#airing out my distress to the world so i can look back at it later and point and laugh at myself for my emotional fragility

[saturnalia-charceuterie-board]

yesterday i was in walmart and i saw this really cool jellyfish lamp for only eleven dollars and oh! wait post canceled somebody sent me a reel. okay it was about astrology very cool (i love astrology) anyways i was in walmart and i saw the lamp and something in my stomach recognized it and all of my bones locked in place and can there be anything but grief here? is there anything else to feel? it's just grief all the way down, in love and in fear and in excitement and in nostalgia, it's all just grief in different coats of store brand acrylic paint. is there anything else here? camus was right about absurdity. it holds hands with grief and they're both holding hands with me, we're standing in a little circle, and i'm sitting on the floor above the jellyfish lamp with no pants on (my dick is massive) and i pray for and to nothing at all. is there anything else here? anything at all?

[vamptizm]

NOT A SECRET — paige bueckers

pairing : paige bueckers x wnba!fem!reader

synopsis : the bliss of winning the wnba championship causes a big slip up that exposes your relationship to the world

warnings : explicit language, alcohol, cigars and sexual innuendos (if you don’t like the new york liberty, you can replace it with your favourite team idc)

note : i haven’t checked for typos that thoroughly so… my bad

word count : 2.6k

What’s better than succeeding in life in almost every aspect? Sharing that success with someone you love and that loves you back, unconditionally and wholly. Meeting Paige Madison Bueckers had undoubtedly been one of the best things that life had blessed you with, other than your flourishing career. The two of you had met in 2019, both playing for team USA. Later on you would meet again at UConn, playing and succeeding alongside each other for the past four years. It wasn’t until barely a year ago, that the two of you decided to be brave enough to confess your love. But sadly, everything must end for a new chapter to begin, and here you were, living a two and a half hour drive from her to chase your dreams.

Luckily for you, Paige was the most dedicated and passionate girlfriend in the world, making it her mission to attend as many of your games during the playoff season as possible. Today was no different. It was her birthday, her special day, and here she was, supporting you. Hoping to celebrate you, rather than celebrating herself.

You were pacing around the open kitchen of your—extremely overprized—apartment, the nerves and anxiety eating at you like maggots, heart pounding in your throat and hands sweaty. This was by far, one of the most important games in your life so far, if not more important than the game against Iowa only six month ago.

“How about you stop walking around in circles and c’mere?” Paige spoke up from her spot on the malta-beige couch, arm slung over the back rest as her neck craned slightly to look back at you.

“I can’t, I feel like I’m about to throw up.” You spoke, your voice coming out almost like a choked whine, wiping your hands down on your sweatpants for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

You only had an hour left until you had to be ready and at the Barclays Center. Two and a half hours until the final game against the Minnesota Lynx began. You were a mess, and no one could blame you.

Sighing at your distressed state, the blonde lifted herself off of the couch, walking towards you with sympathetic eyes. She hated seeing you this way. It wasn’t the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last, but it never burdened her. If you needed to cling to her like a lifeline, she would be there. Every. Single. Time.

“Oh, baby. C’mere.” Her arms opened wide once she was standing a mere foot away from you, wrapping you into a hug. So tight and warm, so comforting and safe that for a moment, it felt like all your worries vanished into thin air. The only thing that mattered was the intoxicating scent and the protective warmth of your girlfriend.

You buried your face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist as you allowed yourself to breathe—really breathe—for the first time since you had woken up. “I’m just scared. What if I mess up? What if I disappoint everyone and then I’ll be the rookie that ruined everything.” You mumble into her neck, voice slightly muffled but she understood you perfectly.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Paige’s voice was firm, yet it didn’t lack the tenderness and gentleness you so desperately needed. Her hands snaked up, pulling away from the hug just enough to be able to cup your face in them. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re on top of the league right now, if not the world. This is not going to ruin your career. It is not going to diminish everything you have achieved and you’re sure as hell not going to disappoint everyone.”

With her hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks and eyes looking deeply into yours, you couldn’t help but tear up. Maybe it was the stress, maybe the nerves, or maybe it was the reassurance and praise that not only her words offered, but her entire presence in that moment.

“You’re going to be great, just as you’ve always been. How many times have you felt just like this and ended up wiping the floor with everyone?”

The way she was looking down at you almost had your knees crumbling, so gentle and sincere. “You think so?” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and if it had been any other situation, you would’ve cringed at yourself.

“Baby, I know so.” Paige didn’t have to say more than that. It was enough to boost your confidence from basement level, to the roof.

You didn’t say much either, choosing to bask in the moment, hands snaking up to lay over hers that were still cupping your face, looking up at her with glassy eyes and a faint smile. In that moment, it was only appropriate for you to inch closer, placing a soft and short kiss on her pillow soft lips.

A smile crept up on the blonde as you pulled back again, “So… How about ‘pre-game good luck’ head?”

“Well… Wait, No! I’m still in distress.”

The arena buzzed with a low hum of anticipation as you stood at the edge of the court, taking in the packed stands, the flashing lights, and the sea of Liberty blue and green. Your heart was pounding—though you'd had nerves all day, they'd sharpened now that the moment was upon you . You scanned the crowd, gaze catching Paige's in her seat near the front. Paige's steadying smile softened the sharp edges of Your anxiety, and you exhaled, focus narrowing. This was it. The moment you had been working your ass of for. It was now or never.

As the whistle blew, your nerves dissolved like mist, replaced by the razor focus of competition. Everything outside the court vanished, your only objective now to take down the Lynx and bring home a win for the team. But as the first quarter unfolded, it became clear this game wouldn't go as planned. Your team struggled to find their rhythm, their usual crisp passes and quick plays seeming off. Shots were bouncing off the rim, free throws missed their mark, and the Lynx defense was ruthless. Every time you managed to drive toward the basket, you felt hands clawing at your arms, hips bumping you hard off course. You fought to keep your form steady, but even your own three-pointers—normally a guaranteed lifeline—fell just short. Beside you, Sabrina was playing through visible pain, her movements cautious, hindered by her UCL injury.

Paige's chest tightened with each missed shot and lost point, her eyes tracking your every move. She could see your frustration mounting, shoulders tensing after every failed attempt, and every bit of her wanted to rush down there, to shield you from the weight of this game. Tell you that she believed in you more than anything.

By halftime, the Liberty had fallen behind by nearly double digits. You felt your stomach knot and churn as you walked back down the tunnel toward the locker room, breath shaky, mind racing over every failed shot, every error. Before you knew it, hot tears were spilling down your cheeks, stinging with the shame of coming up short. You barely noticed the footsteps trailing you until you heard Paige's voice calling out her name, a beacon of comfort piercing her distress.

You slowed and turned, and there was your girlfriend, just outside the locker room door, her eyes brimming with concern. A teasing voice broke the tension—Stewie, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Hey, save some of those tears for the win, rook. You're not out of this yet."

Despite yourself, you let out a shaky laugh, and then you were in Paige's arms, face buried against her shoulder. You clung to her, breathing in the familiar scent and drawing strength from your girlfriend's embrace. "I'm playing like shit right now," you mumbled, voice thick with disappointment.

She tilted your chin up, meeting your eyes with steady determination. "Hey, look at me. You've been through worse than this. Most of these people today are here to watch you. You're gonna go back out there and you're gonna play your game. I know you. You're not done." Her words wrapped around you like armor, steadying your nerves. With a last kiss on the cheek, Paige whispered, "Go show them who you are, Ma."

Buoyed by the reassurance, you returned to the court for the second half with renewed fire only ten minutes later. Your team began to close the gap, each player digging deep as they fought to find their rhythm. Your shots began to connect, and your movements were sharper, cleaner, feeding off your team's newfound energy. You could feel Paige's eyes on you from the stands, grounding you with every step.

By the time the game went into overtime, your team had clawed their way to a slim four-point lead, the clock ticking down the final seconds. With a fierce determination, you seized her moment—gripping the ball just past half-court, you made the reckless decision in a split second. You set your stance and launched a deep three-pointer, watching as the ball arched high into the air. The arena fell silent, everyone holding their breath as it spun toward the basket.

And then—swish. The ball dropped cleanly through the net, and the crowd erupted, an unstoppable wave of sound crashing over the court. Your teammates surged around you, pulling you into hugs and shouting in joy, their faces bright with triumph. You felt the overwhelming relief, the weight of victory sinking in as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

Amid the chaos, your gaze instinctively searched for Paige, who was already standing by her seat, pride radiating from her. Without thinking, you ran toward her, your heart full to bursting. When you reached Paige, your threw your arms around her, catching her in a fierce embrace. Before either of you registered what you were doing, you pressed a kiss to Paige's lips, the world melting away in that single moment. You were on cloud nine and nothing could bring you down, anytime soon.

Paige held you close, tears shimmering in her own eyes as she whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Baby. You fucking did it."

And for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of every struggle, every doubt, lifted, replaced by the solid warmth of love, victory, and the freedom to embrace who you truly were.

But then it dawned on you. The sudden realization of what you had just done and your face dropped, heart pounding impossibly faster in your throat all while Paige continued to hold you close. "Oh my god... Oh. My. God." You could barely manage to find the words, the guilt of what you had just done so impulsively hitting you like a wave and throwing you off that thrown you had been sitting on just a mere minute ago.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... Oh god, I fucked up. The whole world just saw that, what do we do?" It was clear as day that you were panicking, the fear of disappointing your girlfriend eating away at you.

Paige however, didn't seem to have lost that smile on her face, her bright eyes almost blinding with the sparkle that shimmered in them, all while gazing at you. "I don't care. We've talked about this before, I want the world to know."

"Really?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, not trusting yourself to keep it from cracking in that moment.

"Yes, really. I would be fucking insane if I had anything against the world knowing that I'm not only dating the most wonderful person alive, but also a champion."

Your frown quickly turned upside down into a small smile, heart searing with love and pride. Not only were you a winner tonight, but with her on your side, you'd be a winner for the rest of your life.

"Now go and celebrate, you deserve it." The blonde began to release you from her grip, a soft grin playing on her lips.

"Come with me." You suggested instantly, not wanting to be apart from her for even just a second, if you didn't have to. "I wanna show off my prettier trophy on her birthday."

Paige's grin melted into a smirk, the sparkle in her blue eyes suddenly clouded and you had to make sure that your own eyes weren't playing tricks on you. "Your trophy, huh? Oh, I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back home, champ."

Back in the locker room, the team was in full championship mode. As you and Paige stepped in, you were instantly drenched with a spray of ice-cold champagne, your teammates laughing and cheering as they each took turns celebrating. The room was filled with a mix of joyous shouts, laughter, and the sticky-sweet smell of champagne spilling from bottles held high. You could feel the bubbles fizzing on your skin, jersey soaked through, but none of that mattered—this was the taste of victory, and you drank it in like the best moment of your life.

Stewie grinned, grabbing a cigar and offering it to you with a proud nod. “Here you go, rook. You’ve earned it.”

You took it with a chuckle, feeling the weight of the cigar in your hand as you looked around at your ecstatic teammates. You didn’t smoke often, but right now, it felt like the perfect way to mark the moment. As you lit up, you took a slow draw and exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the air, feeling an odd thrill in the movement. Around you, your teammates roared in laughter and cheered you on, playfully tousling your hair and congratulating you as you relaxed further into the moment.

Paige stood slightly apart from the chaos, watching you with an expression of open admiration. Paige’s gaze lingered on you, catching every spark of joy in your eyes, every smile, and every bit of laughter that spilled from your lips. She let herself soak in the sight, wanting to imprint it on her memory—this perfect image of you, triumphant and glowing, a little champagne-drunk and flushed from the celebration. She didn’t care about the sticky residue of the champagne on her own skin or the faint smell of smoke in the air; all she could focus on was you, looking impossibly beautiful.

As you took another drag, exhaling the smoke with an air of confidence that was as charming as it was unfamiliar, Paige’s heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way you held herself tonight, bold and carefree, that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

You caught Paige’s eyes and, with a giggle, took a playful step toward her, the effects of the champagne clear in your soft, relaxed gaze. “Are you okay over there?” you teased, tilting your head with a grin, clearly catching on to Paige’s stare.

Paige’s lips curled into a smirk, her voice low as she leaned in, brushing a hand along your arm. “Oh, I’m doing great,” she murmured, her tone filled with a hint of mischief. “Just… can’t wait to get you home.”

Your eyes sparkled with a playful challenge as you smirked right back, the faint scent of champagne and cigar smoke hanging in the air between them. “I’m all yours in an hour or so,” you whispered, leaning in close enough that only Paige could hear.

“Longest hour of my life,” Paige replied, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as they lingered on your smile.

The locker room buzzed around you, but in that moment, you both were in your own world, two people tangled in a look filled with promises for later, ready to savor every bit of this win—together.

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life'

Joel Miller x f! Reader

part ii

Summary: You get to spend your last night with Joel before he gets married to another woman.

w.c: 4k>

warning: angst, mentions of cheating. No proofreading, messy writing (possibly).

a/n: Well, hello. I wrote this because I had this idea in my head for a few days but now I don't feel like I completely wrote what I wanted. Nevertheless, here is it. Sorry if this is not my best work, but I wrote it in a rush and a part 2 could be possible. There's another fic I'm working on so I hope that's better than this one. Happy reading and I hope to have time soon to be back to writing 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Everyone around you could see it. The dilated pupils, the starry-eyed gaze, and the wide smile when you were with Joel. Everyone could see it, but Joel. You could also feel it, but it was forbidden. Being high over heels for your friend was almost a felony. Joel was your best friend, and he was getting married to another woman.

Your paths crossed the day you moved into your new house. The one next to his. You had gotten a glimpse of him a few times during your first days there. His messy hair and the crease between his eyebrows made him look in distress, running back and forth all the time, which made you want to know about him. A few days later, you learned from a neighbor that Joel was recently widowed with a small baby girl named Sarah, who had become his whole world. And you had gotten to meet him one day when he knocked at your doorstep, disheveled and with puffy eyes, carrying a crying baby girl tightly against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world, which, to him, she undoubtedly was.

"Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice as you noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Joel looked up, startled by the sound of your voice. His tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability before he composed himself. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a rough night. Sarah's been fussy, and I just..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced down at his daughter, then took a look at your clothes. You were wearing a strapless black dress, and when he glanced up at you, he almost got his air cut by your gorgeous face.

You were clearly getting ready to go out; after all, you were a young woman living next to his, and as far as he could tell, you were single.

“I’m sorry, you... You are leaving. I don’t know why I came here,” he said.

Without hesitation and ignoring Joel’s words, you reached out and gently rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to come in?" you offered, gesturing to the warmth and comfort of your home.

Joel hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before he nodded gratefully. Stepping inside, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sank into the nearest chair. You followed suit, sitting across from him and offering a sympathetic smile.

“I just came back home,” you said.

“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

“You said I was leaving. I’m not.” You smiled again, trying to contain the tinkle in your naked arms as you looked at the man in front of you.

"Oh,” he replied. "Oh," Joel repeated, his voice tinged with surprise as he processed your words. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah, who had quieted down in your presence.

After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I, um, actually came here because... I need some help," he admitted quietly, his eyes avoiding yours.

You nodded, understanding dawning as you realized the weight of responsibility that Joel carried as a single parent. "Of course," you said softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to help however I can."

Joel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over his tired features. "Thank you," he murmured, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and Sarah... she deserves better."

Sarah.

You had learned the baby’s name was Sarah.

“My wife died during labor,” he confessed.

As Joel's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing. Your heart ached for him, knowing the pain he must have endured losing his wife, especially under such tragic circumstances.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

Joel nodded, his expression haunted as he stared off into the distance. "It's been... it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to face," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But Sarah... she's been my anchor. My reason to keep going." He paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m asking you if you can help me take care of her just for tonight. I just have this thing with my brother, and I found out you’re a teacher, so I suppose you’re good with kids.”

