#among other things that take place in the book but mostly That.

[arealtrashact]

Lisbeth and her bag of tricks...

[azrielbrainrot]

Mind Over Matter

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Description: Eris sees you at your lowest and you get a glimpse behind the mask.

Warnings: Angst, Domestic Violence, Injury

Word Count: 3550

Notes: In case it's confusing this is set before Fire on Fire. Hope you enjoy!

Fire on Fire Masterlist

The forest looked beautiful today. The red and orange leaves cast shadows over the whole clearing, and from the tree branch you were sitting at, you could see the birds flying and even some bunnies hopping around the bushes. It had been raining all week but it finally let up this morning, the sun was now shining high in the sky making it a perfect day to sit and read outside.

Even if the season never changes, you can tell apart the “beginning” and “end” of autumn. The leaves are just starting to fall, meaning this would be the beginning of the season. In a few months when the leaves are mostly on the ground, it will be the “end” and then the cycle will repeat itself. You always preferred this time when the sun is still shining and the forest is alive.

It might be summertime in the solar courts from your calculations, not that you've ever stepped foot out of this one, or even out of the city. As much as you love the forests tinged in orange, you can't help but wonder what it would be like if they gave way to different sights every few months.

Perhaps it would make autumn more enjoyable if it wasn't constantly upon you. You think you wouldn't hate the spring or summer, when the sun is warmer and there isn't as much rain, when different flowers bloom making the forests turn into different shades of green and brown and so many other colors.

You haven't been this deep into the woods in a long time, your mother and father had both finally left the house for long enough at the same time after what felt like forever. With the rain, your mother hadn't been invited to any tea parties and your father always seemed to be working in his office nowadays, never even leaving to attend any meetings. Seems the High Lord had given him some important job.

You'd feel bad for whoever had the misfortune of their company today but these are the few moments of peace you can steal for yourself, and you've been praying to The Mother that something came up so your father was called to the Forest House or even further. If it was something scandalous enough it would take your mother to her friend's houses to discuss it among themselves too.

You get so lost in your thoughts and the book you're reading, in the calmness and silence the forest brings you that it's only when you look up at the sky and see it starting to turn the same orange tone as the trees that you realize the sun is almost setting, you were late. You weren't sure how long your parents would be gone for, hopefully they weren't coming before dinner or they would already be looking for you.

Gathering your skirt, you hop down from the thick branch you've been sitting on, shoving your book into the old bag you once stole from one of the many closets in your house. It took you a few tries, and reading a couple of books, but you had managed to charm it to hold a lot more than its size would lead you to believe. You've been using it to keep books, dried flowers you've turned into bookmarks, random trinkets you've found over the years and even a couple of pants. Anything your parents wouldn't approve of you having really, things you actually called your own. Picking it up, you winnow to its hiding place - an old hollowed tree close to the edge of the woods behind your house - and quickly cover it so no one comes across it.

The maids knew you weren't inside, thinking you were in the gazebo watching the flowers, or feeling sorry for yourself, whatever they told themselves you did all day, so winnowing straight to your room wasn't an option. There was also the risk of any of them lingering around and seeing you. The garden had to do then, the servants had probably all left the grounds by then, retiring to their own homes.

You winnow deep into the garden so you're surrounded by bushes, close to the crimson roses that overlooked the side entrance to the estate. You weren't usually allowed on this side of the garden, it was too close to the servants' gate, meaning any of the “lowly” males could see you and you wouldn't know how to defend yourself from their advances. Sometimes you think your father is convinced you need instructions for breathing too.

Waving a hand over yourself to clean off any obvious dirt for the moment, you almost sprint closer to the gazebo, the place the maids would come looking for you when it was time to get ready for dinner.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you turn the corner to find your father walking the grounds. His face turns into stone as soon as he lays eyes on you, making you drop your skirt immediately, smoothing it with your hands out of habit, always trying to appear as polished as you can in front of him.

By his side stood your fiancé, looking as elegant as ever in a black three piece suit, topped off with a muted red tie to match the soles of his shoes. You've never seen his hair this long, it was combed back and tied in a small knot. Your gaze moves back to your father's disappointed face when his eyes meet yours, always so intense and calculating, suffocating even.

It had been years since you'd last been caught outside by your father and, to make matters worse, Eris was here too. At least he only saw you in the garden, even if further in than you're normally allowed. You don't even want to think what would happen if he'd seen you winnow from the woods.

“What are you doing outside at nightfall?” Your father was clearly displeased with you, not only for going against his wishes but also for doing it in front of such an important person.

“I simply got distracted looking at the flowers,” you try to sound as demure as possible, thinking maybe you could fix this by playing dumb since your father probably didn't want to make a scene in front of Eris, “They're blooming so beautifully.”

“You must have been really distracted,” he says as he turns his head menacingly, “since you know you're not allowed to wander around unattended.”

His tone almost makes you flinch, your face dropping. It had been foolish of you to think you could talk yourself out of the situation. Eris' presence wouldn't make your father less volatile, it only made things worse. He wanted to show the other male he was capable of handling his family, not wanting to appear weak in front of the heir.

You hadn't stopped to think that this could also make you less viable for marriage. His daughter being personally chosen by the High Lord as his eldest son's fiancé was your father's greatest accomplishment, and he knew better than you that Beron's mind was easily changed, he wouldn't want Eris to think you might not be the best option after all.

In this moment you ponder tarnishing your reputation as much as you could to get out of this marriage. If only it wouldn't cost you your life with it. Your father always hated the fact that you were born female. A male would bring the family name glory but a female could only hope to wed into a noble family. If you were to lose the High Lord's favor your father would likely lock you away from the world or even dispose of you altogether.

Your father lets out what you think he means as a disapproving sigh, but you can hear the excitement behind it, can see it on his face. He's grown to enjoy the moments when he can put you or your mother in your place, it makes him feel important. He approaches you, moving away from a slightly confused looking Eris.

You knew what was coming as soon as you saw your father pull his hand back, you've been here before many times after all. You close your eyes, feeling the heat approach your face, trying not to let your instincts take over and try to avoid it, that only makes it worse. The force of the slap makes your head turn to the side, your body almost following, but the worst part is the flames, you have to bite your lip not to let out any sound as you feel the burn eating at your skin. You faintly smell burning and try not to think about it, knowing it's the smell of your own flesh.

He holds your chin with a still too warm hand, even if already rid of the flames, and looks into your eyes closely, wanting to revel in your pain. “I've taught you better than this.” He adds another light slap to your face for good measure before letting you go completely. It almost hurts more than the first one, the skin was so tender even just moving your face hurt.

Taking a weak breath in, you try to calm your mind, ignore the pain and rage warring inside you. Clutching tightly onto your dress to keep your hands occupied, in case your mind slips and you burn his face in rage the same way he keeps doing to yours. You feel the flames wanting to rise up to your skin but firmly snuff them out, making sure they stay safely hidden deep inside you until it's the right time.

The pain has gotten easier to bear over the years, now you close your eyes not from fear but to calm yourself. You don't have the strength to go against him yet or a plan for a safe escape, you refuse to lose your life so easily after enduring this for so long. One day you will make him pay for everything he has put you through but first you need a plan and you need to be stronger.

This time it was different though, Eris was watching, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin deeper than your father's fiery palm ever could. There had been witnesses to his cruelty before, even outside your family and servants, you had seen pity, satisfaction and even trained blankness in their faces, had learned to ignore them and not ask for help under any circumstance - it took you too long to realize that the ones showing pity know your pain or are as powerless as you.

But, for some reason, knowing Eris, your future husband, the heir to the throne, is watching makes you want to cry for the first time since you were a child. You bite your lip and clench your fists as hard as you can, opening your eyes only enough to look to the ground, hoping your face isn't giving away too much or the burn was at least enough to hide it.

Suddenly interested in studying the cobbled stones you've walked on for decades, you notice your earring fell off, the ruby glinting in one of the little nooks in between stones, suffocated with no place to escape to just like you felt. You briefly wondered if it had simply gotten loose with the force or if it was ripped off your earlobe, but the pain on the side of your face was too intense to be able to pinpoint a specific area. A ripped earlobe was the least of your concerns anyway.

“What do you think you're doing?” All your thoughts evaporate when you hear his voice. He sounds uncharacteristically angry, you've never seen him lose the teasing lilt to his words or crafted nonchalant tone. You can't help but look up at him with wide eyes, not even remembering the shame you had felt before.

“Not to worry. Her face will be healed by tomorrow morning,” your father barely hesitates, assuming the anger wasn't directed at him hitting you, “I wouldn't give you damaged goods, my lord.”

Sometimes you wonder how your father had lived for so long, how he managed to become important enough that he not only worked for Beron but the High Lord would also want his heir to marry you, when he could be this dense. It was clear Eris wasn't worried about your face, his anger was almost palpable.

You know he wears a mask like no one else, you've seen it in action, but, if your father hadn't been so self-absorbed, if it was Beron standing in front of him, this would end very differently. Because the mask had fallen at the same time your stupid earring did. What was staring at you was Eris' true face. Your father was too thick to notice but you could gamble your life on it.

It showed his unrestrained fury and power rumbling just beneath his skin, you're not sure how your father didn't notice the way the temperature rose around them, the air suddenly resembling the summer you had just been longing for. His gaze burned hotter than lava and the planes of his face carved out the perfect personification of fury. His face was the perfect picture of the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. It was all fire, beautifully and all consuming.

He was making a bigger effort of not hurting your father than you were. When your eyes met you could almost see him forcefully pushing his feelings away, stuffing himself down with them, burying them deep inside him to keep the plot he's been writing for centuries intact. Still, his gaze lingered on your marred cheek too long, you think you even see his fingers spasm, as if wanting to reach out, if it was to console you or to snap your father's neck you couldn't be sure but the sentiment behind it was the same.

You almost gasp as the realization comes to you. The look on his face isn't all anger but what's underlining it isn't pity, it's the face of someone who understands. He's been in your same place. It shouldn't be a surprise to you, Beron's cruelty will far outlive his name, but it's hard to imagine Eris, inarguably the second most powerful fae in this court, in your place.

Your stomach twists at the implications. If even he can't fight Beron, what hope do you have of escaping your father? Especially now that he's aligned himself with the High Lord? It's in this moment that you know Eris' warnings were correct, there's no use running, you wouldn't make it but a couple steps.

“She needs a healer to fix her face,” you can almost see him choosing his words, playing into your father's narrative enough while trying to help you as much as he can. You're starting to think you have Eris figured out. Is this how he has survived this long? “See that it gets done quickly.”

He leaves without another word, turning away from you father and letting his eyes linger on your burnt flesh one more time before winnowing out of your estate. You don't look away from where he'd just been even when your father grabs your arm and pulls you along on his way inside the house, cursing you with every step. You wouldn't be able to leave your room and escape into the forest for a while.

Later that night, when you're returning to your room, after a healer treated your wounds as usual, and made sure Eris' goods wouldn't be permanently damaged as your father had so lovingly put it, you find a vaguely familiar, faint scent lingering in the air, it makes your heart stop.

Thankfully, the maids didn't accompany you to your room, they didn't like treating you cruelly but helping you could get them in trouble with your father so they'd rather just watch in silence, or, even better, turn their face whenever it was possible.

If they had followed you, they would have noticed the scent, would run and tell your father. You're not sure if they'd recognize it as his, he doesn't visit your house often after all, but the spicy scent was unmistakably male. It's better not to think of the amount of trouble you would be in if they smelled it.

You walk to the window first, opening it as wide as you can so the chilly night air fills the room instead, making sure there would be no residuals in the morning when they came to wake you. Looking up at the full moon in the cloudy sky, feeling the wind turn to ice against the side of your face still covered in a thick cooling salve and wrapped in bandages, you hesitate one more time before moving to the foreign items sitting at your vanity table, undoubtedly left behind by your dear fiancé.

Eris left you a tiny bottle with some strange bluish liquid inside accompanied by a small red velvet box tied off with a golden ribbon. You know he won't poison you, the bargain won't allow it, but you weren't sure what else he could do if he let his imagination run wild. You decide reading the note set on top of the box might give you an idea.

He has no right to treat you like this. I'm sorry I can't do more to help you for now but I promise there will come a day when he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

The note wasn't signed but you knew it was his. Even after your agreement, you didn't think he would try to make you feel better, even going as far as risking getting caught while dropping this off, since this fragile alliance of yours had been neither of your first choices.

You pick up the bottle and uncork it, immediately recognizing the calming scent of a sleeping draught. It would help with your nightmares. This is a generous amount too, it can last you a while. You set it back down and untie the ribbon, opening the box to find some chocolate and sugar cookies.

A sleeping draught and cookies. Never in your life had you received anything like this. You can't even admit it to yourself but this is by far the most thoughtful gift you've ever gotten from anyone.

He had to have an idea of how awful your father was to you, you told him as much when you made the bargain, but he might not have realized he went as far as physically hurting you. Eris knows the pain of an abusive father, of being haunted by their cruelty even in your dreams. So, he gave you the draught to help you even a little and the cookies to console you, something sweet to fend off the pain.

Just when you were starting to feel thankful for Eris, thinking you might have been too harsh on him before, you notice something else written on the other side of the note. Turning it around and reading it as well.

I wasn't aware you could winnow so well. Just how much are you hiding from your family, doll?

Your entire body tenses at the words, turning the paper into flames lest anyone reads it. He knows. You've managed to hide this ability from everyone for decades, but now Eris, of all people, knows. You're not sure how he noticed when your father didn't. He could have arrived before him, could have wandered around the grounds without anyone knowing. Is it possible that he knew where you went? No, he couldn't have come from the forest in time to talk to your father and see you.

You hold your hand up to rub over your chest, simultaneously trying to calm your racing heart and feeling the mark of the bargain woven into your soul, trying to reassure yourself. He's your ally. He won't tell anyone, the bargain won't allow it. But what could he do with this information? You had the upper hand when you made the bargain but it feels like he just stepped ahead.

After a few moments of breathing in the cold air still seeping into the room and settling your mind, you sit down on the chair by the vanity unceremoniously, letting your head drop into your hands for a moment. A heavy sigh escapes you as you open the cookie box again. What kind of person sends you gifts and includes a mildly threatening message with them. Must he always push your buttons like this?

You take a bite out of a chocolate cookie and let the delicious taste melt in your mouth, eyeing the small bottle. It seems you'll need to use it tonight, you definitely need a good dreamless sleep after the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through the whole day.

What you fail to notice is that, between the chocolate and sugar cookies you keep munching on and the annoyance now targeted towards Eris, your face barely even hurts anymore and you weren't left thinking of the deep rooted ache in your soul after your father hurt you yet another time.

[beybaldes]

one single thread of gold tied me to you

sejanus plinth x gn!reader

masterlist

summary: Sejanus Plinth sits on the steps of the academy with you by his side. Things may be bad, but there are worse places you could be

warnings: NO relation between reader and snow I might die if I see another fic where reader is his twin (not that they aren’t good fics, they are so good!!! I just don’t look like him at all 😭😭😭 free me), little angst but mostly fluff, ONE use of y/n, hehehehehe i posses evil powers

an: okay I know Ive not posted in like forever but I saw BOSBAS and fell in LOVE 🥲 technically spoilers and won’t be 100% book/movie accurate im going with straight vibes for this one :D enjoy!!

Sejanus Plinth was never meant to cross your path, let alone take violent root in your heart. In every other universe he never left district two and you never bumped into him on the playground at 8 years old, wondering where on earth he must have come from. There wasn’t such a thing as a ‘new kid’ in the capital, and yet, you had found one.

Or rather, he’d found you. You’d been chasing Arachne Crane around the playground in a game of tag, too focused on trying to catch her and not focused enough on the tree root that stuck out of the ground in front of you. There’d been no time to react, but sweet, gentle, wonderful Sejanus Plinth had caught you by the arm, his grip so firm you’d had his fingerprints bruised into your skin for weeks after. But he’d saved you from scraping your knee against the ground, and he held you up until you’d steadied yourself, and then he’d walked away without a word. Arachne had disappeared from your sight and you were suddenly infatuated with the mass of brown curls that were walking to the far side of the playground; you felt as though you had no choice but to chase after him instead.

Shivering at the thought that in another life you’d befriended the likes of Felix Ravenstill or Festus Creed instead, you reached out for Sejanus’s hand between the tables the mentors were made to sit at to watch the games. Surprisingly, he was receptive to your touch, tightly interlocking your fingers and hoping it would provide him with more comfort then you both knew it ever could.

As Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, the capitals weatherman, began to introduce the game to viewers watching from the comfort of their homes, Sejanus’s grip on your hand only got tighter, his hands beginning to tremble slightly as the screen at the front of the grand room began to show the tributes entering the area. As images of the tributes being pushed, dragged and shoved into their starting places crossed the screen, your thumb ran across the back of his hand, hoping you could make the shaking of his clammy palm against yours stop.

Slowly the cameras in the arena moved their focus from the tributes waiting for the games to start, and instead zoomed in on Marcus, hung by his bloodied hands on the fallen debris caused by the rebel attack.

“Oh my God.” Gasping the words out, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the sight, and you would’ve held onto Sejanus’s hand tighter if you were still holding it. Instead his hand was torn from yours as he stood among the other mentors, flinging his desk and device across the room with a rage you’d never seen in him before.

“You’re monsters!” He cried, hands scrunched into fists by his side, tears filling his eyes as he addressed the room before him. Peers, Sejanus didn’t dare call them friends, and teachers alike stood in silence, refusing to feed into his outrage and refusing to speak against the regime they had been raised in. Though some of them had never known anything different then a life with the hunger games, it didn’t take anything more then a heart in your chest to know how wrong it was. Even if Sejanus hadn’t known Marcus from his time in district 2, he was the same age as him, he had a family and friends back home hoping he would return to them, he was a living, breathing person who shouldn’t have had to fight for his life because his name was drawn from a hat. “All of you!”

Sejanus stormed out of the room, and you would’ve been hot on his heels if Coriolanus hadn’t grabbed you, holding you to your seat. “Just wait.” You didn’t understand at first, furious that Coriolanus would try and stop you from going after Sejanus to see if he was okay, but as he silently pointed at Mr Flickerman, you understood. Following Sejanus should wait ten seconds while Lucky counted down to the official beginning of the Hunger games and you could sneak away unnoticed. While you were never particularly fond of Coriolanus Snow, you could appreciate his brain and how it ticked.

When the ten long seconds were finally up, you sprung from your seat, a whispered thank you to Coriolanus as you snuck around the outside of the seated mentors, all of whom were enamoured with the screen. As you left the building in search of Sejanus, you briefly worried he’d be nowhere to be found, having run far away from the academy in hope he could escape everything. However, he’d been quite easy to find, hunched over himself on the steps of the academy, his arms wrapped around his knees and curled into himself as his shoulders jumped with strained breaths. A part of you prayed you’d never have to see him like this again.

“Sejanus?” His head snapped to face you, furiously wiping away the frustrated tears that had rolled down his cheeks and forcing something that tried to be a smile on his face. A frown pulled on your lips as your met his eyes, quickly crossing the steps until you were beside him. “Oh, Sejanus.”

“Did you see what they did to him?” His voice trembled as he spoke, hiccuping in breathes as he tried to tell you what he was thinking, tried to nullify the crippling ache in his chest. With the escape of a whimper from the back of his throat, your hands came to cup his face, caressing his cheeks and simultaneously wiping away any tears that crossed your path. “What they’re doing to all of them?”

“I know, I know.” You cooed, knowing there was nothing you could do to change things. All you could do right now was make your Sejanus feel better, though you worried even your best wouldn’t be enough. “It is wrong and cruel, so, so cruel, and one day people will see just how right you are.”

“They won’t.” He scoffed, his eyes turning to stare at where his shoes met the ground, avoiding your gaze. “They think that this is life, that this is how things are. And no one else sees an issue with that, at least not here in the Capital.”

One of your hands turned Sejanus to face you, not allowing him to look away as you spoke, while the other fervently soothed his curls away from his face, hoping a combination of the two could begin to make him feel better.

“Thousands of people will have seen your outrage at the games tonight, and if even one of them has been affected by it, then you will have made a change.” Sejanus’s features softened as you spoke, and while you knew his boiling rage was only reducing to a simmer, and that at the end of the day it would still be inside of him, you knew that he was allowing himself to get through this moment with your help. “Rome was not built in one night. Change will come, it just takes time.”

Silence didn’t have the chance to settle. “Why are you so nice to me?” That surprised you. It didn’t seem like a question that needed answering and it didn’t seem like something Sejanus would ever ask you. It felt too obvious. “No one in the capital has ever accepted me as one of them, and yet, my own district won’t recognise me as theirs either. Most of the people at the academy don’t even acknowledge me, and sometimes I feel like Coryo only tolerates me, but you? You are nice to me, like now. You didn’t have to come out here, you chose to. Why?”

Strangely, you’d never been so scared. You couldn’t help but think that you’d said or done something to make Sejanus think that your friendship towards him was fake or conditional, but it couldn’t be further from it. How did you put into words how much you loved him for him, without saying it just like that? Plain and simple?

“You are kind, Sejanus. You don’t see a lot of that around here. From the very first day I met you you have been nothing but kind - not only to me but everyone around you, even when they didn’t deserve it.” Your hand against his hair had moved back down to his cheek, the gentle caress of your thumb against the apple of his cheek turning more and more loving with every word you spoke. “You bring your Ma’s sweets to share, even when they’re the ones you really like, you recite your favourite books to me just because you want to talk and you know I’ll listen, you stop me from going home with scrapped knees and grazed hands everyday, and-“

It was like you’d suddenly become dangerously aware of how close the two of you had got, not only physically on the steps of the academy, but in your friendship over the years. Maybe more then a friendship if either of you were brave enough to say it. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think about anything but his lips against yours. Removing your hands from his face and placing them neatly in your lap, you tore your gaze from his face and looked to the sunsetting sky. “Sejanus plinth, it seems I have grown quite fond of you.”

Sejanus placed two fingers beneath your chin, turning your face to make you look at him, like you had done just minutes ago. “I have grown irreversibly fond of you, y/n y/l/n.”

As Sejanus leaned closer to you, and you tilted you head so your nose would slot perfectly against his, a crowd of mentors came out of the academy, causing the two of you to jump apart. Sejanus looked more disappointed than you think you’d be able to get him to admit, and he stood from the steps almost instantly. “I have to go.”

If you’d been any less dazed by the almost kiss shared between the two of you, you’d have chased after him once more, but you found yourself frozen on the steps of the academy. Sejanus was going to kiss you. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d find the two of you in such a position once again and maybe that time your lips would actually meet.

A part of you is certain you don’t even know the boy exists in any other universe. And yet, you find that you would plead before the Gods themselves to have the fortune of knowing him in every one.

An: thank you for reading!! Would anyone want a part 2 about Sejanus going in to the arena and reader and Coriolanus teaming up to get him out? I might write it anyway lol but please give me feed back and let me know what you thought!! Mwah <333

part 2: I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea out now!!

[kytrisz]

Are you happy? | Matt Smith

| pairing. matt smith x reader  

It's been a while since you and Matt, your boyfriend for quite some time now, spent time together. Due to his project, which has kept him gone for nearly 6 months, and your hectic schedule, the two of you have had little time for each other. So being together now is quite a new fresh air in the relationship.

Both of you book a stone house in Italy countryside to get away from everything else, as he said "everything felt too fast-paced", which you have the same sentiment with.

During your stay, you did a lot of activities together to compensate for the time being apart for so long. You went for a walk in the forest, had picnics in the backyard, gazed at the stars at night, and even rode your bikes down the street. Everything felt peaceful, everything is perfect, 

well almost...

You're currently laying on the couch after returning from dinner at a restaurant near the house that Matt reserved for you. It was a great spot, with delicious cuisine and beautiful scenery. Making your heart thump lightly when you realize how well Matt knows you.

You snuggled against his chest, listening to his breathing and the beat of his heart, while his fingers write things in your back you don't understand.

As you were about to slumber way to sleep, you felt him grumble as if he was saying something.

"...hmmm?" you asked, carefully placing your chin on his chest as you looked at him, more like catching him staring at you. Where his chocolate eyes are fixed on you and nothing else. Making you feel butterflies on the inside. He always never fails to make you feel special, as if you're a treasure he wants to keep.

"Did you say something?" you asked softly, staring at him with wonder.

It took a minute of silence and staring before Matt let out a chuckle, putting his hand on your head to caress it, "How long have we been together, love?"

"It's almost what, 3 years now I guess," you murmured, then realizing, "3 years... Matt!" you cried, surprised at how long you and Matt had been together. Startling him, who is below you.

"We've been together for 3 years! 3 years! I felt so old now," you chuckle.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" Matt jokes, after all, you guys have quite a big age gap.  And it's no secret among the general public, who are constantly making comments about it.

Letting out a small chuckle you lay again to snuggle to his neck and mumbled "That's true", laughing alongside him.

A moment of silence enters again, only your breathing and his can be heard in the room along with the two hearts beating in sync.

As your breathing turns to shallow, and your eyelids begin to drop, you felt yourself detach from reality and began to fall asleep.

But just as your eyes were about to close, you heard Matt utter something that threw you off guard. 

"Are you happy to be with me, love?"

"... "

When you didn't answer, Matt glances down to give you a soothing smile. "You don't have to answer, my love," he sighed, but you can hear the shakiness in his voice.

Staring at his chocolate orbs as if looking for an answer, you finally replied "Sometimes..."

You watched him arch his brow, looking a bit confused but mostly bothered by your answer. He may not say it, but you know he always beat himself up for not being present in your relationship.

"Because you annoy me a lot," you said seriously but failed as he poked your sides and laughed.

"But seriously, I do." fixing your gaze on his "I'm glad I spent my last three years with you."

"Why?"

"Hmm, what do you mean why?" A bit confused by his question.

"Why are you happy being with me?"

You saw in his eyes filled with contemplation, bother if he should take back what he said.

Sighing, you pull yourself up and straddle his waist. "Well, I'm happy being with you because even though we're miles apart, you never fail to make me feel alone. You always try your best to call me and even text me when you don't need to. You even do things that you don't even like because you know it makes me happy! But do you know what truly makes me happy?"

"Hmm?" 

"I'm happy because you love me," you grinned, leaning forward to touch his forehead and caress his cheeks, "and I'm happy because I love you"

And through your answer, Matt smiled at you with contentment, and all the worries you saw in his eyes finally washed away.

"I love you so much, Matt, more than you can imagine," you said solemnly.

Looking at you adoringly, he replied, "And I love you so," placing a hand on your head to lower you and plant his lips into yours.

At that moment, time appeared to stop and the world faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little universe with your hearts dancing to the rhythm of their symphony. 

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

Della Vacker post

I made this doodle of her while i was supposed to be working on artfight refs, but not to worry! i finished those just in time today :>

notice the Vacker registry pendant and prime sources chain. Notice how anxious she looks!

and now for the playlist which will make more sense after you've read the headcanons. You don't have to think it's perfect or in character, that's okay, it's just stuff i came up with

and now under the cut is my 15 page google doc thoughts of Della Vacker, from when she started dating Alden to Legacy-ish?? warning i think they get worse as they go, don't focus on the stuff after book 1 time, i'm not sure if i like it as much as i do the other as far as writing and wording goes and stuff

if you do take the time to read this, comment on it as much as you want!!! it feels good when people point out specific parts hehe

TW: mentions of eating disorders and ~uncomfortable age gaps~

Alden and Della had sort of an arranged marriage, with Alden on Della's match lists when she was sixteen, and her parents saw and were delighted to see a Vacker as her number one, but Della tried to argue, saying he’s a hundred years older, but by the time Alden got his next list she was nineteen and invited to his Winnowing Gala. Della was standing among all these girls who were mostly at least 30 years older than her, and she was terrified. She didn’t feel good enough to be there. She felt out of place. But Alden’s parents seemed to really like her, though she couldn’t tell if that was because they actually did or if it was just because she and Alden were each other’s top matches. She felt super weird about it, and he felt weird about it too, but despite the age gap, they were kind of pressured into getting together. 

And at first it was sooooooo awkward. They didn’t feel comfortable around each other, and Della still felt like a kid next to him. Not to mention the sheer perfection of him, and the other Vackers. This is where some other headcanons start coming in, with Della not feeling perfect enough, and she began to develop an eating disorder. 

This whole thing is so stressful for her, but her parents are happy, and Alden seems happy, who is she to ruin it? She was once an enjoyer of gossip, but now she's part of it, there were speculations about her from the very first date with alden, and she's not used to it! She's not used to being in the spotlight! 

Della: (surprised) I'm... I'm in the news? 

Alden: Oh... Yes, that happens. 

Della: ... But I only just started dating you- is- is that even public yet? 

Alden: No, but we did go out yesterday... 

Della: ... but I'm not a Vacker... I can't... (trails off) 

Alden: ...

Della goes for a walk in Atlantis and feels everyone watching her, and she can't take it, she feels like she's crumbling under the pressure (even though not that many people were actually looking or saying or thinking anything bad, but she saw a few people glance her way, someone pointed at her and whispered) and she breaks down, tears start to well up, and she tries to get somewhere to be alone, but it's Atlantis, she can't just leap away, she has to go back the way she came, and she's crying and she can't breathe and people are really staring now and really talking about her and someone tries to come help but she doesn't think that's what they're there to do, she runs away, she's running through crowded streets until she finally makes it out, and once her bubble thing lets her go she sits on the ground and sobs.

And of course people saw this whole thing, and they were talking about her all over again, but this time it wasn't just speculation about her relationship with Alden, this time it was people saying she wasn't fit to be a Vacker, that she was unstable and unpredictable and mentally ill for... crying? Well then, she can't let anyone see her cry ever again.

And at some points she wishes Alden would leave her or break up with her or something but after the stories and stuff about her were published he just hailed her and asked if she was okay. And this was before she'd read them. He seemed to care about her, and Della just thinks she's bringing shame on him, but he assures her that she isn't, and it's okay, and that it will blow over and that there's no reason to worry.

She becomes very familiar with that phrase, and learns to take it to heart. She's okay. He's okay. Everything is okay. even when she feels like dying, even when she realizes she hasn't eaten in three days and almost passes out in public and she feels terrified whenever she goes out with him and everything feels like too much and goddamnit why won't he leave her what does he still see in her why couldn't she have just enjoyed her after-foxfire years normally why why why???

But then as Alden cares for her and he doesn't leave her and he smiles for real, his smile is so unlike all the pictures she's seen, it's so soft and small and hesitant and his eyes look so gentle and happy and oh prime sources, after three years she's really falling for him and oh no this is awful, she feels so conflicted. She wanted him to leave her but now she doesn't want to leave him. 

After four years they finally share their first kiss, and it's... real. 

It's by no means a long kiss, but it feels like forever, time slows as thoughts race through Della’s mind and she thinks oh no. And then they pull apart, and she's tearing up, and mentally beating herself up for it, which only makes her need to cry more, and she can't breathe but Alden doesn't seem to get it, he's confused, he looks hurt, he asks whats wrong, so she chokes it down and tells him she's okay, just... really happy. I get emotional, she says with a forced laugh. 

And she accepts her fate. 

She’s trapped. 

Unless Alden ever has a sudden change of heart, she can't go anywhere.

Della was raised religious, but it wasn't nearly as strict as the Vackers. That's another thing she has to get used to - she has to carefully learn every ritual, all the history she might need to know, she doesn't want them to think she's not good enough. She has to fit into this family, and if she's a square in a circle hole, then she'll just have to cut off her own corners to fit. 

She didn't really expect it to go this long - she had three boyfriends when she was in Foxfire, but they all went by super fast, obviously. And they were never serious. But Alden was serious. Her parents wanted her to be serious. the Vackers were serious. 

Alden and Della obviously took things very very slowly, mostly due to the age gap and how uncomfortable they used to be around each other. They'd kissed twice after five years of dating, and it still feels so... new. They're careful in public, Della isn't herself anymore. She used to be so much happier. Now she's an empty shell, and sometimes life doesn't feel worth living.... but she's okay, she's okay, she's okay. There’s no reason to worry. Everything is perfect! She learns how to force a smile when people begin speculating about her mental health again... and she's not eating. She doesn't feel perfect enough. She hates her body, her face, her hair, she hates how ugly she feels standing next to Alden, her boyfriend, though that word feels wrong on her tongue. Even after a decade, she still messes up, says the wrong things and gets weird looks and she feels like the world could swallow her up, she could get murdered and it would be her fault.

Alden of course notices this, because, duh, he's not blind, but he doesn't know what to do. He waits for a few months, trying to let it pass because he's not good with words and... maybe if he pretends she's okay, she'll be okay. he just has to believe it and treat her as he has been - he does care, he just doesn't know what to do. He's trying to believe, but it's getting so hard to pretend because oh god she just collapsed in the middle of the room and she's not waking up and he's not very strong but he can pick her up easily and take her to the couch and he sits by her as he waits for a physician and he's trying so hard not to cry, but maybe she's worth crying over, he's so scared for her. Pretending everything was okay wasn't what she needed at all. He should have done something.

