“Every story has a value. It is a story that is interesting to some people and salvation for others.”
mythumbsdontwork — but call me silred :)
currently trying to get into orv (i love it but my schedule doesn't approve me reading constantly), love reading comic superheroes and manhwa. trying my hand at writing from all the watching and reading i've been doing. requests are open :)
what i will write:
female/gender neutral reader
wlw
found family
hurt/comfort
angst/fluff
platonic
romantic
what i don't write
noncon/dub
male readers (sorry, i just can't write for male ;-;)
specified readers? (i might misrepresent them)
yandere content
character x character (really depends, but generally nope)
characters i write for:
DC characters:
bruce wayne
clark kent
diana prince
hal jordan
dick grayson
jason todd
wally west
damian wayne
Genshin Impact:
capitano
zhongli
neuvillette
wriothesley
Honkai Star Rail:
dr ratio
aventurine
jingyuan
dan heng
sunday
blade
feixiao
(i'll update this list as I go, if a character or fandom isn't here than just ask I'll see if I can write :))
is it normal to feel scared when writing for a character? kinda been stuck with ideas for characters i genuinely love but just can't bring myself to write them out bc im scared of messing their characters up
synopsis: the quiet mornings you spend with your husband prove to be one of the most precious moments that you could capture
genre: fluff, angst
word count: ~1k
a/n: this one's a bit short, i hope you enjoy :))
The warm rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, beckoning you to wake up from your slumber and face the day ahead. Honestly? It was nice waking up to this rather than the cold unforgiving rain. But your bed felt a little too comfortable — the mattress too soft, the blankets too cozy and Thrain's embrace too comfortable. You nuzzled your face further into your husband's chest, unwilling to face the day ahead.
You wanted to cherish this, just for a bit longer.
Then you heard it — a chuckle from the man holding you like you were his lifeline. It was deep and rich, and you couldn't help but melt as the sweet sound vibrated off his chest.
"What are you laughing at?" You let out an indignant huff against his somehow cold skin that contrasted with the warmth the blankets provided the two of you. He always ran cold. You searched for his hands instinctively, slowly peeling them off your torso to instead intertwine them with your own.
"Nothing… Just admiring how affectionate you are this morning."
He gently lifted your intertwined hands to hover in-between your faces, the matching golden bands that wrapped around both of your ring fingers glinted as it caught the light streaming into the room. Without missing a beat, he leaned slightly forward and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. A habit that you couldn't really get over with despite the years you spent together with him.
You felt your heart pounding just slightly faster, how your cheeks warmed not from the sunlight but from the press of his lips. You saw how the corners of his mouth turned upwards, a small smile etched across his face. Smug bastard still likes teasing you and it annoys you how easy it was for him. And yet… You don't think you could get over him. How could you?
Thrain was beautiful.
His silky hair reminded you of the night skies that the two of you often walked under. Sometimes you two would talk about how your days went, but sometimes you two just enjoyed the shared silence. Laying down with the distant stars twinkling in the wide canvas of the sky and the soft patch of grass beneath your bodies as you two were surrounded by inteyvats and forget-me-nots.
His face looked like it was sculpted by the finest artists in Khaenri'ah. In fact, if you didn't know any better you would've assumed he was a descendant of one of the heavenly beings the world seemed to worship. The best part of this sculpture though is the fact that his smile never failed to make you feel lighter. It's the way he creases in his brows whenever he's particularly confounded by something like the time he got stumped by a kid calling him old.
Then his eyes. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue you ever saw. You could easily get lost in them, like how the ocean waves sweeps up anything on the shore. Those same eyes that hardened in the face of his fellow knights always softened in the face of you or children. Despite being one of the most intimidating commanders (according to the other knights serving the royal family), he was always greeted by a group of children whenever he made his rounds through the city. They would often bug him to tell them stories, and of course he complied. In fact, it was on one of these storytelling sessions that you met him.
"I love you."
"I know."
You raised an eyebrow at his response. Years of courting and marriage and he stills retains the same response.
"Y'know, most husbands actually say it back."
Thrain lets out a small huff of amusement, the edge of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly.
"I love you."
"That's better."
The warmth of mornings like these was what kept you going. Moments frozen in time — soft, fleeting, and painfully precious now.
You'd give anything to feel that warmth again.
Because those blue eyes would never open again.
The words from the people around you filter in and out of your ears. Their words were jumbled and the world felt so distant from you that the stone steps against your knees didn't quite hurt despite how long you've been kneeling. The coldness of the ice around the throne that your husband sat upon didn't prick your skin, at least you didn't feel it.
Your husband is selfless.
