#would you believe me if I said i drew most of this in a day lol

[shadowofaghost5]

Give it up for everybody’s favourite street rat!!!

-

Fanart of Aaron from Fox’s Tounge and Kirin’s Bone, an incredible book by @muffinlance

I worked hard on this an am incredibly proud of how it turned out. If you wanna hear about the process, feel free to check out me rambling in the tags.

[beanbeanbee]

That’s a lot of fish

[breadbrobin]

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

[artificial-transmutations]

The wedding getaway

A mile in each other's shoes

"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."

Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.

"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."

Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.

"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."

Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.

"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"

In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.

"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"

"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"

Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?

"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."

With a flip of her hair, she walked away.

Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.

It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...

The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.

Black.

There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.

"Lance."

Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"

He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.

"Yes."

Jamal spat the word.

"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"

Lance gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"

Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.

The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.

"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"

Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.

"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."

A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.

"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."

These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.

Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.

The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.

When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.

With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.

Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.

That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?

The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.

Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.

"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.

No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.

Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.

Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.

With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.

Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.

Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!

However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.

Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.

He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...

This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.

"Ahh, fuck, yes..."

He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.

Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"

"Uhh, no. I was... not."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"

Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.

Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.

And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.

And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.

Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?

No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.

Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.

After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.

Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.

Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.

For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?

In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.

A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.

Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!

Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.

Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.

Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.

The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.

He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.

The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.

Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.

"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."

"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.

Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.

Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.

However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.

Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.

Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.

He was.

As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.

What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.

If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!

[rose-maidenn]

Astro observations 1

Tropical + Sidereal

Tropical

If you have mercury sextile venus as a women your voice gives you an upper hand in your career , example Sofia Vergara being famous for her acting as well as her unique voice , lana del rey for her vocal range , Rihanna , Kim Kardashian memes lol .

If as a man you have mercury sextile venus it shows up as an upper hand in your thoughts and creativity , often times men with this placement are very soft spoken and understanding , in a dark way they could be manipulative as well . They mostly create a world of wonders for themselves and have distinct contributions towards art or way of life . Eg : Walt Disney , Ewan Mcgregor in big fish

Scorpio men give high school bad boy vibes , their upper body might be larger then their lower body , fellas don't skip leg day

Wanna start content creation or wanna be a singer , check your moon sign , a popstar might become popular based on the emphasis on either vocal range, lyricism, performance (credits to the instagram reel i watched lol i lost the link ) eg : scorpio women embody the performer persona most strongly , for example: Beyonce , Miley Cyrus , Lady gaga etc (vedic - Vishakha)

Cancer sun women mostly embody the trashy girl aesthetic.

Though widely considered meek , the cancer sun embodies a badass feministic yet kind vibe to them eg : Princess Diana , Selena Gomez , MIA, Frida Kahlo , often turn out to be revolutionaries and make changes in their own fields .

Pluto in the 5th is an amazing placement for fashion designers or in the field of marketing in the field , eg: Coco chanel , Miuccia Prada , Donatella Versace etc . 5th is the house of creativity and pluto being in it bring something out of the ordinary to make the person famous.

Pluto in 5th might also suffer from a turbulent childhood often with home relocation or absent parents

Mercury in 9th might be forced to grow up earlier , these people embody wisdom beyond years, often time resulting in void eg : Drew Barrymore, Mila Kunis lying about her age to get roles , Brooke shields .

Mercury in 9th is also a good placement for writers, eg : Sylvia plath , Agatha Christie, Emily Bronte .

Sidereal

Purva Bhadrapada women are very activist and stand for what they believe in , they make really good points in an debate👏

Punarvasu sun will give you fuller lips . Mostly downturned

Gemini men often have a wild chemistry with Sagittarius men 😭😂 the gemini man either admires the Sagittarius or hates them , like a frenemy vibe .

Libra men have the rake energy they flirt with everyone but they also make you feel like you're the only girl 😭 tf

Moon conjunct Saturn is said to give a bad relationship with mother but I have observed that if it is in the 12 th house it actually gives a good relationship, as there's more understanding .

As a jupiterian myself I won't advise to dye your hair blonde if you have prominent jupiter ,it makes me even more delusional. I would recommend brown for grounding and inviting creativity in your life .

Idk mars dom men are too good to me I like them so much, I've seen that in other cases as well so I will say jup dom 🤝 mars dom.

Rahu doms are underdogs yall , mostly people underestimate them until one day they put all their energy into something and prove themselves .

Uttara Ashadha girls act as they're stupid but they're observing so much , they might have really captivating eyes , puppy eyes if I say .

If two people have asc-moon synastry , they love each other and loathe each other because of their similarities , their is also a tendency of copying the others gestures or fashion .

Ketu doms push people away and then say they're lonely , it takes a lot to understand the inner rich world of ketu doms , which I think venus doms get to a degree.

Rohini people have a certain liking towards the metal of gold , and it will bring you auspiciousness if you buy them gold.

That's all for today hope yall enjoyed , I think you can read both observations interchangeably hehe I tried a new format hope yall like it . Dm me if you want to book a chart reading or an astrology reading 🫶

Thank you for reading

[periprose]

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

[mononijikayu]

ligaya — itadori yuuji.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!” Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?” Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?” Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Hugging, Track and Field! Yuuji, Pole Vaulter! Reader;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i got the idea for this after i kept seeing olympic couples and olympians and their partners just be the epitome of love in paris. itadori yuuji just felt perfect for something like this. and so does the song ligaya by eraserheads. anyway, i love you all!!! ill see you guys on together. that's about to get sad, but im not sure if it will have sad smut. we shall see~

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

IF HE SPOKE TO HIS CHILD SELF, HE WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Because, how can he explain it? Him? The Itadori Yuuji— head over heels in love. It felt like a fever dream that can only come from fantasies. How could he be in love at all?

How did this even happen? When he swore that he didn’t need that in his life? Over doing his track practice? More than his mother’s food? He thinks that his younger self would have ended up with a coma. Hell, maybe Todo or his brothers — even Uncle Sukuna would be in shock.

Itadori Yuuji never imagined himself as the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels in love. Sure, he was friendly, enthusiastic, and had a smile for just about everyone, but love? It seemed like an impossible notion.

Perhaps an even more ridiculous thing. A feeling that was not for him, not in that way most people dream of. That was for other people, is what he always said—until you transferred into his department. 

The moment Yuuji first laid eyes on you, it was like the world around him faded into the background, leaving only you and the pole vault. He had seen countless athletes, witnessed incredible feats of strength and agility, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you.

The way you moved, your body soaring through the air with effortless grace, made it seem like defying gravity was just second nature to you. To him, it was like watching poetry in motion—a dance between you and the sky.

Something inside him shifted as he watched you clear the bar with ease, your landing smooth and controlled, as if you had done it a thousand times before. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pull, a deep, unexplainable connection that made his heart race. You were different—strong, confident, and so completely at ease in your own skin.

It wasn’t just your athleticism that drew him in, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way you seemed to own every moment, how you faced challenges head-on, your eyes always focused on the next goal. There was a fire in you, a determination that Yuuji couldn’t help but admire.

He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to you, why his heart beat a little faster whenever you were near. All he knew was that something had changed, like a switch had been flipped inside him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in deep—so deep that there was no going back.

It was as though he had never truly seen the sun before that moment, like he had been wandering through life in a shadowy half-light, only to look up at you, soaring above the earth, and finally see the full brilliance of day. You were the sun, radiating warmth and light, and for the first time, Yuuji felt truly alive.

So, Yuuji did what he did best—he jumped in with both feet, headfirst and heart open, determined to win you over. It was how he approached everything in life, with boundless energy and optimism, believing that if he just gave it his all, anything was possible. He didn’t hesitate to show you how much you meant to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve, unafraid to make grand gestures.

He showed up at your practices, cheering you on, even when you barely acknowledged him. He left notes in your locker, little reminders that he was thinking of you, that he was rooting for you, no matter what. He even stood outside your dorm window one night, singing a goofy love song, hoping to make you smile.

But you kept saying no.

Each time, you turned him down, politely but firmly. You appreciated his efforts, you said, but you were focused on your sport, on your goals. There wasn’t room for distractions, and you couldn’t afford to let anyone—no matter how sweet or determined—get in the way of what you were trying to achieve.

Yuuji understood, or at least he tried to. But it didn’t make it any easier. Every “no” felt like a small cut, stinging just a bit more than the last. But despite the rejection, Yuuji couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something about you, something that kept pulling him back, making him want to try again, to prove that he could be the one to make you happy.

And it wasn’t the kind of no that meant “maybe later” or “try harder,” it was a clear, polite, and definitive no. You were kind about it, of course, always smiling and thanking him for the effort, but Yuuji could see through it. Because that’s who you were. You were sunshine itself.

And so each time, even if it became repetitive, you smiled at him and treated him kindly. Even though you weren’t interested, you were interested in being his friend and perhaps, he could live with that. But something in him, the most honest part of him knew that he couldn’t let go. 

Each time you turned him away, Yuuji felt the sting, but he also felt the same determination rising within him. He wasn’t discouraged; he was driven. He saw each rejection as a challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, much like the ones he faced on the track.

And just like in his races, he wasn’t going to back down until he crossed the finish line. To Yuuji, it wasn’t about winning you over for the sake of it—it was about showing you that someone could care that much, that deeply, and that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always get back up. Because to him, you were worth every effort, every bruise, and every tear.

