#it's raining loud outside and I'm watching camp camp

[very-uncorrect]

"Is David joining a cult again?" Ccbskamwhhgjeow

[itsgrimeytime]

When it rains... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

And there it was.

The rain poured down from the skies, heavy and unrelentless -as a deep rumble echoed through the ground.

You'd been on a mini-run with Rick, he'd only let a few out of the camp -shelter was weak, and everyone was on the move. He didn't want to expose more than he needed to, and you frankly refused to let him go alone.

"Shit," he muttered, the door barely ajar -lighting up his face ever-so-slightly to the pouring rain.

In the normal world, rain hardly meant anything. But in this one, where treatment was desolate and sickness was easily aggressively excelled, it was a deal breaker.

You paused, fingers trailing along the dirty but intact windows -watching the rain spill down the glass, "Think it'll pass through?"

Rick bit his lip, shaking his head -eyes heavy on the pouring rain outside, "Looks too heavy to go anywhere now."

"Shit," you agreed, hearing the heavy downpour, "-you think we can stay here?"

"We 'ave to," he answered, sighing and rubbing along the bridge of his nose -worried.

"Hey, hey," you rushed up to him, rubbing your hands down his arms -hoping any sort of comfort would come from it, "-I'm sure they're fine. Daryl would've found a shelter, at least for the night."

Rick sighed, leaning his head forward to rest on your shoulder. You could feel the gentle puffs of air blooming across your skin from where he breathed -it made your heart beat just a touch faster.

Ever since the run-in with the Claimers, he'd been on edge -a ruthless edge. He hadn't let you so much as move from his side for weeks, never mind Judith and Carl.

"You always kno' the right thin' to say," he mumbled against your skin, as your fingers trailed to his hair -combing through the mess.

Part of you wished that you could take care of him like he so often took care of everyone else. You tried your best when you could get him to focus on anything but shelter, food, water, and safety.

You'd always hoped it helped.

"I try," you smiled, bringing up your other hand to brush over his scalp. Mindlessly counting the breaths he took against your skin, you dusted your fingers over his shoulders -detailing the stitching on his jacket.

He pushed into you just a little more, and you faltered in your step -tone light, "Rick, you wanna go somewhere more comfortable?"

He let out a low hum against your skin -lips brushing against the fabric of your shirt, you felt some goosebumps erupt in its place. Even now, he still affected you.

"Yeah," he finally replied, sitting up from your shoulder with a soft gaze steady in his eyes -he looked tired. So very tired.

You frowned, holding up your hands to the sides of his face -focusing his attention on you, "Have you been sleeping?"

"'Been tryin' to."

You sighed, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek -slowly retracting your hands to link one with his own. He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb along the back of your palm, almost like a reassurance that you were there. Remembering a couch in the living room that had looked untouched by the outside world, you guided him behind you.

Without so much as an extra thought you laid down on the cushions -hand still loosely intertwined with his, you tugged gently. He was so soft then, so vulnerable that he merely followed the motion. Like putty in your hands, he trusted you.

You smiled, as he laid on top of you, head neatly on your chest -your fingers trailing through his curls, sorting out some knots with the gentlest of brushes. This was a special sort of occasion.

Sometimes, when the world would get too loud and all he could do was worry -he'd asked for this. And when you'd asked why this position specifically, he answered -tone muffled and tired but all too fond.

"I can hear your heartbeat, I know y'er alive."

You whispered, barely a breath -hoping to instill it into his head, soothe the worries that creased his brow, "I'm not going anywhere, Rick."

He scooted up, placing his lips on your collarbone -sweet, gentle, and domestic, "I kno', sweetheart."

You laughed a bit at the sensation, a familiar buzz echoing down your spine -as it always had done with Rick. Even before all this, when he'd just placed a hand on your shoulder and told you the plan for the day, or gently held your wrist to keep you from stepping forward on a run. (He always insisted to go first.) You still felt a sort of spark there, untamed and timid, but enough for you to know what it meant.

Rick only grinned at the nose, stubble tickling the exposed skin of your neck as he pressed more there. Only chaste ones that merely last a moment, gently moving your chin with his fingers (calloused from the days work) to get better access to each inch of skin.

You hummed at the affection, trying desperately to savor something so domestic, as your time dwindled. Being on the move meant fewer quiet moments like these, and being in the apocalypse had practically erased the idea of domesticity in your head. So, this was special, you'd try to remember it clearly.

And suddenly, Rick peeked up at you -through hazy blue eyes and a fond smile on his face that made your head spin just a smidge even today. A certain look you knew trailed there, you would've merely laughed at the circumstances if his face hadn't fallen rather serious.

"I love you."

Lips twitching up into a smile, you moved your hands to hold his face -carefully tracing some of the scars you could see there, "Do you, now? Or is that just because we're stuck here for the next few hours together?"

Rick rolled his eyes, leaning into your palms with rested ease and kissing them -like they were the most precious thing in the world. Like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"I love you too," you whispered back, as if the moment in front of you was breakable -blue eyes held on you like it was where they were supposed to be like they fit there.

He grinned, a teasing kind of smirk smoothing across his face -and you found that maybe the night wouldn’t be empty, "Thought so."

[lemony-snickers]

11. tentative hand holding

Kakashi pairing 😊

The storm that halted your progress continues to rage outside the small shelter you and Kakashi have constructed. You should be home by now, wrapped in blankets after a hot shower, maybe a cup of tea balanced on your knees.

Instead, you're crouched beneath an overhang dodging ice pellets and the tattered remnants of tree branches.

"Lovely weather we're having," Kakashi says, voice barely discernible over the howling wind.

You snort.

Everything had gone perfectly during your mission, at least. No snags or hiccups. Hell, before the squall rolled in, the two of you were on pace to return to Konoha a full half-day before you were scheduled.

"Gotta love this time of year," you say, "every season smashed together in a 24-hour period."

Kakashi chuckles in agreement. "Summer this morning, winter by the time you go to sleep."

You sigh, leaning your head back against the cool stone. "At least it's warm enough our toes aren't in any danger."

Kakashi agrees, "Still, it would be better if we hadn't gotten drenched before we found this spot."

He's not wrong. You are soaked to your skin beneath your ANBU uniform, the pants sticking uncomfortably to your thighs, the bend of your knee. You shake your head, droplets loosing wildly from the strands of your hair.

"You're worse than my ninken," Kakashi chides.

"Shut up."

He does, though you think his amused smile lingers beneath his mask.

The space you and Kakashi have claimed for yourselves is cramped, a cut out set into the side of a stone ridge. You and Kakashi dragged as many large tree branches as you could feasibly gather without being out in the rain for too long to stack against the opening before you finally conceded to the weather.

You sit, shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, watching the violent mixture of hail and rain beyond the meagerly fortified entrance.

You hope it isn't too obvious how his proximity both exhilirates and frightens you. How long you've harbored a crush for the Copy Ninja you aren't entirely sure, but you know enough about him to think he's not very interested.

Of all his admirers, you certainly aren't the most impressive or good-looking.

Still, it's nice to let your imagination wander for a moment as the two of you watch the storm, to consider what it might be like if you got to sit with him like this all the time, not only when necessary for your safety.

"I'm not keeping you from any important plans am I?" he asks.

You scrunch your face up as you turn to look at him, forgetting for a moment you both removed your masks once you settled into your makeshift camp.

"I don't think you're the one keeping me from anything," you say, gesturing with one hand at the raucous display of nature happening only feet away.

He shakes his head, "Be that as it may, I'm sorry if you were looking forward to better company than me tonight."

There's something about the tone of his voice that tugs at you a little. Not sad, exactly, but almost.

"Trust me, there are very few people I'd be as happy to spend my time with." The way his single eye widens a fraction when you say it makes you think you've revealed too much of your feelings. Hastily, you clear your throat and add, "You're a good commander, one of my favorite teammates. I'm glad we were assigned to this mission together."

You don't dare look at him, afraid he'll be able to read the true meaning of your words in your gaze. You've never been as good at concealing your emotions as he is, so you stare resolutely ahead, trying to count the raindrops to keep yourself occupied.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, the storm continuing to batter the branches you laid at the entrance. The hail gets larger, then smaller again. It disappears and then begins anew.

Kakashi groans. "I thought it was finally letting up," he says.

"Apparently we used all our luck up on that mission."

Kakashi laughs, the sound reverberating off the stone behind you as loud as the thunder cracking across the sky outside. The sound sends a shiver down your spine and he must mistake the motion for you being cold because Kakashi pulls his arm wide and says, "Come here. We'll stay warmer this way."

You hesitate. Because it's plenty warm enough already. It isn't even worth building a fire--the rain would surely snuff it out in a few short minutes, anyway. But you doubt you'll ever get this opportunity again, so you huddle closer to Kakashi under the guise of necessity and his arm wraps comfortably around your shoulders.

You mean to say, "thank you," but you're not sure the words ever make it out of your mouth.

The sound of happily chirping birds serves as an alarm clock the next morning, your eyes flutter open to the sight of golden sunlight streaming in between the branches. It takes a moment for you to recognize the pillow beneath your head is actually a human shoulder--Kakashi's shoulder--and the warmth you feel at your back is his arm.

"Good," he says, "I didn't want to wake you, but we should really get going."

The realization that you have spent the night sleeping in Kakashi Hatake's arms jolts you to alertness.

"Sorry!" you say, trying to work yourself out of his grasp only to meet resistance. "You could have woken me up," you say, turning to look at him, extremely conscious of the weight of his arm still looped over your shoulder.

His voice is much softer than you've ever heard it when he tells you, "You don't have to apologize. It was actually very nice."

The way he smiles at you makes you feel like an Aburame--body buzzing with a hive of anxious flying insects.

He lets you go easily the next time you pull away, and the two of you toss aside the branches you used as a shield the night before so you can continue the rest of your journey back to Konoha. You expect Kakashi to leap up into the trees, to set a quick pace to make up some of the lost time.

Instead, though, he opts to walk slowly through the forest, like he's trying to savor the moment.

You think of the way he looked at you when you woke up, how easily he offered his body heat and closeness. Maybe it's the scent of the rain or the warmth of the sun on your shoulders, or the lingering giddy feeling of his skin against your cheek, but something bold and reckless flares in your chest.

"Kakashi?" you ask, waiting for him to turn and look at you before you continue, "When we get back, would you... would you like to maybe have dinner with me?"

