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sunandflame · 8 months

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Shards of Glass, Chapter 1

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 1050

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

And please tell my Y/N not to grieve too much and to feel free to let me wait in the afterlife. I will be waiting for her.

I will be waiting for her…

waiting for her…

With a loud gasp, Kyojuro woke up and sat up in bed. In a panic, the young student clutched at his chest and his eye and immediately calmed down when he noticed that everything was still there. There was no hole adorning his torso.

He looked at the clock. 04:34 am. This time was burned into the core of his memory because he always woke up at this exact time when he had this dream about a strange demon train and his traumatic death. This dream kept repeating itself around his birthday. At first he didn’t waste a thought about it and dismissed it as a merely weird dream, but the more he kept seeing it and reliving it the more he was forced to look at it differently.

Just seconds after waking up he looked out the window and saw the first rays of sunlight shining through his window. Should he try to go back to sleep? No, that would not work, he was already wide awake. He sighed and swung his legs out of bed. The young student could use the time to jog so he could at least clear his head before working on his master thesis.

But jogging didn't do much good, his face was more serious than his usual sunny disposition and his young brother was already giving him a worried look at the breakfast table. “Brother, are you not feeling well? You haven’t eaten your rice.”

Kyojuro snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Senjuro, giving him a smile. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

“Is this about your master thesis? You don't seem to be able to sleep much because of it. You were up very early today.” His father looked up from the newspaper.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you up, father."

"Kyojuro." His mother filled him up with another bowl of rice before she sat down at the table with them. “It’s not about waking us up. We’re just worried that you overwork yourself too much.”

Kyojuro gave them his well-known big smile and dug into the food. He was indeed hungry even if he was previously lost in his thoughts. "Thank you! Everything is fine, but if there is anything I will let you know!"

Kyojuro was a person who despised lies. He preferred to say things freely, even if they hurt, but he wasn't sure about those dreams of his. They were too strange to talk about or even mention. He once considered talking to his classmate and long time friend Obanai, but as soon as he opened his mouth something else came up and he decided against it each time.

He didn’t even have to sleep now to feel all jumpy. When he worked late into the night for his master thesis he was often able to feel a strong presence of another person behind his own back. Often he had to turn around with a loud “Who’s there?” just to realize he asked into an empty room.

It was probably the stress from the part-time job and the thesis and everything else that was going on. He tried to explain it away, but it didn’t do much and he could not convince himself of the lie. Kyojuro knew that he was not one to stress out easily. But there was one question he asked himself constantly. Why did he see these things over and over again?

A question that would follow him for many years.

If that was not enough, there was another question that was now following his mind. Who was this Y/N that he saw every now and then? The unknown beauty that haunted his nights had appeared after a stroll in the city when he saw a very special necklace in a jewelry shop - that of a water lily. It was handmade and so delicate. He didn't know why the piece of silver captivated him so much at the time, but he stared at it until his friends pulled him away into a fast food restaurant. The thoughts about the necklace were gone but she remained now in his dreams as his Water Lily and he did not know why.

~ ~ ~

Five years later…

“I heard that we’re welcoming a new colleague today. She seems to be a friend or relative of Tomioka.”

“Great, so we’ll soon have another weirdo here?” Sanemi snorted.

“Oh yeah, that's exactly what we need.” Obanai rolled his eyes and acted as if the person being addressed wasn't even in the room while Giyuu sat quietly in the corner.

A pop echoed in the room as Tengen burst his gum’s bubble that made him earn a glare from the math teacher.

Kanae smiled. “But Shinazugawa, you shouldn’t judge too quickly, especially since it’s a woman. Oh, how nice it is to no longer be the only woman among you all.”

"How come? Is our society too masculine for you, Kocho?” The teasing in his voice was audible.

A giggle sounded. “Oh, not at all.”

The flirting between the two was interrupted when Amane Ubuyashiki entered the teachers' room with a young woman who looked a little shy. All eyes were on her except Kyojuro's. He was engrossed in the students' homework and didn't even notice that the principal was standing in front of them. Tengen had to elbow him, only then did he look up from his work. Smiling, he nodded at Ms. Ubuyashiki until his eyes fell on the woman next to her.

Kyojuro's eyes widened subtly.

“We have a new colleague to introduce. This is Y/N L/N, the new English teacher at Kimetsu Academy. Y/N has already been given a tour of the school and also received her syllabus. Please, take good care of her, and introduce yourselves.” With these words, Amane disappeared with a smile and the new coworker stood there all alone.