Today here he was, sitting in the school’s café, his head on the table, groaning as Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki sat across from him, trying their best to look patient. They were supposed to be working on their on class presentation for Cardiorespiratory Fitness by now, but with Yuuji being an utter lovestruck mess — his two friends were sure that they wouldn’t be able to get any work done.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!”

Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?”

Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Love? Yuuji, that’s pretty heavy. Are you sure it’s love?”

Yuuji nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I think I really do. I just want to be part of their world, you know? Make them happy, love them. I’d even help with their thesis if that’s what it takes! And that says a lot, because we’re on different levels! They’re smarter!”

Nobara rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You can’t make someone love you, Yuuji. Maybe you should back off a bit and just be their friend. They might appreciate that more.”

Yuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping as he thought about it. The idea of stepping back, of not doing everything he could to win you over, made his heart ache. He had poured so much of himself into trying to make you see how much he cared, but maybe Nobara was right.

“But what if they never see me as more than that?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What if I’m just that annoying guy who keeps bothering them?”

Nobara softened at his vulnerability. She wasn’t used to seeing Yuuji like this—so unsure, so worried. “Yuuji, you’re not annoying. Well, not more than usual.” she said, her tone gentler than before.

"Hey!"

“But listen, you’re sweet, and anyone can see how much you care. But sometimes, people need space. They need time to figure out their own feelings without any pressure. If you really care about them, you’ll give them that space.”

Yuuji nodded slowly, but the doubt lingered. He had always been the type to go all in, to give everything he had to the people he cared about. Holding back didn’t come naturally to him. “I just don’t want to lose them.” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Megumi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his tone measured and calm. “Yuuji, you won’t lose them by giving them space. In fact, it might be what they need to see you in a different light. But you have to be patient, and you have to respect their choice.”

Yuuji looked at Megumi, searching his friend’s eyes for reassurance. “But what if they never change their mind? What if they never see me the way I see them?”

Megumi leaned forward, his gaze steady and full of understanding. “Then you have to accept that.” he said firmly. “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force someone to feel something they don’t. If they ever change their mind, they’ll let you know. But until then, don’t push too hard. It’ll only make things worse.”

Yuuji absorbed Megumi’s words, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest. He knew Megumi was right—it wasn’t fair to push you into something you weren’t ready for, or maybe something you didn’t want at all. But the thought of just being your friend, of stepping back, felt like giving up on something he wanted more than anything.

Nobara reached out, placing a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes, being a good friend is more important than trying to be something more. If you really care about them, you’ll be there for them, no matter what. And who knows? Maybe that’s what they need to realize how special you are.”

Yuuji looked between his two friends, their words sinking in. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was the right one. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll back off… but I won’t stop caring.”

Megumi nodded approvingly. “That’s all you can do, Yuuji. Just be yourself, and let them come to you if they’re ready.”

Nobara smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

Yuuji managed a small smile, the weight in his chest easing just a little. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.” 

Nobara nodded approvingly, while Megumi gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Yuuji might have been hopelessly in love, but at least he was starting to understand that sometimes, the best way to love someone was to let them come to you in their own time. And he’ll be patient. He knows how to do that. His brother Choso taught him how to be. 

As they continued to sit together, Yuuji couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and uncertainty. He didn’t know what the future held, but he was grateful for friends who would support him through it all. For now, he’d focus on being the best friend he could be. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. It had to be. He believes it to be.

Over the next few days, Yuuji did his best to dial things back. He still watched you from afar during practice, his heart skipping a beat every time you cleared the bar with that effortless grace. But instead of approaching you with grand gestures or serenades, he tried to be more subtle, more considerate. 

He’d offer a friendly wave when you caught his eye and cheer you on quietly during your pole vaulting sessions. Every now and then, he’d strike up casual conversations, asking how your day was going or chatting about track and field events. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time he saw you, he had to fight the urge to blurt out how he felt, to tell you that all he wanted was to be with you. 

One afternoon, you were sitting on a bench after practice, cooling down and scrolling through your phone when Yuuji approached you cautiously. He noticed that you seemed a little tired, maybe even a bit stressed.

“Hey.” he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. “How’s it going? You look like you could use a break.”

You glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Been working on my thesis, and it’s been kind of a headache.”

Yuuji’s eyes lit up. This was it—an opportunity to help you without being too pushy. “Really? What’s it about? Maybe I could help somehow?”

You hesitated for a moment, and Yuuji’s heart raced, hoping you wouldn’t shut him down again. But then you sighed and leaned back on the bench. “It’s about the biomechanics of pole vaulting, actually. I’m trying to analyze different techniques and how they affect performance, but the data’s all over the place.”

Yuuji nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying rather than the fact that you were actually talking to him about something important. “That sounds tough. But hey, I’m pretty good at organizing stuff—maybe I could help you sort through the data or something?”

To his surprise, you didn’t immediately say no. Instead, you looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. “You really want to help?”

“Of course!” Yuuji said quickly, not wanting to sound too eager but failing miserably. “I mean, only if you want me to. I don’t want to, you know, be a bother.”

You chuckled softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “Alright, Yuuji. I could use an extra pair of eyes on this. But just so you know, it’s going to be boring. Like, really boring.”

Yuuji grinned, feeling a surge of hope. “Boring’s fine with me. As long as I can help you out.”

Over the next few weeks, you and Yuuji spent more time together, working on your thesis. He was true to his word—organizing data, making notes, and offering encouragement whenever you hit a rough patch. He didn’t push his feelings, didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he focused on being there for you, just as Megumi and Nobara had suggested.

And as time went on, you started to see a different side of Yuuji. He wasn’t just the guy who sang outside your window or left notes in your locker. He was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in your work. He made you laugh, and he always seemed to know when you needed a break or a bit of encouragement.

One evening, after hours of working on your thesis, you were utterly exhausted. The words on the screen blurred together, your eyes heavy with sleep. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.

Yuuji, who had been quietly organizing some of your research papers, noticed the slump in your shoulders and the tired sigh that escaped your lips. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”

You shook your head, trying to muster the energy to keep going. “I can’t. I still have so much to do, and the deadline is coming up fast.”

Yuuji crouched down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “I know, but you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this. Just a short break, okay? I’ll make you some tea, and we can relax for a bit.”

Before you could protest, Yuuji was already in the kitchen, brewing a pot of your favorite tea. You watched him move with practiced ease, grateful for his presence. When he returned, he handed you a steaming mug and smiled. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.”

You took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your hands, and let out a tired sigh. “Thanks, Yuuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yuuji’s smile softened as he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. I’m here to help. And right now, you need to rest.”

He gently guided you to the couch, where you reluctantly settled down, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. Yuuji sat beside you, his presence comforting and reassuring. As you sipped your tea, the tension in your body began to ease, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Yuuji noticed the way you were fighting to stay awake, and with a soft chuckle, he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. “It’s okay if you want to close your eyes for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You looked at him, his warm eyes and gentle smile, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore. The stress that had been weighing you down seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Maybe just for a little while, you know?” you mumbled, already feeling yourself drifting off.

Yuuji nodded, watching as your eyes slowly closed, your breathing evening out as sleep took over. He stayed by your side, keeping watch as you slept, ready to offer support the moment you needed it. And as he looked at you, peaceful and relaxed, he felt a deep sense of contentment. This was all he wanted—to be there for you, to make sure you were okay, to be part of your world in whatever way you would allow.

As the evening turned into night, Yuuji gently adjusted the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing beside him, and smiled to himself. He didn’t need anything else. As long as he could be there for you, that was enough.

When you woke up the next morning, your eyes fluttered softly against the sunlight streaming in through the window. You felt warmth beside you, and as you turned your head, inches away was Itadori Yuuji, still fast asleep. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

For a moment, you just watched him, taking in the peaceful expression on his face. You’d never noticed before how calm and serene everything felt when he was around. It was as if all the chaos in your mind quieted just by being near him.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, almost one of relief. You were glad that it was him—that he was the one who stayed with you, who was always there. This sweet angel, who had gone out of his way to support you, to make sure you were okay.

“I might as well cook you some breakfast.” you whispered to yourself, smiling at the thought. You carefully stood up, making sure not to wake him. As you passed by him, you couldn’t resist letting your fingers brush lightly through his fuchsia hair. “You worked hard, Yuuji.” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.

You made your way to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of his presence still wrapping around you. As you started preparing breakfast, the sound of sizzling eggs and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft rustling from the couch, followed by a sleepy yawn.

Yuuji appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably tousled. When he saw you, a bashful smile spread across his face, and his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Good….morning.” he greeted you timidly, still half-asleep.

You turned to him, returning his smile. “Good morning, Yuuji. Did at least manage to sleep somewhat okay?”

He nodded, his gaze drifting to the breakfast you were preparing. “Yeah, I did. Thanks… for everything.”

You set down the spatula and walked over to him, your heart warming at his shy demeanor. “No, Yuuji, thank you…..” you said earnestly, your eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me with everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Yuuji’s blush deepened, and he quickly waved off your gratitude as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I could help.”

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “It’s not nothing, Yuuji. It’s a big deal to me. You’ve been here, doing all this because… because you’re a good person. And I know it’s also because you like me.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, you continued, your voice growing softer, more vulnerable. “I… I feel something for you too, Yuuji. I didn’t realize it before, but… I do. It’s just… I want to take things slow.”

You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what he would say, or how he would react, but you needed to be honest with him.