Della obviously ends up fine, but she doesn't talk to Alden about it. He apologizes and asks if she's okay, and she assures him he is, she says sorry, she promises to do better.

And she’s okay. 

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to eat. 

To prove she’s okay. 

She even hides the scale from herself for a few months. She's okay.

Well, now that she knows her limits she can be even better than before. 

Time flies by, and Alden and Della are closer than ever. They're not as close as the average couple that has been dating for a year, even though they've been together for ten, twenty, thirty. They love and care about each other, but there's.... something. Della gets better! She makes friends with some of Alden's friends, Grady and Edaline. They're also much older than her, but she's older now, too, so age shouldn't matter like it did when she was nineteen. Still, she feels the need to be polite in the same way she is to Alden's family. Despite that, it's... nice to be around them. To have conversations with Edaline while Alden is out, to have friends! She hasn't had those since the world started to judge her! Nobody wanted to be caught up in that kind of drama. She meets Edaline's sister, and they get along even better! Until she runs into her in the street and they talk for a while, and then the next day there's a picture of them in the news! Juline is a bad match, how could Della forget how could she mess up so badly how could she be so selfish to want anything for herself, how could she have slipped up like that!!!

She apologizes to Alden as soon as she sees him, then stops talking to Juline. Edaline has seen the article, and while this kind of thing doesn't matter to her, she understands why it would matter to Della. She's observant. She can tell that Della isn't okay. She and Juline talk, and they agree to let her go without asking questions. She clearly doesn't need more stress. Della is anxious to talk to Grady and Edaline for a bit after that, but when she does, they don't even bring up her suddenly cutting Juline off. Della wonders if she should bring it up, but she doesn't want to start trouble. So she pretends everything is fine and resists the urge to ask Eda how her sister is doing. 

This would be the time where Della would start visiting the Forbidden Cities and learning how to defend herself - going to the human world is freeing, but it comes with its risks. She's cautious not to get caught, and she's careful not to get hurt while she's there. In the Forbidden Cities, nobody knows her. She learns both how to hold her Vanishing for a long time, but also how to resist the light passing through her with each step she takes. Humans definitely don't blink in and out of sight as they walk. She learns a human language (in my headcanon it's Spanish, which she later teaches to her kids, while Alden teaches them English). She’s interested in human culture.

Luzia gifts Everglen to Alden, and he has it rebuilt, because the pressure to make things permanent with Della is starting to grow - he's been in relationships before, and they've all gone by so fast compared to this one. He feels differently about Della, he's actually gotten to know her, he thinks he's seen her at her worst. Della hears the whispers about marriage and gets terrified. She could really be Radelle Vacker. It's not the name she tried on at thirteen, fantasizing about marrying into the family, just for fun. It's an actual possibility.

Della had been living in an apartment since her twenties, she never felt like she could handle getting attached to a house the way most elves do. Besides, she liked the limited space - there was less to do with it, less options, but so many ways to decorate and make it hers. Unlike everything else in her life. Just because she appreciates beauty and fancy things, well, it doesn't have to be big to be beautiful. That was her place of peace. But then... Alden suggested she move into Everglen with him, after it gets rebuilt. And how could she say no? She can't. She hasn't said no to Alden once in all these decades. Not like he was too sure of what to do, either. Their relationship was the best pace it could have been for the two of them. And so Della moves into Everglen, and... gives up her apartment. And Everglen is big. It makes her feel small and anxious. But she'll get used to it. One time she had to cross the house to get a cup of water in the middle of the night - it was so eerie. She kept a cup by her bed from then on.

Another thing she gave up was her trips to the Forbidden Cities. She still wanted to go, and definitely could have, but she just stopped being able to find the time to visit as frequently, and eventually stopped going altogether. 

Now that they were living together, of course, people found out and started saying things and making more assumptions about Alden and Della's relationship, things that Della did not even feel nearly ready for - and they're not even married! They don't even share a room, let alone a bed! She feels kind of gross when she thinks about it for too long. but she's okay. She's getting good at this.

Until, to "celebrate" or whatever, Alden's parents suggest a family gathering at Everglen. Of course, Della is there. She already felt uncomfortable around Alden's parents, so she didn't expect it to go that well, but she wasn't expecting the sheer number of fancy intimidating and perfect Vackers that were there - she felt like scum next to them. And with the way some of them looked at her, she might as well have been. She made herself eat so they wouldn't go making assumptions about her health or mental well being, but after dinner, she excused herself and threw it all up in the bathroom. It wasn't even on purpose, she just felt that nauseous. She couldn't stay away for too long, though, because this was Alden's house, and being Alden's girlfriend, she'd surely be missed. So she gathers herself and returns for dessert, which she isn't able to stomach much of. She didn't notice until that night, but Alden seems so... stiff. And unnatural. Around the rest of his family. He's smiling, but that's not his smile. Della knows his smile! And she starts to wonder if Alden ever feels like she does. Despite how much he truly seems to belong here. Unlike she does.... she's not good enough.

And then Alden stands up and says he'd like to announce something, and he talks for a bit, then he mentions Della and she's forced to focus and listen and she doesn't even remember what he said, just that he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at his parents, while talking about her, and then he reached into his cape and turned around and kneeled down and

“Della, will you marry me?” 

And she freezes up and everything stops and her heart pounds in her ears and she feels like she might throw up again and then she chokes up and looks Alden in the eyes and the tears come before she can stop them, but she doesn't stop them because.... people cry at proposals all the time. It's normal. It's... an emotional moment. That's why she's crying. She's just. so. happy.

So she covers her mouth with her hands and says what she knows she has to say.

“Yes.” 

Except it's muffled and squeaky and choked so she nods to get her point across, she slowly stands up and steps towards Alden, and something in his eyes changes as he wraps his arms around her. Understanding, maybe? He's just as trapped as she is, isn’t he?

She cries into his chest, but they're definitely not happy tears. She can force a smile and pretend they are, but that doesn't make it any better. For a moment all she hears is herself sobbing and Alden's heartbeat, pounding much too hard for someone who could be truly at peace. Then the applause starts, and she cries harder, making herself feel even sicker. But this is the first time she's let tears fall in - no, has it really been a year? Has it been more? Less? She doesn't know. But it's been a while. And it's all coming out at once and the rush of hands clapping is taking over but she has to breathe. breathe. breathe. Alden rubs her back, and she focuses on that, she focuses on his smell.

And she breathes. 

In, out. 

She’s okay. 

She’s crying, but she’s happy, right? 

How could she be anything but happy? 

She’s… engaged. 

To Alden Vacker. 

So many people would give anything for this. People would crash weddings for a chance at marrying Alden Vacker. The world envies her. She even loves Alden! And she knows she does!

So why isn’t she happy??? 

Where’s the feeling she’s been missing for so long? 

She stands by the door as the Vackers leave, squeezing Alden's hand as she nods and smiles at each of the Vackers leaving. She's never even seen most of them. She recognizes Alden's parents, and of course Luzia Vacker, Fallon Vacker, Orem Vacker, and a few others she's read about in elvin history. She really is a part of them now.

But she doesn’t feel good enough. 

Her smile falls as soon as the last ones leave, and Alden isn't looking at her, and they need to talk about what to do, they need to talk about what happened, they need to celebrate, they need to...

Alden speaks up first. 

And he says,

“I’m sorry.” 

And he walks away. 

Della stares after him, feeling the light pass through her. She doesn't know how to feel. Alden just apologized... for proposing to her? She should feel hurt, but... she gets it. She's sorry, too.

She goes back over to the table to clean up all the plates left there, with the intent of getting her mind off of things, but... it's a giant table. It's overwhelming. She sits down and takes a half empty glass of wine that isn't even hers. She takes a deep breath and releases it in a long, slow, sigh.

She doesn't even finish the glass, but she feels sick like she's had five or ten. Or, she feels like what she thinks it'd be like? She's never actually gotten drunk, but she knows it can make you throw up. In any case, she knows she will not be getting drunk tonight. She needs to keep it together. She's okay.

The next morning, they act like they normally do, but they both know of the unspoken tension, the hurt and guilt and shame because of that disaster of a proposal that neither of them wanted to do yet. Especially not like that, in front of the Vackers. Della used to fantasize about her dream proposal - it would have been somewhere beautiful, maybe under the stars, remote and quiet. Certainly not in a well-lit room with every Vacker looking at her. She imagined tears, but she also imagined being happy. She imagined looking into her lover's eyes and smiling softly, and kissing them. Not whatever happened last night. 

But who is she to complain...

For a week, they try to pretend everything is like it was, like it has been... But then they both realize that it will never go back. They can’t go back. So they start planning the wedding. And we all know how that went. 

If you look closely in pictures taken when Alina was trying to get Alden to run away with her, you might see a glimmer of hope and desperation in Della's eyes, mixed with the shock and anxiety that was there already. For a moment Alden looked like he was about to leave and go with her - but then he snapped out of it. He was being beguiled. 

Of course, it could have just been the angle of the picture that painted that look on Della's face.

The Vackers are all freaking out after the wedding, but most pin the blame on Alina alone, and most are pleased with the end result of it - and they almost seem genuine when they smile at Della now. For once she's done something right? Do they think she handled it well? 

And honestly? Della is much happier in the week following the wedding - it's their "honeymoon period," in which they mostly just stay in Everglen where it's quiet and the world can't get to them. They invite Grady and Edaline over for tea, but that's the extent of their social interaction. For a short while. Then they're expected to go back to normal. They have to go out to work, they have to talk to people, and of course endure the speculation on what other things they could have been doing during that time. 

Now Alden and Della aren't great at communication but at this point with all the rumors and expectations to continue the Vacker family line, they do have to talk about it at some point. They just.... might procrastinate a bit.

Until finally, Della is the one to bring it up. 

She asks if he wants kids and he blinks, then says he doesn't know. He asks if she does, because if she does, he'll go along with it, of course. But she says she doesn't know either. They sit there at the table for a few minutes, neither looking at the other. They're not used to talking or making decisions together. Most of their decisions had been made for them until now.

So they wait a bit longer, until the pressure from their families and society becomes too much and they agree that they do want kids, even though they're still not sure. Except they've never even slept in the same bed... so they start there. And it's nice, actually. They no longer feel awkward just being around each other, and sometimes they cuddle, without saying anything. They'll lay down, and by morning Della is curled up in his arms and they're sharing a blanket. It's nice.

But they know they have to take it a step further eventually... and there's a big difference between cuddling fully clothed and... having a child. The last time Della had ever done anything remotely sexual was when she was a teenager, and Alden has even less experience. They don't even feel comfortable changing with the other there. They don't know how they're going to do this.

Okay, so they think, "well, Grady and Edaline have a kid, maybe we should talk to them.” And so they do! Which is like, really big for them, opening up and communicating and talking about their relationship with someone else - it's big. And scary. But... they're in the same boat. They're in this together. And soon, almost a year after they said they would... They have a child.

Both of them are really scared, because they didn't exactly have the best relationship with their own parents or the best childhood, and when Della finds out she's pregnant, she tells Alden immediately, and... he cries. He tries to pretend he's just happy, but Della has pulled that trick too many times for it to work on her. She sits by him, takes his hand, closes her eyes, and quietly admits that she's terrified. She tells him her fears about not being a good parent, and Alden is nodding along. He feels the same. He takes her hand, kisses her forehead, and promises that they'll do this together. But they have to talk about things, just like they're talking now. Della touches his cheek, wiping off a tear, and says, "I like it when we talk like this. It feels good." she leans on him, and he holds her.

And Della learns to take better care of herself, because it's not just her. She's actually eating every day, especially since Elwin noticed that she was a bit underweight when he first checked her. She grows more and more anxious the more time passes, and is constantly hailing Edaline to ask if x thing is normal for pregnancy. Edaline helps calm her by telling her baby stories about Jolie. She even gives her some of Jolie's old baby things, and Della is very grateful. Alden is just as stressed, and spends lots of time taking care of Della and figuring out what to prepare. When it was too early in the pregnancy to really start setting up a room yet, he tried to baby proof the entirety of Everglen, which is obviously impossible with all the wide staircases and tile floors and fancy crystal and sharp corners. But he tried. He settled for baby proofing the part of the house where Alvar's room was going to be, right by Alden and Della's room, then adding a baby gate in the hallway. This was not his idea, he was still trying to do the whole house when Edaline had to stop him.

Grady and Edaline bring Jolie over a lot and she tells them all about all the stuff that used to be hers, and when they knew Alvar's gender they let her help choose names. Being a brutally honest child (I think like 9 or 10, correct me if I'm wrong) she made a face at one of the names Alden suggested.

Of course, preparing for Alvar wasn't the only thing stressing Della out. They tried to keep it on the down low for a while, but of course the world found out about Della being pregnant. And there were so many predictions and speculation and people were even bringing up her "mental health struggles" (not that she doesn't have those, but they literally just saw her crying in public once) and wondering how she could be a good parent and how her child would turn out as an adult. Edaline saw how this was getting to her and told her to stop reading them so she wasn't as stressed, and finally convinced her by saying it'd be better for the baby if she could like. chill out a bit. 

And then Alvar is born, and everyone cries, and yes, Della is stressed and anxious and scared but they are happy tears! She can't help but smile as she looks at Alvar, so small and fragile and she wants to shield him from the harsh reality of the world. Alden seems almost scared to hold him, like he's afraid he'll break him if he messes up or does something wrong. He sits down by Della so she can help him make sure he does it right. Grady, Edaline, and Elwin are there to help if needed. Jolie is at Brant's house (I believe they’ve met by now). Della closes her eyes and breathes, and the moment is so... perfect. really, truly, perfect.

For a long time, things are great! they really couldn't be better... Alden and Della aren't perfect at parenting, but they're doing their best. They're managing a balance between their work and family fairly well. Like I said, they're not perfect. They do mess up. A lot. And they're super hard on themselves. But... they're trying. Alvar is growing up fairly happy, and when Jolie is old enough, she (and sometimes Brant) babysit him sometimes. Alden and Della are closer than ever with Grady and Eda, and Jolie, too. For the Vackers, the Ruewens are the first example of a healthy family that they've gotten to see.

Now, they say all good things must come to an end. 

Della is the happiest she’s been. Ever. 

And then Jolie dies. 

Everything fell apart then. the Ruewens were like family to Della and Alden, and Jolie was almost like a daughter or niece to them. And for Alvar? She had been a part of his life before he was even born. His special stuffie belonged to her, and he couldn't even fully grasp the concept of death yet. He kept asking where Jolie was, and Della couldn't explain it to him. Alden couldn't either, he'd never been good with words. Della had to keep telling him that she went away and she's not coming back, trying to explain death while still reeling from the shock of the news herself. At one point she got up and locked herself in the bathroom for a while, away from Alvar's questions and away from everything. Alden spent most of his days in his office, working. Della, on the other hand, had to take a break from work for a while. She knew the moment she left Everglen, she would be judged for grieving, grieving wrong, not grieving enough - whatever she did, it would be wrong. And it wasn't even her child who died. She wanted to comfort or help Edaline and Grady somehow, but she couldn't. She couldn't even get out of bed for a while. Alden didn’t really know this, because he'd been sleeping in his office.

All of this really affects Alvar's little child brain, but we can talk about his trauma another time. The planting happens, and the Vackers are right at the front. Alvar has finally gone quiet, and he seems to realize that she's really not coming back. He tries to go over to Brant after the proceedings, but he's kinda... unstable. Alden tells him it's time to go, so Alvar gives Brant a hug and goes back to his parents.

Even though they got that bit of closure, they're still broken. There's a wound that cannot be healed. A hole that cannot be filled. Della's mental health plummets, and for a bit, there is nobody taking care of Alvar. He plays alone in his room until he gets bored and goes to his parents room, where Della is usually curled up in bed, thinking too much and not thinking at the same time. Alden comes in one night and lays down next to her, reaching out his hand like they did when they were still figuring out how to be comfortable together. Della places her hand on top of his, and they sit there for a long time. Alvar comes in and crawls between them, placing his tiny hand on top of Della's. The three of them fall asleep there. 

Slowly, they recover. In a year they're seemingly okay again. But nothing is the same. Della and Alden are more distant from both each other and Alvar. And the wound never healed, only scarred over.

And whether that feeling of something missing affected their decision to have another child is up to speculation, but they did have another child. Part of it was also because Della felt like she had failed Alvar, that she had let him down when Jolie died, and she didn't know how to talk to him or fix things. He wasn't doing bad in Foxfire, he was actually doing better than Della had. But Alden didn't seem to think it was good enough. Or rather, his parents didn't. Alden didn't really seem all that bothered by anything Alvar was doing. He had a habit of getting too wrapped up in work, especially after Jolie died. But Alden's parents sometimes hailed him or came over, mostly to tell him how disappointed they were in how he was raising Alvar. And Della heard them blaming her, a few times. But she didn't know how to fix it. And he was still a level one - surely he had time to turn out okay?

