#i have made a lot of choices in the last six years to protect my mental health specifically because of how that relationship ended

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU FINALE

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: BTS x fem reader

Word count: 1,096

Note: The final part is here! At the end, you’ll have 7 endings to choose from! You can pick your bias/biases or read them all! The choice is yours <3

You stepped back, your heart plummeting to your feet at the sight of him.

"Hoseok!" His name was uttered in shock.

The last thing you expected was to see him barging into Jin's castle, let alone by himself.

His burning gaze met yours and his eyes softened immediately.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for lashing out at you. I called off the guards not long after you ran off. It's just me here." He told you, taking a single step forward.

Jin wrapped his arms around you while the others moved to stand in front of you, creating a barrier to protect you. Hoseok frowned, a look of disappointment flashing across his features.

"Guys." You spoke softly. "It's okay."

The boys separated, albeit hesitantly, and you stepped out of Jin's embrace, slowly walking towards Hoseok. Your arms wrapped themselves around him, pulling the king into a tight hug.

"Y/n." He breathed out your name in a sigh of relief, his arms circling your waist.

"I forgive you, Hoseok." You whispered. "Though I should be the one apologizing to you. I left you after you opened up to me. I'm sorry for that."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about that. Everything is fine now. Come back to the castle with me, Y/n. You can be my queen."

"I can't." You frowned, pulling away. "Things need to be fixed between you and the others."

You glanced back towards Jin, gesturing for him to speak up.

He pressed his lips together, stepping forward. "Y/n and I had a conversation and she made me realize that I needed to do the right thing. I want to apologize to you, Hoseok—we all do. I personally have felt awful every day since you ran off. Truthfully, I should have apologized sooner, but I was being cowardly."

"We shouldn't have chose Jin over you." Namjoon stated.

"You were a lot of fun to be around. I miss it." Jimin spoke up.

"We're really sorry, Hoseok." Taehyung apologized, looking down at his feet shamefully. "We didn't mean to cast you out like that."

"Yeah and I don't blame you if you don't forgive us." Yoongi added. "We kinda deserve it."

Hoseok stood there, his unblinking eyes wide with shock.

"Hoseok?" Jungkook called out, tilting his head to the side as he waited for a response from the stunned man.

He blinked a few times, collecting his thoughts before finally speaking.

"I didn't expect this." His voice coming out so quietly you could barely hear him. "I accept your apologies, but it’s me who should be the one saying sorry. I suppose I had a little pity party and went about all this the wrong way." He slumped his shoulders.

"Everyone is at fault, Hoseok. We all messed up." Jin pointed out. "So, are we good?"

A gleaming and beautiful smile spread across Hoseok's face and we wasted no time running up and embracing all six boys in a hug.

"Y/n, come here!" Jimin motioned for you to join in on the group hug.

With that invitation, there was no way you could stand by. Rushing over, you latched onto the group hug, trying your best to stretch your arms around as many people as possible.

When you visited Wonderland all those years ago, Hoseok had already isolated himself from the others, so you never got to see all seven of them together. Despite that, this moment felt right.

"This probably wouldn't have happened if you didn't show up. We were all stuck in our ways and I don't think any of us would have stepped up and apologized." Namjoon stated after everyone parted ways. "Thank you."

"Yes. Thank you, Y/n." Hoseok smiled.

"So, what now?" Yoongi asked the question everyone in the group was thinking.

"Well," Jin began. "Y/n can either go home or stay here."

The thought of going home made your heart sink. You had met seven amazing people and experienced so many things in Wonderland that you didn't even want to go back home. Truthfully, there wasn't anything for you to go back to anyway, so what's the point of returning?

"I want to stay here." Your answer was certain.

Smiles spread across everyone's faces as soon as the response left your mouth.

"Well then, if you stay you have to choose one of us to be with." Yoongi stated.

"I have to?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Jin mentioned.

You still hadn't wrapped your mind around the fact that there were seven guys who all wanted to be with you. It was all so much and, while it was flattering, it was also overwhelming. However, one of them did manage to charm you.

"I want to choose one of you." You nodded. "I just don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or disappoint anyone."

"We'll be fine." Jungkook assured you.

"No matter who you pick, we'll understand." Hoseok smiled.

"Where will I live? I know Jin and Hoseok have castles and Namjoon told me he has a home, but what about the rest of you?"

"We have houses, you know." Yoongi feigned offense. 

"I have a little cottage." Jungkook grinned.

"I have a tiny house." Jimin added.

"What about that mysterious twin of yours who's never around?" Your brows tugged together.

"You think we live together?" He scoffed. "Not a chance."

"We all have our own places." Namjoon said.

"Well, my place is a little shabby-looking, but it's okay. Y/n, if you choose me we can spruce it up and make it look real nice!" Taehyung gleamed.

You glanced over the group who were all unique in their own way.

Jungkook, though shy at first, was actually rather bold and quite captivating.

Jimin was downright adorable but not to be underestimated. He had a flirtatious and charming side to him that was irresistible.

Yoongi was a sweet talker and had no shame in anything he did, but you knew he had a soft side.

Taehyung was a goofy person who didn't seem to care what others thought of him and his weird ways.

Namjoon was another smooth talker and very intelligent. Though he was a bit rude at first, you knew that wasn't his true personality.

Hoseok was happy-go-lucky and reminded you of the sun.

Jin was romantic and kind—a true gentleman. Not to mention he's incredibly good-looking. They all were.

Every single one of them were amazing and beyond perfect, but your heart seemed to be pulled towards one of them in particular.

Time to make your decision ➯ Jungkook ♤ Jimin ♡ Yoongi ♧ Taehyung ♢ Namjoon ♡ Hoseok ♧ Jin

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz

[jennaispunk]

A Symptom of Being Human

Summary: An unlikely connection forms between Joel and a new resident of Jackson. (sorry I suck at summaries)

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: T

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC (Maggie)

Warnings: fluff, slight age gap (Joel is 50ish, OFC is 40ish), grief, loss of spouse, loss of child, panic attacks, mild violence, allusions to SA but no specific details, possible friends to something more, soft!Joel, please let me know if I forgot anything.

Notes: This fic was inspired by 'A Symptom of Being Human' by Shinedown. When I first heard this song, the idea for this story immediately popped into my head. This could become a series if it doesn't flop.

Thank you @fallingforthearch for being my #1 fan and my biggest supporter. I would have never had the courage to put my writing out there without you.

dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Brian promised they’d be safe. They were traveling in a group, not going far. Maggie begged him to stay at the settlement, but the promise of something better for Aiden had made her relent.

The sounds of Brian’s screams still rang in her ears. The ground scattered with the lifeless bodies of their traveling companions; husbands, wives, and children, all just wanting something a little better from this existence.

Her furious struggles elicited laughs from her captors.

“She’s a feisty one, Ty. Gonna be a lot of fun breakin’ ‘er down.”

The smell of his rotten breath filled her nostrils, and she choked back the bile in her throat. His grimy hand slid up her side, roughly groping her breast.

The one called Ty looked over at her as he stood over the limp body of her husband. His steely blue eyes pierced through her, and she froze, her blood running cold.

“Please,” she sobbed. “I’ll do whatever you want; just give me back my son.”

Ty slowly sauntered over to her, tilting her chin so she had to meet his gaze. The cruelty in his eyes betrayed the tenderness of his touch.

“Shhh…” His dirty thumb wiped the tears from her cheek, leaving a streak of dirt in its wake. “You’ll do whatever I want, anyway. You don’t got a choice, darlin’.”

Aiden screamed, struggling in vain against the arms that held him. Her heart shattered at the sight of his tear stained face.

“Please, he’s just a boy.” She begged. “He won’t be any trouble for you, I swear.”

Ty clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly.

“That boy’s got fight in him, like his daddy.” He drawled. “Only a matter a time ‘fore he tries somethin’ ta save his pretty little mama. Can’t have that.”

A wicked smile formed on his thin lips. “B’sides…he’d be just another mouth ta feed.”

Ty nodded to his companion restraining Aiden.

“No!” She knew what that meant. She kicked and screamed wildly, her shoulder joints aching as she struggled to get to the only thing that mattered. She couldn’t let them harm him. She had to protect him at all costs; it was her job. A sharp backhand to her face caused her head to spin.

She watched helplessly through blurry eyes as a shot rang out, and her son…her baby, crumpled to the ground. Her screams filled the air as she thrashed and spit at her captors. Her entire world was lying on the ground in front of her. She wanted them to kill her, too; she had nothing left.

The last thing she remembered was the blinding pain as the butt of a handgun connected with her temple.

Maggie’s eyes shot open, shooting upright in her bed. Her chest heaved, the sound of that gunshot still rang in her head as if it had just happened moments ago and not over a year ago. Her eyes darted to the small clock on the bedside stand… 5:06 AM. She squeezed her eyes closed; the chance of going back to sleep was lost.

Six hours of uninterrupted sleep- that had to be a record. It had been ages since she slept that long without waking. She rolled herself out of bed, peeling her sweat soaked t-shirt from her body as she padded toward the bathroom. The worn hardwood floor creaked, announcing to the empty house that she was awake.

She turned the faucet to the hottest setting and stepped under the water. Closing her eyes, she let the scorching water beat down upon her. She hoped it would wash away her memories, but she knew better.

The sun was just coming over the horizon as she approached the dining hall doors. She made this trip every day for the last three months, and it hadn’t gotten easier. She took a few deep breaths in front of the faded double doors, her mask firmly in place, a friendly smile that told the world she was okay. Some of her neighbors knew her story…at least the parts she shared with Tommy and Eugene when they found her in the woods, but she never shared the full story with anyone. Speaking the words aloud would make it all too real, and she didn’t want any pity.

The clanking of dishes and silverware filled the dining hall, along with the low hum of conversation. Smiling at her neighbors, she made her way through the hall to grab some food and some much needed coffee. She always sat alone, needing the time to collect her thoughts and prepare for the day. A familiar figure appeared in her periphery; he sat alone, too….always alone. He had a story, too. Tommy had said as much when she first arrived in Jackson, but he didn’t elaborate. She noticed the way he glanced at her from time to time, but he never spoke. Her step faltered slightly as if she was going to break the ice, but she kept moving past him.

Joel watched her as she walked past, taking the same seat by the window every morning. He saw how she smiled at everyone and pretended to be okay, but he knew she wasn’t. He knew that look in her eye…. he’d seen it in his own so many times. The look of loss…of heartbreak and misery. She’d lost something, too. She may think no one noticed…but he did. He wanted to say something to her….anything to let her know he understood, but the words stuck in his throat. He’d never been good at letting people in.

The air in the barn was surprisingly stuffy for this time of year, and the earthy smell of dirt and hay surrounded her. Despite the stuffiness, she found solace in the scents and sounds of the barn. It brought her peace; she could focus here. She didn’t have to be anything… didn’t have to be happy or smile. The animals understood.

Willow, the chestnut mare, blustered and pranced restlessly around her stall. Maggie brushed a stray lock of her long hair off her damp forehead and reached out to pat Willow’s shoulder over the stall door.

“I know, mama.” She cooed. “The last few days are the hardest, but once you see that little baby you made, it’ll all be worth it.”

She remembered how it felt when she was pregnant with Aiden. How those last few days were uncomfortable, and she struggled to sleep. The mare nudged her hand in silent commiseration. Maggie smiled at her and rubbed Willow’s nose.

“I’ll be here with you when it’s time…make sure you and the baby are alright.”

Joel watched silently as she spoke to the mare. She was so different here…much different than when she was in the dining hall or slinging drinks at the Tipsy Bison. He wondered if she ever slept. It seemed like she had her hands in everything here in Jackson…tending the garden and the animals and bartending at night. He understood the need to keep busy, to drown out the pain and the failure.

The longer he watched, the more guilty he felt. He shouldn’t be intruding like this, watching her like some creep. He backed away slowly, not wanting to interrupt her private moment. The heel of his work boot connected with a bucket, and the clank reverberated through the barn.

Her eyes snapped up, focusing on Joel. How long had he been there? What had he heard?

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping.

“Sorry…I…didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I’m usually not this jumpy.”

She was lying through her teeth, hoping he couldn’t tell. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hardly hear him speak.

Joel smiled sheepishly. He knew how badly he scared her and felt terrible for it. He cleared his throat and took a small step forward. Maybe this was his chance to connect with someone again.

“It’s Maggie, right?” He asked. “I’m-“

“I know who you are.” She winced at the sharpness of her tone.

“Right.” He sighed a little too loudly and dragged a hand through his peppered hair. He cursed himself for being so stupid; of course she knew he was. His brother was just about the only person she had a conversation with that lasted more than a few minutes.

“Is everything alright with the mare?”

He was desperate to change the subject, to get the conversation back on track.

“Willow? No, she’s fine. I was just checking in on her.” Her hand dropped to her lower abdomen, instinctively covering her womb, her eyes tender. “The last few days before giving birth can be pretty uncomfortable.”

Joel’s eyebrow twitched. She’d lost a child, too. He knew that agony all too well. The unbelievable pain and darkness that engulfs you, pulling you down into a pit of emptiness that leaves you with nothing but a gaping hole where your heart should be.

Her face went slack. She’d always been so careful about keeping details of her past close to her vest. She didn’t want pity; she just wanted to feel normal.  

Joel’s eyes softened as they stared at each other, an unspoken conversation between two people with the worst thing in common.

Even twenty-plus years later, it still hurt. It hurt to think about what Sarah would have grown up to be if she’d had the chance, if it hadn’t been stolen from her…if he wouldn’t have failed her. Those moments that she would never have played in his mind… her first day of college… her wedding day… the birth of her first child, his grandchild—his hands clenched into fists as his eyes misted.

He’d never had anyone to share that pain with, not even Tommy. Maria had lost a child, too, but there was no chance of the two of them talking about it; she wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, even after all this time.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. The fear of taking that first step kept them from escaping. 

“Come on, Joel. We gotta go, Eugene’s waitin’ on us.”

Tommy’s voice echoed through the barn. Joel and Maggie averted their gazes from each other. His hand flew to the back of his neck, while she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

Tommy’s eyebrows raised and he chuckled under his breath.

“Hey, Sparky.” He drawled, his Texas accent more pronounced than usual. “You’re comin’ to the Spring Fling picnic, right?”

Maggie cleared her throat, forcing herself to smile as her heart hammered in her chest. They had been so close to something… something she’d wanted for so long but had been afraid to let herself wish for… understanding. Had she found a kindred spirit in Joel? She saw it in his eyes; he understood. He knew her pain because he felt it, too.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. I know Maria’ll be real happy to have ya there.” Tommy smiled and clapped Joel on the shoulder before turning and heading out of the barn.

Joel shoved his hands in his pockets. The toe of his boot scuffed the ground before he looked up at her once more. He desperately wanted to say something… anything, but his words evaded him—a grown-ass man, tongue-tied like some goddamn teenage boy. The corner of his mouth twitched into a sheepish smile. He turned on his heel and walked away without looking back.

The chaos of the picnic made things seem almost normal: the sounds of children laughing and playing, the smell of burgers on the grill, and the warmth of the sun on her skin. It all made it easier to pretend that she was okay.

Joel sat silently across from her on the picnic table while Maria, bouncing her toddler on her lap, chatted about the upcoming improvements the council was making to the town.

A blood-curdling scream broke through the din, and everyone scrambled to their feet. She didn’t think; she instinctively ran with the group. She covered her mouth as she saw a little boy lying on the ground, bloodied, and screaming for his mother.

Maggie’s chest heaved, struggling to get air into her lungs. Her heart pounded like it was going to explode out of her chest. The edges of her vision went black as she was immediately pulled back in time. That little boy's voice was Aiden’s… the blood was Aiden’s. She was back in that field, seeing her little boy on the ground dying before her eyes, and she was powerless to stop it once again. She squeezed her eyes closed, clutching her chest as she leaned back against the brick wall.

Joel caught her movements out of the corner of his eye as the chaos swirled around them. He knew what was happening and was at her side in moments.

“Hey.” He gently took her by the elbow. “Just breathe, okay? In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

He’d been through this himself; he knew exactly what she felt.

Each breath felt like lava had been poured down her throat. A burning concoction seeping into her lungs making each breath more difficult than the last. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks as her muscles clenched keeping her frozen in this hell, not that she could escape it if she tried.

“That’s it, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice was calm and soothing. He could feel her spiraling, and he grabbed her cheeks. “You’re alright. Just focus on me. Look at me.”

She forced her eyes to open to see his soft and tender chocolate brown eyes in front of her, a warm, reassuring smile on his face. His words echoed in her ears. ‘Focus on me. Look at me.’ Her eyes traced the lines of his face. The scent of pine and canvas filled her nostrils, a scent she would forever associate with him.

“I’ve got you. You’re in Jackson…you’re safe.”

Reality slowly settled in. Her chest began to loosen, each breath a little less torturous than the last. The images in her mind slowly dissolved to reveal the tangible world, the feel of his hands on her face, the gentle breeze fluttering the streamers on the picnic tables.

“Good girl…just keep breathin’.”

His large hands cupped her cheeks as his calloused thumb brushed her soft cheek absentmindedly.

“Feeling better?”

Maggie nodded slowly, letting out a shaky breath. She’d never had a panic attack so intense before. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and then opened again.

“Thanks.” A bashful smile teased at her lips. “How?...”

“Happened to me before, too.” He chuckled softly, scratching at the salt and pepper scruff on his cheek. “But that’s a story for another time.”

He knew he could share that story with her one day; she would understand. There was a long-forgotten feeling in his chest. He wanted to connect with someone for the first time in a very long time.  

