#one of the hardest things i’ve ever done oddly enough

[boneappletits]

officially deleted discord

[skyward-floored]

I’m hurting myself (hdw au)

“Link, I...”

“Are you ashamed of me?” he asks, hating the way his throat tightens. “Am I just a dirty secret you’re trying to bury?“

Impa looks stricken. “No, no Link listen, it’s complicated—”

His anger boils. “You always say that! You’ve been saying that from day one!” Link snaps, and Impa stiffens. “You explain and explain and explain and yet you never actually tell me what I want to know! Would you just listen to me?”

“Link, please—”

“I just want to know why you didn’t want me!”

Impa stares, and Link looks away from her as tears blur his vision.

The clearing goes quiet.

“I won’t apologize for wanting to understand,” Link says, not allowing his voice to waver, even though it tries its hardest to. “I just want to know. Why I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Impa doesn’t reply, and Link blinks some of the tears from his eyes, still not looking at her.

A soft crunching sound crosses the forest clearing where they stand, footsteps that would be silent apart from all of the leaves coating the ground. They pull to a stop in front of him, but Link still doesn’t look, feeling oddly afraid.

Then Impa takes his chin in her hand and tilts it towards her, meeting his gaze with heartbreak written all over her face.

“Link. The moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were the best thing that had ever happened to me,” she whispers, voice raw. “Giving you up was one of the worst decisions I have ever had to make. I... words are not my strong suit. But I never stopped loving you, Link. I’ve done my best from a distance, but I know it wasn’t enough.”

She breathes out, the sound shuddering.

“And I am so sorry. For not doing more. I was only trying to protect you.”

[libertys-lovers]

Hello, hello! :D *gently places [Cool off 🍹], [Shaved ice 🍧] and [Fishies 🐠] on the counter*

I'm placing an order for Sparkling and Roguefort cookie, though the other cookies are MORE than welcome to join♡

OOOHOOHOOOOO!!! Look at YOU being willing to buy drinks for the entire bar! I think I’ll just let Sparkles and Rogue join me for this round, though. Things might get a tad bit chaotic if the whole tray joined us at once; perhaps I’ll make a part 2 to this and let the others answer!

🍹Cool Off🍹 ~ When was the last time we’ve made each other laugh hard enough to make the other cry?:

🍇: Let’s see… I don’t really cry at the hardest I laugh, but I still tear up? That’s what they mean anyway, right? Well, I do remember when Twinkletoes and I were having our usual “compliment each other until we see who quits first” competitions. Of course, I laugh when I’m flustered, and you (Sparkles) ended up making me flustered enough to laugh myself to tears- As for Rogue… OOH!! I remember this one time during a huge party, Roguefort made themselves known with one of their cards, and of course Almond was at the party because he knew Rogue would show. Well, Almond ended up cornering Rogue, and I saw the entire thing because I followed Almond to the room. He said that there was nowhere for Rogue to go, BUT there was a window right behind them. So ROGUE, they just smirked at Almond and let themselves fALL OUT THE WINDOW. They were okay, of course, but the sheer AUDACITY to do that nearly kil-… crumbled me! I had to leave the room and laugh my head off-

🧀: Hmm, I don’t believe I’ve ever laughed hard enough to cry; I merely wasn’t baked that way. That’s not to say these two never make me laugh, however; the truth is that they make me laugh quite often! Faux Berry Cookie always makes me laugh with how expressive she is, and Sparkling Cookie can get me to laugh with a story from his job. I suppose the banter we all have together makes me laugh as well, at least a giggle. It’s why I fell in love with them, after all~

🍾: What’ve they done that’s made me cry laughing, huh? Well, I remember a time when Faux Berry Cookie was hanging out with me after closing. I decided to have some juice, seeing as no customers were going to be coming in. Anyways, Faux Berry Cookie was explaining some of her story ideas to me, but she explained them in such a weird and… I guess “out of context” way? It might’ve been the juice getting to my head, but I laughed a bit too hard at that. And then she started laughing, and then I started laughing more, and I’m sure you can imagine how that night went. With Roguefort Cookie, I remember a night when we were hanging out together. I asked them about their disguises, and since we were good enough friends at the time, they decided to show me some of them. Now, of course, most of their disguises were of cookies we knew, and they decided to start imitating the cookies. I’m pretty sure they even imitated Faux Berry Cookie at one point. The whole night was spent poking some innocent fun at everyone; it was real fun!

🍇: ?!?!?!? Now what on Earthbread we’re y’all saying about me? 🤨

🍧Shaved Ice🍧 ~ What’s something we do that the other finds oddly attractive?:

🍇: Whoo! Alright! Well, Twinkletoes, I love it when ya stumble over your words a bit! It’s just so darn cute; it adds even more charm to ya! And Rogue… I just like it when you commit crimes. You’re always really pretty when you do, though, you’re pretty all the time. Keep up the good work 😉👍

🍾: Ah- Faux Berry Cookie! Shouldn’t we be… you know… not supporting their crimes?

🧀: My my~ Those are quite the words from someone that’s helped me escape before, aren’t they~? Let’s see though… Well, Sparkling Cookie, I certainly love seeing you a bit disheveled sometimes; it just lets me tidy you up a bit~ And Faux Berry Cookie… I must admit, you are quite cute when you’re annoyed. Only when you’re light-heartedly annoyed though; I’d never wish genuine ill-intent towards you, dear. So, Sparkling Cookie, what quirks of ours are on your mind~

🍾: Ah, well… let’s see here… Well, I really like Faux Berry Cookie’s laughs. You know, those loud, unapologetic ones. It’s like you can feel the joy from them; as contagious as they are, they also make me feel relaxed. You know, it’s like a sign that I don’t have to be so formal at that time. As for you, Roguefort Cookie… I guess I like hearing you mutter things under your breath. You know, like when you’re inconvenienced by a situation and start talking to yourself a bit. It’s honestly pretty funny when you do it… and maybe a bit cute-

🐠Le Fish🐠 ~ What’s something we’ve done for each other that nobody else ever has?:

🍇: Mmmmm, well~ Rogue’s practically thrown me into this noir-drama lifestyle that, honestly, is a lot of fun!… even if it DOES get me real close to having beef with my friend’s boyfriend (shout-out to Almond Cookie). But no, for real, having our lil staged chase-downs is always so fun… sure doesn’t help that they’re flirting with me through banter half the time during it 👉👈. And Sparkles… well, he single-handedly crafted a public environment that I actively look to for comfort. I’m usually so intimidated by new places, but stepping in Sparkling’s bar for the first time just felt like home. And it wasn’t just because of the aesthetic… it was also because of how sweet and caring and cute and silly he is!!

🧀: Hmm, well Sparkling Cookie certainly provides drinks that nobody else can… but that’s such an easy answer; it certainly isn’t fun, now is it~? No, Sparkling Cookie, you’ve provided me with a glimpse at my former self. Well off and surrounded by good company, reminds me of my family before…. mmm, never mind. Anyways, I don’t mean this in a sense that I’m only using you to relive that life. I mean it in the sense that I enjoy seeing you live that life; your love for life and those around you is quite contagious, after all. I hope that made any sort of sense, though perhaps it made no sense at all~ As for you, Faux Berry Cookie, you’ve given me a sense of security. It’s not everyday that a cookie willingly lets me hide in their home, after all. But I suppose you were one of the first ones I felt I could trust… with everything. Ever since the day we met, I knew you were a genuine personality. I have yet to see that falter with you.

🍾: Well, Faux Berry Cookie’s given me this newfound purpose of sorts... but maybe that sounds a bit dramatic. See, Faux Berry Cookie’s always praising me and my work, and she always gives these new perspectives on how valuable my work is. It’s… certainly a confidence booster, haha! And Roguefort Cookie has always made me feel so spoiled. It sometimes feels like I’m out-classed by them, but I honestly enjoy that! It’s almost like all the energy I put out into the world is given back to me, by them!

Yours Truly, Sparkling Cookie | 🍇Your Host, Liberty Faux Berry Cookie! | Phantom Bleu~

[angelnumber27]

love u so much! sometimes life will seem like it has more downs than ups, but just know we (humans) are ever changing and we have the capacity to literally rewire our brains. it's never easy to change from 0 to 100 or even 0 to 50, but it is possible. i am truly so proud of the growth you have shared over the past few years and always remember you are special. you are truly beautiful inside and out. your intelligence, humbleness, and inner charisma is something no one will ever take away from you ❤️. even in times where you think there is nothing for you in this world, just know you have a little community here cheering for you (some quietly and some loudly)

I love you! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

My goodness thank you SOOO much for saying this. I currently live solely with someone who has never acknowledged my strength or things I have overcome as far as my severe mental health struggles, being close to death multiple times, suicide attempts, addictions of all kinds, and the work I have done in recovery and healing. I have some people who are really wonderfully supportive of me and remind me that it was a very difficult thing I did and that I’m so strong and survived so many things and that I should be proud and for that I am beyond blessed and grateful but in my day to day environment I unfortunately do not get to see said people.

And exactly! I have made text posts similar to what you said about how we are all unfinished beings and oddly enough I actually have posts about rewiring your brain as well!

Anything is possible for anyone if I did what I did as far as getting clean from fentanyl in my own bed all alone half dead in horrid withdrawals w no meds or help like… anybody can heal from or overcome anything if I was able to do that, especially under the circumstances of being amidst the worst heartbreak I’ve ever experienced (5 years gone) and having to attempt to put the pieces of myself back together after horrible daily severe abuse and awful trauma. On top of really really bad mental issues I was having at the time. And he took our sweet angel cat in the breakup which tore me up. All of that emotional agony on top of the physical agony I was feeling after suddenly not having the incredibly strong pain killing drug my body had become so accustomed to taking every hour in my system for the first time in 3+ years was so unbearable. I am truly surprised I made it through that. And I’m still going through it. But I’m here. I’m alive against all odds and statistics

Message to everyone: if I did that, you can do that thing you swear you aren’t able to do. I promise. You will never be 100% ready and sometimes things will be very scary but you owe it to yourself to try your hardest anyway.

This is the most sweet beautiful thing…. Thank you endlessly for your kindness, the world needs more beings like you 🧚🏻‍♂️🥹 I don’t deserve this omg you’re so damn sweet

I absolutely adore my little community on here. You guys are the greatest most supportive loving angelic people and I’m sooooo lucky to be able to interact with all of you!!!!

This is so long I’m so sorry lmfao

Have a wonderful day/afternoon/night wherever you may be my love 😇🧿

[bokettochild]

i've kinda always thought that legend would a beekeeper. he just looks like he'd bee one, if that makes sense. don't know, can't explain it

Honey, you can't expect that this wouldn't join Ketto's Cottagecore Collection :)

There are many things that Ravio likes about Hyrule.

Mr. Hero’s bees are not one of them.

Oh, he loves the life that the bees spread, the flowers they tend, he loves dolloping gobs of honey over his bread while Mr. Hero watches with something that is shock, concern and awe all at once. He enjoys the gentle humming that always drifts in through the windows and sets the mood for a busy day, and he likes watching Mr. Hero putter about the hives with that soft little expression on his face, a tune on his lips that the bees seem to echo in their hums.

(He also likes the silly little dances Mr. Hero will break into while he works when he thinks no one is watching).

But what he doesn’t like are the bees themselves.

Mr. Hero, unfortunately, loves them.

“Does it have to be here?” Rupee green eyes peek out from out from under his hood as he stares across the table. It’s one of those rare moments between darting across Hyrule and Lorule where Mr. Hero will stop and stay at the house for a day or two. Not that his housemate really has a choice, Mr. Hero’s leg is busted horridly, and kingdom to save or no, he can hardly limp around the house, much less tromp all over the kingdom.

“She’s fine.” Mr. Hero’s voice is softer than normal, smooth as honey as a soft expression plays over his usually scowling face, watching the bee that crawls over his hand with a fond expression as the tiny thing attends to a droplet of honey from their mid-day meal. Three or four others buzz around the hero’s head, his ears twitching ever so slightly as he tracks their motions. But still, Mr. Hero is as calm as could be as he munches some bread, violet fixed on yellow and black stripes.

Ravio himself is half a buzz away from jumping up from the table and hiding in the bed-room. “They’re bees!”

“Hush!” Mr. Hero’s face twists into a scowl, scolding but harsh. “Don’t be so loud, you’ll scare them.”

“I’ll scare them?” Seriously? Does Mr. Hero have no care for his feelings? “Mr. Hero, I don’t mind if dear come to trim your front yard. I don’t mind if birds fly in through your windows to wake you up. I don’t mind if rabbits help you work in the garden or kangaroos appear in the living room, or even if there’s a bear restocking the woodpile. But bees?” He has to fight not to raise his voice as Mr. Hero stares at him. “Why?”

“They’re harmless. And they’re just helping out.”

“They sting!” Ravio whimpers, drawing his arms close to his chest as a particularly inquisitive insect buzzes over to investigate the green eye patches of his bunny robe.

“Only monsters.” Mr. Hero’s smile is sickly sweet and utterly terrifying, and Ravio finds himself shivering at the sight of the dark clouds that flash through his doppelganger's eyes.

“Yes, well. I’m not exactly Hylian.”

Mr. Hero only snorts at that, but from that point on, Mr. Hero stopped setting out a little dish of honey on the countertop while they ate.

It is annoying that he chose to put it on the porch though.

“What are the little bumbly things?” Tune asks, staring at him with his face twisted up in confusion. “And why is everyone else scared of them?”

Ravio’s head shoots up from his bag, eyes flitting around nervously as he searches for the “bumbly things” in question, only to have the kid point out a whole nest of them perched in a tree not far from their camp, a few soldiers standing about and pointing, their idiot selves likely considering the pros and cons of raiding it.

“Bees.” He clips back, voice strained as he tries to force a smile for the youngster. “They make honey and wax and things.”

Tune frowns, silver-teal eyes flickering in thought. “I’ve never heard of bees before. I don’t think we have them on the great Sea.”

“Don’t have what on the Great Sea, kid?” Mr. Captain Hero Sir questions, and Ravio jumps in surprise when he sees the man leaning over him to look at the sailor.

“Mr. Captain Hero Sir!”

“Ravio.” The leader’s face melts into a lovely smile, bright and honest in a way it isn’t most of the time anymore. “What are you two talking about?”

“Bees.” Wind points again to the nest in the tree, and Mr. Captain Hero Sir’s face melts into a tired frown that only becomes a scowl as he spies Mask already halfway up the backside of the tree where the soldiers can’t see him.

“Bees.” Comes the tired sigh.

“Mr. Hero keeps bees.” Ravio muses. It’s been forever since he’d seen his dear friend, and it makes him worry. Is Mr. Hero eating enough? Who’s making sure he doesn’t fall asleep on the floor? Who’s keeping the house clean so he can tend the orchard? Is someone there to make sure that there’s food in the house? That trips are made to the market?

Oh heavens! Worry gnaws away in his chest. What if the soldiers have caught Mr. Hero again? What if he’s been hurt and there’s no one there to help him clean and dress the wounds?

The animals that flit over the house like something out of a fairy tale can only do so much, and blood will only scare them away, just as sure as Ravio’s startled squeaks and whimpers would.

