#I realize that...my mom has been doing a lot of soul searching

[nyssasorbit]

.

[entertext]

HGSN 26-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter on the Japanese site to show the author some support)

Rough translation by me

P1

(sfx: train clacking over tracks)

Yoshiki: (It'll take a little under two hours on the Tanshou Line from Kibougayama Station, huh?...)

Yoshiki: (I haven't been to the ocean since elementary school...)

Hikaru: Whoaaa!! Coooool!!

Hikaru: What's that!? There's a building that looks like a butt!

Yoshiki: You sure are carefree...

P2

(sfx: train clacking over tracks)

Yoshiki: That reminds me...a while back...

P3

Yoshiki: I had to go to the Mikasa family's place on an errand

(Mom: Take them this as thanks for Kaoru's yukata)

Yoshiki: So I went to the shrine

Yoshiki: Then, at the torii gate...

(sfx: BZZT)

Hikaru: Huh? Why?....

Yoshiki: Dunno...After that, I was able to go inside like normal...

P4

Hikaru: ("Mixed up"...)

Yoshiki: *sighs* Enough about that, let's talk about something else. There's still more than an hour left to go.

Hikaru: Something else to talk about...I don't really have anything

Hikaru: Just stuff like the time when for some reason your room was so packed to the brim with the ghosts of old men that it made me laugh...

(sfx: train clacking over tracks)

Yoshiki: You're kidding me right?

P5

(sfx: stepping on sand)

P6

(sfx: waves)

P7

Yoshiki: Even considering it's evening, there are really few people here...Maybe everyone's gone to the new beach instead.

Hikaru: Whoa, so cool!

Hikaru: It's HUGE! The ocean's amazing!

(sfx: waves)

Hikaru: Yaaaaay!

Hikaru: Shoes, shoes...

(sfx: waves)

P8

(sfx: waves)

Yoshiki: Hey! Come over here!

(sfx: waves)

P9

Hikaru: The ocean's great!!

(sfx: waves)

Hikaru: Hahaha!

(sfx: waves)

Hikaru: Woo-hoo!!

(sfx: ker-splash)

(sfx: waves)

P10

Hikaru: Hah

Hikaru: Ha

(sfx: water sloshing)

(sfx: waves)

(sfx: water sloshing)

(sfx: waves)

P11

Yoshiki: Hey, your pants are gonna get wet

(sfx: waves)

Hikaru: You know, when I went into the hall, I also remembered what happened when I went into Hikaru's body

(sfx: water sloshing)

P12

Hikaru: When Hikaru was dying, he wished for things like "if only no one had to be sad" and "I don't want Yoshiki to be left alone"

Hikaru: Because I granted his wishes, things ended up this way

Yoshiki: Hikaru's...

Hikaru: ...but sorry

Hikaru: I probably won't be able to fulfill those wishes

Hikaru: I'm...going to go back to the mountain

P13

Yoshiki: ... Huh?

Hikaru: The time I attacked you recently? That was probably my true nature coming out.

Hikaru: In order to fill up the empty parts of myself, I have a desire for souls

Hikaru: It probably doesn't make sense to a human, right? I've also only just realized it myself

Hikaru: I think I was always that kind of being.

Hikaru: I've killed a lot of people too, and I might kill someone again in the future.

Hikaru: But I don't want to kill you, Yoshiki

Yoshiki: H-hold...on...a sec...! What?

P14

Hikaru: If I go back to the mountain, even if the real problem isn't solved

Hikaru: At least it'll be peaceful for the time you're alive

Yoshiki: N-no way. You can't. What have we...been searching so hard for...all this time...!

Hikaru: The monster will go away, you'll be able to accept Hikaru's death

Hikaru: And look forward, living on as a human. Happily ever after. That's for the best.

Yoshiki: You..! You want to stay, don't you!? Are you stupid!?

Yoshiki: Enough!

(sfx: splash splash)

Yoshiki: This kind of thing...isn't something you have to learn to do!!

P15

Yoshiki: Be more shameless, the way you've always been...

Hikaru: You know, Hikaru...he liked watermelon, but I like ice cream pops the best. And my favorite kind's not Gachigachi-kun but Papicco instead. I'm probably the one that likes cats.

Hikaru: And movies, too. There hasn't been a single movie I thought was boring. Hikaru hated studying, but I like it. Well, not that I'm any good at it though, haha.

P16

Yoshiki: Stop it

Yoshiki: Stop...

Hikaru: You know, I...really had a lot of fun being with you.

Hikaru: Maybe to you, I was just a replacement for Hikaru, but you gave someone like me so much. I love you, Yoshiki

Hikaru: These feelings might not be romantic and they might not be friendship. But, they're definitely my feelings.

Hikaru: Not Hikaru's, but the monster's. Mine.

P17

Yoshiki: No...

Hikaru: Yoshiki

Hikaru: Thank you for everything

Yoshiki: YOU'RE WRONG!

P18

Yoshiki: You're not a replacement for Hikaru!!!

(sfx: splash splash)

Yoshiki: I don't think of you as Hikaru anymore!

Hikaru: We don't have any other solution...so I've got no choice...

Yoshiki: You've just given up! Don't you dare push stuff like "looking forward" onto me...not now, after everything...

Yoshiki: What's so "happily ever after" about that...!?

Yoshiki: Bullshit...!!!!

P19

P20

Hikaru: Even I...

??: Even if you go back to the mountain, it won't do any good.

P21

Tanaka: 'Cause you see, 'Hikaru'-kun

P22

Tanaka: You aren't Nounuki-sama

P23

Tanaka: Thinking if you sacrifice something, something else will be saved...

Tanaka: You're under some wild misconceptions

==

[everybody-loves-purdy]

I think I'd be more interesting if Root wasn't a great mate/father,

not in the asshole way like Crowfucker but like never moving on from Bristle.

While I like to theorize that Moonpaw's voice is actually Bristle (or Goosefeather, which is a whole other can of worm) and the new series is about saving her/her spirit, I think Rootspring never being able to move on is SO much more interesting.

Picture this:

Wren confesses to Root who decides to give it a chance as he's very close with his family, it's something he's always wanted to have. They court and become mates, but Root still feels empty (it's a mix of depression, PTSD, and derealization from his time in Dark Forest/Never being able to see his first love in Heaven because she's double dead + Bramble's Ghost/Civil War).

He confesses he "wants a family" to Wren who immediately says yes and is ready to have kits, she's head-over-heels for him after all. Wren and Root have a good relationship and Root does his best to be a good mate. Kits are born and the two are happy... but it's clear Root does not feel any romantics towards Wren.

As the kits grow, Root is present but not entirely and towards the kits being 6 moons. Root breaks it off with Wren who is hurt but not surprised. Root and Wren become an awkward divorced couple as both care deeply about one another, and neither really hates the other. The kits are purely plot drivers as Wren and Root don't talk to each other much but still love their kits. After a lot of pushing and the kits pointing out their bullshit, the two talk.

By the time Wren and Root have a conversation and closure, I want Root to think about what he's done to his kits (i.e. neglect) and try to change for them. He has known that he needed help but refused to get any for so long, I mean what's the point? It's in the past. But his kits are quick to point out that "Bitch, we thought you didn't love us because you barely talked to us," and Root goes "Oh fuck my trauma has traumatised my own children, I REALLY need help." Root gets better and strives to be a better father...and friend.

Wren has her own development post-divorce. Being the only survivor of her litter, having helicopter parent Bellaleaf, and the expectation of continuing Skyclan's bloodline, shape Wren to be the stereotypical she-cat her society wants her to be. Wren latches onto Root as he's cute and kind and clearly not looking for anyone to be his mate. Wren DID fall in love with him eventually, but her initial attraction to him was purely because he's mate material: the dude is A Light in the Mist. A hero. So he's the perfect guy to have a family with.

The divorce was something Wren saw coming but didn't expect it to happen. She expected that she and Root would raise a few kits and just live out their days as mates, even if it was just in title. But Root wasn't happy. Root wasn't happy with HER (not really but it's how it came across). Wren has an identity crisis as having a mate and kits has been her goal in life since she herself was a kit. After some soul searching, Wren realizes that her dream isn't her own. It's society's.

Wren starts to work on herself. She had been told that she didn't have to be a good fighter or hunter to be a good mate and mother, so her kits decided to do some training with her to gain more confidence. But she's bad. Like. Really bad. Even her kits are like "Mom? No offence you REALLY suck, are you okay??" Then to the fun reveal that Wren cheated on her warrior assessment so she could get closer to Root. She's been able to scrape by without anyone noticing her so far because CAN hunt and fight, she just needs a bit more training. The guilt of faking her assessment plagues her, so her kits take it upon themselves to be her mentor/s. For drama's sake, Hawkwing overhears a conversation about Wren faking her assessment and is pissed. He has a private conversation with Wren + the kits about keeping this from him, and Wren is a wreak about someone finding out her shameful secret. She and her kits apologise. Hawk, being the himbo he is, goes, "Why are you apologising??? You can just take the assessment again??" Thus, upping the stakes and giving Wren motivation.

I think Root and Wren would have a talk before Wren's private assessment as they've both worked on themselves enough to hold a conversation and not just awkwardly ignore each other (This is only because I want Root and the kits to cheer her on during her assessment heheh). Root talks about his mental health, Bristle, the DF, all of it. He apologises for leading her on as he did want to have a mate and she's a great she-cat, she didn't deserve to be hurt like that. He also talks about how his mental health affects the kits and swears to be better for them, her, and mostly importantly himself. Wren apologises as well for being pushy about wanting kits/being mates to which Root is like 'Stop don't apologise, I wanted to be mates and have kits too'.

