if slipping into each other's souls. Two juxtapositions, dancing as if they were one. Each step mirroring the other. 

Every jete, every arabesque, every graceful move, further entwines their fate. Guiding them to an answer, a clarification neither knew existed. 

The younger swans gather around them. Embracing them. Odette and Odile were created for this world. Both doomed by Rothbart and revered by Siegfried. Stronger together.

Two birds of a feather, who must die together... 

Final Act

Imagine the black swan and the white swan decide to die together. Standing at the edge of the lake. Hands crossed, holding each other. Legs moving in a thousand tiny Bourrees. Siegfried and Rothbart cry out, trying to reach them. It's futile, the two swans have made their choice. The waves below beckon. 

Odette and Odile, know that together no one will ever hurt them again. 

Imagine sacrificing love in its entirety to ensure the safety of the other swans, of each other. Imagine accepting the curse, believing that one must embrace it to be able to live a prosperous life. The two swans fall together, a double suicide, an act of devotion. 

Maybe just maybe the world will finally learn how devoted and mercurial a maiden's heart truly is. 

Before the Prince and Baron can shed their tears, a creature emerges from the lake. A single swan made up of halves. A testament to both princesses. A queen in its entirety. Two wings of black and white hang from her shoulder blades. A crown of white and black adorned her head. There is no longer an Odette, a cursed girl awaiting love. There is no longer an Odile a baroness of evil. There is only the swan queen. 

And she will make the world bow. 

tags: @average-yandere-enjoyer @vereya @coral-relevium @overthinkingit56

#swan lake #odette #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #ballet #ballet aesthetic #balletcore #coquette #character study #writing prompts #genshin impact #twisted wonderland #furina #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact au #twisted wonderland au #barbie swan lake #yandere neuvillette #yandere malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #wriothesley #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #yandere furina #furina x reader #yandere childe #childe x reader

[annmarcus63]

I've always love the idea of game Geralt x series Jaskier.

Here's an idea. While training, Ciri's powers went out of control sending Game!Geralt to the Series!The witcher universe. Game Geralt meets Jaskier and Geralt. The pair agree to help him get to Kaer Morhen, since when Ciri comes looking for him, she would look there first.  Here's a soulmate story, a thread with two ends. Geralt doesn't want him, but someone else might.

"Are there ....soulmates...in your world?" They are sitting in front of a small bonfire where a boar leg is getting cooked. The sunset shimmer has blue and purple shades that rain on them. The Geralt from another universe (Jaskier calls him BeardGeralt and BeardGeralt likes it cause it sounds like bear, like a...pet name) tilts his head towards him, showing he has his entire attention.

"I don’t think so."

“Oh” BeardGeralt smiles, his handsome face lighting with barely concealed fondness that shows every time they talk in private. His Geralt, the real Geralt, is currently brushing off Roach trying to appear as if he's not listening to their conversation. "Disappointed, are you?" Jaskier snorts.

"No really. Actually I'm relieved my counterpart doesn't have one, it wouldn't be fair, to me I mean."

"Then you'll be glad to know he's goddamn miserable. Couldn't catch a single fly." Jaskier's face lights up like a child on their name day. "Egotistical and malicious. You share those with Dandelion" adds BeardGeralt without a trace of judgment or anger, only amusement.

"But more handsome" says Jaskier with a wink, BeardGeralt gives him an appreciative look, a slight smile hidden under his beard. Jaskier has been feeling this tension between them. Not entirely sexual per se but more, something mysterious that's calling them. He has always flirt with his Geralt but he has never responded, has never been interested, but It's not the same with BeardGeralt and it feels nice, to be wanted for once, for more than a quick fuck. He must also admit that it is nice to hold the interest of one Geralt, even if it's not his, his soulmate. It shows him in a way that destiny wasn't wrong with them, that Jaskier could have been wanted by his soulmate, at least in another universe. That they could have been happy together. 

"He's happy. He's with Priscilla" BeardGeralt says calmly, looking at the fire briefly. Jaskier tries to remember if he has known a Priscilla, he hasn't.

“Bastard” Jaskier throws his arms in the air in melodramatic surrender. He's not upset, not really, he's glad his duplicate from this other universe in which soulmates don’t exist is happy, but that doesn't make him any less of a lucky bastard. After all his biggest competition has always been himself, this Dandelion is him, so, yeah it feels like a competition. One that Jaskier is losing. 

Jaskier is so immersed in his own reasoning that he gets caught up when BeardGeralt asks in a cautious voice "Where's yours?"

"My what?"

“Soulmate” And that's the thing, isn't it? He has a soulmate and a mark on his forearm to prove it and that soulmate is, in fact, a few meters from them tending to his horse.

There must be something in his expression, a dull compliance that has woven, somehow, on his heart (and people says the eyes are the windows of the heart), because the other Geralt dawns on the fact that Geralt from this world is Jaskier's soulmate. 

And suddenly his Geralt is there, in front of them whelling the leg above the fire "It's burning" he growls looking up and meeting BeardGeralt’s eyes. Cat-like eyes, they both have beautiful eyes, they're the same and so unique at the same time, apart from each other. His Geralt is younger, he has a soul of one who still hasn't found how to live with pain and self-hatred. BeardGeralt is older, the kind of good wine older, he has a soul of one who has learned to live with all of it, he’s wiser and is full of quiet regret.

The witchers are speaking with their eyes, two predators speaking the same language. They stop the staring contest after a few seconds. The other Geralt doesn't ask again and Jaskier is relieved. Later, when the moon is glowing in the sky and they're trying to sleep, Jaskier thinks of how warm BeardGeralt feels next to him, it's cold so they're sleeping close to each other and wonders what it would be to be loved by him.

I'm posting this here again with small changes

If you want to read more let me know

love u

#the witcher #geraskier #the witcher 3 #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #geralt x jaskier #What if BeardGeralt has a dandelion on his body #BeradGeralt thinks Jaskier is so extravagant and flamboyant and ridiculous and #chilsdish and generous and caring and beautiful and perfect and oh my gad is he in love? #SeriesGeralt is jealous as fuck #Jaskier deserves love

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ３ － Ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ

－ Dandelions - 1610!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which Miles makes a wish on a dandelion flower he finds peeking out from the schools garden.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

Miles remembers the white puffy flowers he’d often see peeking out from the sidewalks in his neighborhood. He remembers the silly myth his parents told him at that tender age, where mystic and wonder was still the core of his innocence. Blow onto a dandelion and make a wish, and it’ll come true so long as you have faith in it.

He’d made many dandelion wishes in his childhood, but this one had to have been the silliest amongst them. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing; the fact that he was making a wish on a dandelion that seemed to survive the winter cold and be the first sign of spring to grace Visions Academy, or the fact that what he had wished for was among the most childish of things he’d ever done.

Yet, here he was, bent down at the knees in front of the school garden, holding the intact dandelion in his hand, twisting it around and examining it, the imagery of his crush sneaking into his mind as he did so. 

It was childish, silly, downright embarrassing what he had wished for, and yet, he still did it. The evidence being the now empty dandelion head and the pieces of white wisp flowing into the cool spring breeze. Perhaps there was an inkling of childish hope in him that wondered if such a wish would come true - if his wish for his crush to notice him would actually come to fruition if he’d manifested the little bit of childhood magic he held onto for times like these, where hope was diminishing and he had no other avenues to turn to.

He didn’t believe it would work. He discarded the empty stem and made his way back to his dorm room afterwards, not thinking much of the subject. His evening was spent doing homework and arguing with Ganke on how to beat the Tetris level he was stuck on. Before the night was over, Miles had forgotten about the dandelion and the wish he made.

Then, the next day, as he was exiting his third period, he was reminded of it when he saw you approach him. It crept up on him like a spider on a wall, the realization coming after a conversation was sparked between the two of you.