“Hey.” A warm hand settles on his shoulder and he finds himself looking up into rich royal eyes as Mr. Captain Hero Sir stares down at him with concern. “You okay?”

“I’m worried.” He murmurs in return, fingers fiddling with the edges of his scarf. “But there’s nothing that can be done about it, not yet.” He tries for a smile, but he knows based off of his friend’s reaction that either it can’t be seen beneath his hood or that it’s not convincing. “Go get Mask, Mr. Captain Hero Sir, before he gets himself stung.”

There’s a sharp cry or three and the angry buzzing of bees and the three of them wince collectively. “Or not.” The tired captain sighs, patting his shoulder gently before darting over to the campfire and grabbing one of the discarded torches.

“What-”

“Smoke calms bees down.” Ravio answers before Tune can finish asking the question. “Mr. Hero uses it when they get really fussy.”

Tune stares at him oddly, but doesn't ask.

That evening, Ravio finds himself with an armload of Mask while the kid sulks and pouts, grumbling and swearing under his breath as the merchant and captain work together to free him from his bee inflicted torture.

“Thank the goddesses you’re not allergic.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir scolds, waving his tweezers in Mask’s face while Ravio tries his hardest to focus on a stinger lodges between the kid’s fingers, fighting winces and whimpers of his own while Mask sits through the scolding and treatment with only the occasional hiss and glare.

“I’ve dealt with bees before.” Their youngest huffs petulantly.

“Wild bees?” Mr. Captain Hero Sir cocks a brow, disbelieving.

“Forest bees.” The kid rolls his eyes.

“Well then you should know by now not to mess with them.” The captain sounds, and acts, so much like a tired father that it makes Ravio smile softly.

How would Mr. Captain Hero Sir deal with Mr. Hero’s snark and sass, he wonders.

How would the captain handle yet another self-sacrificing teenager who really needs an adult, he muses that night, as two sticky pre-teens curl against the captain’s sides, the three wrapped in the man’s scarf while Mr. Captain Hero Sir strokes their blonde heads. Mask is drooling and Tune keeps twitching and snoring loudly, but the man who holds them couldn’t look more at peace.

Bright blue eyes meet his own over the campfire’s flames. “There’s room for one more.”

The snort pushes itself from him before he has a chance to stop it. “Where?”

The man smiles, shifting and pulling Mask into his lap, the kid nestles against his chest, tucking his thumb in his mouth slowly in a motion that has Ravio cooing softly while the captain laughs. “Such a grown up.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir teases softly, knowing full well the target can’t hear him, before patting the ground next to him. “Here.”

Ravio doesn’t say no. Mr. Captain Hero’s arms aren’t as warm and safe and home-like as Mr. Hero’s, but they’re nice, and it’s closer to home than he is on the opposite side of the fire. As he settles down, the captain smiles at him, face cheeky as he motions to the bowl still sitting at his knee. “Honey?”

After that night, he successfully impressed two heroes of courage with how much honey he could eat, and when the light had faded fully, Mr. Captain Hero Sir found himself with three snoring boys I his arms, each full to bursting with sweet golden honey, and each nursing more than a few stings.

When Impa made her rounds, whispering a teasing comment about going soft, the captain only shot her a grin and a playfully rude gesture, making the woman laugh.

“Bees!” Tune- no, Wind- chuckles, pointing out the hives behind the house as if he’s never seen the creatures before.

Captain hero Sir Jr. Winces, pulling away from the field as his father- brother? Snorts out knowing laughter behind them.

“Yeah.” Mr. Hero shrugs. “They help keep the orchard healthy and provide us with honey and wax. We practically need six colonies with how much honey Ravio eats.” The jab is playful but the easy smile on Mr. Hero’s face fades when he sees the uneasy way that all of the others are staring at the hives, Captain Hero Sir Jr. backing away and shaking his head slowly, soft murmurs of ‘no, no, no’ sounding as he and Wind exchange looks.

Mr. Hero crosses his arms. “You’re not all afraid of bees, are you?”

Guilty glances are exchanged between the heroes.

“To be fair,” Captain Hero Sir Jr. raises one hand, looking every inch the over-grown child that he is. “They sting.”

The simple statement has Mr. Hero blinking slowly in disbelief as the others all nod along, murmurs of agreement humming along with the bees as the vet stares in shock. “You’re all scared of bees?” A nervous shuffle spreads through the group, worsening as several of the fuzzy insects in question begin to make their way over. “Unbelievable.” Mr. Hero breathes, throwing his hands up.

“They- they sting.” Ravio reminds him, shivering as several of the creatures in question begin to land on Mr. Hero’s arms and hands, tiny les crawling along as the insects look for their favored snack in the hero’s grasp.

Mr. Hero raises a hand. “Look,” He almost sounds pleading. “Sky, pities sakes, it’s like a hummingbird!”

That seems to work on Mr. Chosen Hero, who peers forwards carefully, but none of the others are convinced.

It’s nervous glances that are thrown around the house by the heroes.

The bees followed Mr. Hero inside and even by his own admission he can’t force them back out without upsetting them, so instead he lets them hover around his ears and crawl over his fingers, an odd little expression on his face as they do so.

Ravio and the heroes give him a wide berth.

“Okay.” Mr. Traveler Hero frowns. “Is Legend being weird, or is that just me?”

“He’s always like this.” Ravio sighs, clutching his scarf in both hands and worrying the fringe he’d sewn onto this one. “You should see the lawnmowers.”

The heroes share a look. “Lawnmowers?”

“Deer.” He replies, an easy smile pulling at previously tensed features. “All sorts of forest animals really. It’s a nice help, but I can’t stand the bees.”

“Ah.”

A giggle breaks their focus, and shocked faces whip around to where Mr. Hero is curled up in his chair, cheeks pink as bees swarm over him, buzzing happily while the vet giggles and chortles softly, muffled complaints sounding from behind his hands. “Ladies, please! I’m-” Another laugh breaks the silence, violet eyes glittering in the fading light of the kitchen as Legend reaches up to gently remove a bee from where it’s crawling over the tip of his ear.

“The vet’s ticklish.” Mr. Rancher breathes, mischief lighting a dangerous fire in his eyes as he watches Legend plead with his insect friends to leave him alone.

“Oh yes!” The mischief is echoed in Mr. Chosen Hero’s crystal blue gaze as he winks. “Very.”

Soft titters and gentle laughs sound and the rest are drawn close as the vet playfully bats away the bees, begging and pleading between laughs as buzzes that could almost be laughter sound.

One of the tiny things settles on Mr. Smithy’s nose, humming lightly as the smithy stares at t in horror before buzzing off again harmlessly.

The next morning at the breakfast table, Mr. Hero makes extra certain to close the window while Ravio sets out fresh tea and biscuits, accompanied by warmed honey.

Mr. Hero isn’t safe however, and Mr. Chosen Hero makes a point of proving how ticklish the vet can be when he gently rubs his fingers over the tips of Mr. Hero’s ears. The honey wand drizzles sweet syrup everywhere as a startled and breathy laugh sounds, his friend batting off a grinning Mr. Cosen Hero and begging for him to stop.

“Sky! Sky please! Oh golly! Dad! Stop!”

When at last the caped hero releases Mr. Hero it’s with a beaming flush over his face while the vet groans against the hardwood table, honey absolutely everywhere.

“Quite buzzy there, honeybee.” Ravio chuckles, grin spreading wider at the half-hearted scowl sent his way.

[libraryofivy]

Feel Alive - H.Z

Pairing - Zemo x gn!reader

Word Count - 487

Warnings - a little bit suggestive, mentions of death

A/N - Something a little bit shorter today, but I've got loads of ideas, just needing to find time to work on them!

Translation(s) - draga (драга - dear/darling)

Living the high life was never your style, at least you thought. You never cared for the latest cars, fancy jewels, private jets and whatnot. Yet that seemed to be the lifestyle you were now living. Dating a Baron came with its perks, but also its downsides when you were constantly on the run. But despite all of this, he still found his ways to treat you, anything you wanted you could have. If you stared at something in a shop for longer than he considered normal, it was yours quicker than you could process what was going on. Of course you had told him it wasn’t necessary, that you didn’t need all these gifts showered upon you, yet his response was only ‘anything for my Baroness’, with a smile upon his soft lips. You made sure to show him your appreciation later, that’s for sure.

Although you could never settle down, always having to move between places so he wouldn’t be captured and sent back to prison, there was something oddly serene about the chaos. It was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of, and the same could be said about the man himself. There was something so addictive about him, the way he held himself, how he dressed, his accent. God his accent was perhaps the best thing you had ever heard. He could be telling you the worst news in the world, and yet you would be hanging onto every word. The pet names were the best. Little phrases in Sokovian to tell you how much you mean to him. Oh how he wished for the day to come in which you could stop running and settle down together properly. Make you the proper Baroness you deserve to be.

He had some guilt, though. He often thought of his previous wife, what she would make of this. But he had to remind himself that she was gone, and she was a formidable woman, who would want him to be happy. Maybe that’s why he spoiled you so much, so that you wouldn’t leave him, he couldn’t stand losing you after what he lost before. And there was also his son, who he missed more than anything else. The loss of a child is one of the hardest things to deal with. He did terrible things to try and deal with his grief, his agony. But here you were, and you loved him despite the monstrous things he had done. He secretly hoped that the pair of you would have children someday, in the hypothetical situation where you could stop running and settle down. He often dreamt of it at night. He didn’t want to replace what he had before, he still cared for them immensely, but the concept of having the joy of raising a child again, with someone he loved equally as his wife before, made him feel alive. As if life was worth living, and fighting for.

[somethingwritey]

commission: “kids in love” - a zukka fic

hi all! i was commissioned to write a zuko/sokka fic by @kurisu-80. it features a 5+1 style, some hurt/comfort, and lots of zuko pining. we brainstormed the premise of the fic before i began, and it’s here just in time for valentine’s day! 

💖 commission me! visit this post for more commission details!

---

Zuko didn’t know how to feel.

The hardest part was over, presumably, and yet the brand new emotion coursing through his body - no doubt unlocked by the Avatar’s reluctant trust - unsettled him. He wanted a name for it.

After thinking it over, he settled on relief.  

For so long, he’d been consumed by nothing but white-hot anger - and beneath that, searing pain - that relief was hard to recognize. It wasn’t hot. Instead, it ran down his back and legs and arms like water. But… he had to admit, he rather liked it.

“Unpack,” came a voice behind him. Zuko jumped a little; he’d almost forgotten that Sokka was still there in the doorway. “Lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Welcome.

Zuko hadn’t felt welcome in a long time.

He looked up at Sokka to thank him, but paused - suddenly struck by his eyes.

Blue. Water. Cool. Healing. Wonderful.

Zuko suddenly felt the need to study Sokka’s eyes forever, to never tear his gaze away. Sokka let him for a moment, like he understood Zuko’s need. And then the moment passed, with Sokka shaking off whatever had come over him and exiting the room.

Zuko didn’t move, though, staring after him for a while longer. A new heat had begun somewhere in his body, but it wasn’t anger. It was… contained. Almost hungry. He wished he knew what it meant.

Two new emotions in one day had to be some kind of record.

///

Sokka looked… younger when he slept, somehow. Like one of the tired kids they all were instead of a general orchestrating a covert rescue mission into the depths of the Fire Nation’s most heavily guarded prison.  

Zuko watched him for a few moments before training his eyes back on the landscape around them.

Don’t be creepy, he scolded himself. Sokka wasn’t his to look at like that.

Instead, he thought back to what Sokka had said before they left.

“I have to regain my honor.”

Zuko shivered a little at the memory, so similar to his own favored mantra and yet, somehow so different. Zuko’s had been selfish. He’d wanted to save himself; Sokka just wanted to save his father. And Zuko was fairly certain Sokka wouldn’t mind staying behind in the prison forever if it meant ensuring his father’s freedom.

The Water Tribe boy didn’t need to regain any honor; he had more in every bone of his body than Zuko ever would.

Maybe that’s why Zuko was so drawn to him.

///

Oddly enough, the version of Sokka dominating Zuko’s mind that night wasn’t the one splayed out with a rose in his mouth.

Although he was thinking about it. Maybe a little too much.

But the Sokka that he’d been shown after had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed until Zuko thought it might burst.

Vulnerability. Sokka had shown him vulnerability.

He thought about the way Sokka’s voice changed when he talked about his mother’s murder. Beneath the jokes and the sarcasm, Sokka was quietly patching over the part of himself that he’d lost - same as Zuko.

Zuko wished suddenly that he’d told him about losing his mother, too. Maybe the other boy would’ve confided in him further. Maybe it would’ve been Zuko that Sokka would set up candles for by moonlight and looked forward to -

Stop!

That feeling was back. Zuko shook his head and limbs, trying to scare it away. He had to stop this obsession. It was eating away at him, leaving him exposed.

After the war is over, this will end, he told himself. You’re just bored. Nervous. It won’t be like this forever.

By the end of the night, watching Suki sneak away from Sokka’s tent in the early morning light, he’d almost convinced himself that was true.

///

Fire Lord Zuko.

The title still sounded so foreign and unwieldy. Like it didn’t quite belong to him.

“Congratulations, Your Zukoness,” came a voice.

Zuko turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Sokka, how did you get in here? I thought -”

“Eh, Toph is distracting the guards.” Sokka shook his head. “You really should get some better security, I mean. A couple of rocks and -”

“Sokka!”

Sokka smiled, resting his weight on the crutch he was using. Zuko was instinctively aware of the bandages wrapped around his own torso beneath the heavy new robes.

They all bore scars of the recent battle; peace had come at a cost.

“I came to wish you luck in person,” Sokka continued, less joking and more genuine now. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Aren’t you coming to have some tea with Uncle tonight?” Zuko furrowed his brow. Was Sokka leaving? Was this goodbye?

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved his hand. “But everyone is gonna be there. I wanted to tell you in private, I guess.”

In private.

Zuko hoped his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Even after Sokka left to join his father and Katara outside at the reception, he found himself smiling… just a little.

Sokka had that effect on people.

///

Time was a finicky thing, Zuko was realizing.

One moment, they were children, and the next, they… weren’t. Or maybe they’d never been children at all, too burdened with adult worries and fears their whole lives. Most of them had lost people at a young age, forced to grow up far too quickly.

Aang had lost his entire culture.

Zuko had lost his mother.

Katara and Sokka had lost their mother, too. And now their father.

Chief Hakoda had passed peacefully in his sleep, Zuko had been told. Even after the tenuous usurpation attempt by Gilak, Hakoda’s time at the helm of the Southern Water Tribe could hardly be called blemished. His strength and rationality had brought them to new levels of international recognition and power.

He had been one of the most influential chiefs in Water Tribe history.

Zuko hadn’t been able to make it to Hakoda’s memorial - unable to get out of several Fire Nation industrialization meetings - but he had managed to make it to the South to see Sokka become the next Chief.

“You made it,” Sokka said after the short ceremony. “I wasn’t sure you would.” His voice was heavy - lacking its usual bravado.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zuko laid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, walking with him across the frozen landscape - away from everyone else. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

Sokka’s eyes turned glassy, and he looked away - unable to speak.

“He was a good man,” Zuko continued. “And he would be proud of you. I know it.”

Without warning, Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, burying his head in his shoulder. Surprised, Zuko stayed frozen, wishing he could do more to comfort the strongest man he knew.

