#I’m so so so tired and sad and upset and guilty for everything I’m feeling

[sleepdeprivationandcoffee]

If any of you plan on having kids, please for your sake please have a good support system. I mean people who will take kiddo for a few hours so you can sleep/clean/relax without stressing, people who will help with chores and help pick up the slack when you start feeling worn thin, and people who will encourage and remind you that you’re doing great. It’s so so so hard when you can’t get the help you need.

Future parents, please do this for yourself. Please ask for help and build yourself a safety net of people you trust to care for you like you would care for them.

[pixlmonkeys]

with no exaggeration being hyper empathetic is one of the worst things to happen to me

[lizzy019]

𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝓁?

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Plus-size Fem!Reader

cw -> insecurities, tough-love, oral (sixty nine), but a sweet ending :)

Word Count -> 1.4K

As a plus-size girlie, I genuinely wish I could get this, but no man likes a girl with stomach fat and it’s KILLING MEEE

This blasted mirror, you thought to yourself.

Hands scooping up your protruding apron belly with a sad expression, you look at yourself disapprovingly in the mirror as tears well up in your eyes.

Ugly, ugly, ugly! Your mind chanted in disregard of your mental health.

You didn’t care if people said, “Oh, but you have boobs!” or “Oh, but you have a full ass!” It wasn't about that anymore, you just wanted to feel pretty again. Like that young teenager who had no care for their looks, just getting good grades in school to finally have that dream job.

Now your job has you cooped up in your home all day, stress eating until you feel guilty and crying about it. It was pathetic.

You were pathetic.

Sniffles escaped you as you hid yourself in the baggiest clothing you had, frowning when you could still see the fat in your arms and the face fat that made you look old.

A knock at the apartment’s front door had you quickly wiping your tears in a hurry, trying to fix your breaths as you exited your room to go see who it was.

Opening the door to the apartment, you’re met with the familiar white skull mask and stocky body that you’d swooned over the first time you saw him.

“Simon!” You smiled, gently hugging him and allowing him inside. After months, he was safe and back home.

“Hey, luv. You gained weight?” He responded, dropping his duffel bag and eyeing you closely.

You winced at those words.

“Are you high or somethin’? Why’re your eyes all red and puffy?” He asked.

This had you freeze up, giving a nervous chuckle as you played with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“No no, I’m not high, I promise. Just tired.” You lied as smooth as you could, gesturing to the kitchen for him to go and get food.

Even if Ghost could tell you were lying from the way your body language was all closed off, he didn’t wanna dig and hurt you. So he just trudged to the kitchen for food and let you be.

The rest of your evening was spent in the bathroom, eyeing the laxatives you bought to thin yourself out with skepticism. While you wanted to take them, you didn’t know how they’d make your system react.

A waste of money, you thought to yourself.

But working out was a waste of time when bills had to be paid and the house needed cleaning, or family needed help, or groceries had to be done.

It was all too much, and you found yourself silently beginning to sob again.

Hands holding the disgusting fat at your abdomen, you curled up on the tiled floors and weeped. How could Simon deal with you? How could he want to be proud of you? Was he lying? Pitying you?

Ghost could hear the sounds from the living room, but he paid no mind to it. You never handled crying in front of others well anyway.

11:30 at night, Simon stripped bare in front of you as you hesitated strongly to take off your own clothing.

You felt bad for so many reasons, the two most severe ones being that you were scared he’d judge you and make cruel jokes about the pounds you’d gained, but also not taking your clothes off and making him upset or frustrated.

Ghost’s hands didn’t even let you choose, your shirt came off within a few seconds and so did your pants and panties.

Mortification crossed you instantly, and you wished you could run back into the bathroom, lock yourself away and rot. It’s the only thing you could do better than stuffing your face full of food.

Ghost got into position, and you felt awful when he got on top of you instead of you usually getting on top of him.

Flimsy cock at your mouth, you gently put it into your lips and began to work on what he’d pleaded for upon return. His own mouth attached itself to your core, but you weren’t wet. You couldn't focus on enjoying the pleasure when everything else was pulling you away from it.

Regardless, everything kept going, even your mortification which refused to leave. You were just too self-conscious, too fearful of his true reaction and anxiety creeping up because he hasn't said anything about it yet.

Once Ghost was good and hard, he moved once again into a missionary position and grabbed some lube and a condom, rolling the latex on first before lubing up your entrance. His tip pressed your core before a sharp thrust was executed.

Only a soft whimper exited you from it, and this really gave Ghost the sign that something was up.

“Luv, what the fuck is up with you t’day? You’re actin’ all reticent and timid for no goddamn reason. Or is there a reason that you’re just not informin’ me of?” He asked harshly, his expression not visible through the dark fabric covering his face.

His question made you think hard. Should you tell him? Would he laugh at you? Simon wasn't exactly an understanding person, and he never comforted anyone properly. With a shaky sigh, you shrugged.

“You said it yourself earlier, I gained weight. I tried not to, but I don’t have time anymore to be physically active asides small walks, it’s pissing me off and I understand if you think it’s not as attractive anymore-”

“Who the fuck told you that I said somethin’ as stupid and jacked up as that? Holy shit, is that all you were pissin’ yourself over? A few extra pounds?” He almost raised his voice, almost.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and winced a bit.

He sighed heavily, his hands coming to pin down your wrists as he gently kissed your cheek. You were confused, what was happening here?

“Luv, you don’t gotta worry about my preference on your body. You’re you, you took me in and loved me in a way no one else chose to, I’m not in it for your body, I’m in it for you.”

This made your eyes water out joyful tears, this wasn’t something you heard on a regular basis, much less from someone who was way out of your league.

You gave a soft nod, and this made him fully begin to thrust into your core. That was what made you erupt in little moans, you just needed to be properly consoled.

Simon however, was going absolutely feral for the little jiggle in your tummy, the bouncing of your breasts, and the way your thighs happily squished against the mattress’ fabric.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl. Takin’ it so well, you like it? You like how my cock’s stretching this tight lil’ cunt open? Yeah, yeah you do.” He smiled softly under his mask, lightly degrading you with praise built in as he answered for you.

You were too blissed out to have even heard it.

A climax was nearing, and he moved himself into a mating press to violently assault your dripping cunt while pinning your soft body down against his.

“Simon! Gonna cum..!” You mewled out, hands clasping his shoulders before you finally spasmed and seized just to release all over his hard length.

This alone had him gasping for air, his thrusts heavy and desperate as he kissed all down your neck, sucking the skin to make hickies, before he couldn't continue it anymore.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming- shit!” He moaned out, ceasing all movements to fully release into the condom.

Huffs were the only thing you two heard for a good few moments, taking off his mask in totality to show his full submission to your trust.

Those pretty brown eyes and blonde lashes, lovely scarred cheeks and little amount of blonde stubble on his jaw and chin. Chapped lips and pinky nose. He was handsome, you felt like he could get any woman if he tried.

“Stupid British.” You teased, kissing his lips innocently before you two moved to get under the blankets to rest.

Ghost’s hands came to rub the pudge of your stomach, eyes soft as he looked at it with adoration.

“You’re like a cinnamon roll.” He murmured.

“Cinnamon roll?!” You exclaimed, laughing and kissing his cheek. “You goof.”

Ghost chuckled dryly, kissing your forehead before pulling the blanket to cover your shoulders to stay warm.

“Sleep well, cinnabon.”

[neos127]

WHY HER? — SIM JAEYUN (chapter fifteen)

pairing. idol!jake x fem!fan!reader synopsis. in the most cliche way, jake falls for a fan of his. y/n just has to decide if she’s able to handle being apart of his life. notes. super angsty…sorryyyy

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked, sitting down next to Y/N. It had been a couple weeks since the album in incident and Y/N’s eye had healed well. Unfortunately during a recent concert of Enhypen’s, Y/N had someone spit on her shoes. It angered her sure, but the tip of the iceberg was the trucks sent by engenes, encouraging a breakup between Y/N and Jake. The girl had passed by them the other day and had never felt so humiliated in her life.

Or maybe the last last straw was someone ‘accidentally’ bumping into her at a cafe and spilling an iced americano all over her outfit. Y/N wanted to believe that it wasn’t intentional, but the soft giggles from the girls and the enhypen photo cards dangling from their bags said otherwise.

Y/N hated to give up, she never wanted to admit defeat. Jake was hers and she was his, it shouldn’t matter what anyone thought. But her dignity was slowly being destroyed and constantly looking over her shoulder became tiring. She just needed to focus on school and not on the possibility of being injured worse than an album to the face.

“Better.” Y/N mumbled, not being able to meet Jake’s gaze. She hated the words that were about to leave her mouth, but maybe it was for the best. Or maybe she should’ve slept on it more, going over the pros and cons in her head. But Y/N wasn’t thinking straight and she was extremely stressed out. Her judgement was a bit clouded.

“I think we should take a break.” She whispered, finally looking up at Jake. The silence was deafening and the way Jake’s expression dropped made Y/N wince. The girl sighed, already feeling tears come to her eyes. She had been dreading this conversation.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jake asked, his voice cracking. Y/N held back a sob, allowing tears to fall down her face.

“No…no you didn’t and that’s what sucks about this. Jake, you’re an amazing boyfriend, really really amazing. You’ve done everything for me and more so it’s not about you.” Y/N explained, turning to face him once more. That was a mistake since the look on his face only made the lump in her throat grow more. Y/N had never seen Jake this upset before, and of course she had to be the one to cause his pain.

“Then what is it about? We can fix this, there has to be some kind of solution.” Jake replied, grabbing Y/N’s hands with his. She let out a shaky sigh, a sad smile on her face.

“But there isn’t one, Jake. You’re too popular, engenes love you but they don’t love you with me. I’m being humiliated and dumped on by these people, and I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” Y/N said, watching as the boy sighed and anxiously ran his hands through his hair. Jake had always felt guilty about what Y/N went through to be with him and suddenly wished he had talked to her earlier. Had he been neglecting her mental health? Was he really as good of a boyfriend as she said?