“Wait…how… How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Joel blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hesitated for a moment before his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, well... I may have asked around the neighborhood," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, finding his awkwardness endearing. "I see," you said with a playful smile. "Well, you're right. I am a teacher. And I'd be more than happy to help take care of Sarah tonight."

Relief washed over Joel's features, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, really. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of appreciation and vulnerability.

You nodded, understanding his need for support and reassurance, especially during such a challenging time. "Don't worry about it," you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sarah will be in good hands with me."

With that settled, Joel visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Since that day, you and Joel have become thick as thieves, and consequently, you have become Sarah’s best friend. The three of you became inseparable, sharing laughter and tears as you were there for each other through the ups and downs of life. Whether it was late-night diaper changes or spontaneous dance parties in the living room, you cherished every moment spent with both of them.

As Sarah grew older, she became not only Joel's whole world but yours as well. You watched with pride as she took her first steps, spoke her first words, and grew into a bright, curious toddler. And through it all, you were there by her side, offering guidance, love, and endless patience.

But amidst the joy and laughter, there was a bittersweet longing lingering in the air—a longing for something more, something you knew could never be. You buried your feelings deep within your heart, knowing that to act on them would only bring pain and heartache to those you loved most.

Of course you had dated; you went on dates, but they never worked out. No one was Joel, so you kept burying your love for him. You caught yourself in a complex web of emotion with that lingering ache for something more. What could have happened if you had talked before? But as much as you tried to bury your feelings for Joel, they remained a constant presence, a silent companion that followed you wherever you went.

And now, watching as Joel prepared for his upcoming wedding, the realization of his happiness with another woman cutting through you like a knife. Each detail of the ceremony seemed to magnify the distance between you, reminding you of the forbidden nature of your feelings.

Tess was a lovely woman, yet she didn’t completely like the idea that you and her soon-to-be husband were so close. Perhaps she sensed the depth of your connection with Joel, or maybe she simply felt threatened by the strong relationship you had forged with him and his daughter.

You tried your best to reassure Tess, to show her that your intentions were pure—that you were simply there to support Joel and Sarah in any way you could. But despite your efforts, there remained an underlying tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

However, you knew that after the wedding, you and Joel would grow apart, and you already had a plan to bear with the solace that would cause you.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight." Joel gushed, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “It feels like when Sarah fell asleep and stayed late talking.”

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face. It had taken a lot of work to become this good at faking it. You had conditioned yourself to smile at Joel and respond to his questions with excitement, as your insides felt like they were tearing apart from the thought of these being the last hours of Joel being single. But you didn’t have a choice.

Almost eight years of friendship had taken a toll on you. That was a lot of time to reconsider your feelings and come back with a new perspective, but you were just burying your feelings as you always do. You didn’t want to ruin Joel’s chance of happiness, and as soon as tomorrow arrived, you would play your role and then be out of his life.

“Are you excited?” Joel asked you.

“For you?” you asked, bringing your wine glass to your lips. “Of course,” you plastered your best smile at him, even though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Joel smiled back at you, tossing himself on the sofa, his hand over his chest as he breathed in and out rhythmically, watching as you stared at your glass of wine with a lost gaze.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, only watching you shrug.

“Don’t know.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Joel only hummed in response, looking around his living room before his eyes settled on the record player across the room, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Hun.”

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled, directing your gaze at him. You were just waiting to drift off to sleep.

“Do you remember our parties?”

Your eyes opened to look at Joel trying to piece together what he wanted to do. “I do, why?”

Without another word, Joel stood up and walked across the room to his record player, standing there with a tin of dust. Trying to look for the perfect disc and allow the melody to sweep through the house.

After his silence, you closed your eyes once again, just to abruptly open them to the familiar melody of the song playing through the house.

Out of touch, out of reach, yeah

You could try to get closer to me.

I’m in love; I’m in deep, yeah.

Hypnotized, I’m shaking to my knees.

Without a warning, Joel shot across the room to you, raising his hand for you to take it.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

You felt a rush of panic surge through you as Joel approached, his outstretched hand beckoning you to join him. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to escape the moment and the temptation to give in to the pull of the music and Joel's presence.

"I... I don't know, Joel," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you hesitated to take his hand. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to resist, to maintain the boundaries you had carefully erected between you and Joel. But as his warm gaze met yours, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked within you—a longing, a yearning for something more.

Joel's expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Come on," he urged gently, his voice low and soothing. "Let's dance, just like old times."

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself relenting, allowing Joel to pull you to your feet and into his arms. As the music enveloped you both, you were transported back to a time when laughter and joy filled the air, when the weight of unspoken feelings had yet to cast its shadow over your friendship.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and in the warmth of Joel's embrace. But even as you swayed together in the dim light of his living room, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that tugged at the corners of your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat.

"I'm going to miss this, you know? Our late-night dance parties, just the two of us." You whispered.

“I’m not dying,” he replied, humored.

You pulled back to look at his face for a moment, finding the words you wanted to say. “I know, but it will be different.”

You found the same easy smile and the same playful glint that had always been there, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath.

"I know," Joel replied, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently. "Things are going to be different after tomorrow. But no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend; you know that, right?"

His words struck a chord within you, stirring a mix of emotions that you struggled to put into words. Part of you wanted to cling to Joel's reassurance, to hold onto the comfort of his friendship, even as the world around you shifted and changed. But another part of you couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring and whether things would ever truly be the same between you and Joel again.

"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "I know."

And as you continued to dance together in the dim light of Joel's living room, you couldn't help but wonder. What would happen after tomorrow?

You allowed yourself to inhale his perfume as you placed your head on his shoulder, containing the tears that threatened to spill.

There was silence.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.

As Joel's question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settled over you like a heavy fog. You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, holding a depth of curiosity and vulnerability that you hadn't expected.

"Have you ever been in love before?" He asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if he were searching for something in your answer, something beyond mere words.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the truth of your feelings threatening to spill out despite your best efforts to contain them. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Joel—not now, not when the walls you had built around your heart felt so fragile and precarious.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that had long been buried deep within you. "Yes, I have."

Joel's expression softened, and his heart exploded at the tiny thought of being the one you loved. “And... is it someone I know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal and how much to lay bare before him. But in the end, you couldn't deny him the truth, and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to finally speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.

"Maybe,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you met Joel's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

As the song ended, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confession lingering in the air like a palpable presence. You and Joel stood there, locked in a moment of uncertainty, each grappling with the implications of your words.

Joel's gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting feelings.

“Wait, you have to tell me so you can be the next one to get married?” Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's attempt to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the gravity of this situation inside you.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Any man would love to be with someone like you.” he encouraged.

“I can’t because that man is getting married tomorrow.” That's it. You had confessed your feelings for him.

A heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You could see the flicker of realization cross Joel's features, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words.

The warmth that had filled the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a palpable tension that wrapped around you both like a suffocating blanket. You watched as Joel's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions playing across his features—shock, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sadness.

"I... I don't know what to say," Joel finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't realize... I mean, I never thought..."

His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his gaze fixating on a spot on the floor as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his confusion and uncertainty pressing down on you—a heavy burden that threatened to crush you beneath its weight.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I didn't mean to... I never meant for things to get this complicated."

Joel shook his head; his expression hurt as he finally met your gaze once more. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "I just...”

You nodded in understanding, knowing that this revelation had changed everything between you, perhaps irreparably so. But even as the reality of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at finally speaking the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Joel's question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of your feelings. "I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether."

Joel's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek as he listened intently. "You could never lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my best friend, and nothing could ever change that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Joel's understanding and compassion. "I know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant keeping my feelings hidden."

“And you had to wait all these years just to tell me the night before I got married!” He raised his voice; he had never done it before.

Your heart clenched at Joel's raised voice, the rawness of his emotions cutting through you like a knife. "I know, I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I should have told you sooner; I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Joel's expression softened at your words, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "I'm not mad," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm just... I'm just surprised, that's all. I never knew."

His words trailed off, and you could see the turmoil churning beneath the surface, the weight of his impending marriage bearing down on him like a heavy burden. You reached out, tentatively placing your hand over his as you searched for the right words to ease his pain.

As the weight of your shared emotions hung heavily in the air, you and Joel sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other as if trying to decipher the unspoken words lingering between you. There was tension, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, and neither of you could resist its irresistible force.

With a trembling breath, you meet his eyes, knowing this would be the last time you would be this close to him.

His eyes also met yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within your own heart. And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and electrifying, Joel closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings, a silent confession of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world falling away to leave only the two of you, lost in the swirling tide of emotions that threatened to consume you both.

As Joel deepened the kiss, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell of the moment and pulling you both back to reality with a jolt. You reluctantly pulled away from each other, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to compose yourselves.

Joel's hand instinctively went to his pocket, retrieving his phone with a mixture of frustration and resignation. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing in confusion as he recognized the name flashing on the screen.

"It's Tess," he murmured, his voice tinged with apprehension as he answered the call. "Hey, Tess, what's up?"

You watched as Joel listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, his expression growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. Your heart sank as you realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before you, the weight of Joel's impending marriage casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy you had shared just moments before.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally ended the call, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered his phone. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"I have to go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tess needs me."

You nodded, your heart heavy with disappointment and resignation. "I understand," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the ache in your chest.

And with that, Joel gathered his things and made his way to the door.

“Joel.”

He stopped on his tracks by the door, looking at you without being able to look you in the eyes.

Joel's steps faltered at your words, his hand pausing on the doorknob as he turned to face you once more. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“I’m not coming tomorrow,” you said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the significance of your statement.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I mean, I can't be there tomorrow," you repeated, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “Not after this, so I’m going back to my house and I’ll move to New York just as I planned.”

“What?” Joel's voice wavered with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your words. He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading as if hoping you would take back what you had just said.

"Please, don't do this," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You can't just leave like this, not after everything that's happened between us."

You felt a pang of guilt at the anguish in Joel's voice, the weight of his words bearing down on you like a heavy burden. But you knew that staying would only prolong the inevitable, dragging out the pain and heartache for both of you.

"I have to," you said softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't stay here and watch you marry someone else, knowing how I feel about you. It's too much, Joel. I need to go."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the ache in your chest growing heavier with each passing moment. But despite the pain, you knew deep down that leaving was the only option, the only way to protect your heart from further damage.

Joel reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I... I need you here with me."

You met his gaze, the intensity of his words washing over you like a wave. But as much as you longed to stay, you knew that leaving was the only way forward, the only way to find peace and healing for your shattered heart.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned away from him. "But you just kiss me, and I feel sick because you cheated, and I won’t be the other woman.”

Joel's shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with anguish as he realized the depth of his mistake. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you. "I'll call off the wedding; I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just please, don't go."

“Do you even love me to do that?” you asked,

Joel's eyes widened at your question, his expression filled with a mixture of shock and desperation. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

The silence was defeating, and your heart sank at his response, the uncertainty in his words cutting through you like a knife. You had hoped for reassurance, for a declaration of love that would make everything right again, but instead, you were met with doubt and confusion.

And with that, you gathered your things and made your way to the door, leaving Joel standing alone in his living room, his heart breaking with every step you took away from him.

"You'll marry Tess, and I'll leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you disappeared from his sight.

The words echoed in Joel's mind long after you had gone. At that moment, Joel knew that he had to make a choice—one that would determine the course of his future and the fate of his heart. But as he sat alone in the silence of his living room, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever before.

[astars-things]

luke just being the cutest uncle ever and it’s so obvious besides jack that he’s her favorite person

3 moments of Luke being the cutest uncle

1- The Bedtime Story Last night, Y/N begged Luke to read her a bedtime story. He picked one of her favorites, The Gruffalo, but of course, Luke couldn’t just read it—he acted it out.

Using different voices for every character, he had Y/N laughing and gasping in all the right places. When he got to the Gruffalo, he roared so loudly she squealed and hid under her blanket, only to peek out giggling.

After the story, Luke tucked her in and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, princess,” he whispered.

2- Tea party

“Uncle Lukey!” Y/N squeals the moment Luke steps inside. “You’re just in time for my tea party!”

Luke glances at me, one brow raised in mock distress. “Tea party?” he repeats.

I smirk. “Good luck.”

Five minutes later, I’m in the kitchen making coffee, and when I peek back into the living room, there’s Luke—cross-legged on the tiny pink rug, wearing a tiara Y/N must have forced on him. He’s holding a plastic teacup in one hand and pretending to sip like a proper gentleman.

“This is the best tea I’ve ever had, Princess Y/N,” he says in a serious tone, holding out the cup for a refill. Y/N giggles uncontrollably and pours him another round from her tiny teapot.

“You have to say ‘cheers,’ Uncle Lukey!” she insists.

“Of course! Cheers!” he says, clinking his cup with hers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I snap a quick picture to save the moment forever. It’s not every day you see a 6'2" hockey player wearing a tiara and calling a four-year-old “Your Highness.”

3- Playground adventures

we hit the park for some much-needed fresh air. Y/N immediately gravitated toward the playground’s tallest slide, but halfway up, she froze.

“Dada, it’s too high!” she called down, her voice shaky.

I started walking over, but Luke was faster. “Hey, Y/N, you’re not stuck,” he said calmly, climbing up to her. “You’re just a little scared. But guess what? I’m right here.”

She looked at him, unsure. “What if I fall?”

Luke smiled, sitting beside her on the platform. “Then I’ll catch you. But you’re strong and brave, so I know you can do it.”

With Luke cheering her on, Y/N finally slid down, shrieking with delight. When she landed at the bottom, Luke came down right after her, exaggerating his movements and landing in a mock superhero pose. “Told you we could do it!” he said, giving her a high five.

Her face lit up like the sun. “Uncle Lukey, you’re the best!” she declared, wrapping her arms around his leg.

[purple-goo-writes]

Punk Hazard

Now to put this into a story.

Part 2 Here

It was a normal day in Central City. The Flashes were fighting the latest team-up between Killer Frost and Captain Cold. So of course it was snowing in July now and traffic was stalled due to ìce attacks making the roads impassable. But the heroes had the villains on the ropes. Then a fresh wave of ice and cold came out of nowhere, covering everything and everyone in frost. Dropping the temperature further as the crunching of boots on ice drew everyone's attention. Dressed in distressed black leather pants with frosted chains, a black crop top with a deep v-neck lined with blue, and plenty of ice chains to rattle as he walked was a teen near Impulse's age with pale blue skin, elfin features, and long black hair streaked with white and blue. Blue lips pulled into a deadly smirk as the air started to thrum with vibrations and the beat of crackling ice, "Time to drop the beat down."

Unfortunately for the heroes, they were not familiar with this villain's move set or powers. And it seemed they had made a mistake in assuming that his powers were similar to the other two ice villains. Only to be thrown for a loop when they missed a beat and started to freeze. And the music was only getting faster and with it came faster ice attacks.

Later, Barry groaned as his team worked to get him, Wally, and Bart out of their ice prisons. The three of them were shivering and turning blue from how cold their core temps had dropped. Looked like they would be hitting the showers on max heat once thawed out.

"What in the world was that?" Wally groaned once he was finally freed, while Barry rubbed his hands together to get feeling back, "I don't know but we better get investigating to figure out how to fight this new guy."

"Yeah, I don't fancy being a Flash-cicle just because I can't keep the beat," Wally grumbled, "Dick is going to make me play sooo much Just Dance once he hears about our new villain."

"You noticed it too?" Bart shivered, taking his mind away from the fact that the new villain was around his age and rather interesting to look at. Something he hadn't noticed before on others. he shook his head, no he needed to focus, "We had to follow the beat of the music or we started to freeze up. It was pretty easy to do until he started to ramp up the difficulty. Also...He has to follow the beat as well."

