relationship: mobei jun/shang qinghua
tags: dreams + nightmares, whump, torture, blood and gore, h/c
The forest was looming and large behind him, like it was sucking him in and closing in around him.
“My—My king,” Shang Qinghua croaked desperately, voice weaker than he had intended. He begged in his heart for him to turn around. Please, he thought. Please, please, turn around. Look at me. Come back.
This is for @historical-hetalia-week
Day 6: 1945 onwards | Memento
Summary: WWII ended, and aparently everything ended for Prussia too.
Warning: Character death and blood.
Genere: after- war/ war period story
Prussia was wandering around Ivan’s manor’s garden, there were plenty of roses and leafy trees. He had been thinking a lot. It had been two years since the war was over, and he still couldn’t understand how it ended so soon. One day he was commanding his Panzer in Russia, the other day he was leaning on Brandenburg Gate wounded.
“It’s over”. He said, and then he collapsed on the floor. “It’s over.” He repeated. “I failed.” He murmured. Then he felt someone approaching: It was Ivan. Prussia didn’t know what to think; because the Russian seemed angry and sad at the same time.
“Prussia, you lost. I warned you to don’t go that far.” He said as he raised Gilbert from the rubble. It was extrange; Ivan expected some fighting, but Beilschmidt seemed so docile. “Aren’t you shouting? Any punches?” Russia still didn’t get any word as he provoked him. “Gilbert?” Asked Ivan as he relaxed his factions.
“Let me here. I want to die in peace”. Gilbert said. “I was suppose to kill myself instead of surrender, but I’m tired of fighting. I’ve been fighting since I was born. I fought for food.. I fought for my land… I fought for my name, my brother, my country… I fought to breathe… I fought for you… And now…” He took a look at the destroyed city. Berlin was a pile of dust. Everything was grey and dead. Gilbert had a look before making eye contact with Ivan. “Now everything is broken. Everything I fought for is gone. This is… Is this how everything ends?” Prussia asked as Ivan helped him to stand up. The albino man had a real bad injury in his side, it was bleeding. Gilbert’s black uniform was soaked with blood, even there was some blood on the floor.
“I… I don’t know!” Ivan answered. He wasn’t sure if it was the end of Prussia. He had never seen the men so defeated.
“Would you promise something… For the love we had to each other?” Gilbert asked sadly, remembering when they ended their relationship because of the Stalingrad battle.
“Y-yes.” Ivan was scared as he was holding Gilbert to make him stand.
“When I die, please, can you bury me in a bed of roses?” He asked.
“You are not dying!” Ivan exclaimed crying, because Prussia can’t die, no?
“Ivan. This was my last war. I’m not fighting anymore.” He asserted, then he fainted in Ivan’s arms.
Time went by, it was 1947 and Prussia was definitely dissolved. That night Gilbert had dinner alone and went to his room with the excuse to have a nap. Ivan knew he probably wouldn’t be alive for next morning. So, he went to check Gilbert to find him breathless. Gilbert was into the bed hugging his sword and uniform.
“Gilbert?” Ivan asked the man, but got no answer. Russia touched his skin: he was still warm but there was no beating. Gilbert had died recently. “ Oh, Gil.” Ivan was impressed because the albino hadn’t suffered. He just died sleeping.
Ivan felt as some cold hands wrapped his heart. He went to the garden and cut roses and went to the lake in the forest. He took a boat and filled it with petals, then he came back to take Gilbert.
“I’m sorry. I'm… Really sorry. You didn’t fail. You didn’t lose everything. Just… Just things don’t last forever.” Ivan said as he placed the Prussian on the bed of roses. It was a sunny day, but the weather doesn’t understand when people are sad. “Bis bald, Gilbert Beilschmidt.” The man said as he let the boat slide into the water.
Sun was shining on Gilbert’s face, but he couldn’t feel warmth, and he will never feel it again. He was dead, but this time he won’t wake up as it happened in wars when he was injured severally. Now, as any human, he will sleep forever.
I use “Bis Bald” since it means “See you soon”, this way Ivan isn’t saying something like “Goodbye forever”. It’s like he has the hope that Prussia come to live again.
I was inspired in this song:
I thought I would (instead of a drabble today), offer you the actual recipe for Corrupted Cake, which Luke makes for Han & Leia’s anniversary in my Luke/Mara sex pollen fic. (Click on the amazing art from @jadedjo above if you’d like to read). The recipe actually predates the fic 😁 as it was written to make my nephew laugh.