“You’re going to make a great chief,” he said quietly.

When Sokka lifted his head, his face was inches away from Zuko’s - closer than the two of them had been in a long time. Zuko almost leaned forward, almost cut through the last bit of space between them, but before he could, Sokka was moving away.

“Thanks, Zuko.” He straightened his furs. “I should get back to Katara and our people now. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

And then he was gone.

////

Zuko hadn’t stopped pacing all morning.

He’d sent the letter after an agonizing few days of rewriting, second-guessing and re-thinking.

But he’d finally done it. Finally watched the messenger hawk lift into the sky. And now, all that was left to do was wait.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” a guard said, at last, bowing low as he entered the room. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is here to see you.”

Zuko took a deep breath, straightening his topknot. “Send him in.”

Sokka burst through the doors, trailed by a couple Water Tribesmen. “I got your message,” he called before he’d even reached Zuko’s side of the room. “What’s the big emergency? Where’s the threat?”

Sokka looked strong - a powerful and more confident version of himself. Being the leader of the Southern Water Tribe had been good for him.

Zuko glanced at the entourage Sokka had brought and winced. He needed to speak with him privately.

“Give me a moment alone with your Chief,” he said to the others. Glancing at his own attendants, he waved for them to be dismissed, too. He wanted the throne room to be perfectly and totally empty.

“What’s this about?” Sokka looked around, seemingly unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you. About a partnership between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a partnership?”  

Zuko swallowed hard. “The kind where their Chief and Fire Lord are… together.”

“Okay, okay.” The true meaning of Zuko’s words clearly hadn’t registered with Sokka, who began to tap his chin. “We team up, you’re saying? Form a political alliance? Hold on, hold on - don’t we already kind of have one? Isn’t that what my Dad was trying to -” And then he broke off, eyes narrowing. “Wait, together? Like… as a couple?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that -”

“I didn’t say it! You did!”

Sensing Sokka’s imminent rejection, Zuko tried to save the situation. “I didn’t - look, it’s not like that, I just meant -”

“You made this whole emergency up, didn’t you?” Sokka shook his head. “Just to get me here! That’s -”

Zuko cringed, waiting.  

“Kinda genius,” Sokka finished, nodding. “Somewhat evil. But genius.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Zuko sighed. “I think. It’s confusing. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I had -” His eyes widened for a moment as Sokka’s lips landed on his before they fluttered shut.

When they broke apart, Sokka seemed surprised at his own actions. “Is randomly kissing the Fire Lord grounds for arrest here?”

The idea made Zuko laugh. “Not if the Fire Lord wanted it to happen.”

Sokka grinned, and then paused. “You - you did want it to happen, right?”

“Yeah.” Zuko leaned forward to kiss him again. “For longer than you could possibly imagine.”

Finally, Zuko thought, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He understood what that feeling was now, the one he’d been so confused about that day at the temple and every day after that.

Love.

He loved Sokka, so full of honor and eyes bluer than water.

And he probably always would.

----

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[cxplqnce]

Klaus Mikaelson - Never Be The One

Word Count: 2,505

Based on the song Never Be The One by Bonnie Anderson

You were Y/N Salvatore, the infamous sister of Stefan and Damon.

After they had been turned into vampires by Katherine, they had left Mystic Falls and you believed them to be – like your father – dead. You cried for weeks after the loss of your family but continued on your life under the care of the Lockwood family.

However, a few years after your family’s downfall, you were greeted on your morning walk by a mysterious stranger who called himself Klaus.

Klaus was strange to you; he was different to any other man you had ever met, he was chivalrous, caring, kind and he was an Original Vampire. He had told you of his true self a few months after you had met him. He had revealed to you that your brothers were also vampires and were not, in fact, dead.

Immediately, he offered to turn you. You would live under his protection and care and you would get to see your brothers again. You quickly accepted and the deed was done. You spent a few years gaining control over your bloodlust, which wasn’t too difficult for you as you had copious amounts of self-control as a human. You fell in love with Klaus, even got engaged to him, while travelling with him – especially while living in New Orleans with his family.

Unfortunately, in 1919, fifty years after you had met Klaus, his father Mikael had come to town to kill his children. Klaus made the hardest decision he had ever made that day, he compelled you to forget him and to find your brothers – to keep you safe.

You did as Klaus had said; you left New Orleans and forgot everything about him and his siblings. You forgot all of the happy memories with him and all of the joys of his love. You had found Damon first and spent some time with him before leaving to find Stefan. You flitted between the two for the next ninety years before ending up back in Mystic Falls where you found both of your brothers entranced by a human girl with the face of Katherine Pierce.

Everything changed when Klaus appeared back in Mystic Falls. He resorted to stalking you, following you around but never talking to you because he was too nervous when he was around you.

You had met Elijah, who had recognised you but knew what Klaus had done so re-introduced himself to you. You thought he was a lovely and attractive person but you questioned whether you had met him before since he seemed oddly familiar. You got the same feeling at the mention of Klaus’ name later in the conversation.

-------------

You were at the Mystic Grill, alone, trying to figure out where you had heard the name Klaus Mikaelson before but you were interrupted by the man himself. As soon as he introduced himself you were terrified. You had been told of the horrible things he had done and what he was planning to do. However, what Klaus did in that moment was unexpected, he asked you to have a drink with him and get to know each other.

You were obviously extremely confused but went along with it since you thought the other option was death, however, what you didn’t know was that Klaus would never dream of hurting you, let alone killing you. It puzzled you, why he was suddenly so kind and caring but after a few drinks you thought you had the answer.

“Did we know each other? Elijah said that Originals can compel other vampires, was I compelled to forget that I knew you?” You asked your heart beating extremely fast.

Klaus chuckled at your nervousness. He laid a hand over yours, “You are entirely correct, love. I did compel you to forget me, for your own safety.” He admitted, “Now, I must be off, curse-undoing to be done.” And with that, the Original was gone.

Every time I try I only make it worse

Every single lesson that I never learn

Try to build a bridge to you to watch it burn

Try to put the blame on you that I deserve

Later that night, you followed Stefan to where Klaus was undoing his curse. You saw Elena standing by Klaus on a boulder with a witch. You saw a female werewolf and Jenna lying dead, and Stefan awake but too weak to move. Klaus gripped Elena’s neck and his fangs started to extend out of his teeth.

“Klaus!” You yelled, coming into their view. Klaus’ head snapped up and his eyes met yours. “Please, don’t do this… I don’t remember how I knew you or what we were to each other but you said you compelled me for my own safety… That means you care about me.” You started, a few tears brimming in your eyes as you walked closer to the Original. “If you do care, Klaus, please don’t do this… please, I beg you. If I ever meant anything to you then listen… please.” You pleaded, holding your hand out in front of you, more tears falling down your cheeks. “I don’t know why but when I look at you, I feel safe, protected… and happy. No one who makes me feel like that would ever hurt an innocent person, please Klaus… Please.”

You saw a tear fall from Klaus’ right eye before he croaked out, “I’m sorry, love.” He dived at Elena, sinking his fangs into her neck, draining her off all her blood before dropping her body to the floor. Stefan yelled out as your hands flew to your mouth and you dropped to the ground next to your brother.

Klaus looked up to the full moon as his bones started to crack but before anything happened, he was thrown across the clearing by Bonnie who heightened the flames gaining the witches attention, whose neck was promptly snapped by Damon – who picked up Elena’s body.

Bonnie continued to chant in Latin, Klaus’ body writhing in pain as Bonnie got closer and closer. Stefan ordered Damon to take Elena away as you helped him up, walking up behind Bonnie. Something about Klaus in pain hurt you so you had to look away as Elijah came into view and stood over his brother, shoving his hand into his chest. Klaus started negotiating with his brother who took Klaus away before any of you could stop him.

Remember all the times I went and fucked it up?

Telling you I'm sorry but it's not enough

All these nasty habits running through my lungs

Never thought I'd be the one that I'd become

Thankfully, after Klaus’ escape, Elena was resurrected. However, Damon revealed that he had been bitten by a werewolf. Stefan miraculously gained the cure from Klaus, his blood, but had to leave Mystic Falls with him which you weren’t too happy about.

During all of this, you had still been trying to figure out how you knew Klaus, how he could fit into your life somehow but you had come to no conclusion so you went to the Mystic grill to drown your sorrows only to be met by Klaus again.

“Hello, love.” He greeted, sitting next to you at the bar, ordering a drink.

You sighed, “What do you want, Klaus.” You asked, not daring to look him in the eyes as you necked another shot.

“That isn’t the way to talk to the person who just saved your brother’s life.” He replied, picking up his glass, but you stayed silent, “What? Can’t even look at me, love?”

You scoffed, turning to him, “I want to hate you for what you’ve done to my family and friends but every single time I look at you all of that hate disappears and I have these good feelings, this love of some sort, I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t hate you and I don’t even know why.” You growled in frustration hitting the table with your fists and sighing.

“I can give you your memories back if you so desire.”

Your head snapped back to him, “Why? What do want in return?” You asked, shaking your head, a few tears brimming in your eyes.

Klaus put his drink down and looked at you in the eyes, getting closer to you, “I don’t want anything from you, Y/N. Once I give you your memories back you will understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Exactly how much I care for you, love… Spoiler alert, it is a great deal… I only want you to be happy and safe.” He explained, placing his hand over yours, “Do you want them back?”

You took a shaky breath and whispered, “Yes.”

Klaus took a breath, moving your chin slightly so he could look directly in your eyes, “Remember.”

Suddenly, everything came back. Your first meeting in the woods, him turning you, your time travelling, your time in New Orleans, the first time he told you he loved you, your engagement and when he told you why he was leaving.

Once it had all come back, you were full on crying, “You compelled me because of your father. You wanted to keep me safe from him. You loved me.”

“Love you. Present tense.” Klaus corrected. You didn’t know what came over you but you leant forward and captured his lips in a long-awaited kiss. He gladly accepted the gesture of affection and held your waist and cheek in his hands. “Come with me, love.” He suggested as you pulled away.

“But Damon and-”

Klaus cut you off with another kiss, “I just got you back, love, I can’t lose you again… Letting you go was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I love you, Y/N.”

No, I'm not perfect

Why you try to make me something that I'm not?

And you're not perfect

Let me make my own mistakes it's what I want

Three months later, you remained in Mystic Falls. You told Klaus that you couldn’t leave with him no matter how much you wanted to you just needed some time to process. He seemed to understand but you were unsure of how many dead bodies your actions would lead to.

You were currently at the high school, helping the seniors with their pranks for the day when you came face to face with him again. You were with Bonnie and Matt, planning one of the pranks when you entered the gym and saw him again.

“Bonnie! Get out of here!” Elena yelled but she was too late. Klaus questioned Bonnie before Rebekah, his sister, brought in Tyler the werewolf.

You moved to stand in front of Klaus, knowing you had sway over his decisions, “Klaus, whatever you are going to do, please, don’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m sorry, love. My plan does have a certain degree of acceptable losses.” He said, grabbing Tyler off his sister and introducing her to the group before giving Bonnie and ultimatum and feeding Tyler his blood.

“Klaus, no, please.” You begged.

Klaus sighed, “Stop that, love. One of these days my stupid heart is going to give into your demands but today is not that day.” He yelled before snapping Tyler’s neck. Klaus let Bonnie and Matt leave to find a way to save Tyler while Rebekah taunted Elena.

“Klaus, I want to speak to you in private.” You demanded, turning to look at the man you loved.

Klaus nodded his head, “Of course, love.” He replied, taking your hand and leading you to a classroom. “What is it you wanted, love? Information or something else.” He inquired with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I’m sorry.” You said. Klaus’ face contorted in confusion. “I’m sorry that I didn’t go with you three months ago and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that Elena was alive but they are family, Klaus, I need to protect them.”

“I thought I was your family too.”

“You are because even after everything you’ve done and against my better judgement, I love you with all my heart…” You continued, a single tear falling down your cheek, “And one of these days I’m going to have to choose between them and you and no matter which I pick, I’ll end up heartbroken… If I choose them, you’ll have to hurt me or kill me but If I choose you I’ll have to betray my brothers and my friends and they’ll hate me forever. Either way, I lose.” You shouted, tears running down your face. “Because I’ll either have to live without my brothers or the man that I am so deeply in love with that it hurts.”

“I am truly sorry, love, I did not mean to hurt you but I cannot give up, I will not.” Klaus defended, grabbing your hands and pulling you closer to him.

You pulled your hands away, “Then I guess you just made my decision for me.” You whispered, leaving the room.

Klaus did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He cried. Tears fell in waves down his cheeks as he screamed, kicking over tables and chairs in anger. He had lost you for a second time. He didn’t know that you were just down the hall, listening to his meltdown and crying into your hands.

Cause I'll never be the one

That'll get it right, every single time

I'll never be the one

That'll hold my words even though they hurt

You had decided, with a lot of convincing from Caroline, that you would go to the 20s decade dance. She had promised that Klaus wouldn’t be there but she was wrong. You were stood to the side downing some form of alcohol when you spotted him.

“Hello, love.” Klaus greeted with a half-smile, “Dance with me?” He asked, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, you took his hand and let him lead you onto the dance floor. He pulled you into him and you started to sway to the music. “Do you remember how we used to dance?”

“I remember.” You whispered, the memories resurfacing prompting a small smile to appear on your face. “You used to hold me like this and tell me how much you loved me.” You retold.

Klaus chuckled, “Yes, I used to say ‘I am so in love with you, my darling.’ And you would reply,”

“I love you too, you hopeless romantic.” You finished as Klaus spun you out and back in. “It is nice to relive old memories but we can never go back to that, Klaus. I’ll never be the one for you.”

“Then take this.” He said, pulling away from you and reaching into his pocket.

Your eyes widened once you saw it, “My engagement ring. You’ve had it all these years.”

“I couldn’t bear to part with it, my love. It was reminder of the love of my life.”

I'll never be the one

I'll never be the one

But even if I'm wrong will you miss me when I'm gone?

I'll never be the one

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Follow my instagram @cxplqnce :)

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 11/?)

Chapter 11: Interface

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

It didn't go unnoticed by you in the following days how distant Connor was, always a hairline away, like he was suddenly no longer allowed to touch you.

On the night of the second day, when you caught him doing it again, you confronted him, trapping him against the counter in his kitchen. He had turned around and noticed you standing there, right behind him.

He could have easily pushed you out of the way; but, Connor was far too polite for that. If you were being honest, in that moment, you were taking advantage of his politeness.

"Please, tell me what's wrong?" you asked, trying not to be too demanding.

"You left dirty dishes in the sink," Connor deflected smoothly.

You crossed your arms and gave him a look, the kind that said you wouldn't fall for that. His hands were resting on the edge of the counter in an odd manner, further proving your concerns. Connor's eyes shifted nervously between your gaze and the sink before deciding to let go of that attempt.

"I had lied to you about what I was," he replied quietly.

"You never lied to me about anything," you quickly retorted, voice gentle. You grabbed at his inner elbows, trying to pull his arms away from the counter and towards you. At first, he didn't nudge at all against your insisting touch.

Eventually, he gave in and let you pull his arms towards yourself. He followed and curled his arms around your lower back, leaning into your body until you were embracing loosely.