“I’m sorry that this is happening to you, you know how shitty I feel. But they won’t do this forever. They’ll back down when they realize that you’re here to stay.” Jake was practically begging her now, already feeling Y/N slipping away from him. He felt nothing but panic in the moment, trying to say all the right things so she wouldn’t walk out of his life.

“Back down? In what, a few years? Jake, I don’t know if this is worth it!” Y/N exclaimed with frustration. Jake stilled at her words, looking at her with teary eyes. The boy didn’t want to cry in front of Y/N, but he wasn’t sure if he could hold back his emotions anymore.

“So I’m not worth it? What, did you think this was going to be easy? You knew what you were getting into Y/N how could you do this do me now?” Jake raised his voice, tears spilling into his face. Y/N rubbed her hands over her eyes, already feeling overwhelmed by the conversation.

“No…that’s not what I mean. It’s just…it’s really hard for me to have a nice relationship with you when these crazy fans exist.”

“So ignore them! They don’t matter to us!”

“Jake, you’re not listening to me—”

“Y/N I love you.” Jake interrupted. And suddenly as if Y/N’s tears were held back by a dam, it finally broke. She wished that their first ‘i love you’ could have been under better circumstances, but of course life had a way of playing cruel games.

“Why would you say that to me? Now? Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N sneered, trying to get her words out in between sobs.

“Because I don’t want my favorite girl to leave me. I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on with my life without you in it. And I mean— I’m so in love with you that it hurts. Like, I can physically feel how much I love you and it can be overwhelming but it’s also the best feeling in the world.” Jake cried while trying to wipe away the stream of tears coming from his eyes. It was hopeless, he felt as miserable as Y/N did.

“Oh my gosh.” Y/N mumbled, head in her hands as she continued to cry. Jake’s confession only made her feel worse, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Why did he have to be the most precious person she had ever met? Why did this have to be so hard?

“Please, Y/N. I love you so much don’t do this to me.” Jake begged, his bottom lip wobbling as sobs threatened to escape from his mouth. Y/N shook her head before standing up from the bed and gathering her things.

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sorry, Yun. I’m so sorry.” Y/N said, ignoring Jake’s desperate pleas and heading straight towards the door. She tried to convince herself that it would be for best, that Jake’s career would thrive better without her. But as she walk down the hallways of the apartment building, she felt as if she left her whole world back in that dorm.

It’s for the best…It’s for the best…

Jake stared at the door, tears silently streamed down his face as he replayed the conversation over and over in his head. She left and that was it. The relationship was over. She was leaving for New York in a month, Jake would probably never see her again.

The boy began to cry even harder, feeling as if his heart had physically broken into tiny pieces. Heeseung and Riki, who had accidentally eavesdropped due to the thin walls, immediately ran to the living room. Heeseung brought the boy into a hug, rubbing his back in a comforting manner. Riki observed the two with a heavy heart, wishing that he didn’t have to see Jake in such a state.

“I’m so sorry, Jake.” Heeseung mumbled, really wishing he hadn’t sent that text in the first place.

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taglist. @junityy @super-amberlynn @jvjsssnaa @dreamiesformula @deepdeancloudspy @syazzzlisa @nnana2 @hkkbrosdienagge @iheartjayke @chappellraon @yelshin @yunville @4xiaojun @ramenoil @desistay @mandoscyare @nikiswifereal27 @mitchii @eternallyhyucks @bgomtori @woninluv @theyluvfrankocean @iilwji @herebyaccident0 @geombyu @vixensss @oldjws @moon4moony @kimsunoops @sainthoma @rosas-in-the-garden @shiikan0iin @skz8love @lycxee

[fantasylandloser]

Three is Love

Pairing: JJ x Kie x fem!reader

Summary: Reader is sad about JJ and Kie being together. JJ and Kie set out to fix it.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, mentions of parental abandoment, poly!jiara

A/N: realized I only didn't like Jiara because I wanted them both, so i created a world I could have both

P.S- Kie is bi

******

JJ chose Kie. Kie chose JJ. It’s okay. That’s okay. It doesn’t really hurt that much, you're just being dramatic. They chose each other over you. That’s fine. They’re still your best friends. It’s fine. It’s okay. 

You monologue to yourself on your way home. Your bike would veer every once in a while due to the tears that would build in your eyes when you strayed away from telling yourself it was all okay. But nothing felt okay, and there was no one for you to talk to because they were the people you would talk to when you felt like this.  

Kie would let you explain your feelings until you were blue in the face because you’d rather hyper analyze your feelings than feel them, and JJ would threaten to kill whoever hurt you and that was all good, and you’d feel better. Now it was them who’d hurt you and you had nowhere to turn.

You understood, it wasn’t their fault, or your fault, or anyone’s fault, but that didn’t really make it hurt any less. You were starting to understand why there was a rule for no pogue on pogue macking because this was truly a mess.

To make it worse, Kie and JJ were pitying you, their eyes going all soft when they realized you were around, and sure dealing with the longing looks and the secret smiles and touches had been a lot, but all of their guilty feelings being forced down your throat as well, was killing you. You try your best to play it cool, telling them you’re fine with it, and they can be and do couple shit around you without it being a big deal, but they are your best friends so they know when you’re lying or stretching the truth. 

But if you were being very honest, seeing it upfront was better than not knowing, and that stupid ass love triangle you were in. At least now you knew you never stood a chance, now you know he was never going to choose you.

But that’s okay. It’s all okay.

*******

The crew was surprised to see you after a week of you blowing them off. Saying things like, ‘I can’t come, I'm picking up a shift.’ or ‘I’m really tired.’ or whatever excuse you could come up with to not be around them. Kie hated it, she wanted to be around you, and she wanted to talk about what happened but you were avoiding her like the plague. Now you were back and trying to act like nothing happened. And she had to admit it, you weren’t doing a bad job of playing it cool, but she was there, she saw the hurt in your eyes and she knew that didn’t go away after one week of not being around them.

“Wait you did, what?” You ask incredulously while listening to Pope’s story. . “I was gone for like a week and I missed everything.” You’d been engaged in the group all day but nothing else. You wouldn’t let yourself get locked into one on one conversations with anybody, it was driving Kie crazy. 

She just wanted to talk to you and fix this forreal. JJ knew you were off too, but he liked your method of not talking about it. He was sure if you just hung around like normal then things would go back to how they were. He knew it would take some time though, and he knew you were hurting. You would barely look at him, and you’ve said all of three sentences to him since you’d been there and usually the two of you would talk the others up a wall together.He didn't know what to do, but he did know he didn’t want you disappearing for a week again. 

“You didn’t have to be gone for a week.” Kie accused, feeling upset that you were acting like you had to not be there. “You could have been with us.” Your face heats up at the fact that she was calling you out in front of everyone, and you look away avoiding eye contact.It’s almost laughable that she cornered you like this, on a boat in the middle of the ocean, in front of everyone. Kie’s favorite way to call out behavior. 

You sipped on one of the stale beer’s John B scored, nodding your head. “True.” You say simply, and Kie hates it. She hates that you won’t argue back with her or basically even engage at all. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be now?” She asks you, and everyone else is completely silent watching it play out. “You’re just not gonna talk to me? To us?” Her voice is soft and you can hear her worry and sadness. You try your best to swallow the lump forming in your throat, avoiding looking at her or anyone else. 

“I just don’t want to argue about it.” You say softly, after a few moments of silence. 

“We could just talk about it. We don’t have to argue, I won’t argue.” It’s a plea and you’re not looking at her but you know she’s about to cry. 

“I-” You stop talking, clearing your throat, and wiping the tears that escaped. “I can’t. Not now, m’sorry.” You murmur quietly, hugging your knees to your chest.

*******

After an awkward ass boat ride home for the rest of the pogues, and you leaving immediately after getting to the chateau. Kie was in full planning mode. 

“Kie I just think we’re gonna make it worse if we go in there.” JJ says looking worried. “I’ve seen that look on her before. Remember when her dad left? She’s not mad at us,  we could fix mad. She’s hurt and I don’t want to hurt her more.” JJ says he'd been weirdly anxious since he’d seen your house, even though he’s been there a million times.

After watching the scene between you and Kie play out on the boat it didn’t feel right to only comfort Kie. You were his best friend too. None of this was the way it was supposed to be. 

“She’s our best friend!” Kiara exclaimed, frustrated with the situation. 

JJ’s quiet for a second before he starts talking, knowing there’s a big chance he could be wrong. “You keep saying that but… we’ve all been pogues for a long time.”” JJ drifts, not sure where he was going with that. “You remember when she started dating Ally, or more specifically her first date with her.”

 Kie looks at him in confusion, but nods. “Yeah what does that have to do with now though.” 

“She took forever getting ready in John B’s bathroom, and we were all outside. And she came out in that yellow dress with the flowers on it and she was all nervous.” JJ grins at the memory. “And I don’t know if you remember but you told her she looked like-”

“The sun kissed her a thousand times.” Kie cut in, suddenly remembering the day more clearly. JJ smiles while taking her hand. “Yeah that… and you were looking at her, the way that I look at her, and how I look at you.” JJ says cautiously, knowing that if he’s wrong he just blew everything up. “Then Ally got there, and she gave her a kiss on the cheek and you looked how I felt… then you left for almost a whole year while they were dating, and we didn’t see you.” JJ sucked in a breath. “And that was bad, for everybody, but especially me, and especially her.”

“What I’m trying to say is, well I don’t love either of you the way you’d love a best friend, and I don’t think you love her that way either.” JJ finished. He was expecting Kie to get mad, to argue with him or something, he knew what he said was true but he knew better than to expect her to be accepting.

Kie is silent, before she pulls away, then she's biting her nails. It's one of her worst habits and she’s been trying to get rid of it for years. “What am I supposed to do?” Kie whispered. “How are we supposed to fix that? If there’s three of us. And no right answer.” JJ’s surprised at her almost immediate acceptance. 

