#to shine bright with hope of the good in the world and of the young innocence of a child

[strangelittlestories]

It is a little known fact that angels cannot step foot in hell.

Note: this does not mean that angels *don’t* enter the burning depths, only that they cannot touch the floor. You see, the fires that rage below are not regular fire. They do not consume fuel and oxygen and spit out heat. Instead, they chew on reality and drink down order, and the flames that lick up at you are made of chaos-filled void.

This is antithetical to the very substance of angels. If it touches them, at *best* the angels will be spat out as they are forcibly reminded that *they don’t go here*.

At medium, they will be unmade.

At worst, they will be *changed*.

You might think they could avoid this by simply flying through the pit, right? Oh, would that it were so simple. Remember the flames that burn up reality? Hell is an alchemical reaction of exploding space and logic and time and souls. You try flying through a place that is not a place, where up and down can hardly agree on which is which for more than an instant.

But there is a way around this. It was originally discovered by the guardian angel Cambiel. You see, under Cambiel’s protection was a woman named Ruth. Ruth was a shining light who Cambiel cared for greatly.

Ruth, in turn, had a woman she cared for very much. And, sadly, a demon had stolen Ruth’s love away from her.

“Do not follow her,” warned Cambiel, “for if you follow your heart through the gates of perdition, I cannot go with you.”

“Sorry, babe,” replied Ruth, “but I am *very* gay and *very* romantic and that has made me reckless.”

And Cambiel nodded sadly, for all of this was true and good.

But as Ruth walked the lonely, tortured path into the underworld, an idea occurred to Cambiel.

Sure, they couldn’t walk or fly into hell, but maybe they could *ride* there.

Now, a fully grown horse could not hope to navigate the depths beneath the world, for their sense of self-preservation was too strong. An adult horse would flee from the screams of imploding souls and the winding geometry of impossibly winding roads.

But a young horse? With a child’s innocence, with bright young eyes, who had not yet been tricked into believing in its mortality?

That was a mount that could bear an angel (who was, after all, light enough to dance on the head of a pin) into the fearful caverns of the beyond. Honestly, the little horse seemed weirdly enthused about the whole thing. 

And so did Cambiel guide a pair of reckless and romantic (and useless) lesbians out of hell.

When the pair thanked the angel, all they said was this:

“Don’t thank me, thank the little horse. It turns out … foals rush in where angels fear to tread.”

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

Taglist:

[bumblehoneybee]

Post-Nuclear - Chapter One

Inspired by Counting Stars Amongst Weeds by @/wearywheats

Contains Sonic 3 spoilers, so read with caution

Next

"S’just a woodpecker." You motion to the trunk above, not that Kermit really hears you. He braces on the tree, barking at the bird and jumping like he'll be able to reach it up on the tall pine branches. It hammers on, though, unfazed by the threats on its life. Seems it's used to dumb dogs with big ideas.

With a roll of your eyes, you raise the camera back up. The woodpecker pauses in its search for food to spit out the bits of wood collected in its beak. You take the chance to snap a few shots of it, hoping the sight of its tongue sticking out is caught on film. The papers and ecological sites tend to like the funnier images.

Kermit, seeing as his enemy is too far out of reach, scampers to your side instead. He braces on your leg as you fiddle with the aperture settings on your camera, whining for you to help him. However, you are not as young as he would prefer, and think better of throwing him into the tree like one would a football.

Seeing your cousin do that and then having to drive them both to get medical attention killed any sliver of consideration you could have towards the idea.

Instead, you grab a stick, slap it around at his feet, and once the dog is too overwhelmed by what's happening, throw it off into the trees. Kermit sprints after it, the sound of his feet in the brush all you need to be assured he's still nearby.

You gaze up at the trees again, finding the woodpecker turned around now, staring down at you. It's head cocks this way and that, trying to get a good look at what's causing a ruckus down below. You raise your camera again, smiling when the bird jumps at the sound of the shutter.

With a squawk of a noise, it takes flight, noisily flapping its wings so it can rise above the treeline. Before you can attempt to follow, however, something. . . happens.

You notice the light first, the sudden brightness to the sky when it should be darker. Late afternoon during this time of year means a steady setting of the sun, yet suddenly the world brightens around you, like an overexposed photo.

It's hard to see through the brambles and leaves, but high above there's a golden light burning through the canopy. You rush forward, towards your home where there's a clearing of trees, whistling for Kermit to follow. The little greyhound nips at your toes, shining bright as a star in the strange lighting, and seems unafraid of whatever phenomenon has plagued the forest.

When the trees part for clear skies, you spot it. A ball of flames scorches through the sea of blue, spiraling downwards. It cuts away at the tips of the trees, but you can tell when it hits Earth by the trembling of the ground. You stumble, knees scraping the dirt, while Kermit clumsily rolls past you.

Wow. A meteor. A falling star landed in the forest, near your home, and now you can see the smoke billowing up into the air. It's not that far away, not really, and whatever landed. . .

You bite your lip.

A meteor crater can't be safe, but then again, who wouldn't love a photo of burning meteorite still hot from its descent? You could make a decent income on some photos of that.

Without any more thought, you toss Kermit back into the house and sprint towards the smoke column, eager to make it there before anyone else can ruin the natural state of the impact zone.

A breathless laugh escapes you as you hurdle fallen stumps and small streams. Fallen leaves slick with mud send you windmilling over inclines, but you keep pace, too excited to care about mud-stained jeans and scratched up palms. You've never seen a meteorite period, much less one in its natural state. This will be thrilling, and maybe if you're very, very lucky, it'll change your life for the better.

After all, while being freelance is fun, being signed on to a nature magazine or a newspaper would make your salary not only steadier but higher too! You and Kermit could maybe even move somewhere closer to town, where the people are! Make friends and not feel like the weirdo living out on the town limits who people only see once a week, if even.

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. After all, most folks who want wedding or birthday photoshoots call you. Still, a steady job would be a dream come true, and this meteorite could be your ticket to it.

Your shoes scuff tracks into the dirt. You wobble, nearly falling into the pit of seared earth. The grass is still smoldering, trees fluttering with burning leaves. Luckily, none of it seems like it’ll spread far, what with the wet week you’ve been having. So with that assured, you turn back to the crater, wafting away smoke.

There’s something black in the center. You catch glimpses of red too. Your heart flutters with excitement that the meteorite might still be rife with molten lava, so you quickly pull out your camera, fiddling with the exposure and such before you start snapping as fast as you can.

You take photos of the crater still filled with smoke, the burning trees, the smoky trail still burned into the sky. And finally, with your heart in your throat and enough of the smoke cleared, you approach the center of the crater.

It’s a long drop, the impact hard enough to reach a rocky layer of the Earth’s crust. You ease yourself down into the pit, wafting away the wisps of smoke that curl around your face. When the ground levels out, you ease yourself forward, a hand held out to detect anything that might be still too-hot to get close to.

You don't feel anything, even as you make it to the center of the crater. There's still a small column of smoke clinging to the meteorite. You try to waft it away too, but don't manage much. So instead, you kneel down, surprised to find that the cause of all this damage is something so small.

Your hands land on your camera, ready to get some lovely close-ups of molten space rock. You blow into the smoke, watching it curl and disperse enough to show you your prize.

Except. . . instead of rock. . . there's a hand.

You stare at it, and yeah. . . it's a hand, clasped in a white glove singed black, missing sections to reveal blistered skin. It's connected to a similarly burned arm, black fur and red stripping and even more patchy spots with burns.

Something constricts around your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your head spins, but you don't think too hard about crawling closer and grabbing the arm, fingers curling over the wrist.

It's there, a faint pulse. The soft thumps under your fingers makes everything sharpen. You stare into the clumped fur, too afraid to look farther than the elbow.

But your eyes betray you, flickering upwards to a face, slacken and covered in blood.

A fear unlike you've ever known ices your veins. You're panicking, hands fluttering now, parting fur to find more cuts, more bruises, and more burns, some worse than others. You want to turn his head, try and find where all the blood is coming from, but the quills that spike out from the back of his head make you nervous.

You're nervous. You're scared. But there's a guy-animal-thing here lying in a crater and bleeding out onto the earth, so you gotta do. . . something! And that something can be figured out when you're closer to home.

At least he's unconscious, because you certainly have no grace hauling him into your arms. He's warm to the touch, but not so hot as to hurt you. No doubt his burns are more serious than something your aloe plant can help, so there's research to be done there.

You stumble, struggling to claw your way up the crater's incline with a body half-strewn over your shoulder. There's puffs of air against your neck, hitching with each wobble of your footing. Your fingers are going to be raw from digging into the dirt and rocks, but god is your head too buzzed to care.

Kermit is understandably in a frenzy when you return with a guy in your arms. He does spins and circles around you, eager to play with the new person or new toy, whichever you chose to bring him. You stomp your feet and shuffle them at the hound so he runs away, though, expecting a game of chase. Instead of chase, however, you escape to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

He can cry about it for now. You can soothe his hurt feelings when there's not a guy dying on you.

The tub fills with water, and you set your new guest down on the toilet for the time being. Your camera sits on the sink, and your phone sits in your hand, pages of how to identify and care for burns trying to teach you how to save something you never knew existed.

You make sure the tub isn't too warm per the instructions of a hospital, then lower the guy down into it. You keep his head propped on the tub's edge, dunking one of your wash cloths into the water to use on his face.

Dried blood and ash clears with each pass, showing you the wound that's causing most of the mess. The gash cuts through his temple, curling up around the pointed ear on his head. You clean the debris from it best you can, and wonder if any of your first aid supplies will help bandage such a wound.

Before that, however, you pull your guest from his bath. The water is a dark grey from the ash and dirt, so you drain it quick, using the shower head to do a clean of the tub before refilling it.

You focus on the quills next, carefully pouring water over his head with the cup you usually keep your toothbrush in. You watch the debris wash out into the tub with disdain. Gross. You'll need to drain it again when you start focusing on his burns.

The article on your phone mentions cold water, bandages, and pain meds (the latter of which you have no expectations for). You have that stuff on you, but the cream they recommend, silver sulfadiazine, you don't have. Looks like he's going to have to put up with your aloe plant for now.

Satisfied that he's clean enough, you pull him from the tub and pat dry his fur and quills until he's dry enough for the couch. With Kermit screaming in your bedroom, demanding to play with the new guest, you drag over your big aloe plant, walking the heavy pot to the side of the couch before you grab your first aid kit from the kitchen.

You sit on the floor before the couch, staring at the hands and legs sporting the most serious burns, blistered and shiny. You don't know what you're doing. Your worst burn has been sunburn, and anything else is lost to the panic haze and childhood daze that covers those older memories. But you know aloe helps, and bandages are needed, so you can go from there.

"Aha," you laugh, sticky hands smacking for the remote, "I'm gonna have a dead body in my house, ha."

The TV blares to life, thankfully distracting you from your lack of confidence in your medical experience. A newscaster drones on about the upcoming weather, expecting rainy days and pollen counts, while you're smearing blisters in aloe and wrapping them in gauze, near tears with each twitch of foot and hiss of air.

"In other news, more information regarding the Eclipse Canon and the state of the moon has been released by officials, showing insight to the future that awaits us."

You pause, an arm held up by the glove you have half off. The TV shows a space station, like something from a movie, alongside a picture of a half-destroyed moon. A nausea grips at your stomach.

When did the moon explode? How did it explode?

You really need to start watching the news more often.

"Sources say that the explosion of the Eclipse Canon has caused a nebula to form within the Milky Way, close enough to Earth for us to see with the naked eye." You balk, but the stern-faced newscaster continues without fail, uncaring of your misery. "Monitoring of the nebula has shown its in a stable state, with no supernovas to occur for hundreds of years. As for the moon, it's new state thanks to the Eclipse Canon, activated by one Dr. Eggman-"

"He shot the fucking moon!?" You exclaim, only to jump with the arm drops to the couch, glove fully removed. "Ah! Shit!"

"-expected for tides to shift, due to the change in the satellite's new mass. Small pieces of debris from the moon are expected to fall to Earth as well, so if you are a part of these areas, be sure to fortify and ready for cover in case of your home is in the collision course."

You groan, flopping onto your back. You could've had a piece of the moon hit nearby, but no. You got a guy, probably an alien guy, instead.

Looks like you're going to be doing some internet searching tonight. Time to catch up with the current events, since apparently missing a few days of the news to watch game shows instead means missing the fact the moon got blown up while you weren't looking.

Rubbing your hands over your face, you sigh heavily. The past hour or so plays over in your head, settling into your bones like a heavy weight. There's an alien in your home now, more or less. An alien, hurt and alone, now residing on your couch.

You hit the floor with your first. What are you going to do? Calling the police would end up with your alien being taken away, and you're scared of that. But you're not sure this guy isn't. . . bad either. He could attack once he wakes up.

God. . . where did you put your laptop? You need to look this shit up.

[nylqnder]

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: you finally get to watch will live out his childhood dream, but become a source of comfort when the game doesn't end the way he'd hoped.

warnings: childhood friends to lovers, tooth rotting fluff, use of flashback scenes (which are italicized), appearances from wills family + macklin (very briefly), sad will after the sharks lose

word count: 2.20k

notes: i had so much fun writing this oh my gosh. sucks that the sharks lost but will had a good game (and so did macklin but this isn't about him right now)

The roar of the crowd felt deafening in your ears as you watched Will and Macklin skate out onto the ice, the bright lights of the SAP Center shining down on them like a spotlight. You clutched the teal jersey tighter around you, the number 2 stitched onto the back. Your heart swelled with pride as you watched Will glide effortlessly across the rink, his movements a graceful blend of power and precision.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening.” his mom said, voice trembling with emotion. You glanced over at Colleen who was clutching her chest with a smile that looked like it could light up the entire arena.

Next to her, Grace, Will’s sister, wiped a tear from her cheek as she reached for the both of you, pulling you into a hug as you shared this moment together. Even Will’s dad Bill, who was always so composed, had a telltale glimmer in his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile of unmistakable pride. You’d watched him grow from a gangly kid into a young man now living his dream. And now here he was, skating in his first NHL game.

It was a warm summer afternoon nearly a decade earlier when you first met Will …

You sat in a heap on the grass, chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath. A fresh scrape ran across your knee, a testament to your failed attempt at learning to rollerblade. The purple and green skates on your feet had been a birthday gift, and in your stubborn independence, you were determined to teach yourself how to skate. But the balancing part was proving much harder than you’d imagined, leaving you bruised and scraped after several falls.

As you sat there, huffing and pulling out tufts of grass in frustration, you heard a voice. “You okay?”

You turned to find a boy standing there, about your age, with shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes. He held an oversized hockey stick in one hand, donning black, sleek rollerblades on his feet. Will, as you'd soon learn, had just moved into the house next door. He smiled with a confidence that seemed far too big for his small frame.

“Yeah,” you muttered, wiping at your tear-streaked face, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I just…fell.”

Will nodded, studying your skates before dropping his hockey stick on the ground. “Want me to show you how to stop falling?” he asked.

You tilted your head. “You could do that?”

“Yeah! I’m a pretty good skater,” he said with a proud grin.

Will helped you to your feet, keeping your hand in his as he eased you back onto the pavement. You spent the rest of the afternoon with Will teaching you how to find your balance. He patiently caught you every time you wobbled, never laughing when you stumbled. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you could glide down the sidewalk without feeling like you’d crash into the pavement.

“Thanks,” you said shyly, tugging your skates off for the day.

“You’re not bad," he grinned, leaning against his hockey stick like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You just need a little practice."