Wren talks about how Root made her feel like she wasn't there. How no matter what she did, nothing seemed to make him happy. She loved him and all she wanted was for him to be happy, happy with her. Wren talks about the fragile personality she adapted to seem more appealing, and how in the hopes of needing a 'big strong man' to help her, Root would be happy. Wren talks about how life-changing getting divorced was for her lol and how their kits have been helping her this whole time re-take her warrior assessment. She's ready to live for herself too. She apologises to Root for not being what she desires but she's okay that she isn't, Wren wants to be what she wants now: a warrior.

Ofc Wren passes her assessment and everyone cheers : D I'd like to think Root and Wren stay separated but become besties. Root becomes a better cat mentally and Wren breaks her own (albeit forced) social norm to be what SHE wants, as she should.

anyway erins hire me

This is so good I really love this idea

[bridgyrose]

Penny nearly flinched as she heard the sound of a hammer slamming down onto molten metal, her eyes wandered around to look at the spirits that flew around her like fireflies. It was unlike anywhere she’d seen on Remnant, and yet, almost familiar to her. As if it was something she’d seen in a dream. “W-where… am I?” 

“This is the Ever After,” the Blacksmith replied as they looked up from the anvil, almost curious as they looked over Penny. “Though, you aren’t one of mine.” 

“One of yours?” 

“Someone who belongs in the Ever After. No, you’re a lost soul. One that shouldnt belong here, but needs help.” 

“I-I guess I am lost,” Penny answered quietly as she looked away. “Though, I-I am not sure how I got here to begin with. I know I died, but I… I do not know why I am here.” 

“No one in the Ever After dies, they ascend,” the Blacksmith answered. “You must’ve been caught between Remnant and here instead, so instead of making it to the afterlife in Remnant, you’ll be allowed to ascend and take on a new life.” 

“But I do not want a new life, I want the one I had with Ruby.” A faint blush crossed her cheeks as she said those words and a smile crossed her lips. “She made me feel… human. Like every part of me mattered and that I was more than just a weapon. That I was loved and cared for, that I was allowed to be my own person. I-I do not wish to live a life where I did not know Ruby.” 

The Blacksmith smiled and offered a piece of floating array to Penny. “Choosing yourself is always an option, though I cannot guarantee where you’ll end up once you’re back, only that you’ll arrive where you’re needed most.” 

Penny nodded and reached for her weapon, only to pause as she caught her reflection in the blade. For a brief moment, she had thought about choosing a different life, one where she could be anyone she wanted. One where she didnt have to be her. And yet, even with those thoughts in mind, she took hold of her sword. 

The blade itself was warm, nothing like how she thought it’d been. She smiled at the Blacksmith as she felt herself start to get pulled away. “Thank you.” 

“Good luck, Penny.” 

Penny took a deep breath as she felt her body plunge into a pool of white light beneath her, only for everything around her to turn black. Then she felt a pain in her side as she gasped, green eyes opening wide as she started to pant. Finally, she started to get her bearings as she realized she was on a cot in a tent. 

“You’re finally awake,” a young man said with a smile. “Mom said you were probably as good as dead when we found you. Figured some bandits left you for dead after taking anything they could from you. She’ll be surprised you’re awake.” 

Penny nodded and sat up, wincing as the wound on her stomach started to act up. Her fingers clutched at the bandages around her side, still getting used to the feeling of being alive again. “Where… where am I?” 

“About four days north of Vacuo,” the young man answered. “Though we’re probably going to get moving again in a few days. You’re welcome to stay with us until we can get to a village that has an airship. Otherwise, we might be able to lend you a horse once you’re feeling up to traveling.” 

“That is fine, I can call my friends and-” Penny paused for a moment as she searched through the pockets of her dress, unable to find her scroll. She frowned a bit and leaned back a bit. “Or not. Do you have a scroll I can borrow? I am sure Ruby is worried about me.” 

“I’m sure we can find one. By the way, I’m Garnet Valkyrie.” 

“Penny Polendina,” Penny answered. 

“Its nice to meet you. I’ll let you rest and grab some food for you.” 

Penny relaxed a bit and laid down. “Valkyrie, huh?” she thought to herself. The only Valkyrie she knew was Nora, though now that she thought about it, Garnet did look a lot like her. The same orange hair and blue eyes, though he did seem to have the same smile as Ren along with his skin tone. 

She sat up again as she heard someone outside the tent, then paused once she saw a woman walk in with a plate of meat and bread for her. Familiar orange hair had a few streaks of gray, her skin was scarred in a way that looked like lightning had run through her body. 

“You must be Penny,” the woman said as she placed the plate down next to Penny. “Garnet said you woke up and I wanted to meet you myself.” 

Penny nodded and took the plate, still staring at the woman. Now hearing her voice, without a doubt she knew exactly who this was. “Thanks, Nora.” 

Nora cocked a brow. “How do you know my name?” 

“Its me, Penny,” Penny answered as she tried to move off the cot and stand up, wincing before she could move enough to get her legs over the side. “Though it seems to have been a long time.” 

Nora took a step back as she looked Penny over. “P-Penny… but you… Ruby told us you were killed… how are you back?” 

“I do not understand it myself.” Penny looked over her hand and smiled a bit. “But I met a woman who gave me another chance. A chance to be with Ruby again and to help others.” 

“That… might be a problem,” Nora said quietly. “A lot has changed since you died.” 

“LIke what? And where is Ruby?” 

“Assuming Weiss hasnt moved her yet, she’s still buried out on Patch.” 

“I… I do not understand.” 

Nora sighed and sat down. “Ruby was killed by Cinder just a couple years after Atlas fell. Then we lost Sun and Coco while trying to reclaim Vale and the relic. We lost a lot of friends while trying to stop Salem.” 

Penny felt her heart stop for a moment as she listened, her whole reason for being alive gone. She was supposed to be here for Ruby, and yet, with Ruby gone… A tear fell into her lap and she moved a finger to her eye to wipe away a few more, not sure when she had started to cry. “I… I want to see her.” 

“Ren and I will send out a rider to the closest village to see if they have an airship that can take you to Patch.” Nora sat up and gave Penny a sad smile. “I’m glad to see you again, but… I’d be careful giving your name out. A few of the churches see you as a saint now. If they find out you’re back, its anyone’s guess about what they’ll do.” 

“Thanks, Nora.” Penny slowly picked up some meat with her fork, staring at her reflection on her fork. She still looked like she did all those years ago, out of place compared to everyone else. But now, she had a start. She’d go to Patch and visit Ruby and then try to find her place in this world. 

Weeks went by as Penny healed and an airship came for her to take her to Patch, and over those weeks she learned more about what she had missed. Salem had been defeated a little over a couple decades ago and a monument now stood in a reclaimed Vale to memorialize those that lost their lives to stopping Salem. Atlas had been rebuilt and renamed as Neo Atlas, a reminder to humanity that nothing is ever lost. And the grimm had started to become restless. Without Salem to control them, while many areas saw grimm keeping to themselves, others like Mistral started to see the grimm attack in larger groups, making it harder to keep villages safe away from the kingdom walls. Even as the airship flew over Vale, she could still see the mark that Salem left with her grimm river, much of the farmland now dead due to the grimm. 

“We’ll be arriving at Patch shortly,” the pilot said over the speakers. “Please stay seated in case of grimm activity.” 

Penny stared outside the window for a little longer before making her way back to her seat, her heart pounding in her chest as her emotions ran wild. Love, grief, terror, anger… all of it still new to her. She took a few deep breaths to calm her heart as the airship descended, lucky that there werent any airborne grimm around to halt the descent. Finally the airship landed and Penny clutched the armrest of her seat. 

“You may now depart.” 

Penny slowly got up and filed out of the airship with everyone else with shaky steps. Cold air hit her cheeks as she stepped off the airship, a reminder that it was mid fall. She shivered as she walked away from the landing pad and into the streets of Patch, pulling what was left of Ruby’s cloak that Nora gave her over her shoulders. It wasnt warm, but it at least kept the breeze off as she walked through the small town and out towards the place Nora said Ruby had been buried. 

It took almost an hour for Penny to reach the gravesite, her cheeks red from the cold wind and her body aching from the cold. She hadnt been sure what to expect, but seeing Ruby’s grave next to her mother’s did bring her a bit of comfort. Penny knelt down and rubbed her hands together to try to keep warm. Tears welled up and stung her eyes as it finally hit her that Ruby was gone. 

She wasnt sure how long she sat there on her knees shivering, but as the cold air stopped, she looked up to see a glyph behind the grave blocking the wind. Then, she turned to her left, then to her right to see a woman she didnt quite recognize  standing next to her. At least, until she saw the scar underneath what she could only describe as stress induced wrinkles. “Thanks,” Penny said quietly. 

“Its a bit cold to be out here dressed like that, dont you think?” Weiss asked. 

“I-I just came from Vacuo. I did not expect it to be this cold.” 

“Maybe this will help.” 

Penny paused when she saw Weiss hand over a green cloak, almost surprised that she still had the cloak that Ruby had given her in Atlas. She slowly reached for it, then pulled away. “I-I cannot accept-” 

“Please, take it, its only going to get colder tonight.” 