Her body went slack against the brick wall; her muscles tingled from the exertion. The nervous and excited chatter of everyone around her filled her ears.

“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. Would it be alright if I walked you home?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He wrapped a protective arm around her, guiding her away from the picnic. She sank into his warmth, her head cradled perfectly into his shoulder. She never thought Joel Miller would be the one she connected with. This might be an unlikely friendship, born of mutual hurt and pain, but it felt right. She wouldn’t ask him for his story now; she would be patient. For now, she would be content with this.

[venusswhite]

Above the Ruins | Six

Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

masterlist

In a world devastated by chaos and the threat of the undead, two destinies intertwine in an unexpected way. Ghost, a hardened ex-military man haunted by the horrors of war, encounters [reader], a lost and desolate young woman. With his experience and determination, Ghost decides to help her, and together they embark on a dangerous journey in search of a refugee center.

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Five - Seven

"We're at Alcântara Base…"

I heard a voice coming from the communication radio Soap had brought along with him, accompanied by the two men who seemed like kids who had just received the best gift of their lives…

"Is it just you two?"

"No. Ghost has a girl" Soap says, smiling as he looks at Ghost.

"That's great, guys! If possible, I'd like to speak with her…"

Descending the rest of the stairs, I approach the radio.

"Sir?"

"Please, no formalities… What's your name?"

"[name]"

"Alright. [name], you're with two of my best soldiers. I want you to trust them and yourself. The way here is compromised… lots of undead roaming around, but we're managing to keep the survivors safe."

"Are there many survivors?" Soap asks.

"About 2,000 here, but more keep coming. We're getting a higher number than expected. We're also in contact with other shelters and the numbers are looking good. I'm hopeful."

"That's great, Captain" Ghost compliments.

For the first time in years, I felt hopeful. Just a bit more and we'd be closer to some semblance of the life we had before.

I looked at Ghost, smiling in relief, and he seemed to reciprocate through his eyes.

✧˖°₊

"According to Price, the best route is through here," Ghost points to a spot on the map.

"Do we have enough ammunition?" Soap asks.

"I hope so�� we don't have much choice. We have food, weapons, and water. We'll leave in two days. Rest as much as you can!" he orders.

I sat on a couch farther away, feeling useless at these times.

"What are you thinking?" Ghost approaches, asking as Soap heads upstairs to shower.

"To be honest, I'm scared and hopeful. It's hard to explain."

"I understand. It's been years of loneliness and confusion, hasn't it? And now it seems like everything is falling into place and that everything will be resolved," he says as I nestle into his chest, listening to his heartbeat and smelling his scent.

"I'm afraid of not making it to the shelter, of not being useful on the way, and putting us in danger."

"[name], don't worry so much. You were trained by the best, remember?" I feel his chest move with what sounds like a laugh.

"Smartass."

"But I'm serious. We'll make it, you'll see. Soap is a great soldier too, we'll protect you and help you if we think it's too much for you. But you were really good in training, you'll be a great help, you'll see."

"I hope so…" I sigh, snuggling even closer to his warmth.

After a while, we returned to the room, and Ghost went to shower. He returned without his mask and with wet hair.

He was arranging some things in the closet while I sat on the bed, admiring him. Ghost had a very masculine appearance. Sharp jawline, straight nose, and mouth with some scars. Not to romanticize what he went through, but they made him even more handsome.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"You're handsome."

"Do you think so?" he asked, laughing and lying down on top of me.

"Yes, I do," I laugh, kissing him.

"We'll get through this. You'll see," he said, giving me one last kiss and then pulling me into his embrace.

✧˖°₊

[Ghost]

I wake up and go downstairs to find Soap.

"Good morning, LT!"

"Good morning, Sergeant!"

"Is the girl still asleep?"

"Yes. She's worried, and to be honest, so am I."

Ghost rubs his hand on his covered face and sits down.

"I don't know what to do, Jhonny."

"Did you teach her how to shoot?" Soap asks, sitting next to the lieutenant while offering him soup.

"No. I didn't have many bullets."

"Look, I have an airsoft gun. I think I can teach her with it if you allow me. Of course," he chuckles sarcastically.

"Sure, Jhonny. You have my permission," Ghost says, laughing.

"I'll respect you and your girl, LT. Don't worry."

"I never expected anything less from you, Sergeant," Ghost said, joining in the banter. "Why do you have a toy gun?"

"I thought it might come in handy at some point. I was right," he said, laughing and grabbing the gun.

✧˖°₊

"It's not hard, miss. Just aim a bit higher than what you want…"

Then [name] shoots with the toy gun.

"Why isn't it hitting the target? I don't understand," I hear [name] say, and I laugh at her impatience.

"You're not keeping your hand steady. When you shoot, your hand moves out of position and misses the target. Keep your hand steadier."

"I see…" then she shoots again, closer to the target this time.

"Good job, miss!" Soap praises her as they high-five. "Now try shooting farther. This gun is a toy, but it simulates a real one quite well. Don't worry, it won't be much different."

Then she shoots and hits one of the cups farther away on the table, letting out an excited squeal.

"Did you see that, Ghost?" she asks, looking at me.

"You're doing great, pretty girl," I compliment, making her smile even bigger.

After a few shots, her aim was even better.

"I think you're ready, miss."

"Thank you for helping me, Soap. It means a lot to me," she says, giving Soap a friendly hug.

"No need to thank me, [name]," he says, returning the hug.

"Now, both of you need to rest. We'll leave the day after tomorrow, don't forget!" I interrupt, handing them the soup I heated while they were busy.

"Thank you, Ghost," Madison thanks, and Soap gives a thumbs-up, already devouring his food.

"I'll leave one of my guns with you, [name]. Only use it as a last resort. Let's try to use knives first," I say, making both of them nod.

"So, is the shelter far?" [name] asks, taking a generous spoonful of soup.

"About 5 days on foot, but it might take us longer. We'll find out…"

"Wouldn't it be better by car?" she asks.

"No doubt, but it's too risky to find a car around here."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Let's try not to dwell on the problems, guys," Jhonny interrupts. "Let's try to be… positive? Yeah, I think that's the word," he says thoughtfully, running his hand through his tousled hair. "I have a story to tell you, miss."

"Go ahead," she says, smiling.

"Well. Before all this craziness started, when we were still living our fucked-up lives, but not as fucked up as now," he says, making us laugh, "we liked to go to a bar after difficult missions. It was good for distraction. Our big guy here would attract the attention of pretty girls."

Jhonny spoke, laughing, and [nome] narrowed her eyes at me, making me laugh.

"Once, a tall brunette came over to try to get a piece of our LT, and he just stared at her. It was scary, and the poor girl was getting more embarrassed by the minute," he laughed loudly. "She looked around, scratched her neck, and Ghost looked at her as if he were seeing all her sins."

"It wasn't like that," I tried to defend myself.

"Of course it was, LT. I bet the girl never approached anyone after that," he continued laughing.

I looked at [nome], and she was laughing uncontrollably, twisting in a strange way. It was good to see them more at ease and with less worry.

"I just didn't want anything with her…"

"That's why you looked into that woman's soul?" Jhonny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Then I'm special, Lieutenant," [nome] calling me by that name did things to me.

"You are. Believe me, miss. Who would've thought we'd need a damn zombie apocalypse for our old Ghost to find someone. Destiny is indeed strange."

"Shut up, Jhonny," I said, making them laugh.

"And you, miss? Tell us something about your life."

"Let me think… I was studying nursing when this happened. I was going into my second year."

"Wow. So you were very young when this happened, how old are you now?"

"I'm 23. I was 19 when it all started. Unfortunately, college didn't help me survive here, since I hadn't learned procedures yet."

"Do you plan to return to nursing when things get back to normal? Or at least close to normal?"

"Yes. Now, more than ever. All of this taught me that anything can happen, and we need to be prepared for everything."

✧˖°₊

[One day until the journey to the shelter]

We would leave tomorrow. Things were already packed. Spare clothes in [nome]'s backpack; extra weapons and ammunition with Jhonny; food, water, blankets, and first aid items with me. Each of us also had a silenced gun and ammunition.

It was already night, and we were all ready. We rested on the couches while going over the plans.

"We'll go this way," I pointed on the map. "Price said it's the best. We'll go in a line, me first, [nome] next, and Soap following."

"Okay," they nodded.

"We'll walk as far as possible and then take turns to stand guard while the others sleep. I'll take my turn and [nome]'s."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"It's safer this way."

"Ghost, I want to help too. I don't want to sleep while you two keep watch."

"Jhonny and I will take turns. We're used to getting by with little sleep. It'll be better this way."

"I want to be useful and help too, but it seems like you're taking everything away from me. When a damn zombie shows up, will you shoot for me too?"

"Ghost, the girl can take care of herself. Give her a chance," Soap interrupted me before I could retort what [nome] said, making me shoot him a glare.

"Alright, but I don't like this idea."

"I understand, Lieutenant. But the bird won't learn to fly if you don't give it freedom. Nothing will happen to her. As the captain said, she's not only with two of the best soldiers, but she's also trained by them," Soap said arrogantly, making us exchange fist bumps.

"Sure," I said sarcastically, watching [nome] thank them and both of them fist-bumping.

[pan-de-queer]

x marks the spot (where i left my heart) [supercorp]

Genre: Fluff, First Kiss, Getting Together

Summary:

Because of Lena, Kara’s learned that permanence is tangible. Real. Permanence feels soft and cool and callous on the tips of her thumbs. Permanence is gentle and purposeful and trembles when she kisses its forehead. Permanence runs slender fingers through her hair and whispers sarcastic commentary in her ear. Permanence feels a lot like love.

Or: Lena uses her riches for gay good, Kara uses her words, and everyone gets a hug and kiss.

Author's Note: finally finished the day 3 prompt for my "100 ways to say i love you" series for supercorp! prompt is "no, no, it's my treat." lmk what y'all thouggghhttt

ao3

x marks the spot (where i left my heart)

Kara had never realized how often Lena did it until Alex had pointed it out one day.

They were all hanging out at the alien bar one Friday night when a plate of cheese-covered fries was placed right in front of her. Kara had looked up at the waitress with a crinkle between her brows but before she could even ask, the waitress gave her a knowing smile. “Your lady over there told me you’ll need double of that tonight.”

The waitress left her with a steaming plate of fries that she reflexively protected from Nia’s thieving grasp despite the crinkle never easing. Kara craned her neck and easily found her supposed benefactor leaning casually against the bar counter waiting for their drinks.

It wasn’t the first time Lena had ever ordered food for her, but it always left a warm feeling in Kara’s stomach to know that Lena knew her so well.

Lena could rattle off every single one of her favorite food orders by heart now—from the extra cheese and bacon in her burgers at Big Belly to the drop of chili oil and quarter lemon squeezed into her soy sauce for her potstickers to the extra pepper sprinkled on to her morning eggs.

There was something intimate and vulnerable about someone knowing her so well that they know the way she likes to eat her food, knows what Kara needs before she (or her stomach)’s even said it, knows what’ll cheer her up or get her to calm down, knows how to convince her to eat healthy even if she doesn’t really need it. Something intimate about the way Lena knows her—in all the ways Kara’s learned to know Lena as well.

She knows that Lena loves only the simplest of sauces to go with her salads. She knows Lena hates salmon in almost the same way Kara hates kale (and most green veggies) but is way too polite to ever complain about it if left with no other meal choice (unlike Kara, who may or may not have faked a Supergirl emergency to escape such a fate or five). Knows that Lena likes her coffee black but likes a splash of milk in her tea (Lena says it’s different when it’s tea but Kara’s not quite convinced). Knows that Lena forgets to eat when she’s stressed out with work and projects, or when she’s sad and has more alcohol than blood running through her veins, or when she’s angry and works more on trying to fix the solution than on feeding herself, or when she’s overly excited and she forg—

Okay, so Lena’s dietary habits definitely need to be improved, but the point is—

Kara and Lena have known each other for almost six years now, and in that time, they’ve both made the effort to learn the little and big things about each other. Despite the secrets and heartbreak and hurt, despite the stilted conversations and painful rebuilding, despite the uncertainty and shy hope, somehow, some way, they’d managed to keep the things they knew about each other safe. Treasured. Sacred.

“What are you smiling at?” Nia’s voice broke through her thoughts, smug and knowing and smirk-y.

Kara could only elbow her away (because she wasn’t staring at Lena, she was just making sure the bartender remembered all their drinks) just as the last drink was placed on Lena’s tray. She shot Nia a quick, half-hearted glare before quickly turning back to her fries and eating.

Not to hide the blooming heat on her cheeks or anything, obviously. Her fries were just getting cold.

Cheers erupted from their friends when Lena arrived, a flurry of hands moving to pass each other their respective glasses and bottles. Kara watched the quick grabs for barely a minute before Lena placed the almost-empty tray in front of her fries, everyone having left their drinks alone.

“Enjoying the appetizer, darling?” Lena asked as Kara pulled out the empty chair right next to her. With chipmunk-cheeks puffing up her face, Kara nodded happily as she swallowed the greasy saltiness down, wiping her hands on her pants as she reached for her pocket.

“It’s great! Let me pay you back; how much did it cost?” Kara pulled her wallet out of her pocket, but before she could even open it, cold pale hands closed over hers as Lena chuckled and shook her head, “It’s my treat, darling.”

Kara whined half-heartedly, “It’s always your treat!” 

“Well, I’ve always been a billionaire since I met you.” Lena laughed, her cheeky smirk making Kara blush. “It’s only fair considering the number of times you’ve saved me.”

“That’s not even remotely the same!”

“Was it not you that said the way to your good graces was through your stomach?”

“I said the way to my heart was through good food. Besides, you’re always in my good graces.” And you’ve been in my heart since the day we met, Kara’s traitorous brain piped up, blue eyes determinedly keeping away from the mind-reading Martian on the other side of the table (most times, Kara felt like J’onn could still read her thoughts despite her Kryptonian genes). Thankfully, Lena’s warm laughter kept her occupied.

“Touching, darling, but just accept the fries.”

Kara pouted in reply, stuffing a handful of fries into her mouth petulantly as Lena hummed in non-apology.

It was nice.

Being the sole focus of Lena’s attention was really, really nice.

As the night got darker and the day got later, the Superfriends started bowing out one by one, promising to see each other the following week on game night. Soon enough, it’s just Kara, Lena, Alex, and Kelly.

“Take care, you two,” Kelly gave them each a hug, Kelly giving Lena another squeeze of a hug before she stepped out to inform the babysitter that she and Alex were on their way back.

It was Alex’s turn right after, her sister pulling them both in a hug before making Kara promise to make it to sister night this coming week. As the pair watched Alex disappear out the door, Lena nudged Kara’s shoulder with her own. She tried not to shiver at the way long, cold fingers slid down her forearm, tracing the lines of her palm before Kara tangled their fingers together and Lena replied with a gentle squeeze (and Kara’s always amazed at how Lena is always so, so gentle with her. Sometimes Kara wonders if she forgets that she’s Supergirl. Most times, she’s thankful for it).

“Let’s go home?” Lena asked, head tilted as if Kara had any other answer.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

-

All that had happened a week ago. Now, it’s Sister’s Night and Alex is demanding they watch a thriller movie since Kara had missed last week’s sister night to spend time with Lena (no regrets). Kara vehemently argues the psychological repercussions of making her watch a thriller but Alex isn’t having it. She’s stuffed the remote into her bra before diving face first into the couch, clutching it for dear life despite the fact that Kara can easily pry her off of it.

In the end, Kara gives in after only a couple more protests and a complaint-filled text to her best friend.

Thankfully, after Kara had texted Lena her Sister Night woes, Lena sends five orders of potstickers and two boxes of pizza to get her through the film. As soon as the orders arrive, she grabs the food and places everything on the counter, too busy checking each delivery to realize that she’s minutes away from getting grilled (or lovingly questioned, according to Alex).

Her Alex-senses are dulled at the sight of printed writing stuck on slips of paper taped to each order. The potstickers’ note reads “good luck, hero x” and the pizza’s “as always, these are both my treat xo.”

Kara folds the notes up with a pleased little grin, pocketing each paper before pulling out plates and glasses for their movie night dinner. She doesn’t notice how quiet Alex is as her older sister helps transfer the food onto the coffee table.

Kara’s already four pizza slices and twelve potstickers in when Alex finally tries to ask her anything.

Alex’s words come out slow and careful. “It was very generous of Lena to send over all this food.”

Her eyes narrow at the tone, suspicious of the questions hidden under the statement. “…Yes? She’s always generous.”

“I noticed,” Alex’s voice is wry, smile just as dry as she places her second slice of pizza down on her plate.

Kara feels that prickle of defensiveness start to bubble up at Alex’s pointed reply, but her sister continues before she can butt in. “But she’s always been a little more generous with you.”

“We’re best friends! Best friends can give each other gifts whenever they want to.”

“Really? ‘Cause my best friend’s never bought out half a restaurant for me.”

“This is far from half a restaurant, Alex.”

“I was talking about that time she rented out Uncle Chen’s for the night because you were finally feeling better about the whole Mon-El thing.”

She huffs, potstickers no longer as appetizing as when they started. “So? Lena likes doing nice things for her friends!”

“I don’t recall Lena buying out Big Belly for me, or buying Winn that fancy new tech toy they’d been geeking out about together, or getting Kelly that new sundress they’d seen at the mall. I’m not saying she wouldn’t if we asked, but Kara, you never have to ask for her to give you things. She just does.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“The opposite, actually. You mean something to her, Kara. And I’m pretty sure she means something to you, too.”

Kara’s mouth flounders, the words on the tip of her tongue too far out of reach. “She’s…”

Her friend.