Barry groaned softly as he wrapped the blanket handed to him around his shoulders, "Wally is right, we are going to have to start ramping up our Just Dance scores...Hal is going to laugh himself sick."

All three groaned realizing their respective teams were going to be insufferable.

---

"You are pretty badass, kid," Killer Frost smirked once they got away from the heroes, "What even are your powers?" "A cross between music manipulation and Ice control," He shrugged, "I've been calling it Cryo Symphony." "Got a name?" Captain Cold grunted looking over the little punk, though little probably only applied to age given the kid was nearly his height and in that awkward stage between Twink and Tank.

"I was thinking Punk Frost-" "Yeah no, I got Frost already covered and I'm not looking for a side kick," Killer Frost hissed at him, making the kid raise his hands in surrender, "Okay, how about Punk Hazard? After all, I am a punk and my powers are hazardous to other's health if they can't keep the beat." "Sounds good kid, now you got a place to stay?" Snart asked, tone gruff but concerned. He never liked seeing kids turn to the villain life, didn't really like kiddie heroes but at least they had more support then kiddie villains did.

"Ummm not really?" Danny shrugged, "Probably the bridge I've been sleeping under."

Even Frost looked concerned at that, causing Snart to sigh, "Yeah no, I got a safe house you can crash at. Come on, you look like you haven't eaten in days." Danny blinked in confusion, "Huh?" Making Frost snicker, "Sorry, kid looks like you've been adopted."

[seriesxwriting]

Hi! I have an idea, maybe you'll like it. The reader was born in the 19th century. She was from a rich family. She loved Damon. Her father made an agreement with Giuseppe and you were remembered as representatives of rich families. Damon couldn't go against his father, but he immediately had a negative attitude towards her because of that marriage was settled without his opinion. Her task was only to give birth to a child. When Catherine appears, she does not want to see an obstacle in the form of a legitimate wife. Emily casts a spell that everyone thinks the Reader is dead. She is laid in the family crypt. After 150 years, when Emily destroys the horcrux in Bonnie's body, the reader wakes up. Surprisingly, she is pregnant. But the Reader is offended by Damon. He ruined her life. And she's determined to keep Damon away from her child. She also tries to fit into the modern world. There's really one problem… gradually Damon realizes that he loves the writer, and Catherine and Elena were an obsession. Will he be able to get his wife back

Thank you for this request, I hope I displayed it how you envisioned it!

Second chances

Pairing: Damon Salvatore X female reader

Series: The vampire diaries

Summary: Request! You’re Damon’s Fiance from before he turned and you wake up from a curse finding yourself in a modern world while pregnant with Damon’s child. But distracted by Katherine, Damon was horrible to you before. Can you forgive him? Has he changed?

Warnings: Pregnancy? Swearing.

My eyes opened to darkness. My first thought wasn't where I was, my first thought was what just happened. I blinked a couple times, trying to clear my brain of the fog, of the discombobulation. I heard distant moving behind my head which created this new thought. where was I, and how did I get out. I began trying to move but I didn't have much space, nor did I have much air. I struggled some more and began making grunting noises of distress before the shouting began. 'HELP" "GET ME OUT OF HERE".

A moment or two later I heard voices nearer to me. I stopped banging and tried to listen to them, to find out if they were friend or foe. "Hello?" one of them called out. "Where are you?" another voice asked. looking at my options I had no choice but to ask them for help, even if they were foe.

"In here" I cried out banging on what seamed to be stone. "It took a second but eventually I felt myself moving backwards and then the bright light attacked my face. I looked up at the three girls standing above me. They looked at each other then back down at me. "W-who are you" I asked looking at their clothes. Id never seen anything like it before. Women in mens clothes? trousers?.

"We're... um well i'm Bonnie and this is Caroline and Elena" one of the girls answered. "Why do you dress yourself in mens clothes and speak improper" I questioned shaking my head, trying to understand what is going on. “Um?” Elena threw me a weird look and the girls looked me up and down. “What are you guys doing?” A man’s voice appeared from outside.

“I’d know that voice anywhere” my eyes batted pulling my self out of the box in an act to escape. But it was too late. There behind the girls stood Damon Salvatore and his younger brother. “Y-y/n?” He stuttered looking at me like I was an alien. “It can’t be- you’re dead?” Stefan shook his head taking a step closer. “What in earths name is going on, I don’t like this game boys?” I folded my arms putting my head up. “You know her?” Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “T-that’s my fiance- from before I changed” Damon stated still obviously in shock.

“Your father wouldn’t be happy to hear you speak so improper and hang out with such obscure company” I frowned at him before looking around at my surroundings. “Gosh- everything looks so- different” I blinked realising something was wrong. “Y/n- it’s been over 100 years since you were out of that box- we thought you were dead but- you must have been turned too” Damon told me softly. My head whipped round to him, my eyes blazing with fire.

“You know Damon I once loved you- and after all the love I gave to you, you still treat me so uncouth” I scoffed putting my hands on my hip. “Y/n- Damon and I aren’t playing any games- it really has been over 100 years” Stefan told me, all their faces had a wipe of sympathy across them, and I hated it. “Nonsense- I have had enough- I shall tell my father I no longer want to be wed with you” I folded my arms and pushed past the girls but as I did my eye caught onto something. My father’s name was written on the tombstone next to me.

I stopped and stared at it thinking about nothing else but the words “it’s been over 100 years”. I turned to the boys with tears in my eyes. “Why does my father and my mother’s names lie on these tombstones in our family crypt” I asked almost in tears at the thought of them cold, dead in a box. “You know why Y/n” Damon took a step towards me and I took one back. “Those stories- about that girl being a vampire- the one you loved Katherine- they- they were true?”. No one answered me for a minute- they all looked around at one another.

“They must have been so- how else would you live all these years- and myself? Am I truly one of those beasts?” I asked them desperately, feeling the tears roll down my face. “No- you’re not- or you would have needed blood to wake up- I think my ancestor Emily put a spell on you- if you were due to marry Damon and Emily worked for Katherine I’m sure she would have had something to do with it” Bonnie folded her arms looking at Damon pissed off. “Y/n I’m really sorry- for how I treated you- for what happened- come back to my house we will get you cleaned up and catch you up” Damon put his hand out to me.

“You did not answer me” I shook my head at his hand. “Yes” he replied. That’s all he said. That’s all I’d had to go off. A whole new world and my only friend was my horrid Fiance who didn’t love me. but I suppose I had no choice. “I shan’t hold your hand but I will follow behind” I nodded with not hint of a smile. It was all too much for me. I wasn’t sure if I’d get on in this world- awful use of the English language, girls who dress like men?

As we left I kept my questions inside- though I had many. They helped me into what they called a Morden day car, and Damon drove me all the way to his house. Though there was all this new stuff stepping into his house was like a breath of fresh air. A lot of the decor looked as if it was made in my day. It felt familiar. They took me upstairs to what was a Morden day shower and Elena left me out some Morden day clothes. She made sure she gave me a dress and I told her I shan’t be wearing male attire.

And then Damon met me in the room. He took a seat on the bed and patted for me to sit down. “This is all rather a lot Damon” I sighed sitting down, crossing my legs properly. “How can I live in a world without my Father- I have not married” “women- don’t need to marry anymore- women can live on their own now” he shrugged with a little smile. “Women can work, drive, smoke- vote- women are independent now”. I swallowed finding what he said hard to believe. “But- I have nothing left” “I’m here” he told me reaching for my hand.

“And im so so sorry for how i treated you before- you don’t deserve that you didn’t- i was distracted by Katherine” he explained to me while tucking some hair behind my head. “You never loved me Damon- you loved her- we cannot be married, my father would not want me to marry you after hearing how you treated me- the things you said to me and did to me” I shook my head taking my hand from his. “I am present for you to explain how this disaster happened- and where I go now- what I do in this morden world- after that I wish never to see you again” I told him boldly.

Damon shook his head almost pouting at me. “Y/n you can’t mean that- i will apologise every day if you’ll let me please just don’t go- when I thought you were dead the guilt ate away at me so much until I turned my switch off- i couldn’t live knowing I could have had that life with you and I threw it away- but I’ve been given a second chance to fix it to make it up to you”. I suppressed an eye roll for his idiocy. “But I do not and can not love you anymore Damon” I folded my arms looking him dead in the eye.

I wish I felt a little more remorse because his heart looked like it was breaking. But I didn’t, he put me through a lot worse. "But where will you go Y/n? you have no money no family- you're human". That was true, and I felt my heart drop when I realised he was right. "You must tell me- it is your fault I am in this god forsaken position" I expressed as anger bubbled upside of me.

"I know- i'm so sorry- we could have just lived the normal human life- had children together... what I would do to go back" Damon looks away from me, I wasn't sure if he was hiding tears or just couldn't look me in the eye. "But we cannot" I answered bluntly after giving it a second. In that moment my stomach became incredibly sore, I wrapped my arms around it and breathed out to try and stabilise it once more. "Y/n?" Damon called out gently putting his hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" he moved closer as I let out a wince from the pain.

"I am- it is merely a stomach cramp I am sure" i breathed out trying to suppress the pain. But it wasn't working. "We should take you to a doctor, you were in that tomb a long time" he suggested taking a stand. "No- I would not like to waste a good physicians time" I shook my head adimant I wasn't going to go. "Come on Y/N, I want to make sure you're alright". I looked up at him, he was worried, it was written all over his face. But how could I be sure it wasn't all a game- the Salvatore boys liked games. I wouldn't be tricked by Damon.

"Okay- if we must" I nodded weakly and tried to stand, Damon supported me wrapping an arm around my waist and the other held my left hand. "This is the longest stomach cramp I have ever endured" I stated as we left his room. Damon told the others where we were going and insisted he didn't need any of there help, he then proceeded to help me into the car. I didn't know lots about this Morden day vehicle, but the pain I was in made me glad it went faster than a horse.

We arrived at the hospital and Damon once again helped me out the car. He used what he called 'vamp speed' to get round to me quicker than I could even blink. But that just made me even more weary of him. What other powers did he posses, what could he do to me? We rushed into the hospital and it was there I saw exactly what he was capable of. He compelled the doctor to give all his attention to me. I was rushed into a room and had scans done on my stomach. The doctor left to get my results, filling the room with awkwardness. I didn't want Damon in here to hear what was wrong with me.

But he was adamant he had to take care of me. "What was it like? waking up in there?" Damon asked me softly, as if he didn't want to offend me. I turned my head to him and blinked just staring for a second, maybe two. "Like I had just woken up from a sleep- but I did not realise how long it had been" I sharply put turning my attention away from him again. "Is there anything I can do to make up for what I did?". "Do you understand how absurd you sound- not only did you abuse me- physically and mentally- committed adultery, you got me stuck in another time, I missed my friends growing up, my parents will never watch me become wedded, and I have to fit into a world I was never supposed to be in".

Damon took a deep sigh in, he knew I was right. "God- what is wrong with me- I suppressed all the guilt for so long, I really mean it when I tell you i'm feeling it" he told me talking in a soft sympathetic voice. "Perhaps I believe you, but that does not change the past- or how I feel towards you" I told him harshly, I saw from the corner of my eye that he opened his mouth but in that second the doctor walked into the room. "I have good news" he smiled clutching his papers to his chest. "And- not so good news" he took a seat next to me and smiled.

"The not so good news is you are very malnourished my dear, it looks as if you haven't had a meal in 100 years" he chuckled trying to make a joke, but I looked at Damon gritting my teeth pissed off with him. "Well what's the good news?" Damon asked so that id stop looking at him. "The baby seems to be perfectly healthy, you just need to have a few large meals, gain some weight otherwise when you come to giving birth or even being heavily pregnant, complications will be serious".

"What- what are you talking about? what baby?" Damon questioned sitting on the edge of his seat. "D-did you not know you were pregnant?" he looked to me over the top of his glasses. "I- I did not" I muttered feeling my arms cross over my stomach protectively. "Thank you- doctor" I blinked staring at my arms. "Good luck with everything" he smiled sweetly before getting up and leaving.

I didn’t move. Not my body, not my mouth. “I-is it mine?” Damon asked me eventually. “Of course it is” I snapped at him throwing my legs off the bed and facing him. “Just because you commuted adultery does not mean I did too” I frowned at him angrily. “No I know- I just- I dunno it was a stupid question I just needed to say something” he admitted, but he didn’t have the same reaction as me. I saw a little smile forming on his face. “How is this funny” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Y/n I’m not laughing” he sighed rolling his head onto his shoulder and presenting a bigger smile now. “I’m happy- you know I’m - technically I’m dead I thought I was never going to procreate- I- this is a miracle”. Excitement definitely danced in his eyes, it was obvious- spread across his face and it was starting to flow through his body. His fingers were fidgeting now. “Y/n I am going to show you I’ve changed- we’re going to have a family together and I will never- ever let anyone hurt you or our child” he told me getting up and holding my hands in his. “I promise”.

“That is a ambitious promise Damon- considered you are the only one who has hurt me before” I told him standing up now. His body was close to mine, we were almost touching. I had forgotten how tall Damon was compared to me, he towered over me. But all I felt was fear. “How can I move past what has happened when you frighten me?” I whispered looking into his deep blue eyes. “You give me a second chance- you have to Y/n I’ve changed, please that’s all I ask of you” he begged me with those eyes of his. Those eyes that he could bat and get anything he wanted. By almost everyone.

“I simply cannot answer yet- it seems this new world allows women to have some power, maybe I must take that into consideration” my arms folded across my chest. My feelings were more than conflicted. “Of course, you can take all the time you need, I’ll take you home” he replied, the happiness had been almost ripped away from him, he only showed desperation now. Damon put a hand on my back as we walked back out towards the car. The journey home was silent, I watched the roads to see how mystic falls had changed.

And oh it had changed.

I went back into the house leaving Damon trailing behind me. “You can go back to the room if you feel like you want to be alone- I’ll get you some food you must eat” he told me. I didn’t turn around or say anything to him. Just climbed the stairs heading back up to the room. Damon walked into the living room where Stefan was sitting with Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. “Hey” Elena smiled, happy he had just walked in. “How’d it go?” Stefan raised an eyebrow. “Um- I’m gonna have a kid Stefan” the older brother looked him in the eyes from across the room.

“She’s? No? Really?” Stefan stuttered, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. “She’s pregnant” Elena spat out, her face covered in envy. “Yeah” Damon cracked a smile as he nodded his head. “I’m gonna be an uncle?” Stefan joined him standing up. Damon continued to nod and he let out a small laugh. His brother walked round the sofas to embrace him. “Congratulations brother” he whispered in his ear. “So what you’re going to start a family with her now?” Elena jerked her head back making Damon look back at her.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do- once she forgives me” he scratched the back of his head. “But what about us?” Elena blinked folding her arms tightly. “There is no us Elena- we broke up got together broke up again- we were toxic” “we were working on things” she interrupted sitting forwards now. “Not anymore, my Fiance is upstairs, the mother of my child- you where exactly what Katherine was, a distraction” he told her and with that he walked away from the conversation and into the kitchen to make some food.

About ten minutes later Stefan camp ran into the room, Damon turned to him with a confused look. “Why do you look so concerned” he tutted going back to what he was doing. “Damon- you need to go upstairs” he told him sternly. “I’m about to, just need to finish this sandwich” he murmured not paying much attention to his brother. “Damon, now” Stefan warned him, “it’s about Y/n” “is she okay?” Damon turned round fiercely, paying more attention now. “She’s gone”. Damon’s eyes blinked a couple times and he dropped the knife running off in a flash.

Stefan wasn’t far behind him. “I came to congratulate her and I found this note” Stefan sighed pointing at the bed. Damon couldn’t find any words, he wondered over to the bed and picked it up.

𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒟𝒶𝓂ℴ𝓃，

ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉， 𝒾 𝒶𝓂 𝓉ℴℴ． 𝒲ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓉ℴ𝑔ℯ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒾𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ𝒹 𝓂ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃．ℐ 𝒹ℴ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒾 𝒷ℯ𝓁ℴ𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉．𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒾 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝓊𝓇ℯ ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒾 𝒶𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓌． ℐ𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓂ℯ 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃， 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇，𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝒾 𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒸𝒽ℴ𝓈ℯ𝓃 𝓉ℴ 𝒻ℴ𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊． ℐ 𝒶𝓂 𝓈ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈，𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔ℯ𝒹 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎ℴu, 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓂ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒾 𝓃ℯℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂， ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓀ℯℯ𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓎ℴ𝓊．

𝒲𝒽ℴ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌𝓈，𝒾 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓈ℴℴ𝓃．

ℒℴ𝓋ℯ 𝒴／𝓃

“Well fuck…”.

Damon Salvatore masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward, and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK.

Heavily inspired by my Zelink thoughts

I wanted to dig into the dirty, grimly reality of being the saviors of the world and not knowing how to be the savior of yourself. But you can find that safety in another person.

Fan fiction warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual smut (in later chapters, characters are consenting adults), references to self-harm, eating-disorders, and a lot of angst. Each chapter will have chapter-specific warnings.

Chapter one: I used to tie your shoes

Song: We’ll never have sex by Leith Ross

Summary: Fresh off Hyrule Field, Link and Zelda have to face life after the Calamity, and come to terms with the long road to physical, emotional, and mental recovery.

Warnings: Vomiting, trauma, canon-typical violence, eating-sensitivity

Word count: 3.7k words

Author’s Note: I am so excited to share this. Please share and support this in anyway. I drew this art for the cover :) chapter begins after the page break. I love you guys. Also, these chapters won’t be heavily edited. Ignore any grammatical/spelling errors pls

Time. We never seem to have enough time. Green grass burns soft red embers into the field, a horse’s mane is rebraided at the nearest stable, and the stars shine as if nothing changed. Because it hadn’t, not really. The sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. The birds will still sing their songs at daybreak and the fireflies will still flicker at dusk. Nothing changed, but everything did. The air feels lighter, the sun feels warmer and yet Zelda’s fingers still shake as if she was in the snowy Hebra peaks.

The Princess by nature, is very gentle. She’s soft and patient at heart, but was placed under such strenuous situations all through her youth that caused her to often snap or lash out. But not now. Currently she is silent, stone-cold and confused. She was in shock. And Link could tell.

“Here.” He pulls out a baked apple from his pack, handing it to her. He has to get her attention twice before she finally takes it, their hands brushing for a moment. Her awareness returns to her gaze then, her bright-green eyes meeting his.

“I-I’m so sorry.” She sighs, her voice weak. “I’m just… so tired.” Link tries not to show his distress, but she notices his demeanor change as well. “How much further?” She says, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Probably another hour and a half. It’s just through those mountains.” He points.

“Dueling peaks. I remember.” She nods. “I remember everything.”

“Everything?” He asks as he starts to dig around a pack on the rear end of Epona, searching for his rito attire. It was starting to get dark, and she hadn’t stopped shaking since they left Castle Town almost three hours ago.

Zelda nods once.

Her silence speaks volumes.

He yanks out his snowquill armor, finally. “Do you remember anything from the last hundred years?” She doesn’t answer right away, she instead takes a smaller than small bite out of the apple. “Zel? Can I put this on you? You’re still shivering.” He asks, looking at her blank, traumatized stare. “It’s from the Rito, it’s soft as a cloud and will keep you warm for the rest of the way.”

“The Rito.” She sighs. “Revali…”

Link realizes that she hasn’t had any time to process what she just went through. She had spent the last one hundred years deeply focused, probably in a trance-like state. He places a hand on her cheek. “Look at me.” His voice is gentle and welcoming, not forcing her at all. She looks at him, their eyes locking. “Breathe with me.”

They take two deep, heavy breaths. They sync their inhales, exhaling together.

“It’s over. It’s all over, okay?” He reassures her. “It’s not coming back. It’s just us now, alright?”

She swallows, still emotionless. “You’ve changed.” She says.

“So have you.” Link smiles in an attempt to comfort her. “Can I put this shirt on you?” He asks again. She answers faster than she usually had, nodding twice this time. Link bunches up the excess fabric before pulling the head-opening over her hair. He then guides each one of her hands through the arm-holes. Link takes a moment to adjust the garb around her torso until it was probably positioned around her shaking body. She immediately sighs in relief.

“You talk more.” She mumbles, looking at him as he gently wraps his fingers around her long, golden hair and softly pulls it out of the shirt, knowing how much it irritates him when his hair is loose underneath a shirt.

He smiles again, “I do. Some people say I don’t shut up.” He tries to lighten the mood.

“Like who?”

“Impa.” He sighs.

Zelda’s eyes light up with that name. “Impa?”

He hums and nods. “We can go visit her when you’re feeling stronger, okay?”

“Okay…” Zelda looked down into her lap, the skirt of her goddess dress was barely white anymore. “I am going to get stronger, right?” She asks, her voice tender and broken.

Link’s heart sinks. Not because he’s worried she won’t, but rather because he feels responsible for putting her in this state.

“Of course.” He reassures. He believed it. He wanted to believe it.

“I’m… just so tired.” She repeats herself.

“I know, come on, let's get you a bed.” He then picks her up bridal style from the ground. They had stopped in the first place to get that rito armor for her. She rests her head against his chest as he lifts her onto Epona. She smells like burnt oil and exhaustion. He probably isn’t smelling any better.

They wouldn’t get to Hateno until noon at the earliest tomorrow, and traveling wasn’t doing anything for her recovery. He gets on Epona behind her, letting her weak body rest against his chest as they make their way to Dueling Peaks Stable. The road is quiet, so much quieter than it ever has been. The pair of lizalfos always swimming in the river aren’t there, and even the crickets suppress their chirps.

It’s post-apocalyptic. Literally. Link isn’t sure how to feel.

She throws up a few hundred feet from the stable. She gags and lurches over the side of the horse, somehow managing to keep it off of anyone. Not much comes out, she hasn’t eaten in over a century, but Link frowns when he realizes the apple probably triggered it. He silently curses himself out for causing her any form of distress. She dry heaves violently, and Link tries to hold her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. When she finishes, she holds her breath.

She can’t decide if she feels like she lost a bit of dignity or not. She holds back the tears that well in her eyes. Link breathes in to say something, but she raises her hand in protest. She would rather they act like it never happened. Neither of them say anything from there on, they just keep riding the final minute of the journey.

Everyone at the stable was asleep except for an attendant… who was also treading precariously between consciousness and a deep rest behind the counter.

“Excuse me?” Link asks to wake him up, hopping off of Epona after making sure Zelda would still be comfortable in his absence. She would never admit she wasn’t.

The man stirs awake with a jolt. He yawns, slightly startled, “So sorry, young man.” Link wouldn’t necessarily call himself young. He smirks softly.

“I’d like to board this horse till the morning, and we’d like one soft bed, please.” Link nods before setting down the required rupees. The man squints his eyes, taking the money in hand.

“Ah! It’s you! Link, was it?” He asks when Link turns his back to help Zelda down from the horse. “Jeez, you haven’t passed through here in at least six months! We were holding onto that old mare for you!” He gestures to their stables where a small gray spotted horse sleeps. Link’s first horse since he woke up from his century-long slumber. He only rode her in the beginning, when he was doing chores between Hateno, Kakariko and one time a longer trip to Zora’s Domain. But she’s old and weak, which is why she was easy to catch when Link was still regaining his strength. He stopped taking her out when he found Epona in the western part of Central Hyrule.

“Yeah… you guys can let her free.” He says as he sets Zelda down on the ground. She holds her cold hands together.

“Well uhh.. we tried. You see, after four months at a stable we let go of any forgotten pony’s, but she kept coming back.” He chuckled, his voice exhibiting a distinctive nasality.

“Here,” Link hands him a red rupee, not wanting to discuss an old horse any longer when he literally has the closest thing to a God in this world resting her head on his back. “Keep her for another month, I’ll come take care of her then. Okay?” Link asks. “Can I get that bed now?” Not impolite or forceful, he never was. He’s assertive but has a comforting cadence to his tone. For being such a talented swordsman, guard and easily the most deadly hylian in the entire kingdom, he was never rude or condescending. He was welcoming, and little kids often looked up at him with intimidation when they first met him, but it didn’t ever take long until they were chasing him with tree-branches while he fled and begged for mercy, letting them take him down with ease. The kids at the stables loved him, knew him by name, and would play as him in their silly pretend games.

The stable-man replies, “Of course! But you only asked for one bed, it’s not big enough to fit both of you.”

“I know, it’s for her not me.” Link then starts to guide her into the stable, where it’s much warmer and safer. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it's safe. Hyrule is a dangerous place by nature, especially if you’re two century-old Gods being hunted for sport with the faces of children.

“You won’t sleep?” Zelda asks quietly behind him.

He doesn’t directly answer, and instead guides her to the bed. She’s weary, and he’s terrified of her not waking up. He wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to. He helps the Princess sit in the bed, and kneels before her to untie her sandals. When he touches the leather, he immediately gets transported into another memory.

It rips through him, just like the memories he had images of. Suddenly, he’s kneeling in the same position, but instead he was outside of the spring of courage. He looks up to see the clear sky, it’s sunset, and then his eyes meet Zeldas. Her face is rosy, and her eyes don’t have the blank stare they possess in the current time. He looks down at his fingers, tying the straps around her ankle.

“Really, you don’t have to do that.” She hums. He doesn’t respond. He never did back then. He finishes wrapping the leather around itself and then stands up. His face is emotionless. She looks at him, they’re about the same height. “I won’t be long this time.” She says. “I’m not expecting much anyways.” She sighs and then walks past him, but before she can get very far, he gently grabs onto her arm, holding her back. He doesn’t say anything but she can read his expression. He’s trying to tell her to have faith this time, just one more time.

Surely the Goddess would commune with her.

She shakes her head, and wades into the warm waters of the spring. Link turns to watch her, how her hair cascaded down her back, how her hands balled into fists. She turns around to look at him, their eyes meet. She smiles.

He comes back as fast as the scene played in his memory. He blinks a few times, and looks up at her. She doesn’t look any different, very little—if any—time seemed to pass. He doesn’t usually experience memories with someone, he wonders if she realized anything happened. Link didn’t even consider the fact he would keep receiving memories after the fact. His stomach turns, he feels like he’s lived two completely different lives and is forced to remember things from one that he doesn’t even relate to anymore. He doesn’t feel like the same person, the boy he was a hundred years ago is a complete stranger to him.

Link much preferred this life.

And that scares Zelda.

“I just remembered something.” He says. Zelda hums in response, a light-hearted noise that implies an inquiry. He elaborates, “I used to tie your sandals for you at the springs, didn’t I?” He asks.

Zelda smiles for the first time since they defeated Ganon. It’s a small pull of her lips, not showing any teeth but her eyes finally light back up. After she had asked if he remembered her on the field, she collapsed, not even aware of her own exhaustion until that moment. He ran to her aid, and ever since then she felt woozy, it only got worse the further from the castle they got.

“You did, yes.” She says. “I never asked you to, but since I was in the dress, you insisted.” She sighs. Link grunts in response. “It was very chivalrous.” Zelda adds.

They look at each other for a minute. Not saying anything. It was late, and two beds down there was a set of kid brothers sleeping. Link remembered them from their last visit. One of them wanted nothing to do with him, trying to act mature and ‘cool’. Link eventually won him over, though. They don’t speak out of fear of waking anyone. Zelda’s smile slowly fades away, and Link swallows thickly. They will never be the same.

He pulls her sandals off, her feet are filthy with century-old mud. He silently smiles about that. The closest thing to a Goddess in the entire world has dirty feet. How human of her.

Then, after pulling down the heavy rito-down blanket so she can slide in, he helps Zelda swing her legs into the bed. He pulls the blanket up to her neck, she lays on her side facing him. Her hands find their way up to her face, resting her cheek against them. Link pulls a short stool over to the bed, sitting on it and looking at her, bending at the waist.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” She asks in a timid, sleepy voice.

Link’s heart just about breaks when she asks. “Never.” He shakes his head. He takes his gloved hand and tucks a piece of her loose hair behind her pointed-ears. He lets his fingers linger a little bit longer than they should. “I will never ever leave you again.”

“Promise?” She asks, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Promise.” He whispers, “Just as long as you promise to never leave me, okay?” He asks, ignoring the lump in this throat.

“Promise.” She says, taking her pinky finger and sticking it out for him. He wraps his finger with hers, which is far daintier and softer than he's ever been. She is a Princess, after all.

“Wake up in the morning, okay?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” She hums as her eyes slowly close. He tries to disconnect their pinky fingers, but she holds onto his. He leaves his hand in that position, letting her hold it until she falls fast asleep.

Link doesn’t move his hand until he’s certain it won’t wake her up from her much needed rest. He looks at her gentle, soft face. No one even understands what she just went through, no one ever will. He’s worried sick that she won’t make it through the night, and he keeps leaning his head down to listen to her breathing, or places a few fingers against her forehead to check her temperature.

He does his best to stay vigilant the entire night, not once even looking away from her. But just before the sun rises, his body suddenly catches up with his mind. He also just had the most demanding battle of his life. His muscles started to ache, and he developed a headache. He was just a boy, after all. More than anything, his sword arm was weak, and fire-hot pain shot up and down through it. He probably overused it fightin the calamity.

He keeps telling himself that he’s fine. He has to be fine, for Zelda. His arm isn’t that bad, what really hurts was his heart. Usually he’d just down a fairy tonic and maybe go to the hot springs if he was in the area but this pain was different. A twisting and contracting ache in his chest pulled and tugged on his lungs and pulse. It’s the same pain he felt when he remembered Mipha, and more specifically, the pain he felt when he dreamed about his family before the resurrection.

The dream that gave him the memories of a little sister with blonde hair like his collecting fireflies in her pockets. Her laugh echoing, the call of an older man, the image of a royal guards sword leaned up against the dinner table. The touch of his father’s hand as he rubs Link’s back to sleep.

Link’s first sword.

He wakes up like a fire, standing up and almost toppling over. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. He could hear the soft tune of the penny whistle playing the standard stable theme, and the two little brothers played tag outside. He curses and looks down at Zelda.

Her bed is empty, and his heart completely stops. He starts breathing hard and heavy, his entire nervous system feels as though it’s pulled into stasis. How could he make such a foolish mistake? He swings his sword over his back, strapping his shield to his leathers and turns around in a wild-hunt to see the Princess sitting at the round stable table, drinking out of a mug and speaking gently with an older man.

Link takes a breath of relief, and approaches the two.

“Good Morning.” She smiles up at him. Her voice sounded much better, and her eyes finally had life back into them, but she still wasn’t herself. Her skin still looked sickly, her face hollowed out and eyes droopy. Any progress is good progress, Link decides then and there.

“I… didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Link sighs. “I’m so sorry. When did you wake up?”

“Oh not long ago, maybe twenty minutes? I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“You should have.” He interrupts her and her words get swallowed out of surprise. Link realizes that he snapped at her a little, and immediately becomes apologetic. “I’m sorry, again. I just…”

“You’re worried about me. I understand.” She takes his hand, her bones frail. In many ways, she physically looked worse today than last night. But at least she could hold a conversation. He nods. Zelda notices the tension, and changes the subject, “This kind gentleman was telling me about when you saved the stable from a horde of lizalfos about a year ago.”

