#because she's terrified of her own mind and wants the distraction and the reassurance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago

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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt 10, "i scream, for whatever it's worth, 'i love you.' ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

a/n: pls ignore the fact that i’ve been writing miss morel instead of miss blake 😭 also enjoy my sappy writing. thank you all for every ounce of love and support on this series. i’ve had so much fun writing for you and interacting with everyone. i may have smth else in the works, but no promises. for now, enjoy x

tagging: @scarletrosesposts

stiles reluctantly shifted y/n's body into isaac's arms, took the opportunity to swipe the tears out from beneath his eyes. then, he focused back to y/n. he took the sleeve of his sweatshirt, cleaned the blood off of her face, as he came up with a plan, "okay. i-i can get past the cops. i'll distract them down front, while you guys slip out the back. my jeep is parked in the emergency lot. but, i don't know how you'll cross the entire parking lot with them all out there."

danny watched stiles’ gentle hands. he was terrified, but he tried not to show it. he spoke, strong and clear, "i can go out first, bring it around to the ambulance bay. isaac and allison can wait there.”

the aforementioned hunter before adding on her own idea, "that's good. then we can swing around and grab you, stiles."

"okay, okay," stiles ran his hands through his hair, anxiously. a million thoughts raced through his mind, "and what do we do if-if the alpha pack comes for us? they still think we're protecting jennifer. and we-we're useless again-"

"stiles," allison touched his wrist, gently, drawing his eyes back to her own. she’d never admit it, but she was worried, too. without scott, they were not only outnumbered, but weak. like danny, she put forth a strong front, "she's gonna be okay. we're gonna be okay. i doubt they stuck around here, considering the police. i think we’ll make it through.”

"okay," stiles breathed out, "let's go." his arms dropped to his sides. he watched y/n’s head wobble as isaac turned away.

he, allison, and danny were going to take the stairs, stiles the elevator. so, this is where they would split up. though, before isaac could turn all the way, to follow allison and danny towards the doorway, stiles called out, “wait, isaac-!”

he looked back towards stiles, brows raised, "yeah?" he held y/n so carefully, like she was a pillow. stiles felt useless, again. useless because he wasn’t that strong. useless because, without scott, like miss blake had said- he had nothing.

stiles pushed down the feeling and stepped forward, "i just want to say goodbye. to her. i know she can’t hear me, but-“

“it’s okay,” isaac nodded once, reassuring the boy.

stiles slowly drug his eyes down to y/n's sunken face. she was beginning to look more and more sick, more corpse-like, as every moment passed. every so often, since isaac took her from stiles’ arm, y/n’s entire body would wrack from the chills that were causing sweat to sit on her brow. then, she'd cough violently, chest constricting with the effort, and blood would gush out of her lips. each time, isaac would spindle the pain out of her legs, around her back, his own face grimacing in response. he didn’t even hesitate to help her. stiles was grateful for this.

when he drew her pain out from her blood, isaac could feel the life slowly dissipating from her body. he had told stiles, just before he came up with the plan, that she, in fact, dying. but, she had a while to go. it was happening, slowly but surely. inching through her body at a snail’s pace. cruelly.

none of that information reassured stiles. it only made it worse, knowing that she was in so much, drug-out pain.

he lay a shaking hand to her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin. it was moist with that feverish-sweat. her lips were pale white, the color only dulled more by the black line circling the center of them. finally, a redness was visible beneath her eyelids, in her veins. she really was dying. she looked it.

stiles dragged his lips between his teeth, stilling them because they were wobbling. then, his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forth, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “i love you…”

–

“i love you, y/n…”

y/n woke with a jolting start, heart beat thumping in her neck like a choking reminder. her breath came out, raggedly. she managed to grab the fading words that echoed in her ears, whispered down her spine, like someone had just prickled their lips to her lobe, before they could leave her. y/n quickly looked to her left, then the right, before shifting onto her knees to examine the space behind her back.

there was nobody there.

in fact, there was nothing there.

the room- if you could call it a room- was bright white, lit by loud bulbs y/n could not find. the space stretched out before her, never-ending, miles and miles wide and long. she squinted her eyes, searching for its end. she expected the horizon to curve, eventually, for her view to diminish because of the curvature of the earth.

but it didn’t.

no, the room just kept on unfolding. the nothingness expanded.

there was a low buzzing sound, like flies, or florescent lighting, but the source of it was nowhere to be seen. she figured it must be from the bulbs, but the more she looked above her to try to find them, the more her head hurt. it was a blinding view.

she took a shuddering breath, head lolling forward. she was terrified of this subliminal space. terrified of what could be waiting on either end, what would find her. what she would find.

terrified of the fact that, as far as she knew, right now, she was utterly alone.

y/n went to stand, carefully bracing her shaking palms onto the matte white floor. she expected to groan in pain as she stood, but her legs lifted with ease. y/n ran her eyes over her body as she was shocked by the strengthened version of herself that she had recovered to. it was almost like she wasn’t really herself- like she was a dream-like avatar of her real self. maybe she’d blacked out so hard that, now, she was dreaming.

though, it did not feel like a dream.

she was in the same clothing as her real self- hospital gown, jeans, grippy socks, and stiles’ hoodie. though, her clothes were soaking wet, like she had dipped in the pool, again. there was no water on the floor, nor any source of it as far as she could see. then, y/n’s eyes reached her hands, and she noticed the black liquid coating her skin. it looked like she had been coughing into her hand. she gasped at the sight.

y/n brought a wobbling hand to her lips, feeling fresh blood evident in her mouth. she began coughing, erratically. she crouched over, hand braced on her knees, as the coughs wracked her chest. her hands became wet with the black blood, and some of it splattered across the white floor.

“wha-“ her coughing ceased, and a shocked look dilated y/n’s pupils. “what’s happening? what-“

she turned every which way, searching for an exit sign, searching for a doorway, a window, another person. she was becoming panicked. the pain was starting to soak back into her body.

“hello?” she called out, voice echoing off of walls that didn’t even exist. she spun in circles, calling out to the void, “hello? is anybody there? please-“ she coughed up more blood, “i need help! help me, please!”

she shuddered as a wind flew past her body. “hello?! please, help me! stiles! stiles?! please!”

just then, as she spoke his name, that voice came again, whipping as the wind carried it down her spine. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you soon, okay? i love you.”

y/n continued spinning in circles as she tried to find that voice. it went away, again, and the low buzzing of the back room was all she had left. it was worse, the loneliness, because she was able to recognize that voice now- it was him. she was sure of it. y/n cried out, “stiles!”

he was gone. there, at her fingertips, at the precipice of her consciousness, but gone, again. taken. swept away with the ever-fading wind.

“stiles, where are you?” she sobbed, “please!”

the energy was sinking from her body, and she struggled to keep herself on her feet. y/n slowly crumpled to her knees, more blood continuing to spew from her lips, and tears spilling from her eyes.

everything was fading.

“please, stiles!”

–

“what’s wrong with her?” stiles demanded, cracking his knuckles against either palm as he paced the floor of the animal clinic.

his eyes shot back and forth from y/n to deaton. his chest felt so tight, and he thought, at any moment, he might start having a panic attack. things were seemingly becoming worse, by the minute. deaton had been examining the girl for nearly half an hour. he kept pulling herbs out of cabinets, shutting them away, listening to her heartbeat.

like he was now- deaton pulled his stethoscope from his ears and hung it around his neck. he glanced to isaac, allison, danny, warily, before looking to stiles. he let out a hopeless, so stiles snapped his head in deaton’s direction.

“what? what’s wrong wi-with her? is- is she gonna be okay?” stiles voice cracked. deaton’s frown seemed to deepen. stiles shook his head, quickly, “no, cmon- no. please- wha…please tell me what’s wrong with her. please tell me you can fix it. please.”

stiles was barely able to speak through that pleading word, his chin falling to his chest as a sob wracked his body. allison clenched her jaw and had to look away. she took a shuddering breath, pressed a hand to her cheek. it was so hard to watch.

deaton braced his palms on the steel table, hands on either side of y/n’s head as he looked down at her. “she’s…jennifer placed some sort of poisonous spell on her. that’s the best way i can understand it. it’s like her body is rejecting itself. and, so, she’s…she’s dying, stiles-“

“i know that!” stiles yelled, “we all fucking know that! so, just do something to save her!”

he swept a hand across the counter adjacent to his left hip, knocking all of the tools to the ground. a yell, deep and vicious, erupted from stiles’ throat, as the supplies clattered to the floor. the scream resounded throughout the room. allison and danny flinched. she kept her gaze pointed from the boy, too pained to look his way. danny shut his eyes, pressed his lips together. he was still trying to be strong, though hearing this news was starting to affect his demeanor. he wanted to scream, just like stiles. but, he held it all in.

meanwhile, isaac was watching stiles carefully in case he needed to step in. he crossed his arms over his chest. he, too, felt terrible for the boy, but he wore his heart in his ribcage, tucked away, private.

stiles put his back to them, head in his hands, shoulders heaving up and down while he sobbed. allison wanted to step forward, to comfort the boy. but, then, deaton was speaking again.

deaton, also a stoic mourner, cleared his throat, then said, “stiles.”

“what?” he whispered, tone laced with venom. he slowly turned around to face the vet. his eyes were now rimmed with a red, bloodshot look. stiles no longer tried to hide the tears racing down his face. it only made danny feel worse.

deaton spoke slowly, gently, a hand set out towards stiles as a treaty-like offer, “i-i don’t want to give you any false hope. but, i think there may be something we can try to do.”

“what is it?” stiles stepped forward, hands falling onto the table. he kept in mind deaton’s words and tried not to let the faith bubble in his chest. but he couldn’t really control his emotions right now. he was all over the place. one of his fists lifted, moving through the air as if he were rushing deaton’s idea. “what is it? what can we do?”

deaton tilted his head in slight disappointment because he knew stiles was clinging onto an idea that could end in flames, “you must understand, stiles…i don’t have the anecdote for this poison. everything i have will only hasten her death, which is why jennifer did this. she knew we wouldn’t be able to stop it. she knew y/n’s state would only slow us down, weaken our numbers.”

“i know,” stiles’ shoulders barely lifted in acknowledgement. this is exactly what he wanted to avoid, exactly why he had never told her about all of this. “i…figured. y/n was clear bait. an easy target. it’s- what can we do?”

“scott can give her the bite,” deaton hurried the words out within a breath. he was scared of their impact. “i’m not sure if she’s strong enough to turn, but…but it might just counteract her death. the bite and the poison could cancel each other out. but…there are chances it won’t work, stiles. if i’m wrong, she may still die. or…she may actually turn.”