Her best friend.

Her favorite.

Her rock.

Her hero.

Her—

“Everything.” Kara finds herself settling on the word that still doesn’t feel enough.

Being in love with Lena isn’t new, she knows, but saying it out loud definitely is. Saying it out loud feels like daring Rao to take Lena from her just like he took Krypton. Saying it out loud feels like begging for a miracle as your entire world collapses before your eyes. Saying it out loud feels like begging for air after being stuck in a timeless piece of space for twenty four years.

Saying it out loud feels like a prayer.

Like a promise.

Like it’s permanent.

It’s such a strange thing to feel. Ever since she’s arrived on Earth, Kara’s had a little timer ticking in the back of her mind. She’s lost Kyrpton, she’s lost her role as her cousin’s protector, she’s lost Astra, Adam, Jeremiah, Mon-El—some days she feels like she’s waiting for everything else to slip away, too.

Permanence has always felt like the tide, impossible to catch but easy to watch. Easy to stare at in longing as it laps at one's toes only to pull away again and again and again.

Alex and Eliza have made it easier to touch—easier to feel a lick of permanence wash over her every time they cuddle up for Danvers’ (sister’s) night or pick up her calls. Her new family’s made it all a little easier, too. Knowing that Winn and James and J’onn and Lucy and Kelly and Esme and M’Gann were all there to support her, cheer her on, and just be there has helped to ease the weight in her chest over the past few years.

And Lena.

Lena’s probably made it the easiest for her to imagine—to hope.

To hope that maybe permanence was unlimited access to a CEO’s office only weeks after meeting, or gala invites with potstickers on the menu despite the michelin star service, or wanting to stay to talk things through when you disagree on things (and being able to see their side, too), or being someone’s hero outside of her suit, or risking your secret identity when you think their life’s in danger, or realizing that you’re jealous of their ex, or them choosing you and you choosing them. Over and over and over again.

Because of Lena, Kara’s learned that permanence is tangible. Real.

Permanence feels soft and cool and callous on the tips of her thumbs. Permanence is gentle and purposeful and trembles when she kisses its forehead. Permanence runs slender fingers through her hair and whispers sarcastic commentary in her ear. Permanence says it hates dancing but dances with her anyways. Permanence forgets to eat sometimes but always makes time to have lunch with her.

Permanence texts her good morning and sweet dreams every single day. Permanence holds her close and cries when she cries. Permanence makes mistakes and apologizes and does its best to be better. Permanence makes her laugh and smile and feel light and floaty.

Permanence feels a lot like love.

Permanence acts a lot like Lena.

“Alex,” Kara breathes as if the air’s been knocked out of her. This isn’t new. It isn’t. And yet.

And yet.

“I love her.”

It’s different.

“I’m in love with her.”

Alex lets her head fall on to her shoulder as Kara reels with the weight of the words on her tongue for the first time in her life. It isn’t new. Her love. But the taste of it on her tongue is like potstickers after a crappy day. Heaven-sent. Galaxy-bending. Everything.

Alex pulls her close as a shaky breath leaves her lips. She can feel her sister drop a kiss on her head before murmuring, “Then maybe it’s time you let her know that.”

-

Kara decides to tell Lena that Friday.

She asks J’onn (and Alex) for that day off and they gladly tell her not to come in for anything less than the apocalypse. She asks Jess to make sure Lena doesn’t get any surprise meetings or extra paperwork and finds the task done within the hour. She finishes her work as fast as humanly possible and emails it to Lois to check over real quick just to ensure that Snapper doesn’t force her to redo it another seven times (Snapper makes her redo it only twice, which is a record all on its own, really). The second she’s done with work, Kara flies out for a little round-the-world supply run: pasta and pizza from Italy, Bailey’s cheesecake from Ireland, wine from Argentina, and a quick stop to South Korea for a potsticker or fifty.

When she gets back home, she unloads all the food on her kitchen counter and speeds her way through a quick shower and into a panicked phone call with Alex on what she should wear (“Anything is fine, Kara, seriously. You could wear a trash bag and Lena would still find a way to stare at your arms.” It doesn’t really help, but Alex takes some pity on her and they settle on a crisp blue button down and black slacks).

She feels a little more confident after Kelly and Esme compliment her (their, Alex corrects) outfit choice, so by the time Kara’s stored away the dessert, chilled the wine, and reheated their main meal, she feels a lot less jittery about the conversation she hopes to have tonight.

She’s mostly over her freaking-out-phase, but a knot of nerves stay seated firmly in her stomach.

She doesn’t want to back out. She doesn’t want to do this, either.

It’s almost twenty minutes later when she hears Lena’s heartbeat arrive at her street minutes before six thirty (the earliest time she and Jess could get Lena out of her meetings). Kara smooths down the front of her shirt as she waits for Lena to climb the steps of her apartment, wringing her fingers as she fights the urge to fly down and pick Lena up herself. The nerves that had fluttered in her stomach earlier that morning have turned into a twisting grind of excitement and anticipation.

No matter the outcome of her confession today, Kara knows that she can trust Lena not to pull away from her completely.

They’ve gone through too much for either of them to just walk away from each other now.

With that little thought of assurance settled deep in her chest, Kara feels the tension in her shoulders drop the slightest bit as Lena’s knock finally reaches her front door.

As soon as Kara opens the door, she feels her lips stretch into a wide grin. On the other side of the door, Lena’s smiling back just as brightly, a (stolen) oversized sweater and loose jeans making her look small and cozy.

“Hi,” Kara breathes, reaching out instinctively to pull Lena into a hug. Lena burrows into her in reply, warm lips ghosting over her collarbone as Kara hears her whisper the words back.

“Missed you,” Lena adds and Kara feels her heart flutter at the admission, feels like the universe is expanding in her chest. She tries to stifle her grin as Lena slowly pulls away but ultimately fails.

Kara repeats the sentiment before ushering Lena inside as a newfound excitement starts to build in her chest. Lena’s here. And she missed her. How can she not want to shout out her love now?

With a little anticipation shaking her fingers, Kara helps Lena with her coat before leading her to the couch.

On the coffee table, as neatly presentable as she could get it, is the little international dinner she’d managed to scrounge up. With a dramatic wave of her hands, she exclaims, “Ta-da!”

She hears Lena gasp before she sees blue-green eyes flit around the table, red lips stretching wider with every plate of food it lands on. Lena’s fingers wrap around her wrist and slide down to tangle with Kara’s own, squeezing her hand as she turns to see a blinding grin. “Kara, this is just—amazing, but, and I’m grateful for this, really, but did I miss a special occasion? I know it isn’t my birthday or yours.”

Kara feels her stomach flutter at the way Lena’s head tilts, red lips twisted into a bewildered smile. Lena’s just so cute. All the time. Especially now.

She fumbles for glasses that aren’t on her face and settles on tucking some hair behind her ear instead. Kara shakes away the breathlessness in her throat and smiles, “No, no special occasion. It’s just—you’re always treating me. Thought it was time to return the favor.”

(And Kara would never admit it, but seeing Lena’s smile light up her entire face, teary eyes shining over her scrunched nose, is more than enough reason for her to do this all over again.)

Lena’s laugh is giddy as they move to the couch. Each grabbing a plate as Lena smiles. “If I didn’t know any better, Kara Zor-El. I’d think this was a bribe.”

“Can’t a girl treat her favorite…” the word person dies off her lips as her world slows down at the sight of Lena’s childish grin as she grabs a slice of pizza, sauce and oil dripping into her palm before Lena dips down and licks it. A long pink tongue darting out and twi—

“Your favorite, huh?”

Kara feels the heat in her stomach jump to her face, blue eyes ducking to hide behind blonde hair as she lets out a sharp, breathy laugh. Lena’s soft red lips are twisted in clear amusement and the teasing brow Lena quirks her way does nothing to ease the butterflies in her stomach.

Still, despite the heat bursting to the tips of her ears, Kara knows that it’s impossible to reply any differently. Honesty, they promised.

So she shrugs. Because it’s obvious. “Yeah.” Inevitable. “My favorite.”

Lena blushes despite the beaming smile that takes up her face, the pleasant surprise evident in her crinkled green eyes.

“Well,” Lena smiles, crooked and dopey and entirely too endearing. “You’re my favorite, too, Kara Zor-El.”

And they could go on forever, Kara knows—their affection for each other thick and tangible and never-ending, but Kara’s stomach chooses that exact moment to protest the millennia of waiting for food and breaks whatever tension filled the room.

They spend the rest of the night trading stories about their week, laughing in between fresh pasta and pizza. Kara feels herself melting into the moment, Lena’s knee pressing into her thigh, dim lights turning green eyes golden, warmth climbing from her chest to her cheeks. There’s a buzzing in her veins—a staticky mix of nerves and calm and excitement and fear. Fear of the unknown. Of rejection. Of heartbreak.

And yet.

Lena always made her braver. Stronger. More hopeful.

Kara could always hope. Hope for nothing to change. For an answer. For the best.

So it’s after they’ve eaten dessert (Lena enjoying her one and a half slice and Kara her four)—stomachs full and spirits sated, a documentary about space playing out in front of them—that Kara gathers the courage to finally, just—say it.

“I love you, y’know?” Kara tries for casual and falls short by a mile.

Lena tilts her head at her confession, smile soft but eyes swimming with something.

“I know,” Lena replies, soft. Honest. Close. “I love you, too.”

And, oh, how sweet a fact? A universal truth? An unbreakable oath?

“Well,” Kara exhales, the tightness in her chest mixed with fear and love and hope. “Do you know I’m in love with you?”

Lena pauses, the emotions flitting through her face too fast for Kara to name, and then. Lena settles on just one.

Lena looks at her with stars in her eyes and a trembling smile. She looks at her as if she’s given her a cup of Colombian coffee seconds after she’s woken up. She looks at her as if she’s just solved quantum gravity. She looks at her as if she’s given her the biggest hug after a long day.

Lena looks at her as if she knows.

It’s a look that makes Kara lean in, a moth to a flame. A sailor to the sea. Kara Zor-El to Lena Luthor.

She leans in just as Lena laughs—voice wet but smile impossibly bright—and Kara can taste the way she whispers, “I’d hoped.”

Kara pulls back just enough to see Lena’s eyes falling to her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then Lena closes the distance and kisses her. Deep and slow and everything.

-

“Was this whole—” Lena hums, snuggles closer into Kara’s side—the documentary they’d been watching rewound to the start because they’d missed more than half of it. “—around-the-world treat your big romantic gesture?”

And she snorts out a laugh because, well, she isn’t wrong.

“It was part of it.” Kara gives the covered pale hip she’s holding an affectionate, happy little squeeze. So, so happy. “How’d I do?”

“Eleven out of five stars.” Lena beams, stretching up to peck her on the lips before settling back into her side.

And as Janna Levin continues to explain what happens in blackholes on the dimmed screen in front of them, Kara pulls Lena impossibly closer and thinks that she’d never been more right.

This does all feel unstoppably permanent.

[divine-donna]

Can I please request a hotd crew headcanons of a modern zombie apocalypse au of them surving with their lover!reader

(I love your acc🥰)

( I put modern zombie apocalypse so you don't think it's like... medieval)

hi anon!! i'm so happy to provide, especially since the last of us just wrapped up. i get the modern zombie apocalypse since it's trendy. honestly though, i would not mind doing a separate post for a medieval zombie apocalypse (which you can argue is just game of thrones?).

there are shows that do have a medieval zombie apocalypse premise, like the korean drama kingdom (which is on netflix if anyone's interested).

these are relatively short headcanons. i can do separate posts to elaborate them more.

and also thanks for the love!! i'm happy you enjoy my account! <3

ser criston cole

the man is prepared for the apocalypse when it comes. he has a whole journal detailing every possible scenario. it bothers you a little just how prepared and ready he was. but also, you couldn't be more thankful to have a lover that was prepared. he's saved you both on more than one occasion. and you both are constantly moving. but it's nice for when you guys settle down for a bit. criston's insistent on the two of you being on your own. but you have sympathies for the people you come across, like alicent and her group of children.

"the more people we have (y/n), the more likely we will die. we need to survive on our own. it's the only way."

daemon targaryen

a leader in his own right, daemon targaryen leads a band of survivors int he apocalypse. he has settled down, created a commune, and it's very homey. but he mostly did it for you. moving around was a way to guarantee safety, sure. but he didn't want the both of you to spend your days wandering and looking for supplies. it took years to build a commune, but he did it. he did it with you. and now you two were free to sit in chairs, say hi to people, harvest food, and occasionally take out a zombie to protect the commune.

"today, our carrot productions were high, higher than last year's. we also have a shipment of flour coming in from another commune soon. i would hope you like carrot cake, my love."

rhaenyra targaryen

the two of you traveled for a bit, hijacking cars that were abandoned and ransacking any sort of food you guys could get. it was a nice lifestyle, to wander with rhaenyra. just the two of you surviving. the two of you were happy on your own. but as the years went by, it became harder to survive by scavenging on your own. and rhaenyra pulled the plug when she pulled the both of you up at daemon's commune. he was inviting, warm, welcoming. you both were allowed to stay for as long as you liked, as long as you both contributed.

"this is a lot safer for us (y/n). it's safer than scavenging. most resources are out anyways. here, we don't have to worry. we can sleep without a gun in our hands."

alicent hightower

it's hard to survive the zombie apocalypse with so many people to take care of. alicent wasn't willing to leave her children, so her plus her four children plus you made that six people. and then of course, you had criston join at some point, so that was seven people. and alicent knew she wasn't going to be welcome at the commune daemon set up (she only knew by word of mouth). so what choice did she have but to start her own commune? and she was thankful to have you, because you were already familiar with the innerworkings of agriculture and architecture. so your small group of people started building a commune and eventually, more people joined your little family of greens.

"i hate how long gardening takes. we'll have to rely on other communes for trade and barter. but i look forward to harvesting our first spinach together."

aegon targaryen

it's hard to do things when you're drunk. but the thing about the zombie apocalypse is that alcohol became a lot less common. and he was too impatient to make his own. so aegon just went sober for years on end. it was hard for him, going through withdrawal and dealing with existential awareness and death all the time. many times, he almost died because his mind and body were not responding the way he wanted to. but you were there to bury an axe in the heads of the zombies coming towards him. you were there to drag him away. you were there to tell him to stay awake and recall your fond memories together. thank god for setting up a commune.

"i never thought i'd have to touch dirt and learn how to garden. but if i don't, mother would kick me out. we are growing strawberries though. so you will get to taste the fruits of my labor."

aemond targaryen

your partner is a strong man, a man of great strength and great courage. by now, you thought you would be dead. if it weren't for aemond. he was behind you at all times, always. despite starting to settle down for a communal lifestyle, he still gets antsy and nervous. sometimes he wakes up from nightmares where you have died in his arms or he had to watch you decay slowly from an infection. aemond is always relieved when he sees that you are okay. and you simply pat the spot next to you so he can join you and you can embrace him.

"i never thought i was afraid. but it appears i am more afraid of settling down somewhere rather than traveling, where we were at risk of dying every day. it's a weird thought (y/n). but at least you are safe."

helaena targaryen

helaena's a smart girl, a very smart girl. your girlfriend is extremely resourceful and definitely the medic among the traveling group. if it weren't for the apocalypse, she would have gone to medical school. she told you that's what she wanted to do. but she was forced to consult textbooks without any real certification (or even sanitary places) to treat injuries. and even if the textbooks slowed her down, they still were great as a weapon due to how thick they were. safe to say, her talents were well appreciated once the commune got established. while she was the medical expert, you monitored gardening, soil ph, and oversought agriculture in general. there's nothing better than two partners in stem surviving the apocalypse.

"did you grow this?...it looks so cute!...what? i'm not making fun of your gardening skills. they start out small before becoming abundant. it's the first step towards really thriving in this shithole of a world."

jacaerys velaryon

he's known no life but the apocalypse. it came when he was still young and it's hard for him to admit that he's numb to the world already. jace has a few rules under his belt, like don't get bitten and never leave someone behind. thankfully, he's spent much of his teenagehood in daemon's commune. he's still a bit shaky. you know because sometimes, he tenses up and his hand goes to the knife at his waist when you tap him on the shoulder. you're his partner, his lover, but he's still so nervous. he's already a leader for trade and the kitchen. you hate how he has to go out in the world to oversee the trade of goods to other communes. but jace always makes sure to reassure you that he will return.

"you need not worry about me. i will be back in a day or so. it's not a long trip since the other commune is only a good drive from here. when we get back, i will make us some soup: your favorite soup."

[masteroftime231]

Finally watched the last episode of hotd and, oh my, that was something. I found Rhaenyra and Daemon irritating before, but now I dislike them really, really much.

The last straw was their relationship with Viserys. We can argue a lot who Viserys is: a good guy, a weak king, a person responsible for the division inside his family, whatever. However, in the last episode he is shown as a dying, almost blind, partially paralyzed man who suffers from constant excruciating pain. I would say some basic compassion is in order even from enemies in such cases.

Yet, we have Rhaenyra and Daemon who come to see him. It is said that this visit takes place six years after their last meeting and they are in King’s Landing not because of some pathetic reasons like they missed their farther and brother, respectively. Oh, of course, not. The reason why they are there is truly stunning and brave - Rhaenyra’s life choices try to finally catch up with her and this may result in the loss of Driftmark and, potentially, the Iron Throne. So the sweet couple wants the king to protect them and their interests.

What really disgusted me was their further behavior: once they saw Viserys they started complaining to him about Dtiftmark and inheritance. Indeed, dude, how dare you to just lay here dying, while your daughter is in trouble that she brought on herself. The sheer audacity!