Yuuji stood there for a moment, processing your words. Then, a gentle smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with warmth. “I understand.” he said quietly. He reached out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m just happy to know you feel something for me too.”

You looked up at him, relief and happiness washing over you. His hand in yours was warm, comforting, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. “Thank you, Yuuji,” you whispered.

He shook his head, still smiling. “No, thank you. For letting me be part of your world.”

As you stood there, holding hands in the morning light, the aroma of breakfast filling the air, everything felt just right. There was no rush, no pressure—just the promise of something real, something that could grow into something beautiful, one step at a time.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

YOU MADE IT THE OLYMPICS, THE TWO OF YOU. The day you found out you had qualified for the Olympics felt like a dream. All the hard work, the long hours of training, the sacrifices—it had all paid off. You were going to the Olympics. And as if the universe had planned it, Yuuji had qualified too, in track and field. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything you’d both worked so hard for. 

But what you hadn’t expected was the way your feelings for Yuuji would grow, almost as if they were catching up to the realization that he had been right there beside you all along.

You admired his determination, his relentless positivity, but you kept your distance, unsure if you could let someone in when you were so focused on your goals. Yet, Itadori Yuuji never wavered. He was at every pole vault tournament, even the ones miles away, often booking tickets last minute just to make sure he was there.

Even if he has to move around stuff for his own practice, even if he had other projects he had to do. It didn't matter. He wanted to be there. He wanted to go and see you and cheer you on. And every time, without fail, whether you won or lost, he would be in the front row, holding flowers and a letter, his bright smile shining through the crowd. 

At first, you didn’t know how to react. How does one manage to, when such devoted acts are offered to you so genuinely, in front of the world? How would one function, when there’s so much love given by one person that it could fill the world with pints of it. You were touched, truly. But of course I was also confused. You could feel your palms sweaty, when he tries to take your hand to hold. Or when he smiles, you feel like you have butterflies in your tummy. 

Was this really just a crush for him? What are crushes supposed to be like? You don’t think you remember. The last time you had a crush, it was on a 2D anime character. And that’s not a real experience. Or was it something more? You had to think it through. You care about him deeply, you do. But what do you actually feel for him? What does he actually mean to you? What is he to you?

Over time, though, as you saw how much he truly cared—not just about you as an athlete, but as a person—you started to see him differently. You noticed how he never pressured you, how he respected your space, but always made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what.

You began to anticipate his presence at your tournaments, looking forward to seeing his face in the crowd. His letters, filled with words of encouragement and affection, became something you treasured, often reading them late at night when you needed a boost.

And then, one day, as you stood on the podium after a particularly grueling tournament, looking out into the crowd, your eyes locked with Yuuji’s. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his smile as radiant as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of pride, love, and unwavering support—that made your heart skip a beat. 

In that moment, you realized that you had fallen for him. 

It wasn’t just his persistence or his kindness; it was the way he made you feel seen and valued, both on and off the field. He didn’t just love you for your achievements—he loved you for who you were, even when you were at your lowest. And that was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After the ceremony, you found Yuuji waiting for you, just like he always did. He handed you the flowers, a bashful smile on his face. “You were amazing out there, you know!” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But you always are.”

You took the flowers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the compliments. “Thanks, Yuuji.” you said softly, looking up at him. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you’re always here.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the shift in your tone. “You don’t have to thank me, pretty.” he said quickly. “I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? I care about you. A lot.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the words you’d been holding back finally rise to the surface. “I know. And I care about you too, Yuuji. More than I realized.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you were saying. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—one of pure, unfiltered joy. “Really?”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Really. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Yuuji.”

His reaction was immediate—he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet as he spun you around, laughing like he’d just won the lottery. When he finally set you down, he looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart flutter. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long!” he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion. “But it was worth it. Every single second. You will always be worth it. All of it.”

As you stood there, surrounded by the noise of the crowd and the smell of fresh flowers, you realized that your dream had come true in more ways than one. You had qualified for the Olympics, yes, but you had also found something even more precious—someone who loved you for who you were, someone who would stand by your side no matter what. And as you leaned in to kiss Yuuji, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

epilogue 

The energy at the Olympic Stadium was electric, buzzing with anticipation as the final race approached. You sat in the stands, surrounded by a sea of spectators, but your focus was entirely on the track below. Itadori Yuuji stood at the starting line, his gaze steady, his body coiled like a spring ready to launch.

You knew how much this race meant to him—how much he’d poured into his training, how every ounce of his determination was about to be unleashed in those few, crucial seconds.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, signaling the start, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in sync with the cheers around you. Then, the gun fired, and Yuuji shot forward, a blur of speed and power. The crowd roared, but you were barely aware of it, your eyes locked on him, silently urging him on.

He moved like lightning, his form perfect, his strides long and powerful. You could see the intensity in his every movement, the sheer will driving him forward. As he rounded the final bend, you knew—he was going to do it. He was going to break the world record.

The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Yuuji crossed the finish line, the clock stopping at a time that stunned everyone. A world record. Yuuji had just shattered it.

But even before the cheers had fully erupted, Yuuji’s eyes were scanning the stands, searching for you. The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the cameras, the officials, and the chaos around him, he sprinted toward you, leaping over the barrier with ease.

And then he was there, in front of you, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a passion that took your breath away. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mixture of disbelief and pure joy. He laughed, a sound filled with triumph and love, and then he threw his arms up in the air, shouting, “I did it! I did it! I’ve got you and a medal! This is the best day of my life, oh my god!"

The crowd around you erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could focus on was Yuuji—his infectious energy, the way his hands were still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe you were real. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, tears of joy filling your eyes.

“You did it, Yuuji!” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. “Babe, you broke the world record. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned, pulling you close again, this time resting his forehead against yours. “None of this would’ve meant anything without you here. You’re the one I wanted to share this with. You’re my everything, pretty.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it clear just how much this moment—and you—meant to him. 

“I love you, Yuuji.” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands.

“I love you too.” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And this… this is just the beginning. We’ve got so much more to look forward to—together.”

As you stood there, holding each other amidst the chaos and celebration of the Olympic Stadium, you knew that you had found something far greater than any medal or record.

You had found the person who would stand by your side, through every challenge and triumph, the one who had captured your heart with his unwavering love and dedication. And as Yuuji lifted you off the ground, spinning you around with pure, uncontainable joy, you realized that you had truly won in every way that mattered.

[littlewriters-posts]

Hey darling! Can I request the Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader? So maybe where the reader is the reincarnation or rebirth of Damon's old love, and Damon meets the reader's reincarnation like Elena in season 3, episode 22?

I love this idea so much!!

I spent hours writing this last night only for it not to save, so here is another attempt.

Plot: Damon thought his first love was dead and buried, so imagine his surprise when someone turns up in Beacon Hills wearing her exact face

1864

Katherine Peirce loved her boys - more importantly she loved how she had them wrapped around her little finger. Which meant of course, she could get whatever she wanted.

The three of them were sat outside in the gardens, enjoying the sunshine in the summer weather. Kathrine, Damon and Stefan all laughing amongst themselves like old friends.

"Your friend is coming today is she not?" Stefan asked.

Kathrine nodded, looking towards the road as if expecting a carriage to pull up at any minute.

"We're grateful you could offer us both shelter," she replied simply.

"Well if she's anything like you, how could we refuse?" Damon asked, a grin forming on his face.

Kathrine smiled up at him "She's exactly like me,"

This was a lie. Although Kathrine would never admit it, she often mimicked her friend's personality to get people to like her. Y/N was softer than Kathrine was, her heart not frozen from the years of pain they had both endured.

"What did you say her name was again?" Stefan asked.

"Y/N," Kathrine responded, "And it looks like she's here,"

A black carriage was pulling up, and a footman appeared to open the door. Kathrine was quick to race towards her friend, whilst the brothers hung back to watch the scene play out.

They watched as Y/N stepped out of the carriage, adorned in a soft green dress. She embraced her friend, a wide smile on her face as she chatted excitedly. Katherine drew her to where the Salvatore brothers stood, and Y/N shrunk slightly, stepping behind Katherine ever so slightly.

"Salvatore's, this is Y/N L/N, you'll forgive her if she's a little shy," Katherine smiled down at her friend.

Damon was the first to respond, taking her hand and pulling it up to his lips. "Damon Salvatore," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her hand.

Y/N curtseyed in response "A pleasure to meet you Mr Salvatore,"

Stefan was next, offering her a small bow "Stefan Salvatore, we hope you enjoy your stay here,"

Y/N smiled, looking between the two bothers "Thank you for having me, Kathrine tells me you have been most generous hosts,"

Kathrine clicked her tongue "Forgive me Salvatore's, but I believe I will be showing her around her new home,"

The brothers gave a small wave towards the girl in green, who gave a shy smile in response.

"What do you think?" Stefan asked his brother. Damon eyed the retreating figures of the two girls with curiosity.

"Well Kathrine says she's like her, but I don't think I've ever met someone so different,"

Neither Stefan nor Damon saw much of Y/N from that moment on, she would never be teasing them the way Katherine did, nor would she seek them out. They'd catch glimpses of her reading, or writing beneath one of the trees in the garden occasionally, but neither of them even thought of saying something.

They were too captivated by Katherine.

But then came the day of the Founder's ball. Damon was in a foul mood, since Katherine had decided to attend the ball with Stefan, and found himself wandering he halls of his own home, unable to escape the nagging feeling in his chest.

So he went to where he always went too when his thoughts became too much; the library.