“or she could turn into something worse,” allison whispered. stiles found her eyes, much to allison’s dismay, and she nearly shuddered from the look in his. his pupils were dark, threatening. allison looked away quickly.

danny had been caught up on everything by allison and isaac on their way down to the ambulance bay. he was able to finish a lot of their sentences because he had been suspecting something like what they were telling him. after all, jackson was his best friend. he knew something was off. and he’d done his own research.

the validation that he had been right about monsters hiding in the dark didn’t feel good, though.

danny wondered what she could turn in to. contrary to jackson, she was a good person. were there any monsters that were good in their disposition? any without claws and fangs and a deadly bite? he didn’t really want to find out.

stiles punched the table, ever so lightly, drawing danny from his own thoughts. “i want it done,” stiles demanded.

deaton braced a hand between them again, “stiles-“

“why is this even a question? i mean- we always go out of our way to save people we don’t even know!” he shouted as he took a step towards deaton. “and, now, suddenly it’s an issue. please, just…we have to save her!” his voice cracked again.

the doctor, though threatened by stiles angry demeanor, still didn’t falter. he simply lifted his chin in response, “okay. then, it’s really just up to scott, now. if he is willing to do it, then it can be done. i must ask, though, would she be okay with this?” he gestured to y/n.

danny took the moment to interject, for the first time in a long time, “sorry to interrupt, but, i-uh, she’d probably say yes. if the chances are she could die either way, she’d want us to at least try.”

stiles nodded to danny, gratefully. the latter boy pushed himself back into the wall, sinking into himself.

“okay. then, we must wait for scott.”

everyone tucked in, preparing to wait as deaton said. isaac slid up onto the counter, legs dangling over the side. allison sat criss-cross on the floor as she worked on ensuring her bow was in one piece. stiles was stoic at y/n’s side, head tilted down to gaze at her. danny watched him for a moment, watched how he entwined his fingers with hers, pushed the hair back from her forehead, and cleaned some of the blood off of her chin.

danny pushed off of the wall and came to stand across from stiles. he followed the boy’s eyes down at y/n, a deep frown creasing his cheeks. he set a hand on her wrist and put the other against her palm. danny took a shuddering breath, pushing aside the anxiety and mourning crawling up his chest. he wanted to comfort stiles. so he tried to.

“i don’t know how she manages to look so pretty, even when dying,” danny shortly chuckled, hoping the joke wouldn’t be too harsh for stiles.

stiles jumped, just slightly, at the sound of danny’s voice. it took a second, but the joke finally clicked in his head. stiles appreciated the humor. “hm? oh, yeah…i- she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t get it. and then she’ll say that she’s not, and i’m just, like…i wanna hit her, ya know?”

stiles looked up to danny. the older boy searched stiles’ eyes for a moment, and he didn’t have to force the smile that came onto his face.

“you love her so much,” danny simply said, a breathy laugh shortly off his tongue.

stiles didn’t know what to say. his head nodded in a hesitated manner, and he peeled his eyes off of danny.

y/n let out a heavy breath, her chest deflating from the effort. stiles brushed more hair behind her ear.

“i do…i…” his tongue darted out as he licked his lips, “i love her.”

danny reached out and wrapped a hand around stiles’ shoulder. he squeezed. stiles shot him a half-hearted smile.

they didn’t need to say anything else. after all, that was everything.

twenty more minutes passed. stiles tried not to stare at the clock, but he found his eyes flirting towards the teasing hands, moving ever so slowly.

isaac talked quietly to allison, who cleaned her bow about three times. her hands were shaking. danny stepped out, at one point, to call y/n’s parents, who were still struggling to find a flight home to see her.

he lied and told them she would be just fine.

finally, scott arrived, relieving some of the tension in the room. he came rushing in, breathless, rambling on about what he had learned. there was drying blood on his hands, on his shirt, but no one even questioned it. at this point, it was normal.

everyone listened intently,silently hoping that whatever information he had received would help them save y/n.

but, instead, it was about the other issue stiles was trying not to remember, “we have to find the nemeton! if we find that, we’ll find out parents! she has them trapped in the cellar beneath it. here-“

scott didn’t notice y/n, still sprawled out, lifeless, on the table in the center of the room. he smelled something weird, but his mind was racing with the excitement that they’d be able to save their guardians.

stiles glanced back down at y/n, hoping scott would cut himself off. he couldn’t find the strength to do so. allison and isaac even exchanged a wary glance as scott produced a map out of his jacket pocket. from what everyone else could see, it pictured highlighted telluric currents. as it flattened between his hands, scott stepped forward in orderto set it on the table. that’s when he noticed y/n.

scott slowly lowered the map and flicked his eyes to stiles. “wha- what’s happening?” scott asked. he glanced around to everyone else, “what’s wrong with her?”

“she’s dying,” stiles murmured.

“i know, but, i thou-“ scott hurriedly shifted his words to deaton, who shook his head, sadly. “i thought you’d bring her here, and she’d be okay. deaton- i thought you would be able to save her.”

“scott,” deaton gently interrupted, “there’s nothing i can do. whatever jennifer did to her, it’s unbreakable. none of my herbs would work. they’d just- speed it up. the only thing we can try is-“

“i’ll give her the bite,” scott glanced between stiles and deaton, a determined look in his eye.

stiles blinked rapidly as relief flooded him, “scott, you don’t have to do-“

“i have to,” scott raised a hand, “i want to. besides, this isn’t about me. it’s never been about me. it’s always been about protecting and saving innocent people, like y/n. if the bite would save her, then i have to do it. i can’t let her die.”

deaton leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. he was proud of scott for adopting such a morally right approach to the thing that could have changed him for the worse. but, deaton still had worries, concerns, “you know what this will entail, don’t you? you know the consequences of giving the bite?”

scott didn’t hesitate to nod, “i’ll do it.”

stiles’ spine straightened with an eager energy that pulsed through his blood. he nervously watched as scott turned his gaze down to y/n. scott’s brows furrowed slightly as he took in her deadly appearance. he set his hands, gently, on her arm. immediately, her pain shot up and through his veins. scott winced, and flinched his hands away. stiles squeezed her hand in response. that was never a good sign.

“she’s in a lot of pain,” scott breathed out.

stiles really wanted to say something rude, something sarcastic, something to press scott to go a little faster. but, he bit his tongue. it wasn’t the time, even if the humor would lighten his anxiety.

but, scott’s movements were painstakingly slow. he set his hands back on her wrist, paused as he took some more of her pain. it didn’t seem to want to let up. then, he lifted her arm in the air, inner wrist tilted towards his mouth. scott dipped his head back, a small groan coming from the back of his throat as his fangs protruded from his mouth. his eyes flashed yellow.

just as scott leveled his chin, opened his mouth to sink his fangs into y/n’s arm, lydia burst into the room. she always had impeccable timing with these things. “stop! wait, stop!”

everyone flinched, heads twisting around to look at the girl. she was breathing heavily, hair and dress soaked from the rain. she looked like she had been crying, voice hoarse from a scream that had been out of earshot. she’d had a premonition. lydia walked further into the light, “i know how to get her back.”

–

y/n lay there for what felt like forever. she stared up at the sky, the ceiling, whatever it was. it loomed overtop of her, a menacingly blank space. it seemed brighter up there, like there were lights somewhere above. if there were lights, that meant that had to be some sort of something in there with her. she wanted to get up and start running, try to find that something in this vast, dismal space, but she didn’t have the energy. she was dying- she knew it.

so she just lay there.

she could feel the life being drug out of her as each and every moment passed. yet, the only thing she could think of was him- stiles.

as her mind wandered, bringing comfort through the daydreams that played in her head, she thought about only him. she missed stiles so much. she knew it couldn’t have been that long, but she still missed him. she missed him before all of this- before she knew about the supernatural.

besides, no dying person wanted to go out alone. he was the one she’d pick to be next to as her final breaths were drawn out of her chest.

she wanted to go back to a week ago, in his bed. before she looked at his phone and everything was ruined. she yearned to feel his fingers ghosting her forearm, tracing the veins there like a pattern, slow and loving. the more she thought about his touch, about his chest beneath her cheek, his arms around her shoulders, she almost swore she could feel his calloused palm wrap around her wrist. it tickled, almost.

y/n shot open her eyes, brought her hand to her eyes, but realized there was no one there. she dropped her hand back down to her stomach. she tilted her chin to take a deep breath of his hoodie, which was acting as a makeshift pillow beneath her head. it didn’t help much. her neck ached slightly. but the smell- the smell of his room, his hair, his deodorant. it helped just a bit.

it brought out more vivid memories behind her eyelids. laying in his jeep, her music low on the radio, fog on the windows, rain beating down like a protective coating around the vehicle. just the two of them, always just the two of them, and an undeniable, desirable secret dangling between their chests.

y/n turned onto her side, curled her legs up to her stomach. she wanted to go back to sleep, so that time would maybe pass- if there even was time in this place. she noticed that she hadn’t coughed in a while. but whenever it would happen, the fit was disastrous. the perfectly white floor surrounding her was stained with clumpy, black splatters. her entire neck was coated in the liquid. and the skin of her fingers was unrecognizable. she squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that she could go to sleep, avoid another coughing fit, dream about him…

dream about his lips pressed against her forehead. she would pretend like it hadn’t happened, again, if that was the cost. she would take that over this- yearning for him quietly, secretly. the feeling that she would die if he never looked at her, the feeling that she would die because she couldn’t have him the way she wanted. she would take unrequited nothingness of the reality of actual death.

y/n felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. she tilted her chin towards her chest, withering in on her curled up self. whatever this place was- the after life, a punishment, limbo- she just wanted it to end already. at this point, if she was dying, then she wanted to just die already!

y/n’s shoulder wracked with another sob. the wind whipped past her curled body, carrying on it a voice. she ignored it, knowing it wasn’t really there.

but, then, it rang out, again, this time, independent of the wind.

and, this time, it wasn’t so distance.

“y/n?!”

she slowly lifted her head, eyes scarcely searching the white space for where the voice might be coming from. then, as it continued yelling for her, she lifted her upper body from the ground, and twisted her spine to look behind her.

yet, there was no one there.

a moment passed and the yelling stopped. because of that seconds pause, y/n went to lay back down.

but, then, she heard her name again. this time, it was just an inch closer. this time, it sounded clearer, like somebody she knew, “y/n, y/n!”

she listened for a moment, and heard footsteps echoing off the ground, padding quickly across the space.

then, two other sets of footsteps, two other voices. calling her name. they weren’t just voices in her head, distant memories in her mind- they were here. in this place. with her. at her fingertips.

y/n stood, carefully, body aching and yelling at her to stay down. gravity pushed against her. but, she got up. she turned in a short circle, searching for those voices.

and, finally, she found them. she found him.

hundreds of feet away from her, seemingly stuck behind some invisible wall separating the space, they stood, calling out her name. he pounded a fist against the invisible barrier, veins in his neck protruding as he screamed her name again. scott and allison were at his shoulders, her name falling from their lips, too.