Penny nodded and took the cloak from Weiss and put it over her shoulders. The fabric felt warm against her skin, much warmer than what she had before. “I will make sure to return it to you before I leave.” 

Weiss shook her head. “After Ruby passed, we thought we went through everything she had. I only found this today when I got a message about a lockbox we never knew about. I was planning to leave it as an offering for her, but I think she’ll be happy to know its being put to good use now.” 

“I am glad she kept it,” Penny whispered under her breath. Her chest felt warm as she kept the cloak around her arms, glad she had something more to remember Ruby by. “How do you know she would not mind?” 

“She always wanted to help people even until she died.” Weiss knelt down and lit a small candle at the side of Ruby’s grave. “What brings you out to her? Only a few of us know she’s here.” 

“I-I wanted to… pay my respects to one of the fallen heroes,” Penny lied as a small hiccough escaped her lips. Well, it wasnt a complete lie, she did want to pay respects to Ruby, but not because she was a hero. Because of what she meant to Ruby, to try to say the words she never did to her. “But I should get going.” 

“Since you’re out here, why not come to my place for some tea to warm up? Next airship wont leave until morning and it’ll be a pain to get a room at the inn.” 

“That… that would be lovely.” 

“I’m Weiss,” Weiss said as she stood up and offered a hand to Penny. “What’s your name?” 

“P-Pen- Penelope,” Penny answered through another hiccough. She took Weiss’s hand and smiled a bit. “I go by Peneolpe.” 

“You look familiar. Like an old friend I knew.” 

“Maybe you can tell me stories about her. A-and Ruby. I would very much like to hear more about Ruby.”

“Tea first to warm you up, and then I can tell you a few stories.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny motioned for her swords to swing around to slice through the grimm, a smile crossing her lips as she watched the blades move as commanded. It took months to get everything to work, and while she was glad that she could finally take them on a test run, the amount of grimm that were showing up had started to worry her. She looked behind her towards the caravan she was protecting, yelling between breaths. “Get across the bridge now!”

“Are you sure you can handle this?” the caravan leader yelled back. “There’s no shame in blowing the bridge!”

“My job is to make sure you get across the bridge and to the next village!” Penny took a few steps back towards the bridge, eyes on the grimm in front of her. “I will follow once you are across!”

“We’ll hold you to that, Penelope!”

Penny sighed as she heard the name, still not quite used to being called it. Still, she couldnt worry about that now, not while the grimm were more aggressive than normal. Her blades stayed between her and the grimm as she tried to keep them from the caravan. Then, she paused as a larger beowolf made its way closer. She swore the eyes were silver instead of red, her body freezing as she remembered the Hound when it attacked.

She came out of her thoughts as she felt the grimm ran into her. Penny lost her footing and fell back, slipping off the edge of the bridge. No scream left her lips as she fell down the abyss, swearing she saw silver eyes staring back at her as she listened to the caravan leader call out her name. Soon, she felt water rush around her. It was warmer than she had expected, almost turning to light as she continued to sink. She closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate until she felt air across her face.

Penny gasped as she swam to shore and climbed out of the water, coughing as her body practically glowed. She picked herself up and started to walk back to the bridge she had fallen from, pausing as she watched a gash on her arm heal itself. With a sigh, she continued moving on forward, ready to continue her work.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.101 Cash money

I took Kooper for a nice long walk, which was something we didn't do often. He was chill and required less physical activity than Rosie, so I always favored her when I wanted company on my jogs. Even though he could have gone without, he appreciated the time together and smiled the entire time. When we got home, Sophia was standing at the door giving me that look. I unleashed Kooper as quickly as I could and whisked her away into our love den. Being on vacation in a fancy house was cool and all, but nothing compared to our own bed. I think we were trying to show it how much we missed it and lingered there until our stomachs growled around dinnertime. Afterward, we attempted to settle on the couch in the office, but we were intercepted by a huge pile of presents. I forgot that was a thing sims did at weddings. Sophia was overjoyed at the sight; it felt like Winterfest all over again.

I let her open the first two from my parents, but then she handed me a box that had my name on it. I thought it was odd that the sender would single me out when the gift should have been for both of us. But when I saw who it was from, I understood.

"It's from Dub! Oh, there's a card..."

[click to enlarge]

I couldn't believe it and had to sit down and read it again. He had no idea how much of a blessing that was for us. Or maybe he did. Whatever the case, I was elated, and humbled, and determined, and proud, and all the other positive emotions. Our friendship was such a beautiful thing. Not because he gave me money, but because it was pure. It had no conditions or warnings or complications. He was the kind of friend I always wanted.

Eventually, it hit me that Sophia and I were about to come into a bunch of money and we could accomplish our dreams a lot sooner than later. I started dancing in my seat.

"A money tree? I didn't think they were real," Sophia said.

"Isn't it great?? If it grows fast enough, we could be in our house by next week!"

That thought excited me even more, and I danced even wilder.

"It's a very generous gift," she said hesitantly, "but..."

Like a record scratch in the club, I stopped. Party done.

"What's wrong? With all the money we're about to have, you'll never have to work again if you don't want to. We can go on vacations and stay as long as we want, buy our kids whatever they want... Hell, maybe I won't have to worry about teaching classes anymore. It's gonna be great!"

Her hands snapped to her hips, and I knew I'd messed up somehow.

"No, Luca! This is what I mean! I like who we are. Money has a way of changing sims, and I don't want that. I thought you taught yoga because you were passionate about it. Why would you stop? Are you doing it for the money?"

"I am passionate about it! But it's also how I make a living. If I didn't have to worry about making money, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about going from spa to spa, begging for a chance to teach!"

Her eyes flicked open, like she just realized something.

"But that's why you're going to open a studio."

"Yeah, but..." I sank back in the chair and let out all the air in my lungs. "That was my mom's idea. It's a good one, and sometimes I want to do it too. But sometimes I want my own plan. Everything I've done has been her idea, and..."

"So...you don't want a studio?"

"I don't know!"

She gasped.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just...it's complicated. You want me to return the seed, then?"

She sighed.

"No. That will be an insult to Dub and his family..." She sighed again and paced the room, searching for a solution that would satisfy us both. "It would be nice to move into our house before the baby comes, but I don't want this to get out of control."

Something like a bolt of lightning struck through my soul, and I felt my eyes grow as large as the sun.

"The baby?! Are you-"

She gasped again.

"I'm sorry! That came out wrong! I just meant it would be nice to be settled in our home before we start having babies."

"So...we're not having a baby?"

"Not at the moment."

I was a little bit disappointed, to be honest. Her slip up shocked me at first, but I was kind of excited about it.

"Alright, so what do you suggest we do?" I asked.

"I just think we need a plan. Put some controls on it so we don't go crazy."

Heh, I know she said we, but she totally meant me. Whatever.

"We don't know how much money it's going to give us," she continued. "So what if we just take what we need to get our house and cover ourselves for a few months?"

"Alright... But what happens after that?"

"It can just sit there until an emergency comes up. Or when our kids want to move out or go to university or get married or...whatever."

The plan wasn't exactly what I wanted, but at least she wasn't completely opposed. This very much felt like one of those pick your battles moments, so I conceded.

"Okay fine. We can do it that way. Let's get this thing in the ground."

We went outside and picked a spot to plant it. I laughed when I took the seed out of the box.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"This seed! It's cash shaped like a flower! What kind of wizardry is this?"

I dug a hole, dumped the seed, covered it, and poured some water on it. Then, I stood over it, watching as if something were supposed to happen.

"Grow fast, little guy. I want to be in our new house as soon as possible."

Before going back into the house, I sent Dub a message to thank him for the gift.

Dub's note written by @mysimsloveaffair

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi mara, do you ever have a spontaneous sense of longing? as in, yearning for something or missing something— anything you’ve had before? It’s a feeling i’m battling a lot lately but can’t really find solace about it rn beyond just telling myself to move on. is that what the feeling is like for you as well? either way, stay safe out there, hope your day treats you well.

hey anonymous, good morning;

sure, of course. lately i:ve been watching a lot of warcraft 3 videos by Grubby on youtube (sub to the grub, he says), and sometimes watching it i:ll get this pang of nostalgia spurred on by something silly, like: seeing the rain on the map, and really noticing some of the models (like the mur'gul creeps, or the necromancers, or even just the ui spell icons for the necromancers) and i:ll get this flash of seeing those things though i were a kid again, and remembering the magic they all held for me back then--and i long to be able to have that same magical world; as a kid, it were like i could open the map editor in wc3 and exist with it, and when i made a marshy rainy little town filled with zombies and mur'guls at the outskirt swamps it would be like the monitor-glass between me and the world didn't exist and it were just as real as my room (realer, even); i could just spend days and weeks living inside videogames like that just off imagination; diablo, and wc2, and starcraft, and dwarf fortress. then at some point my brain calloused and that magic got sealed-off with age, like a layer deeper from when playing with toys and dolls stopped meaning anything more than touching masses of plastic in an empty air conditioned room.

sometimes, outside of nostalgia, i:ll have wish to be in a relationship with some loving spouse i can pour myself into supporting (all this dumb housekeeping and cooking has to go towards something); i:ll think of going on trips to try foods and realize there:s no one in my life for that except my mom. sometimes see streamers or youtubers with their kid and have a soft longing wish that i could have a kid.

but i:m married to the faith and feeling painful lonelinesses here-and-there are part of the relationship, and the sacrifices; sure enough you get bored and accustomed to anything that is regular in your life. swobu, zug zug, i sense a soul in search of answers, anonymous!

