#i really wish i had seen this BEFORE ending up in the ER again because my doctor wouldn't prescribe it to me without going

[impulsivelycontentious]

Unfortunately the effectiveness of paxlovid is waining FAST.

https://www.webmd.com/covid/news/20230922/paxlovid-weaker-against-current-covid-variants

It can still help with severe acute patients and some high risk patients but already shows no difference for people not in at-risk groups who are also vaccinated. It's effectiveness on the vaccinated population is much reduced (still helpful if you're high risk).

https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/study-shows-nirmatrelvir-ritonavir-no-more-effective-than-2024a10006gb

My last bout of covid came with a warning about the reduced effectiveness. I wish I'd seen this about the cost like... 11 days ago. I was bounced in to the hospital again but it wasn't worth it at full price. I would have used it to protect my heart from further damage if i'd known I could get it, but you will find health care professionals rightfully warning you that it's not as good as it used to be.

So, be aware, it can still help the at risk and vaccinated but it's not gonna be easy.

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

[romione-trope-fest]

Speak Now

Title: Speak Now

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Summary: In the midst of trying to navigate what life looks like following the defeat of Voldemort, and the loss of so many, there’s one thing glaringly missing. The irony of it all is it takes someone else’s wedding to give Ron the kick in the pants he needs to go after what—or rather *who*—he wants.

Word Count: 1988

Rating: G

TW: mentions of character death (all canon)

“Ron, I need to ask you for a favor.” Ron’s hand stops on the doorknob, the floorboards creaking under his feet. 

The thick piece of wood is the only thing separating him from a much needed afternoon nap. Sleep has been evading him. Nightmares torturing his mind as he tosses and turns on the lumpy old mattress that’s been his for as long as he can remember.

He shoots his brother a withering look, letting go of the handle as he turns to face him. “Right now?” 

It’s been two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two weeks since Fred died. Two weeks since Harry defeated Voldemort. And two weeks since he and Hermione kissed.

Every waking moment has been filled with funerals or meetings, and helping around the Burrow to ease the load on his mum, who’s completely overwhelmed with grief. And if he’s not doing his part to ensure the household is running smoothly, he’s taking a shift with George, making sure he doesn’t do anything rash or stupid as he navigates a world without his twin.

Because of all that, he’s barely seen Hermione, let alone had a chance to sit down with her. Every time they cross paths at the Burrow, he feels like he’s not making enough of an effort to make her a priority, yet how can he when everything else is just as important right now? She always smiles and nods in understanding when he’s pulled here or there, but sometimes he wishes she’d speak up and be selfish, asking him to come with her for once instead.

“Yes, right now.”

Ron sighs, trying to prevent the eye roll that sneaks out anyway. “Can’t you ask—”

“No. Bill is with George, and this really needs to be addressed by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he groans, opening the door wide enough to welcome Percy inside his room.

He’s so busy ushering Percy inside that he doesn’t notice that there’s someone else already occupying the space—more specifically, his bed.

“Oh! Hi, um, sorry. I was just waiting for—do you need me to go?” Hermione’s brows knit with worry.

Ron could curse Percy all over again for needing him now—especially if he’s missing another opportunity to talk to Hermione. His brother stares at the girl he longs to be his girlfriend, contemplating her presence until he finally decides.

“No, actually, I’d like you to stay. I think that would be best.”

“Percy, what is going—”

The uptight redhead straightens his tie and clears his throat. “I have an appointment at the courthouse in Devon in thirty minutes, and I need someone to come with me.”

Ron’s not sure why, but he suddenly realizes that Percy’s dressed up—in Muggle garb.

“What did you do?” Hermione’s eyes widen as the question slips out of her mouth.

“I—nothing. I’m—er—getting married.”

“What?” He and Hermione both exclaim in tandem.

“But you’re not even seeing someone! Right?”

“I—I know it seems rash and maybe rushed, but it’s not. I’ve been seeing a—a Muggle for about two years now. Her name is Audrey, and I truly love her. She knows about me and our world. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, dating her amidst the war, but—now that things are, well, over, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Ron balks at him. “You’re seriously going to get married without the rest of the family knowing?”

“Er, no. They don’t. And that’s the thing. I do want to tell everyone…eventually, but Audrey and I had talked about eloping before things got really bad. We’ve been living in a Fidelius protected home and I had to be so careful not to get caught. Otherwise, I would have tried to make amends sooner too. But—Merlin forbid something were to happen again, I don’t want to miss my chance.”

Percy rarely gets flustered, but when he does, he is very much like Hermione. His train of thought tends to bounce all over the place and he doesn’t always make sense. Ron shakes his head.

“That still didn’t answer the question.”

“I am going to tell them. When the time is right. And we can have a reception or whatever else Mum wants to plan when she’s ready, but right now, I just need it to be me and her. We don’t want the fanfare.”

“So, why are you asking me to come with you?”

“Because we need a witness. Her best friend was supposed to come, but when I got the paperwork this morning to file the marriage license with the Ministry, we realized the witness needs to be magical for our end of things. Lara is still planning on attending, but…please, Ron?”

Ron stares at his brother, who looks at him with pleading, hopeful eyes before his gaze flits to Hermione. She nods gently.

“Fine. But I don’t have—”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you! Here.” Percy pulls his wand out and Accios something from the other room. It’s another muggle suit. “Hermione, you can come too, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to—”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, please, I’d like you there. It would make me feel a little better knowing that some of my family can be there.”

Ron’s heart constricts in his chest. Does Percy really consider Hermione family? Even though they aren’t even together?

“I—I’ll go look in Ginny’s room to see what I can find.” Her cheeks are rosy as she climbs off the bed and slips between them, exiting the room without so much as a backwards glance at either of them.

Percy looks back to Ron. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“It’s fine. You…didn’t.” 

Not technically, anyway.

“Er, right. Well, I do appreciate this. Truly. Thank you. I promise it won’t be long.” Percy glances down at his watch. “We need to leave in ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the garden and we can Side-Along?”

Ron nods. “Sure.”

As Percy disappears into the hall, shutting the door behind him, Ron has trouble wrapping his head around everything. 

Percy’s getting married. To a girl no other Weasley has ever met before—a muggle. And he and Hermione are the ones being asked to bear witness to it all.

* * *

The ceremony is just as Percy said it would be: brief, quiet, and intimate. For someone who always wanted all the pomp and circumstance of whatever position he held, this is uncharacteristically unassuming and private. And Ron can’t help but feel a little guilty upon seeing how the war—and the estrangement from his family—has changed Percy.

But when the justice of the peace asks them to say their vows, there’s a spark that comes to life in Percy’s eyes when he looks at Audrey, and even though Ron thinks his brother’s rushing things, it’s obvious they share something special. He doesn’t blame Percy for not wanting to wait anymore.

After all, hadn’t he said as much to Hermione in the Room of Requirement? ‘It’s now or never?’ Except it’s turned into ‘it was now, but then we had to wait a few weeks and he’s starting to think it might be never.’

Ron glances at his best friend, whose eyes are glassy with unshed tears as she watches Percy and Audrey share their promises with each other. He’s struck with an overwhelming feeling that he can’t quite place. Relief, maybe? Hope? Maybe it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have the word to describe it. Until it’s obvious.

Love.

It’s against all odds—the fact that they’re here. They made it. Even when one, or perhaps both, probably shouldn’t have. Ron’s been so caught up mourning the loss of everyone who gave their lives to protect their world that he’s forgotten why they died in the first place. Fred, Tonks, Remus…they wouldn’t want everyone to grieve them so much they can’t get on with their lives. What good would all that fighting have been for? 

Maybe Percy has the right idea, marrying Audrey. Perhaps this is part of his journey of healing and moving forward on his own, and eventually he’ll find a way to fuse his life with Audrey to the one he’s working to repair with his family. Ron wonders if he should follow in his brother’s footsteps, and find his way to happiness again.

As Percy and Audrey are pronounced man and wife, Ron knows exactly what he has to do. He offers a genuine smile as they share their first kiss, signs the documentation as their witness, and congratulates them.

“Thank you for being here,” Percy extends his gratitude again as they walk down the steps exiting the courthouse.

“No problem. Just, er, maybe don’t keep this from the rest of the family for too long. I think they could probably use something happy to latch onto.”

Percy’s mouth forms into a thin line as he nods curtly. “I’ll…try not to.” Then, he turns to his new bride. “We’re going to head back to our flat, unless you need help getting home?”

And there’s Pompous Percy, back to play.

Ron rolls his eyes. “I think we’ll manage.”

Percy and Audrey wander off down the road as Ron eyes the park nearby and nods to it. “Care for a walk?”

“Sure,” Hermione agrees.

They meander side by side, and all of the things Ron wants to say storm through to the front of his mind, but he can’t latch onto a single one long enough to start a conversation. After harboring his feelings for years, how is he supposed to finally tell Hermione how he feels?

Their fingers brush as they walk, and Ron brazenly slides his hand into hers the next time the sway of their arms sync up.

“That was unexpected,” Hermione offers.

“It was.”

“But also really sweet.”

“Yeah.”

Hermione slows her pace and turns toward him, forehead crinkled in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I—yeah—”

“I feel like we’ve barely seen each other, let alone spoken since—”

“I know.” The hand that isn’t still holding hers moves to slip around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but—I’ve wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

Us. The kiss. The locket. What happened at Malfoy’s. Shell Cottage. Everything that’s ever happened between us since the fucking Yule Ball and what it could possibly mean. All of it.

He supposes any of those could be a good starting point, but that’s not what slips out of his mouth. “I want what they have—Percy and Audrey.”

“Oh?” The singular syllable catches in her throat as she looks at him in surprise.

“With you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He’s not sure how, but Hermione manages to move her body closer to his. “Me too,” she breathes. “I’ve been hoping—”

But Ron doesn’t give her a chance to finish. Dropping her hand, he brings it to her face, tilting her chin up as his lips graze hers. It’s much more gentle, tentative even, than their first kiss, and he relishes every second of the leap they’re taking.

“I never thought…” she starts to say when they finally break apart, but the words drift off and she bites her lip instead. 

He knows exactly what she means though, even without saying it. “I know. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” she agrees.

“Reckon we probably shouldn’t jump to marriage right away though,” Ron jokes. It’s the first time he’s genuinely been able to since—well, before they broke into the Ministry.