“I think there is a right answer for us. Nobody else will like it though.” JJ smirks, as a knowing look passes on Kie’s face. “My parents are gonna kill me.” Kie says but it doesn’t change the grin on her face, or the hug she pulls JJ into. “I love you Jayge.” 

“I love you too.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around her. 

“P4L?” She asks, holding out her hand. 

“P4L, baby! Now let’s go get our girl!” They’re laughing and letting out whoo’s as they run towards your house.

******

 Their joy is short-lived once they get to the door and realize they don’t actually know what they’re gonna say. Or if you actually want them too. 

When you open the door and see them holding hands, with smiles on their faces. It crushes you and you feel like they’re rubbing it in. 

“Hi” They say in unison, cringing immediately after. 

“Guys I don’t really wanna talk about… whatever, right now.” You say gesturing to them. “We really don’t have to talk about it ever, actually.” You tell them, only for JJ to barge past you, not a fan of being held by a door to the house he’s been in a thousand times. 

“Too bad, we’re here. We’re gonna talk ‘till we’re blue in the face and if you don’t wanna talk back you can just listen.” He says, grabbing a hold of your shoulders and gently steering his way to your room, waving when he passed your mom in the living room. 

“Hi, Mom!” He says with a grin, making your mom smile because she loved JJ and his antics. Well not the ones that put you in danger, but the ones that made you smile more and leave the house and not be so serious all the time. 

“Hey, babies.” She said passively, to both Kie and JJ. 

Kie seemed to have frozen up after just being super determined to fix this. She felt like she was in shock. She liked girls? She loved you? Since when? How many other people know if JJ of all people figured it out. How was she gonna tell her parents? Could she be in a relationship with two people at the same time? Did you even love her that way too? All these questions swarmed her head. 

“JJ, there’s really nothing to talk about-” You start once you’re in your room and your door is closed.

“I like girls, dude.” Kie says unexpectedly. When you look at her shocked by her outburst, she looks surprised to have even said it. 

“What?!” You exclaim in confusion, your face passing to JJ after realizing that they’re in a relationship, but he seemed to know this as well.

“Really smooth, bro.” JJ comments, but there’s a little smile on his face that is confusing you. 

“Kie what’s going on?” You frown, confusion etching your features.

“I like girls!” She exclaims, laughing a little. “A lot of my friendships are starting to make sense. I'm not gonna lie.” She adds. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, you lower your voice in hopes that JJ can’t hear you. “Do you wanna talk to me in private?” 

“You’re shit at whispering.” JJ tells you, making you grimace. “I told her that she likes girls.” He informs you, in a matter of fact tone.

“Right, okay. This isn’t odd at all.” You say to yourself.

“Oh I forgot, sorry we’re on a mission.” Kie said to JJ, before turning back to you. “I do like girls,” She confirms. “I love you though.” You’re confused more than anything now, and she see’s that in your face.

“And JJ loves you too. And I love him, and he loves me. I think you love him too.” She rambles, sending you into a deeper confusion. 

“Do you love me?” Your eyebrows furrow, not understanding her question. You’ve told you loved her a thousand times. 

“Of course I love you, Kie.” But she shakes her head as soon as you say it. 

“No I mean. I love you, deeply. And I feel kind of stupid for not knowing for so long...” You’re dumbfounded for about three seconds before you’re throwing your arms around her, your heart swelling with this new information.

“Of course, I fucking love you.” You repeat, a watery laugh escaping you. You feel her take a deep breath, as she seemed to find relief in your statement. 

“What about me? Do we love JJ, too?” JJ asks in the back, he’s joking but he’s nervous, he did just watch the only two women he’s ever loved get into a relationship, and he’s nervous he’ll be left out. 

You laugh, wiping away a tear, pulling back from Kie, only long enough to pull him into the hug too. “My mom is gonna kill us.” You say after JJ settles into the hug, the three of you holding onto each other tightly. 

[jxfndm]

JEREMIAH FISHER X READER - ANGST/FLUFF

the letter

WARNINGS! - please dni if you are uncomfortable with the following topic(s): mental health

Y/N

The rain trickled down the window, almost in a pattern. The beads of water mesmerized me, pulling me into a deep trance as I stared out my window. The clouds and the grey skies matched my emotions almost perfectly, except I had just stopped crying. Now, it was the earth’s turn to pour, just as I did for the last few minutes.

A knock came at my door softly, following with a voice, "Y/N? Are you in there?"

Jeremiah was always so gentle, he couldn’t help it. The boy couldn’t hurt a bug, much less anyone around him. He was the sunshine boy, Susannah would tell him every chance she had.

I sniffled, still watching the rain come down as I laid in bed, "Yeah, come in."

"Hey, I just- woah, hold on, what’s wrong?" he questioned frantically, as he opened the door to meet my sad and weakened body.

I was still mad at him. Mad at him for not being there for me when I needed him. Instead, he chose to go to Belly, leaving me, his best friend since kindergarten, alone.

"Nothing. What are you doing here?" I coughed out, my gaze focused on the window, racing two drops of rain any chance I got.

He sighed, sitting on the floor next to my bed in front of me, completely locking his eyes on me. He knew why I was upset, and he’s been trying to reach out. I didn’t want to hear any of it.

"Y/N, I’m worried about you. You haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls, and this was my last resort. Seeing you this way hurts me, I just want to talk," he said, grabbing my hand and resting it in his.

The night I called him, 2 days ago, he hadn’t answered. The next morning, he admitted he had seen my text but went to go swim with Belly. It made me realize where I stood, especially after he promised to always be there, especially during my really bad anxiety attacks, even if he could just call me. That night, I was left alone, without my best friend.

Annoyed, I pulled my hand away, wiping some of the stray tears from my cheeks. I took a quick look at his face; it was solemn and tired. It almost made me feel guilty for pulling away, but standing my guard was necessary.

After realizing he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, I sat up on my bed, adjusting my hoodie. I sat on the edge, looking at him. He caught my signal, and finally cleared his throat.

"Y/N, I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I haven’t had a day yet where I don’t feel eaten up by the guilt of not being there for you," he began, looking me in the eyes with every word he said. "I meant what I said, I want to be here with you, with everything you’re going through. You’re my best friend, what I did the other day was stupid of me, you mean so much more to me."

At this point, I didn’t even realize I had started crying again. I hadn’t noticed until Jeremiah got up and bent down right in front of me, wiping my tears away.

Being this close to him felt safe, it felt good. I couldn’t deny that, because being this close to him was all I ever wanted. When he told me about his crush for Belly at the beginning of the summer, I knew I had to squash any hope I initially had.

Now that they were going to Finch together, it made it all so much more real.

He stopped wiping tears away, and just rested his hand upon my cheek. His eyes looked different to me, they were still beautiful and blue, but I couldn’t pin the difference.

"Y/N," he sighed, his eyes trailing to my nose, then my lips, "y-you’re so beautiful."

My breath caught in my throat. He had always told me I was beautiful, but it was never this intimate, it was always a friendly gesture.

Right now, having him so close to me, feeling his breath on my cheek, could make me instantly fall and forget why I was ever mad. But, I remembered how he felt about Belly. Almost instantly, this felt wrong.

I pulled away from how close we were, interrupting us both with a cough.

I sighed, "Jere, I think I just need space, from you."

He looked down at his shoes, before an almost sarcastic smile appeared on his face.

He scoffed, "No offense Y/N, but I’m not gonna do that. Not when I know how you’re feeling."

I gave him a look, rolling my eyes before saying, "You don’t have a clue how I could be feeling right now. You weren’t here."

He took a deep breath, before getting closer again and looking me dead in the eyes.

"Yeah?" he questioned. He licked his lips, beginning to say, "I’d bet you that I fucking do."

I was quiet, focused on what he would say next.

Before I knew it, he had opened his mouth to speak.

"You claim I don’t know, but I do. I know that these past few months have been hell for you because of your tendency to bottle shit up," he started, inching closer to me.

He continued, "You don’t think I pay attention, but if I didn’t, would I know that you play with your fingers when you get anxious? Would I know how you’re really going through it when you put yourself on do not disturb to the entire world, including me?"

He stepped towards me one more time, our faces just an inch or two apart.

Then he said, "Would I fucking know how in love you are with me? Since kindergarten when I drew on your hand? How, right now, when you look at me, all you wanna do is kiss me?"

I was taken aback, I felt like I had blacked out. It almost made me forget about the letter that was scrunched up in my pocket that almost fell out. I tightened my grip on the paper in my hoodie pocket, when Jere’s eyes followed my hand.

He looked back up at me, his eyes now soft and glazed.

"Y/N," he began, his tongue against his cheek, "I know it’s there, and even if I haven’t read it, I can promise you that you are worth all my tears, all my attention, all my saving, and all my fucking love."

I looked at him, tears streaming down my face. Gently, he cupped my cheek, wiping away the tears as they fell.

I choked, feeling guilty again, "B-but Belly-"

He cut me off as he used his free arm to pull me into him, my face just barely separated from his.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t love her, and I don’t ever think I can when you’re in my life and I would never want you to leave. I want you so fucking bad, Y/N. I need you here. I liked Belly, but not anymore and not for awhile. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but I promise to be here for every single thing after." he whispered.

All I could do was watch him as his soft fingers grazed my cheekbone, as his blue eyes studied me like I was the only thing in this room right now.

I managed to get one more sentence out, "Words are nothing Jere, nothing compared to your actions."

He nodded slowly as he watched me. Before I could say another word, his lips passionately connected with mine. Instantly, I kissed back, letting his taste engulf me and my thoughts. I had wished for this since we were kids, hoping I’d be with my best friend forever.

He massaged my hips gently, pressing more into our kiss. For once, I felt seen. His lips were soft and the kiss felt more like a need than a want. The way his fingertips dug into my skin would leave me with an invisible scar that I knew would never fade so long as he was near me. With Jeremiah, I never felt anything less than complete.