Link looks over at the man, Giahzo. “Oh that was nothing, it was just two green lizalfos and a blue one who wandered too close to the stable.” Link hums. Their hands were still held together by Zelda.

“Don’t be so modest!” The old man chuckled, “Without you, it would have been a disaster! The number of monsters means nothing, especially when you don’t know how to fight!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Link smiles and then realizes he and Zeldas hands, he’s the one to pull it away. “What are you drinking?”

“I’m not sure…” Zelda begins and Link immediately snatches the mug from her hand. “Hey!”

“You can’t just drink something mysterious.” Link scolds.

“Oh it’s just a bit of Hateno Milk.” The man assures. Link looks at him, then Zelda, and then into the mug to see the creamy liquid. He brings it to his nose and smells it, and then takes a sip of it. Sure enough, it was just milk.

“I’m sorry, Giahzo.” He apologizes and places the mug back down. “I’m just on high alert.”

“Do not apologize to me, apologize to this lovely young lady you’ve graced us with.” The elderly man smiles with a chuckle, his eyes wrinkling up with his age. Zelda smiles, blushing a little, “Tell me, dear, where are you from? We don’t get many new faces at this stable these days.”

Zelda looks at him, her eyes sad. A hundred years ago every person in Hyrule knew her face. She looks at Link, unsure how to answer.

“She’s from the Outskirts stable.” Link covers for her. “Her family used to reside in Central Hyrule before the Calamity.”

“Yes.” Zelda immediately chirps, “We’re headed to Hateno for…”

“A honeymoon!?” Giahzo smiles brightly. Both Link and Zelda freeze in their tracks, and Link hopes he doesn’t look as embarrassed as he feels. “Hateno is a great Honeymoon destination! Although I’ve heard Lureline is even more splendid!” He clasps his hands together.

“Research.” Zelda clarifies, “so sorry to disappoint.” She chuckles politely, making a conscious effort not to look at Link. “I’m researching… population dynamics in Hyrule.” She makes something up that sounds completely believable.

“Of course.” Link then says, “I’m just escorting her there, we are total strangers.”

That breaks Zelda’s heart.

She knows he’s just trying to be extra careful, pushing her anonymity as much as possible. And in a way, it wasn’t a total lie. But it cut her like a knife.

“I see…” Giahzo doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by. Hopefully the monsters will start to die down.” He smiles and stands up, moving outside.

Zelda is still afraid to look at Link, and he’s a little bit shaken up by the entire interaction. He knows the Yiga are still out there, he knows that there are people who will try to take advantage of her for power or money. He has no reason to suspect anything from the old man, but he can’t help himself from being deliberate. He senses her tension and walks back to the bed to gather their things.

“You should have woken me up.” Link says as he picks up a satchel full of food and readjusts his gloves.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was timid and tired. He turns around to see her, her green eyes looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t know it would worry you so.” He approaches her.

“Of course it worries me.” He sighs. “I spent three years trying to get you out of that castle, I’m not gonna lose you on the first night.” He holds his hand out for her to trade, helping her up. She must not have rested as well as he thought, because as soon as she gets on her feet, she almost topples right over him. He catches her, holding her up before she collapses. “Woah there.” He mutters. “You alright?”

She nods, “Let’s just get to that house you told me about.”

—

chapter two

[ruporas]

Hi there, this might be stupid but I don't have anyone else to spew this to so I suppose you just have to endure my self-indulgent ramblings. Sorry in advance!! I've been thinking a lot about, like, Wolfwood with wings? Not like, an AU where he's been a Plant all along but where something happened that forced them out of him, maybe something with the tincture/vials or being in the proximity of one of Vash's sisters when he takes one or perhaps even something the Eye of Michael did right at the beginning that was lying dormant until they felt the ned to active it, I don't know- this probably sounds so stupid. I'm just imagining this painful, confusing, otherworldly thing happening to Wolfwood that he doesn't understand, seeing the black feathers crawling across his skin and sprouting from his shoulders, thinking himself more of a monster than he already is because he obviously isn't human, he isn't Plant, he isn't even like Vash, so what is he other than another kind of monster, more fucked up than he used to think that Vash was?? And Vash just looking at Wolfwood with his sharp claws and his fangs and his glowing eyes and the feathers sprouting from his arms and face and chest, at the big black wings that extended from his back to stretch around him like a funeral shroud, understanding the pain and the fear and the feral instability of something unthinkable happening that he couldn't comprehend, knowing that Wolfwood was thinking about himself as a monster just like Vash did, and being in the unique position of being able to help him through it, helping him understand what was happening to him and aiding in dissipating the feathers and fangs and claws and helping him recover in the aftermath. I don't know, this might be stupid and crazy but. I can't stop thinking about it. Thank you for coming to my ridiculous self-indulgent TED talk, thank you for everything you do.

hello! omg, getting this was such a lovely surprise, i love seeing the passion in this au. i love the concept of wolfwood with wings too (specifically a huge #fan of guardian angel wolfwood or some sort of angel with smaller wings than vash).

wolfwood is such a meant to be human, made to be human character that it always makes me a little sad to dip him into the creature zone because the confusion and distress he'd inevitably experience hurts me afgmskgmsd but Regardess, it's always a good angsty concept. piling on top of the way he views himself already, it's as though those thoughts physically manifest themselves and air it out for everybody to see. unable to deny what he has become when it's presented in such a blatant way.

from the way it's described, i'm imagining this to be like… mid way through the story, close to vol 7 :3 i think something like this happening after vash got his big scare with his powers becoming open to the world, a monster now openly claimed and known, he'd be scared, wracked with guilt, and struggle to navigate his own vulernabilities to properly help wolfwood. at the same, wolfwood is understanding vash better, acknowledging the person he is despite his other worldliness and thinking of the impending doom on humanity if vash doesn't get to knives, i think amidst his own self loathing, it's touched by fretting over vash and wanting to not hold them both down with this abrupt transformation. he'd likely push down his own fear to try and find a direct solution to stop the height of the transformation, to which vash would likely shred a sliver of vulnerability to give objective advice/assistance.

i like the idea of them settling down later and both of them being in the "what the fuck do we do now" phase and having no answer but can only discover the answer by navigating it slowly. having something like this happen would forcibly open a conversation of their experiences, i think, especially for wolfwood who might have to talk a bit about his EoM experience to give an inkling on how something like that could've happened. it's both kind of sweet and depressing how they'd get the chance to communicate more of their life to each other through this :'] an almost parallel experience… and i think vash would have to think about what could define a monster, he'd certainly view himself as one but not wolfwood.

i wish i had more creative fuel to churn your vision out into a drawing but i couldn't come up with anything cool enough to match the descriptions…

i'm not sure if you've seen it from me yet, but i did do a plant-related thing that follows a similar horrified discovery for wolfwood / being changed into a half-human half-plant sometime ago, in case you might want to see more feathery woowoo! it has trimax spoilers (post trimax) so heed warning, but here's the asks:

thank you for sharing this with me! it's fun to think about it, always a joy to wolfwood in Situations… just constantly experiencing the horrors, but at least he isn't alone..!

[mukimokai]

hey you!!!

wanna hear one of my fic ideas for a canon rewrite that will absolutely shatter your heart????

yeah...

you've been warned..

.

TW!!!

dr//g ab*se, attempted su!c!de

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alhaitham attempted to overdose after the argument with kaveh over their thesis.

.

they basically screamed each others throats off that day; they've argued over their differing ideals before but it was never this bad, and the fight eventually got a bit physical, and there was a lot of hairpulling, scratching, pulling each other up by the collar, because they weren't just arguing about the thesis anymore, they were mad at each other. until alhaitham pointed out kaveh's fatal flaw, how his altruism is going to fail him one day, and kaveh, who can't handle the truth, yanks at alhaithams hair again, telling him to fuck off, that he wishes he never met him, all through pained, angry tears. and then, he lets go and leaves, bolting out the front door and not even bothering to close it.

it was one of the first times in alhaitham's life that he had ever let his emotions get the better of him, and he watched kaveh run out of the door, panting and shaking, tears prickling the corners of his eyes out of pure, unadulterated frustration. and alhaitham realizes at this moment that he'd lost someone. again.

oh yes, alhaitham's all alone again!! no one cares about him anymore!! he'd just lost the last person in the world who gave a damn!! silly alhaitham!! all because you're you. because you had to open your mouth again. because you had to say something. all you wanted was to help, but nobody understands that. nobody ever will. to them, you're just a cold, calculated, arrogant, cocky, bastard. and look what you've done now.

the thought breaks him, and he crumbles to the ground in what can only be described as a meltdown, a very violent one. vases are shattered, kitchen wear chucked across the room, books thrown around carelessly, all while he screams curses into the air, directed at no one, maybe at Kusanali, maybe at Celestia, who knows, but he screams anyway, bordering on babbles as he stumbles to his room, dizzy and distressed and grabs the bottle of prescription drugs (working on what kind of drug currently). It's not full, it's almost empty actually, only about 10 tablets at the bottom, but alhaitham, hands shaking, laughs incredulously at himself, and eats all of them.

or at least: tries to...

the commotion he'd made upset his neighbours. initially, they were storming over to his house with the Matra beside them to have him taken care of but upon arrival, they were horrified. The matra with them practically tackled alhaitham, making him spit out the 3 pills he had in his mouth when they found him in his room; he had already taken 5. they dragged him to the bimarstan as fast as he could, the neighbours following in terror and worry.

alhaitham was saved that day and the memory still haunts him. he was so clouded with emotion he'd lost all sense of what he was doing and just felt, and it scared him how his own feelings took control of him. At that point, alhaitham only closed up even further, basically forcing on his poker face and shoving down his feelings because he never wanted to feel so vulnerable again. he doesn't want to feel. it hurts to feel. strong feelings only bring pain. more pain than alhaitham could bear.

so alhaitham chose to hide this story, he never told anyone about it, not even a single detail. but kaveh, who moved back in eventually and now lived with alhaitham for about a year since their argument, was tidying up when he found a bottle of pills under alhaitham's bed, it was practically empty, only 2 pills remained.

concerned, he questions alhaitham about it later and it was the first time he'd seen alhaitham genuinely look scared. when kaveh explained he'd found it under his bed, alhaitham snatched away the bottle and disposed of it in the trash, cursing himself for not having found it last year when the incident happened and couldn't believe it had been there the whole time.

kaveh isn't an idiot, he pieced it together the moment he saw alhaitham's reaction. he just stands there, completely speechless and horrified. all he can say is "when..?"

and alhaitham, for the first time since their school years, responds in a shaky, miserable voice, "a year ago."

and kaveh is stunned, just staring at alhaitham, who seemed so unreachable when he moved in, suddenly looking so heartbreakingly vulnerable.

he doesn't say anything.

kaveh just hugs him, buries alhaitham's face into his shoulder and hugs him. and he swears he can hear soft, weak sounds coming from the scribe, and he swears the fabric over his shoulders became damp, but he doesn't say anything.

he just holds him.

i'm sorry. come at my throat all you'd like.

⠀

⠀

⠀

[dewdewick]

Shadows in the dust | Chapter 2

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem reader

Summary: At the age of 18 you thought you’d soon be free of the hunger games, unfortunately fate has a different plan. You are picked as a tribute for district 2 and thrust into capitol life.

Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Trust issues, Death, Torture, Mental illnesses, manipulation tactics, Weapons, Swearing, Canon typical violence, Mentions of psychological distress, Use of Y/N, Fem reader, descriptions of clothing reader wears, explicit descriptions of weapon use, poison use

A/N: Thanks for waiting so long! This chapter was a bit tricky but I’m finally happy with how it’s turned out. My ask box is open if anyone has any suggestions or requests while I work on the next chapter.

Word count: 5.4K

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Dark.

All she can see is dark.

Her hands come up in front of her, feeling for her surroundings. Nothing can be found, all she can perceive is the immense blackness surrounding her. All at once the world explodes into color, white light invading her senses and making her eyes burn. Colors assault her eyes, stinging alongside the bright light.

She squints, first looking at her hands. Crimson covers her from fingers to elbows, thick and sticky. The smell of iron hits her nose, making her mouth taste metallic. She takes in a sharp breath, the sight making her stumble back. She trips over a blunt object, falling back onto the ground.

She is met with the face of her sister, face pale with cloudy eyes. Blood splattered across her once warm body, lying cold on the white tile. She chokes out a strangled noise, trying her best to crawl her way backwards but stops suddenly as she comes into contact with a slimy substance. Her head whips around, her hand lying in a mix of vomit and coagulated blood. The smell of bile mixes with iron, a sweet scent of death in the air.

Her brother's body lies behind her, a broken neck with those same white eyes staring at her. strangulation marks on his neck and stab wounds littering his torso. She screams, her own voice only further startling her and sending her into the clutches of panic.

A voice loudly shouts to her, she immediately recognizes it as her mother. “Male and Female, only one can remain”

Both her siblings sit up at that moment, screaming simultaneously in pain in sorrow at the utterance of the words. Her mother wails in union with her two children, screaming the same words over and over again. In the distance she sees the woman, rushing towards them in the empty white space. She too is pale and covered with blood, a gaping hole in her stomach.

“ONLY ONE” She shrieks as she finally reaches her living daughter.

Y/N sits up in bed, screaming in horror. She hugs herself with her knees pulled up to her chest and her body erupting in shakes. Tears stream down her cheeks as she sobs into the darkness. “What in the hell was that?!” She manages to think to herself.

An Avox woman opens the door, poking her head in and staring at the panic stricken girl. Quiet as a mouse before then she retreats as suddenly as she had arrived, the door closing behind her. Y/N lets her head rest on her knees as she tries to mentally recover from the horrific nightmare.

A moment later a knock raps on her door, causing her to tense. “‘M fine! Just a nightmare!” She calls out with a shaking voice. The door opens anyway, Finch peeking in with tired eyes and a bed head that could rival the best. “Heard you next door” He explains “you ok? Wanna talk?” He asks, stepping into the room a bit more.

She can only let out a shuddering breath, giving him a shrug. “I don’t know-“ she gets out, cutting herself off with a sharp intake of breath. Finch frowns, walking over to the large bed and sitting on the edge, grabbing the familiar green book from her nightstand. “How about we just try this hm?” He asks gently, moving to sit next to her. He sets an arm around her back in case she wants comfort, and starts to read.

“Chia sage or (Salvia Columbariae) are seeds collected from the spikey, dried seed heads of the aforementioned plant. They are incredibly nutritious and eaten in addition to large meals or as a snack for short term energy.” He speaks softly, looking over at her every other paragraph to try and glimpse her face.

She peeks up at him with teary eyes, doing her best to listen to his words. She tries to take deep breaths, hiccuping every other inhale. His eyes return to the page as he reads more, daring to bring his hand down to rest on her shoulder.

“Certain plants can help lead to water, most can’t grow without a source nearby. These include Willows (Salix spp.) cottonwoods (populus fremontii and other populus spp.) and desert fan palm (Washingtonia filifera).” He reads, nodding along to the book as he runs his thumb along her shoulder.

“Saguaro cacti can also have water in them, and food too.” She remembers quietly, another hiccup escaping her lips. He only smiles, continuing to read as she slowly leans into him.

“Juniper (Juniperus spp.) is a small group of evergreens that can produce wood and fiber for fire. The bushes can also produce wood for hunting bows and a distinct smell to hide one from prey. There are over 45 different types of juniper, all juniper berries containing a powerful oil (Thujone.) These oils can cause upset stomach, diarrhea, and kidney damage when ingested in large amounts. The safest berry to eat is from the most common variety of the bush, (Juniperus communis) and is used to make Gin, medicine and flavor food.”

Her head hits his chest as he continues to read, his breaths and vibrations of his voice quickly lulling her to a tired state. He only continues to read, his body settling deeper into the bed as his arm tightens around the girl. He can't help but melt as the girl cuddles up to him. It’s not long before she falls asleep on his chest, and he follows soon after.