However, even that was nothing in comparison with Rhaenyra’s nighttime visit to Viserys. Not to spend some time with her dying father and just talk to him, tell him about his grandkids or something. No, no, no. She came to cry, complain and asked him to protect her. Viserys on his death bed (!) had to protect her. I still wonder how she did not mention Rhaenys being so mean to her that it had made her cry.

And all of this is shown as a proof of great love that Rhaenyra and Daemon hold for their relative. I mean, with such loving relatives you have no need in enemies. Mind-blowing.

[meeeeeeese]

So what's the deal with Wizard ascension?

(spoilers for SotO ahead)

So something introduced in SotO is the rite of ascension, a ritual that empowers an individual by connecting them to the flow of magic, and in exchange losing most of your memories. It's what separates The Wizards from any old mage on Tyria.

And as many people know, there's another ritual, also called the ritual of ascension, that empowers you. This one however doesn't grant immprtality, doesn't remove memories, and is supposed to function via 'communing with the gods'.

So the big question is, is the Augury Rock ritual the same as Isgarren's ritual? The gods have taken credit for a ton of stuff over the years (The Creation of Tyria, The bloodstone and a ton of artifacts looted from the pre-existing races of Tyria) so it wouldn't surprise me if they were lying once again about being the source of the Ascension ritual's power. And it'd make sense because once someone ascends and connects to the flow of magic they'd sense six powerful beings and not knowing about the Dragons, they'd assume it was the gods.

The immortality thing is a bit of a stickler, it's possible that Isgarren upgraded the ritual. Or maybe immortality isn't a part of the ritual and they have a separate spell to maintain life. However it does make me wonder if they are separate.

Now last but not least is the removal of memories. The wizards claim it's to 'make room' but it's very possible that Isgarren is lying to the others and memory removal isn't an inherent part of the ritual. But if he's lying, then why? Here's where I get into idle speculation but if Isgarren added the memory erasement himself then it might be because of Eparch.

So we gather throughout the story that Eparch and Isgarren have history, and that Eparch once even walked the halls of the Wizard's Tower.

However, as we know, Eparch eventually decided to run off and become the king of demons* after Isgarren denied him a spot on the Wizard's council. So my theory is that he didn't always take away the memories, but after the Eparch incident he made a new rule to prevent it happening again. Perhaps it's a test to see how far you're willing to go to protect Tyria, after all, if you can't give up your memories, how can you be expected to give up your life? The other option I can think of is it's a way to enforce the wizard's neutrality on the affairs of the surface. So that wizard's don't run in and intervene every time their home town and loved ones are threatened.

Either way though there's a lot we still don't know and I'm sure more information will come out as we get closer to Zojja making her final choice.

*so one thing about Eparch I'm not clear on is if he was always a demon. The Margonites prove it's possible to transform a mortal into a demon, but it's currently unknown if that happened to Eparch. Once again I guess we'll find out more in later releases.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

All The Best People (Are Crazy)

Word Count: 10,000, deal with it.

Warnings: Blood, language, dark concepts, mentions of past abuse, and something a little steamier than I usually do so you guys have fun with that.

Series: Rational Thinking (Series Masterlist)

Summary: The goal? Stop Silas from rising. The plan? Steal the map to his tomb. See it sounds easy enough when you say it like that, but it's less easy when the map is, in fact, a tattoo on a living breathing person who just so happens to be your best friend. Kol wanted to kill Jeremy outright, but you would never let that happen. Instead, you'll do just about anything to sway Jeremy to your side. The ends justify the means... or so you hope. || Kol x Prodigy!reader || Here lies my Masterlist.||

A/N: Sorry about the long wait! Hope you guys enjoy this. ROLL TAPE!

I'm peeling the skin off my face

'Cause I really hate being safe

The normals, they make me afraid

The crazies, they make me feel sane

You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone

Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong

Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed

So what if I'm crazy? The best people are.

Mad Hatter - Melanie Martinez

"Y/N/N?" Jeremy's faint whisper seemed good enough to take as your queue.

You pushed open the freezer door, striding in to stand beside Kol. Damon's expression was carefully controlled but you could see a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Good. You smirked in satisfaction and shifted your gaze to Jeremy. 

"Yeah, sorry about the dramatic entrance, but that corner back there was really dark… just couldn't help myself."

"Y/N/N?" Your friend repeated. "Y-You're alive?"

Jeremy's eyes were as round as saucers, his face a picture of surprise, suspicion, and relief all rolled into one. He lowered the crossbow in his hands, staring at you like he'd seen a ghost. In a way, you supposed he had. As far as Jeremy knew, you had been dead for six months. Nothing that had happened in Denver or Kansas was his fault, but you knew he'd blamed himself. That was just how Jeremy worked. 

He was an all-or-nothing sort of person, just as Kol had said. In his eyes, either nothing was his fault or everything was. You could see it in him clear as day; first his parents (there was nothing he could have done), then Vicki (she'd never really had a chance), then Anna (you'd really liked her, the two of you were a lot alike), then his aunt (Jenna had deserved a whole lot better), then Alaric (you'd never liked the day-drunk history teacher but he'd taken care of Jeremy so that earned him some leniency), then you (you were alright but as soon as he realized you'd turned he wouldn't see it that way), then Elena. There's only so much one person could take and you knew this hunter thing was his attempt to be better, to do better, to stop losing people.

He couldn't see himself as worth the sacrifices others were making so he was sacrificing himself without even realizing it. You had made your choice in Denver to protect him. You had faced an original - a dangerous one thousand-year-old vampire - alone to protect him. You had made that choice!

And now what? He was just going to throw that all away?

No. No, you weren't gonna let him. Not this time. Not ever. And most certainly not for Elena.

"'Sup, Crackhead." You let your expression soften into a smile - not a smirk or a half smile - a real, genuine, joyful smile. "I'm alive."

"You're alive…" Jeremy smiled too and that crossbow slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground. "You're alive!" The kid knew you weren't the biggest fan of hugs, especially long, clingy ones, but you figured this was a special occasion. So when he practically threw himself at you, nearly sending you both to the floor because he was easily twice as strong as the last time you'd seen him, you caught him with a laugh and just let him cling to you in a hug that very nearly crushed your ribs. "I missed you so much," He promised, voice thick with a myriad of emotions.

"Oh, you better have," You grumbled. That was just your way of saying: 'Me too.' Though you'd never admit it to his face, you had missed him more than you could express. The two of you had spent almost every minute of your lives together since the second grade, you'd hardly ever gone a day without seeing or talking to him in some form or another, so going through these last six months without so much as a text from him had been downright painful. Even though you hadn't been ready to see him, because you still had things you'd needed to work through and even though Kol had been an excellent distraction, you had still missed your best friend.

Jeremy let go of a breathy laugh. "You're a pain."

You grinned. "Indeed." Jeremy could hardly bring himself to pull away as if he were afraid you'd disappear the moment he let go, so he didn't. He caught the edge of your sleeve and kept it fisted in his hand just as he used to do when you were children. You allowed it, offering a slight smile. He watched you for a moment and his face fell.

"Y/N I…" He trailed off, shaking his head with a sigh. "I'm so, so sorry. I-I never should have left you, I should've stayed!" 

"Yeah, right, like that would'a done anything. You couldnt've stopped me if you tried," You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Your tone softened. "It wasn't your fault, Jeremy. I'm alright, and I forgive you."

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but another voice cut him off.

"Ah, ah! Nope, no way! I'm calling bull on this!" Damon interjected. You snapped your gaze to him, fixing the elder Salvatore with a hardened glare. Yet he still had the audacity to continue, addressing Jeremy as though you weren't even there. "Listen to me kid, this is a trick - some sort of witchy illusion or something. Honestly, I dunno - but whatever that is, it's not your friend, Gilbert." The boy eyed you wearily. "Kid? Hey... Hey kid, look at me… Eyes on me, Gilbert!" He didn't respond. "Jeremy, look at me!" Damon caught his arm, tearing his eyes away from you. "Jeremy, listen - listen to me. She's dead. She's dead, Jeremy. Your sister and I? We watched her die - watched it happen right in front of us." He gestured to Kol who raised a brow amusedly. "This maniac? He snapped her neck. Alright? Snapped it. Like a twig. Get the picture? She's gone. Dead-zo. Y/N's gone, Gilbert… and she ain't comin' back."

Jeremy seemed almost convinced, but you weren't worried. The truth would win out. "You know, Damon? Your commitment to deceit would be impressive if it weren't so pathetic," You droned, examining your fingernails in a deliberate display of nonchalance. 

"Don't think I asked you, Sherlock," Damon dismissed.

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, raising a brow in an invitation.

Although you had never feared Damon, you had acknowledged his power over you - to ignore his superior physical capacity would have been an egregiously arrogant oversight on your part. Things were different now. Now you were a vampire and physically his equal. Damon had feared you when you were human for your intelligence - Kol had given you the strength to complement that. 

You didn't need to tiptoe around Damon anymore - you didn't need to hold back anymore. That invitation in your gaze wasn't the friendly sort. It was something decidedly more sinister, entreating him to contemplate, just for a moment, just how insignificant he truly was. You caught a glimmer of fear. You hummed.

"Maybe not, but we hardly get what we ask for, do we? After all, I asked only for a measure of loyalty in return for risking my life, but you refused to provide even that." You shrugged, narrowing your eyes. "Honestly, I see no reason why I shouldn't just kill you for what you did to me."

Jeremy's brows furrowed. "Damon, what's she talking about?"

"Beats me, kid." It was so obviously a lie, it made you want to scream. You turned to your friend.

"When we split up in Denver, he and Elena never planned on me surviving long enough to reunite with you guys in Kansas," You told him, willing him to see the truth in your eyes. He shook his head.

"No, Elena texted you the address - I watched her do it," Jeremy insisted. His grip on the crossbow tightened.

"Well that's a text I never got." You crossed your arms over your chest. "They lied to you, Jer. Elena and Damon intended for Kol to kill me."

The original vampire chuckled at that and you shot him a scathing look.

"What?" Jeremy's eyes flew wide and he rounded on Damon. "Is this true?!" He demanded.

"Of course not!" Damon scoffed. "Your sister loves you. She wouldn't do something like that and she would never allow me to either, regardless of how much I want to. As I said-"

"I'm not an illusion!" You growled. "I can prove it." Drawing your hand from your pocket, you displayed an old and tattered bracelet - a couple of multi-colored beads on a black cord. "You gave this to me in third grade. I've kept it on ever since, I never take it off. Do you remember what we wished for?" He nodded slowly and you held your hand out to him. "We wished to grow up and become dragons. Go ahead - take it!" You ripped the bracelet from your wrist and let it fall.

His hand shot out and the black cord caught on his fingers, swinging slightly. The corners of his mouth twitched up. "It's real... you're real!"

"Told ya' so." You smirked. You couldn't stop yourself from snatching the bracelet back just as quickly, tying it around your wrist once more. Maybe the magic was gone now, but giving up your wish was the least you could do for him. Now came the hard part. Jeremy's face fell, then hardened.

"You lied to me," He ground out between clenched teeth. He watched Damon out of the corner of his eye but didn't turn to face him. His knuckles were white and you caught the scent of blood as his nails dug into the palms of his hands. You could see the tension and effort in the lines of his body, the gargantuan restraint he showed in keeping perfectly still was baffling. The urge he felt to attack Damon must have been insane, but despite your hatred for the raven-haired vampire, you felt proud of Jeremy. A year ago, he would have thrown hands at the first chance he got. 

Damon cursed under his breath. "We had a reason," He tried. "Elena-"

"No!" The boy shouted. "No, there was no reason! You and Elena do this every time! Every time you don't wanna have to deal with the consequences of your actions, you just lie! Elena has no right to make decisions for me!" He turned his head, eyes blazing with anger and betrayal. "And neither do you."

"We didn't lie to you. We just omitted certain truths, because if we hadn't, you would have done something stupid," Damon claimed, crossing his arms arrogantly. "Now, before you go all VanHelsing on me, why don't you ask little Miss. Honesty here whether she's still human or not? I'm sure her answer will be very interesting." He shot you a sideways glance, smirking triumphantly.

Jeremy paused, eyeing you with a question he didn't want to ask.

You bit your lip, sighing heavily. You didn't meet his eyes. "Go ahead, Jer. You know I won't lie to you."

His eyes flicked to Kol, filling with a venomous hatred that surprised you. "What did he do to you, Y/N/N?"

"I'm alright, Jer."

"What. Did. He. Do?"

You took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. "Vampire blood in a deplorably flat root beer followed by asphyxiation. I did that part myself - locked myself in a running car - Kol didn't do anything. It was painless, just like falling asleep."

Evidently, Kol took this revelation as permission to slip his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. Two taps with his thumb on the back of your hand. It was something he did from time to time - a reminder of sorts, just to say I'm here. He had your back, no matter what. You weren't alone anymore.

"No." Jeremy shook his head. "No, you promised. You promised me you wouldn't!"

"I know I did," You sighed. "But circumstances change." 

"How could you?" He muttered. "HOW COULD YOU?!" 

Kol stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the stake your best friend had unconsciously pulled from his waistband. It wasn't that he thought you incapable of protecting yourself; rather he was simply more durable. 

"Don't you dare condemn her, mate," He said, pointedly eyeing the stake that found itself in Jeremy's hand. "Not when you've corrupted your body with a curse of your own."

The boy's eyes widened and he dropped it as if the wood were a writhing snake. He snapped his head up, his eyes swimming with regret. "I-I'm sorry."

You nodded. "So am I." You tapped Kol on the shoulder and he glanced back at you, then stepped out of the way somewhat reluctantly. Moving forward, you approached Jeremy slowly, standing up on your tiptoes to give him a proper hug. "I'm sorry for everything," You whispered, squeezing his shoulders. "This never should have happened to you, and I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you needed me." You pulled away and offered him a soft smile. "But I'm here now, and I'm here for you. Come with us! Kol knows how to remove the Hunter's mark, we can leave this town behind. We could go see the world, just like we always wanted! The Saint Louis Arch, The Taj Mahal, The Great Wall of China… Hell, we could go to Disneyland!" You laughed, grinning up at him with as much hope as you could put into your features. Jeremy's lips twitched up at the corners but his eyes still seemed unsure. "Please?"

"Nice try Hannibal, but there's no way in hell he's going anywhere with you," Damon sneered. You sighed, licking your lips and asking any deity out there for the patience not to rip his head off.

"Damon, sweetie, I think you've lost your relevance and right to be heard in this conversation." You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. "Now, why don't you run along?"

"I don't listen to little girls who commit suicide," He sneered. "You just want to stop Jeremy from helping us find the cure so you can appease your little boyfriend."

You opened your mouth to say something snappy, but of course Kol, never one to be taunted, beat you to it. 

"At least she sleeps with me by choice," He said, tilting his head with a smirk. "No sire-bond required."

Damon growled and the look on Jeremy's face as he eyed you was a poster for disgust. 

You just sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Kol, you realize how that's not helping, right?" You could picture the cheeky grin that was sure to be dancing across his lips without even looking back at him.

"You said to tell the truth, darling."

"Yeah, and I also said don't antagonize," You reminded him. 

"Ah, but he makes it so easy," Kol mumbled into your ear, squeezing your hips as he drew you closer to him and a little further away from Jeremy's confused and distrustful glare. You pursed your lips to hide your amusement and rolled your eyes.

"Just let me do the talking, 'kay?"

"As you wish."

You turned your eyes back on Jeremy who just stared at you in disbelief. You shrugged.

"Really, Y/N?" He demanded. "Him?" 

You raised a brow. "My dude, you actually kissed a ghost. Let's not get into each other's romantic decisions right now."

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, shaking his head. "Yeah, whatever - we're not done here FYI. Anyway, I'm sorry, Y/N. But regardless of how much I hate him right now, Damon's right. I can't go with you."

You blinked, brows pulling together. "Why not?"

"I have to help my sister get the cure. She's sire-bonded to his ass and it's annoying as hell," He said, jabbing a thumb in Damon's direction with a wry smile. A moment later, that smile fell and you caught a glimpse of a boy who was much more tired than he ought to be. He sighed and there was resignation in his voice when he spoke again. "Elena's not meant to be a vampire, Y/N… and neither are you."

"Jeremy-"

"If I can finish the Hunter's mark, it'll lead us to the cure. You and Elena can both be human again."

"But you won't!" You shouted. "You'll be gone!"

"What?" 

"The Hunter's mark is a corrosive spell," Kol stepped in. "It gives you increased strength and speed at the price of your humanity, eating away at your soul until you become more heartless, savage, and blood thirsty than the so-called monsters it compels you to hunt."

You nodded, willing your best friend to understand - to hear the desperation in your voice. "Don't you see, Jer? If you complete that mark, you won't have any desire to help Elena. The only desire you'll have is to kill her, along with every other vampire in this godforsaken town."

Damon scoffed. "You don't know that! You're just making that up."

"No, I'm not," Kol spoke, shaking his head. "I've studied magic for a millennia, I know of what I speak and so do you, Jeremy. You know it's changing you - you can feel it. Because it's not just ink on your skin - this spell - it's in your bones, it's in your brain, it's in your blood." He spread his hands as if laying the truth out for him to see. "That instinct? That need to deliver death? With every kill, it'll grow stronger… and that's a promise."

"Doesn't sound so bad if it's you I'm killing," Jeremy growled through clenched teeth. 