They end up having Fitzroy Alden Fallon Avery Vacker, whose initials they did not think through (Jolie would have thought about it). But this time they feel like they're having this child alone. sure, it's their second one, but there's still no one to just... be with them. Help them. Della is still anxious, but she has no one to stop her from looking at the news, no baby stories to look back on except Alvar's, though even his have turned sad. Jolie was there for so many of them... 

Over time, they become a lot stricter with Alvar. And as Fitz (and Biana) grow older, both Alden and Della begin trying to force them into perfection. Alvar is so different and so unwilling to fit into what their family is supposed to be that Alden and Della have all but given up on him. And for Alvar, well it obviously doesn't feel great to be given up on, which really only makes him further apart from the others. He feels out of place everywhere. At home he isn't perfect enough, he has too much of an attitude, he's placed last in priority. At school, he's a Vacker. He can't escape it. It's who he is.

Prentice's mind break (if I'm mathing correctly) happened while Della was pregnant with Biana. And Alden was never really the same after it. He'd never been very talkative, but he became more distant than ever. He barely left his office, kept forgetting to eat or drink water or sleep. He got better over time, but he still smiles much less than he used to.

When Biana is born, the public doesn't really know how to feel about her. Two children is fine, but three? Isn't that pushing it a bit? So Biana grows up with people asking everything of her, but half expecting nothing. She was so scared she wasn't even going to manifest (which is a bit unrealistic but with the way things were exaggerated, she thought being talentless was very likely. Della was also very afraid of this possibility).

The happiest years for anyone in this family were from when Alvar was born to when Jolie died. Things don't seem like they'll ever be better.

Alden is forcing Fitz and Biana to be perfect to protect the family legacy. Della is forcing them to be perfect to protect them. She knows how cruel the world can be. But her “protection” doesn't come across in the best way. At home, she subtly brings attention to all their little flaws, and when they go out, she makes sure they hide them all. When they cry, she gently tells them not to, that it's okay, that they're okay, everything is okay.

After Alden recovered from the mind break, he suddenly started talking to Alvar (who was struggling a lot with Neverseen stuff and depression and an eating disorder at the time) more. And he wouldn't let Della know what they were talking about. Della stopped trusting Alden. Not that she ever truly had, but this was different.

And Alden and Della grew further apart. Nobody would know, of course, since when they're out in public or when others are around, they act as in love as ever. But sometimes they go all day without talking to each other. Della spends time with Fitz and Biana, takes them places, teaches them how to survive in this family. She teaches them how to be the best version of themselves. They are 3 and 5. Alvar is at school most of the day, and out doing... whatever until nearly sunset. Della could ask, but Alden seems like he has it covered, so it doesn't really matter. She knows she's starting to be apathetic again, and she doesn't want to be, especially when it comes to her kids, but it's so hard not to.

But then Alvar enters the elite levels, and Alden starts spending more time with Fitz. He keeps him in his office all day, but then Della goes in once and Alden is alone. Where is Fitz? She asks him, and he informs her that he's at a friend's house. Where did Fitz get friends? She should be happy for him, but something about all of this feels so wrong. But she doesn't press further. If she shows that she doesn't trust Alden, will people use that against her too? So she doesn't even question it, and instead works on becoming closer with Biana, so Alden can't take her away, too. Maybe she's being overdramatic about it, but that wrong feeling hasn't gone away. Maybe it's just anxiety. Maybe she's fine. No, she is fine. It's not a maybe. She's okay. Their family is okay.

This also creates a divide between Fitz and Biana, who used to be close as little kids. But now Fitz is disappearing every day, and Della is keeping Biana away from him and Alden, and Alvar never comes home, except briefly during breaks and weekends, but then he goes to stay stars know where. Fitz and Biana have vastly different personalities. Biana has learned to be confident and defensive, while Fitz... well, he doesn't know how to act around people. He's learned to depend only on Alden, because nobody else trusts him and he can't trust anyone else. The golden years of this corner of the family are far behind them, and now all they have is perfectionism, distrust, and a facade.

Della thinks that by bringing attention to all Fitz and Biana’s little flaws and imperfections, by pointing them out in subtle ways, she thinks that will give them a chance to "fix" them before the world notices and attacks them for it. She tells herself she wishes someone had done this to her before she had to learn for herself to be perfect. 

Fitz started going to foxfire, and Della can tell he's not really okay. Did they ever get him enrolled in tutor sessions? Maybe that's where he's been going off to? She hasn't been paying enough attention. They used to have dinner together as a family every night, but then Alden got busy, Fitz started bringing his food up to his room when he started school and became swamped with way more homework than what can be good and normal for an eleven year old. So Della usually ended up sitting at the table with Biana after making some food. She figures this is a good meal to skip. Two meals a day is more than enough.

Suddenly, everything changes. Suddenly, Sophie is there, and Fitz seems so much less tired. He seems less stressed. He joins Biana and Della for dinner, and sometimes even Alden sits and eats with them as well. Things are far from perfect, but Alden is smiling genuinely again. Only sometimes, but it's there. Della decides she likes this change. But she also realizes something...

Fitz was always either away or sick, Sophie was in the forbidden cities, where there are lots of human illnesses (she knows from experience). Alden never told her why he had Fitz get up so early to talk to him alone, Alden never talks to her anymore, goddamnit- what was Fitz doing? Alden couldn't have found Sophie. He couldn't have, she knows for a fact he never leaves! He was meeting with the council right before Sophie arrived with Fitz, in her strange human clothes, and Fitz was wearing human clothes and prime sources, she's thinking about this too much and she can't breathe - this has been going on for so long?? How could she not have seen?

No, she needs to stay calm. She... needs to talk to Alden about this. He's been busy today, but she takes two plates of food to his office in the evening, gently opens the door, and sits by him. Alden clearly thinks this is unusual, but she can't tell if it's in a positive or negative way. But that's not important. They need to talk. After a few bites of food, she prepares the question. Were you sending Fitz to the Forbidden Cities? she prepares it in her mind, has it on the tip of her tongue, she opens her mouth to speak, but what comes out instead is...

“How was your day?” 

Alden blinks, like that's not what he was expecting. It's not what Della was expecting either. But she's not ready to confront his lies, she's not ready to face the reality of the danger Fitz was in for quite possibly eight years? And that's how Alden and Della end up sitting in Alden's office for hours, having the longest, most normal conversation they've had in years. They sit together and watch the sun set. Della leans on him. She missed having someone to hold her. Alden missed the feeling of being loved.

Alden and Della sort of work on mending their relationship after this, but they don't really talk about Fitz and what Alden had him do. Della never feels ready to bring it up, and eventually she puts the whole thing out of her mind. After all, Fitz is fine, it's like it never happened. But it did happen, and she doesn't notice the ways this affected Fitz because she's too busy pretending everything is fine and forcing him to do the same! Sometimes it's less pretending and more just. lying to herself. Trying to trick herself into believing. One of the ways she's done this for herself these past decades is telling herself that other people have it worse. If someone is suffering more than her, her pain doesn't matter. going to the Forbidden Cities kind of ingrained this in her brain more, as she saw people who were literally starving to death on the street, and here she was, living in this fancy mansion with a good husband - after all, he's not abusive or anything, and she really loves him. Things are just… weird, sometimes. And she sort of ends up passing this mentality down to Biana and Fitz? There's a time in Flashback where Fitz says it's only fair that all this is happening - because everyone else in the friend group had a really hard time at least at one point in their life, and usually over a long time - he's fine! He's had it good. How could he complain?

Alden went to Exile with Sophie in book 2, but nobody knew about it. Well, nobody was supposed to know, until Sophie transmitted to Fitz and got him all freaked out. All Della really knows is that he got hurt on a mission from the Council, and he really didn’t seem to want to talk about it. When she tried to ask, he used the “no reason to worry” phrase three different times in that conversation. He was clearly stressed and upset about something, but he convinced her to drop it. He ended up falling asleep in his office that night, but that happens sometimes. Everything was looking bright for everyone else, until the Opening Ceremonies. You all know what happened there, so i’m not gonna go into it, but when Alden’s mind broke, Della was devastated. As far as everyone knew, he wasn’t coming back. He was dead, they had a planting for him. She didn’t eat for days. Alvar was basically taking care of the whole family, because Alden was gone and Della spent most of her time by Alden’s side, trying to bring him back. Alvar tried to convince her to leave every day, until one day he snapped and yelled at her, he’s gone and he’s not coming back, stop hoping. It was the same kind of thing she had told him when they lost Jolie. 

But unlike Jolie, Alden did come back, and the Vackers tried to erase the phase of their life where he was gone. They wanted to pretend that Keefe was right, that everything had gone back to perfection in Vacker Land. But this kind of thing leaves a lasting effect. They were afraid to even talk about what had happened with Alden, for fear that he’d break from the guilt of being gone and affecting them like that. Della still visits his Wanderling sometimes, not to mourn, but... for some other reason. There’s something surreal about looking at the tree, knowing full well Alden is okay at home. 

Another quick thing I want to touch on is in book 3 when Alden and Fitz went to help with Fintan’s mind healing. Della and Biana spent the afternoon and evening together, trying to do fun things to take their mind off of things. But then they heard about the fire and saw pictures before Alden and Fitz had even come home, and they understandably freaked out. The fire had consumed half of Eternalia, how could they have gotten out? How could they be okay? But they were, and both Vackers were strangled with hugs as soon as they got back. 

Della went with Fitz and Biana to join the Black Swan, partially because she wanted to, partially because she felt she should keep an eye on them and keep them at least semi in line, and partially because she wanted to escape the world and their pressing stares. And Everglen, a little bit. Juline was there, of course, but Della didn’t really know it was her. 

When Squall wasn't busy and didn't need to rush home, Della actually ended up talking to her a bit. Della was a little more honest (key word a little) with her because she obviously wasn't like the general public - she's a Black Swan member. At one point Squall actually thinks Della is about to call her out on being Juline when Della tells her she reminds her of someone she used to know, and hey, she's a Froster, too! But Della seems genuinely unaware as she sort of explains what happened with this old friend of hers - she's a bad match, and Della was seen talking with her... and she felt like she had no choice but to cut her off. Squall listens, but only half processes it because she's waiting for the "you're Juline aren't you?" But it never comes. 

After Alvar’s betrayal, Della knew a lot of people blamed her for how he ended up. After all, how could Alden Vacker have gone wrong? It was clearly Della’s influence that caused this. And she blames herself, too. She gave up on him. She didn’t talk to him enough. This whole thing also made the distrust in the Vacker family a lot worse - either Fitz or Biana said in Lodestar that it was like their parents wanted to know everything they’re doing, every place they go. They didn’t trust them. Fitz and Biana were growing closer after everything that had happened the past few years, but Della and Alden didn’t trust them, didn’t trust each other. This led to a lot of arguments between them and the kids, maybe not screaming matches, but raised voices and slammed fists and fighting back tears. When Keefe joined the Neverseen, Fitz shut himself in his room until school started again. He got quieter, and started to feel like he couldn’t trust anyone, even his sister, who he’d been taught to keep secrets from at a very young age. Della wanted to fix this somehow, she didn’t want to lose them like she’d lost Alvar - She wouldn’t give up on them. But she ended up just becoming overbearing and seemingly nosy. She thought she was helping. 

If I remember correctly, the others got told that Squall is Juline in Lodestar when they came to pick up their kids from Rimeshire. Juline gathers everyone and says she has to tell them something, and when she reveals it, Della's smile drops faster than it ever has and she feels blood drain from her face. Juline never looks directly at her, and Della is panicking, thinking about how Juline must hate her. She wonders if she should try to push her away more, but... at this point what does it matter? Fitz and Biana already spend lots of time with Dex, and they just slept over at the Dizznees- she joined an illegal organization with them for stars’ sake! So... it's fine. It's okay for her to be here, at rimeshire, talking to Juline. The world is changing, and people have bigger things to talk about than Alden Vacker’s wife sharing a conversation with Juline Dizznee. As they leave Rimeshire, Juline meets her eyes and offers a small smile. Della nods in return. 

When Alvar had his memories wiped and returned to Everglen, Della was determined to help him. She had this second chance, she wasn’t going to ruin it. She wanted to really believe he’d changed. But then Alvar got his memories back, and in front of the whole world at the celestial festival, he told everyone how his parents had given up on him. Della and Alden were watching that entire thing, as the world watched them, and Della couldn’t breathe. She watched Fitz threaten to kill Alvar, and for a few horrifying moments she thought she was about to lose both of them. And it was her fault, wasn’t it? That’s what everyone said. They blamed her. Alvar blamed her. She wouldn’t be surprised if Fitz and Biana blamed her, too. 

Ever since what the world has canonically deemed the “Scandal at Everglen,” things in the Vacker family have not gotten better. Alden had been talking to Fitz about matchmaking for a while, encouraging him to pursue Sophie as a romantic interest. Eventually they do get together. Della tries to be happy for him, but she still sees this and thinks, maybe give them time. If she could go back, she would have wanted to enjoy her life before committing to the Match forever. She’s almost relieved when Sophie and Fitz don’t work out. She thinks it’ll be better for Fitz in the end. She knows he’s been isolating himself from his family, from the world after the Scandal at Everglen, which is understandable. They all seem to think he’s crazy. He’s seventeen, and he almost killed his own brother, right there. But Della was watching, too, and she saw that it was Gethen doing the manipulating. Using the right words, would they make Fitz turn out like Alvar? The thought still chills her to this day. 

I don’t really have a good way to wrap it up other than I don’t think anything good will be happening to the Vackers anytime soon (except Biana, she seems to be doing relatively good compared to the rest). But yeah those are my Della thoughts :) 

Lastly, art tags:

@cutebisexualmess @void-kill @lemon-girl-in-devil-town @keefe--sencen @tastetherainbow290 

@myfairkatiecat @awful-amateur @aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen @necromycologist @cosmxc-ars3hol3

[prahelika]

Arya Stark Appreciation Week: Day 3

Overlooked Traits : Emotional Intelligence

Game of Thrones massacred Arya's character so badly that to someone who watched the show first (mostly), she appeared downright emotionless.

Safe to say that her emotional intelligence is a criminally underrated trait.

One of Sansa's first mentions of Arya goes like this.

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher's boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block.

- Sansa I, AGOT

She makes friends with anybody. While she doesn't fit in with the highborn ladies of Winterfell, she is universally adored by the smallfolk there.

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father's table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her "Arya Underfoot," because he said that was where she always was.

- Arya II, AGOT

The show portrayed Arya as someone who loses her softness and sweetness as her life gets progressively darker. This couldn't be further from the truth. In ACOK, where her father has just died and she is in hiding among the men of the Watch, even then, she tries her best not to take it out on anyone else. When Hot Pie bullies her for Needle, she remains non-confrontational. He instigates both verbally and physically.

Arya slid her practice sword from her belt. "You can have this one," she told Hot Pie, not wanting to fight. "That's just some stick." He rode nearer and tried to reach over for Needle's hilt.

- Arya I, ACOK

Something else worth noticing is that she stays in hiding in various dangerous places skillfully, in both ACOK and ASOS. No one suspects her of being Arya Stark (excluding Jaqen H'ghar). She even serves as cupbearer to Roose Bolton, and manages not to draw his ire.

She filled Roose Bolton's cup, and did not spill a drop.

- Arya IX, ACOK

This, by the way, isn't just a byproduct of the trauma she endured. All the way back in the first book:

It was the scariest thing she'd ever done. She wanted to run and hide, but she made herself walk across the yard, slowly, putting one foot in front of the other as if she had all the time in the world and no reason to be afraid of anyone. She thought she could feel their eyes, like bugs crawling on her skin under her clothes. Arya never looked up. If she saw them watching, all her courage would desert her, she knew, and she would drop the bundle of clothes and run and cry like a baby, and then they would have her. She kept her gaze on the ground. By the time she reached the shadow of the royal sept on the far side of the yard, Arya was cold with sweat, but no one had raised the hue and cry.

- Arya IV, AGOT

Something else of note is her kindness even when she's suffering. The way she takes care of Weasel even when she's starved or scared.

"You leave Weasel alone, she's just scared and hungry is all." Arya glanced back, but the girl was not following for once.