You wish he hadn't put his ANBU mask back on so you could better read his expression. But then he nods, says, "That sounds nice, I'd love to," and your mouth breaks into such a giddy, love-sick grin beneath your own mask you're suddenly very grateful for them.

As you continue your journey home, Kakashi maintains the same languid, unhurried pace. You watch his hands swing slowly as he walks, half wondering why they aren't forcefully shoved into his pockets as they usually are.

With that same buzzy insect feeling in your stomach, you slowly reach out a gloved hand and brush your fingers against his knuckles. You let your hand linger there for a moment, testing his response, prepared to pull away at the slightest hint of disinterest.

Instead, you feel Kakashi's fingers press against yours and then slot between them. You curl your hand, caging his, and feel the soft brush of his thumb as it caresses yours.

Yes, you're definitely grateful for the ANBU mask now because there's no way you would be able to explain away the goofy smile you're wearing if anyone saw it.

[northern-passage]

Lea is sitting by the front of the tent, smoking their pipe, peeking out and watching the rain through the trees while you sit hunched among the blankets, polishing your sword.

A lantern hangs from the ceiling of the tent, swaying slightly as the wind rattles outside, rain drumming loudly in the small space and grating your nerves. You suppose it could be worse. You're grateful Lea had you stop early to set up camp, or else you would have definitely been caught in the rain.

It's been a miserable few days, trying to get back to the stronghold - the rain has been almost non-stop, all of your gear and clothes soaked despite your best efforts, though you were able to dry up a bit this morning before it started up again.

Lea sighs, pulling closed the tent flap and finishing up their pipe, tucking it away before turning to look at you.

"Doesn't look good," they say, moving to sit across from you, dodging the swinging lantern as they do. The tent is taller than most, and plenty wide for the both of you, but it's still small. You can hear water dripping up above, but thankfully the cover holds, allowing for you to build a small fire inside which you are extremely grateful for. This tent in particular is preferred for the colder weather due to the opening allowing for fire and smoke, but the rain was unexpected - so far, though, it's held out. Quality Black Iron craftsmanship.

You mumble incoherently under your breath, shifting in your blankets and setting aside your sword. You're getting hot, sweating in the small space of the tent, and it's making you lethargic, rubbing at your eyes before you blink over at Lea.

They're watching you, their dark eyes narrowed.

"You should get some sleep. I'll wake you when food's ready," they say then, and you just frown at them.

"What about you?" you retort, and Lea just rolls their eyes at your tone.

"I'm not tired."

You open your mouth to keep arguing, but stop yourself, instead just letting out an indignant huff. You are pretty tired…

You flop down onto your bed roll, turning your back to Lea and ducking beneath the thick fur blankets. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep.

You're woken up by the sound of Lea's voice - loud and irritated, and then even louder comes the rain, breaking through the sleepy fog in your mind as you sit up and squint into the dark tent. The fire has all but burned out, and you realize there's water dripping from the ceiling, the rain a torrential downpour outside, and then there's Lea, hunched over the pit and swearing as they try to restart the fire. But you can tell it's wet, the wood no good, the ash dissolving into a muddy mess.

It takes you a moment to process what's happening, throwing the blankets off, Lea's attention snapping to you as you do.

"I'm sorry," they blurt immediately, dropping their gaze as they fruitlessly try to reignite the fire.

"I… I fell asleep," they admit, still not looking at you, and you can see their hands trembling in the dark, their breath fogging in front of them as the temperature drops.

Your side of the tent has fortunately remained dry, the leak contained to the center - right on top of the fire, of course. Lea is still swearing, fumbling in the dark, and you don't say anything for a moment, eyeing the ceiling and grimacing against the loud storm outside. The leak isn't catastrophic - it's just incredibly inconvenient. But you can survive one night without a fire.

"Lea," you say, and they ignore you at first, until you start to get up.

"I can restart it," they say quickly, shaking their head at you.

"You're going to freeze before you manage it," you say dryly.

They scowl at you, no doubt thinking you're mocking them. You don't mean to - it's just the truth.

"It will be fine. Just get over here and get warm," you say, holding up one of the thick fur blankets as a way of invitation.

Lea's frown just deepens.

"We still need to eat," they say brusquely, and you just click your tongue at them.

"Lea. It's fine. There's plenty of jerky and bread," you say, and they look a little sheepish at that, glancing sideways and wringing their hands.

You give them a long look, and they finally relent.

You slide over as they come around, making room for them as they pull at the furs. They'll keep you warm enough, even without a fire. And there's body heat. The thought makes you tense for some reason.

"I thought you weren't tired," you say then, unable to resist as they lay down beside you, and it earns you a nasty look, Lea curling up with their back to you then.

"Fuck off," they snap. "I-" but they stop short, and you glare over at them, at their messy bun, the curve of their shoulders, hunched in the dark as they fall quiet.

You prop yourself up on your elbow, trying to look at their face, and they turn to return your glare, their brow furrowed in irritation.

Their legs brush against your own as they move beneath the blankets, and you find yourself glancing over Lea, their angry, stitched brows, their dark eyes, their lips curled down into a sneer. Their hair, soft where it tickles against your arm, and their jaw, clenching as you watch them, the hollow of their throat exposed by the wide collar of their shirt, a beauty mark just visible as they tilt their head, peeking out from beneath the hem.

"What?" Lea says, but the venom from earlier has faded, their voice gone thick, and suddenly they're sitting up and looking down at you, and they're way to close, their black eyes looking too close, seeing too much, and you feel crowded, your breath hitching as you sink back into the blankets.

"I just wanted to let you sleep," they say abruptly, and you blink up at them, swallowing loudly in the tense silence.

Lea glances away then, sitting back a bit - but they freeze as you reach out, touch a long strand of hair that's fallen over their shoulder, hesitating before your hand flutters to the scars across their face, two long lines down their cheek, across their jaw, and your hand lingers in the air for an uncertain moment before you carefully begin to trace the scars with a delicate finger. You can feel their breath on the inside of your wrist, ghosting over your lips as they lean forward, a hand suddenly grabbing at you beneath the blankets, Lea's palm flush against your side and flexing hard enough to hurt.

Your own hand moves to tangle in their hair, roughly cupping the back of their neck as you both push against each other simultaneously, your legs sliding between theirs, their arm wrapping around your waist as their lips brush against yours. It's barely a touch, but it's enough, and they're pulling you even closer, their arm tightening, your teeth clicking together deliciously painful before you kiss, open-mouthed and breathless.

They mutter your name into your mouth, and you close your eyes, tilting your head as the kiss turns frantic and sloppy, the sounds you're making somehow far louder than the storm outside, though just as wet. Your head is spinning, no coherent thought beyond clinging to Lea, beyond tasting Lea, feeling Lea, and you think you might moan, a low sound in the back of your throat as they move to pin you beneath them, their thigh flexing between your legs.

It's painful when Lea suddenly pulls back, their arms trembling as they push themself off of you, their lips swollen and their dark eyes wide.

"Lea," you say, your voice barely a whisper over the rain, but they shake their head, untangling their limbs from yours, and there's a roaring in your ears, the beat of your heart thundering too loud as they retreat, breathing heavy and avoiding your gaze.

"That was inappropriate," they say weakly, and you almost want to laugh at how ridiculous it sounds - but it hurts too much.

"If that's what you want to call it," is what you say instead, your voice stinging and bitter.

Lea doesn't respond to that, turning away from you, grabbing some of the blankets and leaving you feeling cold and exposed as they move across the tent.

"I'm sorry," Lea says without looking at you. "I just wanted to let you sleep," they repeat that again, their voice raw, and still they won't look at you, their back pointedly in your direction as they reach up and redo their hair, smoothing the messy strands back and tying it tight out of their face.

You turn away then, too, not deigning a response, pulling the remaining blankets up over your head and hiding your shame in the dark.

[alpineshift]

Oooh please may I have number 16 where Nico is a secret witch/fae/etc

Presenting to you: forest witch!Nico with earth magic who can turn into a big fluffy Norwegian forest cat. (+cozy autumn town vibes)

16. “You won’t believe me.”  “Try me.” 

When he opens his front door and sees Jack standing on his porch, Nico immediately tries to slam it shut, which - first of all, rude, and second of all, just confirms the sneaking suspicion Jack's had that his boyfriend is avoiding him.

Rude. So of course Jack wedges his foot in the doorway and elbows his way in; not that Nico has ever really managed to shut him out--he's always soft on Jack, so sweet to him, a fact that Jack would normally feel bad about but right now this is a crisis of their relationship, damn it.

"You're avoiding me," Jack says, taking the bat to the hornet's nest without hesitation. "You're avoiding me, we need to talk about that night in the campground, and we are going to do it right here, right now, or so help me god you won't know another day of peace."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nico says, like a lying liar. His tell is how he always runs his hands through his hair and then scrunches his nose. Which he does, in perfect expected order. And Jack pounces.

"Something was there that night we went camping. Something was there, it was watching us, and I know this for a fuckin' fact."

"It was dark that night, Jack, rain was everywhere and the storm was crazy, and that was it. There was nothing weird happening--"

"So you're telling me some lightning flashes and there's loud thunder and I simply imagined something grabbing my ankle and dragging me into the bush? All those scratches on my arm are fake? The handprint on my leg? Get real, Neeks."

"I'm saying the chances of you tripping and falling down are more likely than you getting pulled--"

He's grabbing the front of Nico's sweater and shoving him up against the wall before he could rethink it; Nico's eyes go wide, and Jack's so close he can literally feel every motion of Nico's stuttered breathing. "Fine. Sure. Let's say you're right about that. But I know that I saw a monster. I saw all three rows of its teeth and I felt its claws around my neck and I could smell the rot in its breath, and just when I thought was fucked for sure, I saw you."

"You didn't," Nico pleads, fingers curling into Jack's arms.

"I did. I saw you, I saw the trees move and the vines rip that thing away and before I fell and blacked out like some loser I saw you take a knife to that thing, Nico. I know you saved my life, and I need to understand how."

He hates the way Nico just sags in defeat, his weight slumped against Jack's front, and how small his voice is when he whispers, "You won't believe me."

"Try me," Jack replies, curling his arms around Nico in a hug. He rests his cheek against Nico's, trying to will his boyfriend to understand he isn't angry, just. Scared. And lost. "Baby, please, just--tell me what happened, and tell me what's wrong."