“stiles?” y/n cried out, voice cracking, weak, quiet. she took a deep breath, willed herself not to cough, “stiles!”

he finally could tell that she had seen them, and he started yelling louder. somehow, someway, he took a step forward, the wall no longer there. stiles seemed to lose his footing as it glitched in and out of existence, and he looked to his feet in confusion. then, when he realized she was just an inch closer, he took another step, then another, and, then, he was running.

y/n realized that she had to run, too. because, even though he was running as fast as possible, he still seemed worlds away. she had to get to them. she had to close the distance. she had to go. she grabbed stiles’ hoodie, braced her lungs with a deep breath, and took off. he was moving closer, inch by painful inch, until-

y/n ran into his chest, ricocheting off and nearly falling back onto her ass. stiles quickly reacted and grabbed his shoulders, steadying her. he crouched to meet her eye, searching her face as if he couldn’t believe it really was her.

as their eyes met, the world shifted, just one last time, finally clicking back onto it’s axis.

y/n’s shaking hands came slowly up to his cheeks as a sob escaped her. “stiles?” she whispered.

he nodded, just once, before squeezing her into his chest. “it’s me- i’m here. i’m here, baby.”

she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tightly, so he could never leave her again.

he would never leave her again.

–

like a line of dominos, everything began falling into place, quickly, righteously.

y/n clung to stiles’ side as they found the nemeton, tucked away in some corner of the woods, which appeared out of nowhere. it took them through his memory, but part of her own recollections, too. some distant evocation of a day spent with danny, practicing his time for cross country. she could hear his voice, but she couldn’t see him. eventually, she and stiles stumbled onto the large tree root, evident as the fall air whipping past them.

everything felt distant, still, unreal. though she could feel stiles there, beside her, she knew that this wasn’t reality. she couldn’t wait until this was all over, when they’d wake up in the animal clinic. when she could really touch him, his actual skin, there, right there for her to take and never let go.

after they found the nemeton, everything surrounding them glitched out to a pitch black dream. they fell into something similar to sleeping. y/n heard her name, whispered through the dark, like a question. she slowly came to, fingers twitching upon her stomach, eyelids fluttering open. the bright lights of the animal clinic shone down on her, and it took more than a moment for her eyes to adjust.

when they did, she saw dr. deaton, standing over her, holding a gentle hand to her cheek. he helped her sit up, slowly but surely, with his touch on her upper back. she swung her legs over the side of the table, groaning at the residing pain still lingering. it was fading, fast, but it still clung to her. as the feeling was coming back into her body, so was her memory, her awareness. she darted her eyes around the animal clinic, searching for stiles, when deaton said:

“here,” the vet held out a purple-ish liquid, contained in a shot glass. “drink this.”

y/n took it, hesitantly, from him, and drank it in small, awful sips. “what was that?” she made a crude face at the foul taste.

“herbs. to help you regain your remaining strength back,” he encouraged the idea with a small nod.

y/n thanked him, before accepting another glass. this time, luckily, it was just water. she glanced around the empty room, again, “where is everyone? where- where’s stiles?” she yearned for him.

“stopping jennifer. stiles and lydia went out to find the nemeton. to find his dad. everything will be over shortly,” deaton patted her shoulder.

“what am i supposed to do, in the meantime? i mean…i don’t know where i fit?” she was new to this dynamic. she felt she should be out there helping. she was, after all, considered a part of the pack now. didn’t that come with responsibilities? though, she had just almost died. surely there was time allocated to humans for rest and relaxation in this type of world?

“well,” deaton he crossed his arms over his chest, “what do you want to do?”

“go home,” y/n admitted with a short laugh.

“i’ll drive you.”

y/n twisted around at the sound of that familiar voice. danny stepped out of the shadowed corner of the room. he had been giving her and deaton space as she was brought back to life. but, he couldn’t wait any longer. his best friend almost died. and now, he could finally take her home, to safety, to quiet, to peace.

deaton nodded, once, before stepping out of the room. his role in this chapter was completed.

meanwhile, y/n jumped off of the table, hurriedly tossing her arms around danny. he squeezed her in the tightest hug they had ever exchanged. their reunion was sweet, sentimental, full of tears from either friend.

and, then, danny drove her home, as promised.

he helped her out of her blood-stained clothing, and into the hot shower. he waited, less than patiently, on her bed while she washed away all of the black staining her skin. when she was finally changed into pajamas, tucked up underneath her bed covers, her eyes were heavy again.

she was exhausted.

danny was going to stay the night, until her parents got home, the next day. so, he hugged her one last, lingering time before retreating to the guest room, hesitantly.

y/n wanted to fall asleep, and wake up in tomorrow, when, hopefully, things will have washed away, sorted themselves out. but, she also knew that, eventually, this would happen again. based on the stories she’d heard, they always did. so, as her mind raced with the worries of that version of tomorrow, she felt her body wake up a bit more.

she just wanted stiles.

this day could not end any better than if stiles would just come back to her.

she climbed out of bed, paced down to the kitchen, and nursed a glass of water as her phone rang. y/n waited, impatiently, as the line beeped.

“hey,” stiles’ voice finally shone through.

y/n wanted to scream with joy, but she simply said, “hi.”

stiles breathed out a heavy sigh, “are you okay?”

“in one piece, somehow,” she managed a small chuckle. “what about you? is your dad alright?”

“he’s sleeping now.”

she was grateful to hear that. “and you, stiles?” he had just been through the hardest few days of his life.

stiles, elbow against the windowsill of his jeep, hand lazily rested on the steering wheel, blinked away exhausted tears. “fine…i guess. as fine as i can be.”

“stiles,” y/n nearly interrupted with a grin on her lips, “please, come over.”

he peered out his window, where her house sat, peacefully, on it’s precipice. the moon hung low behind it, enticing him to step inside. but, after all this, he knew what he must do. for her, her safety, her livelihood.

“i can’t,” his voice almost cracked.

y/n’s face fell, heart sinking into her stomach, “what? why? why not? is there- i thought everything was worked out. i thought that you guys solved everything?”

“we did,” he tapped his fingers against the wheel anxiously, “we did…this time. but- there’ll be other problems. there’ll be other druids trying to take your head off and alpha packs trying to kill all of us. it’ll never stop, y/n. i can’t, with sound mind and heart, drag you into this, knowing what i know. seeing what i’ve seen. i can’t- i have to just…end this.”

in the silence that followed stiles’ confession, y/n picked at the kitchen countertop. she didn’t cry- she didn’t even feel the need to. because she knew this wasn’t the end. she knew it would never end. it was- whatever they had- unbreakable. it was heaven. it was everything.

and she loved him. she’d never stop loving him.

“are you here?” she finally spoke.

the painful silence had only spurred more tears on stiles’. he pressed a hand to his lips, as if rubbing them would force the cries away. but, when she asked him that, his body took a pause. “wh-what?”

“you’re outside, aren’t you?” y/n pushed up off of her seat. she began marching to the front door, stopping only to put on shoes, unwilling to hear his answer. she knew he was.

sure enough, his jeep sat on her road, idling. she shook her head, that grin still sat upon her face. as she began the long walk down her driveway, she spoke, “i realize now how often you’d sit out here, watching my house, making sure i was safe. my brain always said it wasn’t you, but that freshman down the street, who drives that black jeep. it’s too dark out to see that robin egg blue on roscoe. but, no, it’s been you along. you’ve always been here, protecting me.”

“y/n, please, i-“

she hung on him. she was at the jeep door, now. stiles met her eyes, glanced away as he tried to stay strong. he was ending this. he had to. he didn’t want her pretty eyes and soft face to break him down and give in.

but, she knocked on his window.

stiles huffed, turning off the jeep, and stepping out. “y/n, please, you need to-“

“i have spent the last three months pushing you away. i have spent three months convincing myself that you weren’t everything to me. convincing myself that we were only friends, that even though you make me laugh like nobody has ever made me laugh, you didn’t mean the world to me. i have spent so, so long ignoring all the signs, ignoring all of these feelings that i have for you- and yesterday? i almost died. i realized just how precious what we have is. and, if there’s going to be other alpha packs, other crazy english teachers with some weird grudge against all my creative writing assignments, then i’m not going to waste the time that we have letting you go, again. not again, stiles. i have you- i’ve had you, i’ve had you right between my fingers this entire time. and i’ve just been letting you run like water. but, i’m not doing that again. i’m not letting that happen.”

stiles shook his head, removed her gaze from his. he couldn’t bear it. he couldn’t bear this. he just wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t. get back in your jeep and drive away, stiles.

“okay- i just-you know that being with me means having a target on your back. and, you may be okay with that, but i am not. y/n, we can move on from this, okay? i can- i can let you go if it means you will be safe. and you’ll easily get over me. i know you think- i know you have these feelings, but, i also know you never wanted to get attached in the first place. i know you probably really even aren’t. i promise-“ he bullshitted himself.

“i love you, stiles. and i know that’s the worst thing you wanted to hear right now because it changes everything,” she stepped closer, demanding his eye contact. stiles pressed his back into the jeep, trying to shrink away. “and, i know that you love me. you didn’t have to tell me. i’ve felt it- i’ve felt it from you on more than one occasion. and it’s, it’s not the kind of love that you just let go, or get over. it’s- yeah, it’s dangerous and it’s terrifying to hear and it has the worst timing and it changes everything in the world. but, i love you, stiles.”

he lifted his chin, slammed his fist into his palm, weighing over everything in his mind. he didn’t need to- he knew what he felt, but then he knew what was right. and, not even deep down, he knew what to do. what he wanted to do. but, it was the choosing to do so that terrified him. that made him anxious, that made him feel like that pathetic, weak human everyone thought he was. he wouldn’t be able to protect her like he wanted. he wouldn’t be able to stop an attack on her, like yesterday had proven. he wouldn’t be able to ensure she’d get to go to college, that she’d even make it to graduation. if they did this, if he let her do this with him, she’d be in immense danger every second of the day.

but, he knew if he didn’t do this- he wouldn’t be able to breathe. he’d suffocate without her. she made him feel stronger, she made him feel better. she made him feel human in the best way, in the way that was never weak, nor pathetic- in the way that only humans can feel and love.

so, he made that hard choice, and he chose that hard thing.

and he kissed her.

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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nexility-sims · 10 months ago

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟗 ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜ | THE DEN & LEONOR'S APARTMENT, MID MARCH 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Outside the bar, a handful of photographers had greeted them upon their departure; stragglers who followed Leonor’s car across the city turned away only when they reached the private garage at Kore’s condominium. The car idled inside while Leonor implored her to have a sleepover. This idea struck her no sooner than as the driver shifted into park but, once it had, she was insistent. Tomorrow wasn’t a workday for Kore. Although a dedicated partier, she was responsible enough to build in a buffer of sorts. Leonor, meanwhile, couldn’t bear the possibility of the night ending. Riding home in an empty backseat, shuffling into a dark apartment, falling unceremoniously into bed … If Kore spent the night, the fun lived on. Even when they promptly crashed, it would be together. It would be only after at least an additional hour or two of aimless chatter and laughter—perhaps with vomiting or hair-braiding in between. Kore relented, and the car soon sped out of the garage and past the sole lingering observer.

❧ moving on, moving forward ! curious as to what y'all're noticing and thinking as we wrap things up ... additionally, family time soon :^) did anyone else forget leonor isn't an only child or just me—

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

They fell asleep as the sun rose, and Leonor awoke well into late morning with the slow, foggy realization that she was missing something. She stumbled out out of the bedroom and directly into Vita, who had been stationed nearby awaiting this very moment. Vita met Leonor’s alarm with reassurance. Having preternatural foresight, or likely just common sense, she anticipated the princess may have difficulties arriving on time for the day’s big obligation. So, she had made the necessary calls. Leonor nodded as if in a trance, attempting to wrap her mind around, not that it was handled, but that something immense loomed over her. The impossibility of it was splashed across her face as she returned to the bedroom—enough for Kore to notice and make an inquisitive expression in response. Leonor, slumping to the bathroom, waved it off as she passed her.