It was a large place, with books lining the walls like leaves on the trees. But it was cosy also, with three large chairs huddled round the grand fireplace.

To his surprise however, there was already somebody there.

"Miss Y/N," he remarked, a surprised frown on his face "I thought you'd be at the party,"

It was true, as she was adorned in a beautiful purple dress, that looked to be one of Katherine's. Her hair was done in an elegant updo, but still she sat on the chair, a heavy book in her lap.

She blinked up at him, her fingers fiddling with the pages.

"I've never been one for crowds, that was always more of Katherine's thing," she said softly.

Katherine. The name felt bitter on Damon's tongue. He wondered though, if Y/N was like Katherine in other ways, in ways that had to be kept a secret from the rest of the family.

"Mind if I join you?" Damon asked, and Y/N shook her head.

"Not at all,"

There was a brief silence between them as Damon stared at the girl. She paid him little attention, her eyes darting across the pages of the book as if feasting off the words it gave her.

"You like to read," he observed, and Y/N jumped, forgetting he was there.

"I like to write," she corrected "But reading is the next best thing if I have nothing to write in,"

There was another silence, and Damon debated saying something else, but she didn't seem like the type to want to talk much, and he felt he should be careful where he tread. But to his surprise it was her who started the next conversation.

"What brings you out of the party?" Y/N asked, closing her book and setting it to the side.

Damon sighed, he couldn't tell her the real reason, for Katherine was her friend and he was not. But similarly he couldn't think of a lie, something about her made him feel guilty for even thinking about lying to her.

Y/N grimaced slightly, taking pity on the fallen expression of the man. "I see she chose your heart to break," she said softly.

"What?" Damon asked, taken by surprise.

Y/N sighed "You think you're the first two men that Katherine has set against each other? I love her dearly, but she does like her games,"

Damon shrugged "The price I pay for falling for the act in the first place,"

"If I may," Y/N said cautiously "If you want to win her affection's you needn't show it to her so much. Katherine likes to chase,"

Damon's eyes flickered slightly 2What are you suggesting?" he asked.

"Take someone else to the next founders ball," Y/N suggested, picking up another book from the table. "You're a handsome man Mr Salvatore I'm sure you'll have little trouble finding somebody who takes an interest,"

Damon sat back a little, before glancing at the time. The founders ball still had a couple of hours before it was over.

"Why wait?" he asked, a mischievous smile on his face. "I could get a date right now,"

"That's the spirit," Y/N said, not looking up from her book.

"So Y/N, would you do me the honour of attending the founders ball with me?"

Y/N's mouth dropped open as she looked up at Damon, who was now standing with his arm outstretched towards ger.

"I - I can't!" she said with wide eyes "I'm terrible with crowds, and I don't know anybody, and god forbid they try and talk with me-"

Damon cocked his head slightly as she spoke, sensing the panic in her voice.

"I'll stay with you, and if anyone speaks to us, I will be the one to answer, if that is what you wish. So what do you say - one dance?"

Y/N hesitated, before slowing accepting his hand and letting him pull her up. "Don't make me regret this Mr Salvatore," she warned.

He laughed, guiding her hand to he crook of his arm. "Please call me Damon,"

Y/N sighed, trying desperately to swallow the nerves about walking into a room full of people she didn't know.

In the hall, Katherine and Stefan were dancing gracefully, successfully ignoring the stares of the room.

"I do hope your brother isn't too offended by my choice of Salvatore," Katherine mused, earning a chuckle from Stefan.

"I do believe he'll get over it - or he already has,"

"What?" asked Katherine, but Stefan just nodded towards the other side of the room, where Damon had just entered, Y/N on his arm.

Katherine's eyes narrowed as Damon shot a smirk her way, before leaning down to whisper in Y/N's ear.

"Just follow my lead, you'll be fine,"

Y/N tried not to shiver as his breath hit her ear, and allowed herself to be led across the dancefloor.

"I never thought you'd be the dancing type," she admitted, looking up into his blue eyes.

"And why is that?" Damon asked a slight smirk playing on his face.

"I don't know," Y/N bit her lip slightly to stop herself from smiling "You seemed much too arrogant to bore yourself with something as frivolous as a party,"

Damon's eyebrows raised as he realised her teasing tone "I never thought you'd be so cheeky, I thought that was something that belonged to Katherine,"

Y/N shook her head slightly, a laugh falling from her lips "Katherine was always so serious, even when we were children. I suppose you Salvatore's have shown her a thing or two,"

Children, they knew each other when they were children, so Y/N must at least know what Katherine was, if she wasn't one herself.

"She's staring at us," Damon commented, realising that Katherine had stopped dancing with his brother, and was shooting curious looks to the other pair.

"Told you," Y/N shrugged, her voice lowering to a whisper "Nobody Knows Katherine like I do - perhaps now would be a good time to talk to her?"

Damon hesitated, he knew that part of him wanted to but the other part -

"We're having far too much fun dancing, don't you think?"

And it was true, Damon did enjoy Y/N's company. With her shyness beginning to ease, he enjoyed the small jests she'd make at him, and thoughts of Katherine began fading away.

The pair danced, and chatted until the early hours of the morning when the founders ball finally came to an end, and the last of the guests were leaving.

Y/N let out a yawn, and Damon caught her as she stumbled slightly.

"I think it's time I retire," she said sleepily "It's been a pleasure dancing with you Mr Salv - Damon,"

Damon brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss on the back of it. "The pleasure was all mine, goodnight Y/N,"

He watched as she left, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Careful, she'll fall in love with you," came a sly voice to the right of him. He didn't need to look to know it was Katherine. "her heart is far too soft to survive a Salvatore brother,"

"You were wrong before, she is nothing like you," Damon commented "Enjoy my brother,"

And with that he walked off, feeling triumphant that he had been able resist the urge to fall right back into Katherine's arms, but he couldn't shake the Y/N from his mind either.

The next morning, Damon found himself outside the door of Y/N's bedroom, his hand ready to knock when she opened to door herself.

She jumped slightly "Oh - Damon?" she asked her eyes wide.

His lips parted in shock slightly, the encounter catching him off guard and all the rehearsed words in his head disappearing.

"Are you alright, you look like you've seen a ghost?" she asked, frowning slightly.

Damon cleared his throat, presenting a small brown parcel with his other hand.

"A thankyou gift, for coming with me to the dance last night," he said.

Y/N blinked slightly, gingerly taking the package from his hands, and carefully untying the string.

"You didn't have to -" she began, before trailing off as she revealed the leather bound notebook he had bought for her.

"You mentioned you loved writing, I figured this would help you out a bit," he said slightly nervously "Do you like it?"

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. "Thankyou so much Damon, this - it means the world," she said sincerely, clutching the book to her chest as if it may run away.

Damon's worried expression broke into a grin. Another difference between Y/N and Katherine, Y/N was sincere, was genuine.

He didn't even see Katherine glaring at the two from behind the pillar.

Katherine watched with resentment over the next couple of weeks, watching as Damon started pining after Y/N instead of her. Of course, anyone else she would have gotten rid of immediately, but Y/N was her friend, and she didn't have many of those.

Even Stefan noticed her change in behaviour towards the other girl, but decided it was not in his best interest to question it.

But Damon was oblivious, too wrapped up in wanting the attention of the shy girl he had met, yet seemingly unable to show his affections towards her.

Y/N carried on with her life, desperately trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach whenever the older brother entered the room, concealing her blushing cheeks with her hair whenever he spoke. Nobody noticed, besides Katherine, as the girl often hid herself behind her hair when people spoke to her, but not quite in the same way.

"I see you fell in love with him too," Katherine commented, walking in unannounced to her friends bedroom.

Y/N sighed nervously, she knew that Katherine got whatever she wanted, and mostly she allowed it which is why the pair were such good friends.

Katherine stepped closer. "What do you think he'll think of you when you tell him what you are?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Y/N shook her head "I don't need to tell him," she said hoarsely, "I'm not like you Katherine,"

Katherine chuckled "You may not be a vampire, but you can't go around pretending to be human,"

Y/N glared at her friend through the reflection of the mirror, but didn't say anything to protest and Katherine smiled.

"I'm just saving you the pain of losing him," she said, before turning on her heal and waltzing out the door, no doubt to find the Salvatore brother herself.

Y/N sighed, her had laying on the book that Damon had gotten her, piled on top of all the other books she had written in over the years. Even if she didn't like it, Katherine was correct. Though her curse wasn't quite as visible as the older girl's, it was a curse nevertheless, and all curses had consequences.

"What did she mean?"

Y/N froze, the sound of the man's voice like ice in her heart. She spun round and came face to face with Damon, who was standing in front of the door he had just closed.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching her stricken and panicked face. Another way she was different to Katherine, she wore her heard and emotions on her sleeve, there was no having to interpret or guess with her, she was an open book whether she liked it or not.

"You don't have to be scared, I didn't tell Katherine's secret and I won't tell yours," he reassured her, stepping closer to take her hand.

"I'm not a vampire," Y/N said defiantly.

Damon shook his head "You don't have to lie to me," he promised, his blue eyes searching her nervous ones.

"I'm not!" she stressed, before breaking away from Damon's grasp and sitting on the bed "It's more complicated than that,"

Damon sank to his knees before her, looking up at her with wide and trusting eyes "Then let me help you,"

"I'm cursed," Y/N said quietly after a beat. "They call it the Phoenix curse. Every time I die, I get reborn from my ashes as my old body burns, forgetting everything from my previous life."