The crack brings a smile to Hermione’s lips. Merlin, he’s missed making her smile. “No, probably not. But I don’t see a problem with dating.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, it’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Then, a wide grin spreads across his face and happiness bubbles up from his heart. “I finally get to call you my girlfriend.”

She nuzzles her head into his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He kisses the top of her head.

For now.

[splatfest3ever]

I think I should probably apologize for my reaction to GrandFest. I did not have a good time because of extenuating circumstances.

I was already fearful that Team Past would win because I saw so many twitch streamers and YouTubers promoting this theory that winning would result in potential lore of the Great Turf War. And that felt deceptive and misleading because it was based on NOTHING.

I don’t like it when people mislead large groups of fans into believing something because I’ve seen this happen time and time again and it ALWAYS ends in resentment and people bemoaning “wasted potential.”

So I was already going into the fest with trepidation.

Then I had to go to the ER on the first day.

I missed the entire first day of playing. And because I didn’t know you’d be able to re-visit Grand Fest after it was over I was getting stressed out over this fear of missing this huge event.

I spent the majority of Saturday recovering from my ER visit, where I was only able to play a handful of matches. And while I did manage to win a 100x and a 10x battle for Team Present, I was so distracted and out of it that I had a miserable time playing the other matches.

Then on the final day I had something come up unexpectedly and I missed my chance to play in the morning… and then to add insult to injury my internet cut out for the final hour. I barely had a chance to play 3 matches that day before it was all over.

And then it was a Team Past sweep.

Despite Team Present being the most popular team, Team Past just DOMINATED the entire event. Poor Team Future got NOTHING. I think seeing that Future got nothin made it feel even worse. Like it was rigged or that Twitch streamer/YouTuber talk about wanting more lore caused Team Past to just kick our asses.

It was just bad experience after bad experience piling on top of me. And it sucked because I loved the Grand Fest hub. It was AMAZING to have so many songs being performed each with their own dance choreography. To have the change of outfits at night. To see the event become even more spectacular. And then to see the calming aftermath.

I WANTED to enjoy this to the fullest. But because of dumb circumstances I wasn’t able to fully appreciate it or contribute much. And that left me bitter and angry and resentful.

I’ve gone back and deleted most of my initial reactions to Team Past winning and the end of Grand Fest. But I just felt like I needed to get this off my chest. I’m so sorry for being a buzzkill and being so rude to everyone after it ended.

I think I just needed some time to process it all. Being able to go back to Grand Fest whenever I want thanks to amiibo definitely helped. Like I said in another post, I really wish I had known that would be an option because it would’ve lessened the pressure I was putting myself under to enjoy this timed event. At least now I can take my time and roam around and just appreciate the magnitude of this event.

I’m still annoyed Team Past won, but it is what it is. I have faith in Nintendo and the Splatoon dev team to come up with something awesome one way or another.

[thecoolerliauditore]

I've only seen Scar's episode so far, but I dont think i liked this one. Like the food wild card was beatable, but the snails just feel anti-gameplay. And the deaths didn't feel impactful because there were so many and they weren't because of the other players. It feels like the worst aspects of limited life and secret life again. Maybe im too critical but im just kinda disappointed

wasn't gonna answer this one cus I felt like I'd already made one too many hater posts for an episode I really didn't hate all that much but the dash is also talking about this and. yeah.

i think "intrusive" is a good word to use.

In all fairness I do think the unbalanced-ness of it and it demolishing player agency the way it did weren't exactly purposeful. I hate making statements like I can read CC's minds but I do think it is saying something that the session ended as quickly as it did and in nearly all of the POVs I watched there was at least one person half-joking about ending the session early (or just straight up logging out) before it actually happened. Like I don't want to say the CCs were actively aware the mechanic had gone wrong but I do think it's saying something that Bdubs ended his episode chanting for the session to end lol.

In that sense I really think any criticism I or anyone else could have for the gameplay side of the mechanic is relatively useless. I think the CCs are fairly aware this one didn't exactly go as planned. Doesn't stop me from bitching about it on my blog tho.

As for the game-show-ification of the life series (which you didn't mention directly anon but I've seen this sentiment attached to posts about the mechanic a lot and "worst aspects of limited life and secret life" echoes it enough) I do agree However like I mentioned before I think we do have to keep in mind that Grian is making a youtube series first things first. And while I and alot of people are not the biggest fans of the BIGGER ! FLASHIER ! MINI-GAME-ER ! direction the series has taken that's more or less the logical way to go when it comes to youtube.

I love last life. I would love to see a last life 2. but I don't know if the 13 year olds this series is geared towards are looking forward to last life 2. (<-- plus I do think people overestimate a little bit just how entertaining watching the CCs play with the same mechanics again would be now that they have established dynamics and knowledge of how the mechanic works. If they just did the same ruleset over and over I guarantee you it would've gone in the more sweaty, powergamer-y direction than the silly haha funny snails direction which would've also felt alienating)

For what it is I'm still enjoying the series, so clearly they're doing something right. And I don't feel like I'm in a position where I can tell them to do their jobs. It's just that. sighs. I wish Gem was introduced in LL man I really wish she was.

[broken-clover]

End of My Line

It's fascinating how much brainrot this game instills upon me despite being so simple.

(Was hoping I'd have had this one done a lot sooner but) As I said with the previous fic, this one is an immediate follow-up to 'Safe Harbor' that picks right up from where it stopped. I wanted to give the first introduction in the Realm of the Fae a bit of a twist from canon

(Hopefully now that the plot heavy ones are dealt with for the time being I can make some silly ones, I still want to do something for Team 1 with Romeo's penchant for explosives)

Mild warning for injury, nothing graphic but don't want to surprise anyone

-

“Phoenix.”

Lumpy wood bit into his knees through the fabric. He could feel his toes going numb from the weight pressing down.

“Phoenix?”

Crying always felt wetter and heavier than it really was. A pair of tiny spots were tinged dark on the floor, and his face was damp, but it had felt like he had been crying out every drop of water he had inside of himself.

“Phoenix…”

He glared miserably through his blurry eyes. Though the abandoned charm was still in the same place across the room, it sounded as though the voice was speaking directly into his ears.

“Phoenix, you need to pick one.”

“No.” Any attempt at force in his tone came out watery.

“Phoe-”

“I don’t wanna.”

The voice sighed. “You have to. You can’t stay like this, you need to pick a job. You can’t go out there without some way to defend yourself.”

“Fine.” He sniffed. “I’m- I won’t do anything. I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t let you do that. It isn’t good for…”

Phoenix glared at the abandoned charm. “For your ‘divine credentials.’ Right. My friends might be dead, and you’ve got a reputation to worry about. I feel so sorry for you.”

It had the good sense to not reply. Phoenix looked at himself in the mirror again. Tear-soaked cotton stuck the collar of his robes to his neck. His face had gone red and blotchy. He looked pathetic. How had the others ever looked at him with anything but disappointment?

A hiccuping sniff escaped before he could stop it. ’Because you’re not always like this,’ his brain replied. ’You cry, but you don’t cry forever. Something has to happen after you’re done crying.’

If in the meager chance that he could find where they were and save them, it wouldn’t be accomplished by crying his heart out like this.

“...Fine. I’ll do it.”

“You will?” The voice came back a bit too quickly for Phoenix’s liking, but he bit his lip to keep himself from immediately changing his mind. “That’s wonderful!”

When he blinked, the room around him was melting away. In its place came a shining hollow, a dome without any doors or windows to be seen. The only thing to decorate it was a wheel of symbols floating overhead. Still in a heap on the ground, Phoenix watched them spiral down to his level.

“I wish I didn’t have to keep coming back here…” He sighed.

“So you’ll pick a job?”

“Yeah. Let me be a Scientist like I was before.”

He could hear how the voice immediately faltered. “Er- I…you remember what happened last time?”

“Then let me be a Cleric. I wasn’t that last time.”

The moments that ticked by left confusion and anger tangling for dominance in his head. Why wasn’t it saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.” It eventually replied. “I can’t do that. The Dark Lord has sealed that power away, it’s not something I can- “

Nothing to throw, nothing to slam. All he could think to do was let out the most pitiful shout he could. “Of COURSE you can’t! What kind of guardian are you?? You can’t protect my friends, you can’t even tell me where they are, and you make me start from scratch AGAIN??”

He reached out to the wheel of symbols without looking. Something rigid met his fingers, but as soon as they made contact, it evaporated with a chime. Warm magic rushed down his hand to envelop every inch of his body. The sparkling space around him faded away, once again dropping the man back into his little rented room.

Phoenix didn’t want to look at himself. It didn’t matter how childish the sentiment was. He refused to look. It didn’t even matter. Not looking only made him notice the new feeling of a different uniform. Some sort of stiff fabric, tailored but not form-fitting. Light. Practical. Button-down. Something tied around his waist…

No point in hiding away like a child anymore. His still-damp eyes cracked open to greet his reflection. The sight of that uniform, identical to Joe’s, almost had him breaking down in tears all over again. All that kept him tethered to some sense of sanity was the cold heaviness sitting in his palms. Of course, every job came with their own weapon. The cast iron was cumbersome in his hands, neither light as the scientist’s vials were nor lanky as the cleric’s had been. After a few awkward practice swings, he sighed, tying the tool to his belt and hoping it wouldn’t tear a hole in his clothes.

The journey out of the inn passed in a blur. Several items had probably been left behind, but he had Fluttershy by the reins, a weapon to defend himself, and clothes on his back, which was the bare minimum of necessity. The last few yards of desert swiftly morphed into strange, twisting greenery and sickly-sweet air. A new biome to traverse. The ‘Land of the Fae,’ as the innkeeper had said. He hadn’t paid too much attention. The miserable fog in his brain made it too difficult. All he could think to do was to trudge forward, to put one foot in front of the other, and maybe things would turn out okay.

Well, high hopes with that. Probably too high. It only sank in several miles down the road that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. His guts twisted around themselves as they cried for some sort of energy and nutrition to keep everything running smoothly. Phoenix tried to ignore it.

A tug came from the other side of the reins. When he looked to the source, the horse yanked again.

“Fluttershy? What’s wrong, girl?”

A third tug. She seemed to be pulling him in the direction of a nearby log on the ground.