By the time they sat down for breakfast, rehashing the night’s escapades presented a welcome distraction. The sun was too bright on the balcony, but Leonor saw only the inescapable image of Mateo’s disappointed scowl when she closed her eyes. If she could laugh a little more with Kore before she departed—before she left the safety of her apartment to reenter her mother’s house, her own childhood home, where her brothers would be waiting—then she would put all of her focus on doing so.

Kore wanted to be serious, initially, however. It was understandable. Leonor nonetheless resisted the idea of analyzing her behavior and putting it some, any, kind of context. Her intention had been to shake off the oppressive languor, and she had succeeded. She said yes to Kore's invite and everything thereafter. If she had also wanted to be serious, she would have admitted what she told Renzo and acknowledged its explanatory power: nothing mattered anymore. It was easy to agree to every proposition if the consequences were immaterial. It wasn't a conscious declaration, but it was a visceral feeling blooming inside of her. Leonor had stepped out of the mourning period and into free-fall. If there was ground to hit, she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t feel it. It wasn’t that it didn’t exist; it did, but the threat of impact didn’t inspire anything in her. Once, it would have terrified.

In this new reality, whether permanent or transitory, indifference was the baseline to which she returned. She dreaded facing her brothers amid their mother’s belongings because it would replace the emptiness with something more durable than last night’s euphoria had been. She grinned and chuckled with Kore now, remembering the night with fondness, but those feelings were fading already. Her apathy receded only to flood in anew. Later, in the aftermath, the grief would sneak up on her. It would cast a shadow as she held items imbued with memories in her hands, promising to curl and crest and crash. When it did crash over her, it would be, not while she was in the house alongside Mateo and Gil, but when she was alone again. It would be expected but unpredictable. It would be familiar yet somehow, as had been the case for weeks, feel so raw as to be entirely new. Then, it would be over, and she would be left beached and inert while life carried on around her.

Leonor comforted herself as she dressed for the day with a rosier pronouncement of the future: Renzo’s hideaway wasn’t a dream, and she could retreat there in search of a jolt of excitement anytime she liked.

TRANSCRIPT:

LEONOR | It’s not like that, Kore. KORE | Lying through your teeth! Maybe for someone else— LEONOR | That’s so unfair.

KORE | [Laughs] Don’t even dispute it. Whoever that was last night, I’ve never met her before. Doesn’t mean I didn’t like her! I did. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. However—

LEONOR | I can’t explain it. It’s cliche. I just—possibly for the first time ever—didn’t think too much about what I was doing and had fun.

KORE | Good euphemism for fucking a stranger in a public bathroom— LEONOR | I wasn’t talking about just that, but— [Both laugh]

KORE | Seriously, though. I mean it. I wasn’t trying to play matchmaker. That wouldn’t be good for you right now, especially so soon after how things ended with—

LEONOR | [Groans] Will you listen to me? That wasn’t even the highlight of the night. I thought you’d be proud.

KORE | [Chuckles] It’s just hard to believe, that’s all. You’re not unfun, but you definitely aren’t, you know, easygoing. LEONOR | I know. It was like a dream. But you know what? KORE | Hm?

LEONOR | You better get used to it. I’m changed. Different now.

KORE | [Laughs] Oh, someone had too much fun! Whoever dragged you out of your depression den deserves something nice for her efforts—maybe a roomful of roses or a new watch!

LEONOR | Not a matchmaker, she says, and yet …

KORE | I now pronounce you Princess Nora and Princess Nora’s New Favorite Hangout Spot. LEONOR | Ripped from tomorrow’s headlines, I’m sure. KORE | The nice ones. [Leonor scoffs]

LEONOR | [Sighs] … I should leave. KORE | You’re already late—at least eat your breakfast.

LEONOR | I did. KORE | You pushed it around the plate. Take some fruit to go? LEONOR | I’ll see you later this week. Thanks for staying with me last night. Hang out as long as you like, okay?

KORE | I hope it goes well. Give the boys my best wishes.

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e03

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readbyred · 2 years ago

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TV confessions

you catch their eye and they mention you during one of their confessions;; inspired by @/td-scenarios

Characters: Bowie, Priya, Millie, Emma, Ripper, Damien

Warnings: fresh characters so I’m learning to write them; a tiny spoiler for e02 in Damien’s part; Ripper; not proofread; the reader in Ripper’s part seems to be written as fem but I honestly think it’s 10x better if you read it as anything but lol

-> Bowie

He runs his hand through his face.

“I’m just here to say that owls are definitely not mammals” he looked as if he could hardly believe he had to say the sentence out loud. His teammates never failed to disappoint, apparently.

Though he was about to leave, he sat back down. Only a second of static in between, as the camera was ready to shut off after the initial statement.

“Ou, and have you seen what me and y/n had going on?” He pointed towards the door outside “I mean, they are fine! I’m definitely not making the same mistake as with Caleb, for sure”

He seemed to have remembered something.

“Of course that doesn’t change anything. I’m totally chill about them. A game is a game and I won’t let somebody like y/n distract me, that can get messy real quick. I’ll be unmoved by them. Or their beautiful face or perfect hair or those eyes… ugh, I need to get it together”

As he slumps in his ‘seat’ and lets out a sigh, the camera finally cuts.

-> Priya

She sat down comfortably, as if it was her own place. In a sense, she was pretty familiar with it. In contrast to her body, her face had a stressed, uncertain expression on it.

“I can’t focus because of y/n… As a contestant of course. Mom, dad - I remember the training, I won’t let them distract me. They worry me as a contestant. I don’t want to get them voted off. But if they did end up eliminated I would enjoy it… not”

She adds the last part quietly. As she rubs her forearm, her expression remains bothered.

“I mean, it makes sense I’m on high alert, right?” Her attempt at reassuring her parents didn’t seem too convincing “they are smart, a quick thinker, effective, pretty, motivated, strong, pretty..”

Her voice trailed off. With an equally terrified and embarrassed expression she snapped out of her daze.

“They need to leave the game quick!”

The footage cut to static.

-> Millie

Still scribbling, she didn’t even address the camera as it switched on.

“I wouldn’t have pegged y/n to be the type” she began still looking at her notes “but they really seem not like the other girls/guys/teens”

Finally, she faced the camera fully, talking in her optimistic, confident manner.

“I could hardly take any notes about them” she proudly proclaimed. To be fair, that did set y/n apart from other contestants in Millie’s eyes. Pointing down at her notes she added “ I have some other information - basic things like their favourite colour and music genre. For research”

As guilty as she looked, she still spoke woth her calm demeanour. Perhaps she felt the need to explain her highly-non-scientific demeanour, because she kept talking.

“Besides, you have to admit they are… quite good looking” she looked away from the camera for only a second. Then, matter-of-factly added “On top of being the most sane. Who knows, if they feel the same, we could get to know each other. As soon as this madness is over”

This was the end of the confession and as soon as she spoke the last words, the screen switched to showing the next scene.

->Emma

Sitting down in front of the camera she had an excited grin on her face, as if she couldn’t wait to tell the audience what was on her mind this time.

“You have to admit - y/n is hot. I mean, I thought Caleb was fine, but then I saw them! They are literally so perfect” she blushed, still looking into the camera with the same smile.

“I’m here to win, not to get with someone, but some looking and flirting can’t be that bad. Come on, you have to admit, they are fine”

Tapping her chin she thought about something for a bit.

“Come to think of it, they are super sweet to me too. Maybe they feel the same? I really hope I’m right! I mean, what kind of a dream come true would that be? They are so dreamy…”

As she cups her face and looks off to the distance, the screen is filled with static and the scene ends.

-> Ripper

Any viewer who saw his smug face apprear in the booth must have anticipated to hear a gross or a straight up inaccurate statement from the teen. Not this time.

Instead, still filled with his self assurance, he began speaking.

“We all know who the other hot person here is. Y/n, obviously” the more he thought about his words the more embarrassed he became.

“Not that I care. I’m a guy, I don’t get feelings. And I don’t care about y/n. That’s a beta move and I am not a beta. All I care about is the grind. That’s why, when I win this, y/n will be so into me and will find me attractive and cool… but I won’t care because men don’t care about anything. Especially women. Wait. That’s not what i-“

In a shot at himself only Owen could rival, he got visibly embarrassed. Grumbling he crossed his arms in an defensive manner.

“Just because they’re smoking hot and laugh at my jokes they think they are so great. But I only care about winning. And beating my record. Speaking of which-“

He (or a poor intern, knowing his lack of shame) turned off the camera before, in his naturalistic fashion, he used the booth for its true purpose on TV.

->Damien

With his face a bit too close to the camera he attempts to record himself. After making sure that it’s working, he sits back with an unsure smile.

“Okay, that thing is not cooperating with me today. Or at all” he spoke. So far he managed to look out of place in every Total Drama location, bathroom included.

“But it’s not so bad here. I got to talk with y/n after the last challenge. We all looked pretty beat but they managed alright too. I hope they are okay though. I know I’m not” only half ironically he pointed to his bruised face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here” he addresses the elephant in the room “but if I play things right, maybe I will get somewhere with y/n. That and survive. Plus get the money. Mainly the money”

He leaned on his elbows towards the camera.

“I just like how cool and chill they are, alright to talk to. I don’t hate those other guys, but y/n is a nice change. And they look good”

He shifted, ready to leave, but before getting up he looked into the camera once again.

“Hope I can make the right moves” he gave the audience a half smile. And with that, the video ended.

#tdi #tdi x reader #total drama spoilers #total drama x reader #tdi emma #tdi bowie #td emma #td bowie #td damien #td emma x reader #td damien x reader #td bowie x reader #td priya #td priya x reader #td ripper #td ripper x reader #td x reader #new total drama #x reader

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leahsgf · 2 years ago

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Hey! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could write some head canons on how Nat would be as a partner. I’d love to know how you think she would react to affection and whatever else you might think up.