- Arya V, ACOK

This is what she does - she takes care of people, even when she needs taking care of herself. In Braavos:

"He has no coin," mocked the fair-haired bravo. His dark-haired friend grinned and said something in Braavosi. "My friend Terro is chilly. Be our good fat friend and give him your cloak." "Don't do that either," said the barrow girl, "or else they'll ask for your boots next, and before long you'll be naked." "Little cats who howl too loud get drowned in the canals," warned the fair-haired bravo. "Not if they have claws." And suddenly there was a knife in the girl's left hand, a blade as skinny as she was. The one called Terro said something to his fair-haired friend and the two of them moved off, chuckling at one another. "Thank you," Sam told the girl when they were gone.

- Samwell III, AFFC

There's one last point: apologies. This may not seem very important, but sometimes I see discussions where people claim that Arya is a selfish girl, does not take accountability for her mistakes etc. (usually in the context of Sansa). This is, as most anti-Arya sentiments, blatantly untrue.

Arya raised her eyes. "I'm sorry, Father. I was wrong and I beg my sweet sister's forgiveness."

Sansa was so startled that for a moment she was speechless. Finally she found her voice. "What about my dress?"

"Maybe … I could wash it," Arya said doubtfully.

"Washing won't do any good," Sansa said. "Not if you scrubbed all day and all night. The silk is ruined."

"Then I'll … make you a new one," Arya said.

Sansa threw back her head in disdain. "You? You couldn't sew a dress fit to clean the pigsties."

- Sansa III, AGOT

Arya offers a genuine apology here, even after her sister says horrible things. She even speaks perfectly here, remembering her courtesies. (Keep in mind, this is also after Sansa and Jeyne have told Arya that Mycah's death was her fault. She would be well within her rights to demand an apology from Sansa first.)

The last words they exchange here are:

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm.

"Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her.

- Sansa III, AGOT

This is self-explanatory, really. Also, she apologises to Lady Smallwood for the torn dress.

Lady Smallwood gave her breeches, belt, and tunic to wear, and a brown doeskin jerkin dotted with iron studs. "They were my son's things," she said. "He died when he was seven."

"I'm sorry, my lady." Arya suddenly felt bad for her, and ashamed. "I'm sorry I tore the acorn dress too. It was pretty."

"Yes, child. And so are you. Be brave."

- Arya IV, ASOS

(Unimportant sidenote: I love how kind Lady Smallwood is to Arya here. She really needed this.)

Basically, Arya of House Stark is one of the most emotionally intelligent characters in ASOIAF and I will not hear otherwise.

[hoomandoescosplay]

Becoming Mrs. Potter | James Potter x Reader

Trying to be quiet so as to not wake up his friends, especially Sirius as he can be very grumpy if woken up, he grabs his uniform and robe and goes into their shared bathroom.

After taking a quick shower he gets dressed and brushes his teeth. With one last look in the mirror he ruffles up his hair and leaves the bathroom.

"I was wondering where you were." Remus says from his bed while looking up from the book he was reading. "Hey Moony. Just got up early today for once." James shrugs with a coy smile.

"Yes. The James Potter just happened to get up early for once in his life." Remus playfully taunts. "Hey hey now. Today's a special day which requires special exceptions." He eyes James curious to what he meant. Not saying anymore he heads to their door calling out one last sentence before leaving their shared dorm. "If all goes well you'll know by the end of tonight my dear Moony."

As James is sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast the others eventually join him not too long after. As all of them sat and ate they all joked about random things and tried to plan out their next prank on the school. James's eyes quickly darted over when a certain female walked into the Great Hall finding herself a seat among her group of friends. He watched as she quickly added food to her plate while laughing at something it looked like Marlene said.

He places his head atop of his hand and continues to stare at the girl he's fallen head over heels for. "Prongs? Earth to Prongs." James shook his head and diverted his attention to Sirius. "What's up?" He asks with a lopsided grin. "What's up with you today mate?" Remus sighs and butts in. "Don't bother, he won't tell anyone until later tonight apparently." He only grins at the boys as they finish eating and head off to their first class of the day.

When stepping into the potions classroom he noticed that they were the first ones to get to class. All four of the boys decided to continue thinking of new prank ideas until more people showed up and they had to go sit in their assigned seats.

James never liked being separated from the boys in class but this was the one exception since he was assigned to sit next to (Y/N) (L/N). They've actually become quite close throughout the years of being sat together in potions. And this was the perfect opportunity to slide her a note explaining that he wanted to meet her in the astronomy tower after dinner.

He took out a piece of parchment and wrote a simple note before signing his name and folding it up. Now all he had to do was wait until she sat down which was easier said than done for the anxious boy. He gently tapped his fingers against the wooden desk trying not to attract attention from the sound.

Finally, she pulled out the chair and sat down exhaling and he ruffled up his hair once more. She turns her head and smiles at him. "Hello James." He puts on a huge smile and greets her back. He stared at her for a moment taking in all of her features before snapping out of it and sliding the folded up parchment in her direction. She eyes him quizzically before unfolding it and reading the words written down.

He starts up his tapping once more trying to read the expression on her face as her eyes scan the parchment. When she finishes reading she looks up at him once more and nods her head. "I'm free after dinner so I'm good with meeting up." He lets out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding in and smiles at her. "I am curious why you can't just talk to me now though." She ponders mostly to herself. He puts a finger up to his lips and replies "it's a secret my love." This causes the girl to roll her eyes and try to suppress a grin. "Alright lover boy. I'll leave you to your secrets until we meet up."

The rest of the day felt like it was dragging on to the Potter boy. He has always been quite impatient when it came to waiting for something he was excited for or even something important.

As James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all walked to the Great Hall for dinner they spotted (Y/N) and her friends and decided to sit with them.

Alice and Frank were sitting together while Mary, Dorcas, and Lily were next to them. The boys sat on the other side of the long table with (Y/N) and Marlene. James tried to sit next to (Y/N) but Remus beat him to it as she was sitting at the edge of the table and only had one spot next to her.

As they filled their plates and ate until they were stuffed they all joked the whole time and even planned to all go to Hogsmeade sometime in the upcoming week. James excused himself a few minutes before dinner officially ended so he could get to the astronomy tower and calm his nerves.

As he began to walk his mind started to race. He hasn't been nervous about anything in a long time. He was known as the cocky and confident bloke around Hogwarts and he lived up to it pretty well. However, it mattered to him how this girl was going to respond to something he brought up five years ago. Merlin, he was worried she forgot and would treat him like he was only trying to play with her emotions.

Getting up the final steps he walks to the balcony's railing and leans his body against it as he stares up at the moon shining onto the lake below. He fluffs up his hair for the millionth time today as he hears footsteps approaching.

Turning around he's greeted with a small smile on the girl's face as the moon reflects onto her. She walks up to the stunned boy as they both face the sky. She nudges her shoulder onto his forearm as she speaks up. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" He gulps then takes a deep breath.

"I'm just keeping you to your promise love." She raises her eyebrow to him and places her chin on her hand. "What did I promise the Great James Potter?" He blushes and debates whether he should tell her or just make something up. After a moment he decides he's in too far to back out now and just tells her. "Don't you remember what you promised me back in year two? I remember it quite vividly." He grins while adding, "but you didn't expect me to remember huh?"

(Y/N) stands up straighter trying to rack her brain about what he's talking about. She almost speaks up again saying she really doesn't remember until her eyes widen a bit. James perks up at a reaction from her and hopes she finally remembered.

"If I ask you to marry me again five years from this exact day will you?" James asked the girl with a large grin on his face.

"Yes Potter. I suppose I will." She chuckles lightly. "I doubt you'll remember anyway." As she says this she smirks up at the boy and starts to walk back in the castle.

"You promise (Y/N)?" He calls out to her. "I promise lover boy." She responds without turning around.

After revisiting the memory she turns to the boy gawking at him. "James, that was five years ago! You honestly can't expect us to keep our promise can you?" All he does is grin down at the bewildered girl causing her to blush. "For Merlin's sake we were twelve." She sighs and looks up at James putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

(Y/N) eventually cracks and starts to laugh at the situation. "You should at least take me on a date before you propose you know." That comment was all he needed to hear as he pulled her into his arms. She laughs even more as she cups his face into her hands and kisses him on the forehead. "You're right. I really didn't expect you to remember that." James looks down at her and responds. "How could I ever forget proposing to my future girlfriend." (Y/N) grins up at him and embraces the Potter boy.

As the pair walked through the portrait and into the commonroom with their hands intertwined they were stopped by curious looks from their combined friend groups. (Y/N) sheepishly smiles as James raises their hands up like he does every time he and his team wins the quidditch cup.

The boys hoot and holler as the girls give each other knowing looks while giggling. James pulls (Y/N) into his side and whispers into her ear causing her to blush. "I guess you're one step closer to becoming Mrs. Potter."

[geekywritings]

“Come back to bed.”

Today, I present to you my interpretation of the lovely anonymous ask I received:

“Reader was super touch starved before they started dating and Cal is super touchy, and she loves it but also has trouble getting used it. But her favorite thing is when he rubs her back (comfort or just to be close) and it just becomes a thing for them??"

Again, lots of fluff, so enjoy!

___________

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. On one hand, you feared it, on the other, you desired nothing more than to experience its effects. Thinking about it, your paradox connection to touch probably stemmed from your upbringing. Your mother had worked in one of the adult entertainment establishments of Nar Shadaa, with you growing up in this strange world of opposites.

Poor workers, rich clients. Big expectations, and crushed dreams. Honest touch and paid-for love. It all mixed together in this place, and you had watched it all from the kitchens where you were being kept while your mother served drinks to the various males that frequented the “The Pearl” every night.

Hugs were rare, as your mother wasn’t the type for it. She showed her affection in different ways, first and foremost by sending you away when you were old enough, thus saving you from a future in the establishment.

You attended a pilot academy and graduated among the top of your class. By that time, the Republic had fallen and the Empire was recruiting capable pilots left and right. Needless to say, the strict regime didn’t exactly encourage comradery and touch either.

And so you grew more and more hungry for it, while never quite knowing why.

You also hated working for the Empire. Payment was bad, the treatment of people horrendous and everything about it simply felt wrong.

It was by pure accident that you crossed paths with the rebels when one of them tried to pay you good credits to smuggle someone off-planet along with your booked cargo. You had agreed, mostly for the credits, to be honest, but eventually, helping people became a mission. A true purpose. Something fulfilling.

You also came to love one rebel in particular: Cal Kestis. You had run several missions for and with him until he eventually asked you to join his crew permanently. They could always use a good pilot, he argued. A good friend of his, Greeze, used to be the Captain of the impressive ship he used to get around, but the Latero had retired or was at least taking an extensive break.

And so your story with Cal had begun, quickly growing from allies to friends and eventually romantic partners. It had all happened so fast and your head still reeled from how the redhead had managed to worm his way into your heart. Never had you met anyone displaying such kindness, gentleness, patience and respect. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

He taught you how to fight as well, organizing a metal staff for you after you turned out to be a rather poor shot. You two sparred regularly, with the Jedi putting his combat training into good use to teach you new tricks.

The crew around you changed constantly. Some left, some died, some joined you only for a specific job. But Cal, BD-1 and you were a constant on the Mantis. They were your family and the ship your home.

Often, you would sit awake long into the night, staring out into the galaxy passing you by and thinking about what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t saved up every credit to send you away.

“Didn’t you say you’d join me in 10 minutes?”

You turned and found Cal leaning against the doorway leading to the cockpit. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy, but a small smile was playing on his lips, as he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

“That was three hours ago, love.”, he added when you sent him a confused look.

“Oh…”, was all you could say, not having realized how much time had passed. Getting lost in memories did that to you.

Stifling a yawn, Cal moved to drop into the Co-pilot seat, green eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep again?” His voice was full of sympathy as he reached out a hand to rest on your knee.

There it was again: touch.

Cal always reached for you. Whether it was for a hug or a kiss, to hold your hand, to just feel you near or to make sweet love with you. Every touch from his was special and you did your best to reciprocate. You still remembered the look of pure joy the first time you initiated a hug or gave him a kiss or reached for his hand on your own. It helped you greatly to open yourself to the kind of love language you had yearned for, yet still needed to grasp fully.

You stared at his hand on your knee and slowly placed yours on top of his.

“I was thinking about my mother… and everything she did to give me a good life.”

Cal nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything, allowing you to unload your thoughts. He knew your past and had even volunteered to help your mom, but she had disappeared from “The Pearl” after your graduation with no sign of her to be found.

“She saved you. That’s love.”, he eventually spoke and you smiled.

“I wish I could have shown her more that I loved her.”, you sighed. You regretted that you hadn’t hugged her more on your own accord.

“I am sure that she knew.”, Cal assured you, ever the supportive voice for your conscience.

You smiled at him and nodded, before slipping from the pilot’s chair into his lap, arms sneaking around him. “I love you, Cal… And I want to show you every day.”, you muttered into his neck, as his arms came to rest around you.

“You do show me every day, Starlight.”, he whispered back, holding you close. “And I am so very grateful for it, because I love you as well. To the end of the Galaxy and back.”

For a while you just sat in silence, enjoying the proximity, Cal's hand drawing small circles on your lower back. It was your favourite, really, the gesture always helping you relax.

“Now come back to bed, love.”, the Jedi whispered eventually and you nodded, allowing him to carry you back into your room, where you both gave into desire.

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. But you were ready to open your heart to it fully, as long as Cal was with you.

[0v3rcast]

Self Aware Wuthering Waves Ideas:

Feel free to use them. Just tell me if you do (so I can read your work). This will be a list of random idea bits. Spoilers ahead.

The creator of the world (you) is called either the Metronome [providing the backbone of existence by 'keeping time' with your metaphysical heartbeat in the same way as the device does in music] or the First Howl [the birth of existence in deafening sound, with the resonance of your voice shattering unreality to make everything].

You loved music in your first life, and sound-based powers were the first thing you'd unlocked with godly energy. You took a mortal body to walk among your creations and know them.

Your first body died during a disastrously failed peacetalk between two old-world nations, and the first Tacet Field grew from your blood. It's believed that the TDs are the world's rage at humankind for their actions manifested.

The Threnodians and Sentinels are made from your old body, though the parts have been long since warped by time and collected resonance.

The Threnodians have a core sound, a resonation of your dying moments. A gurgle, a gasp. Choking. Blood dripping. The strongest Threnodian is made from your final exhale of breath, and the strongest Sentinel is made from your final inhale of breath.

The reason you can collect so many TD echoes in the game is because it's you who is helping the Rover. They state it's a rare occurrence to get an echo normally in one of the quests - versus the Rover, who can get entire groups of them in a single fight if they're lucky.

Religious practices involving atonement for the guilt of humanity [your killers] are common, and in the most severe sects, some will go so far as to flagellate themselves or have a religious leader do it monthly.

TDs don't attack religious buildings constructed in your honor. They just take them over for themselves, half-understanding the significance and also liking the acoustics of the rooms.

Live music is always to be played at one of your temples. Since very little of the music you like is remembered this many years after your death, they're left to choose their own playlists.

In places without instruments, people use what they can to make noise, and there's a longstanding tradition of oral storytelling in the form of songs in places where people live.

It's believed that there's a sacred note or series of notes that you love dearly, based on a mistranslation of an old-world religious book from some abandoned religion.

The Rover and friends shouldn't be able to survive half the shit they do - you're giving them and others in the main story plot armor in the form of a nearly imperceptible sound that throws off aim and weakens the strength in muscles.

Full resurrection isn't possible for anyone else, so when you're reviving someone mid-fight, it's the equivalent of using smelling salts to wake someone up from a decapitation, but somehow it works.

Your reappearance in the world was first thought to be the release of some ancient Threnodian that was older than any known ones, or perhaps even the being that embodies the end of reality. Nah, s'just you, much to the relief and joy of humanity.

Sure, your powers are... dwindled, but you did un-mortis. That's fucking crazy.

Your avatar, the Rover, kicking Dreamless' ass and metaphorically skullfucking Ovathrax's attempted rematch was basically seen as a sign that you've mostly forgiven humanity for their mistake.

It's impossible for you to have a doppelganger, as the amount of resonance that's required to sustain your physical form (and is emanated by you) would reduce other people to a fucking pulp or shake their organs into mist inside their torsos.

You have no voice of your own when you go to Sol-3. You're like a TD, in the way that the only sounds you can make are sounds that you've heard and collected.

It's the one thing that's forever lost to you, and for weeks after your arrival, you sound like an EDM mashup as you try to speak to people but don't realize what you're saying is total nonsense and scrambled noises.

Early on, you can say intelligible things with enough effort, but it takes all your focus to string together even a handful of words. Sign language is a good friend to you in the early days, if you know it, and if you don't, they're happy to teach you.