Damon frowned "But if you forget everything, how do you know you've died before?"

Y/N smiled slightly, raising her hand to brush the hair from his eyes. "I didn't at first. But I am always reborn at the age of sixteen, and people tend to notice when you're almost an adult and have no memories to show it. Katherine found me, and she had this made for me,"

Y/N drew out a necklace that was tucked away in her bodice. It was golden, and dainty, with a red gemstone in the middle of it.

"It allows me to keep the memories even after I have been reborn,"

Damon let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Well that's certainly a raw deal on your behalf, at least Vampires get the added speed and strength,"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head slightly as she stood up.

"The books in your father's library say that I have wings, and that I can fly, but that remains a mystery to me, and I am immune to compulsion" she said with a smile.

Damon hesitated, a question on the tip of his tongue but unsure whether or not to ask it.

"Well it seems to me, that as long as I don't let anyone kill you, there doesn't seem to be much of a curse," he commented with a quick smile.

Y/N raised her eyebrows "Surely it is Katherine you would want to be around, speaking of which, how are you and her?" she asked

Damon shrugged "I found someone else that seemed far more appealing,"

Y/N turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat slightly as she realised just how close they actually were.

"Who?" she asked, unable to hide her blushing cheeks with her hair this time.

"You,"

Y/N's eyes widened, her brows drawing up slightly as she looked at him. Her lips parted as if wanting to say something, but no words came out, her heart pounding against her chest, the tightness of her corset making it difficult to breathe.

"Damon - Katherine," was all she could let out, but he shook his head.

"I don't want her, not since I met you. I no longer want to be chasing after a game, but I would chase after you for the rest of my life if that is what it took. I would tell a hundred jokes just to hear you laugh, and run a thousand miles to catch up to you,"

Y/N let him grab her hands in his own, but tugged away slightly "Damon you don't understand, Katherine wants you. And Katherine always gets what she wants,"

But Damon didn't relent "But I don't want Katherine, I want you," he said, the desperation leaking into his voice "But if you truly do not want me, then that is fine, but I need to hear you say it. I need to hear your say you do not want me if I am to go,"

Y/N shook her head, her gaze downwards "I can not lie to you Damon," she said quietly "I can not say I do not want you, when you are all I want,"

Damon breathed a sigh of relief, a slight laugh falling from his lips as he embraced her in a tight hug, pulling away only to cup her face in his hands, his blue eyes memorising every detail of it as if would disappear if he looked away.

"Meet me outside, near the village. You go out of the left gate at the gardens then follow the road until you meet the village square, I'll meet you there - I've got a surprise for you," he said, the smile never leaving his face.

"I will try, but I'm terrible with directions," Y/N teased "You may have to find me if I get lost."

Damon kissed her cheek, tucking her stray hair behind her ear "I will always find you," he promised.

Behind the door, Katherine watched the two lovers, a dark expression on her face. As much as she adored her, Y/N would have to go.

So as Damon waited at the village square, and the minutes ticked by, it occurred to him only too late that something terrible had happened to his new love.

That Y/N had disappeared without a trace.

2009

Y/N sighed with a heavy heart, as she lugged her suitcase behind her. She was grateful to have a suitcase, many of the children she was with in the foster home before had their stuff in plastic bin bags as they moved from house to house.

But Y/N had been adopted.

She found it odd that somebody wanted to adopt her, especially since she was three weeks away from turning eighteen, but it meant she no longer had to fend for herself once she aged out of the system, so she had to be grateful.

Rudy Hopkins

Y/N hadn't even met him, yet here he was willing to adopt the strange girl without a second thought.

That's if Y/N could find the damn house.

Mystic falls was a mystery to her, especially since she had never been there before - or so she thought.

"Y/N?" came a voice.

She spun round, and came face to face with a man she could only describe as beautiful. His eyes were wide, and blue, looking at her with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Er, I'm sorry do I know you?" she asked with a frown, stepping backwards nervously as the man stepped closer to her.

He froze, his eyes glinting downwards to her neck, where not one bit of jewellery rested.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew - Damon Salvatore," he introduced himself, but his blue eyes were still piercing her own, scanning her as if she were an odd puzzle piece he couldn't quite place.

"Y/N L/N," she responded, a slight frown evident on her face "Are you alright, you look like you've seen a ghost,"

Damon hesitated, her words echoing in his head, the same words she had spoken to him all those years before, yet she truly had no recollection of him.

He nodded "Sorry for bothering you," he said quickly, turning to walk away.

"Wait!" she called out, grabbing her suitcase "You don't know where Rudy Hopkins lives do you? He's my adoptive parent, but he didn't show up to the meeting point, he just text that I'll meet him at home,"

Damon's eyes widened, Rudy Hopkins was the father of Bonnie Bennet, there was no way this was a coincidence.

"Follow the road back down until you - " he paused, looking at her confused and slightly panicked expression, and he felt his heart tug slightly as he remembered her all those years ago wearing exactly the same face as she was now.

"I'll take you," he reassured "Something tells me that you're not very good with directions,"

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief "You aren't going to turn out to be some serial killer are you?"

Damon snorted "Bit late to ask that isn't it? But no, I can promise I am not a serial killer,"

Y/N smiled up at him as he walked next to her, and he found himself having to concentrate on not looking at her. She was exactly the same as she was all those years before, but with no memory of him whatsoever.

He was almost sorry as he left her on her doorstep, wanting to spend every moment with her, to see if it really was her, or just some cruel trick the world was trying to play on him.

She turned to thank him, but he was was already gone.

Damon had darted back to the Salvatore household, his head and heart both reeling from the encounter.

He burst into the living room, where both Stefan and Elena was sat cozied up in-front of the fire,

"Stefan," he said urgently, causing the two others to look up sharply. Stefan frowned at his brothers expression, Damon had many emotions, anger, hatred you name them, but never vulnrable.

Not until now.

"Stefan she's here - Y/N's here,"

Part two here:

[howling-goldendemon]

How I'm starting to believe in Greek gods

I just wanted to share my story, including some doubts because I'm not sure about some things. I have never been a really religious person, as growing up in a very religious family, i think even having some connection to Christianity when it comes to a town near where I live.

Anyways, as I was saying, I have never been that much about beliefs, always wondering about what else could be out there waiting for me.

After all, my family said that the most important part of being human is worshipping a greater deity, specially god; I decided to try to take that in mind while searching for a religion where I could feel kind of comfortable.

Despite the taboo that it is, i started with Satanism, my reason behind it being "I'm not comfortable in what surrounds me, maybe if I try the opposite...?".

I moved on to try atheism, it didn't feel right, something was missing.

Then I tried believing in Greek gods, this being the reason because of a famous musical based on The Odyssey.

I don't know why, but this one really felt like it called me, something in Greek gods drew my attention and respect.

I tried then making my first prayer, being it to Poseidon, I still don't know if I did it right or if I chose the wrong god to start, but my ask was for clear skies on the weekend in exchange of being able to make it rain as hard as he wanted on my 18th birthday, the reason for the ask was that there was going to be a camp; in the end, the camp was moved to next week, but it did rain in my birthday and the weekend was clear skies.

I am a little ashamed of this but I ended up asking again 2 times, this time to Zeus too, as the camp was moved to another date 3 times, this time i tried my best to not be disrespectful and I promised I'd try to make something in return.

The day of the camp, I made a quick prayer to Gaea, asking for a safe travel and general safety during said camp.

As soon as I got back to school, I got cherry incense, I am still new to this and today I lit up one of the incenses.

I was going to try Aztec gods, but I ended up feeling more comfortable in Greek mythology.

I am willing to make a tiny altar for Gaea, Poseidon and Zeus, As I feel like I still need to make a proper offering to all of them, I would've thought it was coincidence and I know it's not 100% true or reliable, but the weather forecast for those weekends I asked were written with a high probability of heavy rain.

It may have been coincidence, but I like to think it was a way to receive me with open arms in this religion.

Now for the questions:

Do I need to make separate altars for each god? I don't have much space, and I don't know what my family would thing of it if I made an altar they could see, I could fit one in my closet or a tiny table in my room.

What would I do with offerings? specifically food, I cannot leave it to rot, that feels kind of wrong, but eating or throwing it out feels too disrespectful, what is the common practice when it comes to food offerings?

Am I praying correctly? I tend to pray in this way: Treat the gods like I would treat a Teacher I respect a lot, with a lot of respect and trying to not ask for too much.

Is there a guide on what to pray to which god? I just wanna show respect by believing in every Greek god, regardless of if I ask for something or not, I wanna keep doing this.

Thank you so much for reading until the end.

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Facility Manager

Alastor x female!maid reader

Summary: Alastor uses his title of the hotel's facility manager as an advantage to be with the new pretty maid. You.

Warnings: Al is VERY flirty, actually.. I Mena (how can you not when you're wearing a hit maids dress am I right?)

A/N- hope y'all enjoy :)

You were hired as the new maid for the Hazbin Hotel. You were quite excited because you believed in the cause and you loved to clean and organize. It was your first day on the job, and the Princess had a simple task for you: dusting. You were dusting something from below, so you had to bend down slightly. That's when you heard a voice that sounded staticky.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!” The voice struck you out of your thinking space. To your surprise, you turned your attention to the voice—it was a rather tall and slightly handsome deer man who was right at your face. You didn't know how to respond before he did.