1 cup Tauntaun milk
1 cup Bantha milk
1 tbsp Zeltron herb (preferably fresh but powdered will do)
1 cup Corellian Whiskey
2 Geejaw eggs
3 cups Pom Seed flour
1 cup Basa Root flour
3 tsp Kessinnamon spice
¼ cup Sunberry wine
6 H'Kak beans
3 cups Trammistan chocolate chips
Pol Pollen to dust
1. Smash the H'Kak beans into mush and soak the mush in Corellian Whiskey overnight.
2. Mix the Geejaw eggs and Kessinnamon spice together and set aside.
3. Sift the two flours together and add the milks. Stir like a rabid rancor until smooth.
4. Add the Zeltron herb and Sunberry wine to the flour mixture and mix until everything takes on a light pink color.
5. Add the Trammistan chocolate chips and bean/whiskey mixture.
6. Coat a cylindrical cake mold (like an empty lightsaber hilt) with the spice mixture.
7. Pour in the cake batter and let sit in the fridge for 10 standard hours and 19 standard minutes. HAS TO BE EXACT.
7. When the batter has congealed and has the temperature of a wet wampa, dump onto a plate.
9. Sprinkle a dusting of Pol Pollen overall.
10. Eat raw and slowly digest for the next thousand years.
The second (the last) chapter of girl!brocedes tennis au has been posted 🎾
michael tries out nicknames the human way - warping the syllables of their names to make them shorter or just different.
he lands on ‘daddy’ for adam, somehow. adam bursts out laughing but, confusingly, when he calms down from his laughing fit, on the brink of tears, he begs michael never to call him that again.
“you don’t want me to be your dad, do you? your father,” he clarifies, when michael remains obstinately obtuse.
“i do not call my father daddy. i don’t see the issue.”
“regardless, that word has connotations in english, and i know you know what they are.”
michael is silent, but a ghost of a smirk tugs up one corner of his mouth.
“so, no one is daddy. good talk.” he claps his partner on the shoulders and turns to head upstairs.
“adam ant is preferable, then? i understand.” adam winces. he shoulda guessed michael was playing some kind of 3D chess. but even that stupid pun was better than daddy.
“yeah, sure. whatever you want, mickey mouse.” he bolts up the stairs, and michael is quick to pursue him.
So, I don’t know if anyone remembers, but back in the days of yore when I wrote my Dad Friend Renji Fic, we all joked about Chad teaching Renji what a meme is, and this is literally what that is. Writing has been slow lately, so I thought I’d take a shot at writing a lighthearted drabble between the two underrated dudes of the six hearts club. Set during the Advance Team arc, when these two were training together.
No Byakuyas were harmed in the making of this fic. | Read on Ao3
BELLATRIX/CASSANDRA - PART VI
NC-17 • Cassandra’s POV • Set After Chapters 42+ of “Crimson Regret”
Cassandra could remember the day she found out she was not pureblood as though it were yesterday. She had had her first kiss with a boy who lived down the road, and she had been so very excited to run home and tell her mother that she was a woman now, as she was obviously having very adult feelings, despite being only twelve years old. Oliver was a year older than her, and he was patient and kind and glowed a vibrant indigo, a color that was so very different than the usual reds and oranges that surrounded Cassandra when she was around her Housemates at school. Cassandra had thought her mother would be pleased, as Oliver was a fit and proper boy, but Oliver was a Brocklehurst, and the Brocklehursts were not pureblood.
“What did I tell ya?” Móra had frantically exclaimed, looking panicked beyond all sane reasoning, but, then again, Cassandra’s mother hadn’t been sane for nearly a year now. She had always been curious about new areas of magic but had never really been any good, and an accident had rattled her brain and affected her ability to control her emotions. Móra slapped her hand against the pureblood tapestry that hung on their parlor wall multiple times, each loud accent of her hand making Cassandra jump a bit, as she hadn’t expected her mother’s reaction to be this negative. “Only them— only them; please… please, my little fae, they have control, they have everything— your life, your children’s lives will be better for it, just do as I say…!”
“He’s half though; s’not like I kissed a mudblood!” Cassandra had tried to defend, as she knew better than to do that. But halfbloods were everywhere now; pureblooded families were dying out, and her mother had even told her there was nothing wrong with halfbloods, as they inherited their magic from a legitimate place instead of stealing it like everyone assumed the mudbloods did, but that they just could not be her destiny in the end. But that was okay, because Cassandra was twelve, and she wasn’t worried about destiny just yet. “I’m not gonna marry ‘im, Mum, I just—”
“Just ‘cause you don’t plan to marry him, doesn’t mean ya can’t make a mistake like I did!” Móra had sputtered out, upset and regret etching in the lines of her expression. “Accidents happen— ya might think it’s harmless, but one kiss when you’re young can lead to doin’ more when you’re not, an’ then suddenly you’re pregnant with a kid that’ll already have disadvantages in this world just ‘cause ya followed your heart instead o’ your head, an’ you’ll hate yourself, Cassie— you’ll look at her every bloody day and hate yourself for what you’ve done, ‘cause ya know you ruined her life, ruined her chances…! No, no, no, no…” Because Móra had heard herself then, had recognized yet another one of her mistakes as she begged her daughter to her understand. “Oh, I didn’t mean that, pumpkin’; I’m sorry— my head; m’not thinkin’, I’m sorry… I think I’m just confused again…”
(WARNING!! There’s a lot of emotional and mental abuse and past major physical abuse mentioned, in this story. If you’re sensitive to this type of thing, please be cautious)
AU Sans and Papyrus X Reader
At first, it seemed like a dream come true when your old friend offered to let you live with her and her…. friends in their big ole house during college. For a small amount of rent of course, it was the cheapest option by far. But…. then… you started seeing behind the curtain…..