“Is there something there?” Asked Phoenix. His eyes narrowed. “I’m not taking a break.”

She snorted and jerked back. Fluttershy must have heard his stomach growl and known to intervene. Smart horse. He hated that sometimes.

Reluctantly, Phoenix pulled over on the path and looked through his supply bag. He didn’t have much that was road-potable, just some mummy jerky and nuts. Better than nothing, he supposed. 

“A bit for you, and a bit for me,” the nuts were divided into two little piles, with one being offered to the horse. She shoved her muzzle into his palm and snatched up the food. He realized that left only one hand for himself. Well, no point in table manners if there was no table. He brought his hand to his lips and took a mouthful of nuts all at once.

His face scrunched. Okay, not the freshest nuts. Bit of a stale taste. Slightly crunchier than they probably should have been. When he bit down and grinded them under his back teeth, they made a strange, almost creaky sound.

The man swallowed, but the creaking noise persisted. He tilted his head to try and better catch the noise. Was it creaking? Crackling? Something snapping, unpleasant chittering? “Was that you, Fluttershy?”

The bushes behind him rustled furiously. Phoenix threw himself off of the log and halfway onto the path, trailing almonds and cashews from his loose fingers. A set of claws shot out of the leaves and snatched up several. Then another emerged. Then another. Then an arm attached to it, a reedy body, a bulbous head.

One by one, more emerged. A cluster of goblins- strange ones, with skin an odd opalescent color he hadn’t seen before. He wondered if the smell of food had attracted them. Phoenix cast the last few nuts in his hand to the ground, hoping that the monsters would care more about the food than him. No such luck, of course. They scuttled closer on all fours, stolen features on their faces leering.

“S-stay back…” Goblins should have been an easy task. His party had plowed through waves of the things without breaking a sweat, but that was exactly the problem. No party members. No Unstable Formula or Righteous Anger. He had been shoved into a brand-new job with the most basic protection and a weapon he had never used before in his life.

That fact made itself known painfully quickly. The cast iron was unwieldy in his inexperienced hands. One of the goblins lunged. Phoenix only barely parried the blow, stumbling backward from the weight of the swing. Within a few attempts at an attack, the pan was heavy enough that it slipped right out of his grip. The goblins leapt back as it landed, but they realized swiftly that their prey was now unarmed.

“Ah- !” His eyes zipped to his one traveling companion. There was no way this would end well if he tried to fight without a weapon. The best option was to make a break for it. If he needed the pan that damn badly, he could come back for it. “Fluttershy!”

His horse darted to his side in an instant. As his foot slid into one stirrup, a set of claws dug into his back. They snagged the material of his uniform before tearing right through and finding the meat of his back.

He didn’t remember falling. His back stung. One leg was still caught in the saddle, and Fluttershy dragged him along as she tried to escape the mob. A particular jerk made his foot twist in a direction that it definitely should not have gone in, if the sound it made and the pain that came from it were any indication. It also meant his leg was no longer in the stirrup, and his body tumbled to the dirt in a painful tangle.

“Get away from me!” He barked, kicking away a hand that grabbed his ankle. “Flutter- !”

Fluttershy reared back with an ear-piercing whinny. Her stomping hooves scared the monsters back for a moment, though they immediately swarmed again as soon as the opportunity presented itself. One of them managed to tangle its claws in her mane. She shrieked harder, louder, and suddenly tore off into a frantic gallop, shaking her head to try and knock her attacker loose.

In her haste, her rider was left behind. He extended a hand to her vanishing figure, pupils shrunk in terror. “Wait! No, come back!”

Several of the remaining goblins fell upon him, clawing and scratching and stomping any part they could reach as he tried to curl up on himself for protection. The chef’s uniform held up better than he expected it would for fabric, but the material still offered little defense, and he felt every blow as it came down on him.

The material at his side tore, and something rustled as it tumbled out from the shreds of his clothes. When Phoenix risked opening an eye to see, he found the goblins fighting over it. A final few nuts had still been in his pocket, now scattered on the ground.

He wished he could find it funny.

Once the food was gone, the goblins skittered back into the brush. Phoenix couldn’t keep himself from feeling a little insulted. He hadn’t been their target. Just an obstacle to food. Hadn’t even had the manners to finish him off, just left the unwanted scraps behind.

“I feel bad for making fun of other-Phoenix.” He chuckled miserably, clutching one of the many sore spots on his side. “Those damn goblins can hit pretty hard.”

Probably not lethal by any stretch, but enough that he couldn’t imagine scraping himself off the ground and limping into town. The pain in his twisted ankle pulsed along with his heartbeat and made it perfectly clear it wouldn’t tolerate having any weight put on it. As it was, he was nothing but a sitting duck dumped by the side of the road. If the goblins came back after all- heck, if any monster showed up- he wouldn’t be able to do anything but let himself get attacked again. 

He closed his eyes and hoped that the end would come swiftly.

…

…

…

“Young sir, might I ask, what in heaven’s name are you doing on the ground like that?”

He didn’t remember falling asleep. It was easy to remember waking up, however, because as soon as he started to rouse, the various cuts and bruises started to make themselves known again. Phoenix almost resented whoever was currently prodding his shoulder just for making him aware of what rough shape he was in right now.

At least it wasn’t another attack. That much by itself made him wonder if he’d imagined the sound. The voice didn’t sound like one he knew. The glasses had been knocked off of his face at some point before, so the best he could do was tug aside his bangs and try to squint through blurry eyes.

At such close range, he could make out the voice’s owner well enough. An unfamiliar face was crouched by his side, amber eyes brimming with concern and confusion. A strange-looking man with wild, dark hair and a peculiar scar that cut an X across the bridge of his nose.

[monsterrae1]

Hello lovely Rae! 💖 for the hesitant love prompts: "what can I get you? do you need water? a hug? space?" Pretty pls 💕

Ryan, Baby, I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer this! Things have been, well, they've been better. Hope you like this!

_

Eddie Diaz had been shot more times than anyone should’ve been in one lifetime, he had been to war, he had been buried alive under 40ft of mud, he had nearly drowned while getting himself out of said 40ft of mud, he had survived so many near death experiences, but the tuesday night his appendix decided to burst? Eddie thought for sure he was going to die. 

It really came out of nowhere, he hadn’t been feeling bad at all, no fevers, no nausea, no abdominal pain, he had been completely fine one moment, helping out their vic into the ambulance and calming the nerves of the partner who had never seen a broken leg before, and the next thing he knew he was doubling over in pain, throwing up into the asphalt, his insides feeling like they were tearing open. 

If he didn’t know better he’d think that he had been shot again. 

Bobby and Chim were by his side in an instant asking him what was wrong, and if anything had happen, Eddie could only shake his head, but as soon as they tried to move him, he was hit with another wave of excruciating pain and dropped to the floor, curling into himself. That’s when he felt a couple of big hands cradle his head and brush their fingers over his cheeks.

“Eddie? Eddie, what's wrong?” Buck asked him, and Eddie made an effort to open his eyes again. 

“Hurts, stomach, i don’t know” He grumbled, wishing it would just stop. 

Bobby must’ve called for a second rig because next thing Eddie knew he was being rolled into a gurney and transported to the ER, 

“What the hell is wrong with him, chim?” Buck asked from next to him, Eddie was holding into his hand tight enough that he might’ve done some damage. 

“My best guess? Appendicitis?” 

The last thought of Eddie’s head was, oh fuck, before pain made him pass out. 

Next time he opened his eyes he was staring at the hospital’s room ceiling, he tried to move but he felt the very distinct pull of stitches in his abdomen.

“Ugh” He tried to say, but his throat was too dry.

“We’ll be home soon, ok, bud? Be good for Carla” Eddie turned his head following the sound of Buck’s voice, he had his back to Eddie, and was still wearing his uniform, he had his phone on his ear, and nodding along to whatever Chris was saying on the other side “I will bud, I’ll let you know when the doctor tells me anything, okay?”

“Buck?” Eddie tried again, this time managing to make more noise and startling Buck and making him turn around “What happen?” 

“Hey” He said softly “How are you feeling?” 

Eddie frowned, making a mental check of himself, his thoughts were too fuzzy for him to make a proper check, but he didn’t feel like his stomach was being torn open so he figured that was good.

“Alive?”  He ended up saying, making Buck laugh. 

“Yeah, gave us quite the scare there buddy” 

Eddie smiled at him “Sorry, when can we go home?” 

“Tomorrow maybe” 

Eddie hummed and closed his eyes “Chris waiting for you?” 

“Yeah, I’m picking up dinner from that Italian place you pretend you don’t like? Sorry you’re gonna miss out” 

“Mean” 

Buck was still laughing when Eddie fell back asleep. 

He ended up staying at the hospital for 2 days, it wasn’t by far his longest stay at the hospital but towards the second day he was already climbing the walls, he was fine, he was ready to go after the first 24 hours, but because his incision was slightly red and swollen. He was fine, the doctors were just annoying. 

“C’mon” Buck said, guiding Eddie into the house, he would’ve complained that he didn’t need the help, but the truth was that he kinda did. It was too early for him to be heading to bed, so he asked Buck to set him up on the sofa where he could watch Buck tinker around the kitchen or play video games if he got bored. 

“You’re all set up” Buck said once Eddie was laying down on the sofa, his back being supported with what seemed like every pillow in the house, “I’m gonna get you a snack in a second, what else can I get you? Do you need water? A hug? Space?” 

Eddie stared at him for a second “You know what, a hug would be nice” 

Buck chuckled, helping Eddie sit up and wrapped him in his arms, Eddie rested his head on Buck’s shoulder and breathed him in. 

“Thank you Buck, for everything you do for us” 

Buck hummed “You I love it, I love helping you guys out” 

Eddie hugged him tighter for a minute, promising himself that once he was better, he was going to tell Buck just how much he meant to him.

[jacqcrisis]

Since it's my birthday could I possibly request a silly rambling about Caleb having to cancel dinner with his mom and not tell her it's because he's at the hospital. Again.

Yes! But mostly because I've had an idea I'd probably never write in my drafts that would prelude this. Gunna put most of it under a readmore as it's long and a little saucy.