As an android, could withstand much greater temperatures than most humans. There were very few natural occurring temperatures in the world that could set off his temperature warnings. However, when he pushed against the fabric of your clothes so he could reach bare skin, and felt how warm you were, Connor suddenly felt very cold.

You shuddered a little, likely because his fingers were a little cold compared to the skin at your lower back. Some selfish part of himself didn't mind, wanting to steal your warmth, even though he didn't need it.

"-because you were designed to hunt deviants?" you asked. "Is that what's wrong?"

Connor tore his eyes away from yours and stared blindly over your shoulder. "I should have told you. I was keeping something from you that I thought would-... would jeopardize our relationship. It was self-serving."

You smiled up at him, feeling oddly enamored at the thought of Connor being selfish, because he had proved to be anything but. Or, maybe, you were feeling pride in knowing that he felt that way about you - felt a little possessive over you.

"It's normal to want to keep some things about yourself a secret, Connor," you offered, nudging his nose with your own. "It's not just about relationships, but, just, wanting a little bit of privacy."

It took him a second, but he eventually reciprocated to your nudging, pressing his nose into your temple for a moment before lowering his head so that his forehead was nuzzled against the side of your skull.

"I'm not upset with you, or afraid of you, or anything like that," you offered. "You don't have to tell me everything."

The thought of him standing on stage with Markus, the leader of the deviants, felt different with your new found knowledge of Connor's original purpose. He had chosen to stand with the man he was supposed to take down. He had chosen to defy his creators, to become the very thing he was supposed to stop.

"You have the right to know things that could potentially make me an unsuitable partner," he said lowly, sounding a little frustrated.

"You don't owe me every little thing about yourself, Connor," you replied, breath warm on his cheeks. "All these things should come when you're ready. Besides, I found out unfairly. If anything, you should be mad at me."

Connor shook his head a little, immediately disregarding the suggestion that he should be upset with you. You had come into his life so unexpectedly and changed his perception of himself, changed what he thought he knew about himself, changed what he thought he was capable of.

There were things he had never disclosed with another soul that he wanted to pour all over you.

"Why would your designed purpose make you unsuitable?" you asked, a little insistent. If there was anything you didn't want Connor to feel, it was unsuitable - for you, for love, for anything good in this world.

"I-" he began, finding himself simultaneously restless and stiff.

You leaned back enough to look up into his brown eyes with patience and longing. Connor caught your gaze and stared back, getting lost in the look you were giving him.

"When I was a machine, there was software in my operating system that connected me to Cyberlife," he explained hoarsely and you listened carefully, hanging off his every word.

"The interface was named Amanda. She was my owner, in a way: gave me missions, praised me when I did well..." Connor's eyes flickered away for a moment. "-threatened me when I didn't."

His eyes returned to yours and he continued. It was clear to you that this was therapy for Connor, even if he didn't understand why he wanted to share all this.

"At the android march, Cyberlife tried to take control of my body. I almost - I was afraid I couldn't stop it. I nearly shot Markus before I took back control," he confessed, whispering harshly. "I wasn't aware they could do that until that moment. Escaping this-... prison inside me was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Connor paused when he felt your hands running up and down his biceps, trying to soothe the stammer in his voice. He could almost feel the chill again. It was the only time he had never known what it was like to be cold, to feel the wind biting at his skin, to feel so utterly exhausted in a place that existed inside himself.

"I am the most advanced android designed by Cyberlife." It wasn't spoken with confidence, but with regret. "Sometimes I still-... feel it: factory defaults." He uttered the last two words harshly, like he was growling out a curse.

"Remnants of the deviant hunter will always remain," you whispered, dominant hand rising to cup his cheek. Connor leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. You startled a little when the skin on his cheek faded away to interface with you. You smiled and nudged your thumb affectionally against his cheek bone.

"There's nothing wrong with that part of you," you continued. "You turned it into something beautiful, detective."

Detective - someone who tried to right the wrongs, who protected people, who saved people, who gave a voice to those who could not speak for themselves. Maybe, the correct answer would have been to become the exact opposite of what he was made to do. But, Connor truly liked this part of himself.

"When I told you I loved the android parts of you, I meant it," you insisted, hands shimmying down so you could wrap your arms around his lower back. Connor's eyes opened and he looked at you softly. "Deviant hunter, too, Connor. All your software, all your bio-components..."

"While I do not anticipate that I am a danger to you, or anyone else-" Connor explained stiffly. "-and my diagnostics no longer show remnants of Cyberlife's infiltration and remote programs, you have every right to be concerned. I check regularly, in case I am... incorrect..."

Connor trailed off when he saw the wicked smile on your face. "You are a danger to me," you teased softly. The android's LED briefly flickered to scarlet red before immediately shifting back to blue.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you explained.

Well, you knew what you would do. You would work lots of overtime to make up for the fact that all your friends were your coworkers and you went home to an empty, lonely shack in a less than favorable neighborhood.

Without Connor, you would be so utterly lonely.

He was an android. You couldn't possibly understand what he had to endure, what kind of internal struggles he continued with, the constant abuse from humans. From what you had seen, Connor powered through it with a brave face.

You had not shared much about your own life with him, unless it pertained to androids. Connor had lived a much shorter time than you; yet, his life was so much more accomplished, held so much more meaning and purpose.

You were just a simple girl from a big city and Connor was one of a kind both in his design and of his own making, by his own choices.

Despite all that, you had never felt this close to another person before.

"You would be with someone else," Connor stated, sounding almost offended. You gawked up at him, startled by the determined look he was giving you.

In his eyes, you were wonderful, beautiful, selfless, and brave. If he hadn't been so insistent, practically demanding of your attention, surely someone else would have. He couldn't imagine others not seeking your affections.

"I doubt that," you said bashfully. "I don't really put myself out there. I came onto you really strong... -like a dumb, horny teenager." You laughed a little, nervous beneath his scrutinizing eyes. You didn't regret it for a second: not Connor, nor what you had done. But, sometimes, you feared you had pushed him too strongly.

"I haven't been chaste, either," Connor offered softly. "We are not a... conventional couple." He didn't seem unsettled by that information, but more worried that you would think poorly of yourself for being forthcoming with your desires.

You giggled, brief and soft. "None of my relationships have been like this."

"They weren't androids," Connor stated.

"It's not that," you said sharply, almost scoldingly, shaking your head a little. "They weren't like this, like you, like-..."

You had loved before, in a way; but, you weren't ever in love, not like this. Nothing had ever come close to being this strong or feeling this real.

With Connor, you felt a sort of peace you never thought possible in your life. You felt like there was nothing you couldn't trust him with. He made you feel so small and so mighty at the same time.

You felt like he had given you a part of yourself that was missing; but, you felt conflicted in telling him that. You didn't want him to feel trapped or caged by you.

You had no doubt that Connor cared for you; but, there was no denying the reality that he would live much longer than you. You would grow old while he would remain young and strong and beautiful forever.

Eventually, it would come to an end-

"I've never been this close to someone before," you admitted quietly. "I - I just feel like-... You understand me better than anyone else and I feel so - I - maybe I'm projecting here-" you trailed off, feeling suddenly breathless.

Connor reached around to take hold of your dominant hand and remove it from his back. He lined up your hands, palm to palm, fingers and thumbs mirrored. For a moment, he forgot himself, forgot that you were human and couldn't interface with him. Still, he tried, the skin of his hand fading away and his joints and knuckles glowing blue.

You stared, awestruck, even though you had seen him do this dozens of times.

"You're not projecting," he whispered harshly. "We can't interface; but, I feel like we do, all the time."

You looked up at him. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed, and LED yellow, like he was trying to think, really, really hard. He wanted to interface with you, more than he could put to words, to show you how much you meant to him, to show you things that language was incapable of, to show you how he felt.

"I'm sorry," you choked out.

His eyes opened and he looked at you.

"Androids are so beautiful," you breathed. "-that you can connect like this and - all humans can do is-"

Connor leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours to silence what he knew was going to follow, the disdain you were going to put on yourself. He knew the limitations of humans very well. None of that mattered when it came to you.

"Connor-" you breathed against his lips.

He breathed your name back, like a hush.

"I'm - I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around," you whispered defiantly.

"I do," he replied, nudging his forehead against your temple. "You always make me feel better."

He felt like he had the world cradled against him, and he didn't want to let go. You continued to embrace until Connor felt you starting to sag against him. Through your touch, he could sense your breathing pattern had started to change, and realized you were dozing off.

"Come on. It's late," he said quietly. However, instead of letting you respond, Connor took initiative and picked you up, scooping you into his arms like you weighed nothing.

"W-woah," you stammered. "Geez, Connor."

"Were you falling asleep?" he asked teasingly as he carried you to the bedroom.

"N-no," you retorted sharply. You felt his chuckle more so than heard it. He tucked you into bed, helped you change - or, undress, more actually - before stripping down to the same state and nuzzling in close behind you.

That night, while you slept, Connor laid next to you and rolled through his memories.

"What I want is not important," is what he had said to Kamski, his creator, when the man had asked him what he wanted. The mission was more important, what his creators expected of him was more important; or, at least, that was what he had told himself at the time.

Even back then, he wanted to enforce the law, to bring justice, to give a voice to those who didn't have one. He wanted to prevent a civil war that would bring about the death of thousands, potentially millions, of humans.

When he accepted his deviancy, those things didn't go away. His wants evolved. He wanted freedom for his people - for androids, so they could live with the kind of freedom he was fortunate enough to have in this moment.

Now... now, he wanted so much more.

Selfish things-

Human things-

He wanted to live a life that involved choices undictated by orders. He wanted to experience the world in all its vastness, waiting for him. He wanted to go to places he had only seen through the HUD in his processor, in videos and photos. He wanted to be there - to feel, to smell, to learn with his own hands.

-and he wanted you by his side every step of the way.

He wanted to create memories with you, to share the world with you.

Connor's arm was resting over your abdomen, his hand caressing yours. You had returned his gentle grip until you fell asleep and your touch slackened. His thumb brushed against your knuckles and lowered, sliding along your ring finger just past the knuckle, and he thought about what could fit there.

It was a strange feeling. He found himself constantly longing for these things that felt so humanlike, so beyond what he was designed to do, things he once thought were all that he was capable of.

"What do you really want?" he could still hear Kamski's voice in his head.

To be free. To be wild and untamed and live life without fear of what he was and how the world might perceive him. To see the world as more than analytical data. To not see every step as a branching path, where one wrong move could ruin everything. To live life as if there was a chance he could die tomorrow.

He wanted you-

-to be his forever.

[zigtheeortega]

calm before the storm

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 2.5k

✿ warnings: loss, death, funeral – angst.

✿ author’s note: i didn’t necessarily think that bryce was written ooc, but the whole post-funeral sequence was pretty weird to me. i’m someone who copes very similarly to bryce, so i could see myself reflected in him a lot. and i thought the s*x scene was very oddly placed so, here’s me warping canon again bc i’m dissatisfied! lmao hope u enjoy <3 also this fic is very close to me emotionally – i experienced two close deaths in april and june. 

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

He blinked and he was back home. Couldn't remember how he got there. He was on autopilot and didn’t have a clue until he’d already wasted so much time. When night came, he couldn’t recall what he’d done that day.

The days between the diagnostics team finding a cure were torturous, the mere thought of not knowing what the future held – for the first time in his life – shaking him to his core.

He found himself paying close attention to Keiki. Each sarcastic quip, rude comment, or joke at his expense, he listened, soaking it up, no thoughts about the problem back in Hawaii. He whole-heartedly enjoyed her. Through one of the hardest times in his life, he was rekindling a relationship that never should’ve fallen apart.

The night he spent with Spencer, cuddled up next to her in his starchy hazmat suit, was the most daunting of them all. He was smiling and flirting with her, a little bit of his normal self shining through, but the crushing weight of his reality was distracting him.

This could be the last time that you see her smile.

God, he knew he had a killer smile of his own, but hers put the whole damn sun to shame. Her grin lit up her whole body, like every atom in her body was in it. And despite her sunken in eyes, her pale, sickly appearance, she still emitted those same infectious rays that he was eager to soak up.

This could be the last time that you hold her.

He curled himself around her, spooning her like he’d done a handful of times before. What he wouldn’t give to have a faceful of her hair again, the tropical scent so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but associate the scent of coconut with her.

This could be the last time that you feel her.

He stroked her face with a gloved hand, wishing for nothing more than to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips again. He pressed into her, hoping she could feel his warmth through the thin layer of fabric.

When her eyelids finally fluttered shut, overcome with exhaustion, his mind wandered to the possibility of it all being over.

And he couldn’t cope with that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

When the treatment worked, and both she and Rafael were cured, it was the first time in months he’d experienced genuine joy. He didn’t know what higher power out there was looking out for him, but he silently thanked the universe for looking out for her. And for putting her in his life, and decidedly keeping her there.

The funeral was too much for him.

Seeing the two caskets, sealed tight, the endless arrangements of flowers, the sea of black clothing… it was overwhelming. Foreign. Like he was intruding on something so intimate that wasn’t meant for him to see.

And the sounds. He’d never forget it. Choked sobs from every angle, constant sniffling, a sporadic wail. The atmosphere made him antsy. His suit was itchy, his shoes were uncomfortable, and he was surrounded by grief.

Both Danny and Bobby meant a lot to Edenbrook, but it was nothing compared to what Spencer meant to him.

He must’ve slipped into auto-pilot (again), because before he knew it, the funeral was over, and he was outside of her apartment.

Wordlessly, he wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo enough to bring him to tears. He was so fucking close to losing that forever. His free will to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

She invited him in, and every step to her room felt like each string that held him together was snapping, his sutures buckling under the weight he carried.

He was digging deep, trying to pull any kind of genuine quip from within him, to maybe – just maybe – convince Spencer he was okay.

But did he want to keep her in the dark?

Opening up was so fucking hard for him. Either he was a burden or he was let down by the people he confided in.

Trustworthiness was hard to come by, and Bryce knew that. That’s why Spencer was the first to know about Keiki, about his parents, about him. Not entirely, since he wasn’t ready for that just yet, but he was getting there.

It was a slow process, and he revered Spencer’s patience. Not once did she get upset with him for not sharing every detail.

And he almost fucking lost that.

His torturous inner monologue that he worked so hard to bury showed up when Keiki did. Guilt ate him alive, anxiety gnawed his insides, and regret feasted on whatever was left.

His mind was a hurricane, angry waves crashing painfully against his subconscious, the storm surge from his repeated trauma more than he could handle alone.

The one person he should’ve let in was almost taken from him, ripped from him like a surfboard after a wipeout.

He was drowning, and he flicked away the only hand that was outstretched for him.

And he almost fucking lost her.

The moment Spencer’s brows furrowed at whatever unconvincing mask he had plastered on his features, he broke.

His throat ached and flexed as he tried to choke back the tears, but he just… couldn’t.

Fuck, you’re so weak. He cursed at himself as the tears started flowing, warm streaks trailing down his bronzed skin, vision blurred like his head was under water. This isn’t about you.

The one time deflection was warranted, he broke down into a blubbering heap at her feet.

Like the angel she was, Spencer coaxed his body towards the bed, settling him against the down comforter before his legs buckled beneath him.