"Perhaps not." Kol shrugged. Then he tilted his head and grinned. "But then again… what if it isn't?" He paused, inviting Jeremy to consider it. "What if the next time you drive a stake into somebody's heart, you wake up only to realize that it's your beloved sister? Or perhaps it'll be Y/N laying dead at your feet?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. But there was something unsteady in his voice. "That'd never happen. I wouldn't-"

"No, you think you wouldn't," Kol interjected, voice harsh. "But I guarantee that when those instincts are active, you won't be thinking. You'll just be killing. Mindlessly killing." Jeremy's eyes flicked to yours and you saw a glimmer of fear. "At least, until Damon here or someone like my brother kills you first, in which case they'd use your mark to find and subsequently raise Silas who will kill us all." Kol's eyes narrowed into slits. "A rather greusome ending any way you slice it, I can't let that happen."

"Please, Jer?" You pleaded. "Please don't destroy yourself for them."

Jeremy paused, seeming to think about it. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I'm strong enough to free you, Y/N/N." He shook his head and looked up with steel in his eyes. "I can do this."

You couldn't help the scowl that tugged at your lips. "Come on, man. Think this through."

"This is my choice!" He shouted. "I'm not gonna lose anyone else!" 

Your hands closed into fists and you clenched your teeth, trying your best to remain calm. "Can't you see it? They're using you!"

He cast his eyes away, locking his jaw. "I'm glad you're okay, Y/N/N, truly. But you don't know what it's like to lose you - to lose anyone! This is something I have to do. I don't expect you to understand."

You shook your head, feeling your shoulders slump. An odd feeling pricked at your eyes and you tried to blink whatever that sensation was away, but it refused to leave. Your chest felt tight. He was going to die all for Elena and her selfish desires. The thought of losing him hurt - it physically hurt.

What was this feeling?

You blinked rapidly but it did nothing to dampen the stinging in your eyes. This was awful! Your chest hurt so you hugged your arms around yourself, feeling as though you might scream or shake apart. Kol had told you that feelings were enhanced as a vampire but you had brushed off his warning. You'd never been very good at feeling things anyway and the things you did feel you hardly ever understood. 

You didn't know what this feeling was and you didn't know how to handle it.

You couldn't lose Jeremy. You just couldn't!

You couldn't think! You couldn't breathe!

"Well, I understand just fine," Kol said. You felt his hand settle on your back, moving in comforting circles while he continued to speak. "I could just kill you, but then I'd have to deal with the Hunter's curse and I-I don't particularly feel like being haunted for the next century." He paused glancing at you. He squeezed your shoulder gently and looked up. "Better idea!" He announced. "I'll just rip off your arms."

Kol lunged for Jeremy but Damon rushed forward and threw him into the wall. 

"Jeremy, run!" He cried, straining from the effort of keeping Kol pinned. 

Jeremy cast one last glance at you before he turned and raced from the room. Damon threw a punch at Kol's face and His head snapped to the side but he was grinning. You, on the other hand, wanted to move, yet you couldn't. It was as though your body were frozen in place, unable to process anything. Damon sent another punch but Kol caught his fist and twisted, whipping the raven-haired vampire around and into a headlock. From there it wasn't much effort to snap his neck. Damon's temporarily dead corpse dropped to the ground with an unceremonious thump. From there, Kol gave it a swift kick in the side just for good measure before looking up.

As it always did, his face softened when he looked at you. You were shaking; blinking and gasping as you stared at him. Kol just opened his arms and you threw yourself into his embrace. His arms wound themselves tightly around your back and he buried a hand in your hair.

"I don't understand!" You choked out. "What is this? Why does it hurt?!"

"Hey, shhh. It's alright, darling. You're going to be alright," He mumbled reassuringly. One hand rubbed circles over your back while the other played with your hair. You just clung to him, hoping he could make this pain go away. "This feeling you're experiencing is called despair. It can be consuming or painful, usually stemming from loss or the fear of it."

"I-I don't want it!" You hiccuped, fisting his jacket.

"I know." Kol pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. "I know it hurts, love but you need to let yourself feel it."

You shook your head. You didn't want to feel this. "This is why vampires turn their emotions off, isn't it? To make the pain go away?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"And does it work?" You whispered.

"It does… in a way." He held you tighter, curling his whole body around you. "But it leaves you empty - hollow. It's a different sort of pain and in it there's no satisfaction, no joy, and no love. It's just dull and numb."

"I wouldn't mind feeling numb right about now." 

"Don't turn it off, Y/N."

"Why?" You hissed. "I don't want to feel this! I don't like it!"

"I know, darling. Believe me, I know this pain. I know it better than anyone." He pulled away, cupping your face in his hands. His chocolate eyes drilled into yours, filled with something desperate and warm. "So don't you dare turn it off. I know you Y/N, and if you turn it off, you will never turn it back on again. I-I'd lose you forever." Kol leaned in resting his forehead against yours. "Please don't do that to me. Please, darling… I love you. Don't leave me just yet."

You were silent for a moment, mulling it over.

"What does love feel like?" You asked quietly. The boy's thumbs skimmed over your cheeks and he tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear.

"It feels like this."

Kol crashed his lips against yours, pushing you backward until your back was pressed against the freezing metal wall. His arm around your waist drew you impossibly close until Kol's body was flush with yours. It wasn't like any other kiss. This one was reality-shattering. It was so much more than just the lust you'd previously felt from him. It was sweet and adoring, yet hungry and passionate. It was like he put all the feelings he had for you - everything he was holding back, everything he was waiting for you to understand - into this one perfect kiss. You hadn't known it was possible to feel this much, this intense. There was so much. There was joy and pleasure, longing, and devotion. Emotions you'd never understood fell into place in your mind as he kissed the living daylights out of you. 

His fingers tangled in and tugged at your hair, drawing a gasp from you as Kol bit gently on your lower lip. He'd been waiting a long time to show this all to you. Kol broke away from your mouth, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your throat. His tongue darted out to taste, quickly, hesitantly sweeping across your pulse. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips. That was all the encouragement he needed. You crossed your arms over his shoulders, urging him closer as you felt his teeth scrape along your skin. He moved lower, tasting and nipping, kissing your collarbone hungrily. His breaths were hot against your skin as Kol's mouth slowed. 

When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged and his voice was hoarse, but he was smiling. 

"That-that's what it feels like," He panted. He stroked your cheek sweetly, grinning like he just couldn't restrain himself. "You don't have to say it back, just know that I love you." His lips settled on yours again and it was quieter this time - slow and reassuring. The pain in your chest faded, blooming into a pleasant warmth.

"Kol?" Your voice was quiet - just a murmur against his lips.

"Mmm?"

"I think I love you too."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," He whispered. Kol pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. "Now as much as I'd love to continue this, it's time to switch to plan B. I'll handle Salvatore, you need to track down Jeremy. You're okay to do that, right?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay now."

"Good." He smiled, leaning in for another kiss. You returned it in kind and he groaned. "Bloody hell, you're beautiful."

You just snickered and tapped his shoulder to tell him it was time to go. He released you with a wink and a smirk before rounding on Damon. You didn't much feel like sticking around for what was sure to come next - Kol knew the plan and you trusted him not to deviate from it. Now though, it was critical that you go after Jeremy.

You raced from the rank and dingy bar and dashed through the woods, grinning as the wind carded through your hair. It was almost as if you really were a dragon as you pushed off a fallen tree and launched yourself into the air. Your jump carried you a ways and you welcomed the weightless feeling of falling in the precious moments before hitting the ground. Mastering your new abilities with Kol along for the ride was now one of your fondest memories. You remembered racing between the redwoods of California with him beside you, urging you to go faster. Vampire speed was freedom and freedom, you'd found, was exhilarating.

Before long you found yourself in front of the Gilbert lake house. You had loved this place as a kid. Sitting on the dock and devouring popsicles side by side with Jeremy was your summer ritual… every summer but this last one. You shook those memories away and hopped up onto the porch railing, Jeremy wasn't here yet so you resigned to wait.

You didn't have to wait very long, however. Jeremy pulled up the driveway behind the wheel of Damon's Chevy Camaro. That was just downright frightening. He got out of the car and shut the door, turning back to his house only to see you perched on the railing. Your best friend nearly jumped out of his skin and you flung up a peace sign, shooting him a smug smile. 

"Now, who the hell was deranged enough to give you a driver's license?" You asked, tilting your head. "Didn't you fail the test like a billion times?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "It was seven hundred times, thank you very much." You snorted and rolled your eyes. His expression grew sober. "Why are you here, Y/N/N?"

"Well, I would have let myself in to wait inside and raid your fridge but I, uh… can't… so yeah." You shrugged and hopped down. "You gonna let me in now or what?"

Jeremy regarded you for a moment longer, then he sighed heavily. "Alright, sure, whatever." He stepped up and unlocked the door, holding it open for you. "Come on in." He seemed slightly disgusted that he had to say that to you.

You stepped over the threshold and immediately made your way to the kitchen. You had warned him that you were gonna raid the fridge, it was just inevitable at this point.

"Ya' know? With the way everybody made it seem, I thought being a vampire was gonna be awful - like constant starvation and stuff. Turns out, it's not. I mean, yeah I'm always hungry, but it's just that really annoying feeling you get when you're only kinda hungry. Not starving, just really peckish all the time," You rambled, flicking on the kitchen lights even though you didn't really need them. Opening up the refrigerator door, you glanced around inside only to frown. "My dude, half the stuff in here is green… and I don't mean the leafy kind." You plucked a half-empty and very open container of yogurt off the shelf and held it up. "This crap is frickin' blue. That's nasty… Though I gotta say I'm surprised you even have it so, kudos to you I guess." You chucked the thing at the wastebasket, then glanced back at Jeremy who stood leaning in the kitchen doorway with a dry and very weary smile on his face.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure that was Elena's from the last time she stayed here," He smirked.

"I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt." You laughed and kicked the door shut with your foot, moving on to the pantry. Inside you found a 60-ounce bucket of pretzels and grinned. You pulled it from the shelf and waltzed out, holding it up. "Score!"

"Y/N," He sighed. He looked so tired. "What are you doing here?"

Your own carefully constructed smile slipped just a little. This boy in front of you wasn't quite the best friend you had been so excited to return to. Though Jeremy was still there, he was buried under far too much loss.

"Well I'm attempting to resolve deep rooted emotional trauma, of course. I thought that was obvious from the -" You shook the pretzel bucket to emphasize your statement. "- snacks. I mean, it ain't milkshakes, but it'll do." Jeremy raised a brow. You cleared your throat awkwardly. "We're, uh, gonna need couches too, right? If-if, um, if memory serves…"

Finally catching on to what it was you were trying to do, your best friend cracked a smile and pushed off the door frame. "Guess I'll get the blankets then," He said.

A few minutes and quite a bit of pillow gathering later, the two of you had constructed what you deemed to be an acceptable blanket fort. Using more than a dozen clothes pins, four blankets, twenty or so really heavy books, and that tall lamp in the corner of his living room as both the central support structure and all-purpose lighting, you covered the floor with couch cushions and pillows from around the house and nested yourselves in middle of it all, sitting cross-legged with a game of connect four and the bucket of pretzels between you. It was a near-perfect reconstruction of a familiar scene from your childhood.

It was something Jeremy had been doing for you since the second grade. There were times in school when you would throw fits with teachers or get into fights with other kids and on those days, Jeremy would invite you over to his house for homemade milkshakes. Together you would build a blanket fort and play Connect Four while you ate your respective sugar-packed concoctions, and Jeremy would ask you about what had made you so angry that particular day. You just didn't understand people or how they worked. Figuring out your own emotions was even worse. You could never understand what it was you were feeling, why you were feeling it, or what you should do about it. Your mother hadn't been around when you were really little to teach you the basics; she only became involved in your life when your IQ tested at genius levels, and even then she didn't deem emotions to be a topic worth covering. You despised anything you didn't understand, so you lashed out at whatever you thought had caused your feelings. Only little Jeremy Gilbert seemed to recognize why you were so angry and mean all the time. 

"I think it's cuz you're just so smart," He'd told you thoughtfully. "You got all this stuff in your head and some of it just gets mixed up."

So, during these little talks, he would do his seven-year-old best to explain what you were feeling or why a certain task or behavior was important, or why someone acted the way they did. Mrs. Gilbert was quick to catch on and she made sure you got all the right information. Within the walls of those blanket forts, you learned how to differentiate your emotions into categories - telling frustration from disgust or jealousy, amusement from joy or excitement, and loneliness from fear or shame. When you reached the sixth grade, Mrs. Gilbert had explained what drama was to both you and Jeremy, and together you had decided that it was stupid. Despite their best efforts, however, you still didn't understand why the pain of others shouldn't be funny. 

What you should have gotten was therapy - not psychiatrists and medicine, like your mother, insisted on. Though it certainly hadn't been ideal, your best friend did a pretty good job and the tradition of milkshakes and blanket forts continued throughout middle and high school - right up until Jeremy's parents died. The two of you hadn't had one since. Until now.

Jeremy broke the silence, just like he always did.

"Why'd you do it, Y/N?" He demanded. The look on his face was that of a person who's tried - really tried with all their heart - to understand, but simply couldn't.

You nodded and offered him a wry smile. "That's the only question that really matters right now, ain't it?" Sliding a red token into the fourth row, you leaned back a little and took a handful of pretzels. "Well, there were a lot of reasons. I guess the first thing you gotta understand is that I asked him to - I asked Kol to turn me, Jeremy - not the other way around. You know, I actually think I had him worried when I asked? He told me to think about it, make sure it was truly what I wanted because… well, he never got to make that choice. So, I think I'll tell you the same thing I told him."

"And what was that?" He asked.

"I told him I wanted to feel safe," You said. You pulled at a loose thread on one of the pillowcases, taking a moment before continuing. "Realizing that Damon really truly wanted me dead was what started it, I think. Then I just kept thinking about how easily Kol or his siblings or any other vampire or werewolf in the world could kill me. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I tried to find instances where I could think my way out of a bad situation - one where it was someone like Damon who wanted me to die, who wanted me gone - and I realized that I didn't really stand a chance. I-I felt…" Kol had told you the word for that feeling, the one where you were scared all the time. What had he called it? "I felt vulnerable, that's it. I felt vulnerable a-and small and insignificant and I hated it!"

Though he didn't say it, you knew Jeremy understood. He lowered his eyes back to the game board and took his turn. "You were never weak o-or insignificant," He said.

"But I was human," You countered. You eyed him with a meaningful look, pausing to draw a shuddering breath. "Look, you-you know what my… my mom… what she did to me." The words didn't come easy. You had to force them past your lips and even then it felt as though they wanted to crawl back down your throat to choke you - to keep you silent. "I-I just… I wanted to break free from her, you know? I mean, I always had to be the absolute best of everything, because if I wasn't… if I wasn't then she'd-" Your voice halted there and your whole body froze.

There was this one time, you remembered when you'd gotten a B on an Algebra test in seventh grade. Your mother had locked you in your room for the entirety of winter break. Two weeks you spent there - no food, no water. You'd been forced to drink from the bathroom sink, using your hands as a cup. The only way to escape was a fifteen-foot drop from your balcony window down onto a steep hillside that met with tightly packed trees at the bottom. Great way to die, that. Needless to say, you didn't jump.

Jeremy reached out and grabbed your hand in silent support, just as he always had. You scrubbed at your stinging eyes with your palms and grit your teeth.

"You know what she did to me, Jeremy," You croaked. For the love of Nick Cage, emotions were such icky, uncomfortable things! "You know what she did, you know what Damon did, you know what everyone in this damn town has done to me - what they keep on doing! A-and you know none of them would ever have stopped! I-I just wanted them to stop!" You sobbed. Jeremy's expression softened. You could only remember crying four times in your life. The tears that streamed down your face made this the fifth, as your best friend wrapped his arm around you and offered his shoulder for you to cry on. He'd always been there. "They never would've stopped. Never. I would grown up to live a life full of misery! All because of her! And I didn't want that! I-I had to be stronger… I had to."

"No, you didn't," Jeremy said, squeezing your shoulder. You wiped at your face fruitlessly once more. "You needed to be safe."

"You know, I think you might be right?" You sniffed. "Too late now though." You shrugged and slid a red token into the third slot, still resting your head on his shoulder. "Now I'm just immortal, and actually, I think I'm better for it."

Your best friend tensed a little, then relaxed and once again you saw that positively exhausted visage from before. He eyed you cautiously. "Are you?" He asked quietly.

"Am I what?"

"Okay, I guess?" He sighed, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "I don't know, Y/N. It's just that all this is so messed up and I don't even…" Jeremy glanced up at you. He looked so weary. "Do you really think you're better?"

You sent him a soft smile. "Yeah, Jer. I really do."

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "How is that even possible?"

You huffed a laugh and opted to stuff more pretzels in your face. "This is gonna sound ridiculous but I feel more human now than I did before. I feel things deeper and I can finally understand what those emotions are. I mean, I even have a favorite now!" You elbowed him a little and he took his turn.

"Yeah?"

"Indeed! Kol took me to Niagara Falls and what I felt wasn't like anything I'd read about in books…" You smiled softly, losing yourself in the memory of the thunderous cascading water, Kol's damp hair as the mist sprayed over you, and that wide-eyed feeling that filled you like the churning bubbles at the base of the falls. "Kol called it Wonder and I think that's my favorite," You said.

The hunter was silent for a moment. "Does he… Does Kol know about… everything?" He asked.

A wry smile worked its way onto your face. "Well, considering he kinda helped me get my mother arrested…"

Jeremy shifted his whole body to stare at you. "You're kidding!" 

"Nope."

"For real?"

You nodded, smirking. "She's going away for a long time."

"Y/N, that's amazing!" He exclaimed. He wrapped you in a hug and squeezed tight enough to crack a rib or two. Then he pulled away, frowning. "But if she's gone then why would you…" 

The kid trailed off and an understanding passed between the two of you before you even had to say the words. Yet, you said them anyway.