It's still a shock, even after all the certainty he'd felt after that night in the campground, to hear the unexpected rustling of the leaves outside, the deep howl of the wind as it picks up, to see the sky darken as clouds roll in and all the plants inside Nico's house shake and tremble under some unknown command. And it's an even bigger shock to see the way Nico's eyes glow gold, like the depths of a furnace, to feel the heat of magic radiating off his body.

But Jack's seen those eyes before--that night Nico crashed through the forest after him, ripped the monster away with a bellow of don't you dare touch him and then cradled Jack in his arms on the ground, shielding him from the storm with his whole body, before Jack blacked out.

Nico's beautiful like this. And Jack delights in the sheer shock and relief that fills those golden eyes when he says it.

send me a jacknico prompt!

[ts1989fanatic]

Taylor Swift's fans are renowned for their loyalty and dedication.

Known colloquially as "Swifties," they sell out stadiums in minutes; spend weeks creating intricate outfits that pay tribute to her albums; comb through her lyrics to find Easter eggs and secret messages.

Back in November, the fandom received national attention for taking action after Ticketmaster bungled the Eras Tour presale.

The backlash was so loud and so fervent that the Department of Justice launched an antitrust investigation into Ticketmaster's parent company. The power of Swifties became clearer than ever.

Indeed, the sheer passion of Swift's fans has helped make her the biggest pop star in the world — but that doesn't grant them absolute access to her life and personal space.

Recently, Swift obsessives have been exhibiting overzealous — and frankly concerning — behavior. Videos have circulated online that show swarms of people camping outside her home in New York City and Electric Lady Studios, where she's been spotted working in between tour dates. Other clips show fans chasing her car down the street.

It's one thing to wait for hours in the pouring rain to watch Swift deliver a spectacular concert. That's her job. It's another, more sinister thing to wait for hours on the sidewalk, just to film her car entering her home garage. That's her life.

Swift has been candid about fending off stalkers throughout her career, making this behavior particularly egregious for anyone who claims to care about her well-being.

"My fear of violence has continued into my personal life," she wrote for Elle in 2019. "I carry QuikClot army-grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I've ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things."

This is not to say that Swift's most fervent fans are all stalkers, but it's easy to see how this behavior could be triggering for someone who's been stalked. And as Swift said in her "Miss Americana" documentary in 2020, "There's a difference between 'I really connect with your lyrics' and 'I'm going to break in.'" Some Swifties clearly need to be reminded of where that line is.

This is also not the first time Swifties have overstepped. Some fans have been known to harass members of the LGBTQ community for analyzing Swift's songs through a queer lens. Others have sent insults and death threats to music critics for less-than-glowing reviews of Swift's music.

Of course, this behavior isn't unique to Swifties. But Swift's lack of admonition is uniquely strange. She has marketed herself as someone who's not afraid to speak up to defend her values, someone who has explicitly condemned homophobes and bullies in her music.

Swift has also said she's proud of her affectionate relationship with fans. She has invited Swifties to her Nashville home for album listening parties; sent personalized notes to celebrate milestones; donated money for college tuitions; protected concertgoers from aggressive security guards.

Unfortunately, a healthy relationship cannot be sustained with affection alone, be it interpersonal or parasocial.

At the risk of sounding like a wannabe therapist, constructive feedback is essential for growth — and when someone you love disrespects your boundaries, it's not constructive to say silent.

This is something that Phoebe Bridgers, Swift's friend and collaborator, knows all too well.

Although Bridgers experiences fame on a vastly different level than Swift, she has also been subjected to abuse and entitlement at the hands of "people with my picture as their Twitter picture."

In a March interview with Them, Bridgers said she was "bullied" in the midst of a speculative frenzy about her dating life — while she was on the way to her father's funeral.

"I've had people take more than I'm giving, and I'm giving a lot," Bridgers recently told the Wall Street Journal. "I'm pretty fucking transparent, because I would value that in someone whose music I liked when I was a kid. Seeing any representation of any feeling and anything true was awesome to me. To be punished for that is so dark."

"There's a higher chance that you'll meet a fan that you hate than a fan that you love," she added. "You're way more likely to be confronted with someone who just violated your privacy."

If these quotes rub you the wrong way, you may be the problem.

Connecting to a person's music does not give you the right to violate her privacy, and Bridgers isn't afraid to draw that line. I wish more musicians would follow suit.

Ahead of Bridgers' final performance at the Eras Tour on Sunday, I hope Swift is able to absorb some of her bravery and wisdom. It's OK to criticize people for bad behavior — and the fans who stick around are the ones worth keeping.

ts1989fanatic

Even the media can get it right on occasion, the recent behaviour by some so called swifties is bordering on STALKING and needs to stop.

Unless we all want to go back to why she disappeared again.

[pbandjesse]

I hate how anxious I have been feeling. Around staying at camp. About the heat. About everything outside the house. It is so frustrating. I didn't have a bad day. I even slept well. But man. I am just so anxious.

I slept well though. Last night I went to sleep easily. But I was still tired. It didn't help that my allergies had made my face all puffy. I had to change out of my planned outfit because I was so hot. The heat is supposed to start calming down. But only a little. I just wish the best wave would stop. It's killing me. I was not in a good head space but James was trying to make me feel better. They walked to the car with me. And carried my cup because I had so many other things in my hands. They hugged me for a long time but I had to go.

They would run back to the house to get a container I forgot. I made a uturn so I could be closer to them and they didn't have to run down the street. Got one extra kiss. And then I was off.

The drive in was hard only because I was tired and was struggling to keep my eyes open. I told myself that when I got to camp I would lay down for a half hour. And that's exactly what I did.

I would set up my stuff quickly. And got in my hammock. Set an alarm. And was fast asleep pretty quick.

The 45 minute nap I took did end up helping. Though I was woken up by a bee in my hammock which was buzzing really loud and scared me. But I did not get stung and got home and shook off the sleepiness.

It would be a nice day. I am having material issues. It's only Tuesday and I'm almost completely out of rubber blocks. Not good at all. I don't know how I let that happen. But I will continue to do my best to get through all the groups with enough materials. So everyone gets to try what they want to try.

The kids would do a good job though. We had some fun prints and they would pick up on how to do it right away. I really glad I went back to my old way of doing printing instructions. Having everyone come outside to watch the printing steps. I also got the counselors involved. It was to hot but it was still a good day.

I had brought my leftover Wawa Mac and cheese for lunch but I still went to the lodge because Callie said she would come sit with me. I wouldn't stay the whole hour but I would stay for the first half. But I was tired. And wanted to lay in my hammock and watch videos for a while. And soon my day campers were there.

And this was a very sweet group who would do such a good job. I was nervous though because we got a call that the Y of Maryland president was coming around for a tour. But I put the charm on and I think he was impressed. Heather would bring him up and gave me some props and we would have some of the kids show them some of their work. It was great.

The rest of the day was easy. My tipis kids came to do service hours and I would enjoy chatting with them. Then bontkirchen came and we did some bracelet making and some metal casting. Eva continues to be the best at making pendants and she did such a good job we were both so excited. Though she forgot that the letters need to be backwards so she would remake it and I promised to cast it tomorrow.

My last group was horses. And they did a good job. One of my favorite campers, Jack, was there and was very sweet. Telling me about his year. Honestly it was just nice to chat with all of them.

But then it started thundering. And right at the end of the class we got word we needed to shelter. But the sun was out. And we were confused. The thunder was still happening but no rain.

Once the groups other counselor came back from their break I would bounce. I wanted to beat any rain going home. The first counselor was like "you can't go outside!!" And I was like I can do exactly anything I want. Which was very funny. They would all say good bye and I was out.

I wasn't thrilled to see my commute would be an hour. Traffic was very bad. So I decided to go to target to do some errands before I went home

I would go to the target and got my shampoo and conditioner and body wash. I got a few little things I needed. Some food. A frozen pizza. And then would go home.

But traffic was still very bad. Like I was trapped a mile from home for 16 minutes. It was not fun. Mostly because I was starving. I was eating candy but it was not helping. I just ea fed to go home so bad.

When I did finally get home I brought things inside. And was happy to see Sweetp. And crab cake. And was in a good mood. It was cooler in here which made me really happy.

I would heat up the oven while I put things away.

I decided to do some rearranging of Crabcake's enclosure. Including adding a platform and a ramo. Moving him water dish to the other side of the tank. Just giving him some variety. I would also soak him in warm water while I worked on the rearranging. And he seemed to really enjoy climbing so I was very happy to see him happy.

I would eat dinner after tidying up all the dirt from the tank. And once I was done eating I would prep for my workshop.

It wouldnt take me to long but I am glad I made time for it. Even if I do t know if the workshop is running. I will feel fine with way. If it runs or if it doesn't is fine with me.

I would rest for a while. Do some moving of stuff in the studio. We're planning on moving the wardrobe so just figuring out where things will live. And then I would take a cool bath.

James is at a baseball game. But they should be home soon. I am very ready to sleep. I hope it's a good sleep. And that tomorrow is an easier day. Cooler. And I feel more awake.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of eachother. Good night

[lynxbatics]

I may... have gone insane and started writing a fanfic with Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent at the aftermath of the Wayne family murders. (We need more Bruce and Harvey being best friends content)

Like all comic book writers, I kinda messed with the timeline a bit and made it so that Harvey knew Bruce before his parent's deaths. Bruce and Harvey are supposed to be around eleven years old here.

Anyways here's what I've written so far!!

Alfred could not imagine a more horrible thing.

The Waynes... Martha and Thomas, whom he loved so dearly - gone. He could hardly bear to think of the two of them gunned down in an alleyway, with Bruce unable to do anything to stop it. An awful death for the two people that least deserved it.

The police had arrived much too late, finding Bruce huddled on the ground of the alley, tears streaming down his face and hands gripping his mother's clothes, unable to let go.

They had told Alfred that Bruce was unable to say anything about what had transpired. He hadn't said a word since they had found him.

But Alfred had heard his sobbing at night and that was all he needed to hear.

Rain soaked streets.

The exiting of a theater.

Blood and pearls scattered in the night.

Carried by the rain into the sewers of Gotham.

Gone, just like Bruce's mother and father were.

Alfred shook his head, hoping to clear away the images his brain conjured up at the thought. He did not want to dwell on what Thomas and Martha might have looked in their final moments.

But the Wayne family murders seemed to be the only thing anyone else wanted to talk about. The paparazzi outside of Wayne Manor was proof of that. Dozens of people making camp outside of their home, hoping to get the first look at little Bruce after the tragedy.

It was awful.

