stardust and fire.

the women of the crossover games. Happy International Women’s Day!

+ bonus

send me a 💔 and i’ll generate a number 1-75, and write a prompt: 5. my muse coming to yours after they’ve been critically injured.

The redhead hadn’t moved for hours, drifting on the brink between consciousness and otherwise. The cell’s floor was cold and hard, but it was familiar now; if this was to be her final resting place, she could at least say she knew exactly how many bricks were on the wall, for she’d counted them all several times. Whatever Coin had done to her was irrelevant now. The woman was unable to move, unable to help anyone, let alone herself. Finnick had been right: it was easier just to give in to it. But once again, fate could not let it be.

“Amy?” After months of hearing Kahlan, of pretending to be someone else, her own name sounded foreign to her. And in her state of mind, it went unnoticed. “Amy.” The voice was more desperate now, but the woman refused to hear any of it until a hand touched her skin. Instantly, her eyes fluttered, the sudden blinding light almost searing her mind. Bt the touch was familiar, comforting, and it stirred something a little more than natural within her. All of the surrounding chaos entered her realm of consciousness at once, and Amy felt deafened. Though she could breathe once again, as if the pain that had overridden her body was slowly floating away. And it was, the werewolf’s hand gripped tightly against her skin, his veins darkening with the effort. Amy felt so light, so good, that even as people shouted around them and walls crumbled down, she smiled.

“Scott,” she breathed, head dropping to the side as she let herself relax into unconsciousness again, the sound of her alpha’s returning voice keeping her calm. “It’s okay, Amy. You’re okay, I promise. I’m gonna get you out here.”

send me a 💔 and i’ll generate a number 1-75, and write a prompt: 41. my muse shows up on your muse’s doorstep after several months of being missing, with no memory of the past few years.

The blonde had woken up in a side alley in District One months ago, head pounding and empty plastic bag clutched in hand. He had no idea what he’d taken this time, or what had even happened at all, so it took far longer than usual to come back to himself. After a while however, he noticed the district was familiar, realising he must’ve wandered close to home. But of course, his family were nowhere to be found, and when he’d peeled off his jacket later that night and curled on the front porch of his house to get some sleep, a torn bit of paper had fled from his pocket. On it was an address and a few X’s, but nothing else. Nothing to say who it was from or why it was even on his person in the first place. But with nowhere else to go and nothing else to go off, he figured he’d found the note for a reason. And after one night spent alone outside the front of his old home, he’d decided anything had to better than that.

A large chunk out of his ‘rainy day fund’ and a few weeks later, Jesse finally arrived in Six. He was nervous to say the least, especially when he’d tracked down the correct house. Hands shaking, he lifted one to bang on the door, tucking the note away with the other. He’d spent almost every waking hour of his travels planning something to say to the house owner when he found them, but the second the door swung open, his mind went blank.

“Uh.. hey, yo, sorry to bother, I’m not trynna sell anythin’ promise. I just wanna –”

“Jesse!” The woman suddenly cried, wrapping him in a hug immediately. Startled, Jesse stumbled back from the force of the embrace, eyes widened in surprise. But he was too shocked to say anything coherent, willing his mind to give him some sort of context. How the hell did this woman know his name? Why were they hugging?! “Oh god, oh god,” she was crying into his neck, holding him tight. “I-I thought– we all thought you were –” The redhead suddenly cut off, swallowing down a sob. Then, just as quickly as he’d been grabbed, Jesse was pushed away, a hand slapping his upper arm instead.

“Ow,” he reacted instantly, extremely confused and now a little sore, hand rubbing the spot. The woman crossed her arms, tears still streaking her cheeks. “Where the hell have you been?! You better have a damn good answer.”

Jesse opened his mouth to reply, but once again fell short, at a total and utter loss. With nothing else left to lose, he dug into his pocket and held out the note, frowning as he did so. “Is uh… this is from you, then?”

and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter { tw violence, possible noncon/dubcon implications, nsfw }

Your muse throws a punch at mine.

My muse throws a punch at yours.

Your muse suddenly grips my muse’s hair.

My muse suddenly grips your muse’s hair.

Your muse roughly grabs my muse’s arm.

My muse roughly grabs your muse’s arm.

Your muse grips my muse’s hips.

My muse grips your muse’s hips.

Your muse wraps their hands tightly around my muse’s neck.

My muse wraps their hands tightly around your muse’s neck.

Your muse slams mine against a wall hard.

My muse slams yours against a wall hard.

Your muse pushes my muse to their knees.

My muses pushes your to their knees.

Your muse bites mine.

My muse bites yours.

Your muse clutches their hand tightly around my muse’s mouth to silence them.

My muse clutches their hand tightly around your muse’s mouth to silence them.

Your muse grabs my muse’s wrists.

My muse grabs their muse’s wrists.

Your muse attempts to shove away mine.

My muse attempts to push off yours.

Your muse roughly kisses mine.

My muse roughly kisses yours.

Your muse pins mine onto the ground.

My muse pins yours to the ground.

Your muse delivers beatings to mine.

My muse delivers beatings to yours.

Your muse breaks my muse’s arm.

My muse breaks your muse’s arm.

Seeing the way the younger woman bit the inside of her cheek by the small dimple like shape where her cheek was being pulled in, Arthur gave a small sigh. He knew that before coming to the Nut he hadn’t been in the best place - his actions on his past birthday were testament to that fact. And Amelia had been on the other end of it. Something he regretted greatly. He decided not to push her - to do so, would probably do more harm than good. He would have to find another way to broach the topic.

“Oh, it’s Jim’s old knife. He - gave it to me a long time ago, and I’ve carried it ever since.” He explained with a small smile. “Cleaning it is - calming.” he nodded to the seat beside him. “Join me?”

“Huh,” he shook his head in wonder. “Magic is freakin’ weird, yo. I think I prefer the science kinda potion, but I guess I don’t really get either,” he shrugged. Jesse all but cringed, forgetting entirely that she’d chosen to do this, and feeling bad that she had to instead. “Damn. That sucks.” He smiled a little at her comment though, meeting her gaze through the screen. “Me neither.” After a moment, Jesse nodded in understanding. “Yeah, but you’ll be home soon, and then you’ll start to get sick of it instead.”

At her reply, he shook his head almost instantly, believing that couldn’t be true. ”Nuh uh, no way. Not possible.” He’d tried to keep a smile on his face, but it was hard, thinking about how far away she was. How alone he was. When she explained herself, he only looked unimpressed. “Lame as, yo.” Then, an idea struck him. “Well, hey, I have a few hours to kill, right?” More than a few, considering he was doing literally nothing else. “We can always come up with stuff together..? Make your chick like, a whole life, even if she.. already has one, or whatever. Only if you wanna though,” he was quick to add, just in case. As he’d noticed before, she didn’t look all that well, and he didn’t want her in any trouble.

“That makes two of us,” Amy admitted, “but at least we know we can trust him.” She laughed lightly so as to not cause herself too much pain. “I don’t know. I’d never been sick of my hair before, so I’m pretty sure I’ll appreciate it every day after this is all over.”

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