“Pleasure to meet you, Dear, just a pleasure! I’m Alastor, the radio demon! You must be the new maid, hmm?” You stood up from your somewhat bent position and brushed off your maid's dress that was black but had red accents. "Yes, yes, I am," you replied, taking a small step back to give the two of you some space. The deer man only smiled.

He hovered over you, then he bent down at the waist as his finger rested under your chin. "You're quite adorable," he complimented you. You weren't sure if your blush had shown, but all in all, Princess Charlie regretted to tell you that the Radio Demon was one at the hotel and two the Facility Manager in the first place, so your interaction between the two of you was just you being shocked.

"Um, thank you?" you replied, and the smile that he seemed to be wearing this whole interaction only got bigger. Then he said, "You'll be working for me, I'll be keeping a close eye on you." Confused, you told him, "Well, the princess said I'll be working for everyone, technically."

"In a way, yes," Alastor hissed as he drew a finger down your exposed chest due to the uniform that was given to you. You definitely blushed, and he most definitely noticed. Angel Dust, the fellow pink spider, had told you about his nickname for the demon: tall, dark, and creepy. And in this scenario, you would agree, but you had a feeling that he was flirting with you. Was he?

"I... um should get back to work..." you said, picking up your duster. But he didn't seem to get the hint. "Oh, don't be so silly! You can take a small break..." Before you could respond, he leaned in close again to your face, and you only just looked up at him as a response. "Take a break." Your heart started to pound in your chest all of a sudden due to the close proximity.

Most certainly didn't help when he ever so slightly moved closer to where you could feel his breath on your lips. "Mr. Alastor, I—" you began, but certainly was shut down. He covered your mouth with his claw with another wide grin.

"Oh, but it's only just getting fun." What did he mean by that?

"I need to get back to work," you pushed once more, but of course, the man LOVED to invade everyone's personal space, so he pushed back. He knew he was making you flustered, so he only kept it going by placing his other hand on your shoulder.

"I said, you're taking a short break," Alastor said with hooded eyes almost and a closed-lipped smile. You had to get away from the conversation and wanted to veer away from it. "Could you show me to where I'll be staying?" you asked. His eyes got wider with a head tilt, the Radio Demon said, "Of course," he purred while placing a claw on your lower back and leading you towards a door, his eyes closed and head up before the two of you stopped in front of the door.

Alastor holds the door open for you to your room. You walked in. "Now, my room is right next to yours, so it won't be an issue if you ever need me, dear."

"Great... thanks," you said. Of course, he put your room right next to yours; the two of you share walls, just what you had ever wanted. Placing your bag on the bed, feeling Alastor press against your back, "You're welcome," he whispered with a smirk. You paused.

"Now, I'll be keeping a close eye on you, so be sure to behave," you gulped, and Alastor took a step back as you just looked at him. He laughed and patted your head. "So serious."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight. my dear" Alastor placed a hand on your hip and whispered again. Your heart pounded in your chest. Alastor then shut the door softly, leaving you just standing there, rethinking what just happened. Then you decided to finish getting settled in and then going to bed. An hour or two later, there was a soft knock on your door. Groaning, you got up and were in your PJs, opening the door. He stood there, looking down at you. "...Can I come inside for a moment?"

"I um, suppose." He nodded and walked into your room as he looked at the progress you made of settling in before looking back at you.

"Now, you must be tired, no?"

"I am."

"Alright then... let me make you... 'a bit more comfortable. "He steps closer, and what did he mean by that? Your heart sank. Truly. "Actually, I'm okay..." You didn't care if he heard the terror in your voice; there was no way that you were going to get down to the supposed Facility Manager on your first day.

"Oh? You're turning down my kindness?" He said as he took a small step forward. "I'm comfortable but thank you."

"Hm... are you sure?" His neck cranked to the side, and he was now dangerously getting close to you. Only inches now stood between you two. Your back had hit the bed, and you were laying on top of the covers.

"You... sure you're comfortable?" He was still staring down at you.

"Yes, thank you." You said, and he leaned down again, a few millimeters away from your lips, he had that small closed-lipped smile again. He reached for the blanket to put over you.

"Goodnight, again." A sinister grin spread across his face. "...Sleep well, my darling."

You went to sleep and was ready for your second day of being the Hazbin Hotels maid.

HERE'S THE PICTURE OF THE DRESS I DESIGNED :D

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐈𝐭❜𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐂𝐮𝐭!

Summary ➳ When you and the rest decide to sneak up on an Orc camp, you receive an injury. You believe you can handle it yourself but Legolas thinks otherwise.

(A/n) ➳ I AM SO SORRY! Tumblr ended up deleting the request but I remember it but not all of it so forgive me if this isn’t what you wanted. If it isn’t then don’t hesitate to shoot a message or request again!! I also learned that apparently the Fellowship traveled at night and slept during the day. I seriously did not know that until today.

Word Count ➳ 1.5k

Content Warnings ➳ Gender Neutral Reader, description of violence, blood, death, stitching, blood loss, angst-to-fluff…

“There must be some other way.” Legolas uttered to Boromir. “You cannot believe that sending (Y/n) out to assassinate the Orcs is the best solution.”

“She won’t be alone, Aragorn will be there with them.” Boromir replied. “The two of them will attack from above while we attack from below.” He drew his sword, walking closer to the Orc that was alone. He was swift with it, moving behind the Orc and slitting its throat. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

You took a deep breath as you aimed your bow, you kept your focus on the leader. You could see from the corner of your eye Aragon sneaking up on the other two. You knew he was waiting on your signal and he would wait however long, but you were all on a strict time.

Another deep breath and- “Hey!” You shouted out of instinct, Legolas’s arrow went through the Orc’s head, killing him but you brought attention to yourself.

You jumped down from the tree and quickly nocked, drew, aimed, and released at one Orc that was reaching for its weapon. You swerved past another arrow, more flying past your head until you took cover over a giant rock.

Before you could nock another arrow, an Orc came from behind, grabbing your arms to throw you against the ground. You rolled when he attempted to stab you, dodging more swings until you managed to kick his sword away.

He charged at you, taking your knife that was strapped to your leg, and used it against you. You used your bow to block a couple of slashes until he fell to the ground. Instead of standing, he got onto his knees and managed to stab you in your thigh.

You let out a scream but in return, you shot an arrow through his head. Your breathing staggered as your hand wrapped around the knife and slowly pulled it out and then covered it with terrible bandaging.

“(Y/n)!” Legolas popped up a few seconds later. “I heard you scream.”

“I believed I twisted my ankle.” You covered your wound with your as best as you could, smiling through the pain.

“Let me help you.” Legolas took your hand, helping you walk to the rest of the group. Luckily, your cloak covered your bleeding wound and your dark pants were enough to hide the blood seeping out. “We just have a couple more hours before daylight.”

Like Legolas said, Aragorn finally decided that it was time to rest. “We will set out when it becomes dark.” He told you all before he started to set up his makeshift bed.

Legolas looked over your ankle, looking closely and pressing against it, looking back at you for a reaction. “It doesn’t seem to be twisted, but it may be strained. You have been jumping a lot, and might have happened when your footing was incorrect.”

You could practically feel the sweat running down your forehead. “Does it seem bad?”

Legolas smiled, his usual smile that was beaming with kindness. “No, the pain should fade later. Are you in pain or hurt anywhere else?”

“No, no, thank you.” After Legolas joined Aragorn, chatting. It wasn’t long before it was just murmurs among the Fellowship. Sam and Frodo were cooking together, Gimli was most likely perched up against a tree sleeping, but you didn’t know about the rest.

You were farther into the forest, a needle and thread in your hand. You placed a thick piece of fabric in between your teeth and bit down, you used your other hand to keep the gash close together so you could stitch it.

You let out a strained cry as you attempted to stitch your wound yourself but it was difficult due to your vision blurring. You didn’t know how long you were out here, so focused on closing your wound that you didn’t hear branches breaking or leaves crunching.

“You’re hurt.” Legolas’s voice broke you out of your concentration. You could see the panic in his eyes, he kneeled by your side, taking the needle from you and moving your hand from your thigh. “And you’re doing it incorrectly. You’re hurting yourself more.”

He used his other hand to pull a container of water, and flushed out your wound. “How did you get this? And when?”

“Just a couple hours ago.”

“And you’ve been bleeding this entire time?” Legolas’s voice was filled to the brim with regret, like he was ashamed of himself. He carefully threaded the thread into your skin, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose.

You took out the cloth from your mouth. “Look Legolas, I’m still alive and well.” You tried to ease him. “I’ll be alright, I’m okay.”

“I should’ve known, you have been moving slower, as well as your reaction time.” He acknowledged. Once he finished stitching your wound, he poured water again to wash out the rest of the dried blood.

He helped you to your feet, throwing your arm over his shoulder and an arm around your waist. He moved at a slow pace back to camp, everyone was now asleep, save it for Aragorn who just watched you both silently.

He helped you lay down. “I’ll be fine.” You repeated yourself, it felt like the hundredth time.

Legolas shook his head. “Please, do not hide anything. You shouldn’t be silent about these kinds of things.”

As if waking up very early in the morning couldn’t be any better, Orcs have seemed to find you all. You had a feeling that they were stalking you all, waiting for the moment to attack. You used your bow instead of your sword, making sure none of the Orcs came close to the Hobbits.

An Orc charged at you. You dodged the first couple of swings but not the kick to the leg, making you kneel and it felt like the stitches broke.