Caleb's got a busy day ahead of him, with lunch with his ma and an evening shift after that so, in order to get a workout in, he decides to go to the gym first thing when he wakes up. Thing is, when he gets there, the showers are closed due to maintenance. That's not great, but he supposes he'll cut the workout short and run back home to wash up before lunch.

Not that he wants to go to lunch. His ma is probably going to have pamphlets and numbers for matchmakers and single women his age she knows. It's going to be an hour or two of guilt-tripping and pressure that he doesn't really want right now, but it's better to go than her try to show up at an apartment he doesn't live at anymore, so he best be on time.

Well, after his workout, a new problem arises when he gets back to the apartment. One he thought would still be sleeping considering its like...half past noon, so himbos don't expect to be ambushed as they put their keys on the table and their bag on the floor. Caleb squawks as a shockingly awake and already rumbling Zeke wraps his arms around him from behind.

He's got his toothy face jammed into Caleb's neck and his hands already under his clothes as Caleb's brain finally works out what's happening. Caleb puts up a mild protest, mostly telling Zeke to wait or at least, follow him into the shower, while not really putting much effort in trying to get hands out of his gym shorts or a mouth from sucking hickeys into his throat. Zeke's not having it, and Caleb's lukewarm attempts to wriggle free are nowhere to be seen when he's picked up and becomes intimately familiar with the wall against his back.

Not that Caleb would stop Zeke at this point as he's been trying to get the changeling to let loose a little and just go to town on him. Who knew all it would take was a workout and a missed shower to have Zeke manhandling him and trying to eat him like a peach? All thought of lunches later in the afternoon are absolutely out the window as are any worry about what a keyed up, aggressive Zeke might do when he moves their operation to the bedroom by carrying Caleb there.

Obviously, Zeke ends up gnawing the shit out his shoulder again, shocking literally no one. And it's bad enough that Caleb can't risk not going to the ER...again so when Zeke stops gagging, they clean up a little so they don't walk in looking too much like a crime scene. During that, as Zeke is assessing the damage frantically, Caleb's phone goes off with his ma on the other end doubling checking the resturant choice for today.

Caleb fumbles his way through a lie about how he can't go to lunch, he's really sorry, but he's...sick? His ma tells him that she's going to be in town anyways and she has some things to give him so she'll just stop by his place and- Caleb scrambles to cut her off, tells her they can reschedule or something, like it's fine, don't drop by, he's like super duper gross right now.

There's some back and forth, again while Zeke is wiping blood and drool and semen off him, where Caleb comes out on top by saying how she, his mother, would prefer to go through whatever she has for him in person. She irrately agrees, and she ends the call by telling him that he sounds a lot like his father. Caleb kind of shrugs it off but Zeke immediately starts apologizing again since he not only ruined lunch but Caleb will probably have to call off work tonight as well.

Caleb stops him, surprisingly happy with this outcome and assuring Zeke for the millionth time he's exactly the opposite of mad and he wishes Zeke was like that more just without the hospital part after. They go to the ER, and that sucks but it's a better time than lunch with his ma and Caleb gets a night off to play Call of Duty. Zeke also coddles him when he get off work later so it's wins all around for Caleb.

[skatetragedy]

3/12/22

lately therapy has been pretty intense, i feel like i’ve had a couple therapists before that mostly only touched on surface level trauma. my new therapist is pretty intense, shes very sweet but sometimes i genuinely feel like my brain can’t process whats happening because it’s not use to digging as deep as she wants me to. It’s a bit humbling, hearing her consensus on why i act the way i act, its very vulnerable and embarrassing. i want to be better tho, i want my brain to get as deep as it can so i can be the healthy. in other news updates on some relationships :

athena and i have been talking more, and i think its good. nick really clouded me on many relationships because i was just too embarrassed to admit and talk about it to some friends that knew the extent of how he treated me and how we worked together. i missed her and i dont want a man to make me feel like i cant talk to my friends ever again. shes still with kayla, which is good i believe shes very calm and collected with her and i think shes been needing stability like this for a while. 

ive seen nathalie a couple times recently, shes been talking to ali again which is disappointing but as ive said, i know how it feels. nathalie and i are always good, theres really nothing that will keep us apart or anything like that. we locked in forever nothing to really say about it. 

sal and i are good as well. I do feel a bit of sadness when i think of putting sal thru what i put him thru with nick. i feel embarrassed and like a bad friend, but i dont understand why i couldnt help it. i wouldnt talk to him about it because i didnt want to put him in the position of listening to how his friend is with me and vice versa. eve though nick would never stop complaining but it was two sided when it came to complaints. i would just never say anything. i feel guilty and i dont know how to express it or make up for it. ill try my best. 

nick and i havent spoken. he texted me to wish me well with therapy/work/school and i didnt respond at the moment. i called him one night to express i couldnt/didnt want to be friends with him. i dont think its okay to be friends with an ex let alone one that got you pregnant. he told me i could get over the pregnancy but its just not that easy, i was in n out of the ER, received chemo therapy, and had to be locked in my room for two weeks. it was mentally and physically taxing. he really has no emotion or regard to how i could feel, and i dont understand why i hadnt realized that sooner. i hope he gets the help he needs and that things go well for him, with me excluded from his life. he asked why we couldnt be friends and i gave him a list of reasons, he gave me solutions, then i said i had been seeing someone new and im trying to go my seperate ways, he said “oh so you only called to tell me youre seeing someone new i dont want to hear that” why ask for reasons, give solutions and only fixate on one reason you dont like. i hope he matures, he cant stay alone for very long and his toxic cycle he learned from katie will just continue.

i have a new friend, named mark. hes very attractive, funny, and sweet. we only recently started becoming a bit romantically involved. i had liked him from a distance when i first met him and i didnt understand why. i was talking to n*ck at the time and he was all rocky over the fact sal andi had become friends again and we were hanging out regularly. i believe i met mark on halloween, with a group of others with us. we didnt talk much, i just offered him poppers and he thanked me. end of story for halloween. i pursued him, embarrassingly enough not much came of it, until recently as im used to men being horny and ready to fuck whenever i say hello. i guess thats nice though, we went on a first date to a couple different bars and i had a great time, many embarrassing things happened around him and hes still stuck it through so im hoping that means something good. our first date was refreshing for me, he was gentleman and very fun to be around. aesthetically we are very different people, but mentally very in sync with anything we say or want to do, which was a little scary at first. i do like him, he stayed the night yesterday for the first time and i havent felt someone that comfortable and happy around someone for a long time. we spent all morning giggling and being silly in bed and i dont remember the last time i did that with someone without having sex. its refreshing that everything isnt about having sex at the moment, that he could possibly be around me because he likes who i am. i hope that doesnt change.  

[subsiist]

She closes in on herself and he resists the urge to sigh. This is nothing new - he's been handling Katniss every day for six months now and even more so in the past month since he'd moved in. She's so easily hot and cold, even with him. Maybe especially with him. He keeps his mouth shut, though, because the only thing he can think to say is that he wishes he could've seen it. She'd hate him for it - hate him for wanting to hear her sending that little girl off with her pretty voice that made the birds go quiet.

But it's something he's never seen before, can only visualize in his mind. The Capitol had cut most of Rue's death from the recaps Peeta had witnessed - and even live they'd cut away to the others as fast as they could, only catching glimpses of what Katniss had done. After all, it was during Rue's flowerbed that Cato killed Ryam for letting their food explode.

She won't touch him anymore, but she also doesn't walk away. She sticks by his side to have this conversation, no matter how hard it is. Peeta's lips turn up at the petulance of her remark. "I think makin' ya angry is the opposite of coddlin'," he says with a bit of irony to his tone. But what he really thinks is... then stop needing it. They both have a part to play here, after all.

And then she's holding him again, but it's different now. He'd ruined the ease of before - the way they'd fallen into comfort within one another's arms. He does sigh this time before plastering a smile on his face, letting his lips touch Katniss', letting people greet them in that faux-loving way only the Capitol knows how. "Give 'er my best," he says softly to Katniss as she mentions calling her sister and, just because he can't end it like this, he leans down to kiss her cheek once more, squeezing her waist. He hopes it's enough for her to understand the words he can't say right now.

With a final smile, he turns away to find Haymitch as instructed. Only, like every moment with Katniss in his life, he looks back to catch a final glimpse before the crowd envelopes her.

FIN.

she knows. he's treating her like a child again, and that makes her want to act like a child, so katniss removes her hands from him, takes a step back, and crosses her arms. "yes. and the singing." the official cut from the 74th hunger games must have been an herculean job for whoever put that together: not only did they have to scrape to show her as some maiden in love during the first hour, they also had to cut much of the conversations she's had with rue, and, of course, they couldn't have her singing and burying a child in flowers — there was only a minute or so of that, just to show how good she is. everything else, if you didn't watch the live feed, then you'd miss it so peeta, of course, had missed it again. a part of her would rather the video had been forgotten and deleted altogether, but it obviously hasn't, and they saw fit to use it now, to pin her as somewhat different from everyone else, like she hadn't killed three people in those games, too. like she isn't just as scared and beholden to the capitol like her own tributes.

when he nears her, her resolve wilters a little. with haymitch, she had wanted to scratch his face off, but with peeta, she wants him to just hold her again, but he's saying the same haymitch did, only in that kind way of his, so she continues to glower. "but i am bothered, peeta. stop coddlin' me." she wants to stomp, give him the child he seems to think she is. but instead, she takes a hold of his arm again, and begins to guide them away from the corner she's snuck them to. the scowl is replaced by a smile as they begin to see people, and they all greet them excitedly, as if nothing had happened because nothing will ever change. this is her life now and she just has to come to terms with it, no matter how hard it is.

at the edge of one of the fullest rooms, she presses her lips on his again, again an excuse to whisper. "go find haymitch. he was tryin' to pretend he wasn't goin' crazy 'cus you were gone." she lets go of his arm then, and avoids his eyes as she continues, just before turning on her heel. "i'm going to find effie to call prim before she's asleep." and with that she walks away, not feeling one bit better. if peeta has failed, then prim has to do.

[tealeafgrimm]

How It Could Have Been

Remus Lupin x Reader Words: 1.6k Summary: After you broke up, you never saw Remus again. But at Lily and James' wedding, you can no longer avoid each other.