She gathered him in her arms, holding him exactly like he needed (like he wanted, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud).

She held him like he held her – like it was the last time.

The revelation tore him up inside, knowing she’d never take a second of their time together for granted again.

He pulled back, running a shaky hand through his hair, loose strands clinging to his damp forehead.

“I normally can hold it together better.” “You don’t have to do that around me, Bryce. You know that,” she encouraged, eyes still red-rimmed from the funeral.

“You’re the one that almost died, and I’m sitting here crying letting you comfort me,” he laughed through a sob, bouncing his leg on the ground nervously.

“You watched me almost die,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re allowed to be upset.”

His chin wobbled, and he rolled his lips to mask it. He took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Spencer, I – have you ever…” He trailed off. Why was this so fucking hard?

“Have I been through this before?”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

She nodded. “Have you?”

“No.”

She nodded again.

“It’s making me think about my life… and the people in it. And things I could’ve done differently… better.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I saw you in that room, after the gas started affecting you, and your face… it –” he bit his lip to hold back a soft sob. “It got me thinking about everything that we didn’t do.”

“Bryce…” she laced her fingers in his, rubbing her thumb methodically over his skin.

“We’ve barely seen each other this year, Spencer. I got caught up with Keiki, and trying to figure shit out, and –” he searched her eyes, tears welling up again. “When I saw you in that room, nothing else mattered.”

“More than one thing can be important to you –”

“You’re important to me, Spence. You deserve better than what I’ve given you this year,” he shook his head, tears spilling over. “I can’t lose you.”

“You aren’t losing me, Bryce. I’m right here,” she practically cooed, trying her best to soothe him.

“I shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. Please,” he whispered.

She pulled back, scooting backward onto the bed to cross her legs, as he stood up, pacing.

“It’s like I’m fucking up left and right with the people who matter to me,” he fisted his pockets, avoiding her eyes as he strode across the room.

“You of all people should know that you can’t take the blame for things that are out of your control,” she murmured softly, tugging at a loose string at the hem of her dress.

“I know I can’t control it and that’s why it makes me want to tear my fucking hair out,” he said through gritted teeth, biting back tears. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but his body had other ideas.

“Bryce, you couldn’t have stopped a bursting gas canister. Nobody could’ve stopped it.”

“That’s not what I’m frustrated over. I’m… I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick and making this about me. There’s a lot going through my head right now,” he laughed humorlessly, stopping in the middle of the room directly across from the bed.

“Talk it out with me. I’ve got time,” she smiled encouragingly, folding her hands in her laps politely, like the angel she was.

God, sometimes he was thankful for his parent’s demonic behavior, because if not for the bad karma the Lahela’s accumulated, there’s no way in hell the universe would’ve balanced itself out by placing an angel like her in his path.

“On the one hand I’m angry at myself for not spending time with you like I should’ve,” he chewed his lip for a second, trying to gather his thoughts, before speaking again slowly. “I could’ve lost you and I was more worried about keeping secrets from everyone and dealing with shit on my own, you know? Which I never should’ve done.”

“But you didn’t and still don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to have boundaries,” she interjected calmly.

“But maybe… maybe I don’t want that anymore,” he shrugged out of his tux jacket, draping it over the back of her desk chair as he spoke. “You still barely know Keiki. I barely know Keiki. And I holed myself up when you were waiting there with open arms. I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want to burden anybody? I don’t know.” He repeated, downplaying his own self–realization.

“And I’m frustrated because I don’t… know how to deal with this,” he gestured around the room, then to himself. “How to wrap my brain around all of it. This was the first time I lost anybody like this.”

“I wasn’t even super close to Danny and Bobby,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets to calm his shaking hands.

“Losing people is always hard. Doesn’t matter how close or distant you are to somebody,” she said, trying to hold his eyes, but he could barely look at her.

He’d never opened up like this before. He was so vulnerable… so exposed, and he was afraid. Afraid she’d run away. That she’d bolt the second he plopped his thick suitcases filled to the brim, nearly bursting with emotional baggage from the past two decades.

“I’m sad about losing them, definitely, and going to a funeral for the first time in my life really fucked with my head but… fuck, I’m gonna sound like such an asshole,” he willed himself to look up from his shoes, staring intently at her. “None of that even comes close to what I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”

“Kyra was hanging on by a thread while I thought you were –” he choked, pressing his lips in a firm line to stop his sobs, which escaped through his nose in short breaths instead.

“I’ve never felt pressure like that. And my life has been nothing but pressure.” The words were freely flowing from him, like a dam held together by a few twigs, snapping to release a flood that neither of them anticipated.

“You had to run towards your problems, not away from them,” she whispered, like she wasn’t sure if he’d agree. But the moment the words left her lips, it was like the puzzle pieces fell into place for him.

Maui should’ve been his safe haven, but from the moment his parents were exposed in every form of news throughout Hawaii, he was itching to leave. The island fever settled into his bones and never left. It was an ever present anxiety he struggled with despite finding a home in Boston, Edenbrook, and Spencer.

When shit went down back home, he ran. When people found out who he was states away from the fallout, he ran. It was predictable, methodical, like an appendectomy. The same muscle memory that sliced skin and fastened sutures with delicate precision pumped his legs until he was as far away from his problems as he could get.

“Everytime I lost somebody, it was because I chose to. This time it was like something was being ripped away from me, and I couldn’t handle it,” Bryce said, a profound statement that caused a pained whimper to escape his lips.

“Bry…” She breathed, scooting to the edge of the bed, gently tugging at his shirt sleeve to pull him down to sit on the comforter.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now, alright? And you don’t have to carry all of this alone. I’m here. You’ve got all of us,” she said, motioning towards the walls of the apartment. “Sometimes just letting it out can take the weight off your shoulders. And you’ve got a heavy load, Bryce.”

She rubbed soothing circles on his back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not leaving you.”

He held her eye, doe-eyed gaze piercing – Spencer could see right through him, and god did he love feeling seen.

There was nothing he could say to thank her properly for putting aside her feelings to listen to him for a few minutes. Those few minutes where he unleashed a small portion of the shit he’d been building up for years.

So instead he did what he’d been craving since the moment he saw her behind the glass.

He pulled her into a frenzied kiss, pouring every part of himself into the embrace, wrapping him in her arms like she belonged there, as if he was saying “I’m not leaving you, either. You’re safe now.”

––––

taglist: @pixeljazzy ; @raleiighcarrera ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @violinet ; @empressazura ; @serafinedupont ; @messofakind ; @altairadtaz ; @hudush ; @solarbridge ; @adriansbiss ; @bellarxse ; @havennly ; @writinghereandthere ; @levineseth ; @lahellacute ; @michellesnguyen ; @kelseaaa ; @natesewels ; @lucas-koh ; @rainesenator ; @montjoy ; @bryceslahela ; @crestfallenpixie ; @dudebro-lahela ; @ezekielbhandarivalleros ; @lgbtiangley ; @part-of-the-circus ; @nazariolahela ; @hazel-nguyen ; @la-huerta ; @adamdusmortain ; @thepotatobleh ; @distinguishedsaladoperawinner ; @bobbymckenzie ; @catsomi ; @neptunesascendant ; @pixelsandkink

[if i missed you, i wasn’t able to tag your url! i tagged anybody who interacted w the post so if you want to be removed please let me know]

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It - Epilogue

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Part 6 | Epilogue

Word-count: 2.3k+

A/N: okay so about a million years ago @corishirogane3​ sent me the cutest headcanon for this series and i had to make it canon. i’ve rewritten the ending so much that i’m not sure how i feel about it anymore but!! i wanted to post this sugary sweet ending after my finals so 💕💕 i hope you guys like it

Caliban hated birthdays. His mother would always try her hardest to make each year better than the last, with more outrageous parties in the hopes that he would forget he was a bastard whose father cared more about his reputation than his son. It never worked. 

Kinkle: Happy Bday man! You’re still an asshole but I’m glad we’re friends again

As if his childhood confusion wasn’t hard enough, Caliban’s teenage angst almost burned everything to the ground. He was angry at his family for abandoning him and his mother, at the people around him for being conceited and boring, and at California for being too goddamn sunny. 

Theo: happy birthday to my gay awakening 💕

Birthdays made Caliban infinitely aware of his precarious loneliness in the world. He’d stopped telling people when his birthday was long ago, but somehow they’d find out and ruin his plans to spend the day alone and screaming at the sky. Year after year, it was just the same hollow wishes from people who didn’t really care about him.

Rosalind ✨: happy birthday old man. i got you a haunted portrait so you don’t wrinkle 

But this year was different. Caliban still wasn’t sold on the perfect greeting card birthday, but he’d been less angry since moving back to Greendale. Dating you - real or not - meant he got a group of friends as part of the deal, and the lot of you had extorted his birthday to draw up his astral chart. Apparently, he was an Aries sun, Capricorn moon - whatever the fuck that meant.

Sabrina: Happy Birthday Cal 💞

Still, Caliban could move across the country and collect as many friends as he liked, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever enjoy his birthday. 

With a sigh, Caliban threw off his covers and padded across to his closet. He pulled out his usual dark clothes and scrounged around for his leather jacket before realizing he’d loaned it to you. He smiled to himself and set to make himself presentable. 

This first hour of his birthday was always spent alone. It was one of the many birthday traditions he and Isobel shared, along with birthday pancakes, ditching the last half of school, and triple chocolate cake with Sour Patch Kids stuck to the icing. He was thankful for all the things his mother did for him, but that first dose of silence and solitude was crucial if he was going to deal with all the birthday bullshit that lay ahead.

Caliban’s phone dinged with yet another notification and he stopped in the middle of the hallway to dig his phone out of his pants pocket. Sure, Caliban talked a big game about hating birthdays but he still checked every text he got, hoping for ... something. 

Fitch: Happy non-birthday to the best not fake boyfriend I’ve ever had ❤️ I love you and I’ll see you soon

He always read the texts, but he almost never responded. He leaned against one of the door frames and started typing something in the way of a reply. The only problem was that Caliban was only gifted in the way of words when he was lying, and he never wanted to lie to you. Caliban sighed and locked his phone without sending anything. He’d figure out what to say once his stomach was full of pancakes.

Expecting to come downstairs to the low hum of Isobel singing along to music, the smells of cinnamon, sugar, and melted chocolate, and one very messy kitchen, Caliban was surprised when he reached the bottom stair and heard your voice. Everything else was as expected, but you stood out among all the chaos.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly. 

Isobel stopped her humming for a second. “Oh, yeah! That’s perfect, sweetheart.”

The pancake batter sizzled in the pan and Caliban decided to brave the kitchen. It was still as messy as always, but there you stood, clad in a borrowed, sunflowered apron and brandishing a spatula. 

Since you and Isobel were whispering and watching the pancakes rise with your back turned to the entrance, Caliban walked over as quietly as he could and got a better look at the assortment of toppings on the counter. He'd just bitten into one of the strawberries when you turned to grab something off the counter. 

You jumped sky-high and Caliban laughed. “Jesus. How long have you been there?” you asked.

“Long enough.” Caliban tried to sound nonchalant, which was difficult to do with all his curiosity. His cool facade was also ruined by Isobel rushing around the island to hug him and kiss his cheeks. 

Isobel settled slightly after sitting Caliban down on one of the stools and promising to be right back with his present. 

With your new-found solitude, Caliban turned to with an amused smile. “When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant quite so soon,” he said. He reached for another strawberry. 

You were happy to have caught him off-guard. “That’s kind of the point of a surprise.” You turned back to the stove to keep the pancake from burning but looked over your shoulder to add, “I mean, I can leave if it’s a problem?”

“You would deprive me of your company on my birthday?” 

You set a plate in front of Caliban that had a single, oddly shaped chocolate-chip pancake. “I'd never dream of it, Abercrombie.” You took a step back, pulled out a knife and fork, and set it in front of him. “Tell me how it tastes?” 

Caliban cut a piece and held his fork out to you. 

“No way. That’s your birthday pancake.” 

“You would really make me beg on my birthday?” 

“You can’t play that card the whole day-” 

“Yes, I can. Because it’s my-” 

“Don’t say it-”

The word was on the tip of his tongue, but Caliban didn’t get the chance to play his birthday card another time because Isobel rushed back into the room holding a wrapped present and grinning wildly. 

Isobel set the present down on the stool next to Caliban and tapped the top. “I know you don’t like opening them in front of anyone, but I couldn’t wait.” She tapped the gift again before reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Happy birthday, my love.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Caliban said in a low voice. Isobel gave him the sad smile she always did on his birthday and he gave her the matching smile he always did. 

Your voice broke both of them out of their birthday stupor. “Well, I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late.” You untied the knot behind your back as you spoke before lifting the apron over your head. “I just wanted to stop by to steal a few legendary birthday pancakes and drop off the scavenger hunt stuff.” 

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” Caliban asked, sounding as saintly as he could. 

Isobel laughed. “Your brilliant girlfriend figured out how to give you a special birthday while letting you spend the whole day by yourself.” She wrapped an arm around Caliban’s shoulders and looked over at you. “There are clues and activities all over town and you can only come back once you’ve finished them all.” 

As intriguing as a day spent on his own seemed, Caliban couldn’t help but feel like there was a catch coming. “And what about my daily need for education?” 

“I thought you were a fan of more alternate education,” you teased. You leaned over and ate another bite of pancake. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft in your old age.” 

Caliban gave a short laugh. “I said no such thing.” 

You smiled. “Your mom promised to give you the first clue after your first pancake stack. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

Caliban nodded, suddenly unsure of how to respond. He was bad at receiving gifts at the best of times, and this gift was personal and bestowed upon him in front of his mother. It was an awkward set of circumstances. “Thank you,” he said softly as he hugged you goodbye. 

“Of course.” You kissed his cheek and disappeared out of the kitchen after waving goodbye to Isobel. 

Once you were gone and Caliban was left with the familiar sounds and smells of the morning of his birthday, he began to think that maybe his opinion on birthdays needed a bit of changing. 

--- 

Though he’d only participated in a few scavenger hunts, Caliban was competitive and he was relentless. He tore through clue after clue in the same ravenous fashion that a pack of wolves would their next meal, though he tried to savor it as best his hunger would allow. Every handwritten clue was kept, every souvenir pocketed, and every moment memorized. He didn’t want to waste the most thoughtful gift he’d ever been given just because he was an impatient bastard. 

But, as he stared at his suspiciously dark house, he wondered if he should have taken it a bit slower. The last clue had hinted at something waiting for him at the house, and his desire to finish the scavenger hunt waged war on his hatred of birthday parties. He was just about to put the car in reverse and dart into the street when your head popped around a curtain. You ducked inside at such a speed when your eyes met his that Caliban laughed at the mental image of you crashing into a lamp and trying to play it off. 

In the end, neither his desire nor hatred lured him into the depths of his birthday party. His bizarre inclination to do anything and everything you wanted drew him in.

So, Caliban showed up at his party. He wore a party hat, played nice with the other kids, and blew out the candles on his cake. All in all, it should have been the perfect end to his perfect day. But even with all your careful planning, there was no accounting for the bullshit hole in Caliban’s chest that always left him feeling empty. 