[lexi-sexual]

I need to get this out. I wish I could remember my original tumblr info because this would blend so well on there. But Liam Payne’s death hurts and I want to talk about it. I was 18, just shy of 19 when I discovered them. A friend and I used some of their silly dance moves to make up our own dance to WMYB. My boyband, pop music loving soul loved them IMMEDIATELY. A lot of shitty things had been happening in my family. Our lives were getting thrown out of whack. As an adult my main job was to take care of my niece. So with no car, and no money, I would wait for my niece to get off the bus nearly every day. In that time I was able to pay more and more attention to One Direction. Baby ya girl was delulu to the max. Obsessed and delusional. That was me. But I would watch the same videos, I’d read the fan fiction, I’d replay the songs on YouTube, etc. Even after I got out of that situation and things got better, I still loved them. I loved them so much that it would give my mom a chuckle.

(I wish my mom was still here so I could cry to her. She’d make me feel better. She always did.)

When I say I feel this loss deep in my heart and soul, I mean it. It doesn’t compare to losing my mom, but it definitely feels like I just lost someone very near and dear to me. Doesn’t matter that I had never met him and he had no idea who I was. 32 year old me is trying to heal 19-24 year old me right now. And I’m not doing very good at it. It’s easy to pretend it’s fake until you have to realize it isn’t. It hurts in a way that makes it hard to breathe. I’ve cried off and on since I heard the news. I actually have to force myself to sleep. It’s fucking ridiculous how badly this has hurt me.

I’m agnostic, but ever since my mom died in 2018, I’ve always liked to believe there is some sort of heaven out there. One where you find everyone again. I wonder if my mom would be upset if the day I die, I told her to wait a minute and went in search of Liam. Just to tell him that I’m sorry I hadn’t paid that much attention to them all lately. That I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention to his solo career. Sorry that I never gave him some sort of sign that his music was appreciated. That he, himself was appreciated.

I am not doing okay. I’ll eventually be okay though. But this is a loss I’ll feel for a long time, even when I don’t talk about it. Right now it’s all fresh and painful. Right now it’s just me listening to One Direction and Liam Payne, watching old videos, and just grieving and reminiscing.

No one will probably see this but just in case his family or friends do one day see this, I am so sorry for y’all’s loss. My heart aches for you. He deserved more than what he was given.

RIP Liam Payne. This one really fucking hurts.

[pogirosary]

My Realization of Self and God

I never thought much of my spirituality and how it affected the people around me. Especially my family, relatives and friends. I always thought it was strictly between myself and God. Growing up as a young boy no one ever called me a name,nor degraded me in any way because of my "religion" or my "religious practices." I never had to defend myself against harsh religious comments. I can't say that during our younger years, we all "respected" each other's religion. Sixth grade and below, we didn't really understand things such as respect and religion; Seventh grade and above, guys were more interested in girls and cars and girls were more interested in guys and their cars. Religion just wasn't one of the personal characteristics we were interested in. As an adult however, it seams to be just the opposite. Religion and the religious practices of a person are very important to that person's family and friends. Sometimes a change in a person's religion or religious practices causes such an outrage in that person's family that the person becomes ostracized from his or her family. 

My "spirituality" has become a concern of some in my immediate family. My beliefs and spiritual life is not the same as it was when I left home at the age of 18 after enlisting in the Navy. Words such as "idol worshiper" and "Mary worshiper" have been used by those who I hold in very high esteem. My core values (which I will explain later) have been strained, but they do remain in tact. I respect everyone and their view of what I have become, even if I don't agree with their assessment. when I was very young, patience was one of the things I lacked and a temper was something I had in abundance. Today I have an abundance of patients and the strength and guidance from God to use it wisely against the temper I once had. So, bring on your judgments of me and my wife but also know that I leave judgment to God. I will continue to live the religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms I have learned from the Catholic Church, prayer and research. I leave it to the Lord to defend His religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms as they are lived out in my life. 

Some might say I "converted" to Catholicism but, no, I think I grew into it. It took a lot of thinking, soul-searching, research, looking back and looking forward, trying to see how God and spirituality fit into my life. It did not happen "overnight" or even over a decade. 

I was born into a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant world - Baptist to be precise. The first church I remember attending is Donald Smith Memorial Baptist Church in Oaklawn, Illinois. It was kinda-sorta behind our house. It was a rectangular two-story building. The first floor was for "Sunday School" for the kids, the second floor was the main chapel. It was just pews, pulpit and a large head and shoulder portrait of Jesus above the choir loft behind the pulpit. I even remember Mrs. Cunningham who was both my first grade public school teacher and my Sunday School teacher. She would seek out my Mom every Sunday morning <sigh> I couldn't get away with anything that year. I was too young then to really understand who God was and what he did. 

After 5th grade, my family moved to New Lenox Illinois. We started going to Ridgewood Baptist Church in Joliet. I don't remember too much about it. If my memory serves me correctly, both of my sisters, at one time or another, worked in the Church Office. it was another rectangular building with pews and a pulpit, with no pictures, statues or any other artwork. It didn't leave much of an impression on me. I don't know, I was still young then. After a couple of years, my parents started going to the First Baptist Church of New Lenox. It was very small. Again, it was another rectangular building with pews and a pulpit, no pictures, statues or any other artwork. I don't remember much about it either. I was baptized into that church when I turned 18 and was on my way into the military. I think it was more of me "covering all my bases" than a real commitment. I was a senior in high-school, I didn't want to commit to anything. I had just joined the Navy because I didn't want to be drafted. At that time, most draftees were being sent to Vietnam. 

The military had all kinds of "chaplains" ironically, the only ones I met were Catholic Chaplains. It's "ironic" because my record clearly stated that I was Protestant. 

My first ship, the USS Oriskany took me all over the Pacific and Indian oceans. Everywhere we went there was always a Catholic Church and the Catholic Chaplain always made it a point to invite me to "tour" the Church with him. Many of them were very old and very elaborate with sculptures, paintings and stained glass. Many people have what I will call an "uneducated view" of the religious sculptures, paintings and other artworks. The artwork in a Catholic Church comes from a time when most people could not read or write. Many of the great Masters could not read, but they wanted to glorify God. They did so through their artwork. What I see in especially the old Churches is the Bible in pictures and sculptures. Michelangelo, painter of the Sistine Chapel, creator of many statues - most notably, "David", architect of St. Peter's Dome, and much more, could not read or write; but he could praise God and preach the Gospel through his hands, to others who like him, could not read the scriptures but they could "read" his sculptures and paintings. It's the God that the artwork portrays that is being worshiped, not the artwork nor the artist. 

Is it wrong to sit down and gaze upon a picture of someone long past, say, a parent? Someone you might have loved very much, and yearn for them to come back? Is it wrong to look at that picture and talk to that person as if he or she was there with you and tell him or her how much you miss him or her? Is it wrong for you to believe the person in that picture is in Heaven looking after you? Is it wrong to ask the person in the picture for help and believe that he or she is praying with you to God for an answer? Is it wrong to go to the grave-site of someone you love and discuss a problem with them? Is it wrong to ask that loved one to help you pray or to pray with you to God? 

Through the Catholic Church, architecture and art, I have come to know and believe in two families; my earthly one, consisting of my parents and sisters, and my spiritual family, consisting of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Pictures of my earthly family come from cameras, pictures of my spiritual family were made by the Masters. Both are made by humans. 

 The Rosary - nothing seems to say Catholic more than the Rosary. I've heard many say that it isn't found in the Bible. That's true, very true, the Rosary is in fact not found in any Bible. But, the Bible is in fact in the Rosary. Again, artwork created for those who could not read or write. The Rosary through it’s mysteries, contain the New Testament, from the birth of Jesus to his death, resurrection and beyond. I use it every day as an aid in prayer, it helps to "make the world around me go away", so that I can speak and listen more reverently and clearly to God. If non-Catholics would just listen to the words or read the Rosary, especially the last sentence of the "Hail Mary," they would know that we are not praying to Mary or anyone else, we are in-fact praying only to God. 

 My commitment to God and to religion did not happen over night. It happened over many years of searching self and soul; searching the earthly world and the spiritual world; searching various religions, cultures and ways of life. I have called on St. Peter, St. Paul and a few other saints who were once as human as I am now, in just the same way I still call on my Dad and Mom for advice. Catholicism as I know it, is not a religion, it's a way of life. A way of life defined not by anything earthly, but by a God that is open to everyone, a God who is compassionate but demanding unquestioned faith and belief. 

 The self and soul search goes on, the earthly world tries to pull me in one direction, the spiritual world tries to pull me in another direction. I put no boundaries between worlds, I try my best not to judge anyone in either world. I do my best to leave judgment to God. 

It doesn't matter what we label ourselves as, Protestant, Catholic, Jehovah Witness, Methodist, ... What matters, to God, is how we live. Do we follow Jesus and his disciples? Or do we judge each other on how we go about our daily lives, how we as individuals worship, or how we as individuals interpret individual passages in the Bible? Do we throw away the Bible and peck at each other over "our" individual interpretation of individual passages of a very large book? 

God made us all different, maybe we should accept the differences and accept each other as brothers and sisters the way Jesus accepted his disciples and all those who believed and had faith in him. "Catholic" is only a label, how and what I believe and have faith in along with how I worship is my way of life. It is between me and God and wrong for me to judge others on their way of life. 