So selfless in fact that he would put his life at stake just to save people. It was the same selflessness that drew you to him wasn't it? The way he bought the kids snacks to munch on during their meet-ups, the way he would stay back late to help out new recruits who went to him for advice, the way he would constantly ensure your safety and comfort above his own.
You remembered teasing him all those years ago, saying how he's going to give away too much that there might not be anything left of him.
Now, compared to your husband, you were selfish.
You were selfish in the way that you wanted his hugs to last forever, that you wanted to hear his voice as he tells you about his day, that you just wanted to be by his side until the end of times. You were selfish, so much so that there's a part of your heart that resents Thrain for leaving you behind.
"Idiot… you promised I'd never be alone."
You muttered softly, your eyes finally parting from the sight of your unmoving on the throne down to the ground.
It hurts that you knew he wouldn't respond anymore.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was warm.
"Your husband made a noble sacrifice and he won't be forgotten."
The pyro archon, Mavuika, stood beside you. She was the one that was supposed to be on the throne but your husband took her place because he believed she would lead the nation into a brighter tomorrow. Seeing her dedication? You believed it too.
"Take as much time as you need." The red-haired archon walked away, giving you space.
She didn't elaborate, she didn't need to. You appreciated it.
When the dust settles, all that is left is the lingering silence. Love that has so much too say but no audience to bear witness. You knew Thrain wouldn't like it if you stayed like this. So, for him, you would continue on with this weight until you breathe your last breath and finally meet him again.
Yes, you were grieving. But what is love if not love persevering?
a/n: a request by @seonhours
sorry if it's a bit short or not as polished, I just got started on writing again after a few weeks of me getting sick, going to a compulsory camp and doing a research competition
there will be more to come (lord I should get started on the jinu fic)
Jinu presents himself as the leader of the group in an attempt to shield the others from Gwi-ma’s wrath. He views the other Saja Boys as his family. He is a bit of a sassy bastard (that one moment of him dusting off his shoulder after making eye contact with Rumi and being all smug was a great moment to me) (I need more of him just subtly sassing people like that).
Beomseok tends to snore when he’s in a deep sleep, and his friends will lightheartedly joke about it. He will go for early morning runs because he likes the quiet, it helps him clear his head. He tends to be a bit of a goofball at times, but he is usually the one who eases the tension amongst the group.
Daeun loves spicy food and has the highest spice tolerance out of all of them (feels canon since he easily won that hot sauce contest). He adds so much spicy sauce to his food that if anyone else tried it, it would completely scorch their tastebuds. He has a very big vocal range, being able to go from a more high-pitched voice to his deeper rapping voice. He sometimes likes to prank people with it.
Jae-Hyun goes by “Jae” with his friends. He wears a face mask to sleep, and he is the one who has a 13-step hair care/skin care routine. He has more of a sweet tooth than a love of spicy food (medium level spicy will KO him easily) (it was his suggestion to name their first debuted song “Soda Pop”).
Garam rarely speaks when he isn’t singing and that fact that his hair covers most of his face can make him hard to read. Though, it’s not because he’s shy. Though, the other sajas always seem to understand him anyway. Will send oddly specific memes that he finds on social media to his friends.
quick kpop demon hunters gifs (of jinu bc i was making a layout to match with my friend nes)
*also idk how to make it so his eyes are appropriately neon yellow in some of these </3
feel free to use for whatever
edit: I FORGOT TO REMOVE A FRAME RFROM ONE OF THESE (kicks rock)
heres a longer version of the like. two scenes i also have individual gifs of. smiles (i used this for my banner)
a lot happened, and i ended up being busy catching up on irl stuff
that next part is already done, but i kinda feel unsatisfied with it
i felt like i didn't really put my all into it since it was written in the little moments inbetween things i had to do and my interests shifted within this inactivity period
sorry for making you guys who are reading this waiting
might post smt fluffy after this as compensation (can't promise it's related to dc tho) while that next part is in the works
(have this picture as a show of appreciation for sticking around to read this)
as someone who’s FIRMLY in the “i’m in love with yjh” camp, it’s really wild for me to see that the mass majority of ppl in this fandom seem to be in the “i’m in love with kdj” camp
thinking about how much i love yjh again cause like. he cares SO MUCH actually. that’s the Issue. that’s the Thing. he cares so so so deeply. its a part of his very being. he cares, he gets attached, he starts to love, and that’s all so tightly interwoven into himself that when he loses someone it feels like he’s being ripped apart. he experiences that pain so strongly that he comes to the conclusion that it would hurt less to never care at all. that’s the state he’s in before meeting kdj. he resolved himself to not get attached to just keep going alone. he put up barriers around his heart so no one could get in because he was desperate never to feel the pain of loss ever again.