You weren't really a big fan of weddings. The ones you've been invited to so far

had always been terribly boring. Lots of old ladies gossiping about the bride behind her back while their husbands stared unabashedly. The younger men had always been quick to get drunk and their cackling girlfriends pushed each other out of the way to catch the bridal bouquet.

But you had to admit, James and Lily's wedding was beautiful. They had kept the circle as small as possible, which was more or less successful given the Potters' notoriety. Lily's wedding dress was stunning and you had to admit that even James didn't look half bad. You had never seen him in a suit before.

And although you had been thrilled by the wedding, you dreaded the reception afterwards. You knew that sooner or later you would run into him. And then you were forced to talk to him. You had already seen him out of the corner of your eye. He had been sitting in the front row. Next to Sirius and Peter.

The fact that you showed up at all had cost you a lot of effort. But Lily was your best friend and you couldn't just NOT show up to her wedding. It wasn't right. But now, as the wedding party dispersed around the hall to make way for the bride and groom for the opening dance, you wondered if it had been the right decision.

You had lost sight of him. Admittedly, you tried not to focus too much on him. Your eyes were fixed on Lily. If you saw him, it would all be over.

The music started and as if they had never done anything else, Lily and James began to dance an elegant waltz.

"I would have thought he would have stepped on her foot at the first step," a voice behind you murmured in your ear. Startled, you flinched before stopping as if frozen. That was the very voice you had been afraid of. You were not ready to look him in the eye, but what other option did you have? You could hardly run away from him.

With a deep breath, you turned to him. He looked good. Blimey! Probably James or Sirius had paid for his suit, because you were pretty sure it was tailor-made. And he definitely couldn't afford that.

"Remus. Well, he's pureblood. Don't they get taught to dance before they can walk?"

He laughed and then looked at you as if he had just really noticed you for the first time. You wished he wouldn't look at you like that. An awkward silence hung between the two of you before he cleared his throat and took his gaze from you.

" Er...you... er... you're looking good. Long time no see," he finally began. You wanted to roll your eyes. Remus had never been very good at small talk.

"Thanks. You...look good too. That suit looks good on you."

The whole situation felt so strange. The last time you had spoken had ended with you fleeing in tears.

Remus had been your first and, until now, only great love. After you broke up, you thought you would never be able or willing to talk to him again.

~~~

"What do you mean you're not coming? We've been planning this evening for weeks," you asked Remus as you were already on your way out of your flat. A few weeks ago, you had managed to snag tickets to a cover band that Remus and you had been following for a few years.

"They're your tickets. You bought them..." your boyfriend began. With an annoyed look, you glanced at him.

"Remus, please. Yes, I bought the tickets, but as I've told you several times, I get to decide who I want to give the second ticket to. And you're my boyfriend and, to be honest, the only person who shares my taste in music, so please, just put on a jacket and your shoes and come. We're already late!"

But Remus made no move.

"Why are you here?" he finally asked after a short pause in which neither of you said anything.

"Excuse me? What do you mean...I'm waiting for you."

"I mean, why are you here with me?"

"Remus, please not again." You dropped your bag on the couch. You definitely wouldn't be able to make your concert today. You knew where this conversation was going.

"Remus," you began, your tone clearly weary. You couldn't tell how many times you'd had moments like this recently. Remus had always been pessimistic when it came to your relationship. In the beginning, you had been understanding. Remus was not in an easy position, but you had hoped that you could make him understand that you didn't care what he was or how much he earned.

But over the years his attitude had not changed.

"You should enjoy your life. With someone who can offer you more than I can."

"Remus. I am enjoying my life...with you. At least I would if you would just get up and get ready so we can get to the concert." But Remus didn't budge.

"I'm no good for you."

"I think I can decide for myself what is good for me and what isn't." You were getting angry. You couldn't stand it when he told you how to feel and what to think.

"Y/N, do you really think this has a future? We have a future?"

That sentence stabbed you like a cold knife in the heart. You knew where his words were going and you definitely didn't want to hear them.

"Remus, please..." Tears filled your eyes and you struggled to hold them back.

"I think it's better if we go our separate ways. I have nothing to offer you, I'm holding you back."

"But only because you tell yourself that. I love you, get that through your head."

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

You didn't know what to say, what to do. Your heart and stomach kept contracting painfully. You felt like you were going to throw up, to scream. You had to get out of here.

"If that's what you think, then I'm sorry Remus," you whispered and left the flat with one last look.

~~~

That was the last time you saw Remus.

You had gone back to the flat you shared with Lily to get your things. Even though you knew that Remus could not afford the flat financially, you could not and did not want to continue living there alone. Too many memories connected you to that place.

Lily had assured you that James would make sure Remus had a roof over his head. Even if you didn't want to see him, you still wanted to know that he would be alright.

Even though you tried not to think about him too much, you had to admit to yourself that you had never really closed that chapter of your life. Remus was your first great love. And losing him was the hardest thing of your life.

You had always looked longingly at Lily and James. They had had a difficult start to their relationship, but now you couldn't imagine one without the other.

You wanted a relationship like they had for yourself.

They were still dancing across the parquet. Gradually, a few people from the wedding party joined in.

You weren't a gifted dancer, but the awkward silence between you and Remus had you praying that someone would ask you to dance.

"Have you ever wondered how it could have been?" Again, you startled out of your thoughts.

Remus looked at you with a sad smile.

"Could have been what?" you asked him, confused.

"Us. If I hadn't been such an idiot, do you think we'd still be together? Do you think we could have had a moment like that?" he asked you, inclining the dancing couple.

"I...I...yes," you finally admitted. Yes you believed that you would still be together. You believed that it could well have been your wedding. You had always seen this future. You knew that Remus had been struggling with his own personal demons and had lacked that foresight.

"That night you left... I wanted to go after you. I wanted you to come back. But I couldn't." You tried to ignore the lump in your throat. You didn't want to cry. You couldn't cry. For years you had tried to convince yourself that you were over your relationship.

"Why not?" Your voice betrayed you.

"Because I firmly believed it was the best thing for both of us. I thought you could be happier without me. And I thought I'd feel better if I didn't feel like I was holding you back."

"So, did you feel better?" With tears in your eyes, you looked at his face. It reflected the same pain.

"No. You were the only person in my life who fully understood how I felt. The boys tried, but they had their own problems. I was an idiot to let you go. I realised that. But it wouldn't have been fair to chase after you and rip you out of your life when I was the one who had caused that breakup in the first place."

"I've always loved you Remus. I never wanted this break up, I hope you know that. If I could reverse time and help you see what an amazing man you are, I would do anything. But you have to fight your inner demons yourself," you answer him quietly.

The dance floor was now so crowded that you couldn't make out any individual couples, just a large dancing crowd.

"Do you want to dance?" asked Remus finally.

When you looked at him, he smiled at you. Involuntarily, you had to smile too. The knot in your stomach had loosened and a familiar feeling of butterflies spread.

You felt as if you had returned your school days and Remus had invited you to the Yule Ball.

"I'd love to."

Perhaps you could learn from your past mistakes and look to the future together, more confidently.

[phoebe-delia]

Hi ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡) ۶

For the Hanukkah prompts I'd like to suggest:

Discovering muggle music ☆

Hope you like it and all the best wishes

Night 6: Replay

Hi sweet anon! Thanks for the prompt. I love this idea! My instinct/first thought was to go with Taylor Swift. But I decided to do this instead because it feels much more true to their time and I wanted them to experience this music together. I hope you enjoy, and best wishes to you too!

Draco found it when he was cleaning out the attic. It was sitting in an old wooden chest in the back. It was a short, but heavy rectangular device with a large circular platform and a thin stick attached.

"Harry?" Draco called, frowning at the...thing in his hands.

He heard footsteps before Harry stuck his head into the room. "Yes, love? Everything alright?"

"Yes, but what's this?" Draco gestured to the object.

Harry's eyes fell on it and then widened. "Oh," he said. "Right."

"What is it?"

"That's a record player," Harry explained, coming closer to look at it with Draco. "It's a Muggle device. It was Sirius's."

"What does it do?"

"It, er. Plays records. You know? Like a vinyl record?"

Draco shook his head, and Harry smiled. "Let me show you," he said, stepping past Draco to look through a pile Draco hadn't gotten to yet. Harry frowned in concentration, flipping through a stack of some square, thin things Draco hadn't ever seen before.

"Got it!" Harry grinned, pulling out one item in the stack. Draco's eyebrows went up at the image of four men with long hair, their faces shadowed.

Harry walked back over, reached into what Draco now saw was a flap, and pulled out something circular, thin, stark-black. "This is called a record," Harry explained. "When I put it on the player and set it up properly, it'll play music."

"Oh," Draco said with awe, watching as Harry carefully put the record onto the player, turned the device on, and lifted the stick to settle it onto the record. "What are you going to play?"

Harry grinned. "You'll see. Just listen."

Draco fixed his eyes on the record player as the speakers flared to life with the first sounds of the song.

'Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.'

Harry suddenly made a fist and brought it under his mouth like a microphone, mouthing the words. 'I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because I'm easy come, easy go. Little high, little low.'

Draco watched in amusement as Harry spun around and continued his silent song. 'Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me. To me.'

Something in Draco's chest tightened. "Harry," he whispered. "What is this?"

"Shh," Harry whispered back. "I'll stop dancing. You just listen."

By the time the song ended, Draco had tears in his eyes, and he saw the same when he looked at Harry.

"What do you think?" Harry asked, his voice soft.

Draco let out a long breath. "That was...Play it again."

They spent hours in the attic, foregoing cleaning up for the rest of the night. They danced around and sang the lyrics at the top of their lungs, with Draco asking Harry to play the song over and over again, which Harry was only too willing to oblige. Draco stumbled over the words at first, but by the end of the night, he was matching Harry word for word and note for note.

When they were finally out of breath, and Draco had a near-pounding headache, they both flopped onto the ground, limbs spread out like starfish.

Harry reached over and laced their fingers together. "Tomorrow," he said, "I'll play you ABBA."

Read the other Hanukkah fics so far here.

[winchestershiresauce]

High on You

Summary: Smoking weed to relax after a rough day becomes a whole lot more when Daryl joins you.

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

3455 words

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, drug use (weed), almost public sex, fluff, mentions of the bible

A/N: Special thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams​ for suggestions/edits. This turned out way softer than I originally intended, but I love it. I hope you enjoy!