Thank you!

dating natalie scatorccio

pairings. pre crash! natalie scatorccio x reader

i find nat such a fascinating and layered character, i really enjoyed delving into a little part of her with this. i particularly focused on her and showing affection in the beginning & then spiralled into into pure fluff towards the end. i hope i did her justice and it’s what you had in mind! thank you for the req!

one thing i truly believe about natalie is that she has an incredible amount of love to give, despite the tough exterior that she puts up.

when she loves someone she loves them so deeply that it completely consumes her, despite the unfamiliarity of it terrifying her.

natalie has an immensely complicated relationship with intimacy and affection almost ingrained in her. it is when she feels her most vulnerable, and as she’s only been shown affection in the past solely for the other’s sexual benefit, building the trust in not only you but your intentions took time, and was a learning curve for the both of you.

her emotions hugely drive her actions, and this especially reflects when it comes to her love for you.

she is fiercely loyal and protective over you, and will go to any length to defend you, not wanting you to feel even a glimpse of hurt.

she is almost unbelievably observant. she knows all of you, and pays attention to every minuscule detail to which most turn a blind eye. she knows by the slightest twitch of your lip exactly how you’re feeling - and how to react to this. she knows all of your cues.

physically showing her affection, and allowing herself to be shown it was not something that came naturally to her in the slightest.

despite this, she knew exactly when you needed it, and was always more than happy to comply, secretly finding comfort herself within it, though rarely initiating in the beginning.

with time, she learns her own cues and allows herself to give into them, whether it be gently intertwining your hands whilst in public, allowing her fingers to freely roam your back - tracing a variety of shapes and doodles, or even pressing kisses all over your face until she reaches your lips, grinning and pretending not to melt as you blush furiously.

above all, nat’s values reassurance, alongside quality time with you.

you would tell her all day everyday if she needed, that you loved her with all of you, and that you aren’t going anywhere.

just some general wholesomeness

you go on a surprising amount of dates. they’re rarely the stereotypical fancy dress up dinner ones, especially because the few times you’ve attempted to, you never managed to actually leave the house due to natalie…..distracting you….when she sees you dressed up.

they’re more experiences, skinny dipping in a lake at midnight and forcing yourselves underwater when the nearby house’s lights switch on, or something like mini golfing, which natalie never loses (she does, without fail, everytime. sometimes you think she’s messing around. she’s that bad. but you’d never tell her that.)

skipping class together was more of a regular occurrence than either of you actually attending

she gets jealous easily, and has to bite her tongue when you even glance in the direction of another person, but at least she looks hot whilst doing it

you fall asleep in her lap or slumped against her shoulder, tucked into her neck, on a regular basis. she teases you relentlessly for it, but secretly, when you’re asleep she’ll be whispering for everyone to shut up through gritted teeth so you aren’t disturbed, throwing up the odd middle finger or two at taissa’s whip noises.

literally being the grumpy vs sunshine trope

making out in the locker room when the room is empty for more than a second, regardless of whether you’re on the team or not

the entire team just loving how happy you both make eachother and it actually adding to team spirit

you both balancing eachother out perfectly, you were calm where she was tense and she was outgoing where you were anxious.

#natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #headcanons

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marinetteplztakeabreak · 1 year ago

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My personal “screaming about the lack of Ladynoir in the finale” post TM

Don’t know how to preface this???

this isn’t hate for the finale,

this is more, me reveling in the Angst of what they Chose Not To Put and screaming and wailing about how ladynoir has me in a chokehold

Im coming to terms with the s5 finale and finding bits of hope for my Ladynoir heart, etc. And i have decided that the finale has a ton of very very cool potential.

But i still can’t stop imagining… what if Adrien had gotten the messages from Ladybug??? What if he was About to give up being Chat Noir and give in to hopelessness and nightmares and terror and the cage he was trapped in and THEN (probably via Plagg, they could make it work) he got the frantic terrified messages from ladybug that were like “hi where ARE you?!?!?! Kitty cat come in NOW i NEED YOU!!?!? Hawkmoth knows my identity i think i am going to die i am all alone please please please show up i need you pick up pick UP.”

What if he was like. “Oh.” And his world just. Shifted. He thought his worst fear was ending the world as chat or being trapped even further by transforming in front of his father and being Caught but now Neither of those matter… now the only fear is just… not being Enough for ladybug… the fear of losing her or letting her down or making her feel as alone and abandoned and hopeless as he does right now????

What if he just????? Transformed without a moment of hesitation??? What if he was there taking to her on the phone coaching her through breathing and telling her he promised she would be okay and he promised he would be proud of her no matter what happened???? What if his own nightmares and fears started slipping through on the call and SHE turned around and reassured HIM that she trusts him fully and if he can’t trust himself he can at least trust HER judgement????? What if they both managed to avoid the mind control by being Each Others’ alliance?????

What if Ladybug found out that Chat Noir was in London ,,, because if Her identity’s been revealed to Monarch and she’s In His House than it’s Already going to hell and secrets don’t matter anymore, it just matters that they trust each other??? All they ever WANTED was to be open and trust and now its all they have left??? And theres not identity reveal or speculation bc it doesnt MATTER right now it just matters to SURVIVE or at LEAST be together for the end.

What if she told him not to come to Paris because it’s too dangerous to be in the same spot and he was like “im so sorry but i Cannot do that i cant leave you there Alone” and she was like “i know. and i love you. And id do the same. And that’s also why i cant tell you who monarch is or where the house is because i KNOW you’ll come here and i cant stop you. We cant both be in his grasp i just need you on the phone”

What if she fought in the basement for her life while getting support from him whilst he rallied all the other heroes and the resistance across the surface of paris???? What if we had ladybug and chat noir fighting the same battle on two different fronts, both Very Aware of each others’ situation nonstop,,, working as a Team despite the distance????? What if chat was just nonstop doing everything he could to reassure ladybug that they were doing okay and everyone supported her and he Trusted Her to do anything because the nightmares were STILL debilitating for everyone including them and they couldnt afford for either of them to get akumatized or even DISTRACTED and they just told puns and reminded each other when to use their powers and when to breathe?????

And chat could be captured or whatever and have to call out to ladybug and she could be like “send me your kwami its okay you did so good, i’ll be okay ill see you again”

Bug noire could still happen but it would be a strategic choice BOTH of them made TOGETHER with pain and love mixed together rather than the result of major decisions that they both were forced to make Independantly with no communication only fear and guilt and lonliness???

I dont know how to explain this but this is not salt this is not hate towards the episode this is just,,,, UGH this show has made me SO INVESTED in the dynamics and they had a CHANCE to do stuff and make it so fun and they DIDNT ,,,, they CHOSE to make it darker and grittier this time and i think it’s probably going in a cool direction,,, i think that ladybug and chat noir are gonna have some Fun (for me not for them) things to Discuss after this and some brand new abandonment issues combined with weird bits of Hope that Apparently they can survive on their own, all in a messy weird blurry pool of fears and relief and guilt and lonliness!!!!! And there’s so much to explore

But ALSO i miss my ladynoir goddammit i miss when it was the ladybug and chat noir show and i feel a little bit hollow seeing how ALONE!!! BOTH OF THEM were!!! this entire finale!!!!!!!!! Why are they ALONE those are my LADYNOIR they are PARTNERS do not SEPARATE THEM!!!! Stop doing PLOTS and HARD DECISIONS and IN CHARACTER MISTAKES to them and PLEASE just let them be perfect and together anyways aaaaaaaaa

(Bonus u can read the absolute essay i accidentally put in my tags for more scrambled thoughts)

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 finale #ml recreation #ladynoir #me screaming #ml meta #i guess #i have no idea how to tag this #complicated feelings where i loved the finale i think #but also WOW did that hurt #which is kinda #proof of how impctful these chatacters are #and how hard this show makes you root for relationships #ive been thinking for So Long and i am just SURE #that after the themes and narratives this show has chosen to hold dear and make the audience care about #there is No Way this is the end of ladynoir #but i fear it may be Migrating #it might have to Go Away for a little while to let some character development happen #and i can imagine so many cool scenerios with ladynoir falling apart conflict #and so many ways for them to fall apart and fall back together #but all of them HURT like HECK and AAAA #i think the long post filter will help this and i wont have to add a read more but if theres issues with it being too long lmk #also whoopsie didnt mean to put essay in tags #i just. i have soooo many feelings #waaaaa #please please friends i am begging #someone write fanfiction of ladynoir being togeyher in the finale #just for . like. being in denial reasons #for reveling in the past and the eventual future reasons

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 2 years ago

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Only had Dalen's Closet downloaded on my phone so re-listened while doing lab things. Thinking Derrig throughts.

- Derrig met Vax, he says so himself. I wonder under what context, in Zephrah. Did they talk? Was it just moments here and there, passing by? They're both half-elves, I wonder if Derrig had any reassurance for this young man who had been so looked down upon for his heritage, adjusting to how much better Zephrah is. Advice about life, or Ashari customs. Maybe they sparred, to keep Vax's skills sharp, so he could know the Ashari's fighters were up to par. Maybe Vax babysat Will.

- he explicitly said he was going to share Scanlan's song about him with his kids. There’s a non-zero chance Orym knows the Borring Ballad of Derrig. And probably a sanitized version of Dalen's Closet too.

- He talked to Percy and Vex about parenthood. I wonder, when they were kidnapped, if he thought about the baby, sleeping somewhere. If how close Vesper got to becoming an orphan made him think of his own daughters.

- I'm wondering how he got to know Orym. Did Will befriend him first, and drag his friend in for dinner when it got late 'cause neither wanted to part? Or did Derrig (or Nel) see this single mother with a kid and offered to help, babysitting and sharing meals and such?

- did Will go down first? Did Derrig outlive his son for brief, terrible moments? Or did Derrig die unable to protect the Tempest or his baby boy? Did the fall of one distract the other, or make him reckless, dropping their guard?

Just. Boring ol Derrig.

Maggie I adore you oh my god

Derrig probably would have met Vax quite frequently. He would have been Keyleth's guard for a little bit in Zephrah when they went outside the main center. And Vax absolutely sparred with him to get a sense of how the Ashari fight because he was already wanting to be a Tempest Blade in the future. And being around a half-elf like Derrig just meant so much to Vax. I don't think Derrig ever understood how much Vax cherished his company and advice.

He would absolutely have been terrified about Vesper being left alone, and he had half a mind to go back to the hotel and make sure she was okay, but he couldn't leave Keyleth.

And I think that how he and Orym met, it was a bit of both. He and Nel welcomed Orym's mother in as often as she needed, taking care of her and Orym as needed. And when when Orym grew up, Will started dragging him over all the time. And he and Nel knew that Orym's mother often was working so they took him in whenever he came by.

And I think that Derrig went down first trying to protect Will. Only for Will to be so distraught seeing his father die in front of him that he accidentally let a blow slip through and died just moments later.

#critical role #lis makes hcs #vox machina

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becaexists · 2 years ago

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Gonna vent for just a second because I literally have no one to talk to about this so y'know turning to the internet as one does

All over my social medias like Twitter and tiktok (I know they're bad but sometimes they're designed to trap you) everyone is talking about Brianna Ghey, the 16 year old trans girl that was murdered on Saturday. She was a year younger than me, I have friends that are the same age, and all I have seen all day because I've been travelling thus had nothing better to do than to stare at my phone, is so much of the same thing, the same kind of posts, just talking about how this sweet young girl was murdered, potentially out of hate for our community but they're "not sure", and it is really fucking getting to me.

I know it sounds selfish as hell to because it sounds like "oh there was a trans girl murdered and I have to complain about seeing it everywhere" but it's not that, it's the things people put in and under the posts about it. So many of the people trying to spread awareness are trying to be reassuring by saying shit like "to trans youths, we stand by you, this should not be happening" but that doesn't help, because I'm terrified out my fucking mind that if I start trying to be myself, I might get fucking murdered too. What's worse is all of the horrible things transphobic people are saying, like "she's a boy", and "she deserves it" and "example of what should happen to all those trans freaks" because those are actual things I've read today.