“You’re Miles, right? From World History?” You said, and the boy has to remind himself what speaking is and how to do so, his voice coming out high-pitched from his anxiety.

“Y-yeah, yep! That’s me!”

“I knew you looked familiar!” You said with a smile, and Miles feels like he should be dreaming, but the weakness in his knees lets him know he is well awake and struggling against everything in the universe to not make a fool of himself. 

“I know you’re a super science wiz,” you begin, “I’m ashamed to say I’m not as good as most of the kids here are when it comes to STEM.” What? You have a flaw? Impossible, he thinks, as he watches you shift your weight, a hint of nervousness in your voice. “Maybe I can tutor you in history sometime, if you’re willing to give me some pointers for my science class?”

There is nothing in the world that would get Miles to trust his voice after such an encounter; so he nods with a confirming hum to your proposal, and that seems to satisfy you enough, as a triumphant smile graces your lips.

“Great!” You chime, “See you around, Miles!”

The second you turn your back to leave, Miles Morales becomes a puddle of overwhelming emotions, heart thumping like a hammer against a wall, his school uniform suddenly becoming too hot to bear. He just talked to his crush, and didn’t make a complete fool of himself. Maybe that wish was worth something after all.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#flowersinbloom🏵 #black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #marvel spiderman #spiderman marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x black!reader #spiderman itsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman miles morales #miles morales spider man #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #1610 miles x reader #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader

[lonely-lost-soul]

Dawn over the Horizon

(Diluc x Bartender Reader) MINOR DNI

Angel’s Share was a beautiful bar owned by one of the fiercest men in Mondstadt, Diluc Ragnvindr. However, many of the inhabitants of Mondstadt dubbed the true owner of the bar (y/n), completely denying that Diluc owned the bar. Not because you were a frequent patron or a drunkard but because you were one of the oldest bartenders and just so happened to be Mondstadt’s biggest fan. Since Diluc had decided to take some time away from the city to go on a needed quest with Aether, he had placed you in charge of taking care of his creation. You grinned fondly at Venti, a bard and a regular at the bar, who was currently face down on the counter.

“Please, just one more round! It’ll be on me!” 

“One, we both know you can’t afford it, and two, I shouldn’t have let you have one drink, let alone three, considering what your tab looks like,” You scolded, ruffling his hair as he whined softly, looking up at you with his sweet baby blues, you remained unphased. “I’ll get you a blanket and water and set you at one of the tables,” You said softly, reaching under the bar to grab the blanket you made specifically for the bard. “Before Diluc kills me,” your voice entered a soft, teasing tone as you led Venti to one of the chairs in the back and wrapped him with a teal and white knitted blanket. He whined about not needing to be babied before promptly falling asleep, holding a half-empty bottle of dandelion wine like a teddy bear. You let him rest as you locked the door and began to officially clean up for the night, stacking the chairs not occupied by a slumbering bard and mopping up the floor. All tasks you hated doing, but they were all necessary to ensure the cleanliness standard Diluc held. You jumped, hearing the bell chime, your grip tightening on your mop. You could’ve sworn you locked the door. The dagger you carry around for protection was left uselessly under the bar, “We’re closed-”

“It’s still messy in here. I hope you haven’t done the closing duties yet, Spitfire.” 

“Diluc,” You breathed a sigh of relief, turning to your “boss” with a small smile, “Welcome back home.” When you greeted him, he scanned the bar for typical patrons before his walls broke. You watched the tension drain from his shoulders; his steely eyes melted into the simmering warmth he reserved for you. Diluc crossed the bar floor in only a few broad steps and wrapped you in his arms. You laughed against his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. He mumbled something into the crown of your head, and you moved to look up at him, “What was that?”

“I’ve missed you.” Your heart melted at the genuine love in his tone, 

“I’ve missed you too, Firebrand.” His large hands rested gently on your hips as he moved his forehead to your shoulder. Being a pyro vision holder, he always ran on the warmer side, while his brother ran colder. You always joked that he was your heater, especially on the colder days in Mondstadt; the constant breeze always made it feel colder than it was. His knuckles moved to graze at your side, sliding slowly under your dress shirt, causing you to hum and lean into him. “Hm…’luc… I’m still at work, you know.” 

“We’re closed. The boss won’t mind.” His voice was teasing as he nipped softly at the flesh on your neck. 

“Oh? Do you know him? I’ve never met the man himself.” You felt him chuckle, his chest vibrating against your back. 

“Believe it or not, I’m the owner, and I think it’s okay for you to slack off.” 

“You? No way you seem too old to run a bar.” 

He barked a sound that was a mix between a huff and a scoff, “Old? Watch your tongue, Spitfire.”

“Yeah, old,” you prodded, “taking advantage of your bartender who’s meek and helpless and wasn’t blessed with a big scary pyro vision.”

“Meek and helpless, my ass. You keep a dagger under the bar, and I’ve personally seen you kick people stronger than me out of the bar.” 

“You spying on me, Mr. Ragnvindr?” You gasped in mock surprise and could practically feel him rolling his eyes at the comment. “How scandalous of you,” You let out a squeak, feeling his teeth bite at your neck, 

“Stop being a brat.” He commanded his tone stern and commanding; the authority in his voice warmed you from the inside out, “I haven’t been gone for that long. Did you forget your place in such a short time?” His other hand came to cup your jaw, his fingers drumming against your cheek tauntingly, challenging you to say something he disapproved and you loved how it made you squirm with need. “I wanted to be sweet to you, pamper you since I’ve been gone. But your sharp tongue makes me want to rethink that plan,” You felt the hand on your hip travel higher until your shirt rested just above your breasts. “Oh, that’s new,” He traces his gloved fingers over the red lace of your bra, causing you to shiver as his palm ghosted over your nipples. Your breathing hitched as your eyes fluttered back in your skill, and Diluc hummed pleasantly against your neck, “I like it. Did you have them made just for me?”

“Yes.” You whimpered, feeling his hand dip below the cups and roll your pert nipple between his fingers, causing you to whine out his name, “Only for you.” 

“That’s my good girl,” his lips kissed your neck too tenderly as your legs rubbed together with need. You felt his hand on your breast grow warm, causing you to moan as he sucked marks into the skin on your neck. You let out a small yelp as his other hand skillfully unbuttoned your pants and slipped beneath your matching underwear. “That’s my girl. Make some noise for me,” his pointer finger found your clit with the precision of a man who knew your body like he knew how to wield his claymore. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as his finger skillfully teased the spot, causing you to slump against his chest,

“Diluc!” you whined, “Don’t tease me, put them inside. Wanna be full,” You looked up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed, looking destroyed by his simple touches. He hummed, his tongue sliding up your neck to nip at your ear,

“Not yet. You haven’t earned it. You’re going to need to beg.”

“That’s not fair!” 

“Is that backtalk I hear?” He pinched your bud between his two fingers, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You whimpered, needily shaking your head, causing your hair to bounce, and you heard him snicker in your ear. “Good girl. Get up on the bartop bitch,” he commanded, unbuttoning his shirt as you scrambled up on the counter, skillfully removing your top and sliding your pants down to your ankles. Diluc hummed, taking your chin between his fingers now that you were at eye level with him; he noted how blown out your pupils were and how you were practically buzzing with need and restless energy. “Look at you, practically drooling for me,” he purred, rubbing his thumb against the bottom of your lip; your eyes flickered down to see just how hard he was, just how pent up he was from your reactions. 

Pride swelled up in you as you took his thumb in your mouth, rolling it between your tongue, and his entire body shivered at the sensation. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard I'm gonna splinter the bartop-” Both of you heard glass shattering, and your blood froze in your veins. Both of your eyes darted to the sound, Dilucs’ claymore materializing in his hand, ready to defend your honor. 

