#prompt 14

[healerstail]

Free Time

[writersisland]

"But... he always seemed like such a gentleman."

"He did. He just wasn't a gentle man."

[amalthea-felsblood]

"To the victor go the spoils."

[jjk-kinkmeme]

Since I have once again gotten lost in a tag- Yuuji bitching Gojo

Up to author as to which of them started it

Prompt #14

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 14

Finished this one for @jilytoberfest a little bit late again! This is the second fluffy prompt I've somehow turned into a sad little fic (oops, lol). Hope you enjoy regardless!

October 14th Prompt: Surprise Party!!!

Excepting the faint scurry of autumn leaves against the windowpane, the neighborhood had fallen silent. Lily Potter, curled beneath a blanket in the window nook, nursed a cuppa and watched as the lit foyers of Godric's Hollow winked one by one into sleepy darkness.

"Trick or treaters all done?" James was walking across the sitting room toward her, Harry on his hip. Lily nodded.

"I think the last couple went in a few minutes ago. It was a rowdy bunch." James joined her on the sill, and Harry — nappy freshly changed — toddled over onto Lily's lap. She hugged him close.

"Any good costumes?" James took the mug from her hand, saving Harry from the risk of jostled tea, and stole a sip.

Lily shrugged. "None as good as ours, last year."

"That's hardly a fair comparison."

Lily grinned. It had been her idea to take Harry out the Muggle way for his first Halloween, but it was James who'd been the mastermind behind the costuming. Leaning as far as he could into the theme, he'd donned a coat and tails, transfigured his wand to look sleek and plasticky (a tricky bit of magic, especially since he'd needed to borrow Lily's to cast the spell), and spent the night performing increasingly impossible card tricks in costume as a Muggle magician. They'd dressed three-month-old Harry as Godric's Hollow's cutest bunny rabbit, popping out to amuse the neighbors from his hiding spot inside the Undetectable Extension Charm they'd cast on James's top hat.

In their pièce de résistance of minor illegality and major holiday delight, Lily had worn a sequined dress, carried a bloodied plastic saw, and tied the Cloak — wrapped and knotted until it was as thin as they could possibly make it — around her waist like a belt. James had winked and hinted vaguely about mirrors and illusions whenever a trick-or-treater wondered how he was keeping the lady in halves.

"Show-off."

"How else were we supposed to impress the neighbors?"

"Oh, of course." Lily's gaze trailed out the window again. "Do you think they noticed?"

"Hmm?"

"That we weren't there."

James squeezed her knee. "Reckon they might have. We'll dazzle them next year."

"Right," Lily said, giving James a half-hearted smile. "Maybe we'll miss it, next year. You know, having the excuse for a quiet holiday."

James gave her the same sad smile in return. It was an expression that the two of them had grown very familiar with. "A quiet holiday has its perks." He leaned across the window nook, pressing a soft kiss to Lily's forehead, then to Harry's. She sat up, finding his mouth with her own.

Outside the cottage, there was a crunch of footsteps in the autumn leaves.

They froze.

Lily pulled back, staring at her husband in sudden fear. Where was her wand? Where was his? They'd been cooking dinner...they'd had their wands in the kitchen...

A knock at the front door.

James pulled Lily to her feet, half-guiding, half-pushing her toward the hall. She stumbled away from him, their barely-formed plan echoing urgently in her head. Get Harry. Get out.

Clutching the baby in her arms, she rushed to the back door, shoving her feet into her tennis shoes. Waited with a hand on the doorknob as James investigated the threat. Her heart pounded in her throat. One moment. Two. Three.

"Lily!" James called, and hearing the tone of his voice, she exhaled. "Lily, it's okay!"

She took a breath and stepped tentatively back toward the sitting room. James had flung the front door wide open to reveal Peter Pettigrew — of course it was Peter, it could only have been Peter — standing in the threshold, dressed in his orange holiday robes and carrying four bags of groceries. "Surprise," he said, a bit sheepishly.