People are deeply unsettled by your manner of speaking because sometimes you laugh, but it sounds like someone's spine breaking in multiple places, or you yawn, and it sounds like someone in a car crash.

You don't have any echoes when in the world. The TDs just want to hang out with you anyway.

Eventually, Outcasts find oldworld tech full of machined voices, and now you sound like Miku. Or like Microsoft Sam. Or multiple of them at once, making you seem to talk the way the Master from the original Fallout talks.

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt 6(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

Stuck in by the rain, you, Simon, and Sam receive important news over dinner...

Part 5, Part 7, Masterlist

Image from GIF by tana-the-dreamchaser

Simon followed you up the stairs like a shadow, his steps even but quiet. If not for his hand seeking yours you would have thought him a ghost. He seems to seek you like a moth to starlight and you find yourself relaxing with his close presence. You reach the door at the top of the stairs and push it open to be met with the smell of a simmering spice. You perk up instantly and call out for Sam. His curls pop out of the kitchen and seeing your entwined hands he smiles.

“Are you making what I think you are making?” You ask hopefully, eyes softened towards your friend. You step into the living area and release your hand from Simon’s. He abides by it but lingers close to you, choosing to take in his surroundings. 

The vibes of the apartment are, well, eclectic. Amongst the thriving house plants, SImon can see little bits of you and Sam. The worn love seat a dappled plum color, a plush leather couch, and, he looks at the floor and chuckles, a fox in a sweater welcome mat. You move to the kitchen after asking Simon to make himself comfortable. He nods and moves to the loveseat, taking your backpack off and setting it to the side before taking a seat. He observes further as you step into the kitchen to talk to Sam. 

On the coffee table, there is a vase of sunflowers, the TV stand is an old steamer trunk, and lining the far walls across from the door are books. Upon four shelves is a library’s worth of books and Simon stands and approaches them. Upon further expectation he cracks a smile, the inner panel of the bookshelves are painted the same as the ceiling of the bookstore. A rough hand comes up and he traces the spines of some of the leather-bound books. There are books of all kinds roughly categorized by genre. Littered amongst the shelves are other things, among them, Simon finds things like a cow teapot, a Union Jack mug holding pens, leather-bound notebooks, a dragon beanie baby, and something else that pauses his searching. 

On a desk in the middle of the two sets of shelves is a collection of mechanical parts. The smell of gun oil and steel pulls memories from service and he leans down, turning on the desk lamp to examine it closer. In the middle of the desk is a typewriter. The carriage is set aside from the body of the typewriter and the smell of oil gets stronger. He looks around the table and finds a myriad of cases, some big and others small, mostly belonging to what he assumes to be typewriters. 

You pop your head out of the kitchen to call for SImon but you find him engrossed in his examination. You smile, unsurprised at his curiosity, most visitors are drawn in by the book before stumbling upon your workstation. You step out of the kitchen and call to him. He looks up and turns to you in question. 

“Dinner is ready.” 

You say it with a growing grin as Sam had made enchiladas in a Tex-Mex style you missed. Simon looks back to the disassembled typewriter once more before he approaches you and follows you into the kitchen. If the living area was eclectic the kitchen was more so. Along the walls of the modest space hung pictures of every kind. Along the side wall, under a window was an old dresser or antique buffet that held a beaten-up record player. Along the wall were art prints, old diagrams, and book posters. On the buffet, next to the kitchen table was a collection of tabletop books, big glossy things meant as eye candy. He huffs a laugh at the selection: fox photo collections, Jules Verne releases, and typewriters. 

He turns his attention to Sam who is already sitting at the table, three places set for you guys to eat. Even the cutlery and plates are a mix of wild colors and subtle finery. You move to the stove where a baking dish holds something excellent smelling. Grabbing some oven mitts (fox chefs of course) you take the dish and set it on some ceramic pot holders on the table. 

“I hope you like enchiladas.” You say it with a pleased expression before shooting Sam a nostalgic smile. You motion for Simon to sit and he does before you take the seat next to him. 

You all begin to eat without much fuss, conversation passing in softer words between you and Sam while Simon chimes in every once in a while. However, after about 15 minutes in, Sam pauses as if remembering something. 

You see a look pass over his face before he reaches behind him and picks up a letter off of the counter behind him. He offers it to you and you recognize the handwriting.

“Sofia was here earlier, she looked urgent and dropped this off mentioning for you to read it. Something about a collaboration of some kind for a release over here. She wouldn’t give me more details than that before she was rushing off to her next appointment.”

“Huh,” You work on prying the envelope open gently, “she would normally call.”

Sam shrugs but watches with curiosity as you pull out a typed document. The paper at first touch is heavy, almost a thin cardstock, and the smell of ink and paper is crisp. There is even a wax seal holding the paper close and you want to roll your eyes. The sneaking familiarity seeps into your bones as you swipe a finger under the seal breaking it and unfolding the paper. When you read the heading your stomach clenches. It was from your old company. Something in your demeanor must have changed as you lean back in your chair feeling suddenly winded. Sharp eyes turn to you and Simon and Sam both stop eating.

“What is it? Sam asks with concern, leaning forward in his chair. Simon next to you frowns as your eyes skim the letter, your shoulders getting tenser and tenser. At the end of the letter, you bite your lip before slowly closing the letter and handing it across the table to Sam without a word. He about tears it open and reads it himself. 

“This is bullshit.” These are the first words out of his mouth and he tosses the letter onto the table. You don't reply, instead pushing your almost empty plate aside and putting your head in your hands with a sigh. Simon’s hand finds your knee under the table instantly and you eye him through your hands. There is exhaustion in your eyes, one that is familiar to him. You move to lay your head down with a sigh, leaning towards Simon naturally for comfort. 

“What is it, Dove?” He asks, voice low.

“Read for yourself.” Is all you offer and he does so, reaching a long arm for the letter before reading. 

The letter begins with a ‘greetings’ in a faceless text. Following are niceties and a “wish you are well’. One that you wanted to scoff at, given your last encounter with your previous publisher. He continues over the unnecessary and gets to the meat of the letter. 

… due to the raving success of your last book under our services, we have decided to do a release tour and event of James’s new book under your direction. We have already reached out to Sofia for contact with you.  Given both books' American popularity, we expect such a collaboration to benefit not only you but also White Owl Publishing. We expect James’s arrival in London this Sunday. If you have any questions please reach us at…

Simon frowns and looks at you.

“When the hell did James start writing?” Sam asks you but you just groan and pull yourself up, a hand reaching under the table to squeeze Simon’s in silent thanks. Something serious settles over you,

“I don’t know. Maybe when he started sleeping with the CEO’s daughter.” 

You bite it, voice sharp as a knife. The woman was an accomplished author under her fathers' direction and specialized in YA and new adult romance novels. You used to hold a lot of respect for her when you first joined the company but she soon, after learning of your specialization in children's literature, became downright dismissive. That dismission partnered with a giggly fascination with James, turned you away from her and towards the more quiet of the other authors and editors. However, given her status as the CEO's daughter, there was no escaping her influence, thankfully Sofia was always with you, and due to your focus on children, you didn't have to interact with her much. Other than events like the Publisher’s Gala, and well you know how the last one turned out. 

After the gala, you had learned from one loyal person, a fellow children's author named Sarah that the affair had been going strong for months. She hadn’t known until a drunk Sabrina had bragged on his arm at an after-party that faithful night. She called the moment she discovered your plans to leave and wanted you to know. 

Back in the moment, you debate your options. Given the publication’s no doubt about you after the Gala, you couldn’t risk saying no to this. Why they wanted to associate with a ‘failure and second rate nobody’ you didn't know. You look to Sam, his family's business was now connected with one of the largest publishers in America, and you weren't going to risk their skins because of disgust and fear. A silent resolution lit up your face, Sam, seeing this, grins. 

“You're going to go with this.” It's not a question out of his mouth. A shaky smile hits your face at that. Simon just looks to you, something about your determination makes him want to smile. His hand turns to entangle with yours under the table and you look at him, taking this as his support. 

“Johnny will want to knock some heads” His voice surprises you and laughter bubbles out of your chest. It quiets down to giggles a moment later and you pull your plate back to you. He wasn't wrong. A few tea times after meeting the man you had told the Scot the story of why you ended up in London. His brows furrowed and looking at you he cursed.

“Cheat? On a prize like you lass? Need me to do him in?”

You mention this to Simon in a giggle. He smiles.

“Good man, Johnny is.” 

He runs his thumb over your knuckles and you breathe out as your heart skips a beat, tension draining from your form as you take another bite before nodding in agreement. Simon gives you a small smile before he turns back to his food with a hum, but his hand remains in yours through the rest of dinner. 

--- 

After dinner, you stand up to collect the dishes. Sam gives you a look before shooting up to race you to the sink. You beat him by a foot before splashing him with cool water. He chuckles at you, eyes brightening at your mirthful expression. You hear the sound of a chair and Simon stands. Sam looks at you with a grin and a raised brow before he pulls himself into a stretch. 

He looks at Simon and then back to himself.

“I may have a shirt and some sweats if you’d like to change Simon.” 

The taller man moves around the table and pauses, looks down at his jeans, and gives a nod. With the confirmation, Sam winks at you and leaves the kitchen for his room. You shake your head fondly before going to wash the dishes, but a hand stops you. Simon is next to you then, the proximity quickening your heart once again.

“I’ll do ‘em,” 

is a statement and he nudges you aside gently with his large frame. You realize then just how big he is. While you were by no means tiny, Simon was tall. Sam was easily 6’ but you had to tilt your head to look up at Simon. He started dutifully washing plates without any more comments so you studied the side profile of his face. With a strong jawline cut with a few scars, your eyes focus on his eyes, focused and quiet as he works. The action, so domestic, calms something in you. While you loved being with Sam, you missed being with a partner sometimes, the attraction and the comfort. You loved Sam like a brother and that came with the typical roommate squabbles sometimes, you laugh mentally. You missed James some though despite everything. Having another person to hold was a human element absent in your life. 

But, your heart murmured, there is Simon.

You sigh inwardly, your heart skipping a beat as you envision his smiles. They lit up his face in a way that took the weight of his service, the exhaustion, off his shoulders for even a brief moment. He had seemingly been open, but respectful about some sort of feelings towards you, and you cherished his careful support. 

Your hand on his arm pauses Simon, and his eyes flicker down to yours in question. Without much thought your hand traces what is exposed of his forearm, fingers swirling around the inked skin, you linger a moment. Then, with a steady exhalation from Simon, your hands follow up his arm and over the sleeve, feeling the strength of his bicep Simon stills. His other hand reaches for the hand towel and setting the plate down he pulls back from the sink and turns his attention fully to you. 

You look engrossed in your study of him, like a jeweler over a diamond or precious stone. You lift for a moment seeing the towel and step back, allowing the man to dry his hands before he takes the next step to follow you. Your eyes widen in realization when your back hits the side counter and Simon steps comfortably, naturally even, into your space. 

Your breath catches in your throat when he raises a hand to your face, it ghosts over your cheek before, heart pounding, you lean into his palm. It is rough, worn from years of work, but it's warm, and something deep in you preens at the touch. Honey eyes find yours, widening a moment as you lean in, before lowering in reverence. Here you were, he thought, 

“Sweet thing.” 

It comes out in a whisper and your heart clenches. You close your eyes, raising a hand against his, cherishing the feel of the touch. His heart stutters then when you reopen your eyes and give him a sweet smile. Your hand runs down his arm and the other wraps around his abdomen and you close the space between the both of you with an embrace. His arms drop in surprise, but as your head comes to rest against his chest, they soon engulf you in the scent of leather and smoke. 

With your ear against his sturdy chest, you can hear his heart pick up, you smile to yourself then, happy the effect is mutual. Simon inhales the scent of old books and baked goods and hums, the sound reverberating through you. He chuckles before setting his head on yours just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You mutter something and he questions you with another hum. You repeat it a bit louder.

“Want dessert?” The question incites a chuckle from him and his arms loose to look down at you. Something swirls in his eyes, warm like syrup, and his lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Sure, Honey.” The two syllables of endearment are languid and you bask in them like a noon sun. His eyes flicker down to your lips a moment and your breath catches, but the sound of footsteps alerts you to Sam. You know him well enough, he doesn't want to interrupt so you smile at Simon and run your hands up his arms before stepping out of his grasp. Sam enters a second later with a bundle of clothes. His eyes are lit up and after glancing at you he grins at Simon.

“Here you are, Mate.” He gives a mock British accent and hands the bundle to Simon. You then pat the taller man's arm.

“Guest room is down the hall, Sam will show you. There's a bathroom too. I hope you eat cheesecake?” 

You ask him and he just nods before Sam motions to him to follow. Simon gives you one last glance then heads after Sam. Once both men are out of the kitchen you grasp at your pounding heart as your stomach flutters. You felt giddy, a childish wonder in your heart at the affection. Simon was so warm and you felt safe in his arms. You hum to yourself as you pass to the fridge, opening it and examining the inside. 

Beside produce and leftovers sat your quarry, made a day or so ago. There sat a glorious strawberry shortcake cheesecake, made by you. Albeit there was a slice missing courtesy of Sam but the cake was an absolute unit. You pull the covered dish out carefully as Sam pads into the kitchen alone. He leans against the counter as you work and regards you. 

You hum more as you work, relaxing further in his presence, reaching to grab three plates. You then cut modest slices for each of you before sticking the rest of the cake back in the fridge.

“You’re thinking too loud Sammy.”

You then turn to him, a knowing look on your face. What surprises you is the serious look on his, Sam’s arms are crossed as he leans. You set the plates on the table before approaching your friend.

“What’s wrong?” 

Green eyes turn to you, dark as English ivy, and they flicker down to you.

“I think James means trouble.”

It is all he offers. You sigh, taking a seat at the table. You think a moment. You wondered why your manager, Sofia wouldn't have called you, but this seemed like such a sudden onset by your old publisher. Given her sudden rush to leave you wondered where this put Sam’s family. Hearing your story the small publisher was happy to take both you and Sofia under their wing. White Owl Publishing was small, but they had cherished new classics under them. Your eyes flick up to meet Sam’s.

“We can’t risk your family’s reputation. Not after everything they've done for me and Sofia.”

Sam’s jaw clenches and you are taken aback a moment when his muscles tense. Sam had always been the most level-headed person you know. 

“I don’t give a shit after what he’s done to you.” It is firm, Sam stands taller at the statement. You think back to the firm grip on your neck. Showing up at Sam’s door with tears streaming down your face, the choked sobs. It was the first but not the last time the man had laid hands on you. Weeks before the gala was marked with a possession like no other by James. In hindsight making up for his affair but you didn’t and still don’t understand why Sam triggered it. 

“I should have knocked his teeth in the first time he touched you.” 

Sam’s voice is even but you can sense the rage simmering. You get up and go to him seeking to comfort him but you jump when you see the form of Simon at the entrance of the kitchen. Your surprise has Sam turning as well, the simmer broken.

“He grabbed you, Dove?”  Simon’s voice is ice. If you thought Sam was simmering rage, Simon has the look of a soldier. His eyes are dark and his lips are up in a snarl, but he is collected, with a refined rage, trained to kill. You gulp. You nod slowly. 

“In the past month or so before the gala, when I found out he was cheating. James got possessive.” You say it calmly but there is a bubble of anxiety, black and vile, in your stomach. You try to shake it off, but the shadow of the experience hangs over you. Simon, fresh from the shower steps into the kitchen, hands open in an offering. Sam watches as you glance at Simon before stepping into the man’s embrace, something in his chest settling with firm contentment. 

Simon on the other hand wraps you in one arm and uses his hand to smooth down your hair. He rocks you slowly and you melt in his arms. You calm in his arms, staying a quiet moment before running a hand over his shoulder and reluctantly pulling back. You look up to Simon with a shy smile,

“The cake will get warm.”

He lets you go slowly and follows you and Sam to the table. He takes the same seat and is met with a heavenly smell. The smell of vanilla and strawberry draws his eyes to the masterpiece in front of him. Sam offers him a smile before taking a large bite out of the cake that makes you giggle. You look at Simon before taking your own, albeit more modest bite. Simon follows and is met with heaven. Strawberry bursts on his tongue as the combination of heavy cheesecake and fluffy shortcake mix into a powerful combination.

“Fucking hell Love.” Is all he offers and you laugh, not expecting such a reaction from the stoic man. Your laughter is music to his ears,

“Glad you like it, Simon.” 

He could get used to the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. 