Shakily, we both pulled away for a breath. I couldn’t tell how long we were kissing for, but I knew I never wanted it to end.

"I love you, Y/N. Head over heels," he whispered, looking down sadly at my hands. I cupped his face with my hand, causing his gaze to refocus on mine.

"Jere," I started, my breath shaky and incomplete, "You are the one I want. You're what I need."

The corner of his mouth tugged just slightly, as he pulled me in again for another kiss. Kissing back, I let his hands wander around my waist as mine found its way on his chest.

The kiss deepened yet again, our bodies melting against one another. This was where I wanted to be, and I never wanted to leave. a/n - sorry for being kinda inactive lol, school and work have been eating me up badlyyyy

[ziracona]

I finally got the intro to arc 2 done. Hope you have fun with it! As always, Tumblr gets the update first but before the final editing pass--a little glass half full, glass half empty ^.^' Enjoy: [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 22,23, 24, 25, 26, ?)]{Some spoilers for original Grand Order run/through Temple of Time, vaguer situational spoilers for later arcs}

.

.

“Roman?”

“Mmmmmhmmmph,” I groan unhappily, unhappy to have heard anything. I shift a little, trying to stay unconscious, because it’s better in here.

“Sorry, but you gotta wake up sometime soon. We’ve got like 100 people with guns who aren’t super happy about the 200 new people we just dropped on them without guns,” comes a woman’s voice, “You and I can take a real rest when we’re dead. Or when nobody’s looking. Which I wish was right now, but.”

I hear her, unfortunately, and I’m awake enough to know what the words mean, so I sigh, then scrunch up my face and drag my eyes open. I do not expect to find the blurry face of Da Vinci looking right down at me from above.

“…Da Vinci?” I double-check, squinting up at her. Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is.

“Oh wow, you actually woke up,” she says, patting my shoulder sympathetically, “I know you’re beat to hell, but, I’d love it if you cared to confirm what happened.”

“…Where is everyone else?” I ask, blinking and trying to shake off the lingering weight in my head. I feel sort of terrible, and sort of peaceful, somehow at the same time. It’s bizarre. Right. I shouldn’t feel peaceful at all right? Because there’s a lot of people to explain things to, who are upset and worried. And then there’s the whole situation to…to try and fix…

I look back up at Da Vinci, since she hasn’t answered me. My vision is starting to clear, and now that I can see her face, I realize she looks…sad. No, sad and happy. Nostalgic? Homesick? She’s looking at me like I have seen David look at me a few times now, when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like it’s painful, in a way that is deeply good.

I…feel guilty, that I don’t know her. For all I know, she could be lying about knowing me, I guess, and I’m not a naïve person, but, I don’t think she is. And it makes me sorry.

There’s a little crackle in my head then, which I feel an instinct to panic at, because, you know, how could that be a good sound for the inside of a head? But then I hear her thoughts slipping through the space between us:

“I missed this. How can I be so sad? How can I miss him so painfully, while talking to him, face to face? I feel like I’m watching a memory, but, I’m not. Not this time.”

My stomach drops as I realize I’m unintentionally getting her thoughts.

“He looks so like he always did. Tired and cheerful and steady. He was our rock, and I’m not really sure I ever thanked him for that. That wasn’t my job. My job was keeping us alive, and giving him a hard time. But still, someone should have said it. It wasn’t easy. I know, because once he died, I had to be him. Dying the best you can for the people around you, and asking those kids who are like your own by now to live, and live happy, with the weight of the world on their shoulders? Is even worse.”

It ends then as soon as it began, with another crackle in my head like static, and I know I did not make that happen, but I still feel deeply wrong. I know whatever caused it, it wasn’t her either, and it was an intrusion; I wasn’t meant to hear it. I wish I’d been awake enough to think of a way to stop it.

I…I should be thinking about how to play this, or that this is confirmation then, that I am certainly going to die, because that’s important, but then, I’ve known that all along, right? And it’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking: “Wow. After everything, you have someone who misses you this much.” I should feel anything but reassured, but it’s all I feel. Peace. Or…gratefulness. I guess if only one of us two being able to remember it all, in the end, was enough for me then, then only one of us remembering at the start, here, is good enough for me, too.

Okay focus. She’s still staring into space. Maybe you can…

“Da Vinci…?” I ask, deciding to act like nothing just happened and hope she doesn’t know, “Did something happen? You look worried?”

“Not really,” she sighs, refocusing her mask with precision and speed, and putting on a smile while making a grand little shrug, “But you sure left us a situation. You try explaining the shit we just pulled to a room of angry mages sometime, and see how you like it.”

“Did anyone-?!” I ask with sudden fear.

“—Nobody got hurt,” she chides, “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned that? Your staff heard what you said before you passed out. We’ve got a bunch of confused civilians, which aren’t a threat, and a Holy Grail War’s worth of heroic spirits, which are, but are too much of one for them to want to start something. If they wanted to try to shoot us, they’d be doomed. And we have no reason to want to shoot them either. So no one did anything. It’s just been extremely uncomfortable.”

“Where am I?” I ask, blinking at the ceiling above me, and turning my head to try and see the room, and somehow only then realizing I’m using her lap as a pillow. Shit. I try to shoot up immediately, but she snags me and drags me back down. “-H-Hey!”

“Easy!” comes Makeda’s voice, from somewhere.

HUH?

“Hold still if you would? We’re sort of in the middle of something,” she says apologetically, and I see her as she steps into my field of view.

That’s reassuring, I think with intense distrust. “The middle of what?”

“Welllll,” says Da Vinci awkwardly, “Heh heh. Uh.” She gestures to the ground, and I turn my head from my prone position and see intensely complex sigil work on the ground. Makeda is holding a brush and ink, and seems to have been in the middle of adding more.

“What the hell are you two doing?” I reiterate, because this has absolutely cleared nothing up.

“We’re doing a spell,” says Makeda, “A divination. There’s a lot of strange stuff going on—I expect with you too, after the way you passed out. I’m happy to explain all of it, but a lot of it seems to be connected to you, so we’re using you as the focal point. I need you to more or less stay still. You can move your arms, and head, if you want!” she adds like it will cheer me up.

“We uh, thought you’d be unconscious longer,” says Da Vinci apologetically.

“It won’t hurt you,” promises Makeda.

I sigh. I know, I realize as I think it, and wonder why I was so concerned in the first place. I guess it’s that as out of control as all of this is, I want as many fragments of control as I can get, just to hang onto. Okay, Romani. Deep breaths. Calm down, and focus.

“Alright, go ahead. But please, do explain,” I add, unhappily accepting my fate. Couldn’t they have just gotten me a blanket and pillow or something?

Da Vinci sympathetically reaches down and rubs my shoulders absently, which in other circumstances sould be incredibly weird, but given…everything. I just really don’t care. I sigh again and accept it.

At least it feels good, and I feel like I’ve been thrown down a flight of steps.

You could have picked a better bench, though, I think just a little bitterly. I have no idea what conference room we’re in right now, because they all look the same, but the padding is too firm for a nap to be ideal. I’m going to be so sore after this… I guess at least Da Vinci’s contribution might save my neck.

“Well, you passed out, and we got to talking,” says Makeda as she goes back to finishing the edges of her sigil circle, I’m pretty sure massively sugar-coating the situation after I passed out, “And it was very easy to pick up that Chaldea wasn’t on the same timeline as us—that is to say—in the common sense. It’s our metaphysical timeline, obviously, but they seem to be a full two months ahead of the rest of the world.”

“So, for them, three days ago was the turn of the year,” says Da Vinci.

“Right.” I knew that part, and I guess Da Vinci can see it on my face, because she nods.

“I thought so,” says Da Vinci, pleased, “Just to cement a few things, can you confirm what happened when you exited the shadow border?”

Sure. Why not. “I got hit with a second set of memories,” I reply, “Both felt equally real, which was very disorienting, because they contradicted. The influx of that much detailed, emotional, and complex information all at once, overloaded my already very tired brain, and I passed out for…?”

“Two and a half hours,” says Makeda, glancing over.

“-Two and a half hours,” I finish.

“And this new set of memories?” prods Da Vinci.

I shrug the best I can on my back with my head in her lap. “About what I think you already expect. It was of being here, when Chaldea went through the turn of the year. I survived a bombing that took out most of the base, and the betrayal of a staff member. Ritsuka Fujimaru’s brother, Akira, and Mash both survived the bombing miraculously, by being rayshifted out. Our director ended up with them—Olga Marie Animusphere. We—the surviving staff—were able to fix enough equipment to contact them and try to help. They’d been transported to one point of history targeted by Goetia, Fuyuki city, during a holy grail war. A servant who’d lost his master helped them, thankfully—uh—an alter, of our Lancer, Cu Chulainn—oddly. They were able to succeed, and repair the broken point in time, just barely. The traitor to our organization, Lev Lainur, attacked our director, and took her out of commission, indefinitely. Then was killed. It was terrible. They’re just kids, and they went through hell with no preparation. I couldn’t be more proud of what they accomplished, or feel more awful, that they had to do it at all.”

They’re quiet this time, both of them. I guess it was more than they thought I’d say.

Honestly, it still feels so real I could throw up, and like a bad dream. I feel even more guilty over that. I get this…free sense of dissociation, to help me cope, and I didn’t even have to be there to see it first hand. God. The poor kids. Ritsuka too. Ritsuka, Akira, Mash, all the civilians—even our heroic spirits, who are tanks among men have all been put through hell. We need a break. They need a break.

“I’m sorry,” says Da Vinci, stopping her shoulder rub to pat me on the shoulder, “That is about what we’d gathered, though.”

“It’s not your fault,” says my father, popping up from over the back of a nearby chair he’s apparently been sitting in, and I just about jump out of my skin.

“Were you there the whole time?!” I ask.