“Will! Dinner’s ready!” a voice called from the nearby driveway. His mom, Colleen, waved him over. He glanced back at you, still seated on the sidewalk, and smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

From that day forward, it was always “you and Will”. He became your constant companion. Through scraped knees, missed goals, and late-night talks, you grew together.

It was during your sophomore year of high school when things began to change. You noticed the way Will would look at you a little longer when you were talking, his eyes lingering on your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. You’d find yourself holding your breath when he’d sling an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into one of his endless jokes, but the warmth of his touch would linger long after he let go.

One late night after a particularly tough game, Will dropped by your house, his hair still damp. You were sprawled out on your bed, textbooks and homework scattered around you when he knocked on your bedroom window. He always did that, never bothering with the front door.

“Need a break?” he asked, pushing up the window and climbing in like he'd done a thousand times before.

“Definitely,” you laughed, shoving your books aside, letting him sit on the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, but there was a nervous energy about him you hadn’t seen before. He ran a hand through his hair, hesitating. “I was just thinking about something.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Thinking about you,” he said plainly, your heart stuttering. “And about how I always feel better when I’m around you.”

You felt your stomach twisting into knots. “What are you trying to say, Will?”

His eyes searched yours for any clue that he should either stop or keep going with his confession. “I guess… I’m trying to say that I like you. A lot.” he laughed, shaking his head as if trying to brush away his own nervousness. “Like, more than a friend.”

Your breath caught, the world narrowing down to just you and him at that moment. You’d thought about this, dreamed about it even, but hearing him say it made it feel more real than you ever imagined. “I…I like you too, Will,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

The smile that spread across his face was the most genuine, heart-stopping thing you’d ever seen. “Really?” he asked, disbelief colouring his tone.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing softly. “Really.”

Without thinking, he leaned closer to you, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You could feel his breath against your skin, his eyes flicking to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice trembling.

You nodded, and the next moment, his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant at first but quickly growing more confident as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. It was everything you’d imagined – and more.

When he pulled back, his face remained close, breath mingling with yours in the quiet space of your room. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“Me too,” you whispered, your heart still racing.

After that, you were no longer just best friends. You were something more, something that had been quietly building for years, just waiting for the right moment to finally come to life. Now as you stood in the packed arena years later, watching him take to the ice, you felt the past and present intertwine.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a few slipping down your cheeks despite yourself. Will stopped along the glass in the corner, looking up into the section where you sat. For a split second, your eyes met, and even from a distance, you could see the brightness and unmistakable joy in his gaze. He gave you guys a small wave before looking back to the ice, taking a playful hit from his teammate.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you whispered, squeezing Grace’s hand.

The game itself was a blur of excitement and nerves. Every time Will touched the puck, your breath caught. You watched him fight for possession, skate with the kind of speed and agility that only came from years of practice.

The first two periods were played well by the Sharks, with them taking a 4-1 lead, but the game soon slipped closer together towards the end of the third. When the Blues tied it with 45 seconds remaining, your heart tensed, the end of regulation buzzer echoing in a silent arena. Will didn’t see the ice in overtime when the Blues ended the game within the first 40 seconds of extra time. A collective groan sounded through out the arena, fans quickly clearing out.

Your heart sank, knowing how much this moment meant to Will. You watched as the team walked down the hall to the locker room, heads hung in disappointment. You spotted Will, Macklin patting him on the back, a small gesture of solidarity, but you could see how much it stung for both of them. They had given their all, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.

Fans continued to flow out of the stands, the usual post-game chatter was quieter, a stark contrast to the earlier excitement. A staff member instructed you to stay in the stands while Will changed and did media. You stood with his family, exchanging hugs, and offering words of comfort, but your eyes kept flicking back to the tunnel, waiting for him. 

Minutes felt like hours, until finally you spotted Will climbing the steps into the stands, changed back into his game-day suit, his damp hair falling in curls over his forehead. His face was a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, but the moment he spotted his family, a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Will made his way toward you all, the arena now almost empty except for a few lingering staff members. Colleen was the first to meet him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and he buried his face into her shoulder for a moment, letting out a deep breath. Bill clapped him on the back, offering a few quiet words of encouragement. Grace was next, standing on her tiptoes to hug her brother, whispering something in his ear that made him smile faintly despite everything.

And then, his eyes found yours.

For a second, you weren’t sure if you should say anything, if you should be the one to comfort him after a loss like this. But when he stepped closer, his body radiating exhaustion and vulnerability, you knew he needed you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head as you hugged him back, tighter than you ever had before.

“You played amazing,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

He didn’t say anything at first, just held you closer, as if drawing strength from your presence. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the disappointment lingering in the air.

“That fucking sucked,” he finally muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I wanted to win so badly.”

“I know,” you replied softly, rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles. “But you’ll get another chance. Tonight wasn’t the end.”

You felt Will shake his head. “I could’ve done more, I should’ve gotten on the sheet.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your hand resting gently on his chest. His eyes were a mix of frustration and exhaustion, still tinged with the adrenaline from the game. “Will, it’s not all on you. It’s a team game — you know that. You can’t carry it all on your shoulders.”

He exhaled sharply, his hands still holding you close as if he was afraid to let go. “Yeah, but… I wanted to, you know? I wanted to prove something.” His voice faltered, and the vulnerability in his expression tugged at your heart. You could see how much this moment meant to him—not just the game, but his debut, this night he'd dreamed of since he was a kid. And even though the team had lost, all you could see was how proud you were of him.

“You did,” you said, your voice steady and sure. You brushed back a lock of blonde hair that fell over his eyes. “You proved that you belong here. And not just to everyone else, but to yourself. This is just the beginning, Will.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the weight of your words settling in. You could see the way his tense shoulders started to relax, his grip on you loosening ever so slightly as if he was finally allowing himself to believe it too. A small smile, soft and tired, tugged at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

You smiled back, leaning into his touch. “Good thing you don’t have to find out.”

Will let out a small chuckle, the sound lightening the weight between you. “I can’t believe you came all the way from Boston for this.”

“Of course I did, Will. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” you smiled. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, and before you could say anything else, he kissed you. It was warm and soft and tasted faintly of the Gatorade he’d probably chugged all game, and it was everything you needed to feel how much this moment meant to him.

When you finally pulled away, Will kept you close to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, the words barely a whisper. “For always believing in me.”

“Always,” you promised.

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[candychocolate]

The thing I've always loved most about aa4 is how much darker the tone is than the rest of the series in a way that isn't just edgy for the sake of it, but subverts your expectations from the original 3 games in a really interesting way. The trilogy was built upon the trust Phoenix had in others, and it was something we as players could almost always feel certain in. AA4 flips this on its head and makes it so Apollo effectively can't trust anyone but himself.

Your mentor, who the in the trilogy was a paragon of wisdom you could always turn to no matter what, gets revealed to be the culprit and sent to jail in the first trial and by the end of the game his list of crimes has stacked high but you still have so few answers on why he did any of it.

Your boss, the goofy protagonist of the trilogy, is now inexplicably a washed-up, disgraced, cheating poker player with an implied drinking problem who seemingly found a new hobby in evidence forgery and jury rigging.

He has a codependent relationship with his daughter, your assistant, who usually is a completely innocent and hapless victim of circumstance. She sees herself as the provider for the house and will help her father cheat at poker, or forge evidence, or guilt trip the poor attorney they knowingly screwed of out of a job into working for them for dirt cheap.

The detective, the only other returning main character, a previous assistant, is completely changed since we last saw her. In the trilogy she was chipper and bright despite the hardships she faced, and now she's unfriendly and burned out, turned bitter by the world. The scene we're first properly introduced to her in Apollo genuinely spends several minutes thinking his boss is making him bribe her with cocaine.

Every single defendant is a criminal guilty of something other than what they're charged for. Each case centers around an underground black-market poker ring, a mafia family and medical malpractice, a smuggling ring, and a family of forgers and an incredibly shady troupe of magicians. The one thing all of these people have in common is that none of them will tell you literally anything about what's happening, half of them clearly reveling in being as big of cryptic assholes as possible.

The only person who doesn't fit this description is, for once, the prosecutor. Usually your biggest obstacle and the most morally corrupt of the main cast, he's the only person who's both 100% on the side of truth and on the same page as you for the entire game. He's just as clueless as you, being used nothing more than a chess piece just like you are.

But the truly masterful thing about AA4 is how morally grey it is. These characters aren't just one note villains. They're not even villains at all. Most of them aren't even malicious.

Your boss, for all the low levels he stoops to, is underneath it all the same guy he's always been, doing everything he can to bring a criminal to justice and protect his family. Your assistant is a sweet girl who truly cares about you, she's just prioritizing herself and her fathers safety before anything else. The detective is the same passionate and kind woman under everything else. The rest of the defendants are genuinely well-meaning young people who got involved in shady stuff they didn't fully understand.

The game is filled with good people trying to make the best of bad circumstances. The game has just as many fun moments as the original trilogy. For all it's rough appearance, the game has a similar heart. For every unanswered question or unrighted wrong, there's a smile or a hope for a better future. For every bad action, there's usually someone trying their best behind it. The game is melancholic and dark, but isn't afraid to let good shine through. It knows there's no shadows without the light.

[heidilylovely]

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 , 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧 Introduction to the cast!

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

"Plus, I'm just a "me" . Live free, Live happily. That's how I would live my life. Doesn't mean I wouldn't stop appearing to talk to you Y/N."

𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐃𝐫 𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ALL THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO HOYOVERSE!

"Isn't this time we introduce to the newly lover-? actors? May they be together in this universe ALIVE.!"

DR Y/N LN!

Dr. Y/N is a scientist 

 An iceberg person with a steady and calm personality who doesn't have any communication with people except for research. The genius woman who is called the last savior by the world, but no one actually knows her inner thoughts.

A mad genius who could have joined, THE genius society level, THE Intelligentsia Guild!, But she chose the express. Even she doesn't know.. Maybe, she just wants to meet the man in her dreams...?

HATES HUMANITY, BUT STILL CHOSE TO DROWN IN IT. THAN ACCEPT IT.

"Ah, I sense that you're a originally such a romantic person. Firm and Brave, but unable to let go of that innocence. Am I right? Phainon? Or. You have another name?"

Phainon

The Chrysos Heir of Aedes Elysiae, a warrior of Okhema.

A gentle and cheerful young man with a detail-oriented mind and a pursuit of perfection in everything he does.

However his smile became very bright and wants her to to notice him soon.

HE DOESN'T KNOW WHY HIS HEART...FELT FULL....WHEN SHE PASSED BY.

"Are you saying the stars in the sky are enemies. In your understanding- Those shining lights, beautiful and cruel, will swallow us all if we are not careful....In my own way I used to believe that too, But now those lights bring not only threats but also. Open up hope for the future."

There's no need to introduction this man, He is inside her dreams. He's HER dream. A nightmare..? Isn't a word for him.

DAN HENG

The cold and reserved train guard and archivist of the . Wielding a spear.

He definitely HATES you.

   "You will do anything necessary just to satisfy your curiosity. Just don't be careless with your stuff. Y/n. No one wants to get hurt."

STELLE

Very funny, Too much she thinks Stelle's annoying. 

She's def not close with her.

But Stelle thinks She do be a baddie not gonna lie 🥵.

"Man, You're so cool, EVEN if you're slightly insane with your work...Y/n."

WELT YANG

An animator by trade, Welt is a seasoned member of the ASTRAL EXPRESS  and the former sovereign of ANTI ENTROPY who has saved from annihilation time and time again. He inherited the name of the world, 

Welt's trust in her was a delicate balance—he relied on her contributions but couldn't shake his unease. Her methods, while undeniably helpful, often veered far from his ideal, leaving him torn between appreciation and suspicion. He watches her closely, not out of malice, but out of a need to ensure she didn't cross a line he couldn't overlook.

You have a knack for walking the fine line between brilliance and recklessness, "I trust your intent, but I'm watching your methods closely—don't make me regret this."

HIMEKO

She's a person who will welcome with open arms. She will understand her.

But her guard might be up.

"I TRUST you Y/N. I hope you can find something to help march.."

MARCH 7TH

March, ever the bright and bubbly optimist, made every effort to include her, always choosing to see the best in people, she believed everyone deserved a chance.

All Y/N wants is to help...Her friend. Who's now a ice. Just like how she saw her first.

March cares about her, When everyone SAW her. She held her hand and held her coat and offered her change of clothes.

"..Hey Y/N! I'll be fine. You said you're. .gonna look into it. Right? I'll be cured in no time. Good Luck. I told Dan Heng not to be...angry at you."

DR VERTIAS RATIO

If Ratio is over done with someone than Ruan Mei, It's you. Her IDEAS is too MUCH. Insanity, Ratio would perhaps check her brain. he wouldn't be super close but close enough to be considered just colleges. Dr Ratio doesn't think too highly of ppl and tends to disagree a bit

After all,

She ended universes because she COULD. 

She started a project of path striders BECAUSE she could. 

"I would think that DR Ruan Mei IS a SAINT compared to her, She does everything she can to "save" humanity. Trust me, If she had some other mindset. Maybe we all won't exist right now."

CASTORICE

Castorice is reserved and soft-spoken, more like a drenched, shivering cat than a sunny presence. She keeps to herself, but her willingness to help others knows no bounds. Her unique ability to temporarily bring back the souls of the dead comes at a steep cost—

it drains her to the point of collapse. Even during the most grueling moments of a quest, when she looked ready to pass out or worse, she never faltered. Despite her struggles, there's a quiet charm to her: she loves feeding animals and captures the world around her through black-and-white photos, a preference that mirrors her understated, delicate nature.

 All they really want to do is help their planet and stop the attacks/war. Though they could see them becoming semi friends

"You're...really double sided. You do it because you HAVE to. Not because you WANT to, Why do you HATE Humanity so MUCH?"

AGLAEA

Beneath her seemingly calm demeanor lies a cold and calculating heart. She'll stop at nothing to save Amphoruses, even if it means crossing moral boundaries. Her ruthless determination once brought her to the brink of killing Stelle and Dan Heng—an alternate path where their lives were sacrificed for her cause. Brilliant and pragmatic,

she carefully weighs every choice, always prioritizing her planet's survival. She's unafraid to manipulate others, even using Castorice's painful abilities as a weapon to ensure her people's future, no matter the cost.

"Ah, so they're trying to play the villain? How quaint. Destroying the multiverse for HELPING? I suppose it's admirable in its simplicity, though it lacks... finesse. Experimenting on humanity is a delightful pastime, but if they're so focused on hate, they're missing the real joy of it all—the artistry, the chaos, the creation of despair. Insanity? Please. They're just another monster playing dress-up. Let's see if they can keep up when the stakes truly rise."

MYDEI

Mydei has a short fuse and isn't afraid to let it show, even if it means lashing out at Phainon when he disagrees with her. On the outside, he's all tough and gruff, but underneath, there's a surprisingly soft side to him.

As long as her methods don't threaten to tear everything apart, he's willing to look the other way. His focus is clear: saving Amphoruses is his priority, and he'll do whatever it takes to protect them, even if it means tolerating things he doesn't entirely agree with.

"She's got her ways, and I don't always agree with 'em. Hell, half the time, I can't even stand it. But if she's not gonna burn everything to the ground... I'll stick around. At least she's got a damn point—saving Amphoruses... that's the only thing that matters right now."

SUNDAY

Unlike with others, he grew close to you faster than anyone else. He sticks by your side, always ensuring you have everything you need.

Sunday knows deep down that what they're doing is wrong, but his own past—scarred by trauma and manipulation—pushes him to understand, even empathize. Having once seen the world through a similarly skewed and morally gray lens, he feels compelled to help her, perhaps hoping to guide her away from the darkness he once knew too well.