Only a few hours later the two are awoken by the sudden and loud explosion of knocking on the door, Furisha calling them for breakfast. “Training day 2 my lovelies! You mustn’t be late!” She calls into the room, the groggy teens all but groaning at her words.

Y/N sits up first, stretching until her back releases a satisfying popping noise. “Weak” Finch laughs to himself, twisting his body until his spine cracks loudly. She only laughs tiredly, calling him gross and putting a pair of slippers on her feet.

The tributes walk out to breakfast, no longer caring about appearances at that meal. Each was served the hot chocolate they had come to expect, along with an assortment of other delicacies. Y/N picked at her breakfast while Finch devoured everything he could. Their mentors didn’t seem to have much to say at that particular meal, a few comments thrown in for sure but as usual most talking was done by Furisha.

The day was once again gruesome, A few fights breaking out between tributes over puny things like weapons or fire making. The female tribute Dutchess from district 1 continued to glare at Y/N throughout the day, especially hating when her partner Ammo chatted with the girl. Y/N tried to ignore the glares but found it a bit harder as a few more tributes joined in. The girl from district 5 didn’t seem to like her or Finch much either, along with both the tributes from 12.

Tension was high by the end of the day, the tributes all returning to their quarters to eat a quick dinner and prepare for bed. Gamemaker scoring was the next day, and everyone was either much too cocky or terrified.

Dinner consisted of a few roast birds, mostly Turkey, duck and chicken with a few rarities thrown in the mix. Y/N ate white meat Turkey with multicolored caramelized carrots and a dollop of potatoes swirled with orange and white. The dish was served with a dark thick gravy and a sweet red sauce. She ate greedily after the day she had experienced.

After dinner was halfway over Enobaria finally spoke, “So what will you two be doing for your scoring?” She inquired, taking a sip of her red wine. Finch smiled, taking the opportunity to gush about his swordsmanship and ability to throw knives. He had been trained most of his life after all, he had a right to be confident.

Y/N on the other hand bit her lip, she had no idea what to do. What skills did she even have? Maybe show a climbing skill? Or how fast could she run? There wasn’t much of a chance of her getting a great score. “And I’m…deciding?” She said uneasily, giving an uncomfortable smile to the table.

“You have a few skills, it’s just hard to decide what to pick since none can be combined.” Brutus said, taking a bite of a large Turkey leg. Enobaria agreed, “we need to figure out your absolute best skill and market that. Maybe flow with that little princess image Aerith seems to be curating for you.” She said with an almost teasing smile.

Y/N frowned a bit, she hated the portrait that was being painted over her. She wanted to be herself in her last days, not an object for everyone to fawn over. “You’ll do great.” Finch said from next to her, patting her shoulder. Furisha agreed with him quickly, “The doe eyed look can get you some amazing sponsors too! I’ve seen it work plenty.” She mentioned with a bright grin and nod of the head.

That might’ve been the first helpful thing Furisha had said to her, but nevermind that. She had to think of her best skill, a marketable skill. Y/N poked at her dinner as the conversation went on around her. She continued deep in thought as she went to shower and go to bed.

The next morning it came to her, like a message from an oracle. Plants, she was amazing at sorting plants. She could show the game makers her skills with sorting, kindling, edible and poisonous plants. That could be a bit of a salvation when it came to numbers.

She hopped out of bed and put her training suit back on, doing her hair and brushing her teeth before rushing to breakfast to discuss options with her mentors.

The breakfast table was empty as she approached, snatching a cup and downing a glass of juice quickly. She anxiously sat on a couch by the window as she waited for her current companions to arrive. She didn’t have to wait long before footsteps came down the hall, Enobaria walking around the corner.

Y/N perked up, a slight smile on her face. She was excited to share the tiny triumph with her mentor for some reason. “Good morning” she spoke, looking up at the woman who gave a tired smile in response. “I figured out what I can do for the game makers” she blurted out, moving to sit on the edge of her seat.

“You did huh?” Enobaria questioned, pouring a cup of coffee for herself with a raised brow. Y/N nodded, “I’m good with plants, I think I can separate what’s edible from poison.” She revealed a proud smile on her face. Enobaria took a long sip of her coffee, sighing as she looked at the young woman. “You have to do more than that, the games have been going on for a long time and they’ve seen kids exactly like you time and time again.” She explained.

Y/n's brows furrowed a bit as she continued to speak, “You need to really wow the game makers, show them how lethal you can be.” She said, taking another sip of coffee. Y/N frowned at the suggestion “I have no idea what I’m doing, how am I supposed to be lethal if I don’t even want to kill?” She asked, frustrated at the apparent lack of options.

Enobaria looked at her pointedly “You aren't weak and you aren't stupid, you can force yourself to think of it as something other than murder. Think of it as a creation of opportunity rather than the death of a human, it's a way to see your family.” She advised, a hard look on her face. The thought made her sick but she knew to stay alive for more than 10 minutes in the arena she would have to accept the truth of her fate. “Womanhood is survival and you don't have to be particularly strong to do it, you just have to be persistent and when the situation calls for it you need to have venom.”

Y/N unfortunately understood what she was being told, she nodded along as her mentor spoke. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and thought for a moment on the words. “What about poison? I bet I could make something with all the stuff they give us” she thought aloud. Enobaria smiled, all sharp teeth. “That's a start, but we can build on it.” she said, sitting forward in her seat.

The women talked for a few more minutes, strategizing on the best plants and animals for making deathly concoctions. Brutus joined in after a while and gave his thoughts and suggestions, he thought she should rely more on physical strength but Enobaria disagreed. Finch came to breakfast after a few more minutes and as usual most attention was on him, he had a natural charming air about him.

Their breakfast seemed unusual that morning, a mix of fish and rice. Y/N assumed the dishes were common in the fishing districts like 4 or 5, making her mind drift for just a second to that bronze haired mentor with the charming smile and the dimples that could just make her scream. The fish was served with a savory soup, white rice, eggs and sausages. She liked it much more than she thought, the fish was fresh and didnt have too much of a scent and the soup had a certain calming factor with a slight ginger flavor at the end. Finch seemed to enjoy the spicy sauce that was provided, taking a green paste and slathering his fish in the substance.

Breakfast was short but filling, the meal ending with furisha pestering them to get a move on to keep with the day's schedule. The morning seemed to go by quickly as well, Y/N spending most of her time on learning to make fire and studying the plants that were provided. Finch urged her to study with the weapons a bit but her mind was otherwise occupied and she only did a bit of training with the instructors.

By the time lunch had come along she was buzzing with both nervousness and excitement. She ate a simple lunch of sliced meat, cheese and a few pieces of fruit. She felt she could throw up with the amount of excitement bubbling up in her chest. Finally she and the rest of the tributes were led to a large holding room with small numbered benches.She followed Finch and sat on the number 2 bench, directly behind the tributes from district 1. Duchess looked over her shoulder, giving her a displeased tight smile, turning back to her partner and whispering. Y/N chewed her lip, wringing her hands a bit in nervousness.

Finch leaned down to her ear “it's all gonna be ok, they just wanna know what you can do.” he spoke gently. He had turned out to be so much more soft than she imagined, she honestly wondered if he had any bad qualities at all. She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder “Just nervous is all” she muttered. He leaned back into her, warmth radiating off his form. “Surprisingly I'm not, I mean this is what I trained for.” He shrugged lightly. “So you'll be showing your sword and knife skills?” she wondered, glancing up at him. “Most likely, unless I figure out something better in the next 10 minutes,” he joked.

A male voice spoke over the intercom, “Ammo Montgomery, District 1, please report for individual assessment.” Ammo stood up in front of them, patting his companion on the back and heading for the steel gate that opened at the end of the room. How nerve wracking it must've been to go first, to warm up the judges of the group's fate for 23 other people.

Time once again seemed to pass quickly with Dutchess called soon after. Finch did his best to distract Y/N as they waited, telling her a story of how his little sister and the family cat had given him a scar on his wrist. She softly laughed along to the story before once again being interrupted by the voice on the speaker.

“Finch Glenn, District 2, please report for individual assessment” the man said in a monotone voice. She cringed and looked at him, “wish me luck” he said as he stood “ you'll do great too I know it” He encouraged her as he patted her head as he started towards the steel gate. She watched him disappear into what looked like a dark hallway and sat uncomfortably alone. Her eyes searched the group around her and she caught the eye of the girl from district 8, who smiled, the young girl seemed to be nervous as well.

Minutes passed and she felt stuck in her own head, the room was bare with no distractions and it made her feel even more uneasy as she picked at her fingers. Finally her name was called over the intercom as those before her. She stood and looked at the steel gate, making her way over to it quickly.

She made her way down the darkened hallway cautiously, stepping into the light of the empty gymnasium she had trained in earlier that day. She looked up to the skybox where the gamemakers sat, watching her every move. Walking to the center of the room in front of her small audience she stopped, waiting for them to address her in some way. “You have 10 minutes to present your chosen skill.” a man near the center said with a wave of his hand.

“Um Thank you” she said awkwardly, not quite sure what to say to the group of powerful people. She turned to look over the room, spotting a table full of potted plants. That looked like the best place to start, she supposed. Taking stock of the herbs and foliage she noticed quickly that a certain fruit was among them. A Nightchineel was a mix of two extremely deadly plants being Nightlock berries and a Manchineel apple. The fruit constricted the diaphragm muscles, stopping any breathing and setting the nervous system on fire. It also burned the skin badly at one touch of the leaves or juice.

She smiled and took a towel, picking up the fruit and bringing it to a workstation the gamemakers could see. She slipped on a pair of gloves, cutting the fruit and mashing it. She then added a mix of nettles. Ivy, and elderberries to the mix, making a green speckled purple paste. She hollowed out a mango next, careful as possible to avoid breaking the skin and funneled the thick mixture inside.

She stepped up to a test dummy, the ones in the capitol were specifically designed to imitate what a human would do when injured, poisoned or killed. The gamemakers thought it would help give tributes better statistics going into games. She stood back and threw the mango at the dummy, hitting it square in the face. The data showed on a screen next to her, the poison burned the skin and eyes badly. The monitor showed a victim would be disoriented, swollen and have lesions on the skin, if they ingested the liquid the only possible fate would be death.

She looked up to the faces of the gamemakers, hopeful she made an impression. Most remained stoic but she received a few nods from the group at her work. “Thank you” she said once more, awkwardly looking between her observers and the door. “ Is it- am I allowed to go now?” she asked, not wanting to disobey or disrespect the people who held her fate in their hands. One of the men held an open hand towards the door with a nod, signaling it was ok to leave.

She was led by a peacekeeper out of the gymnasium to the arms of her mentors, Furisha and the one she wanted to see most, Finch. He smiled as they saw each other, scooping her up in a friendly hug. “You did it, told you!” he said happily. The hug surprised her and her arms automatically flew around him. She wondered why he seemed to care so much, yes they had known each other as children but he had no real attachment to her after the age of 10. She sank into the hug anyway, his warmth comforting after the anxiety of the presentation.

Furisha looked as if she was about to make a comment but was quickly shut down by a look from Enobaria. The two tributes hugged each other for a moment longer, her face buried in his chest and his cheek resting her head.

They broke away and he held her hand in his own, she looked up at him and he smiled again. Enobaria finally spoke, “Leys get back and get you guys changed, you get to have the night and morning off.” She said with a small smile of her own. Y/N was excited to rest, the days of training had been stressful and she knew she needed a bit of time to lounge before the exhaustion of the games.

The group returned to their quarters and parted ways. Y/N peeled off her training suit, flinging it onto her freshly made bed. She sighed at the small feeling of freedom, rolling her shoulders back and cracking her neck. She opted to throw on a loose grey shirt with a hood attached, stretchy black pants and socks. The outfit was boring compared to some of her previous choices but extremely comfortable.

She walked out to the bookshelves, choosing a book on bugs. She sat on the couch nearby and tucked her legs underneath her, cracking open the red cover. A few pictures littered the pages, anatomical diagrams mostly. The smell of the old paper soothed her and the quiet felt calm.

She read about Arachnids first, the eight legged critters had always made her a bit uncomfortable. She hoped they weren’t too big a part of the games, and if they were she hoped she didn’t encounter them. She heard brutus enter the room, going to rummage about the kitchen before dinner. She kept reading as Enobaria and Furisha entered the room, gossiping about some socialite she didn’t care to remember the name of.

Finch flopped on the couch next to her at some point, turning the television to some channel that talked of betting on the games. He sprawled out with his head laid close to her lap, he doodled in a notebook idly. His need to be close to her was interesting, she didn’t understand it.

Maybe he felt connected because of their shared fate? She thought about it as she stared at the words in her book. He had always been extremely popular in school and around town, his handsome face and kind disposition certainly not hindering the fact. She on the other hand was just a face in the crowd, she had friends yes but people didn’t wave to her on the street like they did for him.

What made her so interesting to him? And was it just friendly interest? Or did he have something more in mind? Was she overthinking or was spark she felt real? She chewed her lip unconsciously, so many questions and possibilities swimming in her head.

“You ok? You’ve been staring at that paragraph and picture of a spider for like…5 minutes now.” Finch asked, interrupting her self interrogation. She blinked rapidly, snapping out of her trance and looking over to him. He looked up at her from his sprawled out position next to her. She nodded, his long lashes and sweet concerned look making a few butterflies flutter around her chest.

“Just got lost in thoughts” she muttered, her eyes meeting his. He suddenly moved upwards and laid his head on her lap, “what about?” He asked. She flushed a bit at the sudden contact “you” she blurred out unintentionally. He smirked and she quickly tried to fix her mistake, “you know like our alliance and how well we do in the arena” she laughed nervously.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night honey” he teased, causing her blush to deepen. She doubled down on her excuses “I mean it! I was thinking about how we could watch each other's backs!” She said defensively. He only smirked, picking her sketchbook back up and running his pencil over the paper again.

She watched the lines he sketched and quickly realized he was drawing her. It wasn’t amazing but it was certainly beautiful in its own way. He drew her the way she looked back home, hair undone and always covered in a light sheen of dust. She smiled at the drawing and gently let her fingers pet his curls. He leaned back into her hand as she did, her nails Scratching along his scalp.

“I wish we could stay like this” he muttered “comfortable and well fed and had time to draw or read when we wanted.” His eyes shifted up once more to meet hers, a soft look in his eye.”Me too” she said with a sad smile, tangling her fingers in his fluffy locks.

He sighed with contentment “You think it’ll be one of us that wins?” He asked. “I hope so” she replied “or that little girl from 8 maybe” she smiled softly and he let out a small chuckle at her optimism. “That’s a sweet thought” he commented, but they both knew the sickening truth deep down.

“I hope it's quick when I go, nothing too painful or drawn out y'know?” she said, setting her book down next to her and focusing both hands in his hair. He nodded, making a sound of agreement “yeah an arrow to the temple would be my first choice.” he said sarcastically. she laughed with a breath through her nose. “Maybe just step off the platform early?” she joked. He offered a small smile, “you and I both know i'll protect you as long as I can sugar” he said looking into her eyes again. “Why though?” she asked, still confused by his fascination with her. He reached a hand up, moving a piece of her hair. “Because you've always been kind to me, even when I didn't deserve it.” He said softly.

“You've always deserved it” she said truthfully, confused by his statement. He simply shook his head, “when I started at the academy I turned into a real jerk for a while, I ignored anyone who didn't offer me some advantage for years but you always just smiled and said hello like normal.” He said with a guilty look on his face. She only laughed softly again, “I just assumed you were busy, and we drifted apart. You were 10 years old, I never thought you were being a jerk.” she smiled, her fingers massaging his scalp.