"I think our reasons aren't so different."

Jeremy's face hardened.

"Yeah, they are," He said. "I could'a sworn I just told you this."

"You did, and you're right. I don't know what it feels like to lose someone," You admitted. "But that's just because I've never had anyone to lose. No one… Nobody but you." Taking his hands in yours, you shifted to look him dead in the eyes. Your voice was quiet and strained and harsh, but it was meaningful. "Jeremy, you're the only one who's ever given a genuine damn about me. I don't wanna lose you! Please don't do that to me."

"I know you're scared, Y/N-" He started. You cut him off.

"No, you don't! You don't know!" You laughed mirthlessly. "You have no idea what it's like to be on the other side of the bars!"

His brows drew together as if pulled by some invisible needle and thread."What are you-"

You sighed, closing your tear-filled eyes.

"Heaven knows I've never been very human - o-or maybe it was just that I was never very good at being human - not on my own, at least. A-and I tried to be like other people, I swear I tried! But I'm just not. 

"I'm broken. I don't feel things right. The things that I do feel make no sense to me. I don't understand right from wrong. I think it's funny to hurt people and the only thing that's stopped me from doing something awful - from doing exactly what every doctor, and every shrink, and every gossiping PTA mom said I was gonna do, from hurting someone so bad they don't get better, from rigging a match in the gas tank of my mother's car and letting it burn the whole bloody street down, from going absolutely insane - is YOU! It was only ever you! Don't you get it?!" You were yelling now, but you didn't care. This was something you felt in your bones and it wasn't something you would have had the capacity to feel or express if you'd been human. He had to know how much you cared about him. "You were always the most human part of me, Jeremy Gilbert! Human or vampire it doesn't matter, because I was always a monster on my own and I'll always be a monster without you!"

You'd wanted to say those words for years - wanted to say that feeling for years - and now, finally, the truth was out there. It was spilled all over the floor of the Gilbert lake house and you couldn't take it back.

Jeremy stared at you, speechless. "That-that's not true…" His voice trailed off because he knew. He knew it was.

"Yes, it is." You sniffed, trying for a smirk that ended up looking something more like a grimace. "You wanna know why it's so easy for me not to give in to the violent urges of vampirism? It's 'cuz they were always there! I've been fighting those same impulses my whole life! The only thing about me that's changed is the outside finally matches the inside. I was always this monster, Jer. I don't know how not to be."

The boy shook his head. "I refuse to believe that," He said. You couldn't help but snort.

"Says the one who should believe it the most!" You wiped your face on your sleeve and took some more pretzels. "You remember what I was like before you insisted on being my friend. Well, I'm still that way. Without you o-or Kol around, I'm always mad all the time - I'm frustrated and confused. You guys are the only ones who understand - who explain things to me. I've become entirely dependent on both of you and I know that's a weakness but…" You swallowed thickly, biting your tongue to put an end to your rambling. "I need you, Jeremy. I need you and I need Kol and I understand enough now to know that I need you in two entirely different ways… You're my brother - the only one I'll ever have."

He nodded, smiling. He was crying too. "And you're my sister, Y/N/N." He huffed a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you, his hold was firm but gentle. For just a moment, you thought he would make the right choice. You thought things would be okay. "But I have another sister too, and she needs me just as much," He whispered.

"Wait, what?" You reeled back like you'd been stung. "No!"

Jeremy seemed to realize he'd made a mistake with his words. "Y/N, I promise you I'll be fine!"

You shoved his chest, sending him crashing to the floor with more force than you intended as you climbed to your feet. That awful feeling - that despair - was building up inside of you again and this time, Kol wasn't there to help you. "No, no, no…" You shook your head, tugging at your hair. "No, you don't understand! You don't get it!" You screeched.

"Woah, Y/N! Calm down!" He tried to pacify you, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You shook him off.

"No, no, no! You can't promise me anything!" You shouted. 

"I can promise this! Why can't you just believe in me for once in your life?!" Jeremy scowled. "Elena does! Hell, even Damon thinks I have what it takes! Why don't you?"

You screamed in frustration, emotions pounded through your head faster than you could process them. "No! Shut up! Shut up about her! Shut up about both of them! Elena and Damon don't care about you. I DO!"

"Then prove it," He hissed.

"Why should I have to?" You demanded. "Why do you have to keep being stupid? This curse will make you just like me! Then you'll be gone, and I'll turn it off, and I'll never turn it back on again! Then they'll all win!" You would kill and maim and hurt and in doing so you would prove that everyone in town had been right about you all along. "Can't you see how hard I've tried! They shouldn't get to win! It's not fair!"

"They won't win if you don't let them! Just hold on, remember everything we've been through. My dad always told me - he said that memories are what give us the strength to fight for a better tomorrow," The Gilbert boy insisted. "You're strong, Y/N. All you have to do is remember and you'll be okay."

"No." You shook your head. "No, that's not something you get to ask of me!"

"Why the hell not?" He questioned. You could hear his jaw click shut as he clenched his teeth.

"Oh, come off it! You know Someone only asks a person to remember them when Someone knows that they're leaving - that they're not coming back," You explained, seething with barely contained anger and betrayal rattling around in your bones. "If you're leaving, don't ask me to remember you or what it was like to watch you go. That's not fair to me!"

"Guess what, Y/N?" Jeremy said, mockingly. "Life isn't fair! I had to watch every single person I've ever cared about die around me, helpless to stop it. So, you know what? Maybe it's your turn!"

You blinked and your entire demeanor changed on the flip of a dime, going from screaming and ranting like mad to calm and cool in a nanosecond - just like the snap of a rubber band. It wasn't something you hadn't done before, but you hadn't done it for a while - not since the fourth grade. Perhaps that was what scared him.

"Well that's too damn bad, 'cuz I refuse to let that happen." Your voice was devoid of emotion as you stared at him with eyes as cold and lifeless as the corpse to which they belonged. You were dead, after all. "You're gonna see the truth whether you want to or not, and if every resident of this awful hell-hole has to die for that to happen, then so be it."

All the color in Jeremy's face drained away. "Wait, Y/N/N. Don't do this…" You didn't respond. Instead, you just waited to see if he would change his mind. "Please, just stop now, before you do something you'll regret?"

He wouldn't change his mind. He refused to. Good thing you had a plan B in mind.

You tilted your head, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I don't see why I should," You claimed. "You're the one making the evil choice - not me. It's not your fault you just can't see it. That selfish hag you call a sister has blinded you to the truth, but don't worry -" You popped one last pretzel into your mouth. "- there's still time to fix you."

Then you left, shutting the door behind you. With a single-mindedness you'd never had the luxury of experiencing before, you raced back to that dingy bar where Kol had remained to prepare the backup plan. Throwing open the doors of the freezer, you were met with a rather pleasing sight.

Damon sat on a metal chair in the center of the room, almost as if he were glued to it. His hands were wrapped around what looked like a yardstick that was half impaled through his body. If the raven-haired Salvatore's body language was anything to go by, that makeshift stake must have been uncomfortably close to his heart and as such was likely to be causing him excruciating pain. His electric blue eyes were locked on Kol's, unable to look away though he was undoubtedly trying. The Original vampire stood over him, grinning like a cat does as it plays with a dying mouse.

"Very good, darling," Kol appealed, his voice was that honeyed, penetrating tone you'd come to associate with compulsion. "Now, stab yourself a little bit further."

Damon screamed as his own hands, having no choice but to obey, pushed the jagged wood closer to his heart. Blood seeped from the gaping hole in his chest and you found yourself tempted to smirk. His pain - his suffering - felt good, you realized. This man had hurt you, he deserved to hurt in return. That was only right. It may have been wrong to enjoy the agony on his face, but you found yourself caring less than you had before. Why should you bother yourself with feeling guilty? Why not just feel good? Was that so bad?

"Awww, Damon-bow-bayman, does that hurt?" You sneered, moving to stand beside Kol. He glanced up from his work.

"Ah! You're here!" He said. His smile fell just a little as he took in your narrowed eyes and the twitch at the corner of your mouth. "I take it things didn't go over too well with Jeremy, did they?"

You shook your head. "He misses his sister more than he remembers her and thinks that if he destroys himself, he can bring back a person who was never there in the first place," You observed coolly. You blinked and peered up at the boy who'd said he loved you. "We'll just have to fix that."

Kol nodded and leaned down. His arm circled your waist and he pressed a soft, tranquil kiss to your lips. Somehow you felt just a little bit better.

"We'll work on it," He promised with another kiss. "For now, however, you're just in time. I was just about to get started."

"If you're gonna… kill me… do it like a… man," Damon panted, in what was clearly a desperate attempt to keep up his self-imbued tough boy persona. His eyes flicked to you. "Or run… like the cowards… you are."

You glared at him, lips curling with disgust. "The greatest cowards are those who run from the truth," You hummed. Kol's hand stroked your side and you leaned into him.

"We don't want to kill you," Kol continued. You nudged him and he amended himself. "At least, I don't - not at the moment. I just want to make sure you can be compelled."

"I'm gonna rip out your spleen," Damon threatened. It was a little pathetic in his current state.

Kol laughed at his attempt. "You ought to be thanking me," He reasoned. "You don't really want the cure found. I mean, you fancy Elena! Even more now that she's a vampire, admit it!" He kicked a stray arm from the pile of corpses out of his way as he leaned over Damon's right shoulder. "The last vestige of her humanity is her annoying little brother Jeremy… and deep, deep down, I bet you want him dead, don't you?"

You made no move to speak up. You knew what Kol was doing.

You hadn't thought to include psychological warfare in your backup plan, but his method was certainly a welcome addition. Mixing the older Salvatore up in the head just a little would probably help the compulsion stick that much better.

"Nope." Damon tried to play off his moment's hesitation as exhaustion or snark but you saw through his act.

Kol smirked. "You're lying," He said, proceeding to shove Damon against that wooden stake via a friendly pat on the back. "I bet you'd just love to rip his head right off… and I'm gonna give you your wish." 

Damon blinked and shook his head as if he were trying to clear it. His gaze shifted to you as Kol returned and wrapped an arm around your waist again.

"What, aren't you gonna try and stop this psycho?" The raven-haired vampire demanded. His tone was odd - almost desperate yet half-hearted at the same time. "I thought you were supposed to be mini VanHelsing's bestie."

"I am." You shrugged. "But you're not."

"Yeah, and?" Damon huffed, wincing at the pain his slightest movement caused. "What game are you playing at, Emperor Palpatine?"

"I'm proving a point," You snapped.

"By letting your boyfriend murder Jeremy?"

"No. He's just here to make sure Jeremy sees you try." You smirked, eyes glinting like ice crystals under cold starlight.

Damon's eyes flew wide and he shook his head. "You are one heartless bitch," He spat.

"So I've been told." You glanced at Kol beside you. "Remember what I told you?"

He grinned. "Word for word." Kol stepped forward, kneeling down to look Damon in the eyes as he spoke with that tone like a dagger through silk. 

"You're not going to remember what I say, or the conversation that took place here once you leave. You're going to find Jeremy Gilbert and when you do, if you care about him and his well-being as a person completely independent of your love for Elena or compassion for her emotions, then you're going to clap him on the back and buy him - I dunno - a Sherly Temple or something. But if that's not the case, if you only care about his safety as an extension of Elena - if you would trade his life for hers or if you would wish him any sort of harm should he become an inconvenience for any reason - then you're going to kill him, for his curse puts Elena in danger and she's better off sad than dead. You know he's a liability, and you've always hated those, so you're going to hunt him and you're not going to stop until Jeremy is either dead or you've run him out of the state."

When he finished, you reached out and ripped the jagged stake from Damon's chest. "Go get 'em, tiger," You said, smiling pleasantly.

The compulsion wouldn't let him stay, but he lingered just long enough to regard you with arrogant distaste. "He's never gonna forgive you for this," Damon snarled. You tilted your head, expression blank. 

"He'll never know."

Damon took off and Kol slipped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your head. The two of you stood in silence while he just held you for a bit, understanding what you needed from him without requiring you to say a word.

"Are you ready to go now?" He asked a few minutes later, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Yeah," You said quietly. "You can split; go play innocent for your family."

He pulled away a bit and lifted your chin so you'd look up at him. "I wish I didn't have to leave you," He whispered. 

"I'll be fine."

"You're a liar." 

You hummed and nodded, resting your head on his chest. Spending the last few months with him hadn't detracted from the warmth you felt in Kol's presence. He still felt safe - just like a home was supposed to. You'd never had a real one of those before him - your closest substitute had been the Gilbert house but that home was never really yours. 

Kol was yours. His heart belonged to you.

"I'm gonna regret this for the rest of my life, aren't I?" You asked. Kol's fingers combed through your hair gently and he sighed. You knew he would answer honestly. He had made a promise never to lie to you and he kept it.

"You will for a while," He said, tracing your lips with his thumb. "But slowly you'll realize that you did the right thing. There are scales that measure good and bad deeds, Y/N. A few merciful lies will not outweigh the billions of souls that will be spared because of them."

You nodded slightly and Kol leaned down, brushing his lips over your cheek. 

"What else is hurting you?" He asked.

"Why did he choose her?" You whispered, achingly. "She's not even his real sister. What makes her more important than me?"

"I won't pretend to know, darling." He smoothed a hand over your back, rubbing circles that succeeded in comforting you. "But his choice does not diminish your value. You are everything you need to be and more, and though you may at times feel the opposite, I'll be here to remind you that you were never meant to be perfect." Kol brushed the hair away from your face with a smile and this look in his eyes - it was the same look that had been in your own when he'd taken you to see Niagara Falls. "No matter what storms may come, I will love you while I may and I will hold you until the last star in the universe grows cold," He said.

You smiled at him, thanking any deity out there that you'd found him. "I'll try my best to do the same."

He nodded, kissing your forehead. "Your best is enough." 

You sighed. "I know we have to leave, but I really don't want to."

"Why not?" He murmured.

"Because whatever happens next is gonna change things," You answered. "And I don't know if I'm ready for that change."

"Come on, love-" Kol chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "- This is where the fun begins."

You had to bite your tongue to keep from laughing. "Really? Star Wars?"

"What? I can have a little fun!"

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @blackswann-53098 @felinegrate Hey, if your name isn't on here and you requested to be tagged, send me a DM to let me know! Tumblr wouldn't let me tag some people and I'm really sorry about that...

[greatqueenanna]

Is Agnarr Portrayed Negatively?

Short answer...yea, kind of.

In the era of Frozen 2, we got quite a bit of backstory into Aganrr and Iduna. One thing that stood out the most was the push for Iduna to not only be a more active parent, but her portrayals were showing her to be more sympathetic towards Elsa and Anna.

This brings up a glaring issue that has been brought up many times by fans - is Agnarr meant to be the real source of the family's problems?

I do not believe that this is what we're supposed to take away from the story, but I do believe that certain choices made in his character arc were not fully explored and only half-done — creating a disdain for his character.

Frozen Era

"Elsa, what have you done!? This is getting out of hand!"

Above is the audience's very first introduction to Agnarr. He fearfully scolds Elsa, to which she responds in an anxious and sorrowful tone.

Later on, it is Agnarr that closes the gates and pushes for secrecy and separation, teaches Elsa "Conceal, don't feel", and gives her the gloves. This is Agnarr's legacy for the next six years.

What was also apparent in the first era of the franchise's life, was how a lot of the blame for Elsa's behavior as an adult was strangely targeted towards Elsa alone, while Agnarr's part was ignored.

I had written an earlier piece a while ago, about how Agnarr taught Elsa "Conceal it, don't feel it, don't let it show" as if Agnarr was talking about the magic itself, but Elsa had misinterpreted it to be "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know (put on a show)" to focus on her emotions—most likely due to her own fears.

While this was retconned in the F2 era, I do believe my initial analysis was correct. The writing team, for some reason, focused the blame on Elsa instead of talking about how Agnarr's choices affected her. This is supported by Anna's later lines toward Elsa —

"...And sisters. Elsa and I were really close when we were little. But then, one day she just shut me out, and I never knew why."

"More than you. All you know is how to shut people out."

"No. Why? Why do you shut me out?! Why do you shut the world out?! What are you so afraid of?!"

"Of course, none of this would have happened if she'd just told me her secret...ha...she's a stinker."

"You don't have to protect me I'm not afraid. Please don't shut me out again..."

Now, to be clear, I don’t believe that the writers purposefully did this to be malicious — instead, I believe that this was left over from the era when Elsa was meant to be a villain; when the story was focused on Elsa making her own mistakes. Then, because of the rocky development history and last-minute changes, some things were mistakingly left in; like the focus on Elsa being the main problem. But let’s get back to Agnarr himself.

Logistically speaking, Agnarr wasn't entirely wrong. He was faced with this situation he didn't understand and had no knowledge of. Putting Elsa in a safe and controlled environment where he can try and help her control her powers without anyone getting hurt was a sound plan. Agnarr does indeed love his children as well — he showed no fear toward Elsa's magic and was very gentle with her and Anna. All he wanted was to protect them.

The main problem however is that there is no conversation about Agnarr's questionable choices or his love for his daughters after the fact. Agnarr just sort of disappeared from the story, and instead becomes a source of disdain and confusion for fans.

Why wasn't Iduna held to this standard? To put it bluntly, Iduna was a non-character. She played no real role in the film and was literally just a recolor of Elsa's coronation model. Iduna in Frozen was meant to be a placeholder for a mother figure — not an actual character. Agnarr made all the choices, while Iduna just sort of stood there.