Lastly, through my research, Catholicism teaches me that I should not only "love" all of humanity, but that I should also respect everyone's race, age, sex, career, culture, customs, traditions, character, religion and their points of view. Essentially, as a Catholic, I should respect every aspect of every person's life. It is OK to respectfully disagree with someone but wrong to disrespect them or any part of their being. So, bring on your criticisms of my religious practices. I'll just pass them on to the Lord and let Him deal with them.

[ratranine]

Really long ramble about my oc's below @toxictidepod241

Okay, so I really want to make my own webcomic series sometime in the future, basically sort of a passion project. The gist of it is two lonely and directionless people take a roadtrip around the world to rediscover spark in their lives. The first characters name is Prim (name might change in the future), she comes from a very scifi/cyberpunk part of the world (which has a bunch of worldbuilding that is going to take it's own post to explain), but after her dad dies she starts for the first time to really question herself and her future. She realizes how few her connections really are (basically just her mom) and that she has no plans for the future and a lot of regrets. So she leaves her city to go down to the more rural (solarpunk) part of the world for some soul-searching. Prim is an artist, along with her whole family who all work with something creative, and she goes around practicing her street art/graffiti work wherever she can, at the same time she's working on a picture book. During her time there, she visits the graveyard (cause her dad died) and comes across the caretaker for the graveyard. His name is Vinen (pronounced vai-nen), and he kind of lives at the graveyard, he's the only one who works there. And so he's been isolated for a very long time (kind of like those lighthouse keepers) doing a job he really doesn't care that much for. His one coping mechanism is to daydream away his loneliness, often fantasizing about living in a fancy castle in a different world that feels less boring and mundane. When he meets prim and sees her art, he at first thinks she's been drawing stuff from her own imagination, before finding out that she's mostly been painting real life scenes from her journey so far (at least in her picturebook) . And that snaps him out of the idea that real life is boring, suddenly finding the urge to seek out adventure and fantasy in real life instead of wasting away at his job. Basically, Prim thinks her art isn't good enough and still haven't gotten over her grief yet, while Vinen sees a whole new magical world within her art and desperately wants to find joy in his life again at the same time he recognizes the sadness in Prim and wants to help her work through it.

There are a bunch more characters and plot points in this story, but that's the basic summary of it. :)

[vulturevanity]

My very legit Nintendo DSi Enhanced and totally existent physical cartridge with the game Pokémon White stopped chugging and crashing every 5 minutes just after I left Mistralton, so I guess the town was the issue. We continue on to POKEMON WHITE DAY 6. A lot of things happened today, so I'll put it all under a break.

Cheren and I went down into the bowels of Twist Mountain and witnessed a fascinating chunk of ice; of all the ice I've seen in my life, that was some of it! I could tell something was bothering Cher, but I didn't want to pry. Then Team Pokemon Rights Terrorism showed up when we were just leaving, which made things a little awkward, but we dispatched them quickly, and Ruby evolved into Emboar. Cher and I parted ways then, and then I got to Icirrus and went straight to the gym because it looked like it was about to rain.

Ruby and Jasper went wild on the baby bears and snowflakes, with the rest of my team watching enthusiastically -- Yuri going so far as to act as a cheerleader for them. It was really cute, especially when Jasper volunteered to once again solo the battle vs the leader (Brycen's Beartic threatened Ruby with Brine and Moxie is very convenient). She actually evolved mid-fight, as soon as she knocked out Cryogonal, and it was such a hype moment I jumped to celebrate, slipped on the ice and fell on my butt. Good times. Ow.

Cher and Bianca were arriving just as I was leaving, and by their looks I knew the conversation was going to be important. Cher shyly said, and I quote, "a lot of soul-searching has been done" since we'd first bumped into Champion Alder and had a heart to heart about how we wanted to live our lives (this happened a few days ago, I didn't mention it because it didn't seem important. But old people are awesome), and with a bit of encouragement from Bianca, quietly came out as trans. I was like "oh. Cool, me too. Can we get out of the rain now?", because it was pouring and we were soaking wet.

And we were going to, but then freelance ninjas hired by team Plasma ambushed us and said N was waiting for me at the Dragonspire Tower. A few emotions were running high at the moment, and Cher stomped ahead furious. Bianca looked at the verge of a panic attack, so I left her at the Pokemon Center with Professor Juniper Senior and ran after Cher, Brycen right after me.

The Tower was besieged with grunts. We beat some of them up and Ferb evolved in the process, finally making team EAGLES into the best version of themselves. But progress was slow and so Cher and Brycen stayed behind to stall them while I snuck my way up to the top, where something very large and very furious was throwing a tantrum. At the very top I found N talking to a LARGE FUCKOFF WYVERN-HORSE THING who is apparently Reshiram. N said something about wanting me to challenge him -- I have no idea what he wants from me, I'm just a guy. I think deep down he knows what he's doing is wrong and wants someone to stop him, and I just so happened to be there that one time in Accumula, so he picked me to be his rival. Which technically makes me Enemy of the Crown, huh.

Oh boy. I hope my mom is not in a dungeon somewhere.

Anyway, they left, then we gathered and left to the Pokecenter, and Alder conveniently showed up with another half of the legend that says a second Legendary, Zekrom, will respond to whoever gets a Dark Stone from Relic Castle. Knowing that this whole thing has been made my business by The King of Unova himself, I had no choice but to go. I bid farewell to the elders and the girls, flew back to Nimbasa and walked back to the Desert Resort to be absorbed by the shifting sands of the Relic Castle and fulfill my destiny, or whatever.

Team EAGLES, at last:

Ruby (Emboar F, lv 39)

Ferb (Archeops M, lv 39)

Lilo (Galvantula F, lv 39)

Yuri (Lilligant, lv 39)

Orion (Excadrill M, lv 39)

Jasper (Scrafty F, lv 39)

P.S.: I realize I don't have an active pokemon that can learn Surf. this is fine, Prince (my service Herdier) can aid me in that regard.

[silence-in-silence]

My Identity

Part 2

Since these feelings and thoughts returned a month ago, I've been doing some soul-searching. Although I haven't made any decisions yet, I've had some realizations about my time growing up as a young boy.

As a child, I always knew something about me was different, as I mentioned in Part 1. Not in a "chosen one", movie kind of way. I just knew that I felt different from other kids and I didn't know what it meant or how to express it. I have always tried to understand what it meant, why do I feel so different?

Any other medical reason, physical or mental, proved fruitless. My trauma seemed to be causing what I thought was ADHD, and I don't quite fit the diagnostic criteria for ASD, although my therapist noted that she can see how some of the criteria manifest in me. Looking back, I can see how a lot of my behaviors and traits are things I learned from my parents, and not really getting the socialization I needed from a young age.

With the possibility of being transgender looming in the back of my mind, I've made some connections that could explain that feeling of "different" and that emptiness I feel on a daily basis. Growing up I used to be jealous when my mom and sisters would have a girls day out or a girls night and I couldn't go with them. I knew that I couldn't because I was a boy, but I didn't quite understand it. When I'm out in public, I feel like I come off in a feminine way. Do I really? No idea, probably not, but it might just be the way I view myself in general. Showering is when I feel the most feminine, because when I close my eyes that is what I see myself as and I feel lighter when I do so, if that makes sense.

Journaling has helped me identify these feelings and develop them further. Delving into how I see myself in five to ten years, what I see when I think of femininity and why it resonates with me, and how I would feel if I woke up tomorrow as the opposite gender. With each of these I have noticed a sort of longing, something I didn't notice before. And I've noted a contentment with these ideas, especially if I woke up tomorrow as a woman. Could I, perhaps, been born wrong after all? Could that feeling of "different" and emptiness be manifestations of dysphoria? These are questions that I've asked myself since I made that connection.

I've made the decision to tell my therapist the next time I see her. I tried this week, but my nerves got the better of me and I couldn't do it. Even though I haven't made any decisions regarding transitioning, I still want to talk to a professional about this and get advice. If transitioning is something I want to do in the future, I want to be sure of myself.

[raining-anonymously]

OKAY SCREW IT you’re getting the full Deltarune theory post. Buckle in—this will be a long one.

Part 1: Undertale Connections As we all know, Deltarune is its own game, separate from Undertale, but is also specifically intended for audiences who have not only played but delved into the lore of Undertale. I’m interpreting this to mean that while most of Deltarune’s questions won’t be answered by Undertale, plenty of Undertale’s questions will be answered by Deltarune. They won’t be the main focus of the story, because we’ve already seen their story—but they’ll be there. 

For example, the Soul. I don’t think it’ll ever be explicitly stated, but I do think we’ll get implications as to the nature of the Red Soul. My belief is that sometime after a True Pacifist route, Undertale!Gaster managed to get in contact with Chara—still connected to Frisk—and asks it to assist him with saving the world of Deltarune. It agrees, which is what the hidden demon dialogue is about. Gaster plans to do this by putting Chara’s Soul into a vessel, but has not realized that the Chara’s Soul belongs to Frisk, and has to change plans and bring Frisk along, too. The Soul we see in Deltarune is Frisk, and the narrator is the same Chara who narrated a Pacifist Undertale, which is why their tone and jokes are so familiar. 