For a moment, Lily's eyes trailed over him with concern. Hadn't he been supposed to meet Sirius? But when he started to wilt beneath her gaze, she shook herself, giving him a smile of welcome. "Wormy! Come in!"

James took the bags out of his hands and strode into the kitchen. "Lily, look!" he said, smoothly upbeat, as if the presence of a friend had completely restored him from their brief shock of terror. "Wormtail brought us a Halloween party."

Indeed, he had. The bags were stuffed to the brim: bottles of pumpkin juice, cauldron cakes, sweets for Harry...

Lily gasped. "You brought Muggle candy, too! Oh, Wormy."

Peter smiled, more comfortably this time, and shrugged. "Thought you might need some supplies to get into the festive spirit."

James grinned. "We were just saying it was a bit too quiet in here."

"Look what else." With the air of a showman revealing his encore, Peter pulled a wrapped package from the bottom of the last grocery bag. James tore it open to reveal a tiny pirate suit — complete with a little cutlass and miniature parrot — clearly purchased for Harry from a Muggle shop. Peter laughed at Lily and James's shock and glee. "Merlin, I can tell you two have been cooped up."

"Oh, yeah, we're easily impressed now," James said, snorting. "Not seen much in the way of novelty over the past week or so." God, had it only been a week?

"This is so sweet," said Lily, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "This is why you're my favorite, Wormy."

He shot her a smile that was almost roguish. "I'm telling Padfoot."

"Tell him!"

"I will." Peter' smile faltered, and he twisted his sleeves in his hands. Lily frowned.

James, still holding the costume in his hands, walked around the table to take Harry from Lily. "I'm going to get Blackbeard dressed for the occasion. Don't start the party without me." He strode toward the bedroom, leaving Lily and Peter alone in the kitchen.

She studied him. With James gone upstairs, Wormtail was looking around the cottage almost aimlessly — taking in the room, Harry's toys on the floor, the Halloween treats piled up on the kitchen table.

"Pumpkin juice?"

"Oh, yes, thank you."

Lily walked to the cabinet, took out two glasses, and poured. "Wormy?"

"Hmm?"

"Is everything alright?" Peter looked at Lily nervously, but said nothing. "Did you see Padfoot?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "Yeah, I saw him about an hour ago."

"Is he okay?"

"Sirius? Oh, yeah. He's fine. Just wanted to check up on me."

"That's good to hear," Lily said. Peter didn't respond. "Did you tell him you were coming?"

Peter swallowed. "No, I— I didn't tell anyone. Nobody knows I'm here. I just...had the idea, and I thought...it would be nice..."

"It was nice, Wormy. This is really kind. Thank you."

He shook his head. "Don't mention it, Lily," he said, tugging at his sleeves again. "You're my friends. It was nothing."

But if the war had taught Lily anything, it was that friendship — that not being alone — was the furthest that any of them could possibly get from nothing. "Even still," she replied, squeezing his shoulder. "We really appreciate it."

Lily picked up the two glasses of pumpkin juice and walked them into the sitting room. Her empty mug — James must have abandoned it in his haste, when they'd first realized that somebody was coming up the path  — was lying on its side on the floor. She set the pumpkin juice on the coffee table and started over, meaning to clean up the spilled tea.

"Lily?" She paused, turning, at the change in Peter's voice. He was sitting on the sofa behind her, hunched, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. He took a deep breath, then looked up at her with sudden resolve. "I need to tell you something."

[pillow-anime-talk]

congrats on 4k, my fav writer! can i ask for buddha with fem!reader and number 14? it could be friends/lovers or something similar :) love you

# tags: scenario; strangers/?; a bit of comedy; fluff; size difference; human!reader; precious!reader; playful!buddha; ragnarok time; sfw

includes: female reader ft. buddha {ror}

author’s note: thank you so much, anonnie! love your idea so i hope you like it!