“Don’t stop now; it was just getting good.” Venti slurred, still very drunk, if the wine bottle shattered at his feet was any indication. “Nice tits (y/n),” He winked, and your face turned red. Diluc snarled at the man throwing his coat over your body, 

“Venti. Out. Now.” 

“Can’t I join in the fun?” 

“OUT!"

#fanfiction #x reader #x you #x y/n #romance #fluff #reader insert #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader smut #smut #nsft writing #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut

[meidnightrain]

THIS LOVE - diluc

❝ tossing, turning, struggled through the night with someone new. baby, i could go on and on, on and on. ❞

summary: the dark-knight hero has always been known to keep a distance but he always ends up right by your side

warnings: reader is gn, slightly angsty(?), diluc backstory spoilers

notes: day 11! i can’t write diluc for the life of me so i took a rather different approach to this and focused on making it more poetic than dialogue based. i hope you like it!

taglist (open): @staretes , @rynnlvrs , @sentifua , @i-probably-sleep-too-much , @reilly34 , @qqingque , @akutasoda , @mhiieee , @starryshinyskies , @rintosae , @kazemiya , @pix-stuff

you remembered it like yesterday. the days like a blurred memory, gold tinted around its edges and the background noise like faded static.

loving diluc had been like clear blue waters of the ocean, the high tide of waves bringing the both of you together with such ferocity that you collided against one another. a love that was fragile but powerful at the same time, so pure that you found yourself emerging fresh and new every single time.

you had fallen for him when you were just kids, when he had picked up a dandelion by the gates of mondstadt’s heart during the windblume festival, embarrassed and whispering for you to make a wish. for he had been all you ever wished for, you realised as you clasped the flower in your hands, watching its seeds fly off into the breeze.

was that what love was supposed to feel like? restless and free, with ups and downs but something true that you’d know by heart? for this love had left a permanent mark on you, like his name had been tattooed on your skin for you to trace the words when you missed him. for this love glowed in the dark, never leaving the both of you in the darkness as you were each other’s light. or so you thought as time decided that this love would be put to the test.

he couldn’t have attachments, that was what diluc realised after his father had passed, the fear pushing his heart to beat faster. what if he had to lose you all because of him? he couldn’t live with your blood tainting his hands, embedded deep in his fingernails that he couldn’t scrub off. staining his hands forever and ever for he could never bear to wash away the last remaining mark you had left on him.

so, the skies grew darker and the currents swept him out like how they had brought him into your life. and he was gone, leaving you behind for your own protection. in silent screams, in wildest dreams, you never would have dreamed of this ever happening. that he would think that by breaking your heart, you would be safe, though you didn’t know how it killed him inside. your heart may have broken but his had shattered.

moving on had been hard, you both would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t think of the other. he was in every dandelion your eyes landed on to the point you kept some on your window-still, so that you would always wake up to the sun shining down on him. you were in the ocean waves he would always make sure to patrol by at night, the moonlight illuminating the water just as bright as your grin.

you would see him in dreams disguised as nightmares, feel his lips graze your cheek ever so slightly before he vanished into thin air. his smile a ghost, a figment of your imagination you would soon come to terms with as you fell to your knees and awoke in a cold sweat. feel nothing but the cracking of your newly-healed heart and the tears rolling down your cheeks that he would have once wiped away.

it had driven you mad, for this love was like the lanterns in the candelabras back at dawn winery. its light flickered for him and only him but he was still gone. and just when your grip on the last thing you ever owned was faltering, moments away from sinking into the depths of the ocean like a ship, he showed up just in time. and when you both looked at each other in the eye after so long, it all came down crashing.

it was the sudden ache in diluc’s chest, the inner voice and sleepless nights that had called out to him. all he ever wanted was to hear his name roll of your tongue, wanted for you to be the rock in his stormy sea, wanted for you to always be by his side. he had loved you when you were kids, he had loved you when you were teens and he would love you even if you were oceans apart. when you’re young, you always run whether it be from your problems or for an escape, and he had run away from you. but he would always come back to what he needed. and he needed you like how you needed him.

it was like the ocean you had always been mesmerised by ever since you were young. no matter how hard the waves receded, he would always come back to you and you would do the same.

this love was good for it was the sun shining down on you after you braved through the storm. this love was bad for it was like being swept out to sea, the waves pushing you down repeatedly, begging for you to drown. but this love that you had both tried to forget, tried to move on from, was now alive back from the dead and had brought you back together.

his hands had to let you go free but this love would always come back to him.

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#🕊️ - 1989 event #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #🪧 - event: 1989 #🗞️ - genshin impact fics

[swiftlark]

hey, it’s nothing it’s just… To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed. “No, don’t let go of me.” “She has no idea. The effect she can have.” “Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping.” “Because . . . because . . . she came here with me.” All of a sudden, I’m overwhelmed by the thought that Peeta may be already lost. And suddenly, I’m not thinking of Gale but of Peeta. Before I can stop myself, I call out Peeta’s name. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says. “I was worried about you.” Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don’t want him to stop and he doesn’t. He’s still stroking my hair when I fall asleep. “No,” he says. “You’re not risking your life for me.” “Why? You know why,” Peeta says. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. No one has held me like this in such a long time. “And right when your song ended, I knew — just like your mother — I was a goner.” For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy. “I remember everything about you,” says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.” “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now.” Because I’m so grateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. “You know I can’t,” Peeta says. And he goes on about how he loves me, what life would be without me. And now I know. It’s because you have no choice. I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms. and even while he lay in that mud bank, whispered my name in his sleep. I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” “I don’t know, I just . . . couldn’t bear the thought of . . . being without him.” “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn’t be fair on my part. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.

#everlark #re-reading: the hunger games #best love story of our time #i’m not even kidding #thg book 1 #book one everlark you will always be famous #thg #the hunger games #katniss x peeta #everlark quotes #book one quotes

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ nothing hurts like no you...

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FEAT... venti

SYNOPSIS... you and venti have been apart too long, and have both begun to lose faith, until you come across each other at angel’s share…

WARNINGS... injury, implied losing weight, low mental health, alcohol/drinking

with a clouded mind, you wandered the streets of mondstadt, the sky mimicking you as it blanketed the town in a sheet of warm grey. mondstadt isn't exactly big, and there are only so many paths to follow until you begin to recognise the pattern of the tile beneath your feet; the identical cracks in the stones engraved in your mind as you search desperately for something to focus on and calm your racing heart.

the gentle breeze brushes softly against your cheek, almost as if the wind itself was cupping your face in it's hands, caressing your cheeks ever-so-gently as you drag your feet along the cobble. or at least that's how you would've like it to be. instead, a strong gust of wind pushes against your back, forcing you forwards not-so-gently as you reach out to steady yourself on a nearby lamppost; the storm was coming, but not just any storm.

your beloved left with his lyre to sing his melodies to the wind, leaving you alone with your thoughts in your shared home. in truth, the two of you hadn't been getting along so well recently, fights became almost routine, subsequently leading to you spending more and more time in your own company; which you can't say you enjoyed. it had gotten to the point where you don't bother to return home anymore and spend your nights hidden away in the forest, relying on razor and his wolfen friends for protection. yes, it is important to have time for yourself, but you'd rather be sat in complete silence with diluc in angel's share than spend another second alone, which is why you find your surroundings completely changing as you stumble into the tavern. the warm lights and the low murmuring of the customers provides a sharp contrast to the dark, empty streets you'd just escaped from.

in the far corner, consumed by the shadow of the staircase, sits a somewhat familiar figure, seemingly drowning their sorrows in bottles of dandelion wine. they're hunched over the table they sit at, clutching the neck of the bottle as if it was their one and only grasp on reality, which as wild as it seems, it was.

this person, venti, is overwhelmed with the many thoughts parading in his head. the thought of you stranded, alone, afraid, while he's here, drinking embarrassing amounts of alcohol to hide himself from the guilt that haunts him. there's no way he could ever let you see him like this... (ironic, i know)

"venti?"

your soft, broken voice calls out, a sudden pounding in your chest become almost too loud to bear, the beating of your heart drumming in your ears. you haven't felt like this since they day the two of you first met.

you try to look away, but your eyes are fixated on him. the way he's slouched over, the way his clothes fit loosely on his slightly slimmer figure, the dull, tired look in his eyes as they meet yours. however, that dull expression disappears almost immediately as he recognises your features, replaced by a look of pure relief.