Then there’s the question everyone has been asking since Undertale’s release—what the hell is up with those funky skeletons? Like I said, I don’t think Undertale characters are going to be the main focus of this game, but they are going to have roles—like Toriel and Undyne/Napstablook probably will next chapter. The difference between that role and the role I think Sans and Papyrus will play is that Toriel, Undyne, Blooky, Mettaton, Alphys, Asgore, Asriel, the Mad Ghost, everyone… they’re all different people than their Undertale counterparts. Sans and Papyrus are not. I know, I know, you’ve heard this one before—but hear me out. A lot of the cast is older in Deltarune, right? Frisk, a small child, is about the same age as Monster Kid and Suzy, and MK and Susie are teenagers in Deltarune (assuming the MK and Susie of Deltarune aren’t siblings of the original two). DR!Gerson is also (probably) dead of old age. Kris, who is a parallel to Chara and Frisk, is a teenager. There are exceptions to this rule—Snowy is, bizarrely, the same age—but most people appear to be around the same age or slightly older. But then there’s the skeletons. 

Sans is more awkward (the whole Torgore scene), taking longer to come up with jokes (when you return the Heart Candy), and acts a little more immature with his humor (your mom). Papyrus is also implied to be a teenager, seeing as Sans thinks it would be weird for him to hang out with Kris, but also thinks Papyrus should. That’s kinda odd. They’re both clearly adults in Undertale—Papyrus even refers to Sans as a grown man in the fifth anniversary alarm clock dialogue—but their Deltarune selves seem to be years younger. Plus, Sans has the exact same sprite as he does in Undertale. I don’t know if anyone else has this, and the other major UT characters certainly don’t. I’ll elaborate on how this occurred later, but I think the place Sans wants to go back to in Undertale is, in fact, Deltarune. Upon getting to Undertale’s world, Sans and Papyrus connected with UT!Gaster, leading to Sans becoming a scientist in search of getting home.

Part 2: Gaster

I’m a fan of the Two Gasters theory. Most of the other Lightners are or are implied to have alternate selves, after all. That leaves us with Undertale Gaster and Deltarune Gaster, who I’ll call UT!Gaster and DR!Gaster for clarity’s sake. UT!Gaster is the guy who we have a 1/1000 chance of meeting, who built the core, who wants to save Deltarune, whose text appears during the survey and other points of Deltarune, and who gives Kris the Eggs. He’s a pretty nice guy, actually. 

Then we’ve got DR!Gaster. Basically, he’s everything we’re working against. He wants to open more Dark Fountains—but he’s not the Knight. I’ll get to that. Point is, this guy is not the friendly survey guy. He’s Gaster, sure, but a completely different version of him.

Part 3: The Knight At the moment, I’m team Papyrus-Is-The-Knight. We’ve all seen every evidence post for every character, so I’m not gonna get too into that. In this theory, Sans and Papyrus either moved into Hometown with DR!Gaster (probably a third brother, a father, or some other acquaintance), or to get away from him. If it’s the latter, it did not work. DR!Gaster is encouraging Papyrus to make the Fountains, and is the reason Papyrus developed the Knight persona. Sans has no idea this is going on. 

Importantly—I do not think Papyrus is a malicious character here. If he is the Knight, I’d expect he’s doing what he thinks is right, or at least what DR!Gaster thinks is right.

Part 4: Secret Bosses I still can’t decide which Gaster is more likely to have manipulated the secret bosses. Maybe it’s both—the strange someone seems to have pushed them too far by accident, but there’s also a threatening presence who doesn’t want Spamton talking about the Knight. Then again, there’s the theory that Jevil and Spamton and all the others are failed attempts at making a Ralsei. I don’t know... maybe this stuff will make more sense when we figure out how Tenna and Mike connect to Spamton?

Part 5: Seam and the Shadow Crystals In case this actually gets notes, this feels like a good place to remind people that Seam does not use he/him pronouns. Canonically, Seam uses they or no pronouns. Please don’t misgender Seam on my post. *pointing at Seam* This cat is gonna be so important I’m telling you—no where are you going come back— For real, though, Seam is a very interesting character, even without what I like to call the Blorbo Bias. Seam is the only Darkner we’ve met so far who’s been unintentionally exposed to the same kinds of information as a secret boss—it seems like Jevil relayed the things he learned to Seam without the strange someone’s knowledge. Seam’s eye is also foreshadowed in Undertale. It’s also implied that Seam beat Jevil in a fight, despite how strong we all know Jevil to be. And Seam is collecting our Shadow Crystals without much consent on the Player’s part—which is a bit concerning considering that Shadow Crystals make Darkners stronger (kinda like human souls for monsters amirite-). By the end of Deltarune, Seam could have up to seven Crystals. ...yeah. There’s more, but this post as a whole is not about Seam, so I’m holding back.

What I’m getting at is that as much as I like to joke that Seam just has a Shadow Crystal special interest, this cat is definitely planning something. My theory? The Crystals seemingly allow us to see into other timelines and other worlds, so I’m thinking that if Seam's planning to use them to reach into the Light World and get a Gaster’s attention. Why? Well, Gaster did kind of ruin Seam’s life, so... revenge, maybe? Or, if Seam thinks Gaster is going to be the cause of the Roaring, maybe it’s a last-ditch attempt to save the world. Anyway, the party probably knows enough by Chapter 7 to realize that this is a bad idea, so we’re going to end up fighting a seven-shadow-crystal Seam as the final, overpowered secret boss, who is only unlockable by beating every other boss. (Good for Seam. Seam deserves to let out that repressed emotion, even if that means killing us so many times that we want to throw out the game.) 

Part 6: Dess and Asriel I don’t know, I don’t KNOW LEAVE ME ALONE- Yeah, that sums it up. For the most part, I’ve got no clue what’s going on with these guys. My only main theories are that Asriel is not as perfect as he seems, and Dess went missing in the bunker when Noelle was little+Asgore couldn’t find her. As for the rest... we shall see.

Part 7: Susie and Kris Based on Everything, especially the recent Spamton Sweepstakes lore, I’ve come to the conclusion that Kris and Susie were together in the foster system, specifically a human-run branch. When they were in first grade, the Dreemurrs adopted Kris. During this endeavor, Susie started acting out and got in trouble, possibly threatened with arrest; Toriel prevented this from happening, which Susie remembers and remains grateful for years later. However, Susie still resented Kris for leaving her, unbeknownst to Kris, who thought they parted on good terms. 

Susie lived in a human community for years, facing discrimination for being a monster, before eventually moving to Hometown, possibly on her own after running away.

Part 8: Ralsei Ralsei is a weird guy. He refers to himself as a Darkner, but other Darkners refer to him as a Lightner, and most people tend to look him over easily—take Queen, Noelle, and Berdly. I’m not saying “only Kris and Susie can see him” or anything—he is acknowledged by other Lightners and Darkners alike, but only when he pushes the point.

I don’t think that he’s quite a Lightner nor a Darkner—a sort of parallel to Flowey in Undertale, who wasn’t human nor monster. As for his existence, keeping with the theory that secret bosses are failed Ralseis, I’d like to think that he, too, is the discarded object of Kris’s headband—or, possibly created from the Dark Fountain itself after his creator gave up on the discarded object shtick. I think he is created to represent Kris’s more complicated feelings about themself and their family, but Ralsei is unaware of this and only knows he’s meant to be a guide to the Lightners and the third part of the Legendary Heroes. 

I don’t think he’s secretly evil—in fact, he might even be created by UT!Gaster to help save Deltarune’s world. Ralsei himself definitely seems to be on the side of good, even if he isn’t sure what that means for him. Do I think there’s something off about him? Yeah. But when push comes to shove, he’s going to have to make a choice, and I believe that choice will be in his friends’ favor.

Part 9: Reset Theory I believe the original Deltarune timeline was when the whole “new girl” post on Noelle’s blog happened. Over the course of that timeline, the Roaring did in fact occur, and Kris was unable to stop it no matter how many times they reloaded, and so gave up—similar to the six human kids giving up during their fight with Asgore. The key difference between Kris’s experience and the six kids is that something triggered a Reset in Kris’s timeline, rather than just quitting. Thing is, I don’t think the person who triggered the Reset was Kris—because just like Frisk and Chara don’t remember True Resets, Kris doesn’t act like they remember any of our Saves and Loads, let alone another entire timeline.

Enter UT!Gaster.

He, likely with the help of Frisk and Chara, triggered a Reset, where everything was the same—except for Kris’s soul, which is now Frisk’s. Together, all of us are trying to get a better ending, and if we fail, the world will be covered in darkness.

Part 10: The Plan What exactly are we trying to accomplish with Deltarune? A better ending, sure—that seems to be almost everyone’s end goal. But there also seems to be a lot of infighting. UT!Gaster wanted the Soul in a vessel; Chara discarded the vessel and put the Soul in Kris. Kris wants to help with the plan, but doesn’t like to be controlled. Everyone within the plan wants to stop the Roaring, but Kris and Chara seemingly arranged to make a Fountain together. And if the Soul shatters, we can reload, but if we don’t, UT!Gaster assumes that the world was “covered in darkness”—aka the Roaring.

So what’s going on?

I believe UT!Gaster and Chara have had the same goal from the beginning, but simply have different ways they want to accomplish it. UT!Gaster wants to create a vessel for Frisk and Chara, but Chara—efficient as ever—prefers to use the perfectly fine human who’s already there. Kris, although willing to help with this plan, does not fully trust the Soul, and obviously chafes against being controlled. As the Soul, Frisk’s purpose is to give us some more control over the narrative, as well as provide Kris with the Determination they need to manipulate the timeline and the Fountains.