It seemed like, to the paparazzi, Bruce Wayne was no more than a character from a film. One who you could watch from a distance. Separate from reality.

Heaven forbid that he was an actual person with feelings, who would be affected by a dozen strangers camping out on his front lawn, asking how he felt about his mother and father having had their brains blown out.

It had gotten so bad that in between the phone calls offering their condolences there were some from reporters hoping to talk to the last remaining Wayne.

Alfred could not fathom how some people thought calling for that was a god idea. The nerve.

He had already disconnect most of the phones. One was left connected, in case of emergencies, but everything else remained unplugged.

It so happened that said phone kept ringing. It angered Alfred greatly. He had already hung up without bothering to check who it was around five times already.

The phone rang again.

Alfred stared at it for a moment, realizing that it would be better to get the phone call over with. He picked it up, trying not to let his irritation show.

"Oh good!" The voice was distorted but relieved, happy to finally have someone pick up the phone. "I've called like a million times already! You kept hanging up!"

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Alfred replied, as dry as possible. His finger hovered over the phone's hook switch.

"Alfred? It's Harvey!" the voice said, disbelieving.

Embarrassment crept into Alfred's cheeks. How had he not recognized Harvey's loud and bombastic tone? He cleared his throat, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry Harvey. What can I do for you?"

"It's alright," Harvey mumbled, "I was calling to ask... well, about Bruce."

He paused, as he prepared to make his next question.

"Is... is he alright?" he asked, voice softer. The question was absurd. Of course Bruce was not doing well. But Alfred realized that Harvey was genuinely worried, but didn't know what to say.

"I... I heard the news. On the bus." Poor boy, Alfred thought, what was a best friend to do in a situation like this?

"Do you think I could talk to him?" Harvey asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that would be a good idea. He's not in the mood to talk to anyone."

"Maybe I could come over?" Harvey prompted, "I could just... be there. He wouldn't need to talk."

Alfred glanced at the hallway, which led to Bruce's room. He wondered wether he would appreciate Harvey coming. He had not been very responsive to Alfred's attempts to coax him out.

"I'm afraid that would be wrong. Bruce's upset and grieving."

"Please. I need to see him." Harvey's tone grew desperate. "I want to be there."

Guilt clawed its way up Alfred's throat.

"Alright."

He heard a rush of air breathed into the phone's receiver. "Thank you Alfred!" He heard muffled talking as Harvey held the phone up to his chest to silence a conversation he was having with someone. After a moment, he spoke, voice clear again, "I can be there in a couple of minutes."

"I'll be on the lookout," Alfred replied, "Careful with the reporters."

He moved the phone away from his ear.

"Reporters?" He heard Harvey's voice rise as he hung up.

Alfred wondered wether he had made the right decision. He knew that Harvey always managed to get Bruce's spirits up, and if there was someone who could get him to talk it was him. Still, he worried that he wouldn't be able to handle it. The Waynes had been like a second family to Harvey. Their death had surely affected him.

He looked at the phone for a moment, wondering if Harvey would actually show up. He figured that he had to be at school, given the hour. Perhaps he had been talking to the principal, asking for permission to cut class.

Alfred shrugged, he had to give him credit for his persistence.

[jellydishes]

a late wip wednesday, tagged by @illusivesoul, tagging @autobot-scout-riella, @palms-upturned, and @aubergion

Rain poured down in a seemingly solid wall of water outside the cave. Bethany watched it instead of listening to the others talk amongst themselves behind her. The relentless rushing pound filled her ears, making it easier to tune them out.

Closer, Carver grunted as he hefted his sword again, and Bethany thought of the only partially closed wounds he'd had upon arriving back at their cabin in Lothering from the battlefield. She'd done her best to help heal them at the time, but she had never been the best healer, and they hadn't had time to focus on them again afterwards until it was too late. The wounds had healed the way they wanted instead of the way they should've, and aches and scars had set in.

Carver grunted, and she worried her braid between her hands instead of looking at him. There was guilt, compounded by the voice of her mother telling her in no uncertain terms that she'd been unreasonable during this whole trip.

Bethany's mouth pressed into a thin line, and she tightened her grip on that thread of anger woven through everything she had said and done lately. She would never have admitted to it out loud, but the tiniest curl of resentment for her mother bloomed in her chest at the thought. It was cold, but not in a way that numbed; it burned, like walking barefoot through the snow. Like any of her memories associated with her father or Miri, anymore. Like so many things, it had been tainted. And she was afraid.

She was afraid of following that tiny sprouting feeling, afraid of finding out how deep it went, but neither was she willing to bury it completely.

Not again.

Not yet.

Instead, she shook her head when she heard Varric ask, "You doing all right? We don't have to go further yet if you aren't ready. The mountaintop isn't going anywhere."

Merrill started to speak at once, but Bethany cut her off by saying impatiently, "You don't have to check on me. I'm not a child. You can trust that once I've made a decision, I have thought it through."

Varric didn't answer her, but Merrill did. Bethany expected more mockery or judgment, but Merrill simply said, "We should camp here until the morning. Hurrying won't do us any good if we slide right off the rain slick rocks and have nothing to catch us but the sky, would it?"

"I do agree with your point, but the bottom of a cliff would in fact catch us," Alistair responded. "They're rather famous for doing that."

Bethany made a sharp, irritated noise by sucking between her teeth, but she couldn't argue the point. It was already growing dark, on top of the dangers offered from the rain. She turned away from the entrance and began to pace.

One revolution of the cave became two, then five, then ten.

She could hear the others putter around the cave entrance setting up camp. Heard, because she wasn't looking. Bethany knew she should join them and she would, soon, but it was becoming very difficult to fight past the feeling building between her ribs. It might have been guilt or shame or yet more anger, but it didn't really matter. She didn't want to examine it any more than she wanted to feel it, and every rotation around the cramped cavern made it choke her more and more and more.

She had just clenched her hands with the determination to begin helping when she was stopped as Carver came to stand beside her, bumping his shoulder against her own as he settled in much closer than she expected or wanted him to. Bethany went stiff and tense at first and almost started to draw away from him, but a sudden exhaustion overcame her before she could even finish the movement. She sagged against him, and closed her eyes with a shudder as his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

It has been a long time since they'd hugged each other like this, since anyone had. She tried not to think of the last people who had, or of how Carver and she had used to hug each other all the time, or why that had changed. Her arm slowly came up to cling to the front of his vest.

For a little while, he didn't say anything and neither did she. The seconds dragged on and he didn't pull away and he didn't pull away, and something snapped inside her. Bethany let out a noise, and still neither of them spoke. That soft, soft thing in her chest that felt like a bruised apple ached like it was her own ribs collapsing, instead of something she clung to for artificial support. That noise turned high, and she still wasn't looking at him. Couldn't bear to, now more than ever.

When Carver finally did break the silence, it was to say, "I would say that you are the most frustrating person I have ever met, but we both know that isn't true."

Bethany squeezed her eyes tighter, but couldn't help letting out a wavering laugh. "It isn't," she agreed. "That was- it-"

He waited for an ending that wasn't coming before he sighed and tightened his grip around her. "...I wish I knew what to say to you. Some perfect combination of words that would help instead of making things worse," he said into her hair. He drew in a breath like he was going to say more, but only sighed and shook his head before pulling away. "Come on. Can't sleep if we don't put down bedrolls to slap our faces into."

[familylightfox]

@emeraldtied asked:

It was rare a storm was so bad that it knocked out the power in the village, but that's exactly the situation the family found themselves in that evening. The rain was relentless, and the sky was lit up with lightning every few seconds, it seemed. But it had thrown a bit of a wrench into their usual routine of watching television, and it didn't take long for Arrow to announce one very obvious thing: "I'm bored."

So much for the movie they'd been watching. Harmony mildly jumped when the house was suddenly sent into complete darkness, although some of that could also have been blamed on the loud crack of thunder that echoed inside their home now that the family sat in silence. While the teen had, mostly, outgrown her issue with these types of storms, Volt wasn't too surprised to see her scoot closer to the couch where the couple sat.

Reaching down, he placed a hand on her head and smiled when she looked up at them.

The soft glow of their necklaces provided at least some light that didn't come from between their closed curtains. A moment passed before he sat up and entered the hallway closet. The sounds of fabric being moved about ended with Volt returning with his old camping lantern and a pack of playing cards.

"Rummy or Go Fish?" He tossed the cards to his husband to shuffle and lit the lantern with a tiny spark from one finger before setting it in the middle of the coffee table. It was one way to beat the boredom and distract from the turbulent weather outside.

[pandasmagorica]

1st re-watch: Eternal Yesterday episode 8 (finale)

(To read from the beginning, please see 1st re-watch: Eternal Yesterday Episode 1)

I'm bawling my eyes out. The ending is both beautiful and devastatingly sad. And Mitsuru's father, who has seemed distant until now, really comes through as a caring father.

We open with the sound of the rain outside. The sound is not delayed the way it was in the first episode. But we are inside, and it is in the background, as Koichi and Mitsuru are in Mitsuru's bedroom, sitting on opposite sides of Mitsuru's bed.

I've written before that when we don't get the NC-17 scenes, it's not necessarily clear what has happened. With sex in Bad Buddy, it wasn't clear to me when they started having sex or who was taking the lead before the sex in episode 11 if they were having sex earlier. And I had some similar confusion in Eternal Yesterday as well.

Spoilers follow

I noted in an earlier episode review my discomfort at what appeared to be dubious consent. And, because of the cut, we didn't see how far they went. But at the start of 8, we have them both say this is their first time. So, aside from sex being such a large category that it doesn't necessarily have to involve penetration, so we can still say they probably had some manner of sex in the earlier episode, this is apparently their first (and last) intercourse. And it is a way of them saying goodbye forever (to be in person with each other) and to cement their dedication to each other.

So, rather than being a wild event (which Koichi's body would not be up to anyway) it is almost certainly infused with grief and sadness, and love. Again, there is a cut. We are told they kissed and kissed and became one. That's fine with me. I don't have to see the sex, I just want to have some idea of what happened.

Actually, it's a little unclear, as it seemed they already had intercourse between the pre-roll and post opening credits. But the difference is that the first is before Koichi basically asks Mitsuru to let Koichi fully die and the second is after they have come to the understanding that Koichi does get to fully die.

During this, Mitsuru as narrator acknowledges to us that he has been the one keeping Koichi "alive." He apologizes to Koichi in the narration but can't bring himself to say it out loud.