14. “Need some help, shortie?” 

Buddha loved to sit in nature surrounded by animals and plants, so exploring the gardens built in the arena was his favorite thing from the beginning of the first fight. He always sat under the trees with his favorite sweets, and sometimes he just took short naps; very often between conversations with other gods or the eldest Valkyrie and her younger sister.

Currently there was a battle between the most powerful sumo of the human world – Raiden Tameemon – and the god worshiped in India – Shiva. The Buddha was next, and his plan was slowly approaching its culmination. Before the fight, however, he wanted to rest and gather his thoughts, while enjoying a sweet snack in the form of a colorful lollipop, which he managed to smuggle.

Unfortunately (or not?), his favorite tree was taken. A young woman with a beautiful skin tone and a friendly-looking face was plucking juicy fruits in a shade of delicate purple mixed with pink from the huge plant. I would like to mention that she was not greedy and chose only very ripe fruit, ideal for harvesting. She had only three in her small basket and was trying to pick the last fruit, which unfortunately was much higher than she could reach. Her light dress looked really good on her body, while the jewelry decorating her neck and fingers perfectly emphasized the sparkle of her eyes and charming smile.

“Need some help, shortie?” The man stepped a little closer and glanced carefully at the petite woman.

When you turned around, he could have sworn you looked like a true goddess. You were just as beautiful – no – you were more beautiful than Aphrodite and definitely sweeter than the fruit in your hands. Your eyes expressed pure curiosity of the world, and your lips were twisted in a sincere, even childish smile. The necklace jumped slightly as you turned to your interlocutor, then greeted him with a slight bow.

“Only if you want... I’ll gladly accept your help.” You spoked timidly, causing the fair-haired sage only to nod. He quickly reached the beautiful plum from the branch and handed it to you. He was curious about you and really wondered who you were. After all, he had never met such a beautiful goddess before. Which religion were you from? “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Buddha.” He said softly, looking at you even more closely. Your voice as beautiful as the singing of nightingales in the morning, and the blush on your cheeks resembled juicy strawberries. “What pantheon are you from?” He asked curiously, and you only frowned, putting the fruit gently into a dark-colored wicker basket. Then you shook your head.

“Oh. I fight for humanity.” You replied with amusement, causing him mixed feelings. He was surprised; he did not expect that humanity has such beautiful women, and also so modest and delicate in her manner. “You may not know me because I died quite recently.” You added and the man nodded one more time. He wanted to know your story, your abilities, your problems. After all, everyone has one. “I’m seventh in line.”

Since Buddha was in the sixth round and you in the seventh, the deity hoped that you two would have a chance to meet again and talk for much longer; about life and death, about Ragnarok and about these sweet fruits... Like... Why did they catch your eye?

[a-drabble-a-day]

Prompt #14

Someone Screaming For Help

~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

No, no, no! What are they doing? This can't be real. Dianxia! 

"Gag him. I can't take his screaming." "Hold him down." "Form a line. Wait your turn." "Don't miss. You can't go again." The little ghost fire flickered and burned. Watching, panic rising, helpless. What can he do? What can he do? He needs to do something. To stop this. To end this.

STOP! STOP! You cannot do this! He screams and screams at them. But they hear nothing.  SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! SOMEONE HELP HIM! HELP HIM!

He screams into the void. For a god, a demon, heaven or hell. For somebody to come. Somebody to save him. Somebody. Anybody.

They run him through over and over and over again. Through the neck, the abdomen, the heart.  "You deserve this!" "I'm sorry..." "I have to live." "I'm sorry."  A river of blood flows from the altar, small streams of bright red that gushed across the temple floor and into the fields. 

Dianxia! His body rigid with the spasms of pain. Gaping wounds opening across his body. 

DIANXIA!! DIANXIA!! DIANXIA!! Hong'er heard a screaming. A scream that consumed him. 