"[name]?"

his voice is coarse from not only drinking, but also from crying. though it seems like he has been doing absolutely nothing for weeks, his mind hasn't given him a single break. your heart aches as you watch the tears fall from his cheeks, though his face stays frozen, focusing on you; it doesn't take long for your own cheeks to be dampened by your salty tears.

the two of you stay completely still, the silence only becoming louder as you both hesitate to say a single word. you take a step forward, slow and uncertain, but a step nonetheless. each step brings a new found confidence, the shaking of your hands calming as you build up the courage to apologise.

"venti... venti i'm so sor-"

a familiar warmth embraces you as venti throws his arms around you, trembling as he sobs into your shoulder.

"[name]- windblume, i- i'm so... i'm so, so s- sorry... i've missed you, i-i've missed you so, so, much... nothing hurts like no you, [name]"

his shaky breathes and sniffles break his sentence into small, digestible sections, only making the feeling of your heart shattering more intense as you wrap your own arms around him. the two of you stand there, basking in eachother's embrace, both of you sniffling and sobbing together, therefore breaking the silence. there isn't anything in the world that could pull you away from him in this moment. it's felt like an eternity since you've been able to hold your beloved the way you do now. you missed it. you missed his soft, gently touch; you missed the way his head fits perfectly in the nook of your neck; you missed the way he always rubs small circles on your back when he hugs you; you missed the feeling of his heartbeat; but most of all, you missed him, and he missed you too.

"i'm sorry venti, i- it's been so long and i- ah, careful-"

you begin to apologise, only to be cut off by a sharp inhale and a wince of pain. worried, venti immediately stops rubbing your back and pulls away from you, firmingly holding you by your shoulders and scanning your scrunched up face.

"a- are you ok? what's wrong? [nickname]... [name] are you hurt?! shit- i-"

"no, no venti, i'm f- fine"

you were in fact, not fine. while practically living in the woods, you'd been attacked by a group of hilichurls, leaving you with a large gash on your back. razor had left to gather food or you after finding out you hadn't eaten, leaving you along by your campfire, your eyes fluttering as you found yourself drifting in and out of sleep. that's when it happened. just as you'd felt yourself finally relaxing, a sharp pain in your back made you jolt, eyes widened from the shock. of course, razor had rushed back after hearing your scream, preventing any further injuries.

"show me"

"what? venti i-"

"[name], show me"

"i-"

"please"

there's no winning against his stubbornness, a lesson you've learnt many times before; the genuine look of concern on his face just makes it that much harder to resist.

"ok, ok... can we- can we just go home first? please?"

"anything for you, windblume. let's stop by the statue of the seven first, ok? then we'll stay home all day and... catch up"

"i love you, v"

"i love you, [nickname]"

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

#genshin #genshin oneshot #genshin imagine #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x nb!reader #genshin x gn!reader #venti #venti x reader #venti x nb!reader #venti x gn!reader #venti angst #venti onshot #venti imagine #nb!reader #gn!reader #pov #fluff #.typingptera

[eleanor-bradstreet]

The Field: Back to Autumn (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: G - grief, character death Word count: 1.8k

Part 3: In a Week Masterpost

Author's Note: The last in a four-part series based on songs about fields/nature that I associate with Benedict. This finale is based on the song Back to Autumn by Tall Heights. Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this lifelong love story 💙

Decades later

The snow would not deter him. He had planned on going to see you and so he would. And he needed to bring flowers. Nothing too delicate. Something beautiful that wouldn’t wither immediately in the cold winds. There was always Clyvedon lavender in the storeroom - it would be perfect. He selected a fragrant bunch, pulled on his boots and wrapped himself in layers before stepping out into the snowglobe. The entire world was white and muffled into silence despite the wind that swirled the soft flakes around him. The only sounds were his own breath and the crunching of his footsteps. It was rare to get such a blanketing snowfall, but then again everything seemed strange and out of sorts these days. He moved slowly, a solitary figure dressed in black, picking his way across the blank grounds of Aubrey Hall. His knees creaked. A walk of this distance was hell on his arthritis and he probably needed a cane, which was something you had heckled him about. But he didn’t want to acknowledge his decrepitude, not yet, and he would keep making the journey to visit you, snow, rain or shine.

The tips of his fingers and nose had started to numb by the time he reached the field but he couldn’t be fussed to care. Being there set his mind on other things entirely. A lifetime of memories. The paintings, the wedding, the annual dandelion harvest for the estate’s wine production - a quirky cottage industry you had started which was happily carried on by the subsequent generation of Bridgertons. So much colorful life had played out on the field as if it were a stage. Now muted, the curtains drawn for the winter, it seemed unremarkable, indistinguishable from the others surrounding it. Except for one hallowed corner tucked by the treeline where there was a rise in the snow.

Taking a deep breath, he moved to stand before it. The joyful kaleidoscope of his memories in the field had been fractured when it also became the site of your grave. Then it had grown to be a bittersweet place of memorial. He coped by visiting you every two weeks without fail. He reasoned it was good exercise but he also found something curative in speaking to you, giving you updates on the family, his latest musings and frustrations. But that sense of peace had been threatened by recent events, the kaleidoscope at risk of shattering entirely. Because now he had to adapt to the sight of the new plot beside yours, the freshly turned earth mounded under a light cover of snow.

Anthony heaved a sigh that escaped in mist. He had known it would happen eventually but had never allowed himself to envision it. Selfishly he had hoped to pass first so that he wouldn’t have to bear witness. But Benedict had been so utterly bereft after losing you, moving through life like a walking wound, that it was clear he wouldn’t linger without you for very long. The illness that had marked your final months had drained him of energy. The only fuel he seemed to still possess was the power to love. Anthony knew that if the force of his love could have lengthened your years you would have lived forever, well beyond any of them. Benedict had managed for just over a year, physically depleting while his heart only seemed to grow larger and encompass all of the family that surrounded him. But none of them could mend the hole you had left and at last he had joined you, never waking from a nap in his studio, a half-finished portrait of your younger self before him. 

That was two weeks ago and now he had taken his designated spot beside you. When you had known you were facing the end, you and Benedict had requested Anthony’s permission to make the field your final resting place. Though his jaw clenched and his eyes grew haunted, he had immediately agreed. It had given you a degree of comfort in those final, painful days, knowing that you were headed for your favorite place. The irony managed to bring a smile to your face, that you would indeed lay in the field forever as you had imagined doing in such a macabre fashion years ago. You and Benedict had called a number of places home over your years together and had filled each of them with love, but no place was as dear to your hearts as the field and you knew that its private magic would be preserved by the Bridgerton family for generations to come. 

Anthony stared at the grave. He was no stranger to grief but it was a new experience to lose a sibling. He supposed he should be grateful that he had held onto them all for as long as he had. But Benedict had left a particular void in his wearying soul. He had not only lost a brother, he had lost his closest friend, his confidante, his advisor. The man with such a magnitude of compassion that it forced his own better nature to show itself. Now without his gentle guidance, Anthony clung to the scant consolation that his brother would always be on the grounds with him. He was grateful that they would be touching the same tracts of earth and he hoped that would help him to channel Benedict somehow, to feel his force in a way that would help him steady the helm of the family for the remainder of his days.