“Of course,” he says in disbelief, “Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you?” He clicks his tongue at me and crosses his arms over the back of the chair to lean on it. “As I was saying, you did everything the best you could, and it sounds to me like it’s been enough. The Fujimarus were ecstatic to see each other, and he and Mash both had a lot to say about how you got everyone through this.”

I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m too exhausted to consider arguing with my dad right now. I guess I appreciate it either way.

“Where are the kids?” I ask as it occurs to me, and I accidentally start to sit up on impulse, and am very kindly pushed back into place by Da Vinci, “—Sorry.”

“They’re outside,” says Da Vinci, “It’s just Sheba, me, and David in here with you. The kids all wanted in, but we forced them to stay outside—both so we could do the spell, and just in case there was anything you wouldn’t be ready to tell them as soon as you woke up, with whatever was going on. We three already know all your secrets.”

“Thanks…I think,” I say, then double-take, “Wait—you know all my—?!”

“Yes. Obviously,” she replies proudly, “Remember? I knew you later. It’s all old news to me.”

I start to say something, but then I remember what I accidentally heard, and I don’t. She looks at me quizzically.

“…When did we meet, the first time?” I ask instead as something occurs to me.

She smiles a softer smile, pleased. “Oh. A few months from now. –Or, a few days, depending on the memory set.”

Ah. I smile back as it clicks. “You’re the first successful summon, aren’t you?”

“Clever boy,” she replies.

“And you chose to stay and help? And became the…’technical advisor’?” I ask.

She nods. “Most of the building was blown up. Why not give me a title? You were the only staff head left. Although, I guess by now you know that.”

“Yes,” I say, glancing away and fiddling absently with one of my gloves. Even if I wasn’t close to everyone here, and some of them were awful people, it’s so much death. And not everyone deserved it—not by a long, long shot. It’s…

“You really need to start watching your health better.”

I look up in surprise to see David shaking his head at me.

I give him something between a grimace and a smile. “If I had any choice in the matter, believe me.”

“Well, if you won’t do it yourself, I will,” he warns pleasantly.

Terrifying.

“You do remember both sets of memories fully, right?” asks Sheba. She seems to have finished her sigil, because she walks back over and kneels by the bench and holds out a hand for me. I take it, and feel her magical energy fill the room like a wave lapping at the beach: soft, gentle, but unstoppable in sheer mass and power if circumstances change. “We weren’t totally sure that after…”

“-Experiencing a temporal displacement overlap?” suggests Da Vinci.

“-It would be smooth,” continues Sheba, “That’s also part of why we wanted you to get a chance to talk to us first. Everyone out there is hoping you’re ‘their’ Romani, but, you’re ours regardless of what information you retained. We both knew you from before,” adds Sheba, gesturing to Da Vinci and herself with her free hand.

“-And any version of you is my ‘Romani Archaman,’” says David, playful inflection on my new name.

“We just couldn’t get rid of him,” explains Sheba tiredly.

Unsurprising. David is a force. “Well, everyone’s about to be relieved, I guess, because I have all of both,” I confirm. Hadn’t even occurred to me that people would be worried about that, but, of course they would be.

“I’m not surprised, but it’s still a relief to hear,” says Da Vinci, “By all accounts from the Chaldea staff, it’s January, and you’ve been here the whole time. Actually—you are on-camera, vanishing, the second the door to the Border opened. There’s a little ‘flicker’ and the you at your desk is gone. The you at the Border flickers twice, like an electromagnetic spike, and then the video is normal, but you’re a half foot to the left.”

“Fascinating,” I say, not sure exactly what that means, “I’d have thought it would be when we finished the zero sail, not opened the door. I wonder if it’s a temporal delay, or if there’s more weight triggered seeing yourself face to face when it comes to time fluctuation than I’d thought?”

“So, convergence set aside for the moment without enough information to pursue it, what’s the point of divergence?” asks Makeda, something in her tone suggesting this is a much more important question.

“Oh, uhm…” I scrunch up my brow, thinking it over, “…The…day I heard about Ur-Shanabi, I think.”

David looks very interested by this.

“It’s…strange. My memories since the Incineration are very strong in both versions, but…the time at Chaldea leading up to it is…foggy,” I continue, a little disturbed to find this as I go, “…I. I hadn’t noticed, until you asked, but…”

“It’s the same for the others,” says Makeda, “When we heard their accounts, we checked some of the readings from SHEBA-“ She pauses to give me a coy smile in recognition of the device being named for her, and I flush.

God, I used to have so much game. The only thing my second life is giving is anxiety.

“—and saw a lot of distortion. After being quizzed closely, everyone here we’ve been able to talk to, only remembers the time before what I’m assuming is the day a version of you heard about Ur-Shanabi, and the time since December 31st on. They have…ideas, and impressions—generalities—of the rest of the time. But, it’s more like it’s there to sustain the jump in time, than of enough material stability to be truly real.”

“That’s so bizarre,” I say, truly fascinated, and again starting to sit up on instinct so I can truly think. Both women pull me down this time. Right. “Sorry. So, the version of me who summoned you inside Unlimited Blade Works, that timeline, I do have concrete memories of the days since I heard about Ur-Shanabi. Which makes the second set the anomaly, I think.”

“I’m inclined to agree, to a point,” says Makeda.

“To a point?” I ask.

“In the other timeline, the one that’s mostly just since the end of the year, did you not go to Ur-Shanabi, or not hear of it?” asks Da Vinci, ignoring my question.

“I never heard of it,” I say, “Which…should be impossible. It’s not like I heard about it in the other in some passing comment.”

I do not love that. Or that they could guess so on their own. I don’t have a good feeling about this.

“Do you think someone meddled with your memory?” asks Sheba.

“…No,” I say, glancing down at her, “I…think someone meddled with time.”

“Yes,” agrees Da Vinci, “They absolutely did. But we weren’t sure if they did both.”

“Why though?” I ask, “Shit—wait! If Chaldea is past January first, then, we’re no longer somewhere we’re seeing the effects of Goetia’s actions before he’s taken them are we? So-”

“-No, we’re still ahead of schedule,” says Makeda calmingly, giving me a smile.

I can still feel her magical energy pulsing through me and the room slowly, in steady beats, like a heart at rest. It occurs to me to wonder finally what exactly she’s doing.

“That’s what we were able to use your SHEBA observational lens to discover. It’s the first—well, second, after making sure you really were alright—thing that we checked. It’s like this space, just the building, is in its own bubble,” adds Makeda.

“Couldn’t Goetia be in one too?” I ask dubiously.

“No,” says David happily. I look over at him. “She checked,” adds my father smugly, pointing to Makeda.

“Really?” I ask.

She nods gracefully, long hair cascading over her deep brown shoulders. It’s been so long, but I’ve never forgotten how smart or how beautiful she was.

“Thank you, Makeda,” I say softly.

“For you? Of course,” she replies.

“So, you’ve already found him then?” I ask as it occurs to me.

“Uhhhhm,” says Da Vinci, and she teeters a hand in a ‘kind of’ gesture.

Makeda sighs, looking worried. “It keeps…changing.”

“Every time we lock on, the coordinates shift,” says Da Vinci.

“He’s moving?” I ask in surprise.

“No. The coordinates shift as if they’ve always been something else. The log always reads completely changed, all two hours of it, in an instant—as if it’s performed one search function, and gotten the same answer. But what’s on the screen changes about every two seconds—it’s half real, half moving, and half make-believe,” says Makeda.

“That’s not…possible,” I say, thinking quickly. I’m missing something obvious, because I’m exhausted, and I can’t afford to.

“No, it’s not,” agrees Da Vinci, and I look up from where I’m still stuck on her lap, and see her watching me with those fixed, calculating clear eyes. I think about what I shouldn’t have heard her think, and for some insane reason, I feel desperate to live up to my own future reputation.

“…It’s not real yet,” I say. It was a question when I thought it, but it’s a statement as it exits my lips.

“That’s what we think,” agrees Makeda, closing her eyes, and I feel an intense increase in her magical output.

For few seconds, we are all quiet, waiting. I feel her familiar circuits where her hands hold mine, and I feel a sudden pause in the heartbeat-like pulse of her magical energy.

It’s like time has stopped.

The energy holds, but she opens her eyes, which glow like a breathing galaxy.

“I’ve got it,” she says in an inhuman voice, and then the tide of her energy ebbs back into her, soft and controlled like it filled the room, and she releases my hand.

“What’s the news?” asks Da Vinci excitedly, seeming to forget she’s holding my head, and bending over so far towards Makeda that her stomach is smashing me.

“Can I get up now?” comes my muffled voice.

“Yes,” says Makeda apologetically.

Da Vinci sits back and I drag myself up, still and sore, and lean against the bench seatback, rubbing my face, and trying to get sensation back in my limbs. Makeda climbs up beside us, on my other side, and, apparently feeling left out, David drags his chair closer, then climbs back in.

“We were right,” says Makeda, to both Da Vinci and me, “It’s a spell.”

“A…” That is cosmically not what I thought was going on, or said. I—I guess she means about Goetia’s location not being real yet.

“A spell…” says Da Vinci, who I personally think from her expression, also did not actually think that’s what was going on.

Weirdly, I look at David, and he, alone, seems unsurprised. What do you know, old man…

“Can you elaborate?” I ask.

“Well,” says Makeda, “We’re not a singularity, and we’re not a lostbelt.” A what? “We’re built a little like one or the other though. Or a wish.”

“Like a grail?” suggests Da Vinci rather dubiously.

“Only in vague concept,” says Makeda, then, reconsidering, “…But, in vague concept, not a bad analogy. The ways in which we are similar to a singularity or lostbelt is in nature—partially complete and partially real, still growing—not in function. Functionally, more like a grail. The same way holy grail rituals have set rules and functions, so do most rituals and big magic. And this is certainly a function of intricate structure.” She suddenly looks embarrassed to be explaining this, to me, I assume because of my rank.

“So, the timeline we’re on has been altered. In a very significant way, from its original. It’s not a naturally occurring alternate timeline, but an intentionally constructed one,” I say, then pause, to consider. “…Any guess as to by who?”