--

After the long day you’d had, all you wanted to do was decompress. You’d tried reading, you’d tried sleeping, but you realized you needed something just a little bit stronger. So, with a plan in place, you grabbed your trusty bible and snuck down the stairs. You had to admit, you felt a bit like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night to get up to trouble, despite the fact that you were a grown woman and the world as you’d known it had ended. 

You silently crept out the front door into the night, slowly pulling it closed behind you. It was about two in the morning as you tip-toed across the porch and sat down on the steps of the Alexandrian house you shared with other members of your group of survivors. Setting your leather-bound bible in your lap, you opened it and flipped through the well-loved pages to get to the good stuff inside, but froze when you heard a plank of the porch floor creak from around the corner. You turned around to see Daryl approaching, his crossbow in one hand. 

"Can't sleep?" he grunted in your direction, and you subtly closed the worn cover to your Bible as he sat on the step next to you. 

"Nah, not after today. You?" you replied, and he merely gave a little shrug. 

"Didn't know you was religious." He nodded toward the book in your lap, and you smiled sheepishly. 

"I'm, uh, not, actually." He raised his eyebrow at you, expecting you to elaborate or explain, so you opened the Bible and showed him the contents, chewing your lip. About an inch from the edges, the middle of the pages was cut out. In the space that remained was a baggie of weed, a lighter, and pieces of blank pages that had been cut out and trimmed to size for use as rolling papers. Daryl's eyes moved from you to the illicit stash, and he couldn't help but laugh. 

"Yer kidding," he chuckled. You loved the sound of a genuine laugh spilling from his lips: something you didn't hear nearly often enough. 

You shook your head and shrugged, "Not at all. The pages are the perfect thickness to roll joints with." 

"Yeah, guess I just didn't peg ya for a druggie." You feigned offense, pretending to clutch your pearls, but found yourself laughing as well. 

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dixon, but it's the end of the world. Hell if I'm gonna pretend I don't like pot because of the social stigma anymore." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the conversation was happening, and began fiddling with the crossbow in his lap that you weren't sure you'd ever seen him without. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you got to work rolling a nice little joint for yourself and he went back to whatever it was that he was doing with his bolts. When you licked the paper to try to seal it closed, you glanced over to see that Daryl had been watching you. 

"Yer not doin' it right. That's gonna fall apart before ya can even smoke it," he critiqued, watching as you frustratedly attempted to turn the twist of weed and paper in your hand into something smokeable. 

"I know! I'm just tired and don't wanna waste the paper so I'm trying to fix it!" you retorted. 

"Give it 'ere." He reached his open hand out to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

"Fine. If you think you can do better, have at it." You felt a little irritated - you knew how to roll a joint, dammit - but placed what was definitely one of the saddest-looking joints you'd ever seen into his outstretched palm. He carefully unrolled it and adjusted the pile of dried cannabis to better resemble the innards of a cigarette. You watched intently, unsure which you were enjoying more: the way he expertly turned your sad mess into a work of art by comparison, or the way the muscles in his forearms tensed and rippled as he worked his large callused fingers at such a delicate task. When he raised the joint to his mouth and licked the paper to form the closest thing to a seal he could get without adhesive, you couldn’t help the quiet reactive groan that escaped from your throat. 

“What?” he asked as he continued to lick the paper to finish rolling the joint. You weren’t sure you wanted to answer, as it wasn’t exactly dignified the way that you were eyeballing him, but you did anyway.

“It’s just,” you started and bit your lip a little. “It’s hot when you do shit like that.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous.

You let out a small laugh, you couldn’t believe you were about to say this, “You’re so good with your hands and, I don’t know, the way you licked that just did things to me.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like you didn't just admit to ogling him. He didn’t even reply, just stared at you for a moment. His eyes narrowed a bit and you were pretty sure he thought you were fucking with him. He handed the now nicely-rolled joint to you and you took it, pleased. 

In silence, you held the blessed joint between your lips and lit it. Taking a long drag, you inhaled fresh air to push the smoke deeper into your lungs and offered the joint to Daryl. With a slight nod, he took it from you and took a hit himself. You leaned back, blowing the smoke up toward the black night sky, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was just what you’d needed. For a few minutes, you and Daryl passed the joint between the two of you without speaking. You both reveled in the way the smoke danced into your lungs and escaped from your lips, letting the quiet night and the drugs do their best to calm you.

“Why do ya say shit like that?” Daryl eventually asked. You had just taken a large hit, savoring the feeling as you watched the joint dwindle to almost nothing, and you turned to look at him. He stared off straight ahead, looking utterly entranced with the neighbor’s flower garden.

“Shit like what?” you questioned, letting him have the last hit or two left. You raised your eyebrow at him, confused, since you hadn’t said anything in a while.

“How it’s hot when I do somethin'.” He shrugged vaguely and murmured some sort of noise that sounded close to “I dunno.” He tilted his head slightly and looked at you cautiously. “What ya said before…” You leaned your head back in realization: he really didn’t believe you when you told him he was fucking attractive. 

“Because it’s true.”

“Nah.” 

“Whatever you say, Dixon. You don’t have to believe me.” You smiled over at him and he let out a noncommittal grunt. You redirected the conversation to something a little lighter, but found things naturally meandering back to a similar topic after only a short while.  

"So, how come ya couldn't sleep?" he asked, daring a glance into your eyes. 

"Honestly?" you responded, and he nodded. "Well, I needed to decompress after the run today, so I was reading this book and, uh…" You pressed your lips together and decided you were about to share a little too much information. 

"And what?" His question was genuine and you weren't sure if he could even pick up on your embarrassment. 

"Promise not to laugh?" He regarded you for a moment, but nodded. "Well, I was reading a romance novel," you paused to see if he'd break his promise and laugh, continuing when he didn't, "and it got me a little wound up and made me realize how much I miss sex. You know?" Daryl stared, a little wide-eyed and very unsure of how to respond. 

"A book made ya so horny ya couldn't fall asleep?" There was a slight laugh in his voice and you recognized that little twinkle in his eye when he lightly teased you. 

"Not exactly, Daryl." You gave him a pointed look. "It just made me think about how long it's been and maybe I kinda miss it. Don't you?" He shrugged. "I guess I just wish some things were easier in the apocalypse. I really wanna be fucked good and hard until I'm begging for mercy." You exhaled forcefully, something between a laugh and a sigh. 

"Why don't ya just ask somebody? I'm sure anybody here would help ya." You were honestly a bit surprised at the lack of reaction from him. Very personal conversations weren’t usually his forte, but the weed seemed to have mellowed him out a bit and he didn’t even blush.

"I don't know. That's not quite what I want, I guess. Tara and I fooled around some a while ago but it didn't feel right. I wanna feel something, and the only person I feel something for doesn't seem interested."

"Then they're an idiot." You tried your best to hide the smile that threatened to blossom on your face at his response. He was so genuine, and so sure. It was too bad he had no idea you were talking about him.

"Oh, so are you saying you'd be interested?" The relaxation from the weed had you feeling bolder than usual. You couldn't believe you'd asked, but there was no turning back. 

"Not sayin' I'd not be." You could see the pink flush up his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, and it made you feel warm. 

"I see," you replied, biting back a grin. The two of you, again, sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments and you scooted closer to him. You set your hand on his where he'd had it resting on his thigh since he'd set aside his crossbow in favor of the weed. You slipped your fingers between his and you could feel the roughness of his pants beneath your fingertips. He looked up at you, uncertain, but didn't say anything. "This okay?" you asked. Again, he just nodded. He didn't want to risk his voice in case it gave away how nervous he was feeling. The quiet night enveloped you again, but it didn't bother you. You finally felt relaxed and maybe even a bit safe there with Daryl's hand in yours.

Daryl flipped over his hand under yours so you were palm-to-palm and he could wrap his fingers around yours. "Hey, Y/N?" he asked, and you looked up into his eyes. 

"Hmm?" you hummed in reply. 

"Can I kiss ya?" There was no holding back your grin anymore as the embodiment of strength, masculinity, and independence looked to you for an answer to a question you thought he'd never ask. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek, bit your lip, and nodded. 

With that confirmation that you wanted what he did as well, he crashed his lips into yours. At first it was clumsy, like you were just getting to know each other, but soon your mouths moved together in sweet harmony. For a few minutes, you just kissed each other's breath away. Then, almost as if a switch was flipped, suddenly the movements of your mouths and tongues together weren't enough. You swung your leg over his, straddling him, and he immediately slid his hands down to cup your ass and drag you into his lap. 

Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him, desperate for friction. With one hand, he pulled your hair behind your shoulder so he could place open-mouthed, hungry kisses across your jaw and throat. You could feel how hard he was beneath you and it only made you more desperate. Heat pooled between your legs, your pussy wet with anticipation as you kissed and groped each other like a couple of teenagers. You would've been glad the whole town was asleep if you'd had enough thought to care about how you looked at that moment. 

"Fuck, Daryl," you panted, trying to catch your breath as he took it away. One hand had moved from your ass and began to paw at your breasts through your shirt. Pressing your center down on him, he bit your bottom lip and you pulled him closer as if you were trying to meld your bodies together. He let out a low groan that rumbled through his chest, and you giggled. He cocked his head at you in confusion. 

"What?" 

"Sorry, sorry." You continued to giggle, "I just can't believe we're doing this." 

"Why's 'at?" You loved the way his words slid together like he was drunk on your touch (though, logically, you knew the weed likely had something to do with it). 

"I've wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon." You put a hand on either side of his face and looked right into his eyes. Goosebumps creeped up your skin as his rough fingers caressed your sides under your shirt, and you bit your lip before reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You swore his eyes sparkled as he watched you pull the fabric up and over your head. 

"Yer so beautiful," he sighed before ducking forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your fingers tangled in his hair and a loud moan escaped your lips as he flicked his tongue over the hardening bud. You tugged his head back to make him look up at you and he melted at the soft smile on your face.

“Daryl,” you whispered and he quirked his eyebrow up at you. “Do you want to take this inside?” You weren’t exactly shy but if you were being honest, you didn’t want to share the moment with anyone who may also have trouble sleeping and happened upon the scene. He nodded and you pressed your lips to his again before moving off of his lap.