For the next six years, until F2 was released, this is what people's impression of Agnarr was — The father who made questionable choices but was never held responsible for any of them.

Frozen 2 Era

Frozen 2 chose to improve the situation, but the opinions towards how the writers handled it are mixed. I am of the opinion that they did well in terms of Elsa's trauma, but chose to sprinkle the rest (the parent’s backstories, Anna's trauma, and their apologies) across multiple platforms — which was a mistake. I talk more about this in my response to an anon here.

I feel that should’ve just focused on all these elements in the film itself, especially since it seems like in early concepts this was indeed the film’s main focus. It’s just sad that unless you read the side content, there’s a lot you’ll miss out on, and it’s not really known how much of this will actually be acknowledged. I write more on the subject in my Toughest Choices Analysis, going deeper into Agnarr and Iduna’s story (it seems that my final request of Anna actually seeing her parents acknowledge her, was realized in Polar Nights, which is great haha).

In this analysis, obviously, I'm going to focus a bit more on Agnarr, and mostly on how the film itself acknowledged him and his actions.

Frozen 2 gives us a bit more about why Agnarr feared magic (his father, the misunderstanding of the Northuldra) and why he took such extreme measures to protect Elsa. Then, we are given an emotional scene of Agnarr and Iduna risking their lives to fix their mistakes and help Elsa, which does give a little more sympathy toward Agnarr. This is followed by Anna telling Elsa that their choices were their own and that she is a gift. Then at this point, after being shown in memories, Agnarr’s story is done. Most of the film instead focuses on Iduna, which is a bit strange.

Frozen establishes (although, not directly as said above) that Agnarr was the one to make the decisions that affected Elsa — but then in F2, Iduna is the one to help Elsa heal, and becomes the main focus of F2's story throughout F2 content.

It's Iduna who writes the apology, it's Iduna who researched magic and decides to go to Ahtohallan, and it's Iduna who Ahtohallan chooses to represent when calling Elsa. Thus, it almost feels like Iduna has to be the one to fix Agnarr's mistakes.

This doesn't give the greatest representation of Agnarr, and kind of makes the issue of Agnarr becoming invisible to the story even worse. In Frozen, his mistakes are geared towards Elsa, while in F2, while his mistakes are now acknowledged, Iduna is the one to fix them, and the story is sprinkled between different platforms. This contributes to his negative representation.

Conclusion

Dangerous Secrets is the only content that really delves into Agnarr's position, and gives his backstory more meaning and depth. In the rest of the franchise, he is invisible. This is ultimately what contributes to audiences not liking him or feeling a sort of disdain for his character — I hope that in future installments, poor Agnarr can find some recognition as well.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Six Swans for a fairytale retelling?

I finally filled this prompt by writing "Without Words" as my story for the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge. Since I put the story in a separate post, I'm going to self-indulgently use this ask to provide some author's notes.

For quite a few years now, I've had the idea to retell the ending of this fairy tale from the prince's point of view. It's so dramatic! He's protected this woman for years, and had to be deeply in love to do so, and now he's faced with enough evidence that he has to put her to death. How do you deal with that? I fully intended to use his POV to fill this prompt, yet, every time I tried, I couldn't make it interesting enough to hold my attention.

Then a few weeks back, I had the image of the prince begging his wife to speak, while she had to stand strong and refuse, despite the pain it causes both of them. This became much more interesting (and easier to write as a short retelling), because the prince's conflict comes from not knowing, while her conflict comes from fully knowing what's going on and having to make the hard choice not to save herself.

From the first spark of this idea, the couple was named Eliza and Christian. Eliza because of Andersen's fairy tale, of course, and Christian because Andersen's tale is Danish, and Denmark has had ten kings named Christian. His name became even more thematically fitting when I decided to write this story for the Inklings Challenge.

I debated whether I should retell the "Six Swans" version where the heroine is accused of killing her three children, or the "Wild Swans" route where she's just accused of witchcraft. The witchcraft charge is enough to condemn her to death, is more directly related to her task, and makes her story parallel her stepmother's better. However, the missing children angle made this much more painful and implied a stronger bond between the two of them. They're not only married, but they've had three children together! He's protected her against two different accusations of murder! The fact that he's been so supportive up to this point makes it even more dramatic when he finally is forced to execute her.

It does seem a bit ridiculous that he's let this go on long enough to lose three children, but that just adds to the drama of the moment. Christian knows Eliza well enough that he doesn't believe she could kill their children, but after three murders, the evidence is getting harder and harder to explain away, and even the king has to obey the law, so he signed the execution order to prevent rebellion from his government.

If I hadn't written that opening scene, I'd probably be rolling my eyes at some of the language--"the way our souls entwine"? Really? Who talks like that? But sometimes you just gotta write something very, very sappy. It's good for the soul. And I have a good excuse because I posted on Valentine's Day.

On a structural level, my favorite line in the story is probably, "Does the prisoner have any last words?" I was struggling with how to transition between Eliza musing about Christian and her brothers to the moment of breaking the curse, when that line of dialogue occurred to me, and the scene fell into place. It's a standard line for this type of scene, while tying in perfectly to the specific conflict here. Plus, it stops the guards from tying up Eliza long enough to keep her arms free for shirt-throwing.

This story taught me a lot about how to strategically use telling vs. showing. The standard points of the fairy tale--the breaking of the curse, the reunion with her brothers, the mother-in-law's crime, and the recovery of the children--are all told, rather than shown, because this story is about the bond between Eliza and Christian, and stopping to show anything else distracts from that. Like, I had tried to show the brothers explaining about the curse and the lost children, but that tangled me up in the logistics of the scene, and made me drop the thread of Eliza and Christian's relationship. Reducing it to summary allowed me to keep the focus where it needed to be.

I am sad I had to push her brothers so far into the background. That family bond is such an important part of the fairy tale, but the story's focus means I only get to name one brother.

Usually, one of the youngest brothers is stuck with the swan's wing, but I gave it to the eldest, because 1) I wanted to be different, 2) In the limited space, it allowed me to feature both her eldest brother and the swan wing brother at the same time, 3) giving the wing to the crown prince creates much more interesting conflict.

Retellings that give the youngest brother the wing usually go on and on about how he's torn between his ordinary human life and the freedom of life as a swan, and that's so whiny and boring to me. Giving it to the eldest brother, however, has concrete political consequences. He's crown prince! Will the people accept a king with the permanent mark of a curse? Can he leverage this imagery to his advantage? Now that he's lost his dominant hand (I made sure to make it as inconvenient as possible), he can neither write nor hold a sword, which could have profound effect on his reign. Giving him the wing could be a bit like Rabadash's curse in The Horse and His Boy--something that forces him to prioritize peace--especially since I've written him as a bit of a war-monger. Even with his limited amount of page-time, he fascinates me, and I'd kind of like to see where his story goes.

With the brothers so blithely talking about going home and taking Eliza with them, I imagine that in the interim of seven years, events have transpired that have eliminated the stepmother as a threat. Going home is just going home to a beloved father, not going to war.

Initially, I had wanted Eliza's first spoken word to be her husband's name. When that proved to be impractical in the execution scene, I considered giving her no dialogue, to prove that she doesn't need words to be a force in the story. Making her one word of direct dialogue be her husband's name felt like the perfect compromise.

In offering to let Eliza take the children, Christian is really being reckless. He blithely talks of transferring the crown, but any one of his kids--who he's offering to let grow up in a foreign country--could one day decide to take advantage of their valid claim to the throne to try to take over his kingdom. He's really lucky that Eliza forgave him.

Portraying the final kiss as "I let my silence speak for me", was not intentionally inspired by Gaskell's habit of referring to kissing scenes as "delicious silence", but I'm kind of pleased by the connection.

I'm proud of that final line. Ties everything up so neatly and concisely.

[michaelgruberfan]

"Michael and Tony: How the Theater That Brought Them Together Continues to Help Them Grow"

lavendermagazine's (X) published on September 21, 2023 by Buer Carlie

When Michael Gruber and Tony Vierling met up with me for a late morning coffee at Groundswell in Saint Paul, I expected our conversation would center mostly around their relationship and Chanhassen Dinner Theatre’s current production of Jersey Boys. We talked at length about their partnership (two alpha males who only fight when they’re trying too hard to be considerate), and delved deep into so much more, including Chanhassen Dinner Theatre’s (CDT) Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives.

Gruber and Vierling both have long histories in theater. Gruber spent over 20 years living and performing in New York City where he performed in multiple Broadway shows. Vierling began acting professionally when he was twelve. His resume includes over 45 CDT productions, a couple National Tours, and more.

The two met while performing in the 2007 CDT production of Easter Parade. “They decided to cast the lead [for Easter Parade] out of the New York because they thought it was going to be a big deal,” says Vierling, “[Michael] got cast and I was in the ensemble.” 

What began as a professional relationship became a friendship and then one night Gruber took Vierling out to dinner and said what might be one of the most romantic things I’ve heard outside of a romance novel:

“I’m beginning to feel covetous of you.”

Sixteen years later the two are married and have a beautiful home in Minneapolis. They have performed in many of the same productions, which allows them the unique experience of connecting artistically and professionally in addition to their romance. 

Their career highlights were often their co-starring roles. Holiday Inn and Singing in the Rain are two of their favorite productions. “I did six productions of Singing in the Rain,” says Gruber, “The last production I got to do with Tony at the Ordway. It was so meaningful to finish that chapter of my life with him.”

CDT has a special place in the pair’s hearts since it is the setting to their meet cute, but their fondness for the theater runs deeper than that. CDT offers a stability and package of benefits that is rare in the industry. Among other things “we’re the only theater in the United States to have language in our contract to protect reproductive rights and transgender healthcare,” says Vierling.

This unique benefits package reflects the values that CDT is holistically integrating in its organization – both behind the scenes and in front of the curtain. CDT’s DEI council has introduced the option for cast members to include their pronouns in their bios and makes sure that non-binary and trans actors are in the dressing room where they are the most comfortable.

“We’ve seen a lot of representation showing up on stage with genderfluidity and body size and shape and age and more BIPOC performers,” says Vierling, “It makes it a great place to work.” 

“What’s amazing is…it’s making the product better,” says Gruber. Gruber points out casting choices in Footlooseand The Prom, specifically highlighting Lynnea Doublette and Maya Richardson as his character’s wife and daughter in Footloose. “They’re trying to bring these stories and this diversity to the stage in a smart, intelligent way that enhances the storytelling.”

There have been obstacles, beginning with the notorious cancellation of Cinderella. “They had cast Cinderella before the pandemic,” explains Vierling, “It was a primarily white cast and [after the pandemic and George Floyd] they said let’s come back with something else and let’s cast it in a different way.”

Safe spaces sometimes earn eyerolls these days, but Gruber and Vierling – both of whom have been out for most of their lives – have found that the environment fostered at CDT has made them more comfortable with themselves. Additionally, young actors have inspired the pair to rethink how vocal they are about their identities. Gruber mentions Sayer, a trans actor from Next to Normal who is vocal about his identity. “If he can be up there living his authentic life, then so can I at 58 years old.” 

“It could change a kid’s life,” says Vierling, “A kid could see us and say: I want that. I want to be happy I want to be married. I want to have a career. I want to have a place where I can be myself.”

The current production of Jersey Boys, a jukebox musical about The Four Seasons, might not immediately scream DEI, but CDT hopes that by continuing to offer standard musical theater choices, their patrons will give productions like The Prom a chance as well. 

“Jersey Boys isthe best juke box musical,” says Vierling, “Even if you didn’t grow up with the music you’ve heard it in a million places. We’re kind of small players, but it’s fun to be a part of and the four guys are so good.”

“The venue is so intimate,” says Gruber, explaining that they had tried to capture an Arthur Miller aesthetic for this production. 

“In our theater the people are bigger and the frame is smaller,” says Vierling.

“It helps the actors become the forefront.”

The pair are being literal, but it feels like the metaphor to go out on. 

Michael Gruber and Tony Vierling found each other in this intimate theater in Chanhassen in 2007. Years later they have built a life together and this theater, which spotlights its actors in a way that only a small venue can, has given them the space to not only find themselves, but to encourage others to do the same.

[viscerism]

Wanna hear you talk about your aus so much, whichever one you want to tell more about. Also, would still love to read about your bsd oc if you ever feel like it ^_^

I WILL TELL YOU ABOUT MY AUS

well. one of them because my bsd/doom au still makes absolutely no sense and i'm honestly still kind of embarrassed about it, but no doubt i will shove it in everyone's faces the moment i figure out how to make it work and abandon what's left of my dignity.

anyway the way more fleshed out (but just as self-indulgent) one is the same kind of au that pops up in every fanbase ever: zombie apocalypse. however, my au focuses on just a few central characters—oda's kids. (more explanation under the cut because it is kind of long)

the basic concept is that the five kids (aged up a few years for realism's sake as i highly doubt a bunch of children 9 years and younger would last long on their own) were being taken care of and protected by odasaku after shit hit the fan. they were hiding out in the upper floor of a small apartment complex that oda had spent a lot of time reinforcing and making somewhat habitable again. although he spent as much time as possible with them, he was forced to leave them for short periods (half a day at the absolute most) on their own so he could go on runs for supplies. because no way in hell was he going to be taking them outside and endangerin them like that. oda's a damn talented fighter, but even he'd struggle to protect five children and himself if a horde was suddenly alerted. so, he spent a lot of the time that they were stuck inside teaching them how to defend themselves and what to do if shit went sideways and he wasn't there. as weeks passed and resources within the vicinity began to dwindle, oda had to leave more and more frequently and for longer and longer periods of time in order to scrape together enough supplies to support the six of them. it became clear pretty quickly that he had a choice to make. he stays here with them in the area, and they starve to death, he attempts to travel a long distance with five children (meaning frequent stops so they can rest but he'd have to keep alert, leaving him exhausted and unfocused after days), or he leaves them here and travels further out to find resources to bring back. with no vehicle or fuel, oda knew the only way they'd survive is if he went out on his own and left them for a bit. and so, he prepared a small amount of rations to keep himself functioning and he made sure they had enough food and water to last them for a couple of weeks, though he hoped he'd be back in about a week or so. he talked with them about what he had to do, and that he'd be back as soon as possible. this was met with a lot of objection from the kids, though it was to no avail. he gave kōsuke one of his guns (just in case) and his coat, told them to take care of eachother and left.

despite their reluctance (kōsuke especially), they stayed put for as long as they could hold out. kōsuke went full big brother mode and took the lead while their dad was absent. he tried to keep track of food and water and assigned chores to everyone—both to keep the place decently habitable and to keep themselves busy and not worry so much about oda—that they rotated between themselves. it was as organized as a group of 9-14 year-olds could make it. it went on for a week. then two. then a full month. and there was no sign of their caretaker. and kōsuke began to stress more and more as the days went by and the cans on the shelf became fewer and fewer. it showed, and his little siblings began to take note. it was clear that something happened. it was taking way longer than it should have. and at this rate, they were going to run out of food. so, after a lot of debating and discussion, they made a decision. they had to go out and look for him, and find some supplies to keep them alive while they were at it. so, they crammed whatever they could bring into a couple of school backpacks and armed themselves with the single pistol and whatever other objects they could use as weaponry (a wooden baseball bat, a pipe they struggled to rip out of the wall, a shower curtain rod, etc.). and they left.

that's the basic premise of it! i want to make a post that goes more into detail about the type of zombies they're working with (because as your resident medical nerd i have to talk about the kind of pathogen and how it affects the human body) as well as my personal headcanons about the kids' personalities. honestly, the main reason i came up with this au is because i want to explore ideas about the kiddos more without the distraction of more major characters. considering how little canon and fanon content there is of them, i felt the need to come up with my own way of doing that, and here it is! like i said, i'm definitely going to go more in detail about my ideas later. i've already got some concept art (can you really even call it that? idk) in progress and i might even write a fic about it (in spite of my god-awful writing skills) or draw a comic (if i have the patience). but who knows. anyway thanks so much for your ask, and i'm glad you found interest in my weird aus! as for my oc, i'll probably make another post about him since this one is already way way too long lmao.

[fatefulfaerie]

Words Of Old

A happy birthday to @ashleyyyxlauren !!! I hope you like it!

“With this sword I hence avow a warrior’s promise, a soldier's sacrifice.”

Zelda awoke to words of the past, blinking her eyelids open as Link’s sleepy voice echoed dry into the open night air.

“I swear my life to servitude, with nothing short of aptitude, to her I give my blood, my last breath, my dying epitaph.”

It fell somewhere between a loud whisper and a quiet mumbling, Link uttering words from a memory he didn’t have, a memory deep in his subconscious and once thought lost.

“Link,” Zelda said as she crawled over from her bedroll, shaking his shoulder. “Link.” She didn’t want to hear it, the words that haunted her, that tortured, beat and killed him in Blatchery Plains. She never wanted to hear those words again, and yet here they were, indoctrinated, embedded, and imprinted into his mind more than even the name of his mother or his own favorite color. Despite Zelda’s promptings, he didn’t budge, only rolling to his side.

“To her I give my life, with no concern for mine, for her form has divinity that I only hold the hilt of.”

The promises Link made to the court, the King, the princess, six dignitaries, five advisors, and four champions a hundred years ago were ones she hoped would stay there.

“Link!” She had raised her voice, and he awoke with a shudder, a sharp gasping inhale as his blue eyes popped open.

“Zelda?” He asked half-awake, scanning her as he sat up in his bedroll. He squinted his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” Zelda hesitated, shaking her head. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“Sorry,” Link said, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it…it’s what you were saying,” Zelda said. “Your old oaths, word for word. It was…”

She let in a shaky breath.