She looks at me for a long few seconds, and then says, “No,” but I can’t help but feel there’s more to it than that.

“Okay,” I say, not pressing her for the moment, and moving on to the question I don’t want to ask, but know I have to, “…Can you tell if this…aberration, is it dangerous, like a singularity? Is it…are we hurting the world, by existing?”

Makeda shakes her head.

Oh thank God.

“Whatever we are, we’re not convergent, or concurrent,” adds Makeda, “Even if we’re not an alternate timeline in the natural sense, whatever bubble we are, it’s its own in the same way one would be. It’s magic, but, it’s magic not growing or building in opposition to, well, anything. It’s…disconnected. In ways that are zero sum.”

“Alright,” I say, feeling a few worlds better, “Then. …Whoever, and whyever they started whatever this…spell is, if it’s still in construction—if the magic is still in process—that probably means we either need to dismantle it, which, if it’s not dangerous, I’d very much prefer not to do, since in this timeline we could save a whole lot of lives by reaching Goetia before he acts, and uh, well, I have to assume this version of all of us would probably die—or, we’ve got to finish it—the spell, I mean—get it to cement—so it doesn’t deviate, or unravel.”

“Exactly,” agrees Makeda, “I think that’s where we should start.”

“Great! A plan,” says David happily, “So, how much are we telling the others?”

I hold up a hand. “Before that—you said this is some sort of spell. You mean magic—not magecraft, but magic. Like, First Magic.”

“I do,” says Makeda, “It’s the only class of magic that could do something like this.”

“What do we know,” I ask, ‘we’ meaning ‘her’.

Makeda sighs and places her chin in her hand, bouncing a leg absently as she thinks it over. “This?” she decides after a moment, glancing over at the rest of us, “Doesn’t leave this room. Not until we’re sure it should.”

I nod, and see Da Vinci move in my periphery.

“Alright,” says Makeda, and she opens the little lamp she carries, and smoke billows out, forming distinct shapes in the air as she sways her fingers through it, like the shadow puppet show of a master.

“Da Vinci and I have matching knowledge of another timeline. That alone isn’t odd. But in it, we know of events and people spanning from before the Age of Gods,” A sprawling mountain and a cloud city appear, floating islands of smoke, desert kingdoms, "to the distant future.” Building shapes from countries around the globe and centuries apart, fell into a timeline. Frontiers, temples, castles, modern skyscrapers, and past them, massive space ships. “We, should be here.” She indicates a modern urban skyline in her set of smoke-made history. “And we are. Ritsuka should be, and she is. Akira wasn’t at Chaldea, but him being here isn’t really odd. You’re mostly where you should be. But some people, are missing.”

Here, she makes a handful of figures out of the curling whisps, and then passes her fingers through them and watches them go.

“What’s more,” she continues, “A lot more, is that there are a considerable amount of people who shouldn’t be in this time, who are.”

Makeda raises a hand to her lips and exhales like she is blowing a kiss. Smoke forms humanoid figures along far separated points on the timeline, and they lift from those places by floating cities and icy mountains and desert sands, and settle into the urban skyline.

“Actually, they shouldn’t be at all,” she says, eyes on something far away, no changes in her smoke story this time, “At least many of them, should never have existed. Yet, here they are.” She looks at me. “And not transported, and confused. Here they are like they’ve always been, with normal memories and normal lives, somehow, in spite of everything, alive.”

“People who should never be?” I ask, a sinking feeling in my chest.

“It will take a little while to explain to you fully, but for now, people who lived in versions of time that only existed at all by destroying the time around them, and whose broken time had to be corrected, that is, erased,” says Makeda softly.

I nod, and keep quiet. I can imagine, since I’d been a little afraid after waking up with two sets of memories, that I could be a version of me that shouldn’t exist.

“Our reality, it’s real,” says Makeda, refocusing, “But instead of starting at the beginning of time and moving forward, as time is meant to, it starts here.” She indicates a point not long before what she’s designated as ‘now.’ “And it grows forwards and backwards from there. No, grows isn’t the right word. It…’becomes set.’ Like a writer starting a book in the middle: the beginning happened, because otherwise the characters wouldn’t be who they are, or have memories of their upbringing, or loved ones they share a past with. But it’s not stable, until it’s on paper, because once the writer forgets, there will be nothing to hold it all in place.”

A terrifying metaphor, I think, but I don’t say it.

“Whatever, or whoever, caused this,” says Makeda, “it hasn’t stopped working. But it’s magic still in progress. At a guess, something has to be…done, or ‘finished’—fulfilled—for the ritual to be complete, and the timeline to stay. If it doesn’t, it’ll collapse back in on itself, and…”

“…And we all cease to exist,” I say shakily.

“Well,” she offers me a sympathetic smile, “This version of us.”

That’s great for the heroic spirits, I guess, but it really sucks for the rest of us. God, especially the ones she says ‘shouldn’t exist’ at all anymore. It’s…a heavy fate, that. Not to be taken lightly…

“And this point?” I ask, tapping the little swirl of smoke she’s left to indicate the start point. The smoke is surprisingly warm to the touch, and almost thick enough to feel soft to me.

Makeda watches me with her bright eyes full of their knowledge and sight. “You, Solomon.”

I am so taken aback I don’t know what to say.

“Me?” I check after a full ten, very suddenly awkward seconds.

“Don’t you mean ‘Romani’?” asks David, whom I’d completely forgotten was even in the room with us, and it makes me jump.

To my surprise though, when I look over, he’s not joking. He’s being pointed about the name.

“What,” he says, looking from one of us to the other, “That’s about when you would have been ‘reborn’ into a last life, right?”

He points and I look at the timeline again, and my breath catches in my throat.

“How many terrible things did I cause?” Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Not terrible,” says Da Vinci, patting my shoulder with one of her gloved hands, “So long as we can keep this thing going, it’s good.”

“Very, I would say,” agrees Makeda, and again, I see in her face that there’s something she knows she’s not telling me, and I’m sure she has her reasons, but it distresses me a lot not to know. This is beyond high stakes universe poker. This is all or nothing, eleventh hour Russian roulette shit.

“That’s not all,” adds Da Vinci, stretching, and looking very gleeful to have her own lore to share, “I ran some tests when you were out because something about Ur-Shanabi has been bothering me ever since the others told me about it.”

“And?” says David with interest.

“And,” says Da Vinci, looking annoyed to be interrupted, “There’s been a change in the world state. You know how in a holy grail war, the ritual is designed so when a heroic spirit dies, their energy is used to fill the grail—to power it, more or less.”

We give our various forms of assent.

“Well, it struck me really odd the Counter Force would let something like that go on so long without proper recourse, and it wasn’t apparently even Alaya that finally sent in the Counter Force Agent we’ve got—Ritsuka summoned him. But, when something like a grail war is on, the Counter Force tends to be less active. Rituals bring their own, shitty ass rules, and tend to be allowed more—some might even say inadvisable –catastrophic damage.”

“Yes,” agrees Makeda, “It’s about the way magic works. Even the universe itself, is bound by rules. That’s why the Counter Force has to use agents in the first place. Even power has limitations.”

“So, I looked into it,” continues Da Vinci, “And the way this thing works, the whole world is…sort of designed to soak power up, from everything, but especially from people.”

“That’s horrible,” I say, disturbed.

“Not really,” she disagrees, leaning forward and gesturing broadly, “See, it’s not like a leech. It’s designed to soak power out of people only when they’re trying to give power—like—it’s in a hyper-high-performance catalyst state. But it’s not forcing anything—people aren’t all slowly taking magic-radiation-damage or something. It’s just wildly amplifying and accelerating physics around energy and its transfer, when it comes to magic specifically. Heroic Spirits, though, we’re made of magical energy. And with the rules around magical energy, and the transformation and transfer of it altered—altered to make the change in form easier, not just when it’s offered from or created by humans, but in all forms. Well. ...”

“The physical structure of anything made of magical energy entirely has become a vulnerability,” I say, mental calculations locking into place, “The same way Achilles’ heel would be, or Samson’s hair.”

“Exactly,” says Da Vinci, way too happy about this.

“Well that’s genuinely terrifying,” I say.

She shrugs, a grin on her face. “At least we know what we’re up against. Half the battle.”

“I suppose so,” I agree a little uncertainly.

“Anyway, the other half of the issue may be that we’re not the only ones to have figured that out,” adds Da Vinci.

“Meaning who?” I ask, “I mean—obviously if Ur-Shanabi had it working, it was only a matter of time before someone else did too, but. The world is currently…well, incinerated. It seems like one problem takes care of the other, in the temporary anyway.”

“Well, you know how when she described what was happening with Goetia, you said ‘it’s not real yet’?” asks Da Vinci.

Makeda raises a hand and gestures to her smoke tapestry, and it begins to curl and dissipate, leaving a few floating ‘islands’ almost, as it were, along what was once a solid timeline. “Goetia’s attacks, when they come for real, target specific points in history, to de-stabilize and collapse the timeline. We know where, from our own memories, and the data we’ve been able to run with the effects already in place here. But the thing is…”

Slowly, almost delicately, Maketa weaves her fingers into the smoke, and then tugs like the is pulling it apart, and the image shifts from a 2D image, to a three-dimensional timeline, pieces splitting away in different direction. Of these, a select few’s smoke begins to shift into shades of pink, and I am sure this must be the ones Goetia has picked, because I recognized the 2004 Fuyuki a version of me has just vicariously experienced as one of them. Other pieces stay their original, almost purple shade of grey, and then a few more begin to turn a cyan blue. These, as Makeda makes a circular motion with her index finger, begin to rotate.

“They aren’t the only points reading as anomalies,” said Makeda, turning to look at me, “Da Vinci is till collecting data, and we expect it to take a while, but…”

“What we know for sure, is the Counter Force is—or at least was—active in all of them,” says Da Vinci, “But as far as we can tell, Goetia wasn’t.”