You screamed as you used your arrow to stab it into the Orc’s shoulder. Legolas’s arrow came from behind and slew the bastard and Merry came to your side to help you stand.

“Run into the forest!” Boromir shouted, blocking the sword coming down at him. “Go! Quickly!”

Merry helped you speed through the forest. You suddenly felt sick, like you wanted to pass out. But it wasn’t long before the Orcs gave up the chase and Merry sat you against a tree.

“They’re bleeding!” Merry alerted the rest of the Fellowship.

Legolas dropped in front of you, pushing your hands away from the wound. “I need a needle and thread.” He said, more like demanded. “Or a cloth to stop the bleeding.”

Aragorn ripped a piece of his shirt and handed it to Legolas, he snatched it and was quick to tie it around your wound. “I’ll need some herbs, in case the wound becomes infected.” Sam shuffled through his bag. “Luckily you should be able to walk but not run.”

You swore under your breath. “It seems the Orcs are watching us at all times.” You looked up at Aragorn. “What do we do?” You asked him.

“There may be another camp nearby.” Aragorn replied. “Boromir, Legolas, we need to search.”

“Someone should stay and protect the Hobbits.”

“Gimli is here and (Y/n) still has the strength to use their bow.”

“But what if they need to retreat? What will happen then?” Legolas still pressed, wanting to remain by your side. “We cannot put the Hobbits at risk, especially the ringbearer.”

“Gimli will be here, just go with them.” You told him.

“I will not.”

Aragorn was too annoyed to even put up an argument anymore. “Let us go then.”

When they were out of sight, you pushed his shoulder slightly. “What was that?” You asked him, confused out of your mind.

“Someone must be here to protect the Hobbits-”

“I know that, it would’ve been fine. They are taking care of the camp, the Orcs won’t be nearby to bother us.” You once again tried to explain to him. “What is going on with you? Are you still feeling guilty?”

“No-”

“Doesn’t seem like that.” Your breathing hitched as you attempted to stand.

Legolas grabbed your warm to stop you. “You cannot be moving at the moment. Give yourself time to relax.”

“It’s just a small cut!”

“A cut that could’ve killed you.”

You huffed. “What is going on with you Legolas?”

“Becoming reckless is one thing but hiding a serious injury that could have killed you is another. It makes me worry, it makes me question if you have more injuries you’ve hidden.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the wound. I didn’t think that it would mean so much for you.” You admitted.

“I worry, I worry every single day, every fight, during the night and during the daybreak. Will the morrow be the day where someone or something takes you from me?” His hand grazed over your wound. “I just want to know I’ve done everything and anything.”

“I’m sorry.” You apologized again.

“Just promise me, I do not care how small it is or how big, please do not hesitate to ask for help.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

[saphronethaleph]

Applied Maya

“Your overconfidence is your weakness,” Luke said, calmly.

“Your faith in your friends is yours,” the Emperor replied.

Vader shook his head. “It is pointless to resist, my son.”

“It is pointless to control the galaxy,” Luke retorted. “I’ve learned things about the Force that mean I understand that now."

He waved his hand, and Vader tensed, but it turned out to be for emphasis instead of telekinesis. “The Force is everywhere. In everything. There’s… a level of reality which is far beyond what we care about. It’s around us, everywhere. Even in us.”

“What are you talking about?” the Emperor asked, thrown off his argument about how everything was futile.

“The Force,” Luke explained. “And… us. And everything, because the Force is everything. And we’re the Force. We’re… luminous beings, and our bodies are only crude matter that outlines them and gives our spirits somewhere to be.”

“What are you on about?” the Emperor demanded. “Vader! What is he on about? Is this some kind of Jedi nonsense?”

“It is possible,” Vader mused. “But I do not recall hearing it before.”

“I can explain more, if you’d like,” Luke said, earnestly. “The way that it works is that there’s more than one layer of existence, and this is a layer of reality but compared to the Force it’s just an illusion. Which means that – yes, you should do everything you can to make things better in this world, but – no, this world isn’t all there is, and you aren’t your body. Your body is just an approximation.”

He looked at his hand. “I lost this on Cloud City and… it didn’t make me any less of me. I’m still me, because I’m not my body, I’m the one who lives inside it. And the Force is like proof of that.”

That drew a blank look from the Emperor, and what would probably have been a blank look from Vader.

“Elaborate,” Vader requested.

“Well, we all know that the laws of physics exist, right?” Luke asked. “They define exactly how things work. How things fall, or they don’t. How orbits work. And yet, I can stretch out my hand and pull something into it. Which means the laws of physics aren’t laws, they’re just very persistent illusions.”

“I believe the interaction is mediated by midichlorians,” Vader said. “They are like mitochondria for the Force.”

“So?” Luke replied. “That simply means that part of how we are outside physical reality can be measured. I’ve heard the explanations, I’ve seen it – all that the explanation really does is put it into words, and give it a framework.”

He made another expansive gesture.

“This is trite nonsense,” Palpatine said. “Your friends on the Sanctuary Moon will not survive.”

“And if that happened, I would be sad,” Luke said. “Of course I would. But I came here willing to die, because death is not all that there is.”

Palpatine glowered at Vader.

“This one is broken,” he said. “Do you have another possible new apprentice for me?”

“The supply is a bit low, my Master,” Vader said.

“And I know about your rebel fleet,” the Emperor went on. “They will be ambushed by my fleet, just as an entire legion of my best troops is waiting for your friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Luke said. “But it’s not the same as something being unrecoverably bad.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he said. “You make no sense.”

“You can think of it like a shadow,” Luke said. “Or a hologram. It looks real, but it’s not the most real thing. It’s illusion, just a very persistent illusion which is why so many are taken in by it.”

“This doesn’t sound very empirically sourced,” Vader muttered. “Did you come up with all this yourself? If not, who taught you?”

“Yoda,” Luke replied, and both the Emperor and Vader flinched slightly.

“Yoda’s alive?” Vader asked, sounding horrified and fascinated.

“Not since… about three days ago, I think?” Luke answered. “I could be off by a day or two on that, I spent a lot of it in hyperspace.”

The Emperor tried very hard to stifle a sigh of relief, and didn’t quite manage it.

“You know Yoda?” Vader said. “You met Yoda?”

“Yes,” Luke agreed. “I was there with him at the end. Obi-Wan told me where he was living.”

“What?” Vader asked, now sounding baffled. “...how?”

It was his turn to wave his hand to make a gesture. “Because I remember Cloud City, and you were reasonably talented, but you seemed self taught. You did not fight like you’d had two and a half years of Ataru lectures from the death gremlin… there weren’t nearly enough backflips for it.”

“...oh, I see,” Luke said. “No, Obi-Wan told me on Hoth.”

“On… Hoth,” Vader repeated, slowly. “He’d been dead for several years at that point. Hadn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke confirmed, readily. “He’s a ghost. He’s still around.”

The younger Skywalker shrugged. “Kind of proves what I was saying, right? Death isn’t the end of existence. A person lives on after the death of their body. They become one with the Force, and the Force is one with them, but they still exist.”

Vader was silent for a long time.

“...huh,” he said, eventually.

“Anyway, as I was saying – Father – Your Highness,” Luke went on. “I don’t fear death because death is the loss of the crude flesh, which is just a cloak for our true selves, who are luminous beings of light. To ask others to accept suffering of the flesh is unfair, because they feel it as real, but I understand it for the illusion that it is and so I’m willing to suffer and die for my beliefs – in a very real sense, it doesn’t mean as much to me as it would to anyone else. Because I know the truth.”

“This is all the ramblings of a senile madman, translated through the mouth of a naive boy,” the Emperor said. “What kind of proof could you possibly have?”

“...what, apart from the fact that I communicated with my dead mentor, and he gave me information that I did not know before?” Luke asked, curious. “That was sufficient for me to accept it when Yoda told me, but there’s also the extent to which understanding the illusive nature of reality amplifies my understanding of what the Force truly is.”

“I have to admit, it would explain why Obi-Wan vanished,” Vader mused, sounding like he was talking to himself more than the others.

“You don’t know about the Force,” the Emperor said, snidely. “Certainly your understanding is not as deep as mine!”

Luke examined him.

“You actually believe that,” he said. “But you think what I’m saying is nonsense?”

“If you understood the Force better, you would not be my prisoner!” the Emperor retorted.

“I’m not,” Luke said. “That’s an illusion as well.”

“You cannot just declare anything you don’t like to be an illusion!” Palpatine raged.

“I can if it is,” Luke replied, still calmly, and reached out his hand. His lightsaber slapped into it, then he let go and it floated back across the room to where Palpatine had put it.

He shrugged. “I’m here because I want to save my father. I surrendered because I thought that would be the best way to do it. I’m standing here on a battle station I fully expect to be blown up, because I am committed to saving my father. From you. That’s why I’m here, and it has nothing to do with you having any power over me. You don’t.”

The Emperor attempted to prove Luke wrong by electrocuting him, which lasted about ten seconds until Vader threw him out the window.

The air, on the other artificial hand, stayed put.

“You might be right, son,” Vader said, sounding scientifically fascinated as the room didn’t depressurise. “Accepting this really is helping me understand and use the Force.”

“I’m glad to have helped,” Luke replied, reminding himself that electrical burns were also illusions no matter how persistent they were. “What do we do now?”

“Leave the room, probably,” Vader suggested. “Then we can see about deciding whether we want to keep this station or destroy it.”