When the hole in his chest got too big, Caliban sneaked up the stairs, ducked into his room, and slipped out the window. He wasn’t running away - though the thought did cross his mind - but he just needed some fresh air. Harvey’s laughter mingled with that of his other friends and the laugh tracks of bad movies, drifting through the open window to the warmth of the April night. Still, there wasn’t enough fresh air in the world to fix him. 

“Hey!” 

Caliban twisted around to see you popping your head out of his bedroom window. You had a silly grin on your face and your hair was falling all over your face. The hole in Caliban’s chest got a little smaller. Your smile softened as you tilted your head to mirror his. 

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” 

“Aren’t you worried about missing the party?” Caliban asked. 

You shrugged. “Roz and Theo ate all the good snacks so it’s pretty lame anyway.” Caliban laughed and you flashed him another smile. “Come on, Abercrombie, you really gonna make me climb on the roof to come get you?”

Caliban let out a long whistle and adjusted to get a better look at you. “I’d like to see you try, but careful - it’s slippery out here.” 

“Stop being an asshole and let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re gone.” 

Grinning, Caliban rolled over and held a hand out to you. There was no need to be so secretive, really, but sneaking down his mother’s carefully cultivated trellis was half the fun. Caliban squashed some hydrangeas on the way down, you tumbled into him after getting your foot stuck, and the two of you were left breathless for a moment before rushing to the car so no one would discover your attempted prison break.

Giddy as you turned onto the freeway, the two of you laughed with the windows down and music blaring. Caliban didn’t think his birthday could get any better than it already was, but that moment with you was his favorite part. Or at least, it was until you started complaining about wasting away and you pulled into a diner for something to eat - then he found a new favorite moment. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“You know what.” You tilted your head. “Is this because of the fry thing? I’m telling you, if you just try it then you’ll like it.”

Caliban laughed and shook his head at ‘the fry thing,’ also known as your insistence to dip your fries in whatever milkshake you had on the day. “I’m not trying it.”

“You’re a coward.”

“You can’t say that to me. It’s my birthday.” 

“You hate birthdays.” 

“Still.” 

Rolling your eyes, you pushed the plate of fries over to him. “Try it once, okay? And you’ll see it’s the perfect combination of salty and sweet, hot and cold, yummy and delicious.” 

Caliban couldn’t help it. He’d been putting it off for almost a year now, and it just didn’t feel right to say no to you after everything you’d done for him today. Plus, you were cute when you got your way. So, he reached out and dipped a fry in the milkshake. 

Annoyingly, it was everything you’d said and more. Despite the sugary, fried high he was bound to be on in a few minutes, Caliban knew the best part of this whole endeavor would be to see your sickeningly smug face when he admitted defeat. 

You’d turned him into a cheesy cliche. He was disgustingly romantic, he carried your books between classes, and had your coffee order memorized. Because you were the sweet to his salty, the brave to his reckless, the Fitch to his Abercrombie. 

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @miss--moose  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​​  @hxlalokidottir​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @shephard17895​  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @luquincy  @marina468​  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​  @blondeeee-e  @piensa-bonito

[scrambleddragonegg]

@revalinkexchange thank you for allowing me to participate in the exchange, and I apologize to both you and my giftee (lol thats not a word but idc right now)

@umbreonix this is the piece I wrote for you and for my entry into the exchange. before you read, I just want to say I thought your username looked familiar, and that your fanfics are some of my favorites on AO3.

happy valentine's day!!! :)) <3

For: Umbreonix

    Revali complains the entire way there, but Link knows it’ll be worth it. The rito barely leaves his roost at night anymore, let alone the village. He even has a hammock set up in the Flight Range for the days time slips past him and it’s dark before he’s finished. It started after his battle with Windblight Ganon.

    Link, however, prefers the night. Everything feels much more alive at night, despite the skeletal monsters that pop out of the ground. The point of this trip isn’t to fight, although Link is starting to believe Revali would prefer that, but to see Dinraal. Maybe after this, he can convince the rito warrior to come out and see the other dragons as well, but Dinraal is the easiest to get close to.

    “Why are we all the way out here? To see some bones?” Revali asks, rolling his eyes as he crosses his wings, making his disapproval and annoyance well known.

    Because you won’t talk to me unless you’re sure everyone else can’t hear. Link signs, chuckling a bit as he rushes to gather wood for their fire. He ends up needing to cut down a tree, and when the tree falls, he quickly bundles some of the wood in some string so that it’s easier to carry. He looks up to the sky and smiles, night will come soon enough.

    “ We have one heart to heart and suddenly you think that we’re- A picnic? You brought me out here for a stupid picnic?!” Revali asks, staring at Link in disbelief as Link proceeds to bring out food he made beforehand.

Not stupid. Link signs, scowling at the rito before turning back to his bag. Revali, thankfully, takes that as a cue to shut up, and Link starts to set up their fire. Revali watches him in confusion before Link points to the sky. Only then does Revali realize that it is nearly nightfall. He immediately begins protesting again, saying that if they’re not back at the village before dark that the elder will be worried.

I told him we’d be back late.

“If I stay too long, sand will get in my feathers!”

I’ll help you get the sand off if that’s what you’re worried about.

“I usually turn in early, this little adventure of yours is going to cost me my sleep schedule and-”

Revali, I won’t force you to stay, but I’d like you to. Link finally signs, feeling a slight blush warm his face. He brushes it off, convincing himself that it’s the weather. They are awfully close to Death Mountain after all.

“You want me to stay? All I’ve done is complain! How on Hylia’s green earth can you still tolerate me after today?!” Revali argues, frustrated. He’s shaking slightly, and Link can tell that it’s worse than it looks.

You’re scared. Link signs pointedly. Revali squawks, feathers puffing up slightly.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous. Me? Scared? Ha!” The rito manages after he recovers. Link doesn’t believe him for a second, making that known by an eye roll, and goes back to starting the fire. There’s a moment of silence, which tells the Hylian that something is wrong. Revali is never silent. Not off the battlefield anyway, he likes his presence being known.

If you’re that scared, then we can leave. Link signs with a sigh. It’s then that Revali flies over to the Hylian, much too quickly for Link to dodge with his guard down, and tackles him into the sand. By now the sun has set, leaving the sand glistening in the moonlight. Revali is too caught up in his feelings and his battle with Link to care. A flash of orange pulls them from their tussle and they both stop very suddenly. Revali pinning Link to the sand, his heart feeling like it’s going to leave his chest, or come up his throat, or something of the like. His vision starts to spin before he realizes that he’s not breathing. He can’t move. He’s back on Medoh with Windblight Ganon. He’s going to die. Again.

Link jumps into action immediately, freeing his arms and grabbing onto Revali like he’d disappear if he let go. In hindsight, the fiery dragon wasn’t the best of choices. At least there’s nothing shining that deathly blue. Revali, now shaking uncontrollably, gives into the touch and tries to ground himself. When he stops shaking, he looks up to see the orange dragon weaving through the air. It’s beautiful.

“L-Look,” Revali stammers, voice shaking though, his body stopped, “is this what we came here for?” He asks. Link lifts his head from Revali’s shoulder and looks up at Dinraal before looking back at Revali and nodding furiously.

Dinraal. Link spells through sign.

“The dragons are very uncommon to see nowadays, despite the Calamity having passed. There’s no conventional way to get here, so this place is about as hidden as can be.” Revali thinks aloud. He then notices that Link has started subconsciously toying with Revali’s feathers despite keeping his eyes on the dragon. If the Rito were to think about it, he’d say the scene is almost… intimate. He’s definitely not thinking about it. Not at all.

Food and fire forgotten, the two watch Dinraal until it disappears into the starry night sky, and Revali feels oddly at peace, not that he’ll ever admit it. After letting out a sigh, Revali turns to Link to find him still situated on his lap and staring right back at him. His eyes are like clear water, Revali thinks. He’s never liked getting wet very much, but he’s always thought it was beautiful. He supposes the same could be said for Link.

“Rev- R- Revali.” Link says, trying his hardest not to mess up saying the warrior’s name. Revali’s eyes widen as he hears Link’s voice. It’s a bit scratchy from underuse, but for some reason that fits the knight well.

“So you can speak.” Revali says jokingly. He still gets punched in the chest, but not hard enough to really hurt. The atmosphere changes so quickly that Link swears he gets whiplash, but he’s not upset about it. He enjoys the playful banter he can have with Revali. He prefers it to their bickering, although that’s fun as well.

“Not well.” Link says, voice just a bit clearer. It makes Revali’s heart skip a beat, but he’s not a fledgling anymore, so he manages to control his “puffing” as Tulin calls it.

“Your voice is… nice.” Revali says, although it comes out sarcastic (to save face) he truly means it. He gets another punch to the chest and Link starts to laugh.

Some of us were taught to be seen and not heard. Link jokes.

“And you do that very well.” Revali laughs. Link finally stands up, and Revali finds that he liked the weight of the Hylian boy on him. It’s comforting. Revali watches as Link begins to pack up their forgotten picnic and Revali shakes his thoughts away before standing to help Link pack things up.

Do you want to try flying, or should I use the slate? Link signs. Revali thinks for a moment before he answers.

“I think I’ve had enough excitement tonight. I can try flying at night another time.”

[virtchandmoir]

Tessa Virtue On Her Second Act and Finding Balance In the New Normal

We asked Canada’s Olympic darling and Nivea’s new ambassador how her goals, self-care and beauty routine have transformed in 2020

December 21, 2020

In partnership with Nivea

The last 10 months have been *insert another word for unprecedented* for everyone, even for five-time Olympic medalist Tessa Virtue. In some ways, they’ve been uniquely challenging for someone like Virtue, a 22-year competitive athlete who was just a few months post-retirement when the COVID-19 pandemic hit. No more weeks on end of travel, no more rigorously regimented exercise schedule, no more stage makeup, and a whole big world of opportunity to navigate in this New Normal.

FLARE spoke to the retired skating champion and Nivea’s first Canadian ambassador over Zoom (yes, both parties wore real pants—it was a good day!) about finding joy in lockdown, the ways she has been practicing self-care this year, how her beauty and skincare routine has evolved and how her priorities have shifted since retirement.

You retired from professional skating in fall 2019. What has life been like since then?

“It’s been upside down, but that’s from a more global standpoint. For me personally, the more difficult transition was going from competition to touring. After we wrapped up our Rock the Rink tour last fall, there were so many challenges and goals that I had already set for myself, so it was about navigating the path of, ‘OK, how do I go from being so singularly focused [on skating] to seemingly endless options and ideas and plans?’

“One thing I’ve realized is just how pressure-filled that time was. It was so intense and draining on so many levels that there’s a bit of levity that has been nice to embrace. And having new purposes and goals ahead of me also helps because I’m so task-oriented.”  

Tell us about pursuing your MBA—all over Zoom, no less!

“I’m doing my MBA through Smith’s School of Business, associated with Queen’s University. I have a bit of an entrepreneurial spirit so I wanted to make sure that I was learning as much as I possibly could about all facets of the business before I truly pick an avenue and take a run at something.

“Also, as a buffer between sport and real life, it’s good to have a goal that is in the not-so-distant future. May 2022 is graduation so it’s this tangible thing that I can work towards, challenge myself in a way that is not so physical, but rather academic.

“There are about 90 students in the class and they’re such formidable, exceptional humans that have accomplished such amazing things in their own realms. I have to admit, I’m much more nervous participating in our school sessions with 90 people than I was ever performing or competing, probably even at the Olympics (laughs)!”

What’s something that has been bringing you joy in these recent months?

“What has been really special is seeing those smaller, random acts of kindness that people have been showing, whether that’s on social media or just in the neighbourhood. When I was home in London for a time, the sense of community was so strong, whether it was checking in on each other, enjoying a driveway chat, or helping with grocery runs. There have been those who have stepped up and showcased their thoughtfulness and generosity, and that is so beautiful to witness during this tumultuous time.”

What has been something that has been challenging for you in the recent months, especially as Toronto settles into its second lockdown?

“The hardest thing is missing that human touch with the people you’re close to. Oddly enough, I always considered myself as not an affectionate person (laughs) and I’m really missing that now. I have two nieces and one is around 9 months old and I get these photos or videos and see her chunky little arms, and I just want to hold her so badly. I saw my other niece at a great distance in a field one day and it was so hard not to hug her. I feel that kind of sadness and loneliness.”

How have you been practicing self-care during this time?

“This time has made me realize that in ‘busy culture,’ people were deemed successful or living a full life if they were busy, and that was sort of my party line for a long time: People would say ‘How are you doing?’ and I would say ‘Oh, I’m so busy.’ And I really was. I was home maybe one day a month and I was always on the go. But this time has made me stop and reflect and really just sit in my emotions, sit with my feelings. And that has led to prioritizing self-care because I know now that I need those moments. I need the quiet time alone to journal or to reflect on my thoughts.

“In terms of working out, I’ve kind of done a full circle where I really had great departure from it for a bit because I didn’t want to feel like an athlete. And now I feel like, ‘Wow, I’m so grateful to be able to move my body and it feels good.’ That hit of endorphins is healthy. So I’m finding little moments like that throughout the day to treat myself.”

What have you been doing in lockdown when it comes to beauty?

“The nice thing is that I’ve been doing absolutely nothing! (Laughs) Letting my hair air dry, no makeup really, and it’s been so refreshing. The Nivea Micellar is a great cleanser that lets my skin be free and breathe. [I’ll use that] and Nivea moisturizer, and that’s been it.

“It’s been great, especially coming off of tours and competitions where the makeup is so heavy and there’s always a hot iron on my hair. I feel like my priorities have shifted and really, that doesn’t seem important at all anymore.”

Do you feel that your beauty routine has changed in recent months?  

“Because I’m not all that patient, I’m pretty low maintenance in general. But in terms of self-care, it’s been about making it more of a purposeful choice and a treat to dry brush and then moisturize, for example, or exfoliate and then use Nivea Care Cream. I do it more purposefully and it feels nice to be intentional about it.”  

Is there anything you’re going to be changing about your skincare regimen now that it’s getting colder?

“Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize! My skin is so sensitive and I’m used to being in a freezing cold, dry rink all the time so moisturizer has always been the key, especially with all that sanitizer now. I have moisturizer in my pockets, in my purse, in my car, every little place.”

What is keeping you feeling good in your own skin?

“There are a couple things. Moving. Working out. Sometimes it’s just stretching or doing a bit of yoga, whatever it is, just moving my body has been really good. And then also positive messages. It sounds crazy but just accepting whatever state my body is in today, in this moment, just acknowledging it and thanking it. [Thinking], ‘I’m grateful and this is what I’m working with and it’s good enough.’

Especially because we’re in this global health crisis, I think it forces you to be more grateful for what you have.

“I did an event with the singer Jully Black recently and she mentioned something about how important breath is right now and how grateful we can be for it when you think about people who are on ventilators. There’s so much to appreciate just with a simple inhale and exhale. I thought that perspective was really powerful, too.

“There are so many stories around right now that make you think, ‘Gosh, the stresses that seem huge in my relative bubble are not really that important.’ That perspective is key, I think.”

What are some of the most pleasant surprises that you’ve had this year?

“I thought I would be really restless if I wasn’t travelling so much, because that’s what I had grown accustomed to, and I was so surprised by how grounded and comforted I felt at the notion of not even seeing a suitcase for a while. That’s been really, really nice.