She watched the principal leaving the room before turning towards them with a shy smile. “Hello, my name is Y/N and I’m looking forward to working with you.”

A/N: It's finally here babes! The sequel to Flame and Water. For everyone who is new here, you don't have to read Flame and Water to read this new series, but it's recommended since it is all about reincarnation. And since the poll decided for a multi chapter fic, I will deliver a multi chapter fic to you babygurls.

Also I wanna mention @heartbroken4ever who's fanart heavily inspired me to this fic (and made me choose the ending for F&W so this can happen). You should definitely check out their art! They are a big inspiration for me!

I hope you stay tuned for the next chapter! Unfortunately there will be no taglist this time, as I was heavily struggling in the past, but just know that I will post weekly updates!

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patheticbatman · 2 months

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At the end of @iowriteswords’s book, Shards of Glass, Gerda takes a picture of all her Fairy friends as proof of her time spent there. I decided to draw it!

Left to right is The Newspaper Princess, Cecelia, The Prince, Kai* and Gerda.

*his eyes are closed because he can’t see very well without his glasses.

#shards of glass #jenny prater #the snow Queen #if you like oz books you should definitely check this one out #hans christian andersen #fairy tales #I can draw hands I swear :)#I just didn’t want to #I especially loved drawing the Newspaper Princess #this is supposed to look like a Polaroid?#gel pen and phone edits #I drew Cece to look like she could be the Newspaper Princess’s daughter because I like the idea that she finds a home there #and the child of the Prince too ofc

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green-grey-n-glitched · 5 months

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"yeah, of course! make yourself at home." she busies herself with firing up the espresso machine, pouring a shot to test and downing it. "here, ill make a drink for you. how do you take your coffee? oh, or tea - ive got a lot of tea, too."

Dark sits down quietly, "Tea would be nice, black if you can, but I don't particularly mind anything else", he picks at the skin on his hands, a positive of the body you reside in being dead is that you never really run out of flaking skin.

"Apologies for the small talk. After all this time, I don't particularly know what to say. " he watches Louise carefully.

#playing with the mask #shards of glass #darkiplier ask blog #(ooc: can yall reblog your response over sending another ask? just cus tumblr is making responding to asks weird on moblie so i cant read-#-the ask when responding yk😭)

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konglindorm · 9 months

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Shards of Glass: Chapter 1

I lost Kai when we were nine. He went missing when we were seventeen.

He was my best friend and brother and half my heart. It’s funny, how those feelings don’t go away. He was practically a stranger, by the time he disappeared, but he was still all those other things, too.

(Manda’s still half convinced I’m in love with him. But Manda’s favorite game is seven minutes in heaven, and I’d rather get a root canal than go on a date, so there tends to be a fundamental breakdown in communication when we talk about that kind of thing.)

Kai never came home Saturday night. His grandma reported him missing Sunday morning. By Monday—

Monday was a snow day. It had been going on and off since Friday night, nonstop since Sunday afternoon. My parents were at work, and I wanted to keep Grandma company, but she was busy, with the police, and the—and I didn’t want to be in the way. So I heard it from the news, not from her.

Local teen, missing two days. Last seen snowboarding at 3pm on Saturday. Snowboard washed up on the far side of the river. A glove and a boot found on the hilltop. Local teen missing, presumed dead.

Kai missing, presumed dead.

Manda called me right after it aired. “I know he was—I’m sorry.”

“Kai’s not an idiot,” I said.

“No one said he was.”

“They did. They just did, on channel six—you think Kai would go down like that? Into the river? Everyone knows you don’t take the hill at that angle, because the Mississippi doesn’t always freeze.”

“Okay, but Gerda, if it was already dark when he—”

“He’s not stupid enough to be out in the dark alone, that close to the river. He’s not, he wouldn’t, Manda. He wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” she said again, humoring me. “So what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. I just know he’s not dead. He—he can’t be. Not Kai.”

Kai in the dark, squinting at me behind fogged up glasses. Kai laughing as he packed a snowball, Kai biking in the sun the day the training wheels came off, Kai in braces and glowers, Kai calling me names, Kai waiting at the back door with the snow falling at his back. Not Kai. Not Kai.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. And that meant I had to find him.

Boots—the heavy black ones that laced in the front. Snow pants—shiny, black, puffy, ugly, warm. The heaviest coat, the thickest mittens, with thin gloves beneath. My ice skating socks. Two scarves. That hat Grandma knitted for me for Christmas. Six granola bars in my pocket.