The two of you had barely made it in the door to his basement room when he had you backed up into the wall. The pressure of his mouth on yours was more delicious than you’d imagined and your knees grew weak as his scruff tickled the skin around your lips. You were surprised at the way he had taken the lead in this dance, but you were far from complaining about it. Loving the way he felt against you, you moved your hand to rub him through his jeans. He was rock hard and pressed against the seam of his pants, making him groan as you pressed into him.

You began to unbuckle his belt but stopped when you felt his breath hitch against your skin. You looked up at him to find his eyes closed and what you hoped was a look of bliss across his face. When he felt your movements stall, he opened his eyes and caught your soft look of uncertainty. 

“Wha’s ‘a matter?” He moved his hands so his thumbs rested at your temple.

“Just want to make sure you want this.”

“‘Course I want this.” The rough calluses of the pads of his thumbs brushed down the soft skin of your cheekbones and your lips surged up to meet his. Your fingers continued their delicate mission with his belt before unbuttoning his pants. His hips bucked up to meet your warm palm as you slid your hand between the cotton of his boxer briefs and the denim. Daryl’s hands slowly made their way down your body and found themselves at the button of your own jeans. As his fingers made quick work of the button, you slid your hand around to his hip so you could feel him pressing you heavily into the wall behind you. You gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against your center and the moan that left your lips as he rolled his hips into yours was downright sinful. His mouth quickly found yours again and he swallowed down your moans as his talented fingers found their way to your slick folds.

“Yes!” you cried as the tip of his middle finger circled your clit. Your breath eluded you as you felt something shift in his demeanor. Suddenly, Daryl was shoving your jeans and underwear to the floor as you frantically grabbed for the hem of his shirt, barely detaching your mouths long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of your wetness against his skin was so perfect that he couldn’t even find the energy to be anxious or ashamed as your hands danced over the scars that littered his back. His clothes quickly joined yours on the floor and he thought he might lose it at the sigh that escaped your lips as his cock brushed against your core. You lifted one leg to drape over his hip so he could better access your excited pussy. With one hand, Daryl fisted himself and teased you as he slid his tip over your entrance and through your slick. His other hand moved to your ass to lift you up and give him a better angle.

As he thrust into your wet heat, he growled against the delicate skin of your throat. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt anything so perfect as when he buried himself in you. The way he filled you to the brim made you tremble, and Daryl paused to try to get himself together. The way your walls clenched around him would be the end of him, he was sure of it. 

“Daryl,” you whined, “I need you to move. Need to feel you.” That was enough to snap him out of his reverie and he pulled back just to slam himself into you again. You let out a cry and tightened your grasp around his shoulders and squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

“Ya feel so good,” he rasped in your ear as he pounded into you again and again. The way he slammed into that sweet spot with each thrust was divine and you couldn’t get enough. You felt the familiar warmth begin to bloom below your belly button as he dragged you toward your peak. 

“You feel incredible. Don’t stop!” Your voice was much higher pitched than usual as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge. His grip on your ass tightened and you wouldn’t have been surprised if there were bruises forming where his fingers pressed deep into your cheeks as he held you in place and fucked you like you’d only dreamed he would.

“Fuck,” you chanted and Daryl’s breaths became staccato as the friction built between you. You could feel his pace quicken and his rhythm stuttered as you tumbled over the edge of your climax. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder as you came, feeling your whole body shudder. Daryl fucked you through your peak as the waves of his own orgasm crashed over him. The feeling of him spilling hot inside of you made you dig your nails into his biceps as if you could cling to the sensation. He placed surprisingly soft kisses along the bottom of your jaw as his breathing began to even out.

“That was—holy shit—exactly what I fucking wanted,” you sighed and let yourself collapse into his chest as he set you down. 

“Good, now let’s get some sleep.” Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and moved to steer you toward his bed.

He lifted the blanket so you could crawl in and he followed right after. As you settled in, you couldn't help but curl up against his side, his warmth engulfing you as he tucked his arm around you. You turned to face him and placed a kiss on his chest when you felt him tense beneath you. 

"What?" you asked, and you felt him shake his head. 

"Mmm," he started, collecting his thoughts. "Jus' wonderin' if this is a one-time, we're high kinda thing or—" 

"I hope not." You wrapped your arm around his torso and craned your head to look up at him. "I meant what I said earlier about wanting you for a while, and not just 'cause you're sexy." He scoffed but you felt him relax again, and he pulled you closer in to his side. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home. There was nowhere you'd rather be than contentedly tucked into his side, his bare skin pressed softly against yours. 

[ella-cooper]

"Most delicious paste there is. Especially according to my mom. I think it's mostly cause she used to go all the time with her own mom. It was like one of their things. Her nugget obsession was all nostalgia fueled," they joked, already wishing they hadn't said anything, not because of Reina but because of how easily it started to take them apart. Just thinking about their mother and grandmother so easily chipped away at the hardened case that held the memories of them. The ones Ella refused to come face to face with. "It was paradise, yeah," they ended with a soft smile before shaking of the memories one more time. "Yeah, yeah, I don't think any of us saw it coming. Maybe it works for her. Maybe she's bi, hey I don't want to shame," Ella said and held their hands up while laughing. "Oh come on, we'd have so much fun at a reunion," they joked, not sure they'd go either if they were actually invited. "We could just talk shit about everyone, that's really why people go to them. And to show everyone how hot they are now. But I was always hot so it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone," they told her with a wink. They did like to think they had grown a lot from the teenager they were but maybe they had just become more and more like that person. Just with a weed dependency and business to be responsible for. "Nah I'm just kidding, who wants to waste time going back to high school? Actually a nightmare. I'd rather watch paint dry." They sat back from their tray a bit once their wrist started hurting again and took a deep breath. "So if I'm not the saddest sight you've ever seen, what's the weirdest way a person has gotten injured that you've seen in the ER? If you're you know..allowed to divulged trade secrets."

Humming softly, Reina had a feeling she knew what Ella was loosely referring to– their wedding. Or, rather, their almost wedding, where they’d bolted like something straight out of a Hollywood rom-com…minus the rom part. While it had been years ago now, Reina still remembered it like it was yesterday. “We’re all a little misguided,” she assured them, knowing that she was the last person who needed to talk about anyone else being misguided– Reina had quite a few of her own stories from over the years. Still, she wasn’t sure any of them would top Ella running from the altar. “Wait, wait,” Reina held up a hand, begging for a moment of clarification, “She didn’t like frozen nuggets but McDonald’s nuggets were okay? That shit is like…paste from a can, there’s no way that is real chicken,” she protested, head shaking. That didn’t mean that Reina didn’t absolutely devour them at least once a week though. “It honestly sounds like processed food paradise and I’m here for it.” Taking another bite of her sandwich, Reina lifted a brow as Ella mentioned Gwen. It took her a minute, but slowly, the name started to kick up a memory, especially when paired with the red hair descriptor. “Oh yeah, I remember her now. Wait– she’s fucking married…to a man? Didn’t see that coming,” Reina admitted with a snort of laughter. Gwen had always given her the same vibes she’d given Ella. “Shut the fuck up– did she really? What a little sleaze,” she practically cackled, finding it all too easy to picture the scene. “I’m not even gonna lie, sometimes pettiness has its perks. That’s the only reason you’d catch my ass at a reunion too, but,” she paused, sucking in a sharp breath, “Still not planning on going to ours. This fucking town is small enough as is, I don’t want to actually sign up to see those assholes when seeing them in the grocery store is bad enough.”

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

I must say I love your vander x reader stuff, may I request one where mom!reader reacts badly to serious violence like panic attack and crying (maybe because it brings up bad memories) and vander and the kids help calm her down.

Heyo. I'm sorry if this sucks. I really tried but somehow it was really hard to write. I hope you can still enjoy it. Warnings: graphic description of violence, graphic description of panic attack

You didn’t exactly know how it had started. One second you were on your way back to The Last Drop, only a few meters left, and the next a fight had broken out around you. Maybe some drunkards were causing trouble or someone had made a fool of someone else or two rivaling gangs had bumped heads. But in the end it didn’t matter. All that mattered were the people all around you, shouting in rage and throwing fists.

You flattened yourself to the wall of the building next to you and watched with big eyes. Directly in front of you one man punched out the lights of another and stomped onto his ribcage with a sickening sound between bones snapping and squelching.

A whimper escaped you. Oh fuck. Not now. Why… Your hands wandered to your chest on their own gripping your clothes. A few meters to your left one man had thrust a knife into the guts of another and seemed hell bend on stirring the others guts.

You were full on sobbing now. Eyes so wide you felt them water. Shit no no, you were okay, they weren’t even realizing you were there. They wouldn’t hurt you.

Your throat closed up and you sucked air in in in IN - but you were suffocating. Why couldn’t you breathe? Your heart thundered in your chest and in your closed throat.

Fuck no. Nothing was wrong, you were okay you were okay you were okay. You gasped for air. You needed to breathe you needed oxygen. Just get your shit together, just do it. You could breathe you could…

But your chest felt like it was being crushed - no air and you would die. Your hands had started grasping your throat, scratching the skin there without realizing it. You doubled over. Heaving for air. Your ears were ringing and you stared at the ground blankly, tears escaping you.

Suddenly two big hands closed around your arms and tugged your hands away from your throat. A wail escaped your throat.

“No!”, you screamed. No touch. Who was touching you? No nononnononnno touch! Get away, get away or else they would hurt you. But you couldn’t breathe and you would die and suffocate and-

“Sweet’art! Sweet’art look at me!” A booming voice spoke over the rushing in your ears and you saw two broad palms raised before you in surrender.

Black spots danced at the corners of your eyes as you realized Vander stood before you. You gasped for air futilely and reached forward.

You surely would have face planted if it hadn’t been for Vander’s strong arms catching you. Without waiting a second more he lifted you in his arms and pressed you against his chest. Your hands fisted his shirt trying to get air inside your lungs. His heart beating strongly in his chest and you pressed your cheek against it.

His arms tightened around you, keeping you safe.

“Benzo! Ya can handle this. I’ll take ‘er back!” If anyone would have tried to stop him at that moment that would have been the last thing they attempted. But luckily no one had a death wish.

You pressed your hands over your ears. Why was everything so loud? Why….

Vander rushed through the door of The Last Drop. He had only seen you have a panic attack once before and it broke his heart seeing you in pain.