He had never been prone to sentimentality, had never seen any use in being wistful about the past. But as he stood alone in the chilling winds he wished for one thing. He wished he could go back in time to certain happy moments in the hopes that they would soothe the gnawing grief of his present. Any moment spent with you and Benedict would have comforted him, but there were some that stood out as the most vividly joyful. He recalled one autumn when the entire family had gathered at the house. With all of his siblings married, it was becoming something harder and harder to accomplish. But everyone was there with their spouses and children, as well as his mother and her new beau. Looking around at them all, he was overcome by a novel sense of peace, almost as if he had achieved a milestone and could now release some of his anxiety. But the moment was short-lived as he watched you back out of a conversation across the room and slip through the french doors to the terrace. Benedict, Kate and Phillip stared after you awkwardly before Benedict mumbled something and took off in another direction through the house. 

Anthony had been worried. It was unlike the two of you to look anything but blissful together and it stung a little that you had run off alone rather than come to him for help. Ever the unshakable leader, he had downplayed whatever was happening and guided everyone to happy distractions. But a fear had lingered. A fear that something was seriously wrong between you and Benedict. A fear that his sense of peace had been misplaced. It grew more insistent as the hours passed but was dispelled entirely when you and Benedict finally returned, glowing, with arms around each other. Your laughter and reassurance had calmed everyone and the family was made whole again. The entire Bridgerton clan gathered around a bright fire, drinks in hand with the children asleep upstairs. Every Bridgerton was entwined with their partner but none so tightly as you and Benedict. There was something reinvigorated in the way you looked at each other, a magnetism so evident that to doubt it felt akin to doubting gravity. It was then that Anthony’s heart settled, sighing contentedly as he wrapped an arm around Kate. His family was safe. His family was happy. And they had their whole lives ahead of them. He wanted to go back to that autumn.

Or if not that autumn, to another treasured day. The day of your and Benedict’s wedding, the first and only one he had officiated. He had been daunted by the request at first but saw it as an opportunity he could not waste to publicly ridicule Benedict. The details of the event were perhaps not to his taste, dressed down literally and figuratively as guests gathered in the field and you and Benedict traipsed in barefoot, the only ornamentation being the natural sea of dandelions and floral arrangements of lilac and lavender. He did his best to whittle you both to the quick, questioning why you had chosen such a starry-eyed sod for a husband, theorizing that you weren’t as clever as he had thought, and so forth until everyone was sore with laughter. But then as he stood between you both, his closest brother and one of his dearest friends, he understood what a great honor it was to join you together. He felt as if he were stitching you into the tapestry of his family. He allowed himself to be sincere in his wishes for your future and didn’t realize he was crying until you handed him your tissue which caused more good-natured laughter. It was a moment and a day he would never forget, gaining you as a sister and knowing for certain that his brother’s sensitive heart would be cared for without fail.

You had been married in May on a day so warm and colorful it seemed impossible that it had occurred in the same white wasteland where he now found himself. If he couldn’t travel to the past maybe he just needed to carry on until next May. Then he could visit you on your anniversary. He pledged that he would make an occasion of it and would bring brighter bouquets of flowers. But for now all he had was the lavender and he knew he needed to start making his way back to the house. The cold was sinking in and it was a long trek. 

He murmured a few sentences, news he thought you should know and sentiments to Benedict that he wished he had said before. He hovered over the marker, a single stone laid deep in the grass, inconspicuous but enduring. No names, no dates, just a stanza Benedict had written after you passed. Anthony kicked the snow away then bent to brush the words clear with a hand. He placed the lavender alongside and paused to read them as he had so many times before.

Of all the flowers in the field You alone were sweetest Of all the joys my life would know Your love would be the deepest

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #female reader #modern au #romance #grief

[countessaustelle]

Definition

: In which you do not condone Venti's detrimental drinking habits one bit. However, with the way he touches and showers you with ardent affection after every drinking sessions, you just can't help but to forgive his propensity.

And just like how you easily find reasons to forgive his flaws, he too finds it easy to love you under moonlit nights.

Venti/Reader (Romantic)

No pronouns are used in this ficlet. (Though there is the use of "beautiful" to describe the reader.)

Tags: kisses, established relationship, domestic fluff, midnight conversations, drunken conversations (venti), love confessions, words of affirmation, physical touch.

"You have no idea how much I love you."

You stare curiously at Venti who lays beside you. He is positioned on his side, fervorly gazing into your eyes, cheek puffed on the pillow.

His eyes are half-lidded, intoxicated in drowsiness and a barrel's worth of dandelion wine.

"Even I love you fails to convey how I truly feel at this point. For me to be so smitten, you must be love itself."

You try your best to obscure your smile—and your laugh. Ah, there he goes again.

He notices your struggle and turns into a laughing mess himself, covering his eyes with the back of his palm. You break, following suit with his laughter.

"Oh, come on! I was being honest." He looks at you accusingly.

"I know. You do this every time, Ven."

"How can I not?" he whines. "My mind doesn't let me rest for the night until I've ensured that I've said everything that needs to be said that day."

"But you do this every time you get drunk," you say. "And you're drunk about ninety percent of the time."

"Ten percent sobriety is a lot!"

"For a wine goblin like you."

He huffs through his nose, annoyed, but does not debate with you any further. Instead, he buries his face on your collarbone. His breaths feel warm on the skin.

His hand finds its way to your upper back, his fingers atop to frame your shoulder. You can't help but giggle at his drunken antics.

"Whatever you say, wine goblin lover," he mumbles. Then he remains motionless and silent for the longest time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick.

You think he's finally fallen asleep. How very Venti of him.

You attempt to rise from your bed to change his sleeping position to a more comfortable one, but you yelp as you are pulled back the moment you rise an inch.

He moves his face closer to your shoulder and plants a kiss. Oh, so he wasn't sleeping.

"Let's stay like this. Please bear with my drunken state a little longer, love."

You laugh again, devoid of prior playfulness and instead filled with adoration. "No matter how long you want me to stay, I will."

He stays still once again, aside from the rise and descent of his chest.

The curtains flutter with the outside wind, allowing the moonlight to peek through the window grilles.

The bedroom is entirely illuminated in silver and blue, from the photo frame that contains your wedding photo to the discarded pouch near the door that you could not keep due to how busy you were tending to your lover priorly.

Your gaze falls beyond the window towards the expanse of the night sky.

Is it just you, or do night skies always look brighter when your lover is beside you?

Venti opens his eyes to see your face basked in the moon, and he could have sworn all the wind left his lungs.

The first time Venti witnessed the moon in its full glory was when he was but a tiny spirit lost in the woods. He had yet to even understand the concept of beauty, nor did he have a clue on what the name of the mysterious glowing ball was.

and yet, as if it was nature to his soul—the way he was easily drawn to how the moon unleashed the acme of beauty in all things.

You are no exception. In truth, Venti thinks you are the most beautiful person to ever exist under the moonlight.

"You are so beautiful."

You turn back to him. His fingers tuck a stray hair to the back of your ear then let his palm rest on your cheek.

"The more we share eventide moments like this, the more I am inclined to believe I am not just in love with you anymore. You are love itself."

He slowly reduces the space between your faces until your noses touch in the proximity.

Heavens, how he could stare into your eyes and drown in them alone. That would make a merciful way to die.

"You have completely, irreversibly rewritten my definition of love."

He closes the space in-between and kisses you ever-so-gently. Venti's way of affection is an ardent procedure;

It is evident in the way he is gentle as he caresses your cheek, the way he lets out a soft moan when your hand feels the skin underneath his shirt, and the way he does not want to part from your lips, leaving you wanting more.