"Miss Y/n, Can we hang out more together, I wouldn't mind working under your projects too. As Long It's close to you. I don't know....Maybe I'll be fine. And I want to help you too..."

DO YOU WANT TO SAID, SHE'S JUST AS INSANE AS RUAN MEI BUT RUAN MEI DOES HAVE A HEART.

BLACK SWAN

Black Swan remains an enigma, her true intentions still largely shrouded in mystery. She would undoubtedly find her intriguing, much like Acheron. Her approach would be calculated—earn her trust, get close, and then use that connection to uncover her secrets. The thrill of unraveling someone so complex would be too tempting for her to resist, always pushing for more, always looking for leverage.

"....I would rather watch you from afar. I once danced with someone like you and..Their mind.. Let's just leave it."

Let's be real—she destroyed entire universes just because she could. DR Y/N did it for her own twisted sense of power, and she? She did it purely for the thrill, with no deeper motive than the chaos itself.

She doesn't have the tragic backstories that make most villains feel human; she's just pure, unapologetic evil. Her hatred for humanity runs so deep, her Project AEONS was designed with one goal: to wipe out every last trace of it. Even the ACTUAL AEONS called her insane, and they weren't wrong. She's not just evil—she's a force of destruction.

Competing against the NANOOK on who can obliterate the multiverse faster? That's her game. Humanity? She wants to destroy it, simply because she thinks it'll be fun. She's done inhumane experiments, and in the ultimate show of her depravity.

MAYBE, ATLEAST...

HER VIEW CAN DIFFER IF SOMEONE FIXES IT.

EXTRA CHARACTERS (WILL BE ADDED LATER)

HERTA

STERALLON HUNTERS 

NANOOK!

Let me know if I should publish this As a fic here!...

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Switched Princess pt 3

I actually wrote part 3, guys, hope you enjoy!

Part 1 and part 2 linked.

______________________________

“You look beautiful today!”

Princess Theodora turned around at the sound of her fiancé, Prince Corwin, who had entered the sitting area while she was distracted. He was a classically handsome young man. His light blue eyes focused solely on her, and his strong features were arranged in an affectionate grin. Theodora smiled back, and then looked down at her clothes.

She was wearing a blue gown, similar to the color of her fiance's eyes. It was one of her favorites, with intricate silver embellishments and folds in the skirts, highlighting the best aspects of her figure. She had always felt beautiful in this dress, and normally a compliment from Corwin would have just solidified an already good mood.

If she hadn’t seen Iris in a blue gown today as well.

When the other young woman had arrived for breakfast, Theodora had been stunned. She had seen the paintings of the former Queen, and always thought that she had to be the most gorgeous woman in this world. But her daughter… her real daughter… had surpassed her, leaving a terrible bitter feeling in Theodora’s heart at the sight.

She should be ugly. She thought to herself. Small, timid and worn from a cruel world.  Instead, she’s confident, poised and mature, unfazed by wealth or etiquette.

Theodora gritted her teeth. It’s not enough that she’s identical to HER… does she have to have the same personality as well? She thought she was rid of the person she hated the most, but the more she saw Iris…

And she chose the name Iris… even though she said it was because she sold flowers, but…why... why did it have to be the name IRIS?

She brooded over the name.

“Theo!” Corwin’s bright voice broke her increasingly dark thoughts. “I got you something!”

He handed her a small glass figurine, a carefully carved flower. She noted that it was beautiful, but not worth any money, and suppressed her disappointment with a cheerful smile. “Thank you! It’s lovely!”

Despite her efforts, he must have sensed a difference in her tone, and asked with a look of concern. “What’s wrong? Is it that adopted child your father brought over?”

Theodora’s eyes looked down, her eyelashes hiding the dark light in her gaze, at his words. She has told Corwin that her father had chosen to adopt a poor child of a faithful servant. He had believed her without question. At the time she had been relieved, but now hearing his words…. She regretted it.

She turned away from him, keep her voice low and sad. “How could that be? I feel nothing but pity for the poor girl. She hasn’t adjusted yet, so I can’t take her words or actions personally.” Theo chose her words carefully, and her eyes flashed with satisfaction as he picked up on the implied meaning behind them.

“Wait! What do you mean 'words or actions'? What has she done?” He reached out and patted her head. “You are too kind for your own good, Theo. Just tell me if you are bullied, and I will take care of it for you. Don’t get your hands dirty.”

“She doesn’t mean it…”

“She should know her place.” He snorted, dismissing her persuading words. “A fake adopted princess trying to upstage the real thing? Trash will always be rotten, no matter how you try to dress it up, but true gold shines even in the worst situations.”

“…” How ironic that he's trying to comfort me with those words. Iris stayed silent, and Corwin must have taken it for discomfort with his speaking poorly of another person.

“I know you feel bad for her…” He patted her head, not knowing that every word he spoke was stabbing her like a knife. “But don’t worry. She could never take your place. You are a princess. The TRUE princess. And soon in the future, we will get married and you will be by my side as a queen.”

Theodora reached out and hugged Corwin, her voice tearful. “I can’t wait.” It's the only way for me to escape this closing trap.

He held her tightly, smiling. “It won’t be much longer, dear. Soon you will awaken your Royal Magic, and when the Flower of Peace blooms, our wedding can be held!”

Stepping back from his embrace, Theodora frowned. “The Flower of Peace? From the treaty? I know that its written there, but we can’t possibly be waiting for a silly flower…”

“It’s not a silly flower.” Corwin’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s a historical international symbol. A gift of peace between countries. For Estin and Komish, it is an essential of our cooperation. The seeds are native to the neighboring country of Akarnor, in fields that are just across the border, just south of the palace where I grew up.” He smiled slightly, as if remembering. “They are incredibly rare, and difficult to keep the sprouts alive. Only the royal family is allowed to care for them. One of my favorite childhood memories is learning to care for the seeds.”

“Corwin…”

“And of course, in the Estin Royal family, the women descendants are born with the power to grow plants, the only power strong enough to allow the flower of peace to bloom.” He hugged her gently. “Every generation we have come together to bloom the flower. It will last for 50 years and then die, requiring the next generation to take up the mantle. “

“But… I don’t…” Theodora started to protest, but Corwin gently shushed her.

“I know you haven’t awakened the power yet, but as the daughter to the king, you are the one who will awaken the Royal magic. You just turned eighteen so you should be starting to feel it fairly soon.” His smile widened. “And then, once you bloom the flower, the treaty allows us to marry! Generations of waiting for the right time will be fulfilled through us!"

Seeing Corwin’s excitement, Theodora felt a tightness in her chest. She opened her mouth several times, but in the end, closed it silently. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Corwin the truth: that she would never awaken the royal magic… she wasn’t a blood related member of the royal family.  Part of her hoped that he wouldn’t care. That he would take the news calmly, and assure her that he loved her all the same.

But deep in her heart, the dark suspicions lingered. That Corwin liked PRINCESS Theodora and not just simply Theo. That once the truth was revealed, he would abandon her. And not just him… her brothers, her father… the rest of the nobility. She was standing on a precipice, needing only one wrong word in one wrong ear to push her over the edge into despair and obscurity.

“Theo?”

But that day is not today. She told herself firmly, turning to face her fiancé with a bright smile. She looked every inch the innocent girl who was trying to be brave despite difficulties. The exact kind of look that Corwin would eat right up. However, even though the outer shell she presented was flawless, the inside was rotten, disgusting.

She just had to keep it hidden.

______________________________

Iris was frustrated.

She stared at the flower in front of her, and she swore it was staring back defiantly. It was a rare breed of flower, a temperamental little weakling that seemed to want to die with even the slightest change in environment.

Iris had gotten the seedlings off of a sobbing merchant, who had failed to grow them multiple times, wasting hundreds of gold pieces with each bad attempt. He was so relieved to be rid of them, he hadn’t cared that she had paid a tiny fraction of what they were worth.

But even that little money was causing Iris some regret now.

The small, stumpy flower was the last living specimen from that deal… and it refused to grow. Iris swore under her breath, frustrated. It was being grown with magic! Was that still not good enough for this stupid flower? She reached out with her hand, making sure not to touch it (having learned the hard way that touching it in the growth period could cause instant death). Her power extended beyond her hand, gently enriching the soil and water the plant fed from. For a moment it seemed to perk up, giving Iris a sense of satisfaction… before wilting again, as if barely hanging on to life.

“Stupid plant. I should let you die.” She muttered, staring intensely at the wilted leaves.

“I’m curious, Princess. Do you think the flower can hear you?” An amused voice spoke up, causing her to turn, stunned. Iris felt she was fairly observant, a holdover from growing up in an unsafe environment. It was rare for someone to successfully sneak up on her. As she saw the culprit, she sighed quietly.  

Mage Vicente smiled harmlessly, seemingly unperturbed by her unwelcoming expression. “Having struggles with this flower, Your Highness?”

“I wouldn’t call it a flower.” Iris replied, turning back towards the object in question.

“What would you call it then?”

“A soul sucking nightmare.”

The answer must have been unsuspected, as the mage burst into laughter. Shoulders shaking, he looked at the flower as well, his eyebrows raising at the sight of its pitiful state. “That bad, huh?”

“This is without a doubt the worst plant I’ve ever tried to care for.  It needs something… but I just don’t know what.”

“Hmm.” He studied the flower more closely, a small sense of recognition flaring within in gaze, a strange helpless look crossing his face. “I think you are correct, Your Highness. This flower does seem to need some additional care.”

Iris shook her head at the flower, missing the expressions of the man next to her. “Too bad I don’t know what it needs.” So much for being a flower expert.

“… Would you mind if I tried to take care of it?” Mage Vicente, now completely calm, pointed and asked gently. “I’m happy to compensate you if I fail.”

Startled, Iris stood up and quickly gathered a wooden box to place the potted plant into it, along with a stack of papers which included her observations and prior failures. She moved quickly, almost worried that he might change his mind. “I don’t know what your plans are, but don’t worry about compensation. I’m out of ideas anyways.” She passed the box over to the mage, who reached out and took it, his hands cold to the touch as they made contact with her own over the transfer. She retracted her hands quickly, feeling a bit flushed.

Must be too warm here in the greenhouse.

“Thank you for your trust.” Vicente smiled, the look transforming his handsome face. “I’ll return it once it has been cared for.”

“…You’re welcome.” Iris straightened up, feeling stiff from maintaining her position so long as she had fussed over the stubborn plant. Hearing the chime of bells outside she sighed quietly. “That’s the noon bell. I need to change to be ready in time for the castle tea party.” Anthony had mentioned it several times already, hoping that she could get in touch with other young women of the nobility.

“You should make friends!”  He had told her with a smile. “Even better to do it now before we announce your identity. You can feel more confident in their genuineness, instead of being nice to you because you are royalty.”

Iris had felt almost amused at his confident assumption that her identity would EVER be officially announced, but appreciated his care and concern either way. Unexcited about the prospect of another dress change, but knowing she couldn’t delay further, Iris turned and smiled politely at Mage Vicente.

“Thank you for your time… and good luck with the flower.”

Mage Vicente chuckled. “It was my pleasure, Princess Iris.” His smile stayed in place until she had left the greenhouse, leaving him alone with the temperamental flower. As the sound of her footsteps faded into silence, his face slowly drained of expression. Vicente stayed frozen in place, his eyes coldly watching the flower sitting in the box in his hands.

“How mysterious fate is.” He muttered, taking a deep breath. “I never thought to see you again, or to have your care placed once again in my hands.” His eyes looked past the flower, seeming lost in thought. “For that matter, I never thought I would volunteer…” Vicente’s voice trailed off, but he shook his head slowly, seeming to shake the gloomy atmosphere around him.

“Oh look, it’s Mage Vicente!” A delicate voice called out as the greenhouse door opened behind him. Three young ladies, dressed in complicated tea party attire, filed in, watching the handsome young mage with wide, eager eyes. Rose, the daughter of a duke, and the young lady who had spoken up initially, stepped closer, her two friends hanging behind, giggling.

Mage Vicente straightened up, his mysterious and cold atmosphere shrouding around him, his face stony and unreadable. Even the delicate flower sitting in the box did little to offset his unapproachable air. “Lady Gillad” His voice was bland and uninterested, but the lady in question still blushed a bright pink at his words.

“I’m so happy to run into you! I have a question about a magic formula, and I’ve been unable to figure it out.” She leaned forward, almost falling over when he stepped back to avoid being close to her. Catching herself, she blinked rapidly, small tears forming in her eyes as she looked up at the taller man, a pitiful and longing expression on her face. “Can I arrange to meet and discuss my question… privately?” The implication in her question was obvious, but the target of it was unmoved.

“If you have a question regarding magic, I am afraid that I am unworthy to attend to it.  I would recommend bringing it to the Grand Mage’s attention.”

Irritation flashed in Rose’s eyes. “But you are the next in line to be the Grand Mage! Why can’t you do it?”

“I apologize, but I cannot.” His tone made it clear that whether or not he actually could, he had no interest.  He bowed politely to the group. “Excuse me, I must go.” He left in the silence, not turning back despite the strong gaze that stayed on him until he was out of their sight.

Rose stood in place in the now quiet greenhouse, her fists clenched tightly beside her. Her two friends seemed unsure of how to comfort her, and stayed silent.

“A mere mage should be honored by my interest.” Rose muttered, her eyes still staring angrily at the empty space where the mage had been. “He will come to regret his decision, and beg me to reconsider him.”

“That’s right!”

“He’s crazy to not recognize his good fortune of having captured your eye!”

Relaxing at the fervent agreement of her companions, she smiled and left the space, the glass door slamming behind them.

______________________________

I knew this party was a mistake.

Iris stood in place at the entrance to the garden, feeling the strong gazes from all of the young women present. If she hadn’t had memories from her dreams standing strong under scrutiny from large groups of people, she felt she would have crumbled under the pressure already. Straightening her posture, Iris let out a small sigh, putting a professional smile on her face and she prepared to respond.

As for how she had gotten to this point….

When Iris had initially arrived, Iris immediately realized that she had been told the wrong time for the party’s start. Looking at the set ups on the various tables, the tea party should have started about 20-30 minutes prior. I should have known not to trust any information given to me. She sighed quietly. This was obviously planned for me to show up late. The only question is, what are they planning to do next? Surely it’s not just to cause me some mild inconvenience…

“Sister, you finally arrived!” Theodora stood up, her face lighting up with delight as she rushed towards her.

Ahh, there it is. Iris felt no joy in being proven right immediately.

Theodora came to a stop right next to her, reaching out to grab Iris’s hands in a tight grip as her fake smile widened. Iris’s skin crawled at the contact, and she gently freed her hands.

“Sister, are you still angry with me?” Theodora’s eyes filled with tears. She took out a handkerchief covered in frills and dabbed her face. Looking around at the shocked faces of the party guests, she continued, as if trying to explain. “It’s my fault, everyone. My sister was brought back to the castle recently, and she hasn’t adjusted yet. Having grown up in such a harsh environment on the streets, she is perfectly in her rights to hate me, who has had so much love and care.”

She spoke in a tone of speaking up for Iris, but her words said a great deal to the crowd. Iris had the title of sister to the princess, but had grown up on the streets. She could be an adopted child, but it made little sense for the king to make such a move with a fully grown young woman. The conclusion that many would come to was that Iris was a bastard, an illegitimate child of the king to someone besides the beloved former queen.  Given the popularity of the queen, this would definitely spark some resentment towards Iris. No one would guess the actual truth, that it was Iris who was the true princess.