Kai was a missing person, presumed dead. He was probably more than six granola bars away.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I grabbed a seventh granola bar.

I had walked across town, down the hill, along the river, and into the woods, deep and deep and deeper, before the cold seeped into my shoes, before I realized what I was doing.

I sat abruptly on the snowy ground. I was going to search for my likely-dead evil neighbor, alone, on a Monday afternoon in January, with nothing but the clothes on my back.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I stood up and pulled out the first granola bar.

I’ve spent my whole life one wall away from Kai. Our families live in the two units of a townhouse, and our bedrooms share a wall. When we were kids we had a tin can telephone—we used one of Grandma’s needles with the biggest eye to pull the thread through the screens in our windows, then attached each end to a can inside our rooms. Whenever one of us wanted to talk, we’d knock on the wall, and the other would know to go pick up their can.

We had to replace the string a few times, and the last one fell apart years ago, but the can still lives on my dresser, with a million other things Mom keeps telling me to throw away.

The last few years, if Kai wanted to talk to me, he’d knock on the wall, and I’d go downstairs and meet him in the backyard. I don’t knock anymore—I learned a long time ago that the only way to have a relationship with Kai is on his terms.

Manda says that’s unhealthy. I say Manda’s a hypocrite—she forgives people who keep hurting her, too. She says it’s different because Kai’s not my family. But he might as well be. You don’t stop loving people just because they become unlovable. I may not have liked Kai much, the last few years. But I’ll always do anything for the sake of the person he used to be.

I know it started when we were nine, the trouble. That was the year Kai got glasses. It was also the year he got mean. (Unrelated.) He just got meaner and meaner. He had a special talent for mimicry that showed up that year, and he just—

There was a huge rosebush between our front doors, and it made the biggest, brightest, best-smelling red roses I’ve ever seen, prettier even than the ones you can get from a florist. We were sitting just in front of it, holding very, very still, because there were a bunch of bees around. (Kai always liked bees.) And all of the sudden he shouted.

I asked him if he’d got stung, and he shook his head. “Feels like something flew into my eye.”

A minute later a bee landed on his hand, and he caught it—grabbed it by the wings.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I wanted a closer look,” he said. And he held it up really close to his face—I think he needed the glasses by then—but it was struggling, so it was hard to really look at. So he grabbed the stinger and pulled it out—because losing their stingers kills them—and then it wasn’t moving anymore, and he could get a better look.

And it was so mean, and I was shouting at him, and then he just—dropped it, and he said, “I don’t—I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

We dug a little hole and buried the bee under the oak tree in the backyard. But that was when it started. The day he killed that bee. It happened slowly. He started mocking people and stomping on ants and being rude to Grandma. But only sometimes. Other times he was nice. Other times he was still my best friend. And I just kept hoping he’d grow back out of it.

(When your best friend grows up to be a jerk, you never suspect it’s because of magic.)

I was twelve by the time I admitted to myself that Kai and I weren’t friends anymore. I was sleeping over at his house—we were already a few years out from being sleepover friends, really. But my parents have always travelled a lot, and until I turned fifteen and they decided I could stay home alone overnight, I stayed with Grandma and Kai.

Kai still had his bunk bed back then—one bed for him, and one for a friend, and that friend was always me.

I don’t even remember what he said. He’d been saying horrible things, and I’d been trying to ignore them, for a long time by then. I didn’t hang on to the things he said—I always just tried to forget them as soon as possible. But whatever he said that night, it upset me, more than the things he said usually did. It might have been about my parents—my adoptive parents, not my bio ones. Kai would never go there, even at his worst. Both sets are sore subjects, but there are lines Kai won’t cross, and there were more of them when we were twelve.

My parents are my uncle—my bio mom’s brother—and his wife, really. My bio parents died in a car crash, and they were the only family left. At least, the only family we know about, because my bio dad was from Taiwan, and no one knew if he had any family left there or how to contact them. My parents adopted me because I was family, and it was the right thing to do. They love me, I think. They’ve had me since before I turned two. But I know they never wanted kids. So I’m touchy about it. That would have hurt my feelings, more than most things Kai might have said when we were twelve.

Whatever he said, I climbed down from the top bunk and went to Grandma’s room; she was sitting up in bed, reading.

“I don’t want to sleep in there. Kai’s being mean.”