And then Koichi, in tears says he can't do this living corpse thing any more. It is devastating.

Inoue Sora, the actor playing Mitsuru, does this thing with a nose twitch, as if Mitsuru is trying to gather up the strength to do right by Koichi. And he does. He turns to face Koichi, tells Koichi it's okay, and promises to remember him for the rest of Mitsuru's life.

Mitsuru indicates he wants to kiss, and they do kiss. It's not the intense, active kiss in Bad Buddy episode 5, not even close. It's quite simple. But it is very intentional and I would argue it is not in any way a dead fish kiss.

Koichi says "Mitchan, let's make love" (making the earlier "my first time" scene ambiguous) and Mitsuru nods in assent. Consent! Yay!

We see the next morning Mitsuru and his father in the kitchen/dining area. Mitsuru's father tells Mitsuru about his wife's/Mitsuru's mother's death and some matters surrounding his upbringing. He then makes it clear (in that roundabout way I understand is popular in the Japanese language) that he's aware that Koichi was a living corpse, and that the same thing happened to Mitsuru's mother.

He then basically tells Mitsuru he can be in pain over Koichi's death as long as he wishes. This is a loving dad who both accepts his son's gayness and cares about Mitsuru's loss, and places the dad in the pantheon of caring parents of QL queers. Mitsuru breaks down sobbing as his father pats him gently on the head and goes off to work.

We jump to five years later. Mitsuru revisits places that he and Koichi went to, including the camping trip. He is camping for two, and this is his solo version of the two of them camping as adults that we have been seeing in the closing credits for the entire series. We realize that what we saw in the credits is what Mitsuru sees in his mind as how life would be like if Koichi were still with him.

He takes out a photo Tanaka took of Koichi and Mitsuru in the biology classroom, a photo that shouldn't exist but does (as noted by @chickenstrangers in Time and Grief in Eternal Yesterday). And he says that, despite Koichi's wish that he might have two number ones, Koichi is still and will always be Mitsuru's only number one.

Will he wind up like Tanaka, unable to stay in a relationship because he is carrying a torch for his dead lover? Or will he be like his father, who eventually finds a new love? We don't get to see. I imagine it will be a challenge, given that Mitsuru is socially queer as well, although he is apparently still in touch with his classmates.

What we do see in the last 4 to 5 minutes is Koichi's side of the story, about his background, of his starting his relationship with Mitsuru. And his kiss goodbye as he is about to leave to place his dead body in the field where he landed after being hit by that truck.

And we go to the closing credits where we see them together five years later, on the camping trip in Mitsuru's mind.

A fine, fine series, even if I couldn't always understand it.

With the content warning for subject matter, those wound-stitching scenes, and that it's a total tearjerker, highly recommended.

[kakusu-shipping]

i read your post about leshy not realizing kaycee's fate and everything and GOD MY HEART OWCH OWIE ITS ANGST HOURS TONIGHT OWE OWE OW????

i already loved this man and now my heart is crying

how dare. oh, the only remedy that can heal this grievous wound is to hear about your headcanons on this winkly tree man u.u

(hope youre doing well by the way)

-redacted-scrybe

@redacted-scrybe Big same bestie, I think about Leshy and Kaycee every day now

Sorry for the wound, I shall patch it with softer Leshy thoughts, I have many all of the time anyway

I am in the camp of deer in headlights Leshy

Stands with his hands raptor clawed to his chest when outside his comfort zone, which is almost everywhere

He's either completely mentally checked out or hyper aware of every movement like a prey animal

VERY jumpy. A single loud noise sends him in three fit in the air. He could watch a glass fall off a shelf and the shatter would still startle him

Grimora takes extreme advantage of this, she adores bullying him with loud noises or suddenly touching him when he's not expecting it

ZOOMIES!!!!!!!!!!

Especially during big storms. Lighting!!! Thunder!! Rain!!! Mud!!!

The electric feeling he gets is uncontrollable he has to run all though the forest during storms

He'll come back when the rain stops soaking wet and covered in mud and still just a little buzzy

When not in GM mode he has a stutter when speaking, it gets worse the faster he tries to talk, he talks faster the more anxious he is

No stutter when info dumping though

You can tell by my multitude of Leshy X Readers that I fully believe he is in love with his player and this continues to stand

He loves them. Romantic, platonic, familial, or some indistinguishable mix of them all, he cannot tell, but he loves them more than anything else

He has a tail. It wags. He thinks it's embarrassing and ruins his scary villain aesthetic

He really really really wants to be the bad guy in a story let him be the villain ignore his cute little muttering he is the evil mastermind of this sick twisted game!

I think the headcanon of him slam dunking Grizzlies is common but what about him babying the shit out of Grizzlies?

Like yes he COULD suplex a 600 pound Grizzly, but he could also cradle it gently and give it head scratches and kiss it good night

He probably wouldn't do that though; I think he thinks very highly of his beasts

He does not see himself as their lord, simply their scrybe, he does not command or rule the beasts, he knows them, and tells others of them

His biggest pride and joy is his wolfs packs. There's currently 5 packs in his woods, each averaging 7-10 strong.

They are what he would consider the lords of his woods. They make the rules, and he follows

He will however brood the shit out of any orphans the Trapper brings him, if he can't find a surrogate mother

Catch him with a litter of racoon kits in his beard

On that note he's done the same thing with caterpillars

They are nesting they are eating they are sleeping and they are metamorphosing in his beard and he will not disturb them

Leshy soaks up water like a sponge he is a tree and can get very bloated and waterlogged after a rainstorm

He has to spend a full day in direct sunlight after that or he risks some of his limbs rotting

Which isn't a big deal but it can be a pain to regrow

Even more of a pain though is the new growth he'll have after absorbing so much nutrients

He looks like a taller Magnificus if he just lets it all grow out

Leshy likes to wander while thinking and doesn't really pay attention to where he's going

Luckily he's memorized every inch of his woods and never gets lost while at home

But if he's anywhere else he will wander himself away and get horribly lost

He'll also walk directly into things because he may be looking ahead but he is not seeing he is thinking

Full John Mulany "I am looking out the window. But no. I'm thinking about the Beatles."

Has just has the worst tunnel vision

You could stand right next to him and he will simply not see you he is thinking about his game and his lore

Also he purrs if you pet him but he's not use to physical affection so he panics at contact and it'll take him a moment to settle into it

[lover-i-lover]

The rain

There a loud knock on my door. I whine as the sound comes again, "Come in" I yell, turning on my side, snuggling into my comforter. The light rain is tapping on the window, I'm always very sleepy and whiney when it rains. I think it might be a son of Jupiter thing. Nico comes through the door, he shakes a wet umbrella outside then sets it down by my door. He sighs as he sees me. "Why are you still in bed? It's noon" He asks, annoyance creeping at his tone. I whine, I know it's noon. But the rain is so calming, I can't get out of bed. "Are you-Oh, the rain" He chuckles. I glance op at him, he's a little wet from the rain. I shiver a little, it's not like my cabin's really cold, but it's a little chilly. Nico walks over, trying to pull the covers off me. I whine and yank it back from him. "Come on sparky, you should get op" "Look who's talking" I mumble. Nico gently shoves me. "Ha ha, get up" He sighs. "But's it's raining" I whine, grabbing for his hand like a kid. I gasp his wrist and pull him down. "Hey!" He yelps. Nico crashes down, landing over me. He lands with an arm on each side of me. "Cuddle with me" I plead. The rain outside picks op, banging against the windows. Nico props himself up in front of me. "No" He groans. He pushes himself up from my bed. "Please, it's cold and it's raining. You know how I get" Nico sighs, and glances out the window. Looking at the now very heavy rain. He jumps as there's a lightning strike. Without a word he shed's his jacket. "Do you have clothes I could borrow? I'm wet" I smile happily and point to my dresser. "Take whatever you want" I mumble. Nico hates lightning, he can not stand it, he can get very scared. So whenever it rains, and the lightning comes around, we both get what we want. I know why he get's scared of it, but, I'd rather not bring it op. I watch as Nico strips off his wet clothes, laying them down on the floor to dry.

He stands in his underwear, looking through my dresser for something dry to wear. He ends up finding an old, smaller pair of sweatpants I don't wear anymore, and a Camp Jupiter shirt that I wear when I'm over there. Just as Nico's crawling into bed with me, there's another lightning strike and he tenses up. I lay my hand on his. And he relaxes under my touch. He takes a deep breath, and lays down with me. I wrap my arms around him, and snuggle my head on the top of his. Nico shifts down and lays his head in the crook of my neck. I relax my arms down his back, he snuggles into my neck. There's another lightning strike and he tenses up again. "I got you" I murmur giving him a light squeeze. He relaxes taking a deep breath in, then out. "Yeah" He mumbles into my neck. I twist my head, smelling his slightly damp hair. It smells of fresh rain, one of the greatest smells I know. I love rain, in every way. He muses, happy to be in my arms while the storm rages on outside. I bury my nose in his hair, breathing in the wonderful scent. The pitter patter of the rain against the windows has always been a lullaby for me. When I first came here, there was something about it, it felt and still feels like home. I think it might have been from sleeping outside when I was little. Nico shifts a little, brushing his lips over my neck, I shiver at the cold contact. He kisses the spot under my jaw then relaxes, then he snuggles back into the crook of my neck. I hum, happy to have this again. I so rarely get to see this side of him, so I have to cherish it when I do get to see it. I smile to myself, I gently sneak a hand under his shirt, well my shirt, technically. But you know what I mean. I place my hand on his lower back and he sighs happily, shifting his hips a little to get more comfortable. I groan a little and squeeze him to keep him more still.