There are countless things he wishes he could say, before the imminent comes to take you away from him.

"My definition of love is the way your eyes reflect the moonlight. I'm holding you like this, and you're looking at me as if I'm the only person in this world."

"I think we should close the windows."

"My definition of love is the way my heart sunders into smithereens when tears fall on your face. You have been through so much, you cried alone too many times and no one even noticed."

"Haa... you're closer to it anyway, just shut it already."

"I wish I could have your pain, so then you would not need to feel as if you are alone in this world. I do not want you to feel as if you have no one to turn to in times when you need a shoulder to cry on the most."

"Wow, so bossy. When and where did you pick up such a displeasing attitude?"

"When you spoil me so much, you should have already expected this."

So just know, if I ever love again,

He huffs, smiling regardless.

"I love you. I hope the wind continues to tell you how much I do when I am no longer able to."

my definition of love is always you.

A/N: I did it. It's 5am. I'm passing out (⁠＠⁠_⁠＠⁠;⁠)

Edit (3:14PM): I fixed the grammar mistakes. Thank you for reading :DD

#genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #barbatos x reader #genshin x reader #venti x you #genshin barbatos #genshin venti #genshin impact barbatos #written ! #Mini Series: Love Language #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin venti x you

[czaneavecg]

Poor Unfortunate souls

What am I doing with my life, I could no longer wait for another day, I just need to get these two out of my system. Such lovely written characters by @journey-to-the-au, I finished this by 1 am so do please forgive me- ANYWAYS ---

Short one-shot about such sweet babies: Lady Miss Morning and her Son that has to suffer because of Macaque, why must fate be so cruel?

“Mother, what are you doing out here?” Dandelion’s soft voice can be heard in the silence covered forest, the pale  monkey yawned as he further approached her. Dandelion frowned at the sight of his beloved mother as she sat on a lonely hill, waiting for… someone.  Someone that he’s sure that’s never to return, truthfully at this point he wishes he was wrong.

Dandelion forced a smile while he began to walk towards her, still sleepy. “Let us return home,” He noticed his loving mother stare into the distance, her mind seem lost. He sat next to her, making the lonely monkey jump. “Goodness, dear. I did not notice you…” Her voice was tired, and she was too. The moon’s silver rays covered them while the two sat in silence.

He knows exactly why she’s here and bit back an urge to bad mouth the six eared macaque, he already tried reasoning with her before but that never really worked. That negative attitude is not needed here, especially not now. Maybe this time he’d be able to help her. Morning’s son stared at her and got a good glance of her face, Dandelion grimaced at the sight and how much such distress can affect his poor mother; The golden monkey has lost her rays,

The eyes of the sun carry a sorrowful gaze.

Waiting for someone who’s long lost in the void

Is what her pitiful heart cannot avoid.

How the pain in her heart could be truly lifted?

When whom she fell in love by someone so gifted.

Morning took a deep breath “Oh Dandelion,” her voice was cold, a complete contrast to how she normally speaks, “I just don’t get it…” She began to speak; The other closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for another talk. Every day, Morning would sit at the very hill where she and Macaque last felt each other’s presence, before he… vanished.  

He waited for her to continue but no words seemed to come out of her mouth anymore, and all he heard was a heavy sigh. The hopeful monkey never wanted to give up, she knows that hies still alive, she wanted to believe and so she does. Up until many years later.  Most of the troop clearly pities her, but none of such judgments could ever break her spirit, and she won’t let it, as long as she could bear it. Even if it means hurting herself in the process.

Dandelion observes her with such tired eyes; he noticed she held a flower, his beloved mother held to it for dear life, not wanting to let go. Such a sorrowful Bellwort.

‘Oh mother, why must you be like this?’

The two sat in silence for a moment until she spoke once again staring into the distance. “I do wish he’s here, you two would’ve gotten along very well…” A bitter chuckle escaped Dandelion ‘But unfortunately he isn’t’  “I hope so” he replied. Morning glanced at him laughing softly, “He isn’t all that bad, don’t listen to the others.” She said playfully, most of the other monkeys only told Dandelion how much of a bad father the six eared macaque is, but she could never allow such negativity affect her child’s mind towards him.

She recalled another memory. Sighing deeply she spoke “You know, this made me remember that one time; this was when your father and I were just staring to court…” Her eyes drifted at the ground, Morning continued “And I was picking up flowers nearby, and when a snake tried to slither towards me... and you know how much I don’t like such creatures.” Dandelion nodded ‘Then how could you have gotten along with him?’’

“Honestly I was so scared, I - I just don’t understand how such creatures could easily kill, just like that…” She paused, “I really thought I was going to be its next victim. I didn’t want to die” The word made Dandelion’s heart run cold. Morning spoke the lasts phrases in a singing way “But in a fortunate state, I was saved by your father.” Dandelion stared at her, Morning’s tone lighten up “It it wasn’t for him, I may or may not be here anymore. Granted, we weren’t sure if it was able to kill but, my point it-- that’s how I know he has a good heart, Dandelion. You needn't have to believe every word they say” Morning giggled the sound of her laughter bittersweet.

He could only give her a smile. He spoke softly turning away from his mother "Aha...guess he isn't that much of a..." Dandelion's face turned bitter, suddenly remembering the fact that HE, despite having such a good heart. Left. "Then why..?" His statement made Morning frown, she knows what he meant.

She’s been asking herself the same thing for years.

Morning stared at him, seeing the pain from his eyes. "Oh my sweet child," The golden monkey raised a hand to held his face, slowly guiding it to face her. The two stared for a moment until the loving mother spoke "I understand you hate your father for that, but-" "Oh, so you noticed" Morning flinched a bit at his statement making her gloom once more, Dandelion noticed it and apologized softly. "W-Why wouldn't I? I mean, look at you" her child spoke, his voice sounding desperate. "I understand you love him, mother but, please." He held her hand tightly "Just, look at yourself!" Dandelion winced at his own words. It came out a bit harsher than intended. "You barely take care of yourself." Dandelion continued as Morning listened, her heart aching oh so slightly. “You look after for him every single day and night. To the point where’d you’d forget about yourself!” It feels as if he's at the verge of tears. Morning was rather speechless, she's never heard of her own child speak to her like that. He sounded desperate, perhaps a bit too much for her liking. He lies -- “I truly understand that you love him mother I do. I know , but …” "Please mother. You need to let him go…" Such simple words made Morning stare at him, her eyes glassy. She can feel her heart heavy. Morning took deep breaths, collecting her mind for a moment. But unfortunately those did not work and all that happened was ragged breaths, "I c-can't..." two words came out broken, Dandelion took a deep breath, feeling himself a little teary eyed as well. Why couldn’t she just accept the fact that he will no longer return? "Oh my sweet child, Dandelion," Another deep breath, "You know I can't, I..." Dandelion watched his mother as her breathing slowly turn into broken sobs.

 Oh no... What has he done...?

The loving son could feel slight regret creeping into him. But perhaps, he'd take this opportunity to help her.

“I…I don’t understand…” She cried, “What could be the reason for him to leave?” Morning’s woe made Dandelion’s heart ache “Are we not enough..?” The heartbroken monkey sobbed, tears streaming down on her face. “Why must he… leave..?” Morning spoke, her voice above a soft whisper, too tired to even speak properly. The golden eyed monkey clutched the flower close to her chest, gripping it tightly, “Why?”

Her loving son took a deep breath. “We do not have an answer for why he has left us, but…”

Dandelion was trying.

“It would be… less painful if you could stop holding on to him…”

He was doing his best.