I wonder if my dear father knows of his precious daughter’s plans. Iris thought, amused. She’s implying that he cheated on my mother, which will ruin his reputation as a loving husband that he has always cultivated. She silently looked forward to the new rumors reaching the king’s ears.

But in the meantime, she had to deal with the mess her “sister” had just dropped into her lap.

Her professional smile firmly in place, Iris took the cloth from Theodora’s hands and gently wiped the other’s face. “Sweet Theodora, how could I EVER hate you? You are such a joy to be around, and I have nothing but appreciation for how welcoming you have been to me despite the… circumstances of our meeting.”

She could say outright now that they had been switched, that her real identity was princess Theodora and the current Theodora was a fake. Part of her wanted to say it, just to see the chaos, but she knew that it wasn’t the right time. No one would believe her, and it would be easier for her father and Dominic to cover things up as false rumors and lies.

So instead, Iris leaned into Theodora’s narrative. Speaking just vaguely enough to possibly confirm the worst of the rumors, while never telling an actual lie. As for those that knew the actual story… She looked over at Theodora, whose face was pale with fear.

She must be worried that I will reveal the truth. Iris thought, amused.

“N-No! I was so happy to finally meet you!” Theodora stammered, speaking quickly to stop Iris from speaking further. “I’m glad that you don’t hate me…”

“Hate you! Nothing could be further from the truth!” With a gentle smile, Iris reached out and hugged the stiff, uncomfortable princess, looking for all the world like an innocent young woman happy to see a friend. “I’m so grateful to finally be home with my family.”

Theodora was frozen. Iris kept her harmless look, but inwardly was rolling with laughter. That’s what you get for going head-to-head with an actress in fooling a crowd.   She turned to the group of young women with a pleasantly surprised look.

“Hello everyone! I’m Princess Iris, Theodora’s sister! I’m so sorry I am late, I must have misheard the servant when she told me that the party would start at half past the noon bell!” She noticed the women giving each other side glances at that statement, obviously realizing she had been set up. “As my sister already said, I did not grow up in the castle here.  So now that I am reunited with my family, I hope that you will forgive any small errors I may make in my adjustment to life here.”

There were more murmurs in the crowd. Iris’ smile widened, and she patted the still frozen Theodora on the shoulder.  “My sister has told me how lovely you all are, so I look forward to becoming friends! Let’s resume the party!”

At her words, with a few more odd glances exchanged, the young women dispersed and sat back down at their tables. Iris looked around, and realized that her place was in the back of the garden, where there were fewer tables. As she walked closer, it became clear this was for the “lesser” noble ladies, their dresses less intricate, their jewelry made of silver rather than gold, the gems smaller and less ostentatious.

Another ploy by my dearest “sister.” To try to make me feel inferior. Humiliate and embarrass me. And of course preventing me from making any significant relationships with anyone in power.

Iris didn’t care about any of it. The mind games, the manipulations, the social maneuvers. None of it mattered. Because no matter how much Theodora schemed, how much she fought and lied and tried to trap her… She couldn’t change the simple truth:

Iris was the real princess.

That truth was the ticking time bomb that was sitting on top of the house of cards the king, Dominic and Theodora were desperately trying to hold up. In the story from Iris’ dream, she had forgotten that simple truth, and tried to play her games, tried to scheme and win by Theodora’s rules.

And that had caused her to lose.

Iris wasn’t about to repeat that mistake.

She sat down at her table with a bright smile and the ladies already seated. “Hello there!” Her eyes were calm, without a hint of embarrassment. “I’m Princess Iris.”

[solmire]

Hero will sacrifice you to save the world, villain will sacrifice the world to save you.

“I am always right here, only for you, my love. Always ready to save you, I am your hero! Do not forget about that.”

After months of cold, warmth always comes back with spring. Trees are not as bald as they were in December, buds on them tell that much warmer days are ahead.

“Look! Those are buds on the trees, warm days are waiting for us, my love.”

Walking around the streets, watching how father buys an ice cream for his little daughter, she is screaming in joy, desiring to be in his arms, and he lets her to be, pushing her head right on his shoulder, maybe saying a joke to her, because after that she starts laughing.

“Ha, I am looking forward to the day, when we will finally have our own family, my love. Do you think I am going to be a good father?”

A Young man with a blush on his cheeks right after him holds his same-age girlfriend; you see how tightly she holds his hand, her thumb moving up and down on his skin, trying to calm his racing heart like she is not in the same position. Her beautiful eyes glow; you can notice it even being meters away from her.

“Ahh, this young couples make me so nostalgic. I remember us on our high school time, I’ve always known that we are going to be together, you know?”

A young couple is passing by you. His hand stays still on the small of her back while she holds a bouquet of flowers in her hand smiles at him. The glow of his eyes tells you - he is the happiest man in the world, looking at her like she is the only masterpiece in this cruel world and he is going to cherish and protect her. Even if it takes his life, he would do anything for her.

“I will do anything for you, my love. Even if you ask me to steal the moon, I will do that without hesitation. Only to see your beautiful smile, my love.”

Stupid, aching thoughts are back. This walk turns out to be failed attempt to get back in life. Right hand slides right under the baby bump. Hand is shaking slightly, imagination is going wild on what could have been if he’d chosen you.

Liar.

Such a liar. Telling how he will never go, his life is only yours, no one will ever be as important as you, you are the only one for him. Liar.

Liar.

He is just a liar.

I hate him.

Why.

Why.

WHY.

Tears are streaming down, you can’t keep sobs in you. Sun is not shining as bright as before, warm wind changed to a cold hurricane, everything is spinning around you, eyes are not able to lock on his grave.

Everything is too much. Your lunch is right in the back of your throat, ready to leave your body with a giant plump of grief. But you know that grief will never leave you. Always right behind you, counting minutes away to throw you into a hole full of pain, memories, what ifs and maybes.

You feel your little baby girl is kicking inside of you. She can sense your uneasiness. Maybe it’s her attempt to comfort you, to remind you she is always right here, you are not alone, at least in couple months you are going to have something that left from your dear husband.

The thought of a baby brings small smile to your face. Flat will be full of laugh, warmth and care. Cold bed, his pillow, wardrobe full of his clothes, favourite mug, box of candies for later, unfinished book and a left sticker with some doodles and:

“I will be back soon, my love! Don’t forget to tell our baby that I love them too!! I love you, my love.”

He didn’t come back. He is not going to come back anymore.

Such a liar.

Was it so hard to say about a fight? What was the point of hiding your pregnant wife in another country? Saying it’s for your safety, there is no need to stay in Japan these days. You would plead him to stay, but he always had the same line.

“I am the strongest, I can handle everything. Don’t you remember? I am your hero, my love!!”

“You know, Satoru, I was hoping that you would choose me. You promised to be here, right beside me, waiting for our baby.”

You lightly touch his tombstone with your palm, imagining that you are running your fingers through his white hair. He loved it, every time begging you to do it before the sleep.

“Life would be better, if you were my lovely villain, not a hero, Satoru.”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Family Man

Chapter 1: Beginnings

The year was 1986, and in the gritty streets of Detroit, a young Marshall Mathers, just 14, was finding his voice. Life wasn’t easy; the trailer park, the constant moving, and the absence of stability weighed heavily on him. But through the chaos, he discovered rap, a form of expression that allowed him to articulate his thoughts and feelings.

Marshall wasn’t the type to easily open up, but something changed when he met her. Y/N was new to the neighborhood, your family having moved from a quieter suburb after your father took a job in the city. You were everything Marshall didn’t know he needed—bright, kind, and genuine. You didn’t judge him for his rough edges or the anger he sometimes wore like armor. Instead, you saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.

You met at a local park, where Marshall would often sit with his notebook, scribbling down lyrics. You, curious and bold, approached him one afternoon, y/c/h catching the sun as you smiled.

"Whatcha writing?" you asked, peering over his shoulder.

Marshall instinctively closed the notebook but then, seeing your genuine interest, hesitated. "Just some stuff," he mumbled.

"Can I see?" you pressed gently.

He handed it over reluctantly, watching your eyes scan the page. To his surprise, you nodded in approval. "This is really good," you said, handing it back. "You’ve got talent."

From that day, your bond grew. You became his confidante, the one person he could trust implicitly. Your family welcomed him with open arms, providing the stability and warmth he had long craved. Your father, a music enthusiast, even encouraged Marshall’s passion, letting him practice in your basement and offering advice.

You were a constant source of encouragement, helping Marshall stay focused on his dreams. You believed in him even when he doubted himself. Your love was young but profound, built on mutual respect and understanding. It was a love that was faithful, reciprocal, and light—a beacon in the darkness of Marshall’s world.

As the years passed, Marshall’s skills sharpened. He started making a name for himself in the local rap scene, always with you by his side. You were there for the highs and lows, from his first battle win to the moments when the weight of his past threatened to pull him down. Your presence kept him grounded, reminding him of the life he wanted to build—a life free from the toxicity and pain he had known.

Your relationship baffled those around you, especially as his fame and talent grew. In an industry often marked by scandal and fleeting romances, you and Marshall's enduring love was an anomaly. The media couldn’t understand how a young rapper, known for his raw and sometimes controversial lyrics, had managed to maintain such a healthy and lasting relationship.

But the real surprise came several years later, on the night of the Oscars. It was 2003, and Marshall had just won Best Original Song for "Lose Yourself." The world watched as he and his wife walked the red carpet together, your hands intertwined.

An interviewer approached, microphone in hand. "Marshall, everyone’s curious. What’s your secret to such a successful relationship? You’ve been with Y/N since you were teenagers, and it seems like your love has only grown stronger."

Marshall glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "She’s my rock," he said simply. "We’ve been through everything together. She believed in me when no one else did. I’m just lucky to have found my soulmate early on."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes shining with pride. "We’ve always supported each other," you added. "It’s about trust, communication, and never losing sight of what’s important."

The interviewer nodded, clearly impressed. "It’s rare to see such a grounded and genuine love story in this industry. You two are an inspiration."

As you continued down the red carpet, the cameras captured more than just a couple in love; they captured a story of resilience, hope, and the transformative power of finding the right person at the right time.

Marshall knew that his journey would have been vastly different without you. You had given him the strength to rise above his circumstances and become the man he was meant to be. And for that, he would be forever grateful.

Tags: @anjee0

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with W Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.

So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.

“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”

Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.

Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)

Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).

“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”

Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.

How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?

The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.

The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?

Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.

Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?

The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.

Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?

“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.

You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?

I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.

I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.

I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.

The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?

Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.

I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.

Source

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I would like to request a little prompt if you'd want to do it. Kili/Reader where Kili is insecure about not looking "dwarfish" enough; hard time growing a beard, and being seen as too young for stuff. The reader has to comfort him, maybe with some hair braiding and fluff. I just wanna see my little boy getting the love he deserves. If you'd be comfortable with it could the reader be male presenting, otherwise gender-neutral is cool too. Hope you have a good day :)

Bro sorry this is so late but hope you enjoy friend 🥰

Warnings: one suggestive joke

See Me- Kili x GN!Reader

Sometimes it simply shocked you how beautiful Kili was. Your One, the apple of your eye, he whose smile alone lit up your eyes like the whole of the stars. The way his long black locks tumbled effortlessly over his shoulders. Looks of focus that overcame his handsome features as he took a shot or when he attempted whittling.

It would have never occurred to you to think he'd never be enough. In fact, you had to suppress a laugh when he first expressed this concern, not out of finding his struggles humorous but simply a sound of pure incredulity, the same reaction you'd have had to as blatant a lie as someone telling you the sky was green.

Kili had been sitting by your side on watch, only you two awake for the chill wind of the night as the rest of the company stayed wrapped up in their bedrolls. Wistful in the breeze, he'd been thanking you for caring about him so much as he leaned back on his log, one leg crossed over the other and one hand fidgeting with the edge of his boot to match the nervous downward shift of his gaze.

"It's hard sometimes being the extra brother, you know? The one the future king's always standing up for."

"You are one of the strongest people I know," you gaped, "And I have no doubt you would do the same for him. And what is this of being the spare brother? Fili and you are nothing alike. Both of you are blessings to your family. Both of you are kind, strong, and selfless, yes, but you are bright and daring and dare I say fun in a way that he is not. There is no comparison."

"That's just it, I guess. Being the fun one doesn't help them always thinking I'm still a kid," he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Fireglow flickered around his handsome profile, illuminating the vulnerable shine in those deep brown eyes you so loved. For once, all the confidence, the bravado he was always able to summon in the company's presence, had melted away. Kili was no child, but you could see the helpless boy within making his slight emergence. No matter, though. Who could see this dwarf man, this one who made you feel so strong and so safe and made jokes that never failed to flare warmth beneath your skin, and see a boy?

"Your mother?" You asked, leaning closer and resting your hand upon his arm.

"Everyone," he shrugged, looking up and giving a small smile to your contact, "They tell me I'm tall for my age or ask what is wrong with me that I haven't a full beard. They see my brother, proud and golden-haired with those great dangling braids and say there goes the future king. Then comes me, the princeling who gets to have fun, the one lucky to live in so many great leaders' shadow."

"I love my brother," he hastily amended, waving his hands, "None of it is his fault and I do not want his life, his possible throne. Moreso it's the way they expect me not to care, not to have a bother in this world. So I guess I grew into giving them what they want. Acting like just that. Suppose that's part of why I rush into things so. Some part of me hoping I'll prove myself this time. Make up for the times Fili had to rush to my defense from some bully picking on me before I vowed to show them."

As Kili's words trailed off, you shook your head, eyes still shining into his with purest disbelief. "If only you could see what I see. See not only your beauty, but your heart. A beard doesn't make a man, after all, a heart does. And yours is bold, resilient, and would do anything for those it loves. In turn it loves freely and acts courageously, even when the world would have it falter."

A smile crept its way back onto Kili's lips at your words, his dark gaze going a bit bashful. Firelight overtook more of it as he shyly swiveled back away.

"A real man defends those he cares about and those who cannot defend themselves. He knows who he is and fights just as strongly for that. Just like you when you stood up to those imbeciles who mocked your archery and became an expert with a bow. When I look to what being a man means, Kili, I look to you. Now come here. Turn around."

Looking a bit puzzled, Kili obliged, rotating in his seat to face totally away from you, that flickering glow glistening off the long black locks that now faced you. You ran a hand through them, relishing in their softness despite the bristling pine needles that fell from them and dirt that had surely caught there. Running your fingers again and again, you combed carefully through it all.

"You take such good care of us. Of your mother, who gifted you a beautiful promise to return to her arms. Now let me care for you."

Wordlessly he nodded, melting into your touch as your fingers caressed his scalp, running through his hair one final time before you began separating the flowing locks and braiding them.

"Great dangling braids, you say? Great dangling braids you shall have, and I daresay they'll be more than a mite longer than Fili's."

"Not the only thing of mine longer than his," Kili shoots back, turning his head enough to give you a wink.

Smiling and giggling, you swatted his shoulder and shook your head. Deflection or not, your heart was warmed for the return of Kili's humor. You would do anything it took, you reflected as your hands worked at weaving his hair, to keep his smile present. After all, you knew he would always do the same.

Your rock, your strength, your heart, your One. Words you spoke to him over and over that night until they stuck, and if they never did, well, you would be right there to speak them again. To be Kili's eyes and see him for all the beautiful things that he was.

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[fashionteahouse]

these days my lesbian ass are awake for leah so i want you to feed me MAMA with her

Can I request leah x swan fem! reader

when leah imprinting on her and got shocked because she didn't Expect to imprint on a women so leah hide this from reader ( she knows about werewolves and vampire things beacuse she stuck in her sister bella ass) but one day one of the pack expose it by mistake to reader and leah trying to explain it to reader and she find out reader have a crush on her from along time 🥺🥺🥺

Mmmm you can make the reason why leah hide it from reader because she wants to know first what she really wants thier relation be before talk to reader ...