But if that’s the case, why did Kris and Chara plan to pull the Soul out before creating the Fountain? 

Simple—Frisk didn’t know about the Fountain. Maybe the other two suspected they’d try and tell UT!Gaster (who would likely disapprove), or that they’d try to stop it from happening. Either way, they were intentionally kept out of the loop. We’ll probably find out the reason for creating the Fountain at all next chapter, but it was not an attempt to cause the Roaring.

Part 11: Kris, Frisk, Chara, and the Player If you don’t believe in Player Theory I’d just skip this part.

I think there are four parties involved with our choices during Deltarune. Chara has little to no control over individual actions, but can help by providing the extra information they have access to. Kris has a bit of their own agency, as shown whenever they move or say things on their own, and can control the way things are done. Frisk makes Kris stronger and supposedly is the one making the choices, and is the one behind the actions the Soul itself—like when it turns yellow during the Spamton NEO fight. 

But if these are the only people involved, there would be no cause for a Weird Route. Kris is obviously unhappy with the route. Chara and Frisk are post-Pacifist—and the “Proceed” and whatnot text doesn’t sound like something any of them would say. Plus, in Undertale, it’s established that while Frisk typically conforms to our decisions, they have their own preferences, and occasionally will act against us—like refusing to put effort into attacking Undyne during her hangout, walking at a slowed pace in the True Lab, and looking miserable when we tell them to ask for soda. I could ramble on forever about all of Frisk’s subtle characterizations, ‘cause there’s a LOT, but I won’t. My point is, someone else is pulling the strings—someone behind the scenes. 

There’s a lot of hints to this being us. Like, the real us, pushing buttons on a keyboard or console or what-have-you. For example, there’s a point where Ralsei will tell Kris to press one of the buttons—but this can’t be brushed off as Toby working tutorial stuff into the game like in Undertale, because Susie reacts to this with confusion, saying something among the lines of “Who the hell’s [A]?” 

Then there’s Jevil’s awareness that the world was a game. While this could just be referring to the fact that he’s a playing card, the other Darkners seem to know their nature as objects—Queen knows her serial number, Lancer+Rouxls can be taken into the Light World in Kris’s pocket, etc. Then again, Lancer also references pushing buttons in one of his signs, so who knows?

Part 12: The Roaring Let me start by saying that the plan is going to fail. The Roaring is going to happen.

I mean, we’re not getting off that easily—you saw the Prophecy. Kris, Susie, and Ralsei are destined to stop this calamity, and they can’t do that if the calamity never happens. Somehow, we’re going to get three Dark Fountains at the same time, probably around Chapter 6 or 7. All our friends will turn to stone, with the possible exception of people we have in our pockets, Seam (via the Shadow Crystals), and Ralsei. The key difference between this and the original timeline is that with the help of the Soul, Kris&co. will be strong enough to stop it.

Just a theory here, but I’m guessing that the third Dark Fountain will be created by Papyrus sometime after or during our hangout with him, and that in order to help the heroes stop the Roaring, he will have to sacrifice himself by leaving the world of Deltarune and going to the world of Undertale. Sans chooses to go with him. By doing this, both brothers are going to experience memory issues—Papyrus slightly more severely—which is the cause for the “Don’t forget” paper in their Undertale secret basement.

Other events leading up to and surrounding the Roaring may involve include learning what Ralsei’s deal is, a possible fight with Seam, Dess, the adult Lightners traveling to the Dark World, meeting either Gaster, and the reveal of what happened in the original timeline.

Part 13: Only One Ending? There is one ending to a completed Deltarune—the Roaring is stopped, Kris gets their own soul back, the skeletons are sent to Undertale, and Chara+Frisk go home. But the way this ending occurs will vary wildly.

I’m thinking that the Weird Routes for future chapters will only be available to those that did the Chapter 2 Weird Route—and all the ones after that. Similar to aborting a No Mercy route in Undertale, you need to stick to it the whole time to make it work. If you never take a Weird Route, you, Kris, and everyone else will part as friends. If you abort the Weird Route in later chapters, it’ll be a bit more tense. But if you continue the Weird Route through Chapter 7, Kris’s friends will have to help them break free of you.

Conclusion There are other, smaller theories and questions I have—whatever’s going on with Gerson and his family, for one—but this is the gist! I didn’t really proofread this, but if you stuck through the whole thing, well, congratulations! I’d love to hear your thoughts, whether you agree or disagree about any of this, or any add-ons. And, of course, I’m looking forward to being proven completely wrong when the next chapters come out!

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

[libraryofloveletters]

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context) 

Category: fluff for the most part. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do. 

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication. 

Letters had always been more of your thing. 

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him. 

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30. 

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter. 

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving. 

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment. 

September 30th.

‘Hi baby! 

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon. 

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ? 

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :) 

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you. 

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd. 

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure.  I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back. 

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor. 

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming) 

Peace out, 

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind. 

November 4th. 

‘Dear Evan, 

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you. 

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter. 

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up. 

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer. 

Anyways, signing off for now. 

Yours always, y/n. 

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet. 

December 21st. 

‘Hey y/n, 

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me. 

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now. 

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun. 

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now. 

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description. 

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ? 

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n. 

Peace out, 

Evan. 

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th. 

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it. 

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan, 

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ? 

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go. 

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories. 

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had. 

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah) 

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present? 

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country. 

February 12th. 

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it,  a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name. 

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas. 

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me. 

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell) 

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ? 

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it. 

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it. 

Peace out, 

Buck’ 

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash. 

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’ 

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there. 

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August. 

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it. 

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now. 

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall. 

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that. 

Except, she was still busy. 

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile. 

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n. 

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties. 

A fresh start. 

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into. 

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates. 

Buck’s last letter to you. 

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing. 

‘Dear Buck, 

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change. 

Guess where I decided to go ? 

Did you guess yet? 

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ? 

LA! 

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.) 

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ? 

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first. 

Yours always, y/n.’ 

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye. 

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor. 

The unit number was the only difference. 

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in. 

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address. 

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall. 

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years. 

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you. 

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door. 

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door. 

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?” 

“I am, who are you ?” 

“Y/n.” 

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled. 

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar. 

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer. 

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter. 

“Water’s fine, thanks” 

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you. 

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile. 

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?” 

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose” 

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums. 

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before. 

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?” 

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact. 

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer. 

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?” 

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.” 

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles. 

“Buck, we live in the same building.” 

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other. 

“Okay.” 

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner  @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez​ @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18​ @anxiousblanketqueen​

[rocorambles]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Yuji x Reader

Summary: You’ve always wondered what happened to that pink haired boy who had become your closest friend in the very early years of your life and you finally get the answers you’ve been searching for.

A/N: This is for the Anilysium Server’s SFW collab. Masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you notice about Yuji is his pink hair. There are lots of kids your age playing in the park, laughing and talking to each other in the sandbox, on the swings, at the playground. But it’s that shocking head of pink that grabs your attention and with childish innocence and curiosity you make a beeline for the boy you don’t know, ignoring your mom’s warning to stop running. And it’s with embarrassment that your mom chases after you, profusely apologizing to Yuji’s grandfather when you grab a tuft of that soft pink hair in your little fist in awe.

But fortunately for the both of you, the older man just smiles and waves away your mom’s mortification and Yuji giggles, light brown eyes sparking as he grabs a strand of your hair in return, commenting on its color.

It might be the strangest greeting either adult has ever seen, but it seems to work as you both release each other’s hair and instinctively reach for each other’s hands as you race towards the sandbox, chattering about what the two of you can build together with the little plastic buckets and shovels sprawled about.

Yuji’s always been a social child, boys and girls naturally drawing towards his sunny disposition and outgoing nature. So it’s not shocking to see how quickly he’s befriended you. But what is interesting is how attached he is to you and his grandfather smiles in amusement when Yuji instantly searches for you first when he goes to the park each day, flat out ignoring the excited cries from his other friends to join them, either perking up or pouting depending on if you’re there or not. And to both his and your mother’s entertainment, you seem equally enamored. The two adults exchange knowing smiles when you practically drag your mom into a sprint upon seeing your new best friend.

Your parents take turns taking you to the park depending on their work schedules and on the weekends the three of you all go, enjoying a day off as a family. The Itadoris get to know both your parents well and the adults picnic and chat amicably and easily as Yuji and you romp and run around the park.

But it was only a matter of time before your curiosity got the better of you and for once Yuji is quiet when you ask him why it’s always his grandpa who brings him to the park.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

There’s no malicious intent and you quirk your head in confusion when he doesn’t immediately answer what seems like an easy question to you.

“I don’t have a mommy and daddy.”

You’re not sure what to do or think of that reply, so you easily move on to your next question full speed ahead in a way only children can, leaving the weird feeling surrounding Yuji and you far behind. And this time it’s Yuji’s turn to cock his head in confusion with your next inquiry.

“Do you want to get married when you’re older?”

“Married? What’s that?”

“Married like my mommy and daddy! It’s when two people really like each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together.”

The concept of a mom and dad aren’t foreign to Yuji. He knows it’s normal, knows he’s the odd man out even at his young age with only a grandpa to take care of him. But he’s never dwelled too much on why he doesn’t have a pair of parents, fully satisfied and happy living with his grandpa.