Grandma sighed and put down her book. She was hoping he’d grow out of it, too, but no luck, no matter how many groundings and timeouts and whatever he got. “Well, maybe you’re getting to be at the age where you shouldn’t be sharing a room.”

After that I slept on the pullout couch, until Mom and Dad let me just stay home.

I was thoroughly lost and down two granola bars by the time I thought of Grandma. (His grandma, not mine, not really.) To be told Kai was probably dead, and then that I’d gone missing—well, they’d probably find my body before Kai’s, even if he really was dead, because I didn’t go barreling toward the Mississippi like a first-rate idiot.

We’re all she has left. To lose us both in the same weekend—

And my parents. My parents—I’m the only family they have, too, and they’d definitely blame themselves if I wandered into the woods and froze to death when they were both working late again—and I knew I was going to freeze to death. I was beyond numb. I kept starting to fall asleep, and then the panic would wake me. I had no idea how long I’d been out—I didn’t have a watch, and it gets dark so early in the winter, it could have been less than an hour, or it could have been three or four. No one would miss me probably until morning—when Mom and Dad got home they’d just assume I was already in bed, so either they’d find my bed empty in the morning, or they’d leave early and someone at school would be the first to realize I was gone.

I was going to freeze to death searching for a stupid jerk who was probably dead already, and there was no way Manda would ever believe I wasn’t in love with him after this—or anyone else either, and why should that even matter, when I was about to freeze to death?

We live in a cul-de-sac, with a huge circle of grass at the end, where the turn-around is—I guess it belongs to the city. But we used to build snow forts there every winter. Me and Kai—we were the only kids on the block, back then. There are some younger kids now, and I’ve seen them do the same thing.

It was always a huge fort—we’d work on it for weeks. The plow would pile all the snow from the street there, so we had plenty of material to work with. We’d dig tunnels into the big piles the plow left. We were in there all day on weekends, and over Christmas break, until Grandma or my parents came to dig us out.

Grandma would never come into the fort—she said her knees were too old—but she used to bring us each a thermos of hot chocolate while we were working. We’d go into the biggest cavern we’d dug out so far, and sit on the packed-down snow on the ground, pressed tight together, to drink it. No one makes hot chocolate like Grandma—I’ve watched her do it, and she just uses the cheap powder like everyone else, but hers tastes better.

I was sitting on the ground in the woods, imagining Kai was pressed into my side, thinking of Grandma’s hot chocolate. And I wasn’t cold anymore, and I knew I was dying.

Then I woke up.

Preorders open now on waxheartpress.com!

#wax heart press #shards of glass #Hans Christian Andersen #the snow queen #fairy tales #fairy tale retellings #my writing #book preview #chapter 1 #coming soon #new release

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iowriteswords · 2 months

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I’m reading Shards of Glass and I love how the newspaper princess feels so very Oz

That’s awesome! I love Oz! Thank you!

#ask #shards of glass #my writing

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yunoteru4ever · 1 year

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初期後期P.2 by 我はにわ (formerly 割ハニワ)

Permission to post granted by the artist

#我はにわ #pixiv #yukiteru amano #yuno gasai #shards of glass #shards of yuno #?#mirai nikki art #mirai nikki #future diary #the future diary #割ハニワ

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silenceofpetals · 5 months

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Shards Of Roses

She reached out for a rose, a symbol of love and beauty. Yet, what she uncovered beneath her desperate embraces was certainly not anticipated; instead of receiving the delicate petals she had blindly hoped for, her fingertips touch shards of broken glass and her palms filled with their razor sharp edges and fragments.

The longing in her heart quickly transformed into heartbreaking realization. That prized rose eluded her grasp, and before her was the only thing she had sought to move away disgustingly spelled out in front of her.

As she stood in the quiet night, time stood still. She held her tremendous weight of grief in the trembled palms of both hands; her greatest burden was undeniably her breaking heart. Her usually unweaning determination wavered, suspended in surprise by what stared back at her from beyond the glass.

He was the same man that had made a life promise with her; the same man whom she thought to always be faithful to her lonely nights of quiet longing. Yet under a mere streetlight she had stumbled upon his life and his muse, crushing any faint seeds of their sweet true love that were on any unbeknownst path to blossom fully. His joyous laughter had become intertwined with another woman's, and in that present instance, their little world seemed shattered.