Have a good night honey

🥑anon

gotchu gotchu hope you enjoy :)

official - leah x swan fem! reader

Her brother excitedly talking went over Leah’s head. She always heard the name Y/N, but never seen her.

Apparently, she’s coming to the bonfire.

Leah didn’t care too much for them, especially this one. She just wanted to count down the time she was there and go home.

Sitting on the fallen log near the fire, she waited with the elders for everyone to get settled down. She sighed without any interest.

She hears in a distance, gravel being rolled on. Looking around, the only person that wasn’t there was Jacob.

“I think she’s here!” Seth exclaims as he joined Leah on the log with a burger.

She shakes her head slightly at her brother’s overjoyed emotion.

She hears two sets of footsteps make their way to the beach.

Seth gets up to greet both you and Jacob after he swallowed his burger, started horsing around with Jacob, you let your eyes wander.

Seeing the scenery of the beach, your eyes go to a young woman sitting on the log, looking right at you. You froze at her beauty. Her cheekbones shining bright along the light of the fire. Her gaze is intense but, you wish she could look at you like that all of the time. You watch as the girl gets up and walk away from the spot she was sitting.

You seen her around, but people told you to stay out of her way. She was majestic, carried herself with a tolerance of nothing. You admired her from a far.

Leah tried her best to keep her cool. Her heart was pounding and she felt very nervous. She was in shock, she felt a wave of euphoria just by looking at you. She needed a second the compose herself. The feeling was foreign and she’d never felt this way about someone before, not even Sam.

Sam was forgotten, buried back deep in her head. You were now the forefront, looking away from you felt so wrong.

“Did I just imprint?” she kept asking herself as she walked further along the beach.

She needed air and she felt too trapped from where she was sitting.

“Leah!” a voice calls out.

She closes her eyes as she turns around.

“Where are you going? The stories are about to start.” Embry asks as he walks closer. Leah takes steps back.

“I need to phase.” she says shaking her head.

“What? Come on, Leah.” Embry says to get her back to the scenery.

“I..Can’t.” she says, her face forming into hesitation.

Embry takes a look at his pack sister, he’s never seen her this antsy or nervous before. She usually kept a tough front, he began to get worried.

“Leah, what’s wrong?”

Leah shakes her head, “Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” he promises.

“I think…I imprinted.” she says but whispers out the last part.

Embry’s eyes go big from disbelief before turning kind, he smiles, “Wow, I’m happy for you.”

Before Leah could explain her rebuke of it, two more figures come to where her and Embry are standing.

“Wait, you imprinted?” Jared asks with a curious Seth right next to him.

“Great, tell the whole world.” she says while rolling her eyes.

“That’s great!” Seth says.

“Any of you say a word, I will kill you.” she says before storming off.

That night was hard. You kept searching the beach to see if you could find the perfect face. You didn’t know why you were disappointed but, you just were.

As the night progressed, neither of you could sleep. Tossing and turning, you both rubbed a spot in your chest, trying to massage the sharp pain away.

It went on like that for a while. You spent a lot of time in La Push, feeling a pull to the place. You’ve spent your time here again and again whenever your sister or father would visit the Black family, but it felt necessary.

Leah rolled her eyes again once Sam found out. Her arms were crossed as he sat her down and explained to her, “Leah, you can’t just push it away. Just go talk to her.”

“I will talk to her…I just don’t know when.” Leah says.

“I know it’s causing both of you pain.” he says.

Leah placed two hands on the table as she rises up.

“Stay out of it.” she hisses to him and lets the door slap to a close.

With Jacob gone from his garage, you still stayed in La Push. Embry was closing his door behind him as he started to make his way somewhere.

“I’m going to Emily’s? Wanna come.” he asks.

You agree and you both fall into conversation.

“You look like you haven’t been getting rest. Are you alright?” he asks and you look to see him watching your face.

“I’m alright. It’s weird though. I’ve been getting this weird pain in my chest, it makes it kinda hard to fall asleep.” you admit but, you pass it off as something that will eventually fade away.

Embry doesn’t say anything, keeping his eyes in front of him as his mind starts to travel a mile a minute.

You nudge him a bit, “Are you alright.” you ask with a smile, he went quiet on you.

“I’m alright.” he says but you can tell when he’s lying.

“Yeah, right.” you say laughing.

He shrugs and freezes once the view of Emily’s home is there. He hears the conversation.

“Wait, Y/N.” he says but you don’t listen, still reaching for the door.

“Leah won’t accept the imprint. It will make it easier for both her and Y/N.”

Your eyebrows are knitted in confusion as you move further into the home.

All eyes look to you, but you speak up.

“What’s an imprint?” you ask.

You watch as the eyes flicker with nervousness as they all mumble and mutter.

“That’s what you get for opening your fat ass mouth.” Paul says as Jared looks the most sheepish.

“Leah should explain it to you.”

“Isn’t that what Sam and Emily have? And what you and…” you trail off as you start to piece everything together.

Leah stalks into the home, freezes when she finds you live in the flesh.

“Hi.” you say to her with a smile. Her stomach does jumping jacks as she whispers out a “Hey.”

“Can we talk?” you ask her.

Leah flashes them all looks of anger, malice, and cruelty. She changed her face as she looked at yours and gave you a smile smile, “Sure.”

You both walk, letting the dirt smush underneath you both.

“Do you not like me…or something?” you ask small and nervously.

“Why would you think that?” Leah asks in confusion.

“You didn’t want to accept the imprint. I mean, I totally get it.” you say in a light tone but deep down you were hurt. You hear her sigh as the walk slows down as you two face each other.

“I…Didn’t want to pop out with it, you know?” she says before looking down, “I want it to be natural. I didn’t want to rush you into things just because I imprinted on you.”

You place a supportive hand on her arm, “I wish you kind of did.”

Leah looks at you in astonishment.

“I had a crush on you for a very long time.” you say with a chuckle and you watch her face go to disbelief.

“You did?” she questions and you nod.

“You’re so beautiful. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” you say softly to her. Leah closes her eyes before admitting, “I wanted to accept it. I didn’t know what I would want this relationship to be. I promise I was going to talk to you. Just, when I figured things out.”

“Can we… Figure things out together?” you ask with hope.

You watch as she slowly opens her eyes and look at you. You smile as she’s looking at you with the intense eyes that you liked so much. She nods as she lets you lead her back to Emily’s home.

[theta-walti]

Dreams Under The Sun

Summary: Olga teaches an afternoon class, there she meets Daisy and you.

Warnings: none :)

A/N: This is one that l have kept in my drafts for ages now, but here we go! This is also a request by someone l used to like, l hope you had fun reading this 🫶 request if yall want a part 2!

Word count: 1k, short blub :)

The sun was just beginning set, sending out a golden glow over Madrid. Olga sat on a chair near the dining table as she laced up her boots. Today was a special day – not because it's a match, but because of a promise she had made.

Olga walked out of her apartment and headed quickly toward a small local football pitch. She was almost late so she had to hurry. It was a Saturday, and she had agreed to host a training session for a group of young girls from all around the neighbourhood. When she arrived, the girls were waiting for her, their faces lighting up as she approached.

“Good morning, everyone!”

She greeted, her smile bright and kind. The girls, ages from six to twelve, gathered around, their excitement increased as more time passed.

“Are you ready to play?”

Olga asked, kneeling to be at eye level with them. They all nodded enthusiastically.

For the next hour, Olga led them through simple drills, sharing tips and tricks she had learned over the years. She showed them how to control the ball, how to defend, and most importantly, how to believe in themselves.

“Remember, it’s not just about skill,”

She said, pausing the practice for a moment.

“It’s about your hearts. Never give up, no matter what.”

One of the girls, Daisy, who was particularly shy, but she seemed to do better under Olga’s teaching. Olga noticed her potential, so she spent a little bit of extra time encouraging her, showing her how to dribble past defenders with confidence.

After the session, Olga sat with the girls, sharing stories from her own career. She told them about the challenges she faced, the hard work it took to reach the top, and the joy of scoring the winning goal in the World Cup final.

“Dream big,”

As she told them, there was a lot of awes and wows. The girls did look up on Olga, a lot too in that fact.

“You can achieve anything if you believe in yourself and work hard.”

As the session officially ended and the parents slowly went to pick up their kids, Daisy stayed behind. She walked towards Olga, wearing her Real Madrid backpack and holding out a small notebook and pen.

“Could you sign this for me please?”

She asked as her eyes shined, she was talking to her hero. Daisy had looked up on Olga ever since she was able to walk, meeting her today was an absolute dream come true.

Olga had nodded with a smile, taking the notebook. She signed on the page that has her name on it and chuckled.

“Your planning to collect a lit of signatures huh?"

Daisy just giggled, and Olga smiled as she gave the notebook back to the little girl, Daisy smiled as she went and sat next to Olga.

"Keep practicing, and one day, you’ll be a star too."

"Mama always says that whatever you do, don't give up, always try your best, even though it gets hard sometimes"

Olga nodded as she continued the conversation. Although it was ready quite late, she had started to wonder where Daisy's mother was.

"What you mama is true, speaking of her, where is she? Do you know?"

She said with a soft voice, Daisy only shook her head, not sure.

"Mama has a really important job. Maybe she's late because she's still working"

Just on cue, you came running on the pitch, Hair messy and looking tired, your also wearing a dark red suit and black heels. When Daisy noticed you, she grinned and ran towards you.

"Mama!!"

Daisy engulfed you into a hug and her smile brightened, while you were hugging Olga walked over.

"Flo did really well today. She has the potential to achieve something amazing in football"

You nodded as Daisy let go, listening in the conversation.

"That's good, yes, l remember Daisy has been interested in football ever since she can run. Whenever she sees a ball, she always runs and plays with it"

Olga chuckled, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Daisy.

"Well, she's got talent, that's for sure," she said warmly. "If she keeps practising, who knows? Maybe one day, she'll be able to play with me professionally in the pitch."

You smiled proudly, glancing down at your daughter, who was beaming from ear to ear.

"She’s always admired you, Olga,"

you admitted.

"Thank you for spending time with her today. It means the world to her—and to me."

Olga dismisses the thanks with a modest smile.

"It’s my pleasure. I remember being her age, dreaming of the big leagues. Sometimes, all it takes is someone showing a bit of faith to turn that dream into a reality."

Daisy, still clutching her signed notebook, looked up at Olga with stars in her eyes.

"Will you come back next Saturday?"

she asked eagerly, Olga crouched down to meet her gaze.

"Of course, Daisy. I’ll be here as long as you’re ready to work hard and have fun."

She gave her a playful wink, which made Daisy giggle. As you and Daisy started to leave, Olga had said something.

"And remember, don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can't do. Just keep believing in yourself!"

Daisy nodded, her little face serious with determination. Her hand clutched yours tightly as you walked away, her voice bubbling over with excitement.

"Mama, did you hear that? She believes in me!"

You smiled, squeezing her hand in return.

"I did, sweetheart. And I believe in you too. Just keep chasing that dream, and who knows where it'll take you."

A/N: l finally posted after a while 🤦‍♀️ l am currently editing my lia x reader story, l'll see yall then when l post it!

This is Theta signing out, see you next time!

[twilightsumu]

Episode #3: The Sun Always Shines on T.V | tlou k. nanami & y. itadori au

Summary: The Nanamis’ and Yuji are falling into familial bliss - a game is played where Yuji and Nanami realize they both hope for the same thing. Later on when a shocking discovery rocks Nanami’s core, he realizes that their hope may just be feasible, but at the expense of Yuji and of his wife’s growing love for the young boy. 

Genre/Warnings: tlou au, post-apocalyptic setting, discussions of infection and virus outbreaks, emotional distress (guilt, fear, anger, grief), heavy themes of loss and survival, death, violence, some suggestive act goes on (mdni), talks of pregnancy, some cursing, depictions of violence done on a child, talks of blood, talks of vomiting. 

Director’s Note: What a chapter! This chapter was a lot and I fear that every chapter after is going to BE A LOT. I just love these little characters so much. Thank you for reading - your comments, likes, and reblogs mean so much to me. Can you tell that I work with children, haha? I wanted to make sure Yuji’s child-like wonder spoke to you through these words. 

Keep an eye out for a possible extra :)

Word Count: 9.1K+

The light coming in from the windows behind them almost makes them look ethereal. Soft. The orangery hues of the sunset highlights the boy’s pink hair, creating our own personalized sunset in the living room of our shabby village offered apartment. The halo of light contrasting with the glow of laughter emitting from her eyes. 

She’s sitting across from me at the dining table, something I’m still not completely used to. I miss the slight brush of our arms whenever it was just us two and I was passing the salt over. Or the way I could just bring her chair closer if I felt she was too far, she usually wasn’t. Yuji is sitting to the right of her. Both of them laughing at something that happened during their day - a shared memory they’re now allowing me to join. A little sliver of their own world. 

This is the twenty-third dinner with Yuji. There are remnants of a world that is so loud compared to our world, just for us two. It is splattered around our apartment; an extra toothbrush in the bathroom (and toothpaste all over the sink after he’s done), children's books and graphic novels scattered around the library table, and paint colors - really just smears of dirt and water - cover ripped out coloring pages on our beaten-up fridge. He never did leave. And watching them from then to now, I don’t believe she would’ve let him. And me, I’ve always had trouble saying no to her.

No one questioned the new addition to our home. No one seemed to care. This pink haired boy and his litter of questions behind him were able to fit in. No lingering glances. No memories dragged back to the failing south side fence. Just him, as my wife’s shadow. 

“Mr. Nanami?” Two pairs of eyes on me, one pair that I could get lost in for the rest of my life and another pair that questions me and I question back. 

“Yuji?” I questioned back. 

“Me and Mrs. Nan-,” 

“Mrs. Nanami and I,” she corrects him. Her voice is soft and calming. 

“Right, Mrs. Nanami and I came up with a game.” Yuji tries to hide the embarrassment from his voice from getting corrected - the tint of pink on his cheeks didn’t get the memo. “Actually, Mrs. Nanami came up with it and I liked it.” 

“It’s okay, Yuji!” She smiles. “You could take credit. I don’t think I would’ve thought of the game without you.” Yuji smiles back at her, big and bright. I swallow down that little bout of jealousy that crawls at the back of my throat when I realize just how much of a world they created. Just for them, just theirs. My invitation somehow got lost in the mail. 

“What’s the game?”

“I haven’t thought of a name yet,” she grins and my heart lunges. I feel a grin creeping onto my face too. “…but basically every night at dinner, we’ll go around and everyone will tell us something good and bad that happened during their day. And-“ 

“Don’t we do that now? When we ask how everyone’s day was?” I wondered.

“Mr. Nanami, there’s more!” Yuji bellows, earning a chuckle from my wife. Her hand reaches out to his arm that wants to excitedly pump into the air. Something I’ve noticed he does often. 

“I’m not done, Ken,” she hums. 

“Sorry, love.” I mumble, feeling the tips of my ears getting warm. 

“Okay, so we’ll tell everyone something good and bad that happened during our days. And then we’ll finish it off with a hope that we have. Make your hope be as silly - or in your case,” she pauses and points at me, the sunlight catching the gold of her wedding ring perfectly, “as serious as you want it to be.” 

I roll my eyes at her dig, hiding the chuckle that wants to escape. 

“High, low, hopeful.” Yuji hums, more to himself.

“High, low, hope,” I drawl. 

Yuji’s wide eyes meet mine, and for the first time since he came here, I see the same expression in his gaze that I see in my wife’s.

