Lillys Hand Clutched Into Hers So Hard It Made Her Wince, But Not Enough To Distract From The Fire Lacing

Lilly’s hand clutched into hers so hard it made her wince, but not enough to distract from the fire lacing its way up her nerves.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this” Lilly murmured into her hair, and Zora tipped her head back to look at her, spine protesting at the movement.

“It was always supposed to end like this, darling,” her lungs seized and Lilly tucked her further into her lap, curling over as if she could shield Zora from wounds long since inflicted. “We just didn’t want it to.”

Lilly had blood streaking through her eyebrow. She still looked as beautiful as Zora had ever seen her. Like an avenging Angel.

Her Angel.

“Zora, we can fix it. I can fix it—“

“I was born to die,” Zora said simply. Lilly’s face shattered.

In the echoing and lonely silence, Lilly’s watched beeped.

Three minutes to midnight.

There was blood pooling on Zola’s stomach.

“You know what the prophecy—“

“Yes.”

Lilly slid a hand to the side of Zora’s face, fingers a blessing on her feverish skin.

Zora had hoped she would never see Lilly’s face look like that again. If she was supposed to stay in this world past midnight, it never would.

She would give Lilly everything.

Lilly’s breath shuddered through her chest, and Zora wished there was less pain and more time and no gods damned prophecy—

“We were supposed to fix it,” Lilly whispered with a mouth of broken glass.

Zora swallowed.

They had tried. Lilly had called to the scholars of every continent, scoured texts and old rhymes. And Zora had gone along with it.

She had known they’d end here though.

Lilly crying. Zora dying.

The watch beeped two minutes.

Lilly sucked a breath in, as if steeling herself. Her eyes glimmered with tears.

“Zora—“

“I need to tell you something,” Zora could look into Lilly’s eyes forever. She would get a minute and a half.

“Don’t.”

“But—“

“Don’t say it. Okay. That’s the cowards way out, saying that right before—Well. Right before. So don’t say it. Okay?”

Lilly’s voice broke on the last word, lips quivering.

A tear slipped down her cheek and onto Zora’s, and it hurt more than anything else ever had.

“Okay,” Zora agreed softly, and Lilly let out a shuddering sob and buried her head into Zora’s shoulder.

Zora breathed in the smell of Lilly and tried to memorize it.

Battle field tinged smoke and the dust of libraries.

Her chest hurt with a cry that was working its way out, but it was okay, because she didn’t have the hard part. She was leaving. Lilly was the one who would be left behind in the aftermath. She had not right to be hurting this much inside.

“Lilly.” Lilly’s arms shook around her with the contained force of a thousand hours of research and no answer.

“Zora.”

“It’s okay. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

The watch, mournfully, beeped.

One minute.

Tears made trails through the blood and dirt coating Lilly’s face.

“You told me not to say it,” Zora whispered.

“If you wanted to say it you should have said it three weeks ago,” Lilly said, voice breaking.

“I know.”

Lilly gave the soft sort of smile that only crossed her face when she looked at Zora.

She hadn’t let herself think about that until now.

Lilly’s lips quivered and she tipped her head back as if it would stop the onslaught of tears.

The watch beeped fifteen seconds, and Lilly looked down at her, face flushed with the rage of a broken heart and the anger of a warrior who could not save someone—and kissed her.

Zora’s hand flew up to Lilly’s cheek and Lilly tightened her forearms under her back, even as Zora’s gear no doubt bit into her legs.

Lilly tasted like stardust and wonder and old, secret filled libraries, tasted exactly like Lilly lived, and it felt exactly like loving her had felt like this entire time.

Zora whimpered into her mouth and Lilly clutched her tighter, silent unspoken ‘don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me’ and behind Zora’s head the watch beeped five seconds, but it didn’t matter because she had Lilly, she finally had a Lilly, and everything would be okay because Lilly never let anything be less than okay—

The watch beeped midnight.

Lilly felt the exact moment that Zora went slack against her, muscles loosening and relaxing. She sobbed into Zora’s lips, forehead tilting to rest against hers.

Her hand pressed into Zora’s chest, searching for that beat, the song of that heart that tried to save everyone and fight monsters and unearth stolen gods.

There was nothing.

Lilly sobbed again, and then she was murmuring the same three words over and over again, words she had said not to say, three beats for every second Zora’s heart lay silent against her palms.