He settles on me, the lightning outside not bothering him anymore. I love this, I love having this with him. The rain outside is heavy, the wind's going wild. This is the best way to spend a day, to cuddle op in bed with my boyfriend. I shift down a little. Normally I have to beg Nico to spend the day in bed with me on a rainy day. But the second lightning starts, he jumps to join to me. It's cute, but almost sad, when I remember why, he does. Oh fuck it, you know, I know, let's just get this out there. He's scared of thunder because Zeus killed his mom with a lightning strike when he was little. And, I feel some sort of guilt for it. I've been told I shouldn't, but I do. No matter how many people tell me it wasn't my fault, I will still feel a little guilty, I know it wasn't my fault, but that hasn't changed my feelings. And that's just the reality for me, Nico's told me that I shouldn't feel guilty for it, because I wasn't born, But I can't help it. The guy's still my dad, my dad, killed his mom. And that's fucked up, it fucking is. I know that, he knows that. How am I supposed to not feel guilty for that. I swear, I'm working on that. I try to relax back into the mattress. Focusing on the nice weight of Nico on top of me. I snuggle my nose into his hair. Breath in the nice rainy smell, he'll want a shower before he leaves. He'll often tell me I smell of rain, even when it hasn't rained in weeks. There's a small mumbling, right, he talks in his sleep. Oh, He's sleeping. He fell asleep. I lean my head back, letting myself relax into the pillow. With the calming weight of my Nico, my Darling, on top of me, my eyes grow heavy. I close my eyes, I'm still sleepy, a small nap won't hurt. Everything is heavy, the rain outside is soothing, like a pat on the back. I lay under Nico for a while, tired but unable to sleep. I peak my eyes open, looking at window. When did I crack open the window. It's open on the first hook, so not even an inch, but it's cold and raining.

Lucky Nico didn't see that, he would have refused to sleep in here if I didn't close it. He normally doesn't mind open windows, but not while it's raining, then they have to be closed. My eyelids are too heavy, and they fall close again. I wake up to a loud whipping sound, I groan and look over at the window. The rain is violently crashing against my windows. Nico not on top of me anymore, maybe he's left, or he's just rolled off me, I haven't cheeked yet. There's a very loud lightning strike, and there's a whimper from my left. I look over, seeing a still asleep Nico laying in the fetal position beside me. I gently shake his shoulder, yawning. He stirs, blinking his eyes open to see me. A half asleep Nico, moves back onto me, laying his ear to my heart. I wrap my arms around him, pressing him tightly against me. I kiss the top of his head. I'm sleepy, Nico's sleepy. I guess half asleep cuddles are the plans for the rest of the day. The rain crashes down outside, it's too loud. I shift slightly, whining at the loud sounds. "Mhm?" Nico leans his head up to look at me. "It's too loud" I mumble. "Mhm" he murmurs, shifting until he's got his arms laid op by my ears. He gently presses them to my ear, quieting the noise outside. I hum happily at the damping sensation. Nico smiles at me, then snuggles into my chest. He shifts a bit. I shift a little. "Thanks" I whisper. We lay like that for a while, half asleep, snuggling, and just enjoying the rain. Well, I'm enjoying the rain, Nico's enjoying the rare hours of sleep and relaxation we get to have together. "Jacey" A sleepy Nico drums his fingers on my head. "Mhm" I murmur, blinking to keep my eyes open while he talks. "Can we do this more?" He twists his head up, looking at me. "Happily" I chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. Nico leans up, joining our lips in a happy kiss. I smile, happily gazing into his eyes. He smiles back at me, eyes droopy with sleep.

"I love our rainy days"

[licopom]

What about their first confession to each other? I'd like to hear more about it. Or maybe something on the theme of Dark Enchantress forbidding their romantic relationship?

WOOO FINALLY DONE WITH THIS ONE

I love both of these prompts and I hope u don't mind me combining them both into one fic!

I had a lot of fun writing this although I'm a little worried about it being OOC again. I think that's just something I'm always going to be afraid of, though. Also I finally got to do that thing fanfic authors do where they name it after a song. This is inspired by LOVELESS WORLD by μ’s. I'm a big fan of weeb music and this song helped me a lot with this fic

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Loveless World

CW: just a lot of mutual pining and angst, no happy ending on this one my friends (or frivals)

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The harsh wind bit into Licorice's skin, cutting through the fabric of his usually protective robes. If it was just the wind, he could have survived. The cold raindrops soaked through the weathered fabric, making his arms shake and his teeth chatter. Even still, if it was just the wind and the rain, Licorice could have survived. Lightning and thunder resounded outside of the small camp he was sitting at, sending shivers down his spine. Despite all of that, if Licorice was alone, he could have managed. If only he could have been alone.

Looking over at Pomegranate, his heart sank. Her head was buried in her knees, her small body trembling slightly. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold rain or the loud noises the thunder kept making. It was pathetic, he knew, yet all he wanted to do was reach over and pull her into his arms, to make her feel warm and safe again. To do something, anything, useful to her. But he couldn't. If it was just because Pomegranate would refuse him, that would be okay by him. He could live with her not loving him, he could move on. But she did love him, and he knew it. And Dark Enchantress would have absolutely none of it.

"You keep staring." Her soft voice murmured. It had felt like ages since he had heard it address him. Even this small act, her acknowledging his existence, drove him deeper into madness. But Licorice couldn't reveal his true thoughts just yet. It would only hurt the both of them, to admit how much he pined after her. Sighing, he nodded. "Sorry. I... You looked cold. I'm just making sure you don't get sick or anything." He didn't have the passion in him to even be angry at her. Despite the cold wall he put up, all Licorice wanted was to be kind to her once again, to see her smile again.

Pomegranate just buried her head deeper into her legs. "Stop it." He looked away. "S-Sorry, I... I didn't mean to-" He was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder, as if the universe itself was trying to separate them. They couldn't even talk to each other? Once again, Pomegranate spoke up. "It would... It would be best if we stayed silent. Just like we have been. We shouldn't... Do this." Licorice sighed. "I know, but... I just- I want to be selfish. I want to talk to you, at the very least."

His confession was met with silence. "Sorry. That was stupid of me." Once again, Pomegranate didn't respond. It was just them, stopped by the storm, sitting so close yet so far from each other. Licorice risked another glance at her. She was trembling even more now. Fuck it, he had been selfish enough already. "You're shaking so much now. Can... Can I...?" She lifted her head, her eyes softer. "Licorice... I-I'm fine." He just sighed. "I can't just sit here and watch you like this. It doesn't- It doesn't have to mean anything. I just want to-"

"Fine. It... It means nothing, though. We are still obeying Dark Enchantress' orders." His heart both rose and sank at the same time. She would let him hold her again. But... At the same time he was reminded the truth of the situation. This was not going to last. Dark Enchantress had forbidden any sort of relationship between them. As much as Licorice wanted to throw everything away for her, Pomegranate was smarter. Her loyalty to Dark Enchantress couldn't be shaken, even now. "...Right. Nothing. This means nothing." He lied.

Scooting closer, he tried to calm his heart rate. Just feeling her warmth next to her was enough to get his hopes up again. Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. He felt something inside of him break a little. It felt so nice, so wonderful to hold her like this. To be able to shield her from everything and make her feel better. It also felt awful, because he knew this would never happen again. Pomegranate would never make the same mistake twice. She would never allow them to come this close again if it meant half as much to her as it did to him.

She relaxed against him, making his heart beat faster. This was all he wanted. This. Just being able to hold her. Appreciate her. And yet, for some reason, he couldn't have it. It wasn't like Pomegranate didn't want it either. So, what was the problem? Why couldn't they just be together? What about them was so awful that Dark Enchantress couldn't allow it?

"Licorice." Pomegranate spoke up, her voice softer than usual. "Why... Why are you...?" The shakiness in her voice made his heart melt. Was it really that cold out? He pulled her closer, trying his best to warm her with what little body heat he had. "What's wrong?" He asked gently, reaching up a hand to stroke her hair. The coldness of it made him inhale sharply, his hands working quickly to unravel the buns her scarlet locks were tied into. Her soaked hair draped elegantly across her shoulders. Even now, she was beautiful.

"Why are... Why are you so nice, still? You have nothing to gain. You know there is nothing to gain. So why... Why do you...?" He sighed, moving his hand up to run through her hair. "I do have something to gain, you know. I just want to see you happy. Not... Not lonely." He felt her pull back, lifting her head to look at him. "...Lonely?" Licorice nodded. "Do you remember? The day we found out we loved each other?" He closed his eyes.

The two sat next to each other in the forests behind Dark Enchantress' lair. Sunlight poked through the treetops, illuminating Pomegranate's figure. They were having a picnic, just the two of them. He wasn't sure why, but doing things like this felt natural with her, even though they had such a heated rivalry. Maybe that was part of it. There is no one you want to understand better than your enemy, after all. Perhaps that is why the atmosphere between the two felt so relaxed.

Pomegranate looked up from her sandwich, her ruby eyes focusing on him. He wasn't sure why, but it made him blush a bit, being the center of her attention. "These are good." A smile crept up on his face, warmth blooming in his chest. "W-Well, it's only natural since I made them, right?" A soft laugh escaped from her. "Perhaps if they were a failure, sure." Licorice frowned, just making her laugh more. He couldn't help but relax at the sound, his anger quickly washing away. "Well, I couldn't disappoint. I knew I was making them for you, after all."

He could see a bit of confusion on her face. "What do you mean by that?" The warmth spread even more, making his cheeks burn up a little. "W-Well, I... You have high standards, I guess." She closed her eyes. "That I do. Though..." Opening them again, she stared wistfully off into the distance. "I don't mind lowering them for you. I enjoy this... These times we have together. I feel a little... A little less lonely with you." ...Lonely? Licorice didn't understand. He never really took Pomegranate as the type to get lonely. "What do you mean?" She looked down at her sandwich, her smile growing into a frown.

"I... Well, I guess what I mean is... I never really had anyone by my side before. As a priestess to the pomegranate tree, as a servant to Dark Enchantress... I thought companionship was just something I didn't desire. But being with you, I... I feel happy. You're my rival, but... Perhaps I also see you as my friend." Licorice's blush grew in intensity. Friends...? With Pomegranate? "Well... I don't mind being your friend and rival, I guess. Y-Your frival." Again, Pomegranate just laughed. "Frival? Seriously?" He huffed. "You got a problem with it?"

She shook her head. "No. Just... You're funny as usual, Licorice." He couldn't help but smile at the insult/compliment. "Hmph. I'm always hilarious. And good-looking. And strong, and-" He felt a playful nudge to his ribcage. "That's enough, Licorice." Pomegranate teased, smiling at him. Something awoke within him. He... He wanted this. Just him and Pomegranate, him making her smile. He wanted to take away the loneliness she felt, to make her feel open like she was in private with him. He felt himself speak without even thinking.

"I love you."

His face turned a bright red. What? What?! Did... Did he love her? Did he just admit that to her?! With no hesitation?! Oh gods, what she must be thinking of him right now...! Looking over at her, his heart sank. She was looking at the ground, her expression blank. Quickly! He had to say something quickly, before she- "You feel... I... I think..." Her gaze turned up to him, her expression for the most part her normal blank stare, except for a slight blush on her cheeks. "I don't understand love, but... I really like being with you. I feel comfortable around you. Like I haven't felt with anyone else. I'm not even sure love exists in this world but... If it does, I think this has to be it... Right?"