“Mother, I know it takes time for your heart to heal, but. Always remember I’ll be here for you. ”

He does not understand why his mother loved someone that could hurt her the most.

“I -  No. We will help you heal, I promise you. I will never leave you, mother…”

But he could always try.  

Dandelion caressed his mother’s face, wiping away the pained tears. The brokenhearted monkey gazed upon him; his soft voice was enough to comfort her through the hurt. Morning felt a part of her spirit lift, her cold heart feeling warmth once again. Dandelion smiled softly as the golden rays shine upon them. His eyes carrying genuine comfort. “I promise…” She could only stare, soft laughter escaping her lips. Morning nodded.

“I’ll try”

Perhaps, acceptance could be truly better. ____________________________________________________

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- THIS IS SO CHEESY GOOD LORD Have mercy on me.

I wanted to write angst with these two but my brain isn’t braining.

And it’s VERY OOC (I hope its not)

My man Dandelion could not help himself with hating on Macaque, he never refers to him as father, only Lady miss Morning says that.

I TRIED MY BEST, It’s been months since I last wrote something, but this is what you get when some certain authors (yes plural) decided to fire inspirations, and got me shot.

But I do like to think the fact that Morning are afraid of snakes is that it’s a stupid metaphor to the fact that Macaque betrayed his own family n such, and Dandelion hating on snakes is just him loathing his father.

I'm thinking too much to such simple phobias, I-

#jttw #I dont even know #IMMA SLEEP #CURSE THIS #Im deleting this but I just really need to get these two out of my system #then I can focus #haha #I wanna watch little mer #again such memories

[belladonazeppole]

Strawhat-Heart-Kid Alliance Madness (Captains Edition)

Law: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life.

Kid: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Law: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Luffy: Edible.

+++

Law: Eustass-ya, our crews are still on for the polar bear swim tonight?

Kid: It's either that or go carolling with the Strawhats, so yeah. I'd rather walk into the freezing ocean.

+++

Kid: Is there a word that's a mix between "sad" and "mad"?

Law: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated.

Luffy: Smad.

+++

Luffy: Jaggy, you gotta find out if he's in the same place you are. Otherwise, it's just a moo point.

Kid: A moo point?

Luffy: Yeah. It's like a cow's opinion. It just doesn't matter. It's moo.

Law: Have I been in an alliance with him too long or did that all just make sense?

+++

Luffy: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited!

Law: "If"

Kid: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and they might not even die.

+++

Luffy: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Kid: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues?

Law: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

+++

Kid: But who gets which pencil?

Law: Since they're my things, I get the good one, Strawhat-ya gets the broken one and you don't get one because fuck you.

#one piece #one piece incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #monkey d. luffy #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #straw hat pirates #heart pirates #kid pirates #this guys are a mess

[triassictriserratops]

please don’t take this weird but if that’s you in your pfp you’re INCREDIBLY beautiful and i hope you find your peeta mellark one day!!! have a good day 🌻

The cutie in that picture is actually my dog, Lup (pronounced Loop) But i'll let her know you called her beautiful! (Thank you, anon! That is so unbelievably sweet and kind! I get pretty down on myself, looks-wise, way too much. so confidence boosts like this are like little pieces of SUNSHINE!) As for finding my Peeta Mellark... not to get sentimental, and heartbreakingly depressing, on main but I did meet my Peeta Mellark. They were perfect, wonderful, funny, absolutely gorgeous, the kindest and most loving human being i'd ever met in my life. They made me smile every second of every day I got to love them. And they made me laugh with my entire soul. They changed my heart and my life in every possible way a person could be changed for the better. And they even loved to BAKE. (I still think about their biscuits and their beer bread with fondness!) They were my favorite person in the entire world and I could talk about them for hours. All anyone has to do is bring them up and it lights me up from the inside. I LOVE talking about them. They passed away in December of 2019. Three days after we were engaged. My heart was torn to pieces and it took me 4 years, and a LOT of therapy, to want to live life again. I will spend the rest of my life loving them and looking forward to all of the things I'll get to tell them I did with my life when I do get to see them again. I've actually recently started dating again. I've gone on a few dates with an absolute teddy bear of a man who seems to be besotted with me and whose company I really, truly enjoy. (And who, on our most recent date, actually VERBATIM said that kissing me made him hunger for more. WHO ACTUALLY SAYS THAT?!?! DID I WRITE THIS MAN INTO EXISTENCE????) Oh and on our FIRST date he helped me get some pretty rocks from a rock stand, put a blanket down on a bed of dandelions, and UNPROMPTED was like, "Did you know you can actually eat dandelions?" WHO IS THIS MAN????

#personal #for the moots #grief #living after loss #suicide loss #mental heath awareness #chapter 2 #tragic backstory

[mermaid-trash]

Help from a Friend

a/n: I just want to give venti a hug is that really too much to ask for ;;-;;

Characters: Venti x fem!creator!reader (this can be read as platonic or romantic I think...)

📌 feel free to send a request!! I'll write hcs or oneshots for some characters (x gn!reader usually) so pls send them in and I'll do what I can ❤️ 📌

Venti didn't remember much about the moment he was given his archon status; there had been a hushed conversation, the details of which he could not remember, and then power like he had never felt before rushing through his form. Among these fragments of memory was only one coherent visual - a flash of a face. Kind and gentle looking, a soft smile curving at her lips.

For the thousands of years since that day, he couldn't help but think of that fond look in her eye whenever he began to doubt himself; the memory reminded him that she felt he was someone worth admiring even before he became a god, and the creator of this world herself could not be wrong. That knowledge made the whirlwind of thoughts in his head seem just slightly more bearable, if only for a few moments.

It was a moody Thursday in Mondstadt, and Venti was unusually quiet as he perched on a barstool in Angel's Share, cradling an empty wine glass in his hands. The skies had been grey with clouds all day, and an unusually chilly wind whipped through the city, biting the skin of citizens going about their days. Some citizens had joked that Lord Barbatos must simply be in a bad mood - and they were correct in their assumptions.

Today, the grief and loneliness was a heavier burden for the anemo archon to bear than usual. Even the soothing memory of the creator did nothing to cheer his thoughts; every moment in his past reminded him of all he had lost, of all the pain he had seen, and it was more than he thought anyone could bear.

When Venti heard the door to the tavern swing open behind him, he did not even bother to turn and greet whoever had just entered as he usually would, with his lyre and a clever rhyme; he remained still, pondering his empty glass until a voice came from behind him.

"Venti the bard, I presume?"

Snapping out of his reverie immediately, he forced a convincing smile and turned towards the speaker, equipped with a cheery greeting that died in his throat as the bard was stunned into silence.

"I believe we have met before." she said, taking a seat on the stool beside Venti while he still gaped at her. After a moment, he managed to stammer out a response.

"I- uh, y-yes, I believe we have, fair lady." the bard's ears were turning pink and she was smiling at him so sweetly, so earnestly, that he found it almost painful to look at.

Thankfully, Charles approached just in time to save Venti the embarrassment of her gaze on him, and she ordered two glasses of wine, placing a clinking pouch of mora on the bar as she did.

"Mondstadt seems well." the creator said thoughtfully while they waited for their drinks. It was barely a compliment, yet Venti's heart leapt in his chest anyway.

"Oh, certainly!" he agreed eagerly, "Admittedly, we've had our problems, but lately the city has been thriving! The people of Mondstadt have always looked after each other, after all."

"I'm sure that Lord Barbatos has helped this city to thrive, too." she added gently, knowingly, and Venti chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and willing the heat developing in his cheeks to dissipate.

Luckily, Charles arrived then with two glasses of dandelion wine, and Venti quickly hid his rosy cheeks behind his drink. He hardly dared to look at her, certain that she was smiling again and that his heart couldn't handle so much fondness aimed directly at him today.