He nods so hard I’m afraid he’s going to give himself a headache before we even start the game. But I can’t stop the smile spreading on my face - Yuji’s widens as mine grows.

“Perfect name, boys!” She yelps, her hand reaching to give his pink hair a ruffle. Her eyes find mine, the most beautiful smile etched on her lips. “I’ll go first!” 

“Can I go last?”

“You’re okay going after me, Kenny?” She nods to Yuji before looking at me for my answer.

“Fine with me.” 

“My high would be…” There’s a sweet smile on her face, like she’s reminiscing on a beautiful day. “That Ken did not wake me up before I was supposed to be up.”

A laugh escapes my throat so abruptly that it surprises me, and she laughs too. Our laughs weave together like a basket of our love. I think back on the petty arguments we used to have whenever I couldn’t resist waking her before I left for work. Just to give her one more kiss. Just to see one more smile.

After we calm down, I catch Yuji staring at us. His chin rests in his (my) hoodie-covered hands, his eyes flitting between my wife next to him and me on the opposite side of the table, like he’s studying our movements, trying to learn our rhythm so he can join in on the jokes from our life. The way I catch myself doing with theirs.

“My low would probably have to be that I finished my favorite book earlier,” she hums. I remember seeing A Grief Observed tucked on her side of the shelf.

“For the hundredth time,” I tease. From the corner of my eye, I catch Yuji watching the exchange - his gaze moving from the side of her face to the front of mine.

“It’s a good book!” she shrugs.

“Anyways, I am hoping that, with some special force in the universe, my beautiful, sweet, kind husband might possibly smuggle more chocolate for our new friend and me.” She wiggles her eyebrows and nudges Yuji’s side with her elbow, making him giggle. “Your turn, Mr. Kento Nanami,” she declares, bowing her head in faux regality.

“I’ll see what I can do, my lady,” I play along, sending her a wink.

“My high today would be that I didn’t trip on Yuji’s shoes when I walked in.” I shoot a fake stern look his way, and the laugh he lets out vibrates the empty dishes on the table.

“I’ve been trying my best, Mr. Nanami,” he says bashfully, laughter still in his voice.

“It’s okay. I’ve learned to jump over them when you forget.” I make sure to send him a smile.

“Thank goodness,” my wife mutters, rolling her eyes. “Yuji, if this old man trips on your shoes again, he may just break his hip.” She throws her hands up dramatically while Yuji throws his head back in stomach-aching laughter.

I almost wish I had a camera to capture this. Proof of their tiny world, with me still lingering at the edges.

“My low would be my wife calling me an old man.”

“Are you like, super old?” Yuji asks genuinely, and now it’s my wife who’s doubled over in laughter.

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth.

“I’m not old,” I huff. “She’s only a couple of months younger. So if I’m old, then so is she.”

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Hope! Chop chop, Ken!”

“My hope would be…” I debate going the playful route. But then the weight of work climbs up my spine and settles there. This always happens, the loud reminder in my bones that we aren’t living in regular times. “For a cure to be found.”

There’s a stillness in the air. One I immediately regret bringing in.

“Mr. Nanami?” Yuji’s voice is small and uncertain. A strange tightness tugs in my chest. His voice is child-like, but something in it feels older than it should. “What do you need for a…” he looks up at the ceiling. I glance at my wife - her smile has turned confused. “...a cure?”

“We don’t know,” I murmured. His eyes are everywhere but our faces. “I don’t think we’ll know until we meet people who can fight the infection on their own.”

“What does tha-”

“Yuji,” my wife interrupts, her voice soft but firm. “Why don’t you do your high, low, and hope? We don’t need to get into a science talk at the table.”

She sends me a look, and I rub my hands down my thighs.

“My high is that I found a copy of a book I used to read all the time before I lost it!” Yuji’s voice immediately bounces back to his usual tone - light and full of wonder.

“How fun!” she exclaims, her excitement mirroring his.

“My low is that the last page is missing and I don’t remember how it goes,” he pouts.

“What book?” I ask.

“Oh, The Places You’ll Go.”

“Oh,” my wife shifts in her seat like she’s preparing to perform.

“‘Your mountain is waiting. So… get on your way.’”

We both watch her in awe. Yuji smiles softly, and I feel one spreading across my own face.

“What?” she asks bashfully, her eyes bouncing from Yuji to me. “It’s a great book,” she mumbles, shoulders lifted in a shy shrug.

“We’ve got a librarian in the house,” I say to Yuji.

“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes. “Your hope, Yuji?”

“My hope…” Yuji looks down at the hoodie sleeves pooled around his small hands. “For a cure to be found.”

His eyes meet mine, and in that tiny shift, I feel it - that click. Like we’ve built our own little world now, too.

Journal Entry #456

Takuma Ino, average built, dark hair, friend, lower level lab assistant 

On a hunt, an infected was crawling in the long weeds - near the south side entrance. Ino didn't notice - no one else on the hunt didn't either.

Ino was bit near his left ankle, 

Infected was neutralized on the spot by Suguru Geto

Ino was taken immediately back to the lab where he is now being watched for signs of infection. 

No other reaction besides being afraid. 

Has asked if I could be the one to ‘finish’ him off when the infection overtakes him

1-6 Hours Since Bite:

Regular breathing patterns 

Fear - not talking much

Bloodshot eyes (could be because lighting - super bright)

Ino was offered food (rice, toast, tea, and fruit - strawberries) 

He does not have an appetite. 

Movements are regular, he is able to walk around the closed off room. No ultra quick movements happening

Also aware of bite, keeps looking at the bitten area

Listens to directions - able to place fingers where we tell him (nose, cheeks, stomach) 

Slight shoulder tremble (the left) - I believe it is because of fear. 

The area around the bite hasn't shown any signs of swelling, only the area where contact was met. 

No sign of tiredness

8-12 Hours Since Bite:

Eyes are even more bloodshot.

Ino has no desire to eat nor drink water. 

Trembling in his left shoulder is more persistent, harder. Right shoulder has started trembling as well. (Not from fear)

Hands are fidgety, left hand is rubbing the right hard - his fingers getting caught together because of how quickly he's rubbing them together. 

Area near the left ankle (bitten area) is red, braised, and slightly oozing a yellow substance. 

Mood has drastically changed - no longer fearful. Angry and short. 

Sweating profusely 

Movements around the room are fast, without any rhythm to them.  

Still able to communicate - knows who is talking to him and what we are talking about 

Still could follow directions given to him, however it is done sloppily

Has not slept yet

14-20 Hours Since Bite:

The swelling of the bite has spread, already reaching up to the middle of his calf. (Puss is a fragrant yellow, the bite area is a maroon red, like dried blood)

Ino still has not ate - no interest whatsoever. He was offered more toast, tea, strawberries, and chocolate. 

Still sweating profusely 

Super disoriented 

Suguru Geto entered the room to check vitals - Ino shielded himself away. Retracting into the corner. 

Geto was not allowed to get the vitals 

No sleeping yet

24-30 Hours Since Bite:

He has started slightly humming - to no rhythm just a low hum coming from the back of his throat

When asked about humming - he isn’t aware of it. However, he does not stop when we question it

Eyes are erratically moving - eyes quickly move from in side of the room to the other before narrowing down on one spot before quickly averting to something else

Communication has ceased - he understands what we are saying and would comply but he isn’t talking back. 

Hasn’t said a world since the 25th hour mark. 

Will only comply with things that Kento Nanami (me) says through the microphones. 

Does not react to other lab assistants

Sight of food enraged him - was offered the same food as before and furiously threw to the side

Skin had taken on a yellow/jaundice coloring. 

Lips are pale 

Eyes are cloudy and pupils are overblown - and his eyes are still bloodshot 

Hands can’t stay still, pulling at his hair, running along his legs, arms, anything he could touch on his body.  

48 Hours Since Bite: 

Ino Subject is no longer a reliable source of data

Subject has stopped responding to any stimuli.

The hum has gotten louder - like a swarm of bees erupting from his chest 

Subject’s entire left leg has swelled, yellow puss is leaking from pores, thick crimson veins are scattered from the bite up to his groin. 

Very sensitive to sound - screeches or bare teeth when a sound passes into his threshold. (Sounds as quiet as whispers from lab assistants passing by subjects room)

At any slight movement or sound - subject is ready to attack (pounces on walls, the door, the humming intensifies)

No form of life in eyes - very clouded, vacant look. 

Subject was neutralized by me and buried past the South Gate entrance. 

Ino’s hat is in my back pocket, a revolver in the waistband of my jeans, my journal tucked in my arms, and tiredness rattling the inside of my bones.

My wife is walking next to me, our hands together - mine holding on a little tighter. Yuji is a few beats ahead of us, kicking rocks as he walks. Every couple of steps, he steps into a light cloud of dust.

The sun is setting. The usual orangey skies are grayish, storm clouds rolling in and making the sky look almost ominous. Like it’s going to swallow us whole and not let us out. A few shops on the south side of the village are still open - their lights elongating our shadows, lighting up the path to the gray sky.

I’m so deep in thought that I don’t even notice we’re steps away from the gate. It looks even more shoddy in the nightfall - the fence around it is misshapen, and on the left, I can make out the little opening where Yuji must’ve been sneaking in. An opening so small to my frame, I can’t imagine how he maneuvered through without causing a ruckus… or even getting hurt in the process.

Help yourself help others, is scribbled on the failing fence. I almost want to scoff out loud now when reading the motto that is forced down our throats. I quickly avert my eyes back to Yuji’s opening. 

Since the lab assistants and I do regular patrols around this area beyond the gate, I assume that’s why it’s not as well maintained as the north side. Still, three days ago being a prime example - we’ve seen an influx of straggler-type infected laying low here. I’m surprised Yuji made it out on his own.

“You okay?” she asks, head tilted up to meet my face. Her hand is so warm, so soft in mine. It makes me forget about the three days at the lab. It almost makes me forget about losing a friend - no, a coworker.

I shrug, feeling more tired than anything. I reach in my back pocket, and the feeling of Ino’s hat makes my chest hurt a little. The sun is almost fully down now, the moonlight peeking through the storm clouds. If I train my ears, I can hear the low rumble of thunder rolling in.

“Mrs. Nanami!” Yuji yells, waving his hand in the air to get her attention. He’s standing a little ways away from us, the graying sky behind him clashing with his yellow hoodie, wide bright brown eyes, and pink hair. A happy sunrise melting into a storm-ridden night.

“Is it okay if I check this out?” He throws his thumb behind him, pointing to logs piled up against the leaning fence. Logs that are supposed to be used to reinforce this side.

The pile is stacked hazardously -  logs balanced on top of each other, basically making a narrow alley between the stack and the fence it leans against. Yuji looks so small standing next to it. The logs go up at least seven feet high. It looks daunting during the day, and in the graying sky it looks even more so. 

Yuji is bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the okay to run off. His hands are fidgeting near his pockets and that usual boyish grin smeared across his face. 

“What is so interesting about a pile of sticks?” I whisper to her.

“I don’t have an answer for you,” she says, a light laugh leaving her lips. Her eyes are on Yuji, so I could only see the side of her face. The light breeze twirling her hair around her ear, shielding her eyes away from me even more. “He finds joy and playfulness in everything,” she shrugs, a content smile tugging at her mouth. “Or he’s about to climb and jump off of them and possibly break his leg or something. I don’t know.” A gust of wind brushes past us, carrying the concern laced in her voice around us.

“Sure, Yuji!” she nods, and Yuji is already turning to head over. “Just make sure you tie your shoes!” she yells after him. 

With that, Yuji runs off. Puffs of dust trailing behind him as he kicks off and heads to a makeshift playground that is most definitely going to be the creator of broken bones. 

She sighs next to me, a wistful sigh leaving her mouth. She quickly averts her eyes from the running boy and looks at me. Her eyes remorseful and the grip on my hand a little tighter. 

“You never answered if you were okay or not?” 

“I shrugged. Isn’t that an answer,” I answer, hating the tone that I am using with her. 

“No, that isn’t an actual answer, smart ass,” she huffs, rolling her eyes towards the evening sky. There isn’t any annoyance evident in her actions. 

“I’ll be okay, I guess,” I reply, watching her watch me - as if she's looking for another answer I know only she could coax out of me. “I’m just tired,” I finished, averting my eyes to the employee entrance. Where Ino and I last walked together, just a couple of days ago. 

“Physically or emotionally?” 

“Both,” her thumb rubs my knuckles. “I’m getting tired of watching people get taken by this…” I stop and just look ahead at the gravesite I’m about to walk through to get to Ino’s plot. 

“Want me to go with you?” 

“No, it’s alright,” I take my hand out of hers, reaching for the hat in the back pocket and shivering at the cold revolver pressing into my back. “I don’t want to smuggle you in,” I try to joke, earning a very stern look and another eye roll, one that has annoyance etched into it. “Also, one of us should be watching Yuji on that death trap.” I point my thumb to the log playground where we see Yuji trying to climb on the structure. 

“I’m pretty sure that boy could live through anything,” she laughs, a real one. Not one being masked with concern or the weight of my feelings, or the scary gray sky that wants to swallow us. A laugh like the days before there were infected crawling around, before we had to squeeze into this shabby apartment, or before that pink hair kid eased his way into our homes and her heart. When it was just us. 

“I’ll be here, even if you don’t need me,” she smiles, her left hand squeezing my shoulder as I start my walk out the safety of her laugh and deeper into the graying sky. 

“You know I’ll always need you.” 

“I know,” she says to my back, and I feel the warmth of this little interaction fighting with the warmth of Ino’s hat. 

As soon as I walk out of the gate, a light rain starts and I try to speed walk to Ino’s recently dug up grave. His is actually not that far from the entrance I am walking through, but with the heaviness of the day and the sludge on the ground below me, the walk is longer than I anticipated. 

There is a sort of peaceful eeriness weaving through the air. It is quiet, dark, and the light raindrops are starting to feel nice on my clammy skin. But at the same time, the quiet was that type that took hold of your bones and held you down, with a promise that something is going to happen. The quiet that keeps your head on a swivel because you're not sure what is going to catch you in its grasp. 

I make it to the unnamed plot - the one I dug up alone and the one where I had to set Ino’s infected riddled body into earlier this morning. I am not completely sure what to do here or why I even decided to come to his plot. I have seen multiple people be taken from this infection, I am aware that there are no words to be had before and after the ordeal. It happens and then they're gone. 

I am squatting right by the plot, Ino’s hat now in my hands and my journal laying by my feet. I do not know what to say, or do, or even think. Again, I am not sure why I am here. 

I place his hat on the plot, knowing by tomorrow, the wind might just flitter it away with his dreams and inspirations as well. 

“I’m sorry,” I say to the air, hoping that wherever Ino is, he knows how sorry I am. 

I stay there for a minute, a feeling of sorrow that I know we'll never escape filling my chest. 

Right before I hear it, there is stillness in the air. A bird flying by and giving a calling cry to warn others of the storm brewing. And then a scream, so bone chilling, I freeze for a second. Then, I hear it again and I register that it is my wife's voice. A scream I have never heard, from her.

My blood runs cold and I run as fast I could to her. 

I’m met with a bleeding Yuji, clutching his left arm. His eyes were so wide, even in the dimming evening sky I could make out his brown orbs. My wife is a few feet away from him, her back to me but I catch the fear that's radiating through her shivering body.

Coming out of that little alleyway is an infected - the person could not have been older than Yuji. In torn clothing, a purple graphic tee with a cartoon character I have no idea is, ripped up blue jeans and no shoes. Their matted hair is separated in two pigtails, obviously telling me someone cared enough to have their hair done. The infected is moving so slowly, like a slug on a very wet branch. Their hand grabbing into the earth and pulling their limp legs behind them as they crawl towards the three of us. A slight tremble in their movement, as if it hurts them to move at all. 