STOP! STOP! STOP!  It was the voiceless scream on Xie Lian's contorted face. It was his own soul crying out in pain at every skewer, every gush.  A cry of desperation, of rage, of helplessness.  STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!! STOP!!

His despair exploded outwards, an immense inferno that annihilated everything around him. He needed to make it stop.

Finally, the screaming turned to a sob.

But it was already too late.

~~~~~~~~

[crownprincessoftherusalkas]

Shelter

@flufftober

Prompt: Stuck or Lost Together

Alt prompt 12: Keeping someone safe

Fandom: Original Fiction (name pending)

Pairing: Juliette Brightley x Warren Rolf

~

"I'm not sure how close we are to my cousin's place. We haven't found the old station-house, yet." She said, staring down at the handdrawn map while they traveled the open road.

"Could be miles and miles. I know one thing: the rain won't wait for us to find shelter." Warren said, eyeing the clouds that were beginning to drift them from the farthest edge of the sky.

She sighed. She knew he was right. Warren seemed to be very perceptive, and his predictions hadn't been wrong yet. Though they'd only traveled a short time together, you really get to know a person when you walk for miles every day and only see one other person.

In spite of knowing he was probably right, Juliette saw to it that she kept a stiff upper lip. Complaining wouldn't make the rain go away.

Nor would it keep it from coming down.

The wind had moved so swiftly that it took no time at all for the clouds to roll overhead, blocking out the sky with a sudden, light shower.

Juliette squeaked, caught off guard when the raindrops began pelting her and her companion.

Quickly, Warren grabbed up his cloak and pulled it up over them, like half of a parasol.

Wrapping an arm around her, he ushered the two of them into the forest that walled the road, where the trees would at least provide some cover.

She blushed. She'd been this close to his side on accident perhaps three times before, and it was still as new and nervous as it ever was.

He sat the two of them under a clump of trees, before bouncing up again and draping his cloak over some branches, creating something of a canopy.

"Your cloak will be soaked." Juliette protested as he sat back down beside her. He turned his head, his hair falling over his should.

"It's a thin wool, it air-drys pretty quickly." He said, turning back to face the rest of the woods. He rested an arm on his knee.

Taking the time to study him, which she often did when he wasn't looking, she analyzed his features once more. Warren was perhaps the first new person she'd met in her whole life. She wasn't sure if that's what made his appearance a little harder to get used to, or if there was something else about him.

She liked the look of his wavy dark hair, which was long, but seemed not-unkempt. He'd comb his fingers through it and it seemed fine. He had a long nose-bridge, which on someone else might be beaky, but somehow, not on him. His brow was broad, and it gave his eyes a somewhat serious set, but she couldn't rightly say that he looked mean.

He looked at her.

She looked away.

The tension took a sharp turn with a heavy branch snapped somewhere beyond them.

She immediately froze, pale eyes going wide in fear.

Warren leaned forward, automatically holding his arm out in front of her.

He sat perfectly still, listening, watching. She held her breath.

Eventually, he broke the silence.

"Deer," he said, glancing at her as he sat back, closer to her. Through the pitter-patter of rain on leaves, she could hear him breath. "Doe," he discerned. She looked up at him.

"How can you tell?" She asked, surprised. At that, he hesitated, and when he tried to speak, he somewhat fumbled.

A second snap made her jump. She wasn't scared this time, of course, but still startled. Still unnerved by the fact that she still couldn't see the deer.

Almost as if he could feel her discomfort, he very carefully placed a hand on her shoulder. After an awkward half-second, he gently squeezed with his fingers.

Juliette's face grew a little pink once more. She leaned into his side, just a little, trying to let him know that she was calming down. She could feel some of the tension leave his arm, and he left his hand on her shoulder.

She peeked at his face, but couldn't see much from this angle. She tried not to wonder if his face felt warm, too. Heaven knows, she might accidentally ask.