I look at the blue points on the map unhappily, and let out an exhale. “And…these all activated in the years between now, and 1985.”

Da Vinci gives me a sympathetic grimace.

“Well, think of it this way!” suggests David, “That certainly limits the damage, and narrows down the search area. Besides.”

He tries to reach way forward and tap Makeda’s smoke diagram, and his hand goes right through it, dissipating an image.

“Since what Ur-Shanabi did was considered ‘breakthrough research,’” he continues, totally nonplussed, “I would bet a lot of money that the points before the last couple years won’t have deeply significant change. If they had, someone in the mage world would have heard about it.”

Da Vinci and Makeda both look annoyed by this, but Da Vinci mutters, “…He’s probably right,” rather unhappily, and my father grins.

“See?” says David, reaching too far forward to try and pat me on the shoulder, and just having to latch onto it instead to not fall off the chair, “All good.”

“Well, that part is an overstatement, but, he’s right it’s not an immediate threat,” says Makeda, miffed, and she waves her hands and the smoke curls back inside the lamp she wears at her belt. “In the meantime, you should go talk to your staff and the others and let them know you’re alright.”

“Yeah,” agrees Da Vinci happily, swinging her feet in anticipation while she watches David very awkwardly make it back upright in his chair, “I’ll keep running calculations and try to get some kind of gameplan together. But we need more data before doing anything concrete.”

“I’ll help,” I say, honestly just relieved to have a little breathing room.

“You will NOT,” says my father sharply, “Not until you get some proper sleep! Look at you!” He gestures broadly with both arms. “You’re a wreck! You’ve been up for three days straight, and went comatose from memory bombardment for almost two hours! You’re exhausted! You transplanted a magic crest, onto yourself, then summoned two heroic spirits inside a reality marble, and stayed up for another forty hours!”

“I, uh,” I try awkwardly, taken aback.

David crosses his arms and eyes me. “You and Ritsuka are both going to take a rest. You act like you forget, son, but you’re only human now. The last thing anybody needs is you to work yourself to death. Or past usefulness.”

I wish he didn’t have a point, but I feel like death warmed over. Still… “I should be able to help though, and it’s-“

I was going to say ‘my fault in the first place,’ but all three turn to look at me as one with such a united front of deeply terrifying energy, like a pack of guard dogs just itching for the command sick ‘em to come,that I don’t.

“…I think David is right,” says Da Vinci, recovering her mask of pleasantness first, and smiling at me with her eyes shut. She pats me on the shoulder. “You can come help in the morning.”

“…Yes,” says Makeda simply, but the way she says it has an undercurrent of chilling.

I’m not getting out of this… “Alright, alright,” I say as I feel the pressure in the room begin to grow tense again, and I put my hands up, “I’ll rest. But, I do need to talk to staff first, at least a little, to explain things—and the kids.” God, poor Mash. She is so inclined to worry, too.

“That’s fine!” says Da Vinci, her same eyes-shut smile still on, “Just don’t stall too long.”

“Yes,” agrees David, hopping out of his chair and offering me a hand, “Let’s do that.”

I let him help me up, but the second he lets go, I almost lose my balance, with my legs so completely asleep, and me so dead-tired. The instant I do, David, Makeda, and Da Vinci all make a move at the same time to help me, and I can’t help but laugh, a deep, full body laugh, as I catch myself and then straighten up on my own, feeling a lot better now.

“It’s so funny,” I say, glancing from one to the other with a smile, “I’ve been the most isolated I think I’ve been my entire existence, for months, and now that things have really fallen apart, I’m surrounded.”

Da Vinci smiles back. “Good.”

I nod. “Good indeed.”

As I wait for my painfully asleep legs to get some feeling back in them, I survey the room for real for the first time. “Where are we right now, anyway? Which conference room is this?”

“It’s the one closest to the command room,” says Da Vinci.

I nod. Finally getting a little painful feeling back, I take a few steps towards the door, testing my balance. Ow.

As we begin to walk, my whole little horde of tag-alongs staying suspiciously within ‘he might fall again’ distance, David says, “Question, Miss Da Vinci. You seemed to know Ritsuka, from Chaldea, but it’s her brother here who’s done this Rayshift, which should be how you meet, or met her, in the future. And then you said it was odd for him to be the one in the Fuyuki singularity, but not very odd. So, was it both of them who helped you, originally?”

“No,” says Da Vinci, seeming surprised—by the question, or by it being from my father, I’m not sure, “I’ve never met the brother before, although I knew he existed.”

“Interesting,” says David.

Interesting indeed.

“Where are the kids?” I ask.

“Didn’t I tell you?” asks Da Vinci, “They’re outside.”

“W—You mean in the hall?” I ask, taken aback, “They’re not resting?” Ritsuka is dead on her feet, and Akira and Mash just returned from a rayshift like three hours before we arrived!

Da Vinci shrugs. “Like father like-” She stops and almost seems a little flustered, then just offers me an impish grin.

Weird, I think, since it’s really no secret I see Mash as a daughter, to anyone. I guess I probably deserve that though. …Damn it! WHY didn’t I do a better job at teaching her to prioritize her health? Stupid! Kids watch what you DO, not just what you say! Stupid stupid! Bad job, Romani! Bad job!!

“Okay, well, let’s fix that too,” I say, increasing speed towards the door. God knows we ask enough of them as it is. I hope they haven’t been too exhausted and miserable out there.

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

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” says Akira, beaming at me, “I mean, what are the chances?!”

“I know!” I chirp. I’ve been grinning so hard the past few hours that it hurts my cheeks, but I’ll never stop! “And you?! Holy crap! The Last Master of Humanity??”

“No-no!” he corrects, his mouth full of the pb&j he’s been working, raising a hand and then pointing from me to him, “The Last Masters of Humanity.”

I laugh.

“Like, go Fujimaru twins, am I right?” he asks, mouth even fuller as he takes another bite.

I elbow him. “Don’t do that! Didn’t dad teach you manners? Not in front of a kouhai!”

He chokes on the pb&j and desperately grabs his milk bottle to help wash it down, then after a solid swallow, gives his friend an apologetic little, “Sorry Mash.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” she replies hurriedly, flushing at us both, “I know you’re hungry and tired.”

“Well, you must be too, right?” I say, offering her a box of pocky.

Hesitantly, the purple haired girl just a year or so younger than me, takes the box and opens it, giving me a little smile.

Mash is neat. We’ve all only been talking for like, two hours or something—it can’t possibly have been that long since my group even arrived—but, I like her. Somehow, she feels like somebody I’ve known all my life. I guess she just must be that kind of person. And, it makes me happy. And relieved.

She’s timid, and quiet. Big eyes, soft voice, always watching the stuff around her like a baby deer taking in the world. But, from Akira’s stories I’ve been getting, she’s also like, super brave and dependable. And a ‘Demi-Servant,’ which, as far as I gather, is a heroic spirit kind of reverse-possessing someone, so instead of them getting the body, they let a normal living human use their power. Apparently, back when the building exploded, Mash got trapped under a fallen pillar, and my brother went and was going to die like a hero holding her hand while another bomb went off, so she wouldn’t be alone (a story she told me trying not to cry, and while staring firmly at the ground, while he turned the reddest I’ve ever seen him, and also looked so, so smug). But instead of either dying, they were saved by whoever is letting Mash use their heroic spirit power, and got rayshifted out.

Rayshifted, as far as I gather, is like teleporting and time travel. Okay, mechanically, it’s more like going to another plane in D&D, where you’ve got a thread connecting your body to a duplicate body, but if one dies the other is in big trouble—you know what—I don’t get all the science. Miss Da Vinci said you’re broken down into your spiritrons, and those are transported to other coordinates in time and space, and re-assembled. So, I wouldn’t know how to do it, but, I get what it does, which I think for me is the important half.

Anyway, when time got incinerated in the city, apparently it was because specific points in history were getting messed up, and my bro and Mash went and repaired one. So one ‘Singularity’ is now stabilized, and, if they fix them all, the world will come back.

So far, it’s been a crazy ride—I mean, his story might be even wilder than mine. And we’re both not even totally done telling the stories. We’ve really only covered bare-bones.

But anyway, to me, the important part is that he’s here and okay and alive, and that this can all be fixed. And, that I’m really glad Mash was here. Akira is brave, but we’ve always done stuff together. We’re strong because we were born with somebody to lean on—I think that’s part of why I’ve been able to do so well with these heroic spirits helping me, despite not being very good at magecraft: I literally came out of the womb as part of a team.

Akira’s the same. We’re strong when we have somebody to lean on, and to prop up, but not alone. And, while I wasn’t here, Mash has done that for him—really reliably!

Plus, I think, smiling as I watch her chomping on the pocky with more gusto than I’ve ever seen anybody else eat it, like a toddler trying ice cream the first time, I bet they’re good for each other. He’s got a lot of charisma and adaptability and he knows how to make you smile when it’s rough, so you can keep going. Mash sounds like she’d be there to be a voice of reason, and pull you up when you fall, but might need somebody who can make her feel like it’s okay for her to smile and talk more too. I bet they’re going to be great friends.

“I’m glad he was the first one you summoned,” says Akira, who has already forgotten what I just said, and gone back to talking with food in his mouth—indicating Billy with his head. “He smiles a lot.”

“He smiles a lot?” I echo.

“Yeah,” agrees Akira, giving me a grin, “You don’t have me there to crack jokes when you need them, so you need somebody else to remind you it could always have been worse, and it’s gonna get better.”

I snort, but then I think about it, and I smile. He’s not totally wrong, and even more than that, it’s reassuring. Twin-morphic-resonance. We were thinking the same thing.

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

“How’re you doing, you sad bastard?” asks Lancer, sidling over to where I’m sitting slumped against a wall near the conference room, holding a bottle.

“I feel like I might do nothing but throw up for the next year,” I reply dryly, annoyed to have to pry my eyes open again at all. It just makes the headache worse.