Their yellowish eyes are locked on Yuji, who is jumping away and still clutching his arm. The one that's bleeding, the left sleeve of his hoodie ripped. The infected’s face is riddled with grime and dried blood I would assume. Their protruding veins make the grime stand out even more. Their face in a permanent scowl, as if they are blaming us for the way they are. As if there is something we could do. 

The scene freezes me in place. I feel every ounce of blood drain into the puddle at my feet.  The infected was laying low, possibly even trying to find shelter - just like what Yuji did for three months before she smuggled him in. I don’t give much thought on how my heart sank, imagining this could have been Yuji’s fate instead. 

Yuji must have been caught off guard - bitten before he could even jump out of the way. The alleyway between the logs and the fence is a perfect breeding place for scary things to be hiding in the shadows. 

In one quick, but devastating movement, just as thunder rang out and shook the ground below us. I took out my revolver and shot the infected, talking them out of their misery but filling the air with more. A yelp rings out of Yuji, as his eyes filter down to the dead infected and his grip on his left arm tightens. I move my revolver to point at the pink haired boy. 

“Kento. Yuji needs help,” I ignore her. The duty of knowing what I have to do weighs so heavy on my shoulders, I feel like I'm about to be dragged down to hell. She starts to inch closer to him, her arms out. Like a mother to their child that just scraped their knee. 

“Get behind me,” I rush out, almost reaching out to drag her back. Her movement is quick but hesitant. She turns to me, fear in her eyes and she softly shuffles behind me. I feel her tug at my jacket. 

Yuji is watching us, like he does at the dinner table. His eyes wide and his feet shuffling from side to side. Whenever our eyes catch each other's, he skips the revolver being pointed to him and stares at me, as if he's trying to worm himself into my brain to see what I'm thinking. I feel sick, and I hope he can pick up on that. 

“We could help him,” she whispers. And at this moment, I realized I haven't heard a word come out of Yuji’s mouth. It makes me uncomfortable thinking about this boy who talks through everything being as quiet as the night sky. The gun feels wrong being pointed at him.

For the first time ever I don't want to use it - even if it's to protect her. 

“And how will we do that?” I say, my eyes are not leaving Yuji’s. The heavy rain is making the blood wash off him. 

“How are you feeling?” I call out to him. I ignore how stupid this all is, I know how he is feeling. I know what happens next. 

“I promise I’m okay!” He yells, he moves his hands above his ears. His wide eyes are bouncing from the revolver, my wife, and I. It's as if right at this moment, he understood the implication for what was about to happen. “This has happened before and I was okay,” he rushes out. 

Everything inside me slams to a stop. As if a wire has snapped in my chest. As if the earth, the rain, the boy - none of it makes sense anymore. 

“What do you mean this happened before?” I say, trying to steady my voice. I feel bile making its way up my throat. 

“With my Grandpa,” his voice is lower, his eyes quickly looking at his shoes, “I got bit before, when I was with him.”

“You knew about this?” I steady my voice, briefly glancing at my wife. She’s standing so still, I could mistake her as one of the logs from the death trap behind him. 

I do not know how to take this statement. Is he lying to get out of me having to kill him?

“No,” she whispers, finally moving by shaking her head gently. A huge raindrop falls on my glasses frame and the moment looks distorted before the drop slides down. “Yuji, what do you mea-“

“I could show you the other bite mark,” he whispers, his eyes filled with guilt rather than fear. “Is it okay if I move to show you?” His eyes are staring back into mine, as if this is the little world we created but instead of laughs and painting like the one he created with my wife - ours is overflowing with fear, questions, and the fact that neither of us would ever truly know the other. It brings me back to that little moment we had at the dinner table during our game. We thought we understood each other but here we are - questioning the intentions of the other. 

At this very moment, it’s as if she didn’t speak. As if we can’t both see her trembling, as if I can’t feel her breathe. It’s just our world - the pink haired alien and I. A world I never asked to be apart. One that was thrust into my home and etched its way into every little thing that I do. 

I don’t know what to do at this moment. The revolver feels heavy and my hands are so sweaty I think it’s about to slip out of my hand anyway. The rain is picking up and moving with the cold sweat dripping from my body. The warmth of Ino’s hat and my wife’s laugh from some time ago has disappeared. 

“Are you going to hurt me if I move, Nanami?” The informalness of the questions throws me off guard. His usual child-like voice is cold, hard, and wobbling with guilt. 

“He isn’t, I promise Yu-“

“Mr. Nanami, are you going to h-“

Words fail to leave my mouth, so I just shake my head no. However, I dont drop the revolver, it is getting heavier by the minute. 

Yuji moves slowly, not dropping his eyes from mine and it truly feels like we are the only two people on the planet. Just us two and his bites. 

He hikes up the leg of his right pants leg, and there it is - even in the light of the moon and the haziness of the rain falling in front of us. A bite, the veins protruding and the scar is enough to make my breath hitch in my chest and I feel like I need an asthma pump to help me get my breathing flowing again. 

“I just slept after and nothing happened,” he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Slept?”

“Yes, my Grandpa said I slept for fifteen hours after,” the child-like humor is in his voice, his eyes are still wide with guilt. 

“You don’t sleep after getting bit. No one we have studied sleeps after,”  I narrow my eyes at him. 

“Well I did,” he says back, a defensive tone I have never heard in his voice bites hard and I'm taken back. 

“I’m telling you I am fine,” the fear and guilt is starting to escape his voice. He wants to be understood, believed. 

“What else happened,” I pointed my chin down at his leg, “when you got bit?” 

“It itched,” he shrugs, as if we’re asking about a mosquito bite. “Nothing else happened. Not that I really remember,” his bloodied arm reached to scratch at the back of his head. Red streaks of blood mixing with his pink hair. 

“You’re telling me that your body fought this infection by sending you to sleep for fifteen hours and having the bite mark be itchy?” Work rushes to my mind. Is he what we need? Is this boy who my wife smuggled in the answer? 

“I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders again. I don't miss the eye roll, as if he is the one being bothered by the discovery of what this could do for everyone. 

“I could maybe find some ointment,” my wife’s voice from behind us brings us both back from our world. His eyes are questioning, as if he forgot she was here, as if it is hard to believe she would do that. "To help with the itchiness."

The domesticity she is bringing to this fucked situation angers me for a minute. I roll off the tension from my shoulders and keep my eyes trained on Yuji. 

“You don't have to do that Mrs. Nanami,” he smiles at her. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I know you would be Yuji,” she whispers back and I don't miss how Yuji’s eyes widen with trust, with love. Happy to be believed.

I ignore their little moment and think back to dinner a couple days ago, when we first played that game and our hopes. I think back to Ino and just watching this infection eat his body, mind, and soul for days. Think back to work and Geto, the fears of having to watch experiments be done on pregnant women for a cure. 

A cure. 

A person able to fight the infection. 

A cure. 

Instead of fear and confusion, hope starts to course its way into my chest. Mixed with guilt, because what does this mean for Yuij? What does this mean for my wife and her love for this child? 

“I just want to sleep now,” Yuji says, a yawn ripping out of his chest. The rain is pelting us hard. “Is that okay if we go home?” 

I want to tell him yes. I know she wants to tell him yes. We’ll take you to our home. But now, home is a battlefield too. 

The lights are off, the moon highlighting little things around the living room. A spotlight on Yuji’s blue backpack. His red shoes - the ones I tripped over this morning. A copy of an old Spider-Man comic and Oh, The Places You’ll Go that are tucked in the cushion where his head lays. The old, rickety fan wobbles on the coffee table in front of the couch where Yuji lies sleeping, the moonlight shining on him so brightly I’m shocked he hasn’t covered his eyes with the quilt. He looks calm - hands curled under his squished cheek, pink hair messily plastered to his forehead. He’s curled up in a fetal position. He looks smaller than he actually is. Somehow, there's still the feather of a grin on his lips.

Next to me, she shifts, and from the movement alone, I can tell she’s antsy. Either from what we possibly found out, the implication of what this means for us.. for him, or... everything.

I still feel numb, like I’m floating on a gray cloud that’s waiting to erupt into a storm. A cold sweat is still coating my back and making my hands feel slimy. 

“Kento,” she whispers, her hand grazing mine. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I smile softly, hiding the chuckle that wants to escape at her childish phrasing. Her hand is fully in mine now, our cool wedding bands brushing as our warmer hands press together and the movement makes me feel grounded at the moment. Her question almost made me forget what we have sleeping in front of us. 

“If you’re referring to Yuji, then yes. We’re thinking about the same thing,” I whisper back. “How could we not?” My voice seems like it belongs to someone else, it sounds vacant and chilling even to my own ears. 

Her hand twitches in mine, the movement so sudden that I shift my eyes from the boy on our couch to her tense frame beside me.

“I don’t think we’re on the same page,” she admits. She’s still staring at Yuji. The rickety fan sends strands of hair swaying near her ear.

“What do you mean?” I keep my voice even. “What page are you on?” I bring our joined hands into my lap and look back toward Yuji.

“We’re not giving him to science,” she whispers so fast I would’ve missed it if I’d moved. “I know he seems like a breakthrough, but we can’t do that to him.” In the dim light, the sadness in her voice adds another layer to the eerie quiet of the day.

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Both, I guess,” she says, letting go of my hand to rub both of hers down her face. “He’s just a child, Kento.”

“I know. You remind me every time we talk about him,” I say, my voice hard. 

From the corner of my eye I watch her turn to look at me. Her eyes filled with an emotion I don’t think I would’ve ever seen from her - distrust. I almost want to run to the bathroom and hurl. Her eyes are racking over the side of my body, the same side she wakes up too whenever we somehow end up in a different sleeping position than our regular one. 

The foreign look in her eyes throws me off because it's the first time I've seen it etched into her eyes. Eyes I have memorized, the way she has memorized the words from A Grief Observed. Even then, I don't think that the feeling shouldn't be running through her. I do not know if I deserve her trust when it comes to Yuji. Not if I'm sitting here wondering what we could trade him for. A cure? Safety? To go back to when it was just us again? 

“The world shouldn’t be placed on his shoulders just because he might be useful to someone’s plan.” Her words float through the room like a sad melody. “I know your loyalties lie with the sc-”

“My loyalties lie with you,” I cut in, a huff escaping me, annoyance melting into my voice. Her hand slides back into mine, palm to palm, and presses gently. I almost shudder at the touch this time around. 

Yuji shifts on the couch. A soft snore slips from his lips, and his left foot kicks the quilt halfway off. There’s no sign of infection threading through his bloodstream, nothing waiting to take his life - or ours. Just a kid. Just a sleeping child who makes you want to curl up beside him on the floor and fall asleep too. Bodies nestled together, warm, safe, loved.

“Ken,” she sighs. “If anyone finds out what he is…” She pauses. “We won’t get to choose what happens next.” Another sigh, but this one catches in her throat. “I don’t want to lose him too,” she confesses.

Her words gnaw their way into my chest. A part of me -  the part that should be angry that she’s poked a hole in our little bubble - realizes it doesn’t want to lose him either. I don’t even know what to do with him, but the idea of him being gone. I know it’ll hurt her in ways I’m too selfish to understand. 

“But, thi-”

“No. I don’t care what ‘this’ is,” she shakes her head slightly, eyes still on Yuji. “…He deserves to climb that mountain.” And I smile faintly at the book reference from a few days ago.

“If he makes that choice?” I ask, the pressure of work and our discovery quickly washing the smile off my face. 

“He can make the choice, but…” Her voice trails off into silence. “…It’s not going to be given to him,” she says finally, gripping my hand tighter. “He’s going to be a child, and I want us to make sure of that.” 

“They want to start experimenting on pregnant women,” I whisper into the night. The conversation that has been haunting my thoughts since I had to take part of it finally entered the air stream to be heard by someone else. 

“That has nothing to do with him,” she whispers back. I don’t miss the shock that’s evident in her voice though. 

I don’t think I could hide the anger bubbling in my gut. The dismissal of others putting their lives on the line and losing their lives with an ugly infection. 

“Why do you want to save him?” 

“Because no one else would,” there’s no anger in her voice. She doesn’t want to fight. But her words are definite and filled with a hopeful tint and I can’t understand where it’s coming from. 

I know she is right. I know how it feels to fiercely protect something that is yours. But knowing, it doesn't make the anger any less suffocating. 

Not knowing what to say, we sat in a silence that crawled up my back - thick with the weight of today, my wife’s words protecting this boy, and the horrors of my job.

Eventually, she sleepily shuffled off to bed, and I stayed.

Just sitting there.

Watching the boy.

Sitting in the questions that kept brewing in my gut, the snores of the possible infected boy, and the waft of breeze coming from the rickety fan. Sitting there more infected with hope than I wanted to admit.

My eyes are heavy, like the curtains blocking the rosy colors of the sunrise trying to peek into the room. There’s barely any light - just the soft glow that creeps in under a doorway. Funnily enough, those thin streaks of light are hitting the boy on our couch perfectly.

If it weren’t for that light, I would’ve missed the way his eyes opened and how he immediately gripped his chest. Like he was in pain; not physical, but emotional. The kind of pain that makes you clutch your shirt like something’s trying to rip your heart out. His eyes are wide, his hands tightly gripping the hoodie.

I’m sitting on the couch across from him, so still I can’t even feel myself breathe. My thoughts are bouncing between my wife in the bedroom and the switchblade Yuji had, now tucked in the waistband of my pajama pants. I’ve been up all night, barely breathing, just waiting. Waiting to see if what he said was true. Waiting to see if I’d have to kill a child to protect my wife. Waiting to see if he’d be okay.

What kind of man am I, waiting for a child to prove that he deserves to live? 

Yuji’s fully awake now. His breathing is steady, and in the little light, his eyes look normal, just tired. His movements are exactly what you’d expect from someone coming out of sleep. He’s small, fragile. A child. His bedhead is almost laughable, and his fists are tight, one at his chest, the other rubbing sleep from his eyes. He opens his mouth in soft little yawns, one after another.

“Show it to me,” I say into the quiet room.

Yuji jumps a little and snaps his head toward me. His eyes are wide, lips pulled into a guilty frown. I ignore the way it makes my chest ache.

He lifts the sleeve of his left arm quickly, almost too quickly, trying to prove that what he told us was true. His arm looks too thin, too small. Like he never had a chance to fight back. The bandages she wrapped around his arm before he fell asleep are still tight, and underneath... It just looks like a regular bite. As if he got into a scuffle on the school playground and the other kid bit him. Swollen, but not infected. 

I check the clock. It’s almost been twelve hours. By now, it should be bruised, oozing pus. He should be trembling, sweating, short of breath. But he’s not. He shouldn't even be waking up from a nap.

Here is a boy, just sitting here. Afraid, remorseful, human. 

And I am the man who spent all night sitting here, hand on a weapon, his weapon- waiting to kill him if he twitched wrong. Waiting to see if we could use his body for some problem he did not create. 

The thought is ugly and crawls up my throat like bile. 

“Show me the other bite.”

He hikes up the right leg of his pants, and again, nothing. Just a scarred leg with a possible bite mark. The veins around it are slightly dark, the vine-like veins around the bite are protruding, but that’s all. No swelling. No pus. Nothing I’ve seen before on a recently bit or infected person.

Just the leg of a child who trusted us enough to fall asleep on our couch. 

“Where is Mrs. Nanami?” he asks, voice soft, childlike. Like a toddler asking for their favorite teddy bear.