And it's not just her case specifically, it's the constant despair I feel as a trans person where my right to exist are constantly being questioned by the only government I've ever known. I open twitter and see stories of how trans rights are being stripped back all over the western world, how people were abandoned by family after coming out as trans, about how being trans is so incredibly awful with little silver linings of "at least you're yourself". So I open tiktok to distract myself, where I see more people talking about the same things, about how the people in government hate us so fucking much. This whole corecore thing is important to highlight the awful shit but when that's the only thing you're seeing with maybe a few cat videos and stupid family guy or movie scenes while someone plays with slime makes to split them up it really makes you feel nothing but despair.

I just wanna get away from it all. I want people to stop talking about it but that's not exactly what I want? I want it to have never happened. I want to live in a world where these things don't happen. I want to live in a world where I can leave the house without being terrified of being hatecrimed or murdered for being who I am. I didn't come out as a trans guy until this year even though I knew for ages I wanted to be a guy, I didn't come out because if I came out in high school, my "all girls" high school where I was already severely bullied for being autistic and queer, I would be fucking dead right now, either from being murdered like she was or from suicide, which I was so so so fucking close to doing after some girl publicly berated me for asking one of my teachers to not call me my deadname (I was going for a fem NB approach to my transness at the time and thought that Bee was the start of something much more fitting for me) because she was right, no one would ever see me as anything other than some pretty but unpopular girl trying to somehow both escape the torture of womanhood and make myself more intriguing

If I could choose anything else, I would. I would not be trans. I would be a regular teenage girl who likes parties and stupid roadmen and skipping lesson to smoke and vape. But I'm not. And my mum, my own mother, has said "if you would choose not to be this, why don't you? Why don't you just go back to being my girl?" And I want to. But I need to be a boy to live. If I don't transition, I might just die from all the self hatred of what I have to pretend to be. I just can't do it.

Sorry this was long, I just have many many emotions and if I said this anywhere else I might just be on the receiving end of some of the same stupid shit people are saying about Brianna. I hope she finds peace somewhere where there isn't so much hatred.

#I just want it all to go away #I want to exist #I've ingrained it into as many things as I can so I don't forget it #I am beca #and I exist #personal vent #trans vent #vent post #again sorry for the long post #nowhere else I can say this #parents don't care #brothers are dickheads as most teenage boys are #my friends are all miles away and asleep #so yeah internet #Idk how to tag these things so if you want me to add a tag just message me or ask me or smth idk #don't worry I'm not gonna kms #gotten pretty good at self regulating this shit so I'll be fine in the morning

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traumamade · 2 years ago

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Cooking is a way he shows his love, it speaks for him more than any words he could ever say would. When words fail him, actions never do. This is why he prefers actions over words, at least for himself. He likes hearing reassurances, praises, and the like from partners but for himself? He prefers showing rather than saying.

However, if she rather him pick up some food he will not argue. As relaxing as cooking is for him, Leon isn't so sure he has the time to put together a picnic fully made from scratch. Maybe one day he can make her an exquisite picnic but for now, he will settle with store bought items.

Which brings a question to the forefront of his mind. How is it that after all this time, he still knows so little about her? An amused thought hits him next - probably because most of their time together has been fucking.

Now, they're going on a real date. Holy shit, this is getting real and already Leon can feel the nerves settling in the pit of his stomach, fluttering about like a bird trying to get free from a cage. Fuck, he didn't think what this would fully mean through, did he?

Shit, he's going to be a horrible boyfriend. He hasn't had an actual commited relationship in years, he doesn't know where the hell to begin, and he has to admit a part of him is terrified that one big fight will end in her leaving. Is it really worth the risk of heartbreak?

Yes, he thinks a second later, for her it is worth it and more.

Ah, fuck, he hadn't said anything had he? Lost in his own little world for a least a minute, he hopes that she isn't as observant as he is, and doesn't notice the freak out going on in his had. Or if she does, chalks it up to the last 24 or so hours.

"What kind of foods would you like me to pick up?" He finally asks, considering he has no idea about her dietary preferences. He wants to ensure he makes this worthwhile, maybe even special, so that she enjoys herself and the food.

Ah, that's right, he'd almost forgotten about the pain that radiates throughout his entire body. Funny how well of a distraction she is that it prevents him from feeling the pain for a bit. Either that, or he's so used to pain by now it's simply become background noise.

"Yeah. I'm surprised I didn't break something." Or did he? He really can't tell if he's just really badly bruised or if he has a broken rib but he decides not to worry about it and instead slowly make his way towards the bed, refusing to move too fast because of the bruises.

Would be strange to just lounge nude on his bed all day (not that he'd complain), so she's moving to borrow more of his clothing. There's a pang of guilt, but for now, she retrieves the oldest, blandest articles available, wondering if she might make it up to him later by running a load of laundry for him.

Once she's draped in a faded tee (going commando, of course), the conversation is resumed.

"Picnic sounds perfect, actually." She returns to her roost on his bed, legs daintily crossed. "Ah, I would enjoy the food either way but..." Is it distasteful to ask your partner to cook a whole meal for the date they're technically planning? She'd of course offer to help...but...well. He saw how that went.

The man is already so busy. Stressed. It's not polite to shoulder him with the obligation of a homecooked meal. Aurélie isn't confident he even enjoys cooking for other people. There was brief mention of it reminding him of home, but that can be a complicated sort of feeling.

"...that's fine, yeah, you can pick something up. I'll grab the booze. Obviously it's not happening soon. Your torso still looks like a Jackson Pollock, heh."

#micromemorium

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Alador the Abomination

Mind you, I DO like Alador and think he’s interesting, as Dana said, but;

I also want to be careful about him. Because not only is this the dude who still went with his wife on forcing Amity to cut ties with Willow, but also…

While Alador does have a sense of honor that he’ll hold his wife towards, it’s worth noting that he also points out that Amity’s strength in Abominations is important and useful, because it means she could become the new head of the Abomination Coven, the way Rayne replaced the first one for the Bard Coven and all that.

Alador seems impressed by Amity’s work, and thus seems to be a lot more opportunistic about it; And, I think that kind of fits his magic! Alador specializes in Abominations. Like his Abominations, he’s much more go-with-the-flow, the path of least resistance. He’s adaptable, moldable, shapeable, and not very talkative…

He sees that Amity is stepping up for herself, and instead of trying to fight back, he just goes with it! Alador adapts, he decides to make use of Amity’s growing strength in Abominations, and change the plan from having her join the Emperor’s Coven, to leading the Abomination Coven instead! Not to mention, Alador is the person who makes things happen for Odalia, being the inventor who crafts her tech and helps carry out her will- One might say that in some ways, Alador is Odalia’s Abomination in a sense! Like his creations, simple-minded, easy to distract sometimes…

But also VERY focused on his own goals. Loyal, obedient, and capable of stepping in to direct his own ‘master’ in a sense. And Alador is, as I said, a flexible person; He can work with Amity’s defiance while Odalia gets angry enough to go back on her own word, because she refuses to be wrong.

Odalia is strict… Because she’s an Oracle. Oracles expect things to go a certain way after all, what with their visions- So when things don’t go the way she wants or anticipated, she’s very flustered and angry. Odalia hates being proven wrong, her certainty in what will happen, that things will go exactly as she expects and anticipates, it makes her rather lofty and arrogant.

Odalia is a planner and a schemer, so she really considers and predicts how things will go for the business. Odalia is the dreamer, the leader, the person who comes up with ideas, while Alador? He makes them happen. He makes solutions to Odalia’s problems and desires with his Abominations, but he’ll also provide a solution to Amity’s defiance… Not in trying to fight back, but with rolling with that. Letting it be, and changing this plan they had for years on the spot, because Amity has a LOT of talent.

Like an Abomination, Alador doesn’t really try to fight back, he just goes along… Except this Abomination does have his own ideas of course. He can make this setback work, like he does his inventions and Odalia’s plans. With how the Golden Guard explained to the couple that Belos doesn’t want a private army used against him, I actually have to lowkey wonder if Odalia and Alador HAD meant or considered it, or if they were just fine with selling to the highest bidder…

But with how Al is clearly an opportunist in his own right, just a lot more subtle and ignored in favor of the ‘brains’ of the operation, the way an Abomination is… Who knows? Maybe he’s had his own ideas about grabbing some influence for the family. It’d be interesting, as Dana might put it, if in a lot of ways Alador can be more clever and adaptable than Odalia, but even have more imagination when it comes to schemes –he IS an inventor after all- but he’s still happily subservient to her, because Alador is doing this ALL for her.

He might get the job done for her, it might result in Alador knowing how to handle Odalia’s problems better than her; But it is for HER, and so he acts like a second opinion that his wife takes seriously. Alador is usually content to roll along and make into reality whatever Odalia wants, so if he’s deciding to speak up, if he decides this idea of his is more important; Then it clearly must be worth something. Alador is someone who talks scarcely but meaningfully, putting a lot of weight into his rare moments because this is when he NEEDS to speak up.

I think Al was being NICE to Amity, but only really so he could use her. Nice in the way you’re nice to someone so you can get them to do something for you, and not out of the actual inclinations of your good heart, or your responsibilities as a good person. Which, Al does bring up Odalia’s honor as a Blight, but he still has that ulterior motive;

With Amity, he seems to have realized that he needs to give her what she wants, so Al can get what HE wants as well… Maybe that’s what he’s like with Odalia, lowkey? He gives Odalia what she wants, so he gets his own goals accomplished; And that’s why he’s generally so subservient, but capable of putting his foot down whenever he wants?

So maybe Alador has a lot more power and control in this relationship than we think. Maybe… He’s savvy enough to recognize that being chill, having compromise, can sometimes yield more reliable results, while Odalia needs control no matter what. In that way, you could argue Alador would make a pretty great beast-keeper as well…

And likewise, him and Odalia are giving Belos what HE wants with an army of Abominations and automatons… And in turn, getting what they want; Power and profit. They’re a business after all, they give people what they want, providing supply to a certain demand… And they might have other ulterior motives, which the Golden Guard might’ve implied to their faces. Either way, I think Alador could be a neat idea of negotiation not necessarily meaning someone is weaker, just… More adaptable and in some ways clever. He’s underestimated…

Al CHOOSES to obey his wife, is what I’m saying, because compromise works out better in the end- And that’s not entirely wrong, either! It’s a pragmatic viewpoint, which fits an inventor who has to figure out how to realistically make things work; While Odalia has visions, she sees futures and things, she gets an idea or dream, a scenario in mind, and predicts it. She comes up with an idea, Alador then carries it out. And the fact that he LETS this happen, instead of being helplessly out of control, that he can step in anytime like he did at the end of Escaping Expulsion… Yeah, that’s genuinely WORSE in so many ways.

Odalia floundered and for a moment was scared and terrified, she was angry and indignant and desperately trying to damage control… And it was ALADOR who reassured her, Alador who showed her what to do in that moment, how this was good- It was Alador who helped Odalia seize control of the situation again, without having to do anything else other than widen her view a bit and adapt. He has her back and manages to salvage this for Odalia, so she trusts him.