She was broken; her heart a shattered glass that seemed to match the way her eyes reflected her sadness. He paused outside the window of her presence motionless, his expression faceless like that of one in a trance. Little did he know the gravity of the pain he was looking into.

He could see the petals of her broken heart had spread through her eyes, just like the petals carrying away into the abyss. He could feel her sullen figure absorbing the atmosphere. Her essence looked as profound as darkness--suffocating and deep; his vision of a broken picture, and her struggle through pain adverse and discrete.

He remained in place for a moment, his eyes affixed upon the broken beauty. He became disconnected, far away from the world but only close enough to make it more difficult to comprehend--for him to understand the depth of her sorrow. Yet only silence held between the two, and as he tried to extend a report, the wall between them did not yield.

Just as the fallen petals of her broken glass heart, her eyes catches his. He stops momentarily, stopping at the windowed portal, without even a smile.

She felt a warmth leave her chest as he reached for the red velvet curtains. His visage began to fade from her view. That warmth vanished completely when his act became clear. She knew then that nothing but stale air floated between them. He was moving away, one arm length at a time. Her dream, the one she had worked so hard for, was rapidly deflating. He was no longer hers.

With that, she allows the shards of roses to fall.

#short story #micro shorts #fiction #romance #unrequited love #stories #short fiction #shorts #writing #creative writing #flash fiction #heartbreak #roses #sad stories #heartbroken #shards of glass #short reads

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lorenzoberni · 7 months

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Images made witnessing the final adjustment made by Patrick McDowell and their team before the fashion show ss 24 took place. I was moving in between spaces of silence, concentration and beauty while magic in the making was happening.

#lorenzoberni #london #patrickmcdowell #fitting #shard #shards of glass #shard london #fitting fashion #atelier series

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tenth-sentence · 1 year

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They threw temper tantrums, hurled plates, smashed windows, and cut themselves with shards of glass.

"The Body Keeps the Score: Mind, brain and body in the transformation of trauma" - Bessel van der Kolk

#book quote #the body keeps the score #bessel van der kolk #nonfiction #temper tantrum #plates #windows #smash #broken #glass #shards of glass #sh

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taxi-davis · 1 year

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#smash #by #Jazzberry Blue #art #blue #window #blood #broken window #smashed window #broken glass #shards of glass #minimalism #art print #poster

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sunandflame · 6 months

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Shards of Glass, Chapter 8

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 1745

Warning: domestic issues (not abuse)

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

This was bad. This was really really bad. She tried her best to suppress the tears, but they continued to stream down her cheeks even after she managed to barricade herself in the toilet stall. Why now? Why here? She tried to think of several explanations, but there were none. She didn't know why she reacted so extremely to it. It was her who rejected him. Her, who saw his heart break into tiny pieces at her words. And yet she felt her throat tightening, her own heart breaking just like his as if there was an invisible connection between them both.

The argument with Kenji didn't make things any better as it only added more stress to her. She didn't want to go home because she knew there would just be a new argument. A new reason to fight. She felt terribly alone and needed to talk to someone about it.

She calmed down eventually, washed away her tears at the sink to look somewhat decent again and decided that she had to find Giyuu.

She found him immediately. Luckily he was alone in the sports hall and was cleaning up the equipment from class. He immediately felt her presence and turned to face her. His eyes widened when he saw her and concern was written in his otherwise expressionless gaze. There were no remnants left of her tears and yet he was able to sense that there was something wrong with her. They weren't best friends and cousins for nothing. As soon as he asked the question, “What happened?”, her tears started anew and she threw herself into his arms.

Confused and overwhelmed by this outburst of her emotions, he was at first taken aback until he gently put his arms around her and let her cry on his chest. He didn't say a word though it wasn't necessary. Giyuu's calm manner, which always reminded her of still water, calmed her immensely and when her tears dried up, she took a step back to look at him again.

“I messed up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”

In short words she told him everything that had happened so far. “And he just confessed to me and it made everything more complicated.”

“How so? Did you not reject him? You have a boyfriend that you love, right?” Giyuu's pragmatic question stopped her in her tracks.

Did she love Kenji? The fact that she hesitated at this question was actually very self-explanatory.

She remained silent and saw Giyuu sigh. “Then let me ask you another way: Do you love Rengoku?”

Another awkward silence that gave them the answer he wanted. She couldn't deny it and yet she couldn't confirm it. She belonged to Kenji but- “You know how long Kenji and I have been together. I don't want to throw away all these years just because of-" She interrupted herself, not daring to say it. “You’ve known Kenji for as long as I have! We were all in one class together back then. Do you even like him?”