"Ehe, so, fair lady, what brings you to the city today?" he inquired instead.

"I came to visit you." she said simply, as though it should have been obvious. Venti was perplexed.

"Uh, I mean no disrespect, but...why?" he asked; she considered him for a moment with a curious expression.

"I do not interact with the people of Teyvat very often," she began carefully, "but I could not allow a friend to suffer alone."

Venti's face brightened visibly as her words registered. His chest swelled with a mixture of pride and affection for her, all thoughts of his past grief forgotten in the pink haze of her kindness.

"A friend, you say?" he asked playfully, grinning widely at her.

It was her turn to look flustered at that, glancing away and clearing her throat gently. The bard revelled in her embarrassment, barely bothering to hide his joy as she became suddenly interested in the wooden grain of the bar.

"If you would like that, yes." she answered hesitantly, and Venti laughed, taking a joyous swig from his glass. Outside the window, the sky over Mondstadt had already begun to clear.

"Of course, friend!" he giggled happily, "In that case, I hope you have plenty of mora, because we have a lot of catching up to do!"

#venti x reader #barbatos x reader #genshin impact x reader #venti genshin impact #lord barbatos

[thepartyresponsible]

Hey there! I've read all the way through your fics masterlist (for the second time this year) and am craving more (who wouldn't?!). I was just wondering, since I'd hate to impose asking for something new, if you'd consider posting a snippet of one of your wips (maybe something with Clint)? Any scrap of material you'd be willing to release into the world again would be like a holy grail, a balm to soothe savage readers. Love your writing so much!!

hello! i'm not working on much right now, but i've been reading something is killing the children, and, naturally, trying to figure out how to write a dc/marvel crossover in that universe.

so here's a little snippet of a something is killing the children dc/marvel au, where jason todd and clint barton are young, feral, and murderous.

warnings for graphic violence, dead parents, and gore.

- - -

The White Masks clean up after a feeding frenzy at a circus, and, afterwards, they bring home a pair of blonde brothers still spotted with blood. Circus kids, just like Dick, but skinnier. The youngest is wearing a costume, bright purple and garish, an embarrassment in the predawn light. He’s clutching a bow like a teddy bear, has that pale, rolling-eyed look of fresh trauma.

The story, when it filters to them, is that a brood of Oscuratypes feasted their way through a late-night performance. The monsters started in the stands, ate their way to the stage. It was a spectacle, Jason hears. A real, once-in-a-lifetime sort of show.

Whole families dismembered and consumed alive. Pieces of acrobats raining down from the trapeze. Blood and guts and sequins and screams.

The baby brother, that five foot nothing bit of dandelion fluff on legs, killed three of the babies with blunted arrows. Three of the damn things.

“I mean,” Jason says, at dinner, “it’s bullshit. Kid shows up with three kills. That’s not fair.”

“Yeah.” Dick looks disappointed in him, which is how he usually looks these days. “That’s absolutely the point here, Jason. That’s what we’re all focusing on. He has more kills than you.”

“He hasn’t been initiated,” Jason continues. “He doesn’t even have a totem. He’s got three kills and--”

“And,” Bruce intones, “twenty-six people are dead.”

It should be more. One adult and five babies, a crowd of hundreds of people. Should be dozens upon dozens. Should be a fucking mess.

A twelve-year-old kid with blunt arrows and a spangly purple leotard. “And,” Jason says, as he shoves to his feet, “he’s too fucking old for this.”

- -

Jason was eleven when he watched a monster rip his mother into meat. He remembers the teeth.

He remembers her high-pitched, dying-rabbit shrieks, remembers that awful wet slurping. He remembers everything, every sound, the arc of blood, angle dropping rapidly, pressure failing. The way she looked at him, the way she stopped.

He remembers the weight of the knife from the kitchen, shitty and dull like everything they owned. The useless dredge of terror in his chest, all that stupid, howling grief.

Twelve’s too fucking old. A younger brain’s more malleable, sieves that shit right out of you, kicks it to the backburner of your subconscious mind. Jason knows plenty of White Masks who showed up when they were six or seven, and he almost wouldn’t clock them as Knights if he never saw them work.

But he can always tell the older ones. The cracks never quite fuse up right.

Black Masks are different, but they always are.

The point is, the kid had a chance. It’s just too damn bad his monsters showed up so late.

- -

“They’re gonna kill you,” Jason tells him. Out after curfew, unmasked with an uninitiated stray. Rules are for breaking, like laws and promises and necks.

If Bruce didn’t want him here, he should’ve nailed his bedroom window shut.

If the house didn’t want him talking to the stray, they should’ve nailed his window shut too.

“Loose ends,” Jason says.

The blonde shrugs. His name is Clint. His brother disappeared less than six hours after they brought him here, stole out sometime during lunch, and everybody’s shocked as hell except the brother he left behind. “Seems like,” he says, slow and kinda rambling, picking through his words, “everything’s been trying. But nothing’s done it yet.”

That white mask looks terrible on him, covers him from cheekbones to jaw, washes him out. He’d look better in black, but God knows Bruce wasn’t going to risk going to another circus. Look what happened last time.

Bruce Wayne, the so-called last of the Dark Knights, all his good, solitary intentions shattered apart at the feet of the bloodily orphaned Dick Grayson. And then Jason, and then Steph, and then Tim. Maybe Bruce will be the last in the end, but he has some graves to dig first.

“Take that stupid thing off,” Jason says, reaching for the mask.

Clint dodges away from his hand. Not like a flinch, like a habit. “Supposed to keep it on,” he says. “They told me. Coulson said. Whenever we’re out of our rooms, mask on.”

“Fucking Coulson,” Jason sneers. “What the fuck would he know? He’s new to being in charge. Yesterday, he was just one of us.”

“Hey,” Clint says, finally looking him in the eyes. “He’s nice.”

He says it soft, but those blunted arrows were soft too. He killed three monsters, saved dozens, and there was Jason, at damn near the same age, and he saved nobody, killed nothing.

Jason’s fourteen now. Sometimes he can feel the hunt like a shiver behind his eyes. He remembers, always, forever. The way his mother looked at him, the pathetic stretch of his open hand, the time he wasted screaming when he should’ve been going for a knife.

He keeps that monster caged in a stuffed bat, identical to Dick’s except for the red stitching. The first gift Bruce Wayne ever gave him.

Well, the second, if you count his life.

“That monster you couldn’t kill,” Jason says, “that big one. The mother. They’re gonna tell you they want you tame it. But it’s a lie. You’re too old. You’re an outsider. That’s not how the White Knights work. They’re gonna let it eat you.”

The Dark Knights are different, always have been. But White Knights fall in line. White Knights turn inward.

Clint looks at him, white mask blank and toothless against his face, erasing him until he’s just a pair of bloodshot blue eyes and hair so blonde that patches of it are still dyed faintly red. Three dead monsters, and a skinny wide-eyed kid. Just bait, Jason thought. Just a corpse still walking.

Looking at him now, there’s no bait, there’s no corpse. There’s a killer, staring back. The hunt that hums in Jason’s chest is an itch in his teeth. He feels like it’s humming in Clint, too. Not quite an echo, but a harmony, maybe.

Three dead monsters. It could be so many more.

“I want you to live,” Jason says. “We could kill so many of those bastards.”

Clint tilts his head. “I thought,” he says, still drawling through his vowels like he’s got time to waste, “that we were trying to save people.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, “sure. Whatever.”

That’s probably how the White Knights spin it. But Jason’s mask is black, and he doesn’t care how many people they save. The only person who mattered is already dead.

“C’mon,” Jason says, and this time, when he grabs Clint by the arm, he doesn’t dodge away. “I’m gonna teach you how to live.”

#writing #fic #asks