The last drop must have been practically in arms reach because before you could spiral further Vander laid you down on a bed on the second floor and immediately joined you.

He laid down on top of you with most of his body weight and watched your expression closely.

His weight effectively pushed out all the air from your lungs and as you tried to breathe again you managed to take a deep gulp of air. Immediately your vision cleared up a bit.

“You’re fine Sweet’art. Those were just some drunkards. Ye're fine. Yo aren’t hurt. No one will get to ya. Ye're fine.” The soothing voice of Vander was directly next to your ear and you concentrated on him with all you got. He was repeating the same words over and over again.

Everything was fine. His weight pushed the panic back. The quiet murmur of his voice easily drowned out the ringing in your ears. He was warm. He was here.

You could breathe. You were fine.

When he noticed that your breathing had returned to normal he rolled off of you onto his side.

His eyes were studying you closely, watching for a sign of your panic attack returning. Carefully his broad palm found your cheek and his thumb caressed the soft skin there.

He felt something inside of his chest unclench when you nuzzled further into his palm.

“Thank you.”, you whispered and your voice sounded horribly hoarse. He smiled at you sadly.

“No worries Sweet’art.” His lips on your forehead made you fist your hands in his shirt again. He was so big and warm. he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

Your eyes wandered to the door when you heard whispering and looked at the frightened eyes of Powder and Ekko. They were both watching you closely and you waved them inside weakly. “It’s fine. You can come in.”

They hurried to your side and watched as Vander pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Are you hurt?”, Powder asked and both kids breathed audibly in relieve when you shook your head.

“I’m just tired Pow.”

“Would it help if we napped with you?”, Ekko asked immediately and you smiled.

“That would help immensely.” At your answer both kids looked at Vander, who chuckled.

“Well, get in kids.” He lifted the blankets and stood up. Then he addressed you. “I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” He kissed your cheek and you closed your eyes. Keeping them open was way too exhausting.

“If something happens come and get me.” Powder and Ekko nodded seriously and immediately took Vander’s place as he stood up.

Your eyes were already falling shut the moment he left the room with one last lingering look at you.

Powder and Ekko settled in next to you hugging you and holding your hands. They cuddled as close as possible and listened to your breathing even out.

Before they noticed they had fallen asleep too. And that was how Vander found you again.

Sandwiched between Powder and Ekko sleeping peacefully.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

look i didn’t want to be a sour kid

god, it's brutal out here: and percy jackson knows what that means. scars on his body like pulled threads. calluses on his palms from pens that turn into swords, coins that turn into weapons, hands that curl into fists. walking home after an annoying day at school and having to fight the troll on the bridge. you must give me something in order to pass my territory. he gives it death. it gives him another shirt to wash blood stains out of. gods with too much arrogance giving him quests with too little return policy. body that doesn't want to cooperate after he blows up a mountain. body that wants to move too fast when he needs to follow a plan. heart that gets broken and rebuilt with different materials every day. god it’s brutal out here: and percy jackson knows it’s brutal in here too.

traitor: and percy jackson has never felt a word more like a branding in his entire life. he thinks back to the summer he turned thirteen and he sees scorpion tails flashing behind his eyelids. and he sees blonde hair and sometimes he can't differentiate between her and him and them and him. and he sees a scar and he wonders if the cut was deep enough to lose goodness. and he thinks maybe he wouldn’t have minded so much if someone had just told him what was going on. and that makes him a traitor too. and he sees it now, how easily he would succumb to the scorpion tail. how he would welcome the bliss of losing his goodness. who’s to say it’s true goodness anyway? and he remembers the red curls and the summer of beach walks and glass houses and the look of betrayal when plastic hairbrush meets yankees cap. is he a traitor then? to his own feelings? surely not. must be. neither of them liked it. he liked them. traitor, but to who? and remembers the day he left a girl on an island and promised to help her and couldn’t in the end. he remembers eyes of fire at his incompetence. and he is a betrayer. but only to others. traitor: and percy jackson thinks he’s never really betrayed anyone but himself.

got my driver’s license: and percy jackson is growing up so fast his limbs can't keep up. one leg is slightly longer than the other and it makes him clumsy. his left hand is bigger than his right and he uses it to punch. he flies a pegasus for the first time and he understands why mortals are always so angry. they will never know this unbridled freedom. and he gets kissed by a girl and he thinks his skin understands the heat of the sun. and his hair becomes curls instead of waves and he has to clip it> push it> tie it back because it keeps getting in his eyes. and his mom asks him if he wants “blue cake this year?” and he has to tell her he’ll never be too old for it because she’s scared he’s going to grow out of her love. he is not. and paul teaches him how to read a book without feeling like his eyes are drowning and he can’t believe he’s learning to read in high school. and he is moving through the days like water, finding a way around everything. got my driver’s license: and percy jackson knows it’s only a matter of time before he gets a death sentence too.

it’s always one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson is waking up with no sense of who he is. he is carrying a goddess on his back and he doesn’t even know who his mother is. he is stepping across a river and erasing the curse of indestructible. he is again a demigod with too much vulnerability and not enough care. and he is being flung to an island where time doesn’t move and he doesn’t want to either. and he is healing like he never has before. and he is leaving and not even the girl who loves him can keep him there because he loves another girl and she doesn’t know she loves him back. and he is taking the sky from a friend and he is giving the sky to a goddess and he is leaving a hunter to see the stars and he is watching a new hunter evade the fate they are cursed with. and he was relieved from this burden for one brief second in time. burden of what? burden of sky? burden of prophecy? burden of death? and they are all handed back to him, presented with no other option. they are not the weights in the balancing scale. they are the scale and he is the weights. one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson wonders if he can go far back enough to erase his own existence. 

i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is hurtled to summers spent in a camp, next to a girl, next to a satyr, next to a friend. and he is living his life in montauk with his mom and he is watching red hair fly in the wind, paint smudges on their  skin. and he is remembering how everything is different every year but he can still see the fire wall from his cabin and the smell of wild strawberries is the only thing his scent receptors know how to identify. and he knows solstice could bring death or happiness and he’s starting to think one doesn’t exist and one exists too much. and he sees people who love him and show it in ways he knows. blue candy has never been a complicated feeling. and doesn’t see people who love him in ways he doesn’t know. seaweed brain, let me come with you into the labyrinth, become praetor with me. and he thinks his childhood disappeared the day his mother was kidnapped and is it possible to have déjà vu if you’ve never lived enough to experience something once. and he thinks maybe the god of the sun gets déjà vu every time he pulls the star across the sky because it’s all about warmth isn’t it? your body’s way of saying we’ve been here before and we survived. i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is sure he has lived a thousand lives in this one alone.

good for you: and percy jackson is craving a life that doesn’t involve this madness. he is jealous of the kid in his science class that accidentally knocks over the bunsen burner and only gets a disapproving look from the teacher. his nose bleed starts a war. he is jealous of the neireids that simply become the water and wait for the world to stop burning itself to the ground. you look happy and healthy and he looks like he’s missing five years of his life and no way of moving forward. he is tired and he wants to sleep but the last time he did that it was six months later and he couldn’t remember anything. and he wants to sink to the bottom of the ocean but he is still exhaling mud because he drowned in sludge once. and he is too young to be this exhausted but. good for you: and percy jackson wants to become the villain.

all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is struggling with the expectations people who don't know him want him to have. he is twelve and the teacher hands back a test face down and he knows he’s going to shove it into the pit of his bag before he can be scathed by a red pen. he is thirteen and his mother has finally given herself the hero ending she deserves but he is still this little kid who doesn’t know how to handle the world and if she doesn’t need him to protect her what is his purpose? he is a teenager watching people have silent conversations about his fate and getting no replies when he asks too. as if it is ridiculous to involve himself in these discussions. he can't be the one, it’s not possible. and wait she is here, from her tree grave. no, she is gone, to her hunter fate. wait they are here from their timeless casino. no she is gone and he is young. far too young. and he can’t do this and he can’t do that and he isn’t there yet, not powerful, too reckless, too loyal. the monsters realise his potential and use it to hurt him. the people don't realise his potential and wish he would use it. all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is too far gone to be of use.

i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson cannot fall in love unless it’s with her. and he has seen the beauty of people and he wants to keep them all close and he doesn’t know how to do it because she keeps him in her grasp. deathly afraid of spiders she says but she has built a web so big he can't move without getting caught. and he goes to a scorned girl on a secluded beach and he likes the way her eyes sparkle in the sun, how she plants the same way his mother does and he leaves her there because she doesn’t have a storm in her gaze. and he loses his memory and remembers only her and he knows it’s inescapable. and maybe he kind of loves it. nobody has ever really given him a choice anyway. at least this one he can love. i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson has never known happier anyway.

jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson is surrounded by the best. he is in a camp dedicated to people like him and he is still at the bottom. and he is on a quest that makes him the main perpetrator but he is still being puppeted along. and he cant help but wonder if he will turn out like the boy with the scarred face. and he cant help but wonder if he’ll turn out like the girl who grabbed a figurine. and he can't help but wonder if he’ll become a monster or a hero and what’s the difference really. everyone is fighting for a cause. it’s just the matter of whose side you're on. and he wants to know what will happen if he just lets go. he wants to be like the people who follow their cause. instead he is doing biddings. he is following orders. he is making things right. jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson wants to know if he can be jealous of his own dreams.

i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson is a little kid with a long record. he is on the news plastered as a criminal endangering others, blowing up a bus. it is not the last destruction he causes. he learns to get clever about it. and he is on the news sobbing about his generous stepdad. generous about the bruises he administers, and the words he spits. generous about his appliances. and he is on the news for jumping off a bridge too high to survive. and he doesn’t really know if he will survive but when is he ever really sure he’s going to survive anyway? at least this was a choice. and he is always a criminal unable to plead his innocence. i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson wonders if anyone cares about the injustices against him. 

you're okay: and percy jackson is staring at his reflection in the rippling water and he knows it’s time to forgive himself. he was just a child. with far too much responsibility and far too much guilt. he had seen death before he’d had his first kiss. he had felt pain before he felt comfort. he had never known safety. and now he is old enough to go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he has to forgive himself first. because he was just a kid with a hundred targets on his back and only a fierce need to survive protecting him. you’re okay: and percy jackson knows he will be.