“I don’t hate him.” Giyuu’s answer was short.

“But you don’t like him?”

“He doesn’t fit with you.” He saw her surprised face at his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, Y/N, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide this on your own. The only thing I can say is that you love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years.”

~ ~ ~

She layed in bed, her gaze turned briefly to Kenji, who had his back turned to her. They had finally managed to talk to each other without it ending in an argument, but the situation didn't feel good either. Giyuu's words were circling in her mind. You love Rengoku more than you loved Kenji in all these years. Was that true? There was an undeniable and unique connection between the two of them. Something unexplainable. She hadn't forgotten the feeling she had when they first met. The constant feeling of deja vu had not subsided. She had only successfully pushed it aside.

Her hand reached for the metal of the Water Lily pendant on her collarbone and she sighed deeply. She should try to sleep. Tomorrow was also a day. That was her last thought before she spiraled into a dream that she thought she had long forgotten.

There were actually several dreams and impressions that bombarded her. So many feelings overwhelmed her. Fear, happiness, desire and sadness. Infinite sadness at the end. She woke up with a slight startle and immediately looked around. 4:34 a.m. Kenji was still asleep, but Shimizu, her black cat, had noticed her restlessness and had jumped onto her lap, purring, brushing her fluffy face against her own to show her affection. She gently stroked her back and scratched her head, trying to sort through the many impressions that created a chaos that echoed in her head. She tried to sort them out.

"You probably saw my father in me. He was the former Flame Hashira."

"We can train together if you want! You can be my Tsuguko!"

"Hating yourself only gets you so far, be proud that you survived."

“But you don't need to be afraid of him as long as I'm with you."

"You are not alone in this. I won't allow that, so share your pain with me."

“Y/N! I love you and I would be happy if you could become my girlfriend!”

"If you keep it up like that you'll surpass me, my water lily! Or should I call you now my little flame?

"You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily..."

"Yes, we will always stay together..."

"When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful."

"I will see you in heaven, my love."

She hadn't even noticed the tears running down her cheeks as she pulled Shimizu close, letting them fall silently into her fur. She finally knew how she recognized Kyojuro, but all the remaining impressions from her dream gave her a headache and she needed a quiet minute to think about them.

Still, the realization hit her hard. Did she understand that correctly? Kyojuro and her knew each other from a past life? Or was her brain playing games? But how would someone then explain the connection? Or what happened when they first touched in the car the other day, after the drinking party. The vision of him gently kissing her knuckles just to pull her into a passionate kiss. That wasn't wishful thinking back then, no.

‘You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily…’ Was that the reason why she bought that necklace back then? Not because of that sweet memory she had as a child with Giyuu but because of that? Was that the reason why Kyojuro was so fixated on it too? He must have known it! The universe had known, but she had remained clueless until now. The headache got worse and she looked out the window that announced the sunrise. She'd better get ready for work.

~ ~ ~

School life was weird, but it was like that every Friday. She didn't avoid Kyojuro, but they didn't meet either. Her feelings were renewed in chaos and she didn't know what to do next. During her break she decided to take a walk to clear her head, but she kept wondering what she should do next. She considered the situation from every angle but couldn't come to a conclusion that wouldn't rip the heart out of a particular party.

She stopped briefly and looked at the cloudless sky. "What would you do?" She asked it out loud. A question she didn’t ask herself but to her past self. She seemed to have known everything better and was able to make difficult decisions. She sighed, she hadn't been really waiting for an answer in the first place? She was about to turn around when a sudden gust of wind blew through her hair and a heart-shaped leaf landed on her face. Puzzled, she took the leaf off her face and looked at it and knew what she had to do.

~ ~ ~

Never in her life did she expect to end up in such a situation. In a situation where she was wandering around homeless and watching the sun go down. Well, she had to blame herself for it, but it had all happened so quickly.

She wanted to have a rational conversation with Kenji - she was also able to, to a certain extent, until she brought the topic up. The topic that involved that things no longer worked between them. The terrible accusations and things she had to listen to. The accusations that she’d cheated on him and many more. She would never do such things and if he would not be so filled with anger and jealousy he would realize it. It quickly turned into a loud argument that got so bad that she simply grabbed her jacket and left their shared apartment.