I want to ignore him. I want to tell him he doesn’t deserve to know. That I don’t want him anywhere near her because he’s not safe.

“She’s in bed,” I say instead, jerking a thumb toward the bedroom. “She stayed up for a while to make sure you were okay.”

“I know.” He shifts upright, eyes still locked on the floor. “I know I said I didn’t get bit,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost shaking. “But I did. You know now. I should’ve just told you.”

I nod, even though he isn’t looking at me.

“I didn’t say anything because… I know what happens when people get bit.” He glances up at me, and I remember having to point a weapon at him. “I didn’t want to die.”

His voice is so soft I have to lean forward just to hear it.

“You could’ve told her,” I say. Because I know, and he knows, that she would’ve protected him. She believes him.

“I didn’t want you to be mad at her,” he whispers back. The realization that in his own little way, he was protecting my wife has me moving to readjust my glasses. He is not afraid for himself. He is afraid for her. 

We go quiet. The only sound is his occasional yawn, soft and sleepy. It hums through the room, warm and sad.

“Mr. Nanami?” he asks, eyes wide and searching. “Remember when we were playing that game and started talking about a cure?”

“Yeah,” I say, my heart already sinking. But my brain jumps back to that talk with Geto. My brain jumps to the possibilities he may be able to bring. 

“You think…” He shrugs, shoulders curling toward his ears. “You think since I’m okay… they could fix all this?” He gestures with a little circle of his hand.

“You should get more sleep,” I say, ignoring the question. Because the answer is too big, too dangerous, and too unclear. Because what he’s asking could change everything, or destroy him, maybe even possibly destroy my wife and I. 

This is Yuji and I’s world - a ticking time bomb of questions that neither of us could answer. 

“I’m sorry for lying.” He curls further into the couch, legs folded beneath him. “I’m sorry for knowing.”

That last part hits me hard. Like something’s slammed into my chest. It does not sound like a child apologizing for a mistake, but a confession. The anger and confusion are gone for a minute. Now I’m just sitting in despair. 

“It’s okay,” I say, finally. “You’re just a child.”

A couple days later…

Her legs are straddling my hips. One of my hands is tangled in her hair as I pull her face closer to mine. Our lips are locked in a fight of power. Hungry. Urgent. My other hand is not so gently gripping her hip, acting as a grounding act between us. I don’t miss the slight, teasing grind against me.

“Ken,” she whines, breaking the kiss. My lips, wanting to stay busy - starts trailing kisses down from her jaw to her delicate neck. “We have to be quiet,” she whispers. 

“Huh?” I mutter on her collarbone, already tugging my shirt up and over her head. She leans back to help, introducing more skin for my mouth to chase. “Why?” 

“Because we have a kid in our living room,” she mumbles. 

“We don’t have a kid,” I mumble, my lips finding their way back to her jawline. “And what? People with kids still have sex,” 

“Mrs. Nanami?” I hear the creak of the floorboard right outside our bedroom. “Mr. Nan-“ 

“One second,” we both yell in unison. I throw the blanket over myself - hiding a very obvious situation. My wife rushes to find the shirt we just discarded. Once found, she’s running to the door, sending me a playful wink before creaking the door open. 

“Hi Yuji,” she answers breathlessly, her hands smoothing down her hair. “Are you okay?” The warmth in her voice sends a little pang of guilt to my chest.

“I think so,” I can’t see him, but I could imagine that awkward, boyish grin etched on his face. “I think something is going on, though.” 

“Something with you?” I ask, harder than I intended. I start to inch out of the bed, looking for my own pants around the floor. My wife looks back at me, sending me a sharp look. 

“No, uh, not me,” he says softly and I instantly regret my previous tone. “Outside. I hea-“ before he could finish, I heard it too. 

A shriek.

Then another. 

Then several - shrill. All different tones and melodies to them, creating a soundtrack from a nightmare.

They sound far away. But close enough, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to prick. They shouldn’t be so close to our home. At least, the sound of how many are coming our way. 

“Hear what?” My wife shyly asks - as if she's embarrassed that she isn’t in on what we could hear. I don’t miss the waiver of fear that trembles at the end of her question. She turns around to give me a look, and she sees that my pants are on and I’m looking outside of our window. “Ken?” She whispers.

“Both of you,” I say as I start looting around our room. “Get dressed now!” I bark. 

I hear Yuji’s feet running back to the living room and it takes me a couple seconds to realize, I don’t hear my wife. 

I turn towards her and she isn’t moving.

Not even breathing hard like I am.

She is standing in the middle of the room like she forgot how to be a person. 

Arms crossed, hugging herself, nails digging into the sleeves. 

Shoulders hunched up around her ears.

Her hands are trembling so hard I can see them from across the room. Her lips are parted but no sound is coming out.

It's not fear. 

It's heartbreak. 

“Again?” Her whole body seems to ask before she lets it slip from her lips. “We have to leave and run again?” 

“Do you trust me?” I say, walking towards her. My eyes are not on her, as they are shifting through our room looking for things that are easy to pick up. I notice A Grief Observed laying on her bookshelf, and I make a mental note to grab it on the way out. 

All I hear is her breathing; shallow, uneven, like she's holding the world's weight in her lungs. A part of me itches to run to her, to take her face between my hands and make sure she is still here with me - here and real and willing. She is still mine. 

“Yes,” she breathes out. Yuji thrashing around in the living room and the chaos rising outside is louder than she is. 

I finally look over at her properly and for a moment, the fear vanishes. 

Just like that night five years ago, the moonlight catches her in a soft halo, outlining her trembling figure in silver. The way her knees slightly buckle, then stiffen, like she's fighting every instinct that screams at her collapse.

Even now, she looks so heartbreakingly beautiful that my breath catches at the bottom of my throat. The world outside howls. But here, for just a second, it's only her and me and the moon.

“We’ll be okay,” I whisper, closing some distance between us. On the floor between us, the moonlight reflects her restless hands, my arms reaching out both our shadows stretching and overlapping. “We made it out okay before.” 

“All of us. All three of us,” She says, her voice cracking as she avoids my eyes. “Will we be okay?”

I hesitate. Just a beat too long. Almost as if I forgot the weight that Yuji now carries in our lives. 

“Sure,” I say. “All three of us.” But even as I say it, I'm grabbing only two bags. Moving on instinct. Pretending I don't feel the weight of that slip between my ribs. 

“Two minutes,” I yell into the apartment, because if I stay in this moment, if I look at her again under that terrible, beautiful moonlight, I won't move at all. 

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[romanscool]

Maxiel as a reward pretty please?

#24: a kiss as a reward - maxiel

hi anon!! thanks so much for this ask (and sorry for the long time it has taken me to write it) I had a lot of fun with this one!!

hope this is what you had in mind <3

enjoy!

->

Max looks so fucking young like this. Standing on a higher step than two fucking world champions, cheeks smushed in a big, big smile that takes up his whole face, eats at it, and makes him glow.

Kimi and Seb looking at him like he’s an enigma, wonder in their eyes and reflecting Max’s shimmer on his skin, race suits full of lukewarm champagne, stale and so disgusting, but also so so good, and Daniel knows it. How fucking good it feels. He’s known it for two years and he relishes on how it looks on Max. Young, eighteen year old, Barcelona Formula One Grand Prix winner, Max.

Daniel doesn’t see it from below the podium, though. He’s a bit too sour for that right now. The sight of Max on the big TV sweetens him, but, he won’t really admit it. 

Daniel sees it from his driver room, slumped and half-lied down on a too-stiff sofa, the same kind Red Bull introduced to him when they did this first-race interview for Max. The sun from outside is shining directly into his eyes, bright and low because it’s almost evening, but Daniel can’t do so much as squinting. It’s like his eyes have to take all of this is fucking 4K. It hurts, burns. Lukewarm and stale. So, so good.

He watches as red spreads on Max’s face from ear to ear, makes the navy blue of his fireproofs pop out, and the dirty blondish short hair look even more sweaty. Champagne-y. He watches as Max takes the big trophy in his hands and holds it until his fingertips turn white, watches him tuck too-short hair behind his ear and replace the cap on his baby face. He watches as Max takes big and heavy steps and gets off the podium, watches him until he can’t anymore because the camera doesn’t show him. He watches on as if Max would suddenly get in frame again, but. He doesn’t.

Daniel’s retina have a sun print on them, all silhouette-shaped with wide pale hands in tight fists like it’s taking everything for him not to touch. 

He closes his eyes until all he can see is ocean-blue irises and a flush that doesn’t seem to ever disappear. Closes them so hard that splotches of color appear in his vision like teenage pimples on Max’s jaw. Until they twirl and make him nauseous with the motion, until he feels like he is falling low, low, lower than he’s ever fallen before, until-

« Daniel. » 

Max’s voice breaks through. Catches Daniel’s hand that he wasn’t reaching out, pumps oxygen that he never inhaled for, stops him from drowning when all he wanted to do was wave his hands in the deep end-sand. 

« Max. » Daniel can feel himself smiling. He forgets to be sour. He forgets the shit team strategy. He forgets to remember one day, Max will be better than him.

Daniel hears ruffles behind him, because he still has his back turned to Max, lying in the sofa with his legs half bent on himself. Sitting criss cross with his fingers intertwined above his head. He still has his eyes closed. So, he opens them. He’s met with wide red-brimmed eyes and a fucking smile that Daniel wishes he could carve in his heart.

« Daniel. » Max comes closer, impossibly closer, so close the front of his shin almost touches Daniel’s knee. Daniel can see the peach fuzz sitting so prettily on it and has to tear his eyes from it before he starts thinking crazy thoughts, « Daniel, did you see? » 

Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max gets like this. Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max is still a kid. Eighteen. A teenager. It’s still pretty anchored in his mind, and that’s mostly why he hasn’t allowed himself to think foresaid crazy thoughts, and it’s also hard to ignore when his dad comes to nearly every fucking race, and that barely six months ago, Max wasn’t even allowed to drive a car. A regular car, that is, because Max is a fucking menace that gets a super license to drive race cars at 300 kilometers per hour without being of age. Fuckin’ monster. 

But, it’s also easy to forget. When Max wins a fucking Grand Prix for example. When Max talks with the engineers like he fucking belongs, like he’s been doing this all his life, and Daniel guesses he has, in a way. 

Except right now, Max is asking Daniel if he’s seen him. Like a kid asking their dad if he’s seen him win a dumb challenge in school, a football match by a couple points. Like Daniel was not driving a car at the same time Max was winning the race.

Daniel shakes his head. « Yeah, Max, I did. » It’s not a lie, per se, because Daniel has seen the replay. Has seen Max cross the line and nearly cry all over himself. Daniel realizes he’s never seen Max cry. He’s pretty sure he’d be pretty anyway. 

Max watches him with stars in his eyes. Like it’s the most important thing anyone has ever told him and Daniel feels crazy with it, with Max’s, Barcelona Grand Prix winner Max’s, attention. With the wonder and amazement. Daniel suddenly feels very big. 

« I’m proud of you, Maxy. » He doesn’t know where the nickname comes from, worries for a second that maybe it’s fucking weird, because it would be in normal circumstances, if it was anyone but Max, but Max doesn’t seem to mind it. He’s got his face contorted in this half-downturned smile that Daniel finds so fucking sweet, glisten on his cheek from the mix of sweat and champagne, some among his dark eyelashes clump together. He kind of looks like a girl. 

And, God, Max just whimpers. Like. A throaty, high-pitched sound that Daniel doesn’t think he has ever heard in his life but god, he wants to hear it again. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t. 

Max doesn’t make that sound again. He flushes a deep dark red that reminds Daniel of the beetroots his grandpa used to grow in the back of his garden. « Really? » Max asks. It’s gentle. Too gentle. Max should be fully pumped with post-race adrenaline, and even more with post-first-race-win adrenaline, and he kind of looks like he is, softly panting, cap slightly tilted to the side and retinas so wide Daniel worries if Max isn’t on LSD or something. If maybe he isn’t on LSD himself because in a way, this doesn’t feel like something real. 

« Fuck, yeah, Max. » Daniel chuckles a little, and he sees Max’s shoulder just slump. One quick motion of down, down, down, until they’re limp on each side of his waist. Daniel can even see it, his waist, clearly, so clear, too clear, a little transparent and tight because Red Bull didn’t have the time to measure him for well-proportioned fireproofs. « You did great. » 

Max nips at his lips. His full, plump and pinkish lips. They look even more vibrant among the red of his cheeks. « You think? » Max asks again, and Daniel realizes he’s asking for validation. Daniel doesn’t really answer, just nods profusely like a mad man because he’s not sure what his mouth will want to say after this revelation. Max is so, so young. Too fucking young. Fuck.

Max nods too. His smile tones down a little, and he looks tired now. Post-first-race-win-adrenaline crash or something, Daniel guesses. It doesn’t get easier. 

He sits next to Daniel, their thighs brushing against each other, connected from shoulder to hips. Max rests his head on the back of the sofa and Daniel finds it very hard not to watch the whole motion, not to focus on the way his throat works. Up, and down. Up again before Max sighs.

The words blurts out of Daniel’s mouth before his brain can even form them, « You’re gonna get so many drinks free tonight, mate. » 

It seems to make Max chuckle though. The winkles that had started to form on his forehead ease a little. « Yeah? » 

« Yeah. » Daniel’s voice is a little breathy. He hopes Max won’t take it as more than post-race exhaustion. He tries not to say anything more, tries not to say Max deserves the fucking world, and would even if he hadn’t won the race today, but his tongue works faster than his mind. « You could get anything. » Daniel feels like a teenager again, prefrontal cortex not developed enough to make rational decisions. 

« Anything? » Max asks, his head turning to face Daniel. It feels like his blue eyes are glimmer-ish. Daniel nods. His hand finds the part of the sofa just above Max’s cap. Max chuckles. « You think I deserve a reward, Dan? » 

Daniel knows Max is being sarcastic. He knows it’s a joke. And it’s not like he isn’t aquatinted with this kind of mindless banter either, because it is usually the only thing that comes out of his mouth, but there’s this deep, deep thing in his chest that doesn’t want what Max said to be a joke. Something that wants to show him just how much Daniel thinks Max deserves. « Anything. » 

Then, Max swallows. He flushes even more than Daniel thought was possible. His chest aches. 

And out of nowhere, Max says, « I want to kiss you. » 

Or at least, that’s what Daniel thinks he hears. Because that can’t be right. That must be fucking unreal. « What? » 

« A kiss. » Max parrots. Says again. Echoes. Daniel has a hard time finding synonyms to keep himself from pushing his fingertips into Max’s shoulders and pull him in. « As a reward. »

Fuck. This is-, what the. God. Fuckin’-

Max kisses him. Doesn’t even ask if that’s okay with Daniel, even it’s fucking more than okay, like a kid. Max, eighteen, kissing Daniel. How the fuck did that happen? Daniel has no idea but he’s not going to complain.

Actually, he deepens the kiss. No tongue though, because he feels like that would be pushing it too far, even when it’s Max who asked to kiss him. Daniel deepens the kiss softly, just, presses his lips harder into Max’s until he thinks he can feel the freckle on his upper lips, presses a hand on the side of Max’s neck and another in his hair. Chucks the cap away and hears the dull thud of it clashing into the window. 

This feels more like a reward to Daniel for fucking waiting. For not doing anything fucking crazy. 

But, if anybody asks, it’s a reward for Max. For winning the Barcelona Grand Prix at the young age of eighteen years old and two hundred and twenty eight days old. A reward alongside the record. 

more of this on ao3!

don't hesitate to give me more kiss/non-kiss prompts!! love 'em all <3