End Chapter 6

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost, @nexthyperfix

[vaguely-concerned]

Stray Gods Character Design Thoughts

In order we're going Pan, Apollo, Persephone, Eros, Aphrodite and a little bit of Venus! Disclaimer that I have no professional experience in character design at all, so these are only my vibes-based ramblings and observations purely for fun and because my brain simply won't shut up about this game haha. Also I will freely admit Pan probably gets the most attention in this because of who I am as a person and where my heart truly lies at the end of the day lol

PAN

Ok, first of all I have so many questions and they all delight me. This guy is the god of the wild places ("Where else would I be, but among the trees and the wild things?"), he lives in a magical garden on top of an office building... and he’s walking around everywhere in an expensive three piece tailored suit (when Freddie accuses him of being a sleaze in a cheap suit he protests mildly that his suit is anything but cheap haha). The cut of it is really carefully thought out and planned, but the bold colours under the grey coat and (studied I am sure) careless details like the tie also make it fun and playful. Which is pleasingly coherent with the general theme of his character in the writing too and I adore it.  

This is not the point, I know, but I’m wondering how he makes that work just like. Practically now. Has Athena fixed up Olympus with in-house laundry service? And other sentences I did not expect to type out today lol. Ah well he’s wily I’m sure he has his ways. 

I can't heap enough praise on it, this design is SUCH an interesting and elegant marriage of the immediately recognizable satyr features and thus animal symbolism with all its added pagan weight in a post-Christianity setting, and the sort of ‘man of wealth and taste’ imagery of the devil at the crossroads they clearly want to evoke, especially in his first scene. And partially through his mannerism there’s also an added element of like… eccentric but surprisingly competent college professor — just look at the way he carries himself whenever he isn’t putting on the charm or when he’s being guarded and self-contained. That little hands resting on his back pose exudes ‘nerd’ so deeply to me haha. (Incredibly fuckable nerd, to be sure, but still!)

you don't fool me buddy I know what you are. I know all the trouble you went to to get a book.

His body language shifts very quickly between wild playful expressiveness and a sort of nonchalant urbane detachment that borders on coldness sometimes, and it fascinates me. Especially since that more refined unavailable side seems to be something he’s deliberately cultivated, to some extent. When Grace calls him out on how boring it sounds to just let yourself go numb and distant to survive, he doesn’t deny that at all, only saying that at least it’s been quite effective. 

Putting the rest under a cut to save people's dashes! I may, as they say, have gotten a tiny bit carried away.

Physically he’s not very imposing — he’s only a little taller than Grace, and the shortest of all of the love interests, which I find somehow very charming and also plays into him being more of a guile-based character. “Seeing as I am neither big nor truly bad, it behooves me to be wary of those who are both” indeed!

I’m fairly sure he’s the character wearing the most layers. Even his hands are mostly covered by gloves. He partially covers up his eyes with the tinted glasses — interesting, as one of the features that most give his real nature away with their sidewise pupils, and the lenses are tinted purple as the complimentary colour to yellow, so it downplays just how bright they are. All together it’s very much a ‘well, he’s certainly got to be in there somewhere’ sort of vibe at times. (Since he also seems to care about his clothes quite a bit — he complains about scuffing his pants during the climb in the Medusa mission if you go the lockpick route — I have drawn the conclusion that getting him out of all of that must take quite a bit of time, no matter how much practice he’s probably put in over the years of meeting 'delicious people' lol) 

It’s a design that manages to give, at the same time: animal-featured ancient god, deal with the devil, teacher, overtones of con man if you’re inclined to be Freddie-levels of uncharitable lol, eccentric rich weird uncle… there’s a lot going on here and somehow it all works haha. He isn’t wearing any jewelry at all unless you count the glasses, which now that I’m looking at the rest of the character designs in this game is actually fairly rare among them!

His eyes really are incredibly bright when uh naked as it were, though. I like the implication that he is aware of this and actually goes out of his way to downplay it, even when he’d normally be wearing glamour anywhere it would strictly matter for it to show. Between that, the meaningful zoom in on him at the Underworld when Apollo says that all the Idols can be themselves there even if they don’t look human, Pan claiming he’s been distrusted and side-eyed by the others basically since the beginning and seeming kind of frustrated and hurt about it, in his deflecting way, and the implication of a hierarchy among the Idols at least under Athena’s leadership in this stained glass painting (notably all the visibly non-human Idols/hangers on are at the bottom, and Hecate, Asterion and especially Medusa are the characters most affected and confined by the oppressive status quo Athena upholds)...

this one! sing it with me now EVERYBODY LEAVES THIS PLACE ALIVEEE ok we can move on

you know, some possible Subtext and Implications going on here, I’d say. (It is only potential subtext and implication, though, so, you know, take my extrapolations here with a grain of salt!) He certainly doesn’t do himself many favors with the persona he’s built up in regards to being trusted and included either, but his status as a little bit of an outsider does seem to precede that so I feel like it’s more of a response than the main cause. Along the same lines he gets much more testy about the Green route of ‘I Can Teach You’ than he does about you just not choosing him in the Red one, he takes that pretty gracefully. So it is the being deliberately kept on the outside and openly distrusted and dismissed that gets to him. (To be clear I don't think openly distrusting a strange guy showing up in your living room like that is at all unreasonable either haha I just think the nuances of his response are enlightening as to where he's really coming from)

this one isn't even to illustrate anything it's just because I love him so much and think he's pretty I'll be real with you all

Anyway I just keep thinking about how incredibly tender it would be if sometimes, when they’re in private, Grace takes his glasses off to see his eyes better and he lets her. That shakes something deep in my soul apparently. That fucks me up but like in a good way.

APOLLO

- Apollo’s style of dress leaves his navel helpfully exposed for the copious amounts of depressed gazing he habitually subjects it to. (I say this not entirely without affection.) 

a crumpled tissue of a man

In keeping with his incredibly emo mode, there’s very little colour involved and he doesn’t take much care to present anything with care (look at the state of that shirt and tell me if Apollo has picked up an iron in the last forty years), BUT interestingly he’s not entirely open and unadorned, he does wear that network of jewelry across his chest and neck. Which I think is to show that the old Apollo is not entirely gone (“There he is, god of the sun”), even if he has been a sack stuffed with sad for a long time now. I wonder how many of these things are leftover preferences from being only Lucas — presumably the tattoos at least are from before he fished Apollo up from the sea? If I’m reading the vibes right on that, the blue of the tattoos and the gold of the sun… thingy he wears with the jewelry are the main splashes of colour in his design aside from his hair, and they’re both ‘leftovers’ from both his previous lives, surfer bro and solar deity recently fallen on hard times. Physically he would be tall and imposing, parodically built, except that he carries himself with all the confidence and panache of a damp depressed dishrag. 

Also I can’t believe this guy is walking around everywhere in sandals. Apollo makes sad flip-flop sounds wherever he goes, including when he steps up during ‘The Trial’. That’s so amazingly pathetic (affectionate). 

We can see from the photo with him and Calliope that he wasn’t always quite this much of a mess. Once, he did his shirt up a whole maybe four buttons and wore something that wasn’t beige!

Intellectually I acknowledge that it's a design meant to provide fanservice, even though I personally could not consider this guy in a sexual or romantic light if you gave me a thousand years to build up to it. (I've said it before but if he's anything to me, he is the incredibly fail father figure continually letting me down in tiny ways I never had.) Godspeed to the Apollo-enjoyers out there, though, Summerfall gave him those abs and that poor little meow meow energy just for you and it's your right to enjoy that

- Pan and Apollo also bring out some really interesting contrasts both as characters and designs when you hold them up against each other:  

Once you scratch the surface a tiny bit Pan clearly has just as much self-loathing as Apollo (“If Athena had taken me up on my offer, the Idols would have been better off” uh. Okay buddy we’re gonna have to process that one together later what do you say), but where Apollo is completely helplessly open in his misery at all times, you need to unbutton Pan at least three layers until you get a honest or straightforward emotion out of him and I think that’s amazingly carried through into their visual designs. It's Good Visual Storytelling Brent   

PERSEPHONE

- I’m fairly sure the colour of Persephone’s suit is supposed to evoke pomegranate seeds. See and judge for yourself I suppose: 

She also has details on her coat that depict foliage and growing plants, but colour-wise they and the rest of the detailing is in the blue-green that symbolizes the Underworld and so death. Her jewelry is gold, which — and I’m about to do some reaching here, I’ll be big enough to own — could play in with Hades being the god of riches as well as of the dead/the underworld. Probably it’s because it works well with the colour scheme, but I’m going to pretend that it’s because even if she didn’t get the throne she did get that motherfucker’s hoard when she killed him <3 Love that for her. Her jewelry is more rose gold than Apollo’s yellow gold, too. Watch me go for even more of a reach: between the necklace and the watch, those round discs of gold remind me of the coins put on the eyes of the dead but like you know repurposed since she doesn't need them to pay the Ferryman. I never promised I'd be reasonable in this did I.  

The short hair works real well for the butch vibe and looks amazing no notes, but I think it’s also a deliberate way to differentiate herself from her younger self — when speaking of Demeter’s death, she says that moment was also the final death of that young her, ‘that girl with the long hair who loved her gardens’. Clearly the Idols do a lot of reinventing themselves over the ages in more and less conscious ways.

She has a tattoo of what looks to be foliage and a skull across her left chest and arm. I really like that idea of her having the testament to both sides of her — goddess of spring, queen of the underworld — directly on her skin, under two layers of clothes that each represent those aspects. The one on her arm looks like stalks of grain tied together to resemble the bones of the hand/forearm, maybe? which is metal as fuck, needless to say. 

She is TALL and scary and the staging always plays that up, Grace tends to look up at her like O.O. I love how sharp she is too. 

Also she is incredibly hot but you don’t need me to tell you that you all have eyes I assume. 

EROS, APHRODITE and VENUS:

- I love literally everything about Eros’ design except his hair. Not even the concept of the haircut and colours or anything, just the way it’s rendered. It looks like one strange flat cap I can’t quite make understandable in three dimensional space as hair in my head lol. Other than that it’s a banging design though, the delicate see-through material over the leather BDSM harness is genius. Choosing this form of sensuality and attractiveness for him to embody -- one that is so deeply queercoded -- also works super well. The warmth and vulnerability of his body language on top of it is *chef's kiss*. just. please define his hair a bit more and it's perfect haha.

- I'm not sure I have that much to say about Aphrodite’s design except that of course she is beauty she is grace etc., it takes a lot of thought to make such a simple design shine and by god did they do it she’s so stunning. Also interesting how her dark blues and greens with cool/silvery details contrast with Venus’ warm reds and pinks and… brass? Idk I don’t really understand jewelry haha. All warmth and soft romanticism, anyway, it looks nice. (Side note but I love Venus’ rose tattoo.) Eros and Venus have much more matching colour schemes and they both bring those islands of warmth standing around Aphrodite in her shimmering ocean coolness. (Which of course is something she has to deliberately put on before going into public these days, and is unselfconsciously glamorous in the way of an old timey Hollywood starlet, as the blue route of 'The Ritual' lampshades)

:') *whisper* everybody...

Venus is wearing pearls, which is pleasing considering her connection to Aphrodite (and the backgrounds of the 'Lost in a Moment' variant of 'The Ritual')! and both of her and Aphrodite's outfits go for a shoulderless look to great effect.

ETA: When the camera is close on Aphrodite you can actually see that she has dark circles under her eyes, only partially covered by the makeup :'( I didn't notice that before I played through 'The Ritual' on a bigger screen today

All in all I just want to acknowledge what a fantastic job the character designers at Summerfall Studios have done! There are some really fresh new takes on these mythological figures here, and it makes so much sense within the world the game presents without resorting to well-worn and tired iconography, I really do admire it greatly.

[in-the-dead-of-night-rp]

In the Dead of Night first wave AUDITIONS are now OPEN!

From September 4th to September 29th

✧ PREMISE ✧

A once peaceful group torn in two by dissonance has led to endless violence among the Clans.

ThistleClan, a closed off group who are descendants of Scottish Wildcats, claim the lush and densely grown pine forest. The cave on the coast of a loch is taken by the open and presumptuous GaleClan, consisting mostly of past loners who joined in search of fulfilment.

Their hatred for eachother has been weaved into their minds for generations. With the leaders of both Clans constantly at each other's throats, the tension between all cats continues to grow stronger and more brutal with every passing moon. As the death count from battle grows, the seemingly endless cycle of bloodshed continues.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

In the Dead of Night is a literate roleplay which is hosted on Discord. The roleplay takes place in the Scottish Highlands, and takes very close inspiration from the official book series and its canon.

This roleplay is community driven. The story revolves around every member’s characters, and we highly encourage people to come up with past, present and future plot points to pitch in! We want people to feel as immersed as possible, and this means not having to confine your characters to a specific prewritten story. Although we have events planned to keep things interesting, they are purposefully written to be open-ended and to be bent around in the moment depending on what happens!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Join our Discord server for more info!

(Click here to join our Discord server)

[sleepysloth99]

Your Favorite Martian Headcanons, pt 2 of ?

This time, I'm doing it with Gen 2.

Puff Puff

He's going into therapy now. Gen 1.5 him was an asshole and now he's trying to improve.

He's in a huge situationship with Tig, trying to be better for her, but he kinda doesn't know how.

Despite his job as a waiter, it is better pay than his previous job.

Puff Puff lives with his grandma after she left the nursing home back in 1.5, but he lives there half-time. He leaves when he's either on tour with the guys or if he vanishes since he tends to do that sometimes. He always comes back, though. Surprisingly, he is very protective of his Meemaw.

He's made amends with people he's messed things up with. Him and Deejayne aren't friends but are on civil terms now.

He eventually got back in touch with Wilton (Nerdy dude from gen 1.5) and they talk a lot.

Deejay

Him and Deejayne are still very close! They facetime very often, and Deejayne invites him over during the holidays.

He uses online therapy since it's more in his budget, and he definitely finds YFM to be a therapeutic outlet.

His change of voice was because he got vocal lessons from Puff Puff and Benatar.

He got back in touch with estranged family.

Over the years since gen 1.5, Deejay is no longer the "voice of reason" since the guys all matured more and now the role of being the voice of reason is a little more evenly distributed among the 4 members.

He's still in charge of paying Netflix, though.

Axel

He decided to get buff since constant and structured movements helped him focus on his songs and calmed him down.

He's got folks somewhere, he doesn't know where. But he does know that his number one family is in an RV.

Both him and Puff Puff stopped being too mean to Benatar after he openly expressed a dislike for it.

Over the years, the guys have gotten closer as the four of them matured and understood the need to be more deeply connected in order to be a stronger band. As a result, Axel is more open to talking about how he feels now and encourages his bandmates to do the same.

He's still crummy with emotions, but he tries. He mostly uses the drums to convey his feelings.

He's getting treatment for his herpes back in gen 1.5. He's a lot more responsible with sex now.

Benatar

He actually became more assertive over the years. He's still polite, but he doesn't let anyone disrespect him anymore.

He teaches Axel English work and literary analysis since Axel was unable to finish high school.

He was initially picked on because he was the odd one out in terms of lifestyle. The other three were poor and had physically abusive parental figures in their lives. Benatar had a nice house and was well off, but his mother was emotionally, verbally, and mentally abusive, and his father was around but he wasn't emotionally available for Benatar and would frequently parentify him. This explains his passive and quiet demeanor in the past generations of Your Favorite Martian.

He plays GTA 5 and stops at the redlights, acts nice to everyone, but gets headshots every mission, gold every mission, and he stalks pedestrians at night. Don't worry, he stalks all genders of NPCs at night. He's also terrifyingly good at escaping the cops.

He had Puff Puff sing "Real Girl" for him because he's still too shy to sing a whole song by himself. He hasn't done that since "Jupiter."

In the world where Your Favorite Martian takes place, humans in the human world are presented as works of fiction. In our world, Your Favorite Martian is a cartoon band. In the world of Your Favorite, however, humans are works of fiction. We come in the form of movies, books, and other sources of media. Each person in the world is a work of fiction of some sort. With all that said, Benatar wrote "Real Girl" because of his "fictional" crush on a girl from a movie he watched. The movie was about the girl as the protagonist and her life as a young woman navigating the world of womanhood. Benatar made this song because he knew that the screen was a barrier separating two worlds, hence why he called her a "Real Girl" even though in his world, she is a fictional character.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 8/13/2024

i think i'm going to take a break from scifi written by men for a bit

listening

Ahmed Malek's Les Vacances de L'inspecteur Tahar, from the 1972 film of the same name.

if i can be really really real for a minute here the only thing i've listened to more than twice this week is GUESS by charli xcx but i don't want to have the same tuesdaysong twice in a row. this would make for an annoying end of year playlist.

i got an ad for a collected set of Ahmed Malek's Algerian jazz music on instagram. a session musician in Algiers, he made his name as a soundtrack composer with this comedic detective movie and was in demand for the rest of his life-- he's still really beloved in the African jazz scene, his works are super collectible, and his daughter gifted all his masters to a tiny record company so they could rerelease and preserve them.

it sounds exactly how you think a 70s cop movie should sound. impeccable example of the genre. instantly evocative. i wonder if it influenced the wider cop drama soundscape or if it's just an early example?