….. And you really didn’t like what you saw…..
Chapter 34 is up! Enjoy!
Lena had learned early on in her tenure as CEO that the stress of this job wasn’t something you could fight head-on. It was too constant and all-consuming for that. You had to let it pass through you, not let yourself get worked up by everyone else’s anger or panic or frustration. Usually she was pretty good at doing just that. But not this week.
These past several days, it was as if every single person she’d interacted with had been tasked to find and drain her patience down to it’s last reserve, until she’d finally succumbed and absorbed the stress into her own body.
And now she was paying for it physically, with knots in her shoulders and neck, and a possible headache on the horizon.
She stretched her arms over her head, then rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen it up even a fraction. Maybe she could con a massage out of Kara when she returned from whatever emergency had stolen her away a short while ago.
My first dialogue-only story. A meet-cute modern AU Bagginshield, hope you like it :3 You can also read this fic on AO3.
“Fíli! Remember not to push Kíli on the swing too hard!”
“Frodo, be careful on the slide!”
“I’m sorry to bother you but… your sons seem to have made friends with my nephew.”
“They’re my nephews.”
“Oh, forgive me, they look like they’re yours.”
“I get that a lot.”
“You’re not offended, I hope?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Good, good. Should we sit? There aren’t many free benches left.”
“Maybe that one?”
A/N: So, I got half your prompt right. I forgot about the whole propaganda thing and did something else… sincerely, my bad. But I did include Jet & Suki & the Kyoshi Warriors bonding so I hope it helps.
Jet was broken. An orphan who watched his village burn down to the ground. He was a boy who built a family of his own only to lose that too.
There was a time when their hideout up in the trees was filled with laughter and lights. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. Now, they have splintered off and gone their own way.
Smellerbee and Longshot were the last of them to leave. In the almost abandoned hideout, they asked Jet to come with them. They could travel to some other village together and start fresh. They could leave all of it behind and never look back. Jet turned them down.
He looked at the empty bunks and unlit lanterns. He thought if he listened hard enough, he could hear laughter. There might still be a home here. He believed that. Smellerbee and Longshot looked at him then with sad pitying eyes. He watched them walk away and he wondered if he would ever see them again.
It was a month after everyone has gone when Jet saw the tree houses for what they were—relics of a time long passed.
Jet packed his meager belongings, strapped them on his back, and left too.
A collection of different POVs and little snippets of my story, “There’s Still Magic.”
I don’t think this meeting was what Grey and Lunar were hoping for….
saved by the bell
foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)
blaine springs kennedy from her date in chapter 10.
tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes ; @levineseth ; @gryffindordaughterofathena ; @thefirstcourtesan ; @josieplayschoices
~3.5k words | T
he’s not going to look.
no matter how much his phone lights up with incoming notification after incoming notification, he’s not going to look. blaine refuses to torture himself by checking for photos of kennedy’s date, though his curiosity is eating him alive.
it’s a nice reprieve from worrying about her, at any rate, even if it is maddening.
Tagged by: @prubun (thaanks :3)
Okey. Let’s see. I have been working in two different fics at the same time. One in Spanish and the other in English. The following I’m gonna share isn’t posted still:
Bed of Roses (English): It’s a short one-shot (WIP) for an event in tumblr.
“Prussia, you lost. I warned you to don’t go that far.” He said as he raised Gilbert from the rubble. It was extrange; Ivan expected some fighting, but Beilschmidt seemed so docile. “Aren’t you shouting? Any punches?” Russia still didn’t get any word.”
Dunkel (Español): This is a multi- chapter fic that I’ve been working to take it out of hiatus. It’s a cardverse AU. Waring: This is not edited yet:
Ludwig comenzó a pedir cada vez más y más retratos, hasta que llenó todo un pasillo con los posibles retratos — bastantes exactos a decir verdad— de Gilbert Beischmidt.
Ludwig creó casi una credo entorno a su idea.
Pero, mientras la locura del joven príncipe acrecentaba, la distancia de Gilbert respecto a su antigua prisión también.
El albino admiraba como el paisaje y el clima cambiaba rotundamente a medida que se acercaba al gélido norte.
Huyendo del ejercito de Hearts, Gilbert comenzó a quedarse sin comida y el agotamiento lo vencía. Entonces, entre el mar de nieve, sus fuerzas fueron vencidas y perdió el conocimiento. A partir de ese momento se vio atado a Ivan Braginsky, príncipe de Klever.
Tagging: @gashetadechocolate @miloafternoonks @last-year-coffee @rusger-forever (sorry i don’t know too many people in tumblr).
None of you have to do it. Don’t feel obligated ;)