Alador is definitely, as Dana put it, interesting…

#the owl house #the owl house alador #alador blight #the owl house odalia #odalia blight #character analysis #meta #symbolism

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sassyhobbits · 4 years ago

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rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

#every time i write a baby fic im like #is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies #rowaelin #my writing #tog

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the-passenger-if · 3 years ago

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A prompt for the angst but!! How would the ros deal/treat/react to a newman that had frequent panic attacks? (If your comfortable answering, and no ones asked before) I imagine since the whole reason we're on earth is because we're trying to hide from this eldritch diety who wants to inhale us whole, and to top it all off newman doesnt even have enough energy to leave. That would cause any being an extreme of stress and anxiety. Especially after Tzr'nekre actually finally locates us

combining it with

if its not too spoilery, how would the ROs react to the MC waking up from a nightmare (say, one in which the RO got possessed by tzr'nekre?) and MC just clings to them, crying, after waking up, and refusing to explain but its obvious they had a terrible nightmare?

This isn’t what Fiama imagined when she was awaken by Newman’s warm face pressing against her breasts, ragged breathing and all. She wants to grab a hold of their head, hold them there, but as her hand brushes their cheek, she finds it damp. Maybe with sweat, maybe with tears.

“Baby?” she asks in a hushed whisper. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

The only reply she gets is a stuttering intake of breath. And then her partner’s arms are sneaking around her—one under her neck, the other around her waist—and Newman is squeezing her tight.

Fiama is strong, she has always been. Her mother once told her—not in kind terms—that she truly took after her father’s sisters; their arms, made to keep children from ripping one another’s eyes out, their legs to carry drunken husbands back home. Now, trapped in Newman’s strong embrace, she feels like the type of dainty, unobtrusive creature her mom wished she had grown into.

She takes a deep breath—as deep as she's able to within her lover’s tight grip—and tries again. “Babe… you’re… crushing me.”

The hold eases up an instant later, but Newman doesn’t let go. They bury their wet face in Fiama’s neck, still silent. It’s alarming to say the least, but she keeps her voice calm. “Are you hurting?” Newman shakes their head. “Are you sad?” She hugs them, feels them shaking in her arms—Newman doesn’t shake like this. “Are you scared?” She didn’t want to sound so flabbergasted (so ‘judgy’ her mother would say) but she can’t help it.

Once again, Newman doesn’t answer, but they do bury their face deeper into Fiama. It takes her by surprise; they have always seemed so unaffected by everything…

She hugs them tight and says the only thing she can think of, “I’m here, babe. And I’ll always be. I don’t know what or who is making you feel like this, but you aren’t alone. I’m with you.” She kisses the top of their head, murmuring every promise she knows she can keep.

A few minutes later, Newman is fast asleep again.

---

Sleeping next to another person in a bed that wasn’t made to be shared by two adults is uncomfortable, but it was late and Newman hadn’t brought their bike, ignoring that Joaquin’s car was at the shop, and Lucia had taken hers that night.

It’s ok, Jonny thinks to himself while he stares at the ceiling, we’ll just wait until my folks leave for work tomorrow. It doesn’t have to get awkward for anyone.

When was the last time he’d shared a bed? Probably when he was around twelve and Quino got scared by a storm and woke him up in the middle of the night, cold hands slipping under the sheets and touching the back of his neck. Dumbass always did the same thing, no matter how many times Jonny punched him to dissuade him. Of course Jonny could never stay mad at his twin for long, and they would share the bed in the end—Jonny grousing about Quino’s cold hands and Quino whining about Jonny hogging the covers.

As if invoking his brother, he feels hands around his neck now; cold, sweaty hands. Even though they don't belong to Quino, the way they’re clinging to him is pretty reminiscent of the way his twin used to squeeze him whenever lightning stroke too close.

“Are you ok?” he asks stupidly. Of course they aren’t; Newman is scared. “What is it?” he tries again, but Newman says nothing, they only keep tightening their grasp around Jonny. He takes their hands and tries to free himself. “Newman, you’re going to choke me.”

Slowly, those cold fingers loosen, giving him a chance to sit up.

“Don’t go!”

“Hush,” Jonny hisses. “Damn it, Newman. Remember we aren’t alone.” He takes the hand that is now gripping the front of his shirt and tries to hold it, but Newman doesn’t budge. “Please,” he whispers.

“Don’t go,” it’s the barely audible plea he gets as a reply.

“I won’t,” he assures them. After another second, Newman lets go, and Jonny takes the hand and gently rubs it between his. “Come here,” he whispers, and Newman doesn’t need to be told twice. They get between his legs and rest on their side and against Jonny’s chest. Jonny takes the covers and pulls them over both of them, and there, with an arm around Newman’s shoulder, he can feel their muscles begin to slowly relax.

---

Roach didn’t usually do this; lying down in bed while their conquests sleep. They had realized that there was so much one could do to pass the time, and watching people drooling was amusing just the first dozen times.

They turn another page of the magazine they stole from that gas station three towns over, the one with the old, balding clerk that had given Roach the evil eye from the moment they dared to set a foot in his territory.

The light is off but that’s ok because Roach doesn’t need it to read, the same way they don’t need it to sneak glances at Newman’s sleeping form. It’s something they do, they tell themself, to pass the time, and not because Newman’s face is nice to look at or anything like that. They aren’t expecting to find their companion awake the next time they look their way, least of all with a terrified look set on their face.

Roach opens their mouth to ask what’s going on, but the words die out as they are wrapped in a tight embrace. The fact that they were so distracted by Newman’s expression that their reflexes vanished for a hot minute, says something. Something Roach doesn’t want to acknowledge right now, so they don’t. Instead, they let their body go limp in Newman’s arms, let them squeeze and squash until they seem to come out of their trance.

“R-Roach?”

“Yes?” they ask in return.

“Are you… ok?”

Roach wriggles to put some distance between Newman and them—as much as their companion’s steel grip allows, anyway—and runs a hand over Newman’s face, wiping off the sweat. “Just a couple broken ribs,” they say, “I’ll live. What about you? What had you panicking like this?”

Newman retracts from those words like a shy snail. It really takes Roach by surprise. They can’t think of many things that might scare Newman, which at least makes the list of suspects quite short.

“Hey,” they whisper in a way that they hope sounds both unaffected and reassuring, “I would know, remember? There’s only you and me here, no third roommate. You can relax.”

Their words, true as they are, do very little to calm Newman down, so Roach sighs and nuzzles against their jaw. “Squeeze away then,” they mutter and kiss Newman’s skin. “I’ll be the prettiest stress ball you’ll ever have.”

---

It isn’t a gentle awakening. Horizon’s muddled thoughts crash into one another as the Domini unsuccessfully tries to slip away from the tight embrace they are being subjected to. What’s going on? their mind asks, half asleep, half panicking.

Memories from last night come back to them as if slogging through a swamp; they remember having dinner with Newman, chatting and somehow ending up in bed together. They remember the tenderness of the moment, the way they felt like they could melt as Newman and they cuddled together...

Horizon strains their neck trying to look over their shoulder, but even with the rays of moonlight seeping through the window, the only thing they have an eyeful of it’s their own dark curls. Newman’s chest is pressed against Horizon’s back and now that the Domini is fully awake, they can feel the other’s racing heartbeat. It scares Horizon, it makes them want to ask what’s going on, what happened to Newman, what, what, what…

They fight those urges. They take a deep breath, find one of Newman’s hands and softly cover it with theirs. “You are in my cabin,” they whisper, “you are in ranch 48, in Luna Ridge. We had diner and I asked you to spend the night. Remember that?”

There’s a long pause, then Horizon feels them nodding against their back. A couple seconds later the iron grip eases up. It gives the Domini a chance to turn around, and very gently press their forehead against Newman’s damp one. “Deep breaths,” they whisper and then are doing just that, hoping Newman will follow their example. An instant later, they are.

Feeling Newman’s muscles relax as they get their breathing under control brings a smile to the Domini’s face.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon

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your-turn-to-role · 3 years ago

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well into the final CR1 arc and I have decided to become a Sprigg stan account

LOOK BIG MOOD

darin de paul is my favourite guest on cr, hands down

like...

1) the sheer fantastic comedic energy he brought, no other guest comes close, you can see how unexpectedly delighted all the other players are just to see him work, and matt's having a lot of fun playing demistrik too, like... god i've tried to bring sprigg's energy into some of my own npcs while dming because there really is no character more fun to play than an absolutely unpredictable old man with weird strong opinions about everything

(and quirks like the "let's come up with a mnemonic device in case we need to jump him", that are way longer than the phrase itself, in full earshot of everyone, just, fantastic)

2) i love the legacy just sprigg as a character brings? i don't know if you know this already if you're just watching it, but, sprigg's been alone for 37 years because darin de paul last played sprigg 37 years ago, in a campaign with matt's mother

like! he's full of history because he literally is full of history, and it's a legacy that's deeply personal to the show by nature of being a family relation to the dm!

3) [and, spoilers for 106 and 107, don't know where you're up to] i've talked about this before i'm sure but... darin de paul could not have brought a better character for everyone's character arcs if he tried

especially vax and keyleth

bc like... what they're dealing with right now is keyleth's worst fear. she was hesitant about getting in a relationship at all because she knew her lifespan was in the thousands of years and she didn't want to get close to someone and then outlive them. she didn't want to let things matter to her and then risk losing them, and vax helped her get away from that

he convinced her it was worth it, and then this happened. they know one way or another only one of them makes it out of this alive, and it's probably not vax. (he even has the line in 107, "i know the chance you took on me, and i've confirmed your worst fears and then some")

and neither of them are okay, meeting sprigg, bc it's that huge reminder, because sprigg ran away, and his friends died, and he forgot all their names

and everyone else thinks sprigg is just talking nonsense but keyleth looks at him and sees a mirror, she understands him perfectly and it's terrifying

and like. vax and keyleth haven't talked about this, at this point, because they don't know how to, and they're scared to even face each other. and i think, had sprigg not showed up right here, they might have done that for all the time they had left. because neither of them knew how to face this, it was just too overwhelming

but here he is. keyleth's worst possible ending. alone, left with half a mind, paranoid, stuck in this hut in the forest building traps. everyone he ever cared about has faded from his mind. and vox machina, they just found out percy and vex got married in secret, and while scanlan's teasing them, vax and keyleth are angry and silently crying in a corner, because they can't ever have that, and what do they do in this meantime, where vax is a walking ghost and they know that time's almost up, and keyleth is so desperate not to be alone?