He made a curious noise with his respirator. “Are the Empire’s succession laws real or an illusion? I am fairly sure I could abdicate in your favour if you would like.”

“Mon Mothma would be better, I think,” Luke said, after some consideration. “Or Lando. Lando might work.”

[wszczebrzyszynie]

In your older art (when he was a rabbit breeder named Nikita I think) Mikita seems much more… smiley than he is now. The first time I saw him (I think 2022) I remember him being gay + aro instead of aroace. I adore this character and I would love to know how he changed/developed over the years!

Oh gladly. I adore this topic. Mikita is my oldest one (8 years old now!) and i have quite a lot to say and show about him, so ill put it under the read more. For some reason the picture formatting is completly broken when i do it. Thank you for the kind words

Mikita went through quite a lot name changes now that i think about it, at least compared to my other ocs; it went hand in hand with his ethnicity mostly, as he was i believe polish first, then polish/lithuanian and only since... 2020? belarusian (which i agree is definitely... a pipeline, but theres no deeper meaning behind it; for the 70% of his life the world he lived in was 100% fictional, and at the beginning even fantasy-like). His first actual name (not "rabbit breeder", which was the title used for him in the original story instead of a name. Names were a modern au thing) if im not mistaken was Fryderyk, then Nikita, and then Mikita. That name change did probably happen around 2022 because a Belarusian belarusianized his name for me and I liked it so i changed it. Very nice of them it makes much more sense in the current story

Years 2016-2020-ish he was gay (but not aromantic) and also dating Mikołaj; frankly i do not remember when exactly that changed, but he and Mikołaj are some of my oldest still in use ocs and they were always a package deal of sorts. Last time i drew shipart of them was in 2021. I think it might have stopped around the time i realized i am aromantic? It was a very important moment to me and the second it clicked i realized most of my ocs were secretly aromantic all along too. It was pretty funny now that i think about it

Personality wise he was a bit insufferable. Well he used to age with me (like most of my ocs) so he was very much a 15 year old. Very bratty and unempathetic to others, actively manipulative and overly ambitious. He used to smile a lot yes it was very in character then and i think it makes him look more annoying so it stays. Well either way i made so much art of him in that time i actually canonized it as his younger self in canon, now that hes older. I think thats a fun choice and i still like his old design, so its good to reuse it. Art from 2020, 2021 and 2023. I think current Mika would hate his old self a lot

Frankly when it comes to my ocs the big shift from that more dystopian completly fictional setting to more historically grounded one happened at some point and i dont remember when that was. 2020-2021 ish possibly. Its hard to remember because it did not happen from day to day; i think i abandoned these ocs original story for months before i made that choice? and even then i dont remember how current DNS or such a clear idea for it came to be, especially considering that it changed basically every single character drastically. Its weird to me but i suppose that knowledge is lost. That being said i think it does coincide with the creation of Przemek, who quickly became one of my favourites, so maybe theres that. I dont know. Well either way its a very good thing that it happened

[golden1u5t]

mistakes | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff

ꨄ summary: you and spencer break up because he chose to believe someone else over you.

you phone had rang a million times, eventually you turned it off because you were tired of seeing the same name pop up each time: spencer. you couldn't imagine why he'd kept calling you over and over if he was the one who broke up with you because he thought you had cheated on him.

when everything had happened, you tried to explain to him that you didn't cheat and you were at home the entire day and the picture he saw was a picture from years ago. you don't know who sent the picture to him but it was a picture someone you used to know took of you at a party kissing some guy, it was old and way before spencer.

you hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days, only to shower and brush your teeth. your friends, really only one because the rest of your friends were spencer's friends and they absolutely hated you at the moment, came over to make sure you were okay.

a knock on your door pulled you away from your bed, you figured it was just your friend but when you opened the door it most definitely wasn't. spencer stood at the door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he was drenched

from the rain pouring.

you were upset with him and hurt but you weren't about to let him stand out there and get sick. "what is wrong with you? get in here before you get sick!"

"why are you here?" you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced over his entire frame. spencer held the flowers out for you to grab, you hesitatingly took them from him and brought them up to your nose.

you knew why he was here, to apologize and try to get you back. quiet frankly, you would problaby go back to him just because he'd only broken up with you a few days ago and because spencer is honestly the best man you've ever met and been with.

"you were at home, like you said. i should've believed you, i'm sorry. just- can we talk about this- us?" he pushed his hair out of his face. you stared at him for a few minutes before nodding your head.

what's the worst that could happen?

"i'm sure you still have some clothes here and because i'm not a horrible person, you can go shower and stay here until the storm passes." you mumbled and moved past him.

when spencer got out of the shower, he found you sitting in the living room scrolling through your phone. you looked up when you felt the couch dip beside you. you shifted on the couch until your body was sideways on it, you drew your legs up to your chest and stared expectingly at him.

"better get to talking before you're walking home in the rain."

spencer had to suppress the smile threatening to show, he liked that you were still just as snappy as before. he cleared his throat and started to tap his hand against his pants.

"i'm so unbelievably sorry. I should have believed you when you told me that the picture was old, I shouldn't have believed an unknown number before you." he looked down to his hands before looking back up, you hummed in agreement and continued to stare at him.

"i'm sorry that I ruined everything we had, it was a huge mistake and i realize that now. i've hardly slept since everything happened. you were the only person that stayed with me despite my job being the way it is."

"because i love you, that's why I dealt with it. when you came to me with those accusations, i wish you could've felt what I felt. ive never felt a heartbreak like that before." you wrapped your arms around your legs. it was silent for a few minutes, just you and him staring at each other, thought's racing in your minds.

"would you ever consi-"

"yes," you didn't even let him get the question out because you already knew what he would say. yes, you would consider getting back together with him and really there would be no thinking about it. "in a heart beat. i would get back with you because I love you and- and even though you hurt me, i still understand why you did it."

spencer opened his mouth to say something but you held up your hand because you weren't done. "i know that i'm your first real relationship and your vulnerable when it comes to me, you'll believe anything that's believable. you've seen what's happened with other's relationships because of your job so it's only reasonable that deep down you would be scared that i would cheat or find someone better, if that's even possible."

"you should become a profiler with your ability to read people." he couldn't help but crack a small joke but he knew that you were right, everything you said was true and there was no denying it. you let your legs down and nudged his thigh.

"i was thinking about it, really. i mean, id get to be with you every second of the day. didn't you say your boss was looking to fill a spot?" you reasoning was absolutely horrible but it made spencer laugh, a sound you'd missed hearing.

you moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. the second your skin touched his, he pulled you into him and held you so tight you almost couldn't breath.

"god, i missed you so much. i'll never to that again." he breathed, you nodded the best you could.

“you better not, i won't forgive you as easily if you do."

[companionjones]

Mornings With Connor

Pairing: Connor rk800 x Reader

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Warnings: Some references to smut

Slowly, the world woke you up. You opened your eyes to the sun streaming through the curtains, and Connor gazing at you.

"Good morning...love."

You could tell that him using the word 'love' was a very thought-out decision. You smiled at the effort. "Morning, baby." You leaned forward, kissed his nose, and watched his cheek turn a light shade of blue. You got out of bed to start gathering your clothes that were strewn about the night before.

Connor sat up in bed. "Do you...have to go so soon?"

"Unfortunately, I do," you informed, "Today's a two-show day at the theater...I'll be out all day. Sorry." You spared him a guilty look.

He sat up a little more. "No, it's okay. You're doing something you love, right?"

Your eyebrows quirked up, and you crawled onto the bed, toward Connor. "I'd rather be doing someone I love." You drew your boyfriend in for a kiss.

When you parted from him, Connor chased your lips for a moment before backing down. He looked uncomfortable. "Uhm...Y/n?"

It was rare for Connor to hesitate like that, so he had your full attention.

He went on, "I've noticed that you've spent every night here the past two weeks, and I was wondering..."

"Yes, Connor?" you encouraged when he trailed off.

He was quiet for a moment more. It was like he was having a heavy debate inside his head. "Would you like to move in with me?" he finally asked. His words were quick, like he was forcing them out.

The question caused you to gasp. You were taken aback. Your mind went blank.

"Please, don't be frightened by the question," Connor urged when you didn't say anything right away. "I would hate to do anything to hurt our relationship, but I've done research on couples, and it is around this point that most move in together."

"Yeah, it is. Isn't it?" A smile started to appear on your face.

He went on, "Plus, I can't exactly say that I'm opposed to the concept when actually, I'm all for it."

You were grinning ear-to-ear. "I am, too."

Tension released from Connor's shoulders. "You are?"

"Of course I am, sweetheart!"

Connor laughed like he couldn't believe you had said yes. "This is amazing news, Y/n!" He tackled you with a kiss on the bed. He was then laying on top of you.

"I know, sweetheart." You giggled when you broke the kiss. You stroked his cheek. "I love you so much."

Connor leaned down to give you another quick kiss. He pressed his forehead against yours when he parted. "I love you too, baby." That time, the petname seemed far less premeditated.

For a moment, you relished in the closeness with Connor. Then, you opened your mouth. "I really don't want to end this moment, but I really gotta go."

"Right." Connor's eyes went wide, and he got off of you. "Well, have a good day at work...sweetheart." There was that conscious effort again.

You loved it. You loved him. You gave him a quick kiss goodbye. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too," Connor replied as you headed for the door.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you can. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3