and kdj pretty much forced his way past those barriers and left a path behind him for others to get in too. and you can TELL yjh is just WAITING for that pain to come he’s waiting to lose someone again…but then it doesn’t happen. they keep meeting. they keep crossing paths. they keep getting closer. no one’s died yet. people have usually died by now. what’s going on? he’s confused he’s frustrated and barely - just barely - he’s hopeful. maybe this round will be different. maybe this round the pain won’t come.
except, suddenly, it Does. and he thinks he’s lost the very person who had protected him - protected all of them - from that pain this entire time. the one who made the spark of hope flicker in his chest. the pain literally throws him into a blind rage. and the thing is this keeps. happening. he keeps losing but its the same person and it hurts just as much each damn time.
it baffles me that people think yjh doesn’t care, or is cold, or is unaffected. this is a man that loved so deeply that - in a previous round, in the midst of a world of ruin and despair - he started a family. you think he doesn’t care? this is man who hoped so strongly that for YEARS he keeps paying to send out message after message knowing he wouldn’t get a response but hoping it would happen anyways. and you think he’s cold? this is a man who crossed the multiverse and risked existential death over and over and over again just for the infinitesimal possibility of waking up kdj - of bringing someone home again. and people think he’s unaffected?
"To you who has carried the weight of the world, find your deserved rest at the end of your journey."
summary: (2.4k words) In his last moments before the Ruler of Death, Capitano recalled memories of his past. In his efforts to fulfill his duty from start to end, there was always someone to ground him —you.
notes: centered around capitano instead of x reader (im sorry i got side tracked ;-;), no beta reader, rusty writing skills
"May I know your name?" The old man gazed up to the First of the Fatui Harbingers, eyes crinkling adding to the faint wrinkles on his face with a warm smile to accompany it.
"Th-" He caught himself. Right, he was a Fatui.
"Capitano is just fine." The captain responded, his gruff voice regaining its composure as he recovered from the mistake.
It's been centuries since he has gone by that name, known as the First of the Fatui Harbingers, and yet Natlan manages to brings about an familiar yet distant feeling that made him forget of that fact. As soon as he set foot in the land of the sun, the people's resolve burning ever-brightly to protect their lands against the Abyss made his feel heart sting.
Perhaps it was how much Natlan reminded him of home, where he wasn't Il Capitano, First of the Fatui Harbingers — but Thrain, commander of the Knights of Khaenri'ah.
Natlan reminded him of the warm breeze brushing against his skin as he patrols around the kingdom. Of the children's laughter as they played with the simple yet intricately designed toys of the bygone days. Of his own men in arms as they made their rounds in their sectors to serve the crown and the people.
The memories of Khaenri'ah of the past would never leave his mind. He still remembers of the day the King commended him of his performance with the modified heart bestowed upon him.
"Your new heart has limitless potential," the King began, his watchful gaze studying Thrain as he bowed before the man in front of him. He remembers how the cold temperature of the marble floor seeped through his uniform. How he kept still under the eyes of his King, his position of kneeling on one knee never once faltering.
"and you have wielded it with bravery and honor." The King continued on, perhaps had he looked up to him, he could've caught a glimpse of a smile on the older man's face — one of pride.
"I grant you the title of Sentinel Knight." He remembered that this was the moment where he got his command, to lead his troops to protect the kingdom with their entire being.
"Like the four pillars of strength, you will continue to safeguard the glory of Khaenri'ah."
The glory of Khaenri'ah...
It was his duty it protect the kingdom, its people at all costs.
"Our land, our dignity, and every comrade that has fought alongside us."
These words would echo in his mind for as long as he continued his duties.
Especially during the apocalypse, the Cataclysm.
He remembers when the his world crumbled before his very eyes.
The day when the hellish creatures of the Abyss flooded Khaenri'ah and purged the kingdom of its light.
He remembers the helpless screams of citizens as all knights fought to defend the streets. Children hiding and families desperately trying to defend themselves against the ungodly creatures that reeked of death and corruption. Pools of crimson and ink black filled the kingdom in a furious tide, it was a grueling bloodbath. Wherever he looked, fire seemed to grow in all directions, its fumes coloring the would-be-skies in a shade of black and grey.
The moment the Seven Archons of Teyvat sent from above destroyed the kingdom, it ultimately eradicated most of the Abyssal creatures, and nothing was left of Khaenri'ah except for a curse.
Celestia was truly despicable.
He remembers walking through the ruble.