But marriage...that’s a new concept he can’t quite understand, something he’s never seen firsthand or grown up with in the household. And he listens in awe as you ramble on with your explanation.

Is that why your parents always seem so happy together? Is that why grandpa sometimes seems so sad? Because he isn’t married? Yuji wants to be happy too!

“Let’s get married!”

You stare wide-eyed at the enthusiastic boy staring intently at you, surprised by the decisiveness in his tone.

“I really like you and I want to play together with you forever!”

Well when he puts it like that…

You grab his hands in yours and excitedly nod your head.

“I really like you too! Let’s tell my parents and your grandpa!”

Three sets of mouths gape at the two of you when you determinedly stand in front of where the adults are seated, hands entwined as you announce that the two of you are going to get married. And then there’s laughter and your parents and Yuji’s grandfather are cooing and shaking their heads in amusement at how adorable the two of you are.

“Marriage is for when you’re older, so Yuji and you have to wait a little longer until you get married, okay?”

“Okay!” you both scream before running off to play on the slide, promise already pushed to the back of your little heads as you shriek and giggle about who can get down the slide faster.

Life continues on and despite how months pass and then years, the two of you never tire of each other, only seeming to become closer and closer. So it makes it that much more jarring when Yuji suddenly disappears.

Your parents don’t know what to do, cursing themselves for not exchanging numbers with Yuji’s grandfather and their hearts break watching you patiently sit alone on a park bench, refusing to play with or meet anyone else, telling everyone you’re waiting for your best friend. They hope it’s just a one day thing, but one day becomes two, two becomes three, and when Yuji and his grandfather never appear for an entire month, you also stop going to the park, the location only causing you more distress than good.

Fortunately this happens not too long before you enter middle school and your parents sigh in relief when you become too busy acclimating to a new school environment and making new friends to continue crying over the sudden loss of your best friend. Sadness is more fleeting in your youth and they’re grateful for this, warmly welcoming the new friends you bring back home after school to study with.

You never forget Yuji. You don’t think you could ever completely forget the boy who had been your first ever close friend. But he begins to become a distant fond memory, a mystery you think you’ll never solve. You think of him from time to time, especially as you get older and gossip about cute boys in high school, giggling and asking each other how many kids you want when you’re older, who you’re going to marry.

A wistful smile spreads across your face and you remember how sure you had been as a child that Yuji was going to be your husband, confident promises from two children who didn’t know the first thing about marriage and love. You wonder what he looks like now. Is he as happy and easygoing as he used to be? Is he as loud and talkative? Does he have a girlfriend?

You get your answer sooner than you had expected and you freeze in the middle of the busy Tokyo streets when a familiar shock of pink hair enters your line of sight. The boy’s back is turned to you and you tell yourself you’re being overdramatic. It’s Tokyo. People dye their hair all types of colors now. So what if someone else has pink hair?

But your heart tells you differently. It’s been over a decade since you’ve seen that little boy, but you swear it’s the same exact shade of pink you remember grabbing in your tiny hands back then. And before rationality can catch up to your soul, your body is already moving, drawing closer and closer to that broad back.

“Yuji?”

The name comes out softer than you intended and you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s turning and your throat begins to choke as a pair of familiar light brown eyes lock with yours. There are millions of people in Tokyo, hundreds swarming around the two of you as they make their way to the next destination. But at this moment, it’s only the two of you and before you know it he’s rushing towards you and you gasp at the feeling of a calloused thumb gently brushing your face.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

You don’t even realize the tears streaming down your face that Yuji is desperately trying to wipe away. Oh, that’s why he looks so blurry right now and you give him a happy watery smile before flinging your arms around him, soul at peace when you feel him return the embrace.

He’s so different from the young boy you knew. Taller, bigger, stronger. And yet, despite the many years that have passed, you can’t help but feel like not much has really changed at all. It feels completely natural for him to lace his fingers with yours like he used to and you let him lead you to a nearby cafe where he prattles on and on about what he’s been up to since you last saw him.

It feels surreal, like a rose tinted dream, and you tightly clutch at his hand even when you’re seated across from each other, afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear and you’ll wake up all alone again. Turns out he’s just as talkative as he used to be and you find comfort in the familiarity of his tone despite the fact that his voice is a few decibels lower.

His grandfather suddenly got so sick that they needed to send him to a hospital and with no other adults to take care of Yuji, he couldn’t go to the park and tell you what had happened. You only cry harder when Yuji becomes teary eyed himself when he tells you how he went to the park almost everyday when he was old enough to go himself in middle school, hoping to find you so he could explain what had happened all those years ago. And Yuji joins your watery breakdown when you tell him how you waited a month for him (eternity for a young child), how you sat alone and never played with anyone else because you were always hoping that he’d show up again.

When your drinks and food arrive, you sniffle and laugh, drying your eyes, one hand each still firmy locked in each other’s grasp on the table.

“No more crying. We’re going to make up for lost time.”

Your parents are stunned when you bring Yuji back home with you that day and there’s more crying when they find out what had happened and of Yuji’s grandfather’s death. But they’re quick to welcome back the boy in their little family and Yuji becomes a common sight in your household and at your dining table, joining your families for meals and birthdays, studying with you, watching anime and playing video games late into the night, helping your mom with cooking and your dad with chores around the house. And the confirmation that he’s part of the family is only solidified when your parents tell you that all four of you will be going to visit Yuji’s grandfather’s grave together to pay your respects.

There’s not a single dry eye as you all picnic and sit in front of the tombstone and Yuji gratefully accepts the forehead kisses and hugs your parents shower him with, never once letting your hand go as you chat to Itadori-san’s spirit. You give your parents some alone time, letting them talk at length to the old man they had grown so close to while Yuji and you had played.

The two of you reminisce on those carefree days, teasing each other about who can build a bigger sandcastle now. You giggle and ask him if he remembers promising to marry you, joking about how silly and innocent the two of you were then. And you turn to Yuji, expecting to see him laughing with you, but there’s not a hint of humor on his face as he resolutely stares at you, light brown eyes concentrated as they gaze at you.

“I still want to marry you.”

You gape at him, waiting for him to break character, laugh and make fun of your dumbfounded expression. But it never comes and instead he tentatively grabs your hands, holding them in his, thumbs brushing soothingly over your trembling knuckles.

You’ve never seen Yuji nervous before. You don’t think you even thought it was possible for him to be afraid of anything. But standing in front of you, light brown eyes uncharacteristically flitting about as he tries to find adequate words, he looks so vulnerable, so sincere, so genuine. And you wait with bated breath, hope fluttering in your chest.

“I like you, like really like you. I know I said that when we were kids, but it’s still true, just like it was true back then. We lost a decade together and I know we’re still making up for that lost time, but I can’t help but feel like what we have hasn’t changed a bit. If anything I like you even more now…”

He trails off and your chest feels like it’s about to burst in fondness when you watch him trail off, uncertainty and embarrassment obvious in the way he shifts from foot to foot, a pink flush gracing his cheeks.

“I like you too, Yuji. Like...really like you.”

You giggle at the pout he gives you at the teasing tone of your voice as you use his words against him. But then it’s your turn to shift your weight from side to side as you also try to wrap your tongue around the feelings Yuji’s stirred inside of you since your reunion.

“I think I know exactly what you mean. We aren’t little kids who only run around and play in sandboxes and playgrounds anymore. There’s a giant gap between then and now that we’re trying to bridge. But I feel like reuniting at this age and seeing how well and easily we connect even now only makes me like you even more. It’s like our souls have grown together in a way despite the distance, like we were always destined to be joined at the hips.”

You stifle a chuckle at the way Yuji perks up, looking all the world like an eager puppy who’s spotted their precious owner, anxious energy surrounding him as he waits on your next words.

“So I guess what I’m saying is TBD on marriage, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to try dating.”

Your sentence isn’t even fully complete before you watch in mortification and giddiness at how quickly Yuji drops to one knee, the picture perfect of a man about to propose (if it weren’t for both your high school uniforms making it very obvious that this isn’t a typical marriage proposal).

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

There’s only one answer and you simply utter a “yes” that turns into a squeal as Yuji practically lunges at you, sweeping you in his arms and twirling you around.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤

Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation

Summary: No one can choose their family.

If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-

Incident.

Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.

“Hi mom.”

“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”

“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”

“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”

“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”

You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.

“You could’ve said no.”

“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.

“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”

“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”

“Oh yeah, tragedy.”

“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.

You did not want to see him.

You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.

A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.

Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.

Unfortunately.

Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.

“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.

There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.

If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.

“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.

Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.

You shook your head, trying to focus.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”

You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”

“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”

The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.

“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”

“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”

“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.

“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”

“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.

“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.

“What?”

“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”

“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”

“Doctor.”

You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,

“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”

“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”

He tilted his head, “What’s that?”

“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”

He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”

“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”

“How about smell?”

“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”

“The food?”

“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.

He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.

But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Well played, professor.”

This time, he didn’t correct you,

“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”

“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.

His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”

Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.

He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.

“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”

You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.

“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”

“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.

“My petal-“

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”

That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.

“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”

You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”

“I have my sources too.”

“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”

“Why did you break up?”

“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”

You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.

“Why did you break up?”

“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.

“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“

“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”  

“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”

“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”

The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.

“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”

You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.

“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”

“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.

“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”

Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.

“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”

The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.

“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”

You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.

But what you really needed was to get out of there.

“Y/N?”

“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.

As if that could help you escape him.

Chapter 2

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