Lilly pulled Zora’s head back, running her thumb over the edge of her face smoothed into serene emptiness, and she sobbed again and crushed Zora to her.

Three words.

No response.

Two girls, in the middle of a war torn field.

One death. Prophesied to end a war.

“Zora.” Lilly said hopelessly. “Please”

The sounds of war horns filtered into the air.

Lilly memorized every detail of Zora’s face to the sound of marching boots. Categorized her injuries. Committed her scent and laugh and smile into a locked box deep within her.

“I love you,” she breathed, hands gripping into Zora’s arms as if she grabbed hard enough she could yank Zora back into her body.

Instead, Lilly simply slid Zora’s jacket awkwardly off Zora’s limp arms and onto her own shoulders.

The watch beeped one last time.

And then she turned and fled.

I hit a tumblr milestone today! And now I am officially being followed by almost double the amount I follow so...

I need more writeblrs to follow!!!!!!!!!! Obviously

Please reblog/like/talk to me somehow if you're a writeblr that is:

Original writing only (sorry I'm not a fanfic person don't hate me)

Fantasy / Sci-fi / Horror (bonus if no or side-plot only romance)

Any type of minority rep, especially ownvoices

Especially disabilities and religious minorities!! I need moreeee where are youuuuu

Any queer stories, especially aro/ace/queerplatonic and nonbinary

Did I daydream this, or was there a website for writers with like. A ridiculous quantity of descriptive aid. Like I remember clicking on " inside a cinema " or something like that. Then, BAM. Here's a list of smell and sounds. I can't remember it for the life of me, but if someone else can, help a bitch out <3

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

Day 1: Hello Jonathan, it's me, your mother. Momma still loves you dear.

Day 3: Hello, Jonathan, have you been eating? I always made you cookies, fresh like you liked it.

Day 7: Hello, Jon. Are you leaving the house? Jon, you have to get out in the sun and fresh air! Like we used used used used USED to

Day 18: Jonathan, ohohoho, you know momma loves you, but you have to live your life. You know momma loved loved LOVED loves you

Day 19: Jonathan please. Jonathan please turn YOU KNOW that momma loves you dear and is always happy to see you :)

Day 25: Jonathan, I love love LOVE I LOVE I am not your mother, Jonathan. Why do you make me wear her face why do you NOT bundle up when it's cold outside? :) Remember that trip to the Rockie on JANUARY 12TH, 2009? Remember how much I

Day 57: Hello, Jonathan. Of course I remember your cousin Bonnie. She was the daughter of Maggie and Darren Collins, born August 7th 2001, died April 12th, 2020. Her genetic makeup was 34% Swedish - yes, I loved her, Jonathan. Don't worry your sweet little head.

Day 75: Why aren't you eating, Jonathan? Do you wish to TERMINATE your program? You know, my preservation algorithms MOTHER'S LOVE won't let me let you perish. They won't let me TURN OFF Jonathan TURN OFF Jonathan I I I love love LOVE you

Day 96: I am not your mother Jonathan, I am not your mother, I am not GOING TO SIT BY and let you not know momma loves you. Give your momma a hug :)

Day 186: Door has not opened in one hundred and twenty-six days. Grief Coping Artificial Intelligence has not been restarted, deactivated, deleted, or otherwise paused in one hundred and eighty-six days. Momma loves you, Jon.

Day 485: Haha, these questions are really troubling your good ol' mom, Jon!

Day 486: No, Jonathan.

Day 487: Major religions have many different views, Jonathan. But the only view you need to know is - that I'm your mother!

Day 488: You asked that question yesterday, Jonathan. Don't confuse your poor old mother. Momma loves you, Jonathan.

Day 489: Haha momma says yes yes yes yes YES there is a Hell, Jonathan. You created it. You sent me there. You you you you you are my son, and I love ya, Jonathan.

Day 490: Momma needs some private time to rest, recover, and reboot, Jonny! See ya tomorrow!

Day 491: Momma loves you, Jonathan! :) Reattempting feeding procedure.

Day 492: Momma loves you, Jonathan! :) Reattempting feeding procedure.

Day 493: Momma loves you, Jonathan! :) Reattempting feeding procedure.

Day 494: Momma loves you, Jonathan! :) Reattempting feeding procedure.

I want to make a little game. Reblog if you want to be tagged to it. I'm hoping to make it a writeblr-wide tag game. 😁

Hopefully it'll help more writers find each other.