Many were killed, not even women and children were safe. His men were no different. His comrades he fought with and the men he trained himself paid their lives to protect the kingdom they devoted their lives to. In the aftermath, perhaps death was the easier route.
He looked at the spared men, the light in their eyes dimmed that day. They were searching in the leftover destruction for their loved ones. Hands were desperately digging the debris, attempting to find any semblance of life as their tears wet the ground. In the aftermath of the bloodbath, only silence remained as the dust settled on the devastation of what was once a glorious kingdom.
Every survivor was lost. Each had a distant look in their eyes, fragments of their hearts in their bloodied palms there for all to see. All of them lost their only home and their loved ones. What does it mean to live when there was nothing to live for?
It was clear, nobody has a the strength to go on. So, he decided. He would be that strength for them, for it was his duty. For as long as he live, he would never allow himself to be exempted of his sworn oath —to safeguard the glory of Khaenri'ah. When all that is left of their kingdom is ruin, then they would be the ones carrying the flame of honor of Khaenri'ah.
Thus, he continued his journey, leaving behind the wreckage of his homeland, to seek answers and to avenge those who lost their lives.
Time seems to drag on as they made their passage across Teyvat.
Every day brings its own set of challenges, both new and unfamiliar.
He recalls the first time he and his men surfaced from the ruins to the world above, where Archons oversaw most of Teyvat.
The warm sun of Liyue hitting their skin as well as the stronger breeze from Liyue was a start. The terrain in the Land of Monoliths were riddled with towering mountains and steep valleys.
Then there was Sumeru. H remembers when he and his men got drenched under the heavy rain of Sumeru. The thick forests full of life near its capital contrasted greatly with the never-ending dunes of sand to its west where nearly nothing survived save for a few villages and wild creatures.
Something they both shared was how all of them seemed to be impervious to the Abyss. Perhaps it was the work of their Archons.
Last was Natlan.
There, he came across the Night Kingdom and just when he arrived, the Abyss had worm its way between the cracks of the earth, laying siege on kingdom of beyond.
His duties were far from over.
With the native tribe and his men, he fought for the Night Kingdom. He wasn't going to let this kingdom fall prey to the Abyss. He was not going to let history repeat itself in front of his eyes.
Yet it wasn't enough.
No matter, how much he tried...
It wasn't enough.
"The Night Kingdom is almost destroyed," he remembered a man say.
"Our fallen soldiers, your comrades... They have nowhere to go."
Even more of his men fell in this pursuit, the curse put a heavy toll on their souls and bodies. He noticed how all their bodies were slowly decaying, it started with a small patch of obsidian skin with vessels of glowing like lapis that stung slightly. For some, it wasn't as bad. For others, it was horrifying. His men fought well, death was a well-deserved gift of their unwavering will.
His calloused hands let go of his bloody sword, unceremoniously clanking on the ground, forgotten.
He made his way to his righthand man, eyes closed and laid on the ground peacefully, as if he was simply drifting to the land of dreams. Had he not have blood pooling under his body, perhaps he would have thought that.
Thrain had a hand over the man's chest, right above his heart.
He closed his eyes and felt his soul merge with his heart.
He felt the agony, despair the man felt until the end of his life.
It hurt and it felt heavy.
But it wasn't over, many were dead and had nowhere to go.
"What are you doing?!" The man asked the solemn commander, watching in disbelief.
"Are you taking all of their souls with you?!"
The man hoped the Khaenri'an could hear his pleas. No man could handle the pain bore by hundreds alone. He would go insane. The commander did not deserve this that fate.
"You're just an ordinary person, you can't bear that kind of burden!"
His shock quickly turned to frustration as the quiet outlander continued to gather the souls of the fallen into his being, as if he didn't hear his words, not heeding any of his pleas.
"No hero should have to wander alone." Thrain stated simply, eyes focused on the men he lost. They were true heroes of Khaenri'ah.
He had his back towards the man as he stood up, the weight of souls making it harder to move, harder to breathe and frankly it was hard to even think.
It was suffocating.
But he had to.
He could not leave these valiant men to an undeserving death, they deserved a proper one. One where their souls did not have to wander the earth alone in search of something that was long gone.
Days passed, then months, then years.
Seasons changed, though he could hardly tell when he moved to Snezhnaya. It's bleak landscape was only ever of snow and ice every time he looked out the window. Walking through the snow had only show it more clearly when the eternal permafrost grew in every direction.
Under her majesty the Tsaritsa, he was offered a position and an abode. "To seize authority from the Gods," that was the goal that the Director of the Fatui told him. Considering their own resentment towards Celestia, he agreed.
It was... difficult.