Licorice didn't know what to say. Luckily, his mouth was excellent at speaking without asking. "I... Do you..." He stumbled over his words. Luckily, Pomegranate got the memo. She grabbed his hand, looking away. "If you want to... I... I don't mind if we... You know. Are a thing." She sank into herself a bit, her blush getting worse. Licorice was going to die! She was so cute! Looking in the opposite direction, he nodded. "S-Sure. I mean... Yes. I want to. A- A lot. Like, really-" Again, she laughed, washing all of his worries away. Looking at her, he couldn't help but smile. He would do anything to protect that smile, that laugh. To make her happy.

He held her hands in his, smiling. "I love you."

The idyllic scenery and the warm spring air faded into the cold autumn rain. Pomegranate's smile faded into her emotionless expression, one that he knew was hiding so much beneath it. "That day... When you told me you were lonely... I wanted nothing more than to be the one to take it all away. I still feel that way, even now. So I... I have a lot to gain. If it makes you happy like you were back then, I'll do it." Her head just fell back into his chest. "Stop it, please. Every time you are nice, it... It hurts me." As much as he wanted to be hurt, Licorice knew she was right. He was hurting them both. Pomegranate would never smile like that again for him, and she could never accept his love.

He couldn't stop the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks. Licorice was tired of it. Tired of pining after her, of having to watch them drift apart like this. Pomegranate having to be alone again. Dammit, he could live with the pain of losing her if she was still happy. But she wasn't. When was the last time he saw her smile? Was it that day, before Dark Enchantress had torn everything they had together apart? He would give anything to see her smile again. But unfortunately, this was their fate. There was no spell he could cast, no enemy he could defeat that would bring those days back.

"If..." Pomegranate spoke quietly, her voice muffled by his robes. "If we are reborn... I hope you will forgive me for such a selfish request, but... I would love to find you again. To be with you again. And this time... I want to be the one that makes you happy. Our souls may not be able to meet again in this life, but... I can dream of us being happy in another one, can't I?" He pulled her closer. "Of course. I... I want the same thing."

Silently, the two held each other, barely protecting the other from the unceasing rain. Soon, they would have to leave each other's arms and pretend nothing happened, that they hadn't confirmed they felt just as strongly about each other. Even if they didn't say I love you, they knew it. This small kindness they showed towards each other... It meant everything. Closing his eyes, Licorice couldn't help but think back to what she said. Pomegranate was always the wiser one of the two. Perhaps she was on to something about love not existing in this world.

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Thank you for reading! And again sorry if this one isn't very good, I think I'm starting to get sick again :) which is just absolutely lovely

[haledamage]

@queen-scribbles I'm holding onto the ask until I finish the other one ;)

petrichor - the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of dry weather ❤ Nadia/Kurt (pre-relationship but well into the mutual interest phase) featuring Vasco bringing some big brother energy

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"Oh good! Looks like the rain stopped." Vasco announced with an unnecessary amount of drama as they stepped out from under the tree canopy and into a clearing. There was no way to tell how much of the “rain” that had been soaking them for the last hour was fresh and how much had just taken its time getting to them through the thick foliage. "I guess we don’t have to sleep in the mud tonight after all."

Nadia patted him on the arm in commiseration as she moved past him to scale the stone outcropping they were hoping would be dry enough to camp on for the night. "Sorry to disappoint you, Vasco."

He took her proffered hand and let her help him up the wall. "I’m sure we’ll find some dark grungy cave tomorrow and you can make it up to me."

She chuckled as he surveyed their would-be campsite with a scowl, looking a bit like an angry, tattooed, half-drowned rat. "You really hate being landlocked, don’t you?"

"In some ways, it’s not as bad as I expected." He took his hat off and flipped it over, dumping water onto his boots. "In others, it’s much worse."

He stomped off to get a fire started as she helped the rest of their group up too, except Siora who left with a nod to go hunting. Kurt went last, as he always did, making sure the others didn't fall and wordlessly refusing any help for himself.

Once everyone was up, Nadia took her hat off too and shook the water off the brim. It had made a valiant attempt at keeping her head dry, and while it had succeeded in keeping the rain out of her face, her hair was damp and heavy. She took the hat between her teeth to free up both hands and started disassembling her braid.

“Let me help you with that.” Before she could reply, she felt rough fingers gently push her hands away as Kurt started to unpin the braid from its crown. She stood still and let him work. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped with it - he was surprisingly good at braiding hair, though she’d been sworn to secrecy about that fact - and she trusted him to know what to do.

She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it, a smile growing on her face as she breathed in the scent of the clearing they’d chosen to camp in. Petrichor lingering from the earlier rain, sweetness from nearby wildflowers, woodsmoke from the campfire, worn leather and steel from the man at her back, a whiff of the ocean that told her Vasco lingered somewhere nearby. Teer Fradee was alive around her, joyfully so, and she reveled in it.

“I’ve missed that smile of yours, Green Blood,” Kurt said softly, bringing her out of her reverie. Nadia turned towards him enough to see his face without disrupting what he was doing, and he paused long enough to brush his knuckle over the corner of the smile in question. “Haven’t seen you smile like that since your mother got sick. This place has been good for you.”

Her smile grew even more. “Less the place and more the company, I think.”

“Well, I know you don’t mean me.” He finished unplaiting her hair and ran his fingers through it a few times, both to wring some of the water out of it and as an excuse to avoid her eyes. “You had me then too.”

“Not like I do now.” He’d always been good at keeping her at arm’s length, friendly but not quite friends, especially the last few years. But that had changed since they’d boarded the ship to Teer Fradee, and seemed to change a little more every day.

“Perhaps.” His brow knotted as he considered her words, like he was trying to find a hidden meaning behind them. She couldn’t tell if he liked the implications or not.

“If it helps ease that furrow in your brow, I can’t give you all the credit.” She reached up and swept her thumb over his brow, smoothing away the frown only for it to be replaced by surprise, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s this island. I never in my wildest dreams would have pictured that a place like this existed in the world.” She paused, tapping her chin, and her smile sharpened to a wry grin. “Well, maybe in my really wild dreams. I do have a very active imagination.”

Kurt chuckled, a warm rasp of sound. “You really know how to ruin a moment, Nadia.”

“It was worth it to make you laugh.” Nadia had to fight to keep her footing, unsure if she wanted to shy away from the way he looked at her then or lean closer to bask in it. “I’ve missed your laugh. I thought you’d left it in Sérène.”

“So did I.” His hand finally stilled in her hair but didn’t fall away, resting carefully on the back of her head. “You’ve always been good at bringing it out of me.”

“My dear Kurt, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She meant for it to be playful, but it came out barely above a whisper.

He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Give me time. I can do better.”

A loud groan sounded from nearby as Vasco lowered himself to a log that he’d claimed as a chair. Nadia and Kurt leapt away from each other simultaneously. She met the Naut’s innocent grin with the best glare she could muster, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t let me interrupt. As ye were.”

Kurt mumbled, “I should go see to the tents,” and left, not looking at either of them. If Nadia didn’t know better, she could swear that his ears and the back of his neck were a little red.

“Sorry, Nadi,” Vasco lied. “Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“Yes you did,” she grumbled, pouting childishly as she flopped down on a log of her own. She opened her bag to find her collection of herbs and dried mushrooms, hoping to get something going for dinner and also trying not to let her eyes follow Kurt across camp. She could still feel the echo of that last touch against her cheek.

And she could tell by his smug smirk that Vasco knew it. “Maybe a little. Might want to take that outside the camp next time, if you don’t want an audience. Just say you’re goin’ for a walk. Works every time.”

Nadia struggled to maintain a proper pout as her smile broke through. “Well, I was going to take you to some hot springs tomorrow that Siora told me are nearby, but I don’t think you deserve a hot spring anymore, dear Captain.”

“I beg your forgiveness, Your Excellency,” he teased, dipping into as deep of a bow as he could while sitting down. “Next time I just won’t let ye know I’m watchin’.”

Kurt turned back toward the fire at the sound of Nadia’s laughter, watching her light up with it, smile wide and easy, eyes bright, hair falling in gentle waves down her back. He committed the image to memory along with the warmth that bloomed in his chest from the sight, then turned back to his work.

[eivorsjawline]

TW: almost? vomit, and gore.

Finally, you find out what lies in the box. You tell Eivor the truth of where you’re from and she confesses her truths to you. When the conversation is nearly done, reinforcements come to inform Eivor of an invasion in the camp.

Chapter 4: Like a Stone

Readers POV

Another morning, waking up alone. Only the reminiscence of last night lingering on my mind.

My blurry eyes kept lingering on the spot of the lockbox. Determined to find the key, I searched under Eivor’s bed to find nothing. Searching behind shields, and rummaging through drawers. I noticed Eivor left her dirty laundry on the floor from last night. Rearranging the clothes and turning them inside out, I found a bundle of keys attached to one of Eivor’s tunic strings.

No more secrets, Eivor…

With a guilty conscience, I took a deep breath and gathered the courage to insert the key into the lockbox. Turning the key slowly, I opened the box to see an arrangement of torn pages and crumpled letters. The name, “Randvi” at the top of each one.

“From Randvi, my dearest love…”

The dates and elegant cursive writing lining the pages, an array of Eivor’s life before I stepped into her world.

My stomach sank and I felt like I needed to vomit. They were together for years, even while Sigurd and Randvi were still eloped. Dried out flowers that I assumed they exchanged while sharing time with one another, and the details of their passionate love affair all revealed to me in the letters that I couldn’t stop reading. They spoke of their travels together, and how much they yearned for one another's bodies.

Stopping myself, and placing my hand over my mouth I fought the urge to fetch up everything I ate last night. Every word Randvi said to me echoed in my head and the disruption from last night all began to add up. My mind creating visions in my head and the realization that I could never possibly compare to Randvi, or mean what she does to Eivor. Quickly, I placed the lockbox back where it belonged.

All I wanted to do was hide from the world but I forced myself to get ready for the long day ahead of me. Stumbling into a cream colored tunic, I noticed Eivor laid out a pair of pants for me today. I put them on and then a red overshirt followed, the long puffy sleeves of my tunic popping out. I laced up my shoes, ready to face the now bustling longhouse.