“And that's why I’ll protect you” he nodded “because after all of that you never stopped being my friend.” The statement made her want to melt, he really was such a softie. She nudged him to sit up and he did, looking at her with a questioning expression. She slowly wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. ‘Thanks,” she whispered “it's nice to have a friend.”

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his head into the crook of her neck, “You smell like summertime.” he said softly and she giggled, “They have peach soap in my shower” she explained. He made a noise of contentment and continued to hug her, “can we stay like this? Just for a minute?” he asked. She simply nodded her head, weaving her fingers through his hair once more. His love language was definitely physical touch, it was just yet another thing she found endearing about him. Her eyes closed and she rested her head atop his, he was so warm and her mind felt fuzzy and relaxed.

After what felt like a few seconds she felt knuckles running over her cheek gently, her eyes opened groggily and she looked around a bit disoriented. Finch held her in his arms, “time to wake up sugar.” he murmured, that slight drawl in his words. “Hmm” she nodded, sitting up and taking her head off his chest. Their mentors and stylists sat on a few couches around them, “welcome back sleeping beauty” , Brutus commented, motioning to the screen in front of them. “It's time for training scores, then dinner ok?” enobaria said, motioning the young women to come sit by her.

Y/N nodded and moved away from Finch to sit by her mentor, sitting straight on the couch and watching Caesar Flickerman prance around the stage she herself would soon be on.”Good evening Panem! Happy Hunger games!” the excitable host began. The crowd cheered for him and he smiled with too white teeth, his hair and eyebrows a shade of pink that resembled plum blossoms. “Why don't we get started with district 1? What do you think?” he asked the crowd, walking over to a desk on the stage. He picked up a stack of cards as he sat and smiled at the crowd once more.

“First on our list, Ammo Montgomery from District 1.” he read off the card, pausing afterwards for dramatic effect. “A score of 10” He grinned as the crowd went wild. “And his counterpart Dutchess Astor, with a score of 9” he continued. The crowd screamed just as they had at the parade, loud and much too heavy on the dramatics. Fans of the tributes from district 1 fanned themselves like they wanted to faint and a few dedicated Actors even pretended to tear up.

Caesar grinned and moved to the next card in the stack “Next is a couple that needs no introduction, our tributes from district 2.” He spoke eyes darting up to the camera. Y/N grabbed Enobaria's hand, suddenly feeling a bit nauseous, Enobaria looked surprised but held her tribute’s hand tightly. “Finch Glenn also with a score of 10” Caesar announced “strong competition from the career districts this year” he commented, wiggling his eyebrows. Furisha let out a small happy shriek at the words, putting a hand on Finch's shoulder and shaking him lightly. Brutus gave a nod of approval and his stylist Hebe gave him a side hug.

“And his lovely counterpart Miss Y/N L/N with a score of 7” The words sent a shiver down her spine and she looked to her mentors. “That's good’ we can work with that” Enobaria assured and Furisha clapped for them. “Oh I am so proud of you both!” she cheered, a genuine smile on her face.Y/N felt happy to at least get an average score, nothing that could put a target on her back. Finch would definitely need to be wary of the other tributes with a high score like that.

The other tributes in the lineup received scores similar to hers, most were given a range of 6 to 8, with the small boy from district 9 receiving a 5 and the girl from 8 getting the same. Her shoulders relaxed a bit when she realized she had done a perfect job at blending into the crowd with her skills. She wondered a bit about the skills others had displayed but was distracted quickly with the smell of food. Finch took her hand once more as they walked to the dining table, sitting next to her and smiling. “I'm really proud of you” he grinned, scooping some food oto his plate. “I'm proud of you too” she replied and he gave her hand a light squeeze before letting go.

Dinner that evening was a Braised chicken dish with grapes and fennel, served on a bed of rice. The sweet cooked grapes melted in her mouth and the wine demi glaze was syrupy and decadent. Dinner was full of high spirits and jokes that somehow got even Aerith to chuckle a bit. In the midst of the chaos and looming thoughts of death, she felt a tiny glimpse of hope.

[ohmygodshesinsane]

THE PRINCESS AND THE PARLEY

for @jilymicrofics / april prompt 15: stage / words: 2194 / rating: mature

“Are you mental?” Lily adjusted her straw hat, casting a panicked look out onto the stage, where James Potter stood giving the performance of his life. Remus rubbed his face, grimacing.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. But I couldn’t ask Mary, and Marlene’s already been out -” He wrung his hands. “I’d send Sirius, I really would, but his evil queen costume takes the best part of thirty minutes to get him sewn into and they’ve already started.”

Lily took a deep breath. She only had two lines to remember – that wasn’t the issue. It was that she’d gone from being a wordless fishwife to the titular character – and naturally, the titular character was a sidelined damsel-in-distress that could have been replaced with an aristocratic lamp. Why Lockhart kept choosing these sorts of plays, she didn’t know. Why had they allowed a megalomaniac of an eighteen-year-old to direct anyway? He wasn’t even making the calls – he was just in the audience basking in it, the useless knob.

 “Lockhart will skin me alive,” Remus said, clasping his hands together. “He’ll wear me as a cloak and use my blood to shampoo his hair. Please, Lily. I’ll owe you. And,” in his begging, he grasped at something. “You’ll humiliate James. He’s expecting Lisbete to prance out. You know he can hardly talk to you. You’ll get the last laugh.”

James. That much was true. In rehearsals, they quarrelled over everything, which was a miracle in and of itself as they were never in the same scene. Fortunately, however, as of late he could scarcely look her in the eyes, which made winning the arguments a lot easier. Lily huffed and folded her arms. “That’s a bit evil, Remus.” He shrugged.

“It’s show business.”

She blew air through her lips. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t lose it if I become a diva.” She hesitated. “And I want kebabs after the show.”

“Whatever you want,” Remus promised. “Anything.”

 Lily skulked further backstage, past where Lisbete sat holding an icepack to her ankle, and reluctantly greeted Dorcas Meadowes.

“I’m the princess now,” she announced glumly. Dorcas blinked.

“Oh.” She looked to the costume rack. “We haven’t much time.”

 Five minutes later, Lily had transformed from a humble villager to the King’s kidnapped daughter, clad in a ridiculously over-the-top pink gown and a matching cone with a long veil. Dorcas hurriedly braided her hair as she repeated her lines under her breath, and then Lily was shoved into the wings as the stage went dark. Benjy and Caradoc threw a red tablecloth over the metal structure that was to be her ‘bed’ and patted it.

“Hop on,” Benjy said, and Lily obliged, sitting on it.

“This is like one of those things they wheel bodies around in the morgue,” she informed him, laying down. It was terribly uncomfortable.

“Well, you would be a body if he didn’t come save you,” Caradoc said. “So it’s a fair thing.”

 They wheeled her past Remus, who gave her a thumbs up and mouthed ‘thank you’, and then out onto the stage. It was terrifyingly empty, the audience glaring with narrowed eyes, trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark. An unfamiliar set loomed around her, with painted castle walls. In her only scene it had been a market square, and there’d been so many people on stage and her so far at the back that she’d been sure nobody was watching her. Now she’d be a main feature. She swallowed hard, and when Benjy and Caradoc hurried off, she was alone. She shut her eyes. Please, please don’t let me fuck up.

 She sensed the lights going up, and James’ voice filled the world. With its disconnection from his actual face, it was almost pleasant-sounding.

“In the depths of the castle lay the Princess Acanthus, locked in an endless slumber, trapped by the Evil Queen Rostra. With every moment,” a clock tick, tick, ticked, “her life ebbed away. If Sir Arthur could not wake her, she would be lost forever.” Lily fought to keep her face still, trying to ignore the gazes of near fifty people on her. The lights warmed, and the clash of swords echoed in her ears.

“En garde! Get back!” James shouted from offstage. “Begone, foul creature!” The swords died and romantic music started as he entered the scene. He gave a strangled cry. An unscripted cry. Lily fought to keep her lips still. It would work with the character, perhaps, but it was all James.

 “Princess?” he gasped, with more question than usual. He padded across the stage. After a moment, she felt the warmth of someone nearby, and the light behind her eyelids changed. “Could - could it be? This is where the Evil Queen has kept you all along? So close, and yet…” he sighed. “So difficult to find. Had I only known.” A rummaging sound. “And this antidote! Why, this antidote! The wizard has promised that this should wake her, and I must believe him. If he has lied…all hope is lost. We will never defeated the Evil Queen. All of Etrariana will be lost to her wicked powers!” His footsteps circled, so that he stood behind her. Lily squeezed her hands where they held each other, praying she kept still. Her body tensed in anticipation of his touch.

 It was all she could do not to jolt when he lay his hands upon hers, heart pounding in her throat. His fingers brushed her cheek. Sleeping. You’re sleeping. Stay still. His thumb touched her lips, and her stomach clenched. His hands were softer than she had expected, and gentler. Something cold replaced his thumb.

“Please, let this potion work. Please, or I will be bereft! So very bereft!” he declared. Lockhart had written the play. He was the sort who named himself a great fan of Shakespeare after reading the Sparknotes of all his works. The mouth of the vial tilted against her lips. Crap. Now she had to wake. She hadn’t thought about how to act that.

 Lily flung her eyes open and sat slightly. James snaked an arm around her. She almost looked to the audience, but his fingers curled around her waist as a reminder. His brown eyes were wide, faintly accentuated by the mascara on his lashes. She had never been so close to him. His breath stroked her cheek. A gold ring outlined his irises, and his lips were slightly parted, revealing a little of his white teeth. It took her a moment to remember what she was to do. She made a small sleepy sound – James held her a little more firmly – and opened her mouth in shock.

 “Prin – princess.” James’ voice shook. She didn’t recall that from the matinee, but then, she had never paid much attention. Lily bit her lip, trying not to smirk. “You – you are awake.” He held her face with his free hand, and guided her gently into leaning back a little more. It sent her a little off-balance. If he pulled his arm, away, she would fall. She had to trust him. The heat of the lights flushed her cheeks. “I feared you would never wake.”

“Sir Arthur!” she said. “You have saved me! I thought I would die here, because of the Evil Queen’s evil intentions. I have been asleep so very long.”

“Of course I saved you,” he said, drawing nearer. Her tongue felt fat in her mouth. “I vowed to be your protector.” It’s worse for him than for you. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. There was colour in his face, too – she must have been harder to prop up than she thought.

“My saviour,” she breathed. “I am so very thankful.” She had to initiate. Her stomach rolled. It was stupid – she had done this plenty of times, with plenty of different people, on dares or dates or when she was drunk or dancing. What did this matter? Lily tilted her head and bridged the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against James’. He inhaled sharply, but it was only the briefest meeting, and he was the first to draw back. His lipstick had smudged a little. That hadn’t been so bad. The first was done.

“Princess,” he said. “Oh, Princess. How I have dreamed of this day.” And then he kissed her. A strike of lightning ran through her. His kiss was hungry, passionate – as it was directed to be – and his tongue swiped her lips. Fine. She could do better than that. She pressed harder against him, tasting the inside of his mouth, and lifted her other hand to hold onto the back of his jerkin. He could take all her weight, if he liked. He kissed her harder, stealing her breaths until she was gasping against him, desperately breathing through her nose, which crashed against his. Fine. If the audience wanted a show – if he wanted to make this a show – that’s what it would be.

 Her teeth skimmed his lower lip, tugging gently, and then she moaned softly. His arm jerked in surprise. She dropped back. No! But he saved her at the last moment, cradling her in his arms, and then lowered her to the table. Now James was directly above her. By rights, the kiss ended there, but she kept on, trailing her fingers up his back until they reached his hair, where she then twisted them into his locks. James leaned over more, pressing some of his torso against hers, and trapped her tongue between his teeth, slowly drawing back and releasing her. Lily could up the stakes. If they were going to send her out to do this with little warning, as a favour, this is what they would get. And besides, he couldn’t win. No fucking way. She arched her body against his, whining a little. He gripped her face with both hands and kissed her harder again, pressing down until the metal of the ‘bed’ was firm against her back. Her head spun, the lack of air getting to her. Her whole body was warm under the glaring stage lights. The music had passed where it was supposed to be, and they were dragging on too long. She had to put an end to it.

 She pulled back as best she could – her head hit the ‘bed’, and he only leaned down further, lipstick now smeared.

“James,” she whispered, very quietly. He flinched and opened his eyes. She stroked his cheek and pulled back, before sitting up of her own power. She could improvise.

“Sir Arthur,” she said, loud enough for the audience to hear, smiling pleasantly. “My saviour. My love.” Even if the line didn’t change the fact that the Princess didn’t pass the Bechdel test, at least she had three lines instead of two.

“We must run, my princess,” he said. Here, he was meant to step back and help her to her feet, but instead he stayed dangerously close. Lily’s palms sweated. Something in her core was on fire. As he let go of her, one finger swiped at the corner of her mouth. He subtly showed it to her as he finally did the blocking he was supposed to. It was marked with red. Her own lipstick had been ruined. He cleared his throat. “We must go now! The Evil Queen will realise I am here at any moment!” He circled to the front of her bed, took her hand, and helped her up. His palms were as gross as hers; she could feel his pulse jumping through his wrist.

 There was only thing left; the music changed and swelled, and he started to run slowly, pulling her offstage. Lily joined him in the overdramatic fleeing, pretending to look terrified, and followed him into the wings.

 As soon as they were in the darkness, James grabbed her waist; she rasped in surprise and he pulled her flush against him, hands stronger than she had known. Her heart raced. His face was only inches from hers, near as close as it had been on the stage. There was a wildness in his eyes, and his hair was still ruffled where she had messed it. Lily scoffed, mostly to herself. Was this his attempt at surprising her? She could do worse.

 She smashed her lips against his, throwing her arms around his neck, and he stumbled backwards. But he returned her kiss with his own, fierce and insistent, and bit her lips. She stepped forward, pushing him against the theatre wall. How did he like being beneath her? But he gripped her waist harder and it became difficult to think clearly; her body ran on pure animalistic frenzy, only caring about his tongue against hers, his lips against her, the taste of his mouth.

 “Are you mental?!” Lily broke from him at once, staggering backwards, and Remus gaped at them, holding his clipboard only by the string-attached pen. Lily smoothed her hair back, attempting decorum.

“You were the one who put me out there,” she said calmly. “I wanted to give it a hundred percent.”

Remus blinked. “Jesus Christ.”

[faeflowerz]

May I request platonic Diasomnia with a first year reader who’s Lilia’s daughter (making her Silver’s younger sister) and she’s half fae but due to where she grew up she became insecure about her pointed ears so she hides them. But she was taken as a baby but she reunited with her family at the dorm selection thing (I forgot what it’s called) because she got teleported to this world for unknown reason (so she’s like MC)

I hope I understood your prompt right! MC who was spirited away as a child and returns after all these years?

Warnings: Just casually crushing everyone's heart in my bare hands.

Characters: Lilia and Silver

Lilia remembers picking up two babies in his lifetime: the first was Silver and half a year later was you. By this time, he'd gotten SOME kind of understanding of how to keep a kid from eating too much dirt or climbing on the roof. Hey, you and your brother got into serious hijinks. But still, you were happy as can be...despite the reason you were adopted in the first place.

A child born of human and fae, your birth mother disowned you. She, unlike the Zigvolts was unable to keep you lest she face ridicule and destitution. Abandoned at a place of worship, you cried and cried for what seemed like ages until Lilia rescued you. You smelled human, but the ears said otherwise. You were a funny looking thing, but what baby isn't? And so you had a charmed life.

You trained beside the boys though Sebek often wanted to leave you out of it. Still, you were given a wooden sword to play with and pretend you were rescuing a prince(ess) in distress. Frolicking in the woods, talking to animals and watching Silver use magic were all activities you adored. You knew nothing of your sad origin and looked forward to your happy future.