(and the gods, too, sprigg hates ioun, even though he's her champion, he doesn't think she ever helped him and he'd be better off without her. and keyleth never understood how the raven queen helped vax, she only saw the ways in which he got hurt, and she's never been one for gods either)

but those things aren't gone. none of them are gone, sprigg's just been distracted from them. he does come to remember them, with the right help, and that's the first spark of hope for keyleth. for both of them, because he is vax and keyleth in one, he's been the lone survivor, but he keeps his friends in his heart, and he chooses to fulfill his duties to ioun and stay with her as her champion. it's reassuring vax, too, that he's not just walking into oblivion.

and it's that that grants them the courage to face up to this and talk to each other, and actually maybe be somewhat okay with this

and i could be here all day if i detail everyone, but to briefly go into it, percy and scanlan too

because ioun's library is an important step in percy's arc, which has always been about legacy. he's deeply concerned with legacy above everything, and has been absolutely devastated by both the loss of his family, his city, and their family history (matt mentions at one point the briarwoods burned a lot of the family records and percy looks so angry at that), and the fact that, under the influence of a demon, he then turned his own legacy into one of mass murder. there's a lot of important steps in percy's character arc but all of them relate in some way to, what came before me, and what do i leave for others

and this is the first spark of hope he's ever seen! he argues with keyleth in 56 about the importance of monuments, they're not about pride, they're about remembering those who came before (and, again, percy and keyleth's arcs, incredibly interlinked), and percy has none. everything that makes him has been deliberately destroyed by someone, and that's incredibly difficult for him to deal with. but here, in this library, is a record of everyone who ever lived. he doesn't have to shoulder the responsibility and guilt of turning the sole legacy of hundreds of years of family history into one of destruction. because these records are permanent, no matter what happens, his family mattered, because they're here, and no amount of fuck ups on his part can destroy that

and scanlan, scanlan's singled out by sprigg immediately. and that may just be because he's the only other gnome present, but sprigg was right, they do have a connection. because scanlan ran away. he saw the tide turning into things he wasn't ready to face up to, and he did exactly what sprigg did, and didn't care about the consequences. and he's now realising how badly that hurt vox machina

but he has something sprigg doesn't, which is that his friends are still alive. sprigg's friends died because of his betrayal, but vox machina are here to give him a second chance. and this is the episode where he really steps up. he sees that, he makes a conscious decision to not be like sprigg, and for the first time in his life, he takes responsibility. and it's scanlan stepping up that saves them

#this is like four meta posts in one so i apologise if it's rambly #but like seriously the impact darin de paul had on the story was INCREDIBLE #cr1 #c1e105 #c1e106 #sprigg #vax'ildan #keyleth #scanlan shorthalt #percy de rolo #crit role cast #ask #text #meta #cr thoughts

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fortuositywritings · 3 years ago

Text

The Great Animal Rescue

Summary: You should have minded your own business, but try saying no to a little girl who was crying for her cat. Now you are stuck in a tree trying not to embarrass yourself in front of the attractive individual who comes to your rescue.

A/N: This is a Skye/Daisy x reader short that is meant to give some background for them in I Said No

___________________________________________________________________

2:17pm

Y/N where r u??

You are stuck in a tree with no way down is where you are. You should really learn to say no to people. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place. You were on your way to meet your friends at the movies after stopping at an ice cream shop for a cone. You thought, why not walk the way there? It is only a few blocks away and it’s nice outside.

So you began walking, licking your ice cream happily. It’s nothing compared to the ice cream shop in the small town where your cousin lives, but this one is still pretty damn good. Not two minutes into your stroll, the sound of someone sniffling made you pause. You hesitated to investigate where the noise was coming from, seeing that your cousin’s husband has given you plenty of lectures about stranger danger. You ignored the voice in your head saying he might have a point. He spends a lot of his time in New York; there are a lot of weirdos there. This is LA in broad daylight. The worst thing that could happen where you were at the moment would have been getting run over by an electric scooter.

Clearly you were wrong.

It turned out to be some kid crying because her cat wouldn’t come down from the tree. You asked her where her parents were. She said they were inside the house and wouldn’t come outside because if the cat could climb up, it would eventually come back down. You told her they were probably right and were about to leave her there on the sidewalk but that was before she gave you some of the most adorable puppy dog eyes and a “please”.

You asked the girl to hold your cone while you spotted the cat. It didn’t seem to be too far up into the tree. You started climbing up, grabbing a branch and hoisting yourself up. One branch made a on your green sweater, making you mumble in displeasure the rest of the way up to the cat. You should have listened to her parents as well. As soon as you had reached the cat, the damn thing ran past you and ran down the tree like a squirrel. You nearly lost your balance.

The girl thanked you even though you didn’t really do anything and ran inside her house after her cat, taking your ice cream with her. After mumbling to yourself on never falling for some puppy eyes again, you realized how far up you actually were. Your face blanched and your grip tightened around the tree branch keeping you balanced.

You felt your phone vibrate and it took you 5 minutes to actually take it out to read the message. That’s where you are at right now. Trying to message your friend Ola back, typing with one shaky thumb.

2:23pm

Stuck intr ee two block sway help

Before pressing send, you think it over. Should you message her back? You know if you tell her to come rescue you, she would come with the rest of the gang and they would never let you live it down. Is it worth it? Better that than dying up here, you think.

Going to press send, your sweaty hand loses its grip on your phone and it falls onto the grass below. “Fuck!”

“Fuck!” Someone echoes from below, startling you in return. “Shit!”

You’re practically hugging the tree at this point. The person below you speaks to you, “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing up there?”

You hesitate to look down but brave the fear of looking down to see the woman talking to you. And what a spectacular view you have. Had you not already been weak in the knees from being so terrified, you would have some now from looking at this gorgeous person. She’s clearly waiting for your reply, so you clear your throat and say, “Rescuing a cat. What are you doing?”

“Walking to my van.” She points to the van across the street. “Where’s the cat?”

“What?” you ask. She raises an eyebrow at you. “You said you were rescuing a cat, but I don’t see any.”

“Very observant of you,” you point out, not answering her question. She narrows her eyes at you. “You’re not like some weirdo trying to peek into someone’s bedroom are you?”

You scoff. “What?! No! I’m one for one on rescuing cats, actually. It went back inside to its house.” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’re the one with the creepy ‘I’ve got candy inside my van’ van, so.”

Now this stranger looks embarrassed. “It’s for work.”

“Who do you work for? The CIA?” you joke, making the woman laugh. “They’d wish.”

It’s your turn to give her a questioning look at the odd response. She ignores it and loops back to you. “So if this great animal rescue went just like you said, why are you still up there?”

“To, uh-get better reception,” you lie. She looks at you unimpressed and you see why when she bends down to pick up the phone you dropped. “You mean for the phone that’s down here on the ground?”

You laugh nervously. She catches on when she notices how tight your hold on the tree is. “Are you sure you’re not just stuck up there?”

“What? Stuck? Me?” you laugh as if what she is saying is just offensive. “No, I just liked the peacefulness the tree provided. I dropped my phone on purpose. Yeah, I didn’t want it to distract me from really appreciating the beauty of the world around us.”

“Yeah, the McDonalds down the road really does look beautiful in the daylight,” she quips.

“It’s the wonder of the golden arches,” you retort, pulling a genuine laugh from the woman.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” she says. You dryly swallow, afraid that your chance at getting down from the tree will leave with her. She speaks up again. “But before I go, would you like me to send the message to Ola that somewhat reads ‘Stuck in a tree two blocks away help’?”

She smirks and you sigh at being caught. “Okay, truth is I’m deathly afraid of heights. I didn’t realize how high I actually was until I tried coming down.”

“Well, that’s okay. It is one of the most common fears,” she reasons.

“It’s embarrassing. I can’t even look at a plane without feeling nauseous.”

“Well, I think you’ve been doing well so far. Look how long you lasted up there while looking down towards me.” She points.

“That’s only because you’re a good distraction,” you confess.

She begins to climb up towards you. “Aww, are you trying to call me beautiful?”

You blush and don’t say anything though the silence speaks for you. She finally gets to you. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now, let’s get you down this tree, Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood?” you question the nickname. “Is it because of the tree?”

“That. Also, the tights and green top pull it all together. We just need to get you a bow and some arrows and you’ll be set.” The irony at the fact that there are plenty of arrows and bows at your cousin’s house due to her husband’s profession isn’t lost on you. Unfortunately, any joke you could make about it would get you in trouble, so you just smile at the beauty trying to help you down.

She offers you her hand and helps you get down the tree branch to branch with all the patience in the world. Not once does she complain about the death grip you have on her hand. When your feet feel the ground beneath them, you feel like crying. Instead you just let go of the stranger’s hand and try to get your heartbeat to settle down to it’s regular pace.

“Not too bad, see? Soon you’ll be bungee jumping,” she jokes.

“That’s a big leap from getting down from a tree.”

“Well, yeah. It’s bungee jumping. Leaping is the first half of the process,” she says sarcastically. You roll your eyes at her playfully. Then she smiles at you with a gleam in her eye as if she just had the best idea in the world. “How about we start with something smaller then? What are you doing on Friday?”

“Um, I don’t have any plans yet.”

“Now you do. Friday night, you will be taking the next step to conquering your fear of heights!”

“It’s not bungee jumping, is it?” you ask, petrified. As beautiful as this girl may be, risking your life for the chance to see this girl one more time doesn’t seem like a well thought out trade.

“Calm down, Robin Hood. I was thinking more along the lines of getting you to ride the ferris wheel at the fair,” she reassures you, making you blush.

“Like on a date?” you shyly ask. God, you hope you didn’t just embarrass yourself.

“Like on a date.” She smiles at you and your heart feels like it’s skipping.

“Y/N.” You throw out. She looks lost so you explain, “Every Robin Hood has a name for when they aren’t up in trees ready to rob rich people. Mine happens to be Y/N.”

“Skye.” She offers her name and you take it so willingly, letting it ruminate in your mind. “Here.” She pulls your phone out of the pocket she had put it in. She goes to your contacts and adds herself in before handing it back to you. You stare down at it in wonder.

“Well, I think your friends might be waiting on you, so…” She begins walking backwards. “I’ll see you Friday, Y/N!”

She turns around looking both ways before jogging across the street towards her van. You see her pull into the street nodding at you before driving off. You wave back after the van, dumbstruck. “What the hell just happened?” You mumble to yourself.

****

“You know when you said I would be getting on the ferris wheel, I assumed you meant you would go on it with me,” you grumble, making your way over to Skye who was waiting for you by the exit gate of the ride.

She reaches for your hand pulling you closer to her. “Some things, you have to learn to do alone. You just have to let the belief that something great will come out of pushing through your fear guide you through that fear.”

“I don’t think any funnel cake we get later was worth that experience,” you pout.

“Okay, then how about this,” she says before pulling you in to kiss you. It doesn’t last long but you let it consume you for the seconds you have. You open your eyes when she continues, “and a second date?”

“Only if it ends just like that,” you counter. She kisses you again, the second kiss leaving you just as dazed as the first.

“Deal,” she agrees, pulling you towards the funnel cake truck. “Next date, Robin Hood takes on Six Flags!”

“Wait, what?!”

_____________________________________________________________________

So, just a side little thing for some Reader and Daisy/Skye context before she eventually shows up in I Said No. It feels like I’m giving this reader a whole Universe. The world does in fact revolve around Y/N.

Obviously (or maybe not) I dropped some references to the other fic but really you could read either without needing to read the other (if it truly breaks your heart to see reader with anyone else).

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife

#agents of shield #daisy johnson x reader #skye x reader #daisy johnson imagine #agents of shield imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine

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