Stuffing a few grapes in my mouth, I made an attempt at fixing my hair and stepped out the doorway. Unsure of where I was headed, I let my feet guide me. Randvi consulting with a few warriors could be seen in the distance, thankfully she didn’t notice me.

A familiar voice called my name in the distance, none other than Eivor’s. Doing a little jog towards me, her heavy armor made shuffling sounds. Instantaneously, she pulled me in for a kiss with a comment on how beautiful I looked today.

“Goodmorning, sleepyhead. Meet me by my horse just outside the door, I'll be with you soon, I forgot something in my room.”

Unsure of whether or not I should confront her, my mind worried that she’ll notice some kind of disarray.

Fuck, I still have her keys on me.

Too late to go back now, I headed out the door to be greeted by Eivor’s noble steed. Forming my hand in a fist, I let the horse get familiar with my scent before brushing Its long dark coat and giving a pat on the side of the neck. A broad bearded man approached me.

“Well, If it isn't the witch that cast a spell on my good friend Eivor! Follow me and I’ll make a true drengr out of you.” He said before tossing a bow at me.

“The name is Gunnar…”

We strayed some distance away from the longhouse making small talk, where an assemblage of targets and dummy’s stood. Gunnar straightened his back, pulling the bow to his chest, stretching the string before landing a perfect shot on a target. With a proud look on his face he instructed me to do the same.

I pulled on the bow but the arrow kept staggering, once I could bring it to a still position I let loose and the arrow didn't land anywhere near a target. Gunnar let out a dry laugh before he proceeded to fix my stance.

“Chin up... Your back, straighten your back. Hold your bow tighter.”

Doing exactly as he said, in a second attempt I ended up landing a decent hit.

“You did it, I knew you could!”

Eivor appeared and I realized she had been watching us the whole time. Though I was obviously humiliated, Eivor lifted me up and carried me with one arm around my back and the other around the bend in my knees before spinning me around and cheering me on.

“You better watch out, Gunnar!” We all laughed before she placed me back down on my feet.

We headed back to the horses, Eivor saddling up on her stallion before stretching a hand out for me to grab onto. Climbing onto the horse, I wrapped my arms around Eivor’s waist for support. Gunnar parted ways before saying goodbye and wishing us safe travels.

“Where are we going?” I asked

“You’ll see… We should make haste.” Eivor said, then leading the horse out of the settlement.

The once pure white clouds began to turn a grey color and the sun stopped shining.

The horse picked up the pace and I felt the thumping of its hooves hitting the ground. The journey on the rocky path was long, making me miss the simplicity of cars. Turning a corner, we began to slow down. To my surprise, an arrangement of large stones much like Stonehenge came into view. The horse came to a halt, Eivor jumping off and then helping me get down.

“I always come here to get away from the noise but sometimes I would hear voices coming from these stones… Lately they’ve been quiet.”

Could this be my chance to find a way back?

“What do the voices sound like, Eivor?” I asked.

“Truth be told, they sound a lot like yours…”

A confused look fell upon my face.

“I had dreams of this location, I sought out to find it and it turns out it's real. My dreams become prophecies, I know it sounds strange. A woman always accompanied me here in the dreams I realize now, it was you.”

Eivor held my wrist up, pointing at my bracelet.

“Valka told me a stranger would come to me with a symbol of love, like the one you wear all the time. Although, I’m ready to give myself to you, I can't help but feel like there is something that you’re not telling me…”

I stood up from the stones we were resting on, straightening out my overshirt.

“Eivor I…”

Eivor stood back up next to me, her hands grazing the fabric on my elbows.

She knew something was going on, but would she believe me If i told her the truth. Would chaos commence? Would I be spat back into the present day if I told her everything?

I took a deep breath.

“Eivor, there has been something I’ve kept from you but before I tell you I have one more thing I need you to talk to me about…”

The tall blonde stopped me,

“The box, I know.”

A shocked look formed on my face but Eivor remained calm. Reaching into my tunic to pull out the keys from my string, I placed them into the palm of her hand. It's no surprise due to my forgetfulness that I had been caught.

“I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have done that. Why do you still cherish her things, Eivor?”

Eivor picked the key off from the jamble of the others before throwing the key far off into the distance, the vision of it lost in peaks and valleys of green hills.

“I forgot it was even there, [y/n]. We were together for so long I completely forgot to get rid of it. Our notes stopped long ago, after she and Sigurd separated.”

My eyes looked down at the ground.

“Yeah, you were together for so long…”

Eivor pulled my chin up, making me look her in the eyes.

“You’ve caused me to feel more emotions than Randvi ever did in the years we were together, I need you to know that.”

Gaining some clarity on the situation I gave an understanding nod. I latched onto Eivor’s hand and pressed it against my cheek. A tear fell from my eye and I braced myself to tell Eivor the truth.

Pulling myself back from her, I inhaled deeply. My hands shaking from anxiety and nerves, I wiped underneath my eye and began to pace.

“Calm down, love. I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to say.” Eivor said, reassuring me.

“These stones, there are stories about stones like these. The saxons know of them.”

Eivor shot me a confused look.

“What of these stories?”

I let out a nervous chuckle.

“They say you can go back in time, or forward...”

Eivor leaned forward to listen closer, her eyes widened.

“They sound silly but, I found out that they’re true the day you found me and I woke up in your bed. I realized I had been shot back more than a thousand years in the past. I’m not even from this time period, Eivor.”

Eivor contemplated for a moment. Perhaps, on whether or not to take me seriously.

Eivors POV

“Eivor, we’ve been looking for you!”

Rain began to fall from the sky, and Thor began to unleash his bane. Thunder could be heard hitting the ground from a distance. With a whip of my neck, I turned to see Sigurd and a few of my men approach on horse. Sigurd quickly dropped from his horse and walked towards me.

“The settlement has been invaded, we need you at the front now!” Sigurd said, pushing me towards my horse with his good arm.

With one rapid movement and no time to process, I pulled the cloak from my shoulders off and placed it over the stranger who I’m beginning to fall in love with.

“Bjorn, get her to safety quickly!”

Speaking briskly of a nearby village to send her to I saddled up my horse and grabbed onto the bridles. Heading my instructions, Bjorn led her onto the back of his horse before whipping her away.

“Move, move!”

Lashing my horse to take off as fast as possible, my men followed close behind. The hooves beating onto the ground growing loud and the thunder intensifying. Approaching a now flooded crosswalk a tree struck and fell in front of me. I whipped the horse over to the side placing us back on the track. Smoke could be seen climbing high into the air, and the stench of death grew stronger as we approached camp.

With my stallion still bucking, I hopped off to see a group of Pict men guarding the entrance. I readied my shield and the men behind me started to sprint towards the soldiers. After cutting each one down, I picked up a sword from a fallen and catapulted it at the general. An impaled man dropped next to my feet and I turned around to see Gunnar sparrying with a Pict.

“Eivor, you need to get to the longhouse! I'll hold them off!”

Though hesitant to leave my right hand man alone, I knew he could handle himself fine. I made my way past the burnt tents and chaos to find the longhouse still intact. However, when I stepped through the doorway I was greeted by a bloodbath.

The groans of a woman could be heard nearby, I raced towards the sounds to see a wounded Randvi still in her bed. She lifted a bloody hand from her side, and forced an attempt to speak.

“Eivor…”

My clothes soaked from the rain I could rip nothing more off me, otherwise it would risk infection. I lifted her undershirt up to reveal she had been struck on the left side of her ribcage, the wound pressing about an inch deep into her flesh. Quickly I tore off a sheet of linen next to the bed and wrapped it around Randvis gushing wound.

“Randvi, who did this? Gods, I will make them pay.”

A few men came running through the open doorway and I lifted Randvi off the bed while making sure I didn't cause her further discomfort. Transferring her from my arms to a Jomsviking nearby and demanded they get her healed as fast as possible. Men coddled around the two and they escaped through a back door.

My body filled with rage and uncertainty I set out to avenge her, axe in hand. Creating a path past the corpses on the ground, I ventured through an exit. The heavy rain only made the large burning fires worse, smoke began to fill my lungs so I tried my best to shield my mouth with my elbow. A large man could be seen fighting off a few of my men in the foggy distance. With a closer look I could see it was the chief of the Pict invaders.

“You!”

He turned his head to my enraged voice and only let out a chuckle, his laughter only infuriated me more. I charged at him with all the speed that Thor could grant me, only for him to stop me with a sparry. The pressure on our weapons caused friction, my sword began to slide and the Chief pushed me enough to where I lost balance before slicing the flesh of my arm.

Ignoring the cut, I staggered for a moment and he raised his blade in an attempt to hit me again but I dodged the attack and lifted my axe striking him in his skull. Wiping the blood from my face, I pulled the blade out and my men gathered around me. Screams of agony and cries were the only sounds surrounding me.

“This is no longer a safe spot. Check for survivors, we head west now.”

I sat down on a bench and began to tend to my wounds, pouring alcohol over the cut. The sting lasted for what felt like forever and my mind began to race, the disturbance of the day is too much to bear. Randvi looked bad last I saw her but she may be able to pull through, at least that's what I keep telling myself. We’ve been through a lot together even if we are not as close as we once were.

Everything happened so fast, I had no time to process what [y/n] told me. She claims she is from far into the future, an even further destination than what I had in mind. As strange as it sounds, I believe her. The stones must hold magical properties for me to be hearing sounds from them, and for her to allegedly be traveling from them. The painful thought of her missing home crossed my mind. She must want to go back, I know so. I can't begin to imagine what the world would be like a thousand years from now.

Everyone quickly started packing up to move westward. We suffered a great loss, but still it could take all night to pack. We’ll have to start new resources wise. My mind was so loud, I almost missed Valka calling my name.

“You’re hurt.”

The seer pulled out a small handbag before flashing a flask containing a mixture of herbs and oils. She removed the hand covering my wound and rubbed the mixture over it. The pain started to numb and she wrapped it with a clean linen nearby tying it in a knot. Valka made a distraught face before asking me if the wound felt any better.

“There is something on your mind, isn't there?”

I straightened up in my seat and gave a slow nod.

There’s a few things on my mind.

“Randvi will be okay. We will be okay, better is to come. I know for I have seen the visions.”

A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. Valka’s calming words lifted some weight off my shoulders.

“I assume you already know, she told me the truth about where she’s really from. Valka, I’ve lost so much already. She needs to get back, I can't just keep her here.”

Valka tilted her head and stared off into the distance.

“This is true, It’s her decision in the end. A choice is to be made.”