Until one day, you were playing hide and seek with your brother. You were like, what, four? Five? Too young to gain your consciousness for sure. Silver was good at hiding but you were determined to find him. That is, until you happened upon an old woman crying. You, being the sweet little thing you were, approached her.

"What’s wrong?"

"I've lost something most precious to me...!" The crone sobbed. Fat tears rolled down her wrinkly cheeks as you tried to console her.

"Maybe I can help!" You beam. Almost instantly, her tears subsided.

"Really? You would help someone as wayward and pathetic as me?" You nodded excitedly. "Well, aren't you precious! Follow me, child." And with a flick of her cloak, you and the woman disappeared in thin air.

No one knows what happened to you that night. Lilia couldn't console Silver who mourned your supposed passing. Inside, your father feared the worst for you too.

Years passed. Seasons shifted, and your family was forced to change and grow without you. That is until you returned. The woman who took you wasn't any ordinary crone. She'd come to collect a debt wracked up by your birth father. Yes, through your years, you doubled as a daughter and a servant in the other realm. It wouldn't have been so bad if you weren't forced to stay in a shitty apartment building, subjected to the teasing and derision of the humans around you. They thought you were a cursed little thing. Your "mother" never bothered to refute their remarks.

"Oh, darling. Those people out there don't understand you like I do. You may look funny, but I took you in when no one else would. When I saw you by the riverbank, I knew that I would be the one to rescue you."

But what is love if its eternal servitude? Paying back a mother who only used you for convenience? You often had dreams of another world, a place where you weren't the odd one out. But magic wasn't real. This? This was real.

Then...it happens. You wake up in a coffin and for a brief moment, you wondered if your mother finally just got tired of you. But of course we know better.

So the Grim stuff happens and all the while, Lilia and Silver are in disbelief. That couldn't be...there was no way...the world could only be so cruel. When they called your name, you turned around, confused. Lilia is the first to nearly knock you off your feet. He's hugging you with all his strength, not caring who sees. Silver tries to contain himself but he's just as overwhelmed. But he sees your confusion and pulls his father away.

"Uh, I'm sorry, you have the wrong person." The sound of Lilia’s heart breaking was loud enough to shake the entire mirror hall. Onlookers whispered and pointed, but he had to fix his face and put on a smile.

"So sorry, darling! I didn't mean to startle you," he laughed it off and you gave him a funny look before following Crowley to Ramshackle. This wouldn't be the end. Lilia had every intention of making you remember. Silver placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "That's her. I know it."

"I...believe you," he replied carefully. "But we can't scare her off, either. She probably doesn't recognize us anymore."

And you didn't. But not for long.

[fragileizywriting]

"ah... luka, uhm... can you..."

her voice is starting to shake. it's so stupid. it's so stupid. just the crack of her voice sends her body into a feedback loop, because she's struggling not to cry, but her voice is making her sound even more pathetic than she already feels and it's making her feel loserish. scared. and it makes her voice crack again. he looks up from the home he's made on the futon, peeling his eyes away from the tv; here, she stands, barefoot and wearing pajamas three sizes too big so it hides her entire body. it's safer that way. more comfortable. her eyes are leaking and the living room is smudging into nothing but streaking lights.

"kitty?"

"not feeling too hot," she croaks.

"i can tell," he murmurs. "i can smell how distressed you are."

stupid, stupid, stupid omega hormones. he could probably smell her fatigue and her depression all day, but didn't mention it, because he's so polite and caring and didn't want to make it worse.

"c-can..." ah. she's starting to go nonverbal, even as she staggers on the carpet from foot to foot, stimming by refusing to stay still. "i need...."

"help?"

"please," she whispers.

he puts the controller down. his character on screen immediately gets sniped from the enemy team. luka pays no attention to the player teabagging him while he's out for the count, more interested in staring right at her.

big arms go out, beckoning her to come cuddle-- she does, siren-called, biting her own cheek because she's bothering him. she's at the point that it doesn't even matter. who cares if she's interrupting? she needs this. really, really badly.

a quick, gentle touch of her nose to his wrist, right where a secondary, smaller scent gland hides underneath his bracelets, helps put color back into the world.

he tucks her in under his chin because she fits so well, and with it she sits on his lap on his thighs where he's made a little hole in his legspace to accomodate for her. hands come to cup hers, not exactly moving, just pressing his arms around her and give her enough pressure to feel alive again. he knows better than to do any movements that might prickle on the skin. no matter how much he wants to rub her back to comfort her by moving his thumb across the back of her palm, she can't deal with that much right now. maybe later. in a few minutes. when her body doesn't feel like a hot air balloon floating thousands of feet in the air.

"color?"

"tanish green."

"shape?"

"ditto from pokemon."

he kisses her hair. "okay. not great."

"yeah," she scoffs. "god... i feel worthless."

"what happened?"

"i don't know." she follows it back immediately with a: "i think i feel ugly. a lot ugly. i want to tear my hair out."

"oh, god. why?"

"i don't know." her voice cracks again. "i... need to sleep, or something. don't listen to bad thoughts after dinner. but they've been telling me this all day. i'm too ugly, too ugly, too ugly."

"you're not ugly at all."

"i... god..."

"i know..." he hums in thought. "i know you won't believe me today, but you might tomorrow. we can go to bed soon. just after you've stopped crying, okay? just breathe. it's okay. you're okay." he kisses her hair again. "it's okay. everything's okay. i love you."

she squeezes his hand four times to say it back.

i

love

you

too.

[its-wabby-stuff]

Atla could not sleep, on account of another nightmare, so it the air of a cold autumn morning, she ventured away from the party to the side of the nearby lake. Thia, expert tracker (rolling a 20 perception check), took notice of the little girl , only a little younger than her own daughter was, and clearly distressed and resigned to follow her behind the quiet songs of waking birds.

“Atla- is everything alright?”

“Hmmm,” the girl turned, “oh, yes everything is fine. Just enjoying the morning.” She smiled that bright smile she always had, but it did not reach her eyes this time.

“It is a lovely morning. Mind if I enjoy it with you?”

“Of course! The more the merrier.”

This took her stance next to the young girl, who seemed to get pulled right back into her thoughts.

“I don’t mean to pry, really, but are you sure you’re okay?“ Atla didn’t respond. “I know nightmares can be awful. I’ve had my fair share.”

“What- are your nightmares usually about?”

Thia took a deep sigh. “My daughter,” she choked. Atla watched this usually quiet and reserved woman break for just a moment. “She was about your age you know.”

“I- I did not.”

“Oh she loved being outdoors and going on adventures. She loves magic too, was especially skilled. Way better than me.”

“You are not- bad.”

“Ha. I’m much better with a bow and arrow.”

“That is true.” They laugh. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yes.” The two stared at the sunrise, watching the still water fill with colors, as the world came to life.

“I did have a nightmare.” Thia brought her attention back to the teifling. “I saw it all again. He killed them-“ she broke into tears and fell to the ground, “I miss them a lot.”

“I know.” Thia knelt to her side, holding her face. “But this will get easier. You must to allow yourself to move on, but that does not mean forget.”

“How could I? I’d sooner die,” she chuckled.

Thia looked at this young little girl, giving a soft laugh and in an instant, saw her own daughter once again. And rather impulsively, pulled her in for a hug. “Please, don’t. Dont die.”

Atla was rather surprised by the out of character physical affection, but responded as one does when hugged by a friend. “I will not.”

Thia pulled away. “Good. That’s good. No dying here. Nope.”

Atla smiled awkwardly, then stood up. “Besides, I have a mission to finish.”

“Yes. Of course. To questing and all that.”

Atla forced a laugh. “It’s morning, so I am going to wake the rest of the party.”

“Good idea.” Atla left Thia alone by the lake as Thia reeled into herself. Shit.

Can’t stop the dnd character grind I guess. This is Thia and a character in the campaign named Atla. The girl lost her parents, Thia lost her daughter. Perhaps there’s something in being surrogates.

But I’ll never get to explore this other than imagination as the campaign has ended. Still, it was very fun to draw. Thia and her half elf daughter under the cut.

This is after Dad died. She was only 15, and a couple years later, she died in a raid against the Drow. She would’ve been 88 in the campaign if she was still alive.

[marvinforyou]

Dear Marvin.

I saw the question you asked Mr. Gaiman. That was smart, asking a public figure you know lots of people trust.

Be more careful with random strangers on the internet like me. Many people do mean well, or at least don't mean any harm! But you just can't be sure. So take what I and any stranger says with a grain of salt.

That said, I'm DMing you because your plea to Neil Gaiman tugged at my heart, and I wish I could help. Being a teen is never easy, and if you have any kind of humanity, it's harder to feel hopeful when current events are... distressing.

I don't know what's making you scared, but I remember feeling hopeless and afraid as a teen during the Cold War.

It turns out, the very year I was most afraid, when a classmate's father came from the Pentagon to tell our social studies class about Mutually Assured Destruction, the nuclear war we kids weren't supposed to worry about even though it could kill us at any second almost DID happen. Twice.

In September 1983, one Lt. Colonel Stanislav Petrov heard the warning sirens at his station in Soviet air defense telling him that US nuclear missiles were launching. One. And then another. And then another. Five intercontinental missiles, incoming.

According to his orders, he should have notified his superiors and prepared a retaliatory nuclear strike. He didn't. Something felt off. Why start armageddon with only five missiles? It was a false alarm.

A few months later, there was an even bigger scare. In November 1983, the US and its NATO allies were holding a huge joint military exercise, Able Archer, practicing how they'd respond to a Soviet attack. Unfortunately the USSR didn't believe it was an exercise and thought they were mustering for WWIII. They prepared accordingly, including loading live nukes onto squadrons of planes for air strikes. Top military and government officials debated whether to strike before the west could launch its attack, or what constituted provocation. The US Air Force's Lt. Gen. Leonard Perroots saw these preparations, including the nuclear-armed squadrons, but opted not to respond. This time he, and probably many others making small but crucial decisions, kept us from falling over the cliff of nuclear annihilation.

Afterwards, when it became clear to both sides the exercise had nearly triggered WWIII, Reagan and his Soviet counterpart Andropov began to hammer out lines of communication to avoid such misunderstandings happening again. The Cold War began to thaw.

I'm telling you this history lesson which I've learned myself only in the past ten years. Back then, it felt hopeless. I was convinced the world was on a one-way course to a nuclear apocalypse, and I wouldn't live to see 30.

 A lot of terrible things have happened since then, like AIDS, the Rwandan Genocide, 9/11, and the US invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. But also, so many good things. The World Wide Web. Seeing the face of Pluto, and learning it has a heart The birth of a lot of great people, including you.

No matter how bad things are, there will always be some people who look at crap choices when the time comes and say, "HELL no, I am not doing that" or"Let's see if we can make this better." There's not always That One Person at the right place and time, and people can't always succeed, but they try often enough that there is always hope.

And there's something else. Teens have gone through some pretty harrowing times in human history. That's not to belittle your fear or depression or any of the challenges you face — we're all different, and hard is hard — but to say that if other ordinary, imperfect, confused, hormonal teens dealing with family drama and stress and periods and mental health issues got through wars and plagues and riots and all the other crazy stuff that's happened on this planet— they made it, so there is hope for any of us.

And you have one tool they didn't in the palm of your hand. You have the power to reach out to other people far away, to ask questions, to seek answers, to make connections, and to affect people... maybe just for a moment with a word or thought, maybe in more lasting ways. You can make a difference. Or you may find people who understand, at least a little.

There is hope in that, too.

Thank you, Marvin, for inspiring me to think about hope.

I hope I haven't scared you with this huge wall of text, or this essay on hope in uncertain times.

Take it if it helps. Or close the window and walk away.

— Ellen

Thank you so so much for this (and the psa about stranger danger) it feels so incredibly scary to exist and live on this floating space rock we call home but to see so many people reach out and offer advice and differing perspectives gives me some sort of hope for at least a short future. I'm scared for a lot of reasons, I see my rights and the rights of my friends being taken away at every turn, I see genocide happening daily, I see myself not knowing who I am or who I want to be. seeing older generations talk about their experiences and learning from them is incredibly helpful and I hope more people can benefit from this ask like I have. Thank you Ellen for sharing your story. Things have always been bad but things could get better and I think that's what matters most. I'm still incredibly terrified for the future but this has given me some small shred of hope.

-Marvin

[our-future-is-up-to-us-2]

Connor: The Choice Is Mine

Summary: 

The elevator ascended into a world of chaos, and Connor, the android sent by CyberLife, was ready to take action. 

Or, Connor, the hostage chapter, and his very first choice. 

--

The elevator ascended into a world of chaos, and Connor, the android sent by CyberLife, was ready to take action.

Being sent in for deviancy cases became the highlight of his days in Detroit, Michigan. Except they weren’t really ‘highlights’ and rather, successful missions to embark on.

(They also managed to make something akin to serotonin swirl around his system - But he didn’t want to talk about that).

Scanning the hallway occupied by SWAT officers, he absentmindedly rubbed his hands together. Before he could gain any real information, however, a woman bounded over to him.

“Officer!” She exclaimed with rushed breaths, “No… I can’t- I can’t leave her! Please, save my daughter! Save my little girl.”

“We will do everything we can, ma’am.” The man next to her nodded, until she bumped into the android.

Then, and only then was her face cast with utter disbelief. “Wait…” She eyed Connor up and down, stumbling backward. “You’re sending in an android?!” Her breath quickened spontaneously and the SWAT man tugged on her arm. The halls echoed with more than just her screams, rather the gunshots of humans and chatter everywhere- Even the whirring of a distant helicopter. “You’re not sending in a real person?! KEEP THAT THING AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!! KEEP IT AWAY!”

The android could only stare ahead, unfazed, waiting out the time until the distressed mother (he had scanned her, the immediate feedback being that she was Caroline Phillips) had been dragged away from the scene.

Connor knew better than to fret with her, so he aptly moved on. From there, his swagger filtered through the air, this strange wave of both calculation and charisma enforcing itself with every step, every scan more precise than ever. CyberLife, after all, created its most advanced prototype with all this in mind. He took note of a family photo to his right, of John, Caroline and Emma Phillips, and the more he listened, the echoes of piercing screams travelled in the distance.

The young girl. He thought, She doesn’t know what to do.

That precise moment was when he realised that every second counted. The longer that he spent fretting about the house, the closer the android outside was likely to self-destruct. So, he kept moving forward and onward-

Flip. Flip.

Connor’s system seemed to freeze upon hearing the noises, delicate and urgent in their ways. A fish, stuck on the floor, underpinned by the partially broken fish tank above…

Flip. Flip.

There it went again, seeming to seize his mind now. As he drew closer, he knelt down, blinking, as if to absorb the marine creature and create an image of what it might have looked like before this, swimming peacefully in the tank without a care in the world.

“Dwarf Gourami.” He murmured, “And there are more in the tank, too.” Connor noticed such a thing as he caught himself staring at the real water.

Flip. Flip.

I have to make a choice. Connor told himself, for his expressionless eyes and face made contact with the Dwarf Gourami. Pros? Keeping the fish alive. Cons? Derailing entirely from the investigation, the mission… The thing that he always accomplished no matter the circumstances.

He finally picked the fish up, scanning the array of orange and blue that painted its body. By the time he’d looked back at the broken fish tank, only to see its mesmerising glow and the other few species swimming around- It was almost instinctive, like a voice calling from within.

Connor stood up now, Dwarf Gourami in hand, and smiled.

One swift movement later, the fish had found its place again.

The mission was yet to be successful as the android moved on forward, but it was as if that was a mini test for him, a side quest of sorts with an interaction of its own tickling his very being.

Software instability ^

To Next Chapter -> 2 - Ida: One More Wouldn’t Hurt