“And then, because those times are so fleeting when we do get to connect with family and friends, that joy is magnified. That is so special. Every little tiny moment or phone call seems like a more monumental event and I really try and savour all of those moments.”

—Flare

[starryknight09]

Surprise?

Febuwhump Day 27: identity reveal

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“Hey do you want to come over tonight?” Ned asked as they stood at their lockers, shoving their books into their backpacks.

“I can’t.  It’s a Friday remember?” Peter said, feeling kind of bad.  He knew he’d been neglecting Ned lately with everything that was going on in his life.  Juggling decathlon, school, homework, Spiderman, and his internship made it seem like there was just never enough time in the day, or week for that matter, for all the stuff he needed to get done.

“So?” Ned frowned.

“I have my Stark internship on Fridays.” He reminded him.

“Oh right.” Ned nodded as they walked down the hallway toward the school doors.  “So, are you going to tell Mr. Stark about you know what today?”

“Um no.” He winced.  He’d applied for the Stark internship on a whim a year ago and had actually gotten it.  The day he’d found out he was going to be interning directly under Tony Stark, he’d almost wet himself, but after almost a year of working with him, that had definitely faded.  As Mr. Stark would say, he sassed him more than he complimented him now.  

When he’d gotten bit by the radioactive spider six months ago, he’d thought about telling Mr. Stark about his new powers, but by then they’d grown close enough that he was worried Mr. Stark wouldn’t allow him to keep being Spiderman if he found out.  And then Ben had died.  And thoughts of anything else had gone out the window.

“Peter.” Ned chastised.  “It’s been weeks.  You should just tell him.  He’s going to figure it out soon anyway.”

“Not necessarily.  Spiderman’s been around for the last six months and Mr. Stark hasn’t figured it out yet.” Peter hedged.  Ok, so realistically he knew Mr. Stark would eventually figure it out, but he’d been extra careful ever since the man had started up his hunt to find out who Spiderman was.  Besides, Peter had an advantage.  He worked directly with his enemy, so he was always one step ahead of him and Mr. Stark had no idea.

“Yeah he’s been around for six months, but Mr. Stark has only been looking for him for the last three weeks.” Ned argued.  “He’s getting closer and you know it.”

Peter did know it.  On Wednesday Mr. Stark had shown him a clip of Spiderman swinging into an abandoned alleyway to change.  His mentor had been so sure he’d had him, but then a garbage truck had driven by the entrance of the alleyway just as Peter was leaving in his street clothes, luckily obscuring his identity.  Mr. Stark had sworn up a blue streak and Peter had made a mental note to be much more cognizant of city cameras whenever he was getting in and out of the suit.

“But if I tell him who I am then it’ll take all the fun out of it for him.” Peter smirked.  He’d known Mr. Stark long enough to know that as much as he kept complaining about ‘this webhead’ he was enjoying the challenge of it.  Peter didn’t want to spoil it for him.  At least that’s what he’d been telling himself the last few weeks ever since Mr. Stark had told him he wanted his help to find Spiderman.

“You’re playing with fire dude.” Ned warned as they passed through the school doors to outside.

“Why?  What’s he going to do to me if he finds out?” Peter said with false bravado.  “Ground me?  He’s not my dad.”

“Does he know that though?” Ned joked.  “Didn’t he pack you a lunch for school when you stayed over at his place last week?”

“Yeah.”

“And didn’t he spend all day watching a Star Wars marathon with you last weekend when he doesn’t even like Star Wars?”

Peter made a face.  Ok, so Ned kind of had a point.

“And don’t him and your aunt have like coffee dates every month now just to talk about you?”

“Ok ok I get it.”

“So how do you think he’s going to react when he finds out you’ve been keeping this from him?” Ned asked.

“He’s going to be pissed.” He decided.

“Right.” Ned nodded.  “And do you think he’ll be more or less pissed if he finds out on his own instead of you telling him about it?”

“Definitely more.” Peter agreed.

“Ok so you agree you should tell him today.”

“No.”

“Peter!” Ned shook his head.  “You’re hopeless.”

“It’s all a moot point anyway.  He’s not going to find out.”

“Hopeless and in denial.” Ned said.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Whatever dude.  It’s your funeral.  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ned clapped him on the shoulder and turned to start walking home.  “Text me if you want to hang out this weekend.”

“I will.” Peter said and made his way toward the nondescript Audi waiting for him.

“Hey Happy.” He greeted the man behind the steering wheel as he crawled in.  Or as he liked to think of him, not-so-Happy.

Happy didn’t respond to his greeting as he started driving away, but Peter still liked to think he was slowly growing on the man.

“Guess what we did in chemistry today?  Our teacher said—”

“I’ll give you this snickers bar if you don’t talk for the next ten minutes.” Happy interrupted, holding up said candy bar as proof.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” He stared out the window.  The man was bringing him candy now.  He was definitely growing on him.

**********

Ned was wrong.  Mr. Stark didn’t figure out Spiderman’s identity that week.  Or even the week after.  Or the week after that.  Although Peter did have another close call with a traffic camera he didn’t know was installed nearby when he’d taken his mask off to deal with a bloody nose.  In the intervening weeks, he’d thought more seriously about coming clean to his mentor because Mr. Stark was getting a little obsessive and it was making Peter’s life a lot harder.  He had to completely avoid the area near his apartment now because Tony had come up with an algorithm to track where Spiderman was sighted and he was using it as a tool to try to narrow in on his possible residence.  Admittedly smart, but super annoying for Peter because now he had to walk at least ten blocks home every night after Spidermanning.  And his mentor had even figured out the components of his web fluid, although he hadn’t been able to successfully reverse engineer it yet.  Part of Peter felt a spark of pride at that even though some of his Mr. Stark’s failure might’ve been his fault.  He’d been trying his hardest to slow him down.  But now that his mentor knew the web fluid materials, he was looking for people who had bought large quantities of those exact chemicals.  At least Peter was safe in that regard, he still mooched everything from his chemistry class.  But by now even Peter had to admit it was only a matter of time before Mr. Stark thought of something even Peter couldn’t foresee or deter.

Ned had been on his case the past week about telling the man and Peter was seriously considering it for the first time.  

“Hey Mr. Stark!” He greeted as he walked into the man’s lab, feeling his usual flash of wonder.  After a year, having access to Tony Stark’s private lab still hadn’t gotten old.

“Hey Mr. Parker.” His mentor said, spinning in his desk chair to face him.  “How many more times am I going to have to tell you to call me Tony?”

Peter shrugged.  Honestly, he did it now solely because he knew it annoyed him.  “What are you doing?” He asked, sidestepping the question and pointing to the holoscreens Mr. Stark had pulled up over his desk.

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to decide whether or not to push the name thing, but after a moment he twirled back to face the screens, letting it go.  “I’m hacking into a bodega’s security camera.”

Peter walked over to him, dropping his backpack on the ground next to the desk with the weight of the knowledge that it held the suit of the very vigilante Mr. Stark was looking for.  He stared at the screens over the man’s shoulder.  They looked oddly familiar.  “Why?”

“Because I’ve finally got the little pipsqueak.” Mr. Stark said with eager excitement.

“What are you talking about?  Because you’re starting to sound a little supervillainy...” Peter joked.

“Spiderman.” Mr. Stark answered.  “I finally got him.”

Peter’s heart leapt into his chest as he asked nervously, “You did?  Um h-how?”

“He repeatedly patrols around this area.” Mr. Stark explained and pointed to the corresponding area on the map of Queens.  The part right by Mr. Delmar’s shop.  Oh shit.  He hadn’t thought of that and he thought he’d been so careful.  “Ever since I realized it, I’ve had FRIDAY continuously scanning the traffic cameras and we got lucky.  She caught him going into this alleyway here.” Mr. Stark pointed to the alley on the screen.  “Now watch.  A minute later someone comes out.”

Peter watched himself exit the alleyway with his navy hoodie pulled up over his head to obscure his face.  He breathed a silent sigh of relief.  There was no way you could tell that was him.

“Now, I know you can’t see his face, and I couldn’t get a good enough angle from any other cameras in the area, but I managed to follow him the next three blocks to this bodega.  I screened the footage from outside of it for the previous hour before he goes in, and if I’m right, it should be completely empty except for him.”

Yeah, that tracked.  No one had been in there when he’d visited Mr. Delmar and Murph yesterday.

“So?” He asked, sensing Mr. Stark was waiting for him to do so.

“So my young grasshopper, whoever this guy is goes in with his hood up, but when he comes out ten minutes later, look.” Mr. Stark pointed to the screen.  “His hood is still up but the strings around it aren’t pulled tight anymore which means…”

“He took it off in the store.” Peter mumbled in shock.  He had taken it off in the store.  He’d thought he was safe, and he hadn’t wanted Mr. Delmar to think he was being a weirdo punk.

“He took it off in the store.” Mr. Stark repeated with satisfaction.  “So, if I can hack into the bodega’s security footage, I can finally figure out exactly who this little twerp is that’s been evading me these past couple months.”

“Uh huh.” He said distractedly as he tried to figure out a way out of this, but no ideas came to mind.  Shit.  He never should’ve stopped for a sandwich yesterday during patrol.  It didn’t matter how hungry he’d been or how good they tasted.

Mr. Stark continued typing away and moment later declared, “Ah ha!  I’m in.”

“Um Mr. Stark, there’s something I need to tell you.” Peter tried to nervously interject, but his mentor was in the zone.  Peter could’ve been screaming he was on fire and Mr. Stark wouldn’t have heard him.

“Get ready to be amazed kid.” Mr. Stark said, cocky as hell as he brought up the footage from the camera behind Mr. Delmar’s counter.  “It’s finally time to see exactly who you are Spiderman.”

“Uh…” He really needed to say something or do something or—

Too late.  The feed from Mr. Delmar’s camera came up on the screen.  He froze.  There was Mr. Delmar, and Murph lying on the counter, and there he was walking in with his hood over his head.  Shit.  His hand moved up to his hood.  It was a lot like watching a train wreck in slow motion.  And his hood was off.  His profile wasn’t very descript, but he knew any second he’d turn toward Mr. Delmar and be facing the camera straight on.  And yep.  There he was.  In all his idiot glory.

“Wait.” Mr. Stark frowned and leaned closer to the screen as if he didn’t believe his eyes.  “That looks like…”

Peter winced and a split second later Mr. Stark whirled to face him, face showing absolute shock.

“You.” Mr. Stark accused and then said in disbelief.  “It’s you.”

He fake shrugged, holding his hands out, palms up.  “Surprise?”

“What the f—”

“I’m sorry!”

Mr. Stark stood from his chair so fast it fell over backward.  He pointed a finger at him.  “You’re Spiderman?  This whole time I’ve been looking for him and he’s been in my own lab?  My very own intern?”

“Um, it looks like it?”

“Don’t be cute.  Yes or no.”

“Yes.” He nodded, backing up as Mr. Stark slowly advanced toward him.  Peter’s eyes widened.  “I was going to tell you!  I was!  But then I just…didn’t?”

“You were helping me look for him!”

Peter made a considering face.  “Well, I was pretending to?  But really I was trying to stay one step ahead of you.”

He bumped into his desk chair and fell into it.  Tony stood over him, arms crossed, still looking more than a little angry.

“How.  Did.  This.  Happen?” Tony ground out.

“Um, remember that field to Oscorp that I went on about six months ago that you said I shouldn’t go on?” Peter asked nervously.

“Yes.”

“Turns out you were right.” He said as he nodded.

“What?”

“I uh got bit by a radioactive spider, and it made me so sick I thought I was dying, but then I woke up and I was this.” He gestured at his body.

Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Oh.  Um.” He lifted his shirt so Mr. Stark could see his perfectly chiseled six pack abs.

“Jesus kid.” Mr. Stark shook his head.

“Oh and I lied about getting contacts.  I didn’t.  I just don’t need glasses anymore.  The bite fixed all of that.  And I don’t have allergies or asthma anymore either, so you can update that on my employee form if you want.”

“Yes because that’s what’s important right now.” Mr. Stark scoffed.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated although it seemed like Mr. Stark’s anger was cooling.  He didn’t look like he was about to have an aneurysm anymore.  “I should’ve told you when you started looking for Spiderman.  I know I wasted your time.”

“No!  You should’ve told me six months ago when it first happened!” Mr. Stark yelled.  Ok, so maybe he was still pretty mad.  “You thought you were dying and you didn’t tell anyone?  And then you woke up with superpowers and you still didn’t tell anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it.” He grimaced.

Mr. Stark put his hand over his face as she shook his head.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before dropping his hand and meeting Peter’s gaze to ask, “So no one knows?”

“Well, um, Ned knows because he caught me sneaking into my room as Spiderman, and now…you know.” Peter answered.

“May doesn’t know?”

“No.” He shook his head vehemently.

“Of course not.” Mr. Stark scoffed. “Because why would you tell a responsible adult you’re going out at all hours of the night to fight criminals.  Jesus.” Mr. Stark shook his head again in disbelief.  “You’re going out at all hours of the night to fight criminals.  Well that ends today.”

“No!” Peter shot to his feet and raised his chin as he faced Mr. Stark unflinchingly.  “I’m not going to stop!  And you can’t make me!” He knew the wording made him sound like a petulant child but he didn’t care.

Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows at him in challenge and Peter had to force himself to stand tall and not wither under his gaze.  Sometimes he forgot Mr. Stark was Ironman, Tony Stark, but at times like these, getting stared down by the man, he remembered.

Mr. Stark shook his head and said, “You’re fourteen years old.”  

“I’m fifteen!  And I know you know that!  You got me a birthday present.” He accused.  “Besides, I’ve been doing this for six months and I’ve been fine.  I’m not going to stop now.  And this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!  I knew you’d go all nuts about it!”

“Yes because not wanting to let a child run around in the middle of the night fighting crime is nuts.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a child!”

Mr. Stark frowned and the next second he suddenly spun on his heels and marched over to where he’d left his backpack, lifting it up to his desk and opening it.

“Hey that’s mine!” Peter protested, hurrying over to him but it was too late.  Mr. Stark fished out his Spiderman suit from the bottom of it and held it out.

“This? This is what you fight crime in?  It’s a onesie!”

“No it’s not.” He frowned.  He’d put a lot of work into making that.  He didn’t appreciate Mr. Stark making fun of it.

“What is it then?”

“My super suit.” He smiled.

“We are never watching The Incredibles again.” Mr. Stark shook his head.  “And what are these?” His mentor asked, holding up his goggles to his own eyes.  “How the hell do you even see anything through these?”

Peter snatched them from his hands.  “They help.  Ever since I got my powers all my senses are have been dialed to eleven.  There’s way too much input.  Those help me filter it out and focus.”

Mr. Stark frowned, looking at him in a way he never had before, like there might be something wrong with him, which didn’t make any sense.  He’d never once looked at weak, little, half blind, asthmatic Peter Parker the way he was now looking at Spiderman.  Peter didn’t like it.

Mr. Stark dropped his suit to his desk with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “So let me get this straight, you got bit by a radioactive spider, almost died but didn’t, woke up with super powers and then decided to sew a onesie and start swinging around town fighting crime?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Tell me why.  Why are you doing this?” The man ordered and Peter could tell this was important.