“It was a lot.”

Link blinked away a blank gaze a couple times before nodding in understanding. The sound of his breaths sweeping through his lungs was frankly exhilarating to Zelda. She once thought him dead, pressed her ears to his still chest and heard nothing of a beating heart.

“You don’t still intend to hold those oaths, do you?” She asked with hope he wouldn’t, wouldn’t feel obligated to her, would believe the word that so pointedly made her the superior of the two. She never wanted that.

“I don’t remember them,” Link said. “Honestly, I don’t.”

Zelda denied her gaze.

“They are in there somewhere,” Zelda said. “They must still carry some weight. If you are going to continue on remembering your way back into subservience, then I don’t want that for you. I’d rather you have forgotten me than to remember that, absorb that, inhibit that. I was selfish to want you to remember the past. I shouldn’t have—”

Link snickered. Zelda looked up and he full-on chuckled, it soon turning into an outright laugh. She’d never heard him laugh so candidly.

“It’s not funny!” Zelda insisted.

“You’re cute.”

“I am not cute!” She exclaimed. “This is a serious matter!”

“Sorry, I just didn’t even know subservience was a word.”

“Link…” She began to argue lightly. He took both of her hands.

“So, those things are in my subconscious, so what? It’s probably because I once had to memorize them. But guess what? I don’t remember them, neither do I want to. I don’t remember specifics like that, mostly emotions, emotions I feel now too.”

Zelda took a deep breath as she stared into his eyes. His azure eyes evoked with no apology, love and regard. It was frankly startling, as she remembered those same eyes being so still, so cold, only burgeoning and breaching emotions he was trying to hide. This was unabashed and raw, untamed like the wild.

“I don’t want to serve you as a knight attendant anymore,” Link explained. “That was a different life with different circumstances and a different string of resulting choices. Right now I choose differently. Right now we’re just a couple of Hylians, trying to figure some things out. We’ll be there for each other and protect each other, but not because of any century-long obligation or kingdom-ascribed divinity but because we genuinely care about each other…” Link realized he was speaking for her, assuming, “a-at least I think we do.”

“We do,” Zelda said with a smile.

[dereksmcgrath]

There, we are progressing the Damian family plot and giving Yor her own cast of characters, progression, and moments to be awesome and awkward. Are we all happy now?

And I’m jumping right into spoilers, so read the chapter first before proceeding.

Spy x Family, Chapter 65. By Tatsuya Endo, translation by Casey Loe, lettering by Rina Mapa. Available from Viz.

As usual, I remain oblivious to a plot twist coming, or a detail that is probably obviously telegraphed that I just wasn’t noticing. 

In retrospect, Yor’s new friend should obviously have been recognized as Damian’s mother, Melinda. Yes, we never saw her before, not even in Damian’s memories of home. But her wealth and her fixation on a “patriotic” women’s group were clues, and she really does resemble Damian, down to her eyelashes. (This is how you draw characters with limited family resemblance, not engaging in the “same face” problems of, say, Fate or “Death the Kid was Shinra Kusakabe’s spiritual grandson all along” crap.) Even Melinda’s earrings, with the eye motif (more like an Illuminati triangle), invokes the eye motif around WISE’s symbol and Donavan Desmond’s owl motif. 

But the major hint that I was missing was that we start this chapter with Anya talking about Damian, Yor worried about Anya befriending Damian–and then I get distracted by the funny hijinks of Yor’s panic over being a good parent, then shopping, now a volleyball contest, to remember, “Oh, yeah, we did talk about Damian at the beginning of this chapter,” before, surprise, this is Melinda Desmond, Damian’s mother. 

I also should have sensed that this was Damian’s mother, given the foreboding nature to this seemingly polite and “nice” person that I sensed just in the undercurrent. Keeping her eyes obscured for so long reinforced that worry, to the point that I thought this was actually Twilight’s handler in disguise. But after the last six years of seeing “nice” white people deciding they were fine with fascism and bigotry so long as their rightwing anti-abortion fuckwads got into elected office (especially the 55 percent of white women who voted to that orange Nazi), of course this white woman enjoying wealth, access, and a “patriot” group is firing off every last red alert in my brain, beyond the historical allusions made to Cold War Germany. 

But enough of the serious stuff that reminds us that the United States is still heading towards fascism if people don’t vote (fucking register to vote at this link and go vote for Democrats–Jesus Christ, what other rights do Republicans have to take away and Democrats have to protect for you to figure this out?).

Let’s talk about what good this chapter did with Yor. 

A complaint I’ve had, that I don’t think I’ve shared on this blog yet, is how Spy x Family was going to have a challenge giving Yor enough attention when her first major arc in the manga isn’t until too late to get adapted in the first half of the season. That’s not ignoring excellent stories for Yor in that first half, such as protecting Anya from the kidnappers. But so much of the later part of the manga does more to progress her character, including the cruise ship arc and her reaction to Twilight’s work relationship with Nightfall. 

Despite this challenge, CloverWorks and Wit Studios made sure that the first half of the season would expand Yor’s role, including in the dodgeball episode. And I wonder whether those adaptation choices influenced how Endo plotted out this chapter, not only for how to stage sports scenes but also to direct focus back to Yor and her desires to improve as a mother. After all, Yor’s training of Anya in dodgeball looks a lot like her performance with volleyball in this chapter, including the destruction her blows deliver, with some definitely unbelievable but still hilarious instances of superhuman strength that sends the volleyball into orbit–and no one in this cast allows that to get in the way of enjoying Yor’s company. It is such a bizarre moment, to suspend disbelief here, but it works, because the characters just accept it and move on. (I know I should only allow myself one instance of dunking on it, but this is how you justify cartoonish moments, Fire Force, not wrapping up your series with plodding exposition.)

This chapter also provided some new reaction images for Yor, especially her Cat in the Hat-style balancing act with Melinda’s purchases, or when lost in the mall and panicking in front of the makeup vendor. (I’m surprised we didn’t re-enact Wonder Woman choking that mall makeup vendor in the Justice League cartoon.) But I did think the translation, or maybe the original text, stretched the gag about Yor fearing “piercing eyes.” Then again, not every gag can be a “swole chihuahua.” 

The transition to the sports hall for volleyball was also an awkward one, but it did keep the plot moving, and it’s not unbelievable that Yor would get roped into the game. I just wish there was a little more dialogue beyond Melinda’s assistant Nola saying this game would be an additional “reward” for saving her. Plus, as I said, Yor’s ferocious gameplay, as well as her teammates’ rather subdued annoyance at her style of play, provided some pleasant memories of the volleyball bout in The Way of the Househusband. 

Of course, the game is an action beat to allow the dialogue-heavy conversation that follows to help Yor realize she has made friends, that she is able to appear “normal,” that her challenges in being a wife and a mother are to be expected (although, jeez, Yor, learn how to cover up better beyond “more or less” when asked if you’re married) so that, after this lull, we are surprised to learn Melida’s identity. Now to wait for the next chapter to see whether Melinda’s presence helps Twilight’s mission, helps Anya befriend Damian–or whether Melinda is also on the same page as her husband when it comes to war, or perhaps is ahead of him in fomenting war.

Random Asides: 

It’s been awhile since I wrote about Spy x Family, huh?

Is this the first chapter to have the Spy x Family logo feature the silhouettes of the Forger family forming the “M”? 

I feel like I am missing chapters: was there an instance of Damian promising cake that I’m forgetting, or is Anya just lying? Because if she’s lying, that’s a weird choice on her part, after that one chapter where she realized how much her parents and uncle lied–and it did them no good. 

We’re going to get a ton of shipping art between Yor and Melinda, aren’t we? 

Shameless plug: I set up a Twitch account to, among other things, live-read new manga releases…and then failed to hit record until 20 minutes into the stream and when I was done talking about One Piece…and had my Internet fail and not retain any of the clips…while it takes my Internet forever to upload what I did record to YouTube. …Yay…

[topguncortez]

g reviews:

June First by Jennifer Hartmann

page count: 464

genre: slow burn, forbidden love, murder/suicide, smut, adopted sibling relationship, death, grief, attempted assault, childhood friends to lovers, emotional trauma.

Want to know what happens to a man who barely claws his way out of a tragedy, only to fall right into the arms of the one girl in the world he can never have? Another tragedy, that's what. When I was six years old, my father made a choice that altered the course of my entire life. Because of what he did, the only girl I ever loved became the only girl I couldn’t have. In a lot of ways, I did have her… I had her first steps, her first words, her first smile. I had her milestones, her heartbreaks, her dreams. I had her heart so woven in with mine, I didn’t know where she ended, and I began. Only, as the years pressed on, lines became blurred—and the blurrier the line, the easier it is to cross. They say tragedy comes in threes. For me, that was true. The first one changed me, the second one broke me, and the third one healed me. But at the center of all that tragedy… there is a love story. And at the center of that love story, There is June.

This book had me in tears.

I knew through booktok that Jennifer Hartmann's books are tearjerkers, that's her speciality. And I don't cry very easily, so I was up for a challenge.

But my god, I was not expecting the heartbreak and angst and grief that this poor kid goes through in his life.

The book starts out with two little boys, Brant and Theo. Brant is the six year old little boy who lives with his mom, Caroline, and dad, next door to Theo Bailey. It's a normal end of May Day, and Theo is telling Brant that his mom is about to go have a baby. Brant is excited for Theo because there is nothing more than Brant wants than to be a big brother. To be a protector. That night Brant tells his mother the exciting news about Mrs. Bailey's new baby and how he wished he could be a big brother. Brant's mom tells him that maybe, when they get away, they can get that dog that he's been talking about. Caroline tells Brant as she tucks him in that tomorrow is June first, and June always felt like a fresh start. Brant goes to bed that night dreaming of bluebirds and rainbows.

However that dream is quickly turned into a nightmare.

In an instant Brant's life is turned upside down by the death of his mother at the hands of his father, and his father who was too much of a coward to deal with the consequences. six year old Brant finds them both right next to each other in the living room.

Since that night, Brant was taken in by the Baileys, suddenly becoming a brother to Theo, and to baby June, who was born on that tragic night. Brant immediately feels like he has to protect June from all the bad in the world. All the monsters that lurk in the dark. Anything and everything that might hurt her. He repeats back, to a two month old June one night, the last words his mother ever said to him: "I will always protect you"

The Bailey siblings and Brant grow up right along side each other in this beautiful coming of age story. It goes through the heartbreak of losing someone in an instant, the grief of trying to move on, and how you can't control who you love, but you can control who hurts you.

This book was so beautiful, I could hardly put it down. It is packed full of all the emotions. It had me gasping, hurting, confused, crying, laughing, (shaking my head a little bit). It's one of those books that once you pick it up, you don't want to put it down. These two go through so much in their lives that you just hope and pray for the best to come for them.

My biggest caution is that this book is not for the faint of heart. For all intents and purposes, these two are siblings. There's a legal document that says that Brant and June are adopted siblings, and that line gets blurred. I think that Jennifer handled that topic very well, because it does happen. It's not uncommon for it happen. It taboo and a bit dirty and weird, but it happens. You can sense the carefulness, and the maturity in the theme of the book when Brant and June do start their relationship. Jennifer goes about it all very carefully and handles it in a way that you don't feel like "oh my god that's disgusting". There's a thin line to walk when writing a topic such as this, and I believe that it was done rather well.

G's rating: 9/10

also, here is me when I finished the book so you don't think I'm lying. I was in tears.

[rocket-69]

Ramshackle: 01 - Honey

A tall man in a brown leather jacket walked down Main Street, waving to the citizens of Ramshackle. Jack* adjusted the six-pointed sheriff star pin above his breast pocket and shined it just a little. A simple star for a simple town, but still he was proud of it. He nodded and winked to one of the younger lady street vendors with her mother, salt and peppered with middle age.

“G’mornin’ Penny, Mrs. Cabrera.”

Penny looked up, her eyes wide at being called. Her mother elbowed her gently and handed her a couple of honey sticks to give Jack with a smile. Penny flashed a pleading look to Mrs Cabrera but then quickly took them from her mother and stood up.

“Good morning, sir.” Penny handed the honey over as her eyes lowered, distracted by the badge.

“Are those for me? Aw shucks, you shouldn’t have,” Jack’s teeth glisten. Penny’s eyes had trouble meeting his, though they would flick back quickly when she remembered. Her cheeks flushed, lips pouted with a strong pink tint against her tan skin. As Jack picked her apart in his head, his smile never broke. His blue eyes hid behind the protection of his sunglasses.

Penny dipped her head in a small bow, something picked up from the Asians no doubt.

“Why thank you, Penny.” Jack took the honey sticks and used his teeth to pop one side and start sucking the honey down. “Delicious as ever.” He stopped his patrol a moment to savor his free gift.

Penny turned the corners of her lips into a smile, pushed on by her mother.

“You’re a little shy, aren’t you Penny?” Jack tipped his cowboy hat toward Mrs Cabrera.

Penny’s face flushed red, stronger with her freckles. She laughed. “Mom’s always telling me I should make more friends.” Her voice pitched high and held there.

Jack laughed too.

“Welp, I gotta be back on my beat. See you ladies ‘round.” He winked again at Penny, then nodded gentlemanly to Mrs Cabrera for the last time. “Let me know if anyone causes you any trouble.”

Penny nodded hastily. “Yessir.”

Mrs Cabrera smiled.

Penny, or Lizard Deathshadow to xir friends, shook xir head like an etch-a-sketch. Xe caught a glance of Charlie and Spike turn a corner away from xem, and swung xir gaze straight up to the sky.

-----

The open sky hung over the nestled bowl Benji and Roy** raised Ada in. Scavenging was not the choice livelihood of most people in Ramshackle- shearing sheep, spinning wool into felt and yarn, knitting socks, tanning leathers into armor, or even just farming are all painfully labor intensive, but at least usually there’s some kind of yield. Junk’s value in the wasteland’s overstated. Hundreds-of-years-old clothing is fragile, often crumbling, broken down, eaten by moths or other bugs in the hope of gaining any kind of nutrition. In spite of shocking preservative techniques of the prewar, most food is also barely dust in the hands of a wastelander but still somehow stunk to high heaven. And as if that wasn’t enough, it was also always drier than the moon and about as nutritious.

Scavvers who spend too much time in their dark little holes will come out with a salvaged four hundred year old gun, an obsession in their eyes that’s only marginally better than the car nuts. At least they can sometimes get their guns to shoot, even if not straight. Don’t get any scrapper talking about weapons. Not a lot of good ‘perfectly functional’ laser rifles or ratslayers do without oil and plastic parts specially made for those models. Of course, if that’s a problem with weapons, then it’s also a problem with vehicles. Or so the knights say, as they take such inconveniences out of regular folks’ hands.

But in Ramshackle, the Brotherhood payed a drifter’s hard work not in the scrap they pull up, but the hours they delve. Scavenging was a job that people who weren’t there often or only there for a few seasons could go for. It’s a job that always had openings. Scavenging was for drifters. Nomad types.

Benji and Roy stood by the shoe tree, a long dead, dried out, remote husk. On every branch, every arm and finger, shoes hung. Hundreds. Thousands. Heels. Sneakers. Boots. Bound there and stiff from the desert’s elements. The drifters around the two of them shuffled about, signing in on a salvaged clipboard nailed to the shoe tree. A small shack was built next to the tree for use by the scavengers, stowing helmets, brightly colored vests, and loaner tools.

They sipped from a shared canteen, waiting on the paladin that’d be supervising them today. A few years back, a radscorpion had erupted from a junk pile burrow*** so now scavengers were given a babysitter- a guard.

The paladin was late.

Just as the two of them were looking to the rest of the scavengers to see if they wanted to head back to town, a white shape started down the mountainside. It made its way down a dirt road, trying to bring something large with it. It took shape as it got closer, a paladin in whitewashed† power armor walking an empty trailer back from sledding down the side of the hill. They watched him struggle with it, unable and, if they were honest, unwilling to help him. That suit of armor provided the hydraulic assistance required to wear it, but it also enabled the paladins who wore them to lift things most people could not.

Benji stowed the canteen and Roy put on his scavenging gloves, passing his husband’s pair over once his hands were free. The two of them poked into the shack, selecting the best of the helmets before the other drifters- who were captivated by the suit of armor currently. He was rolling a boulder away from the Sieve Mineshaft, the current focus after someone found some old mechanical parts deep in there, instead of the usual consumer good.

The landscape around Ramshackle was littered with dumps of home goods unconsumed by those who came before. How a world of such plenty could have suffered shortages and rationing spoken of by ghouls and collected histories confused Benji sometimes, thinking that just taking the discarded junk while it was still serviceable would have been of more use. But these thoughts usually ended as soon as the walk home with Roy brought them back to Ada and dinner.

“My name is Paladin Roland Furioso. I will be ensuring all your safety today, barring the standard dangers. I trust you all have had your tetanus shots? If not, my scribe Oliver will inoculate you with the vaccines we’ve produced.”

*Sheriff Jackalope “Jack” McNulty was born a third generation vault dweller, and as such never wore a blue and yellow one-piece suit, but still grew up with the habits his grandparents handed down. An avid recycler, an affection for tight interior spaces, and one of the few who still wore a pipboy.

**Short for Corduroy. His father loved embroidery. Benji is not short for Benjamin. It’s long for Ben.

***Or so the rumors went.

† A heat reflecting tactic. It is not said out loud, but many of the Lahontan Brotherhood Chapter’s power armor rigs have failing secondary hardware- including the cooling systems. Painting the armor white mitigates most of the heat absorbed over the course of one day, after which the paladin exits the armor and exposes the internals to broader air circulation. And usually takes a shower.