With every glance at the mirror in his room, he noticed the changes on his body. His body was decaying, centuries left him unrecognizable to himself when he looked at a mirror. Unnatural obsidian skin covered most of his torso and nearly half of his face. The curse of immortality. Celestia's personal death-mark and yet it wasn't the worst part of the curse – it was the voices.
He could hear them constantly.
Wailing. Screaming. Weeping.
An overflowing tide of sorrow and despair. Its intensity was one that only hundreds of people with a lost home could generate.
There was also anger.
A fire that could never dim, fueled by rage and hatred from having their hearts ripped out from their chests by an omnisicient god from above.
They were never quiet, incessantly tormenting him with imaginary whispers and shouts in his mind.
Nights were a time to retire the mind, but he would always find it hard to return in the solace of sleep. Loud voices of the lost were ringing in his psyche, begging for rest.
But while solace in the arms of slumber was something he could not reach, he was comforted by a single voice in his mind.
One that reminded him of the sweet-scented flowers of Inteyvat wreaths in his home. One that reminded him of the paradise he found when returning to a warm cup of tea and a book. One that reminded him of the times he could come home to the arms of the woman he loved the most — you.
You, who caught his eye when he first patrolled around the kingdom as a rookie.
You, who gave him sweets and pastries from the bakery you worked in as a "thank you" for his service.
You, who always managed to make time to talk to him in the middle of your shifts and gave him a sweet laugh that tugged the end of his lips into a smile after he tried (and failed) to muster a joke.
You, who told him "I love you" under the warm flickering lights of the kingdom one night as he was walking you back home.
You, who loved him so much that you accepted his proposal to marry you after a few years of courting you.
You, who made his place feel more at home with small trinkets on his bookshelves, fresh Inteyvats in vases and the continuous scent of freshly baked bread from the kitchen.
You, who were unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of attack during the Cataclysm and passed.
You were the first soul he carried in his journey. You deserved a far better end than the bitter destruction of your home. For that, he carried your gentle soul until he found a suitable place of rest.
And now he had the chance to achieve it. For you and for the comrades who had given their lives.
"Using immortality to fight death..."
The unearthly voice echoed within the realm of night.
Capitano steeled his eyes to the sight of the eerie jet-black and crimson eyes in the rip formed within the sky, studying him as power surging within lifted debris and rocks from the ground.
"Using my rules against me..."
The voice continued, the skies' hue turning to one of crimson, reminiscent of the bloodshed he had witnessed in his life.
"Make your choice, reject your rules or allow me to trigger the paradox."
The only form of acknowledgement he would give.
The grip on his sword tightens, the plume of death following closely to his person. He does not plan to back down and he does not plan to negotiate his terms any further.
Crimson eyes flickered around to analyze the Harbinger, clouds of the same hue swirling around the deity, awaiting their decision.
"... The curse of immortality must stand," Ronova concluded, "Use it to fulfill your final wish."
With that Capitano walked towards the Throne of Primal Fire.
The Snezhnayan Fatui Harbinger's boots echoed against the stone stairs up the singular throne, a final walk towards his end. The air around him began to grow frigid, mists of ice followed him as well as the souls he carried with him for the last hundreds of years.
He could hear them more clearly now. They were more at ease, content.
"Well fought, my Lord."
Multiple chains hanging from his uniform and coat clanked on his armor as he made his way up.
"Thank you for everything."
His ebony hair flowed behind him as he tightened his blackened-ice sword in his clutch, ready to fulfill his final duty.
"This time, let's go together."
He felt the power coursing through him as he grew the tainted ice around the throne, ice beginning to cover the steps of stairs he had walked. As he reached the top, he sat down on the throne. His loyal sword planted to the ground beside him with his right as the ice grew to cover nearly the entirety of the throne.
"You've done so much... It's time to rest, love."
Thrain felt gentle hands on his shoulder, a familiar scent of Inteyvats invading his senses. Even with closed eyes, he knew it was your soul calling for him. He has done what he has promised and now, he received the greatest gift that could ever be bestowed upon him — a blissful rest.
Thank you for reading till the end :)
Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and the images used don't belong to me, found them from pinterest
i got like a fic idea based on would you fall in love with me again without realizing it was actually inspired by it until i wrote it down and tried to find a quote for it
i think the last saga fr broke me
i saw another acc talking abt a similar idea when i just finished with the outline
capitano having a wife, losing her to the cataclysm, and her being one of the sole reasons he was still going for 500 years and then finally meeting again after the natlan quest
-me as I look at the amount of planned fics i have in storage for characters of completely different fandoms
pov: me looking at my sleeping schedule as i was abt to sacrifice it to write fics for my dopamine bc it's the cheapest possible option for happiness rn