“Because…when you can do the things I can and you don’t and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” He explained solemnly and tried not to think of his uncle lying limp on the concrete, bleeding out.

Mr. Stark sighed and dropped back down into his desk chair, resting a fist over his mouth as he examined Peter.

Peter tried not to fidget under the scrutiny.

“If I let you do this, we’re doing it my way.” Mr. Stark finally spoke.

“Yes!” Peter thrust his arms in the air and then threw himself at Mr. Stark to hug him.  “Thank Mr. Stark!  Thank you!”

Mr. Stark patted his back awkwardly.  “Yeah.  All right.  All right.  Don’t thank me yet.  There are going to be ground rules.  A lot of ground rules.  And a curfew.”

“Aw come on.” Peter complained as he pulled away.

“And I don’t want to hear any sass about it, because you can say I can’t stop you all you want, but you and I both know I can.” Mr. Stark held a finger up at him in warning.  It was true.  He did know.  “First of all, I’m going to make you a suit.”

“Really?” His eyes went wide.

“Really.  You’re in dire need of an upgrade.  I can’t let you keep swinging around town in this.” Mr. Stark poked at his super suit as if was a stinky pile of garbage.

“It’s not that bad…” He argued but the thought of having a suit built for him by Mr. Stark made him want to jump up and down in excitement.

“And I’m telling May.” Mr. Stark said.

“No!  Please Mr. Stark, you can’t tell her!”

“She needs to know kid.  You’re her responsibility and you’re out there risking your life.”

“Risking my life is kind of an exaggeration.  I mean I don’t do that many dangerous things.  I’m more like the friendly neighborhood spiderman.”

“I saw a video of you webbing up bank robbers last week.  They were shooting at you.  Very real bullets.  Very real life risking danger.” Mr. Stark said, not amused.  A second later he frowned as he stared off in the distance at the wall behind Peter, looking like he was deep in thought.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter prompted.

“Just replaying in my head all those videos I’ve seen of you doing stupidly dangerous stunts.”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “They’re not that bad.”

Mr. Stark arched an eyebrow at him.

“Please don’t tell May.” He pleaded.  “If she knows she’s going to freak out and then I’m going to freak out and she doesn’t need this kind of stress right now, not after…” He trailed off, not wanting to talk about his uncle’s death.  He could tell Mr. Stark understood though because he made the face everyone made whenever Peter mentioned Ben these days.

Mr. Stark ran a hand down his face and nodded.  “Ok fine.”

“Thank you!”

“But I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.”

“Fine.” Peter didn’t like it, but it was better than the alternative.

“So.” Mr. Stark sighed and slapped his thighs before standing.  “That web fluid.  You made that yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Stark smiled, and Peter didn’t think he was imagining the pride in his eyes.  “Where’d you get the supplies?”

“Chemistry class.”

Mr. Stark snorted.  “Of course you did.  You want to walk me through how you make it?”

Peter grinned.  “Sure.”

Huh.  Maybe Ned had been right.  Mr. Stark finding out hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be.

[the-nehemoth]

Christmas with an AI

Looking at the clock on the ship’s computer – set to UTC as was standard for all spacecraft – revealed that it was officially December 1st, meaning it was Christmas time. Assuming the world still celebrated it anyway. Surely, they did, right? A holiday that big wouldn’t fade completely even after however long the Doom Slayer had been trapped in Hell for.

Not even counting that though, when was the last time he’d celebrated it? … A long time ago for sure; existing solely for the purpose of slaying demons didn’t exactly leave one with much time to worry about observing holidays even if he’d had someone to celebrate with. He could now though unless something happened between now and then. Which was entirely possible but not likely; another demon invasion was bound to happen eventually but the chances of it happening in that short of a window weren’t great. So for the first time in ages, he was going to celebrate Christmas.

He jerked forward in his chair to tap the screen and pull up the digital keyboard. ‘Hey VEGA do you think you could print some Xmas decorations?’ he typed.

“Of course, I’ll get right on that,” VEGA replied followed a few seconds later by the distant sound of the 3D printer starting up. “Would you like the tree pre-decorated or would you like to do that yourself? And would you like enough lights and tinsel for the whole ship or just a few rooms?”

‘I’ll decorate the tree myself. As for decorating every room or just a few, whatever you’d prefer if you have a preference.’ VEGA resided in the ship too even if it wasn’t the same way the Doom Slayer did and thus he should have a say in the decorating too.

“Will do.”

“Ty <3’

 -

It took several hours for everything to be printed during which they hung out and chatted mostly about Christmas and all the ways it had changed from what little the Doom Slayer recalled of it. Naturally it had become less and less of a religious holiday over the years. The idea of Santa Claus had changed in various ways, especially after the North Pole was destroyed by global warming. But the general concepts of holiday cheer and exchanging gifts remained even if a large part of that had to do with corporations capitalizing on it and pushing it for profit every year.

Once everything was printed and ready to go, the Doom Slayer began decorating, taking his time because there was no reason to rush. VEGA had printed out enough to decorate the whole ship. He even had pointers and requests for how and where some lights and tinsel should be hung all of which the Doom Slayer listened to of course. And while he worked, VEGA played Christmas music over the intercom, both old stuff that was recognizable and newer stuff that for the most part oddly still had that distinct Christmas music vibe to it.

Also, while he worked he contemplated the gift giving side of the holiday. Missi would be easy, a large bag of her favourite treats would do nicely. VEGA on the other hand was much harder. What was one supposed to get an AI for a gift? Especially when said AI had an advanced 3D printer that could make basically anything he wanted as long as he had the materials and power for it? He liked romance novels and romcom movies but those he could and did find on the internet much easier than the Doom Slayer ever could. So… what could the Doom Slayer get him that he couldn’t possibly get for himself?

Despite how long decorating and then at VEGA’s insistence napping and having breakfast gave him to come up with an answer to that question, he still had none. So, it was time to resort to good old fashioned just asking.

‘What would you like for Xmas?’ he typed into the computer in his office.

A second or two of silence passed before VEGA answered, not long by human standards but definitely longer than usual for him. “No one’s ever asked me that before.” Not surprising but still rather sad. “I don’t really need anything. I appreciate the offer though.”

‘I didn’t ask what you needed, I asked what you want?’

“Well… I already have everything I want. What more could I ask for?”

The Doom Slayer shrugged because he didn’t know either. ‘Think about it?’ There was still plenty of time, not much but enough hopefully.

“Will do. … Oh actually, maybe there is something you could get me. You know that painting you had commissioned of yourself and Daisy hanging in your office? Do you think that perhaps you could get more paintings to hang up around the ship for decoration? I could just commission it myself now that I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure what I would ask for.”

‘I can do that.’ The hardest part about that would be finding a good artist who could get a piece done in time for Christmas. Preferably a few artists so he could have several artworks to hang up around the ship for VEGA. It should be doable though.

“Thank you. Now it’s my turn. What would you like for Christmas?”

The easy answer would be another gun and/or some more ammo for the BFG and Unmaykr because of how hard it was to come by and how many resources had to go into making it. But VEGA gave him such things regularly without him ever even needing to ask for it. So instead he should ask for something special, perhaps something not related to killing demons at all. What though? … ‘An electric guitar perhaps?’ He used to play electric guitar fairly frequently, though that’s the only thing he remembered about it now but perhaps it’d be nice to start it up again. ‘Or a friend for Missi?’ There was plenty of room on the ship for multiple animals. ‘Or anything else you might think I’d like. Surprise me.’

“Noted.” VEGA’s voice was accompanied by a large emoji heart flashing onto the computer screen, bringing a smile to the Doom Slayer’s face.

‘<3!’

[ji-yaaan]

𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖈𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖊

A Lilia Vanrouge x Reader Oneshot

Note: Jk guys this is just a drabble I made while I drank a bitter gross black coffee just for kicks :'( Also this is my first time making a fanfic so yes, it's kinda OoF and is probably bad but why not? Emirite???? This is the last braincells I have and I hope y'all enjoy it :'))))))

Mistakes were made under the cut!^~^

It was a peaceful afternoon with the beautiful sunset hues that illuminated your room. Ah..... how nice, the room feels alive again a smile graced your lips, as a silent creak of the door alerted you that someone has come to your room. You knew well who that person is. Just by thinking about him makes your heart flutter. "Lilia, love!" You cheerfully exclaimed at the small fae that stood before you."I'm back, little lamb." he smiled.

A moment of silence passed by, with you and Lilia looking at each other's eyes. Just by the view of the beautiful fae illuminated with rose tinted hues was enough to give you butterflies. Ah..... as expected from my lover! you thought. The two of you basked in the soft light that illuminated your room, how peaceful this moment is...

But that peace was soon broken when the fae said "I'm sorry my love..... I still haven't found the potion yet..... But worry not. I have taken care of the bastard that dares to mock-"

"shhhhhhh" you silenced the fae. "Everything's alright.... but can we talk about more happy things? If I were to die at any moment, I'd like to experience the most happiest moments in life in each passing second!" You jokingly said.

You sigh in dissapointment as you recall of the events that have unfolded a month ago. It was just a normal and happy day for you. You were so excited to visit the Diasomnia Dorm and most importantly, your lover, Lilia Vanrouge. This expedition of you was a normal occurence, rather, a routine that started when you started to like Lilia. But something feels weird, the Diasomnia dorm is awfully quiet today.....Your mind went blank, as a bright light blinded your eyes, you felt a sharp painful sensation in your chest, that caused you to faint.

Now why were you targeted? That is an obvious question to be answered "Because you are closeley affiliated with malleus and I. I didnt know there are still morons in this world that are stupid enough to mess with us, moreover, they harmed you...." Lilia said with anger and pain present in his eyes and a dark expression covering his face.

You woke up in a unfamiliar room, and to your demise, Malleus said the bright light that hit you was a curse resulting eventual death upon the victim. Thankfully, Malleus was there to stop the curse..... But not entireley. Magic can only do so much for a strong ancient curse.

Soon, day went by, weeks went by, with Lilia trying to find the potion to cure his lover, only to be left empty handed each time he comes home. It's an ancient curse that requires a certain potion in order to break it, naturally with ancient curses, the cure is very hard to find. That's why in the few remaining days of your life, you wished to make the most of it.

Waking up was difficult due to the fact that you knew you could die any momet, it was a happy and scary feeling..... You were thankful you woke up from slumber, but at the same time, you were afraid that you might dissapear from the world in any moment..... It sure was a mind baffling experience.

But now, you feel like you've reached your limit. It feels like your nightmare is finally taking form. Your eyelids are growing heavy from strain, your body is starting to feel numb minute after minute, and eternal slumber threatens to devour you in any moment. But there you are, staring straight at Lilia, the most precious person in your life. You feel alive again.

"(Y/n) I love you" Lilia said as your lips curl up to form a weak smile "I know..... But i love you more! hehe" Your knees started to feel weak and you fell unto the ground. Your hands started to feel numb as you cough up blood.

As odd as it sounds, this occurence is normal now, due to the fact that you are walking in the border between life an death.

The crimson blood that laced your fingers made you chuckle, it reminded you of Lilia's beautiful eyes that sparkled like rubies. Soon enough, those eyes are now looking at you with worry and demise clearly present in the fae's eyes. "Hehe, Lilia I think I'm starting to feel a bit drowsy now. But I dont want to sleep yet, can we dance?" You left out a weak laugh trying your hardest to look happy and strong in front of lilia's eyes. To your surprise, you see Lilia with a pained expression you've never seen before. "Dear, what have you done to me? You're just a weak little human that piqued my interest before. But look where we are now, I just averted my eyes for a brief second, and now they did this to you because of me.....I-....... Promise me that in your next lifetime, don't flock yourself with dangerous people like me alright?" A whine escaped you lips as your vision started to get blurry from the tears that are welling up in your eyes... "Hey Lilia darling, I just asked you for a dance right? I won't look cool if you turn me down like this..."

Frustration, worry, anger, and guilt welled up in Lilia's heart as his dear (y/n) stared at him sitting on the ground in front of him. He truly felt guilty that he was the reason why his lover ended up like that. (Y/n) deserves better than this. he thought. But now, he is so frustrated to see his darling helplessly smiling at him, pretending that everything is alright. It pained him to see his love slowly succumbing to the hands of death. A danse macabre indeed..

The look of strain and fatigue plastered all over (y/n)'s face made his heart drop. Lilia then stood up on his feet and asked "(y/n) darling, May I have this dance?"

Lilia then picked you up with your hands and the both of you waltz across the large bedroom illuminated by the bright hues of the sky, with lilia humming a familiar tune, you felt very relaxed in his grasp, you thought to yourself it would be nice if time were to stop at this moment, how romantic..... You giggled at your silly thoughts of a pipedream. "What is it little lamb? Falling for me harder now huh?" You started giggling like a little girl with Lilia's comment.

That is until a sharp pain in you chest started devouring you, making your legs feel numb and weak as the two of you fell onto the soft sheets of your bed. The look of pain plastered all over your face, with each second that passed, it feels like hell is devoring your soul,but when you look up, you see lilia with his worried and pained expression, his eyes glossy due to tears forming in his eyes. his biggest fear has finally begun to unfold right before his eyes. On the other hand, you felt your body started to grow numb with each second.

Pinning you from the bed, Lilia grabs your hand and squeeze it tightly, you felt like your fingers could break any second, but oddly enough, it felt pleasant and reasuring this pain is the feeling of being alive huh? Thank God I'm still alive you thought to yourself. "Dont go (y/n)! you're not allowed to leave me." Salty tears fell on your cheeks, as you felt your heart dropped feeling weak in death's grasp. The fae trailed kisses after kisses in your neck, tears began to fall, as his voice cracked and said "(y/n) , in all the years I've lived, you are the best thing that happend to me, you made me feel alive again, you're the most precious person I love, and I will keep you in my heart forever, I love you so much....... please don't forget that" hearing this is one of the best feelings in the world, you truly felt that it would be nice to die like this........ But maybe... just maybe... you can stay just for a bit longer.

"Lilia, if I ever get to have the power to go back in time where I first got here in twisted wonderland, do you know what I'd do? I would change nothing! Hehe! I would gladly meet you again and love you again! That would be like a treat for me! I get to relive all the best moments of my life all over again. I won't ever regret loving you, my darling....." A weak smile formed in your lips as you continued "if I were to get reincarnated, I wish that I will meet you and love you all over again! So you've gotta wait for me! And...... I love you too lilia Vanrouge senpai..." A dull pain in your chest started to hurt you again but soon enough, Lilia pressed his lips unto yours, tasting the salty tears mixed with the distinct flavor of licorice, you chuckled to yourself. The two of you embraced watching the sun finally set.

As the sky turned dark with the stars twinkling in the sky. "Lilia, you know, I feel very sleepy now, I'm really tired now..." You felt Lilia embrace you tighter as your vision gets blurry, and you feel every part of you has now grown numb.

"I hope you dream lots about me my sweet little (y/n)....." Your senses are now starting to shut down as you feel eternal slumber could devour you any moment "I love you lilia..." You finally felt you've crossed the border between life and death

"I love you too..." A weak smile graced your face as the cold night finally settled in.....

-The End-

So yes guys, this is me chilling here trying to delay and procrastinate on the rotting fanarts I'm making. If i look at my drawings, they would look at me judging my dumb decisions but oh well......