It hadn't felt like home in a while and it still hurt. She walked aimlessly for a long time to clear her head until she came to a park bench and sat down. Now the tears flowed and her vision blurred until she felt something soft against her leg. She was startled and quickly wiped away her tears only to see that Shimizu had followed her this far and was meowing at her worriedly.

“Shimizu, you loyal soul…” Renewed tears flowed as she picked her up and pressed her face into her warm, soft fur. It felt so good to know that she wasn't alone. Y/N didn’t realize how the time passed by when it suddenly started to rain.

Shimizu’s desperate meowing worried her. Without a second thought she took off her coat and placed it over her to protect her from the rain. She took the cat in her arms and started running in a random direction.

The streets soon became familiar and there was only one person who happened to live nearby.

Drenched from the rain she stood at the threshold and pressed the buzzer. Kyojuro opened the door with a smile that dropped quickly into a surprised face. He probably did not expect her here, at this hour. “Hi…” She breathed while she stared back at him. “Could you take in two strays who got caught up in the rain?”

A/N: Hello my sweethearts... This story will take a little break and won't be updated weekly anymore. I was able to queue them as I had the chapters prepared beforehand but you know how irl things can turn your muse low. That doesn't mean I won't continue or finish this series! It will just be slower in the future. I hope you all can forgive me than I left you hanging with this cliffhanger.

I know I said I won't do a tagging list, but that was because this story had a regular schedule. So if you want to be tagged into the next chapter, than let me please know in the replies down below.

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green-grey-n-glitched · 9 days

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♡

⚪️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️ | ATTRACTION

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚫️ | AFFECTION

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ | INTEREST

⚪️⚪️⚫️⚫️⚫️ | LOYALTY

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚫️ | TRUST

-🗡

#playing with the mask #shards of glass #antisepticeye ask blog #antisepticeye

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konglindorm · 10 months

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Apparently there’s a standard color palette for Snow Queen retellings. Which we did not follow. Oh well.

Books pictured are Jenny Prater’s Shards of Glass, T. Kingfisher’s The Raven and the Reindeer, Danielle Paige’s Stealing Snow, Anna Ursu’s Breadcrumbs, and Cameron Dokey’s Winter’s Child.

Shards of Glass is coming soon! More information at jennyprater.com

#shards of glass #fairy tales #books #fairy tale retellings #wax heart press #my writing #hans christian andersen #the snow queen #new release

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iowriteswords · 9 months

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So many projects going on right now, so I thought I’d do a quick update.

Shards of Glass: novel written under the name Jenny Prater, about a girl crossing fairyland in search of her missing friend. Based on The Snow Queen. Coming out September 26, preorders open now, working on lots of promo stuff.

When Pinioned Birds Take Flight: currently ongoing Batfic.

Who Shall Make the Clown Laugh?: upcoming fic, fully written, will be shared in a few weeks, 1ch, 11k, follows Earth 3 Talon!Dick and Duela Dent.

On that note, the Duela Dent blog series that’s sort of on hold for now, but will pick up again.

Bird and Bee: upcoming fic following Earth 3 Talon!Jason at his new home in Earth 11, currently working on chapter 4 out of an estimated 5.

Untitled Talon!Cass and Lady Shiva story, currently in very early planning stages.

The Shoemaker Prince: this short story collection came out 2 years ago, but I’m currently putting the finishing touches on a second edition. The plan was originally just to reformat and correct some errors in the text, but the reformatting dramatically decreased the page count, so I ended up adding 3 more stories.

When the War Ends: my current novel which I set aside at 65k to focus on Pinioned, but I’m definitely gonna get back to it soon.

Take Off Your Happy Face: fic following Harley and Tim in Joker Junior aftermath, was supposed to be my next fic project, after finishing When the War Ends, then Pinioned, then another novel, but somehow it’s happening now.

Silence: the aforementioned another novel, about a mermaid; I’m 12 chapters in but have set it aside until finishing at least When the War Ends and Pinioned.

Untitled Flightless Birds part 4: I’ve written a few scenes for this, but it’s mostly a project for later. However, I’ve had to do a lot of outlining for it already because it takes place in the main flightless birds world at the same time as Pinioned, so timelines have to match up since Tim is making phone calls into the Pinioned world. Currently brainstorming for titles including words flight, flown, flying, etc. Will feature new characters including Bart, Kara, and maybe Sin.

#my writing #batman #batfic #batman fanfiction #writing #batman fanfic #flightless birds #shards of glass #the shoemaker prince #silence

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