-

reading

many books disappointed me a great deal this week.

thank you philip.

the only comic i did like was Marauders (2019-2022), trying to get a little bit more into the xmen since my bestie has decided we're watching all their movies. this is really fun bc i knew who kitty pryde was, and she's a privateer captain who looks beat to shit the whole book. extremely fun and gay and swashbuckling, i placed holds for the other volumes already.

the two rogue and gambit books assumed i knew more about those characters than i already did, and had a heavy reliance on flashbacks and references to other issues.

the magic order was insufferable and did not stick its landing. made me worry about the characters and then feel really fucking stupid for worrying about the characters. i don't know why i keep trying mark millar books and thinking i will like them.

HOTELITOR had a very fun concept (mech hotel), but was a little more middle-grade than i was expecting, even from a teen book. very calarts visual style. very power of friendship will undo an evil corporation, which, i wish.

this little mermaid manga was not for me. and that's fine. most manga isn't for me.

we have to take a brief detour into how i store my books (poorly). these big middle shelves hold an unsorted mass, mostly of stuff i'm not sure i want to keep. i'm trying to be more thoughtful about which books i keep bc realistically i do not reread very often (if at all) and i am running out of space. as much as i love weird little scifi and fantasy paperbacks it would be cool if they all fit on one shelf.

here are four books i rapidly cycled through this weekend that are going to be donated.

Michael Moorcock's The Black Corridor, 1969, about a man slowly going insane in a spaceship fleeing a politically violent Earth with his friends and relations in cryosleep. not a very beloved Moorcock book among the Moorcock fans. this has a heavy focus on the rise of British fascism and i'm not now, nor will i ever be, in the mood for this. a shame bc this slim hardcover has proportions that were very nice to hold.

Thomas Burnett Swan's Where is the Bird of Fire?, 1970, three not quite short stories but not quite novellas about mythical creatures at the founding of Rome, Xerxes the Great's empire, and Britain near the fall of Rome. states very clearly exactly what it is on the tin and delivers it, unfortunately i don’t like any of the flavors on offer. every single one of these has the half-coy kind of sex scene common in historical fiction, where in order to represent the past accurately and with full verisimilitude we Must convey that they fucked nasty and had fun doing it. many times. unfortunately a middle aged man wrote these and our erotic sensibilities are Very far apart.

Glen Cook's Cold Copper Tears, 1988, a noirish urban fantasy. there are fourteen books in this series so clearly people like them. i found a lot of the Noir Similes a little tortured. "but kay isn't that the point--" yes but these annoyed me. also there's a rape joke i didn't enjoy on the fourth fucking page. i have very few hard outs in fiction and one of them is on-screen or on-page sexual assault or rape jokes in chapter one. i am slightly less likely to drop a book if it has rape jokes in chapters that are not the first but like. it’s still almost a flat line at 100%.

and the only one i got two-thirds of the way through, and which i partially liveblogged here,

Eric Kotani and John Maddox Robert's Between the Stars, 1988, the third in their Island Worlds series. it stands alone fairly well, which is impressive.

this book is good at differentiating a very large, very clannish cast, which is a hard thing to do in a political opera. people are often differentiated by little physical movement quirks, which a spy later uses to identify someone. it’s a lovely bit of business and definitely the authors’ strong points.

also props for two of the most capable people, an ill-liked matriarch/scientific genius and a femme fatale Russian, for being two of the most interesting characters with the most screen time, both on their own and in other character’s thoughts. unfortunately, with such a large cast and so many factions, the action is often split and meandering. racist in the very specific orientalist way cyberpunk eighties fiction often is, but uncommonly, they remembered Turkey existed and included in the orientalism?

severely suffered from a second act where it tripped over its own feet a lot instead of continued forward motion, quite honestly i got bored and tired of being hit over the head with various points. a very whedonesque quality of needing to comment on the political implication of something the instant after it happens.

this is not a subtle book, and it smacks less of an urgency to get a point across in as few words as possible and more an uncertainty in the authors of getting their point across at all. this is confusing to me bc this was their fourth book together and the third in this series. have some more confidence in your writing abilities. like, if you've already established your baddie as a fascist torturer who literally owns slaves and plans on taking over earth, you don't need to have him also say "Hitler was much-maligned" at a dinner party he's holding in a room full of hunting trophies where the only things on the table are red wine and whole game birds. you've more than established him as evil. the whole book is like this. it's exhausting.

not a book for me! many such cases!

-

watching

my brother was really singing the praises of vampire hunter d's animation and i was like, postapoc roaming vampire bounty hunter? say less! im already getting in!

i watched the 1980s version with some bemusement until he was like "why did you watch that and not the 2000 version." well that would have been so cool of you to be more specific, my boy!!! vampire hunter d (1985, dir. Toyoo Ashida) was still fun but clearly had way less of a budget than Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust (2000, dir. Yoshiaki Kawajiri)

i enjoyed bloodlust a little more bc it had a postapoc style i enjoyed a little more: showed me big manta rays that hide under the sand, big ruined radio dishes, and lots of beautifully ruined skyscrapers and fucked up highway overpasses. every time you see me post about a BIG!!! FUCKING!!! DISH!!! you should hear this schoolchildren "YAAAAAY!" sample from Jet Set Radio

-

playing

nothing much to report, a lot of grindy genshin impact shit as i try to clear all my map markers before the new nation drops at the end of the month.

-

making

the girls have three litter boxes available to them (laundry room/spare bathroom/utility closet), all in the correct and recommended locations, all with good sightlines and escape routes and all out of the main hustle and bustle of the apartment, all open top, all with the same kind of litter and the same kind of litter mat. they only use the one in my laundry room. since phil has had free roam of the house she has not used the one in the office bathroom. i asked my vet about this and sent her pictures to make sure i was doing everything right and the diagnosis was "yeah that's a little weird of them". can we spread the wear and tear out a little more, girls? so i don't have to deep clean the same litterbox every week?

[visit-ba-sing-se]

misread a prompt about being the last human on earth. still wrote a short story. enjoy.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth, and this is my report for June 28, 2070, day 456 of monitoring. General population: one. Changes since the last report: none. Maintenance work completed.

I save the file for today's report on my memory implant and shift my focus back to the monitor in front of me. A familiar black screen with a familiar white outline of the world map. One small red dot keeps blinking on it, in the middle of a region described as "European Union." If you were to zoom in, you would see that it is located in the middle of a town called Berlin, marked as the capital of a state called Germany.

Not that those things still mean anything anymore.

Zooming out again and seeing the empty map, it seems strange they ever did.

At the beginning back in 2069, there used to be 8.9 Billion red dots. One for every beating heart, monitored from above by space-link satellites. Now only mine remains.

I had singed up to monitor them quite early after the omega variant broke. After wasting years of my life on a - in face of the apocalypse utterly worthless - degree and an even more worthless PhD thesis, it felt like doing something real, and the task was simple: Monitor the development, stay in touch with the other stations all around the world and file a report for each shift.

At first, there were many of us, all in some way believing that we would help save humanity by observing trends and giving out warnings. Instead, we just became the chroniclers of it's decay.

Many didn't even fully witness the first month. The virus was cruel, but at least it took you fast.

You could leave your house feeling great in the morning, only to collapse coughing on the sidewalk before arriving at your bus stop. Or you could get up to make tea in the isolation of your own home, all doors closed and windows shut, and grasp for air on the kitchen floor minutes later. There was no cure, no vaccine, no distancing measure that helped. The virus cut through us like a scythe through a field of weeds, and it soon was more than clear that no amount monitoring would change that. Some volunteers quit. More died. But through a weird twist of fate, I stayed alive.

And I kept going to work, day after day after day, even after the government that had hired me stopped existing, the subway train I used to take became a fighting ground for rats and my shadow was the only one left to walk beside me in the once busy city streets.

And so did the others, who, when I called in "here Berlin, please respond" answered me with "here Warsaw" "here Seoul" "here Mexico-City" "here Tel Aviv". And the less we were, the more we talked. About our lives before. About the people we had loved and lost, about the places we had called home and the dreams we had dreamed, about our favourite books and movies and dishes, about god and fate and about which birds who saw outside their window.

Mostly, I think, it wasn't about what was spoken. It was about hearing another human voice, and the reassurance that you weren't alone that came with it.

And so, we were there to witness as one by one, more of the blinking red dots disappeared. Just like one by one, someone else among us started to cough. It was an unwritten, unspoken and yet unbreakable rule that none of the rest commented when it happened. Some decided to ignore it until their last moments. Most said goodbye. One of us, Alexey, fircely insisted the air in his office was simply too dry when he got the cough. Of course, we all wanted to believe that it was. But only minutes later, the transmission from his channel ended, and one of the at this point 5 remaining red dots in Kyiv vanished.

Like all of theirs did, eventually.

And yet.

"Here Berlin, please respond", I whisper. For the protocol. For the false, poisonous hope that there has been some kind of bug in the system and that someone might still answer. Of course, no one does.

And even though I expected it, the following silence crushes me once again. A lonely tear rolls down my cheek as I rip the headphones off. Just like the voices in them used to be the undeniable proof that I wasn't alone, the static in the channel now is the undeniable proof that I am.

To distract myself, I get up and open the window. It would be easy to jump onto the empty street and make a final exit like that. All things considered, it's a miracle I am still sane enough to not consider this opinion. Even though… probably at this point death would be the sane choice. But something in me still wants to keep going, wants to hold out for as long as I can. It might be irrational, but I feel like this is what I am owe them. All 8.9 Billion.

Unaffected by my dark thoughts and humanities decay, a small sparrow lands on the window stil. It must have flown over from the tree across the street, where a family of them has build their nest.

Diah would have loved to hear that their little ones are now learning to fly.

Diah. She was last one to leave, and the pain of loosing her still feels like a fresh wound. It had only been us for quite some time, and we had stopped logging out or even taking off our headphones. We even, of course disguised as jokes, had started planning how we could meet. We could find a still functional high-speed train and somehow make it work. We could both steal cars. We would just start walking towards each other and meet in the middle between New Delhi and Berlin.

But of course, we wouldn't. And when her time came, the virus didn't even give a warning. One moment, I was listening to her beautiful voice. The next, there was silence. And only one blinking dot left on the monitor. Maybe she didn't even notice that she died. Only I did. Like I noticed so many deaths before. Maybe that is the only advantage of my situation now. The only death I still will have to witness is my own.

Before I can sink deeper into my thoughts, suddenly, I see them. Or to be precise, actually, I hear them first. Voices. Human voices. "I still can't believe it's only been two years since we left," one of them says, "Just look at this mess. Good thing we got out of here early." "Right?!" the other one responds laughing. "And I thought the time on board was stressful, especially towards the end. But it's nothing against whatever the hell happened here."

Humans. Walking, talking, joking humans.

This can't be real. I rush to look at the monitor. Still only one lonely dot. I must have finally gone insane, not being able to stand the thought that I was last anymore. But when I lurk outside again, they are still there, and now close enough for me to recognize more details. Black uniforms with a silver star, black face masks and both carrying a PreciseWeapon. Space-link personal.

Days ago, Diah and I both saw what we had believed to be a small meteor. Instead, it must have been their shuttle entering the atmosphere. I am not insane. This makes sense. This is real. I know that probably should feel relief. Or happiness. Or pride. It surely would make sense to feel that way. After all, I just learned that humanity might still prevail despite everything.

This should be a triumph, or least salvation. And yet, all it feels like is betrayal. "Two years since we left" the man had said. Two years ago, the omega variant hadn't even been discovered. Or at least so I had thought.

'Thank God we got out of here early.'

They knew all along, soon and well enough to "get out early". If the earth had been a house on fire during the last years - as often depicted in political cartoons back when there were still people who drew such things and other who looked at it- they had always known the fire would come. But instead of warning the rest of us, they had snuk out of the house at night, watching it go up in flames from a safe distance. And now, where the dust had settled, they had come back to inspect the ruins and dig through the remains. Only that I was still here. A living dead, covered in ashes with burns on my skin. Still breathing, but surely not nice to look at. So why would they come to pick me up now?

Suddenly, the dominos cascade in line and I sink back into my chair as the realization hits me. They are space-link. The satellites are space-link. They don't show up on the monitor because they are not supposed to. And the PreciseWeapon is meant for me. I shiver. That's why Diah died so sudden and silent.

The virus didn't get her. They did, with one precise shot in the back.

For a moment, I consider running. But just a moment. They could easily track me, and I don't want to spent my last moments being dragged out of a hiding place, nor do I want a bullet in the back.

No.

I want them to look me in the eye. And I want them to know that I know.

I get up from my desk and turn away from the black monitor with the lonely red dot. The door swings open, and the black uniforms enter. They look just like you would think they'd look. Painfully ordinary, with faces reddened by excitement. For just a moment, I see a hint of surprise in their eyes. Then, the uniform on the right nods at the uniform on the left, who reaches for his weapon. If he feels any doubt, he is good at hiding it.

"Go ahead." I say. My voice is calm and firm. I can't say much, not in the short time it takes him to charge, aim and fire. But what I say, I mean. "I already died 8.9 billion times. One more won't matter."

I feel a numb pain as the projectile hits my chest, and then the edge of my table as I stumble backwards against it. And then, just before I hit the ground and my senses fade, I hear it. A cough. A familiar, dry cough. A cough I heard more times than I could count. And that is now coming from the direction of my shooter.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth. And this concludes my final report.

[bakawitch]

Fantasy au, where Prince Ryou is locked in a tower Rapunzel style. His father put him there to keep him safe from war/assailants or something among those lines. There's not all that much to do other than read the thousands of books in the tower's library, and one day, Ryou comes across a few books hidden under a dusty bookshelf. To his surprise, the books he found were all from the romance genre, something that he's never come across in the mostly science based library before.

He starts reading them and eventually becomes obsessed with the contents (probably due to the lack of human contact and interaction he's experienced in the tower). He starts fantasising about romantic stuff, like being stolen away from his prison by a dashing stranger or falling in love with a hunter who wandered too far away from the forest trail and sharing a forbidden romance with them. One day, his dreams come true in the most absurd way possible. A dragon lands on the roof of his tower and decides to make it its home. It sunbathes by the day and goes hunting at night. It seemingly doesn't really take notice of or care for Ryou, but Ryou still talks to him even if it's not really listening to him because at this point he's just grateful for the company the dragon's presence provides. Ryou playfully flirts with it on occasion, but he doesn’t think the dragon takes it seriously or anything.

The dragon occasionally lets Ryou climb up on the roof with it, while Ryou reads books out loud and experiments with how much touching it allows him to get away with. One day, Ryou decides to tie one of his fancy necklaces around one of the dragons horns as a thank you gift for being such good company, which in return to the dragon gives him a pretty crystallised scale.

After an unknown amount of time, Ryou's father finally arrives with escorts to bring his son out of the tower, but the dragon quickly sends them running, which Ryou is actually grateful for. Heroes and knights trying to rescue the Prince Ryou eventually start showing up at the tower, all of which either die, get chased away, or get too injured to continue fighting, all the while the dragon continues to keep Ryou safe and be a very good roommate (save for the loud snoring and the accidental puffs of fire through Ryou's windows).

Eventually, a famed beast tamer, Yugi, shows up who surprisingly recognises the dragon and tries to have a conversation with it. Surprisingly, the dragon ends up taking a more humanoid form and explains to Yugi that Ryou and him are spiritually bonded mates now. Being very knowledgeable about intelligent beasts and their costumes, Yugi agrees to try and explain things to the King, but that the dragon shouldn't expect anything good.

Ryou is a little upset, but mostly extatic that his dragon could talk the whole time and that they're basically married at that point. The dragon, now revealed to be a famous dragon who goes by Thief King Bakura, moves inside Ryou's tower part time, and they spend even more quality time bonding together and stuff (you know what I mean). One day, Yugi returns and warns Bakura that the king did not take the news of their elopement well and that he's sending a full-on army. Bakura and Ryou discuss things, and they decide that its better to just leave because Ryou doesn't really want his people dead at Bakura's hands, and Bakura has other places they could live at anyway. They fly off into the sunset and Bakura dumps Ryou in a big ass treasure pile for soft dialogue and fun times.

The end =)