“Well hey,” he says, sliding down against the wall next to me, and slapping me on the shoulder, “You got the world record now, for longest sustained reality marble. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Great. Put it on my tombstone,” I reply, shutting my eyes again and leaning my head back against the wall.

“Oh, get over yourself. You’re not even injured,” he replies in an annoyingly amicable way.

I sigh. “Why are you over here bothering me. What do you want?”

There’s a clink as he taps something glass—I have to assume the bottle—against the metal guard on the back of my hand.

Annoyed, I crack open an eye and glance over. He’s raising a large bottle of what up close I can tell is definitely alcohol of some kind.

“Come on,” he says, “Gotta push through.”

‘Push through’?! I think, irritated, I just sustained a reality marble for almost three days. I’ll kill you.

“Alcohol isn’t exactly going to make a headache better,” I reply dryly.

He snorts. “Not going to make it worse.”

Yes it will, stupid. “What do you care, anyway. Go bother someone else,” I reply.

He rolls his eyes and removes the glass cork, then takes a swig. He holds the bottle out to me.

I’m annoyed, but I’m too tired to keep arguing, and I want him to go away, so exhausted, I take it, and drink. I'm even more annoyed that it's actually pretty good.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning at me.

Oh go fuck yourself, I think. “How’s the doctor?” I ask instead.

Lancer shrugs. “Seems fine now. Everyone who’s useful at that kind of magecraft is in the command room, trying to figure out how the hell this happened. Everyone else is supposed to rest up.”

Great, is there a bed somewhere then? That actually might help. “Anywhere better for that than here on the floor?” I ask.

When we arrived, after what was more of an awkward than dangerous standoff when the doctor fainted, we were more or less asked to stick around this general area, and it would have been more trouble than it was worth not to comply. Besides which, as tired as I and everyone else are, the civilians who are actual living humans have it worse, and some of them are injured. They were given access to a large conference room and as many pillows and spare blankets as the staff here seemed able to find. Us spirits, and the Fujimaru kids, stuck around near the command room to wait for the doctor to wake up.

“They’re working on it. We brought in almost two-hundred people,” says Lancer, a little more seriously, “And the facility was bombed not long ago, so a lot of their shit is under rubble right now.”

“Bombed?” I ask. News to me. But then, I missed a lot the last few hours. Basically as soon as I could tell there wasn’t going to be a fight, I went to collapse and rest somewhere, with as much dignity as I could, before my core knocked me out completely.

“Yeah. Right—You left,” says Lancer, cocking his head and thinking, “Some guy turned traitor, and took out a lot of the staff a couple days ago—to them, right at the turn of the year. They’ve been scrambling ever since.”

I nod, too tired to ask a lot more right now. “Anything pressing, for us?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. You can pass out.”

On the floor? I’m not sure I’m that desperate. Not with this group of people.

Lancer takes the bottle back and drinks, then passes it back to me. I give in and take another swig. Energy is energy, and it’s not bad. Even if it won’t help the headache. I guess I’m physically past caring about that.

“…It’s weird, isn’t it?”

I glance over at Lancer, waiting for him to elaborate. His tone has changed. It’s light, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness, study, almost. He’s not really looking at anything I can tell, though, just eyeing the empty hall.

Finally, he turns his face back towards me, and smiles, but I don’t believe the smile. I don’t really think I’m meant to. “It’s familiar.”

Is it?

I’m skeptical, but, as he says it, and I turn my own head to look over the nondescript, white-blue walls, it’s…

“There’s…a cafeteria. That way,” I say, not sure why, pointing to my left. “Two halls down.”

I haven’t walked that way at all.

Lancer nods. “There is.” We meet eyes, and we both understand something I almost wish we didn’t.

“…We’ve been here before,” I say. It’s not a question. “Together.”

He nods, very slowly.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“I…remembered,” says Lancer, thinking, and quieter than usual, “And I didn’t. ‘I’ haven’t been here. I’m sure ‘you’ haven’t either. But some version of us has. Because I remember, a Christmas with you.”

“…And…Robin?” I ask, perturbed by the sudden inkling. It’s not a visual memory. It’s like…information, like the throne fills in when we’re sent to a different area. Or the familiar emotion a smell brings, if you knew it well. “…No. David and Robin, but not you…” I add to myself, under my breath. The hell? Were all of us…?

But then, Da Vinci said that, didn’t she? That she knew all of us aside from Salieri.

“It’s our own future summons,” I suggest, “That we’re remembering.”

“But if it is,” says Lancer skeptically, “That would mean we’re all about to die. Then get re-summoned, and be remembering the re-summoning. We can’t remember the summon we’re on.”

He’s right. “That…seems a little far-fetched. But I don’t know what else it would be,” I say. Maybe I do.

“Parallel timeline?” suggests Lancer.

“Our memories, or, sense of them, is way too keen for that…unless, there’s a reason we’re being allowed this much,” I add, thinking.

He shrugs, seeming to completely relax again suddenly.

“What?” I ask.

He glances at me and smiles. “Ah, nothing. I could tell you remembered stuff too. Figured if we were about to die, we’d both have some kind of bad feeling. Or one of us would, at least. But neither of us does. If we aren’t about to die, the memory stuff is a problem for future us.”

The way you live your life, I think, smiling at the absurdity in spite of myself. He holds out the glass and I take it and drink. “Well, good luck to them then,” I say tiredly.

Lancer grins and holds up the bottle in toast. “To them. Probably gonna fuckin’ need it.”

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

“So, that about bring everyone up to speed?” asks Da Vinci pleasantly.

The Chaldea staff around us trade looks, confused, but glad to have answers, even if they’re answers they don’t understand. The civilians who aren’t resting, and chose to attend, seem to be feeling an even stronger version of the same response. Something like ‘Oh thank God somebody has an idea.’ –I guess I can kind of relate. I flip up the hood of my cloak, and relax a little against the back wall. Even if the situation sucks, it’s reassuring to have some answers. Plus, the doc and his two casters look a lot more relaxed, so, I gotta believe they have a plan forming now, at worst.

In the front, I see Ritsuka’s hand shoot up, and just a half-second later, her brother’s beside her. Da Vinci nods at them both.

“So…” says Ritsuka with great focus, glancing at her brother then Da Vinci, “If our best move is to stabilize things enough we can find Goetia, then what’s our next step to stabilizing?”

“Our next step,” answers Doctor Romani with a tired smile, “Is for you to rest—for everyone, to rest. Those of us who do analysis, we’ll take shifts, so we can keep running tests on the situation. Everyone else, we need to be in tip-top shape.”

One of the kids goes to ask him a question—the brother—Akira? – and Doctor Romani cuts him off with a gentle hand.

“-Akira, Mash, you two just got back from a harrowing experience. Eat, sleep, and then report tomorrow for a physical exam and mental health checkup. Ritsuka, you just helped sustain a reality marble for the better part of three days. After almost dying, and contracting a grail war’s worth of spirits. You do the same. On the subject of spirits, obviously Emiya needs time to recover, but as much as possible, I want everyone else to, too. Rest up, because we need you sharp. We’ve uh—finally—got accommodations and rooms worked out. Sylvia has a print out with room assignments, as well as directions to bathrooms, the cafeteria, and medical quarters.”

“And after we report?” asks Akira.

Doctor Romani sighs. “…We don’t know for sure yet, but, it’s pretty likely we’ll be having to send out small groups to contend with both the targeted singularities, and the new anomalies. We’ll let you know more when we do. But for now, the assignment is rest.”

“Yes sir!” calls out the little purple haired girl—Mash—almost over the end of his sentence. She turns pink and stutters out an apology.

“I can’t believe he wasn’t lying about the daughter thing after all,” mutters Emiya in disbelief nearby.

I try not to laugh.

“And that goes for the Doctor, too! I’m afraid he’ll be out of commission while he sleeps,” says David in a friendly tone with more than a little danger hiding inside it warning against being challenged, “There are other people on standby at the medbay though—don’t worry.”

Doctor Romani sighs again. “Any last questions?”

“I got one, but not for him,” says Billy’s voice in my head, “Robin, uh—everything he said—you got the gist of it, yeah?”

“I did,” I reply, mostly ignoring the end of the briefing in favor of this.

“Well, if some human mages figured out some kind of First Law type magic altered the world state, I can see those greedy bastards runnin’ around breakin’ all kindsa shit tryin’ to get more power—ain’t like mages ever been careful before,” he replies, “But they ain’t the ones who changed it. Too much experimenting. And I believe the Doc didn’t do it. I know the kid didn’t. So who do you think did?”

“Why would I know?” I ask, turning to lean against the wall and trying to find him in the crowd so I can give him a look, “I’m not a Caster, or any kind of magic user, for that matter. If they don’t know, no way I do.”

“Well, sure,” says Billy awkwardly, and I find him in the crowd finally, near the far left side, already watching me. To my surprise, he looks…deeply contemplative. “But you would know who would want us to have a chance to see each other.”

“Come again?” I say, truly taken aback.

“I…thought it over,” says Billy, meeting my gaze, “What got said back in the bar—about how everyone but Kotarou seems to come in a set? Think about it.” He ticks off on his fingers. “You, Me. Emiya, Cu Chulainn. David, the Doctor. Mozart, Salieri. Doesn’t it seem way too random to be random?”

… “I take your meaning…” I offer slowly, “…I do. …But. …No one would. Right?”

Billy nods, looking concerned. “I could only think of Geronimo, for us. But, I don’t think he’s ever even met any of the others. They sure as shit don’t remember him. And I can’t think of anybody else. But it can’t be coincidence, right? Two is coincidence, three is a pattern—that’s the sayin’.”

“Well…whoever did, it seems non-malicious, right?” I say after a few seconds of thought, “Even as much as Emiya and Cu Chulainn bitch at each other, they’re not actually mad to both be here. And it’s a straight-up gift to most of us. I don’t think we need to be worried about it.”

I look across the room at Billy, and the expression on his face says he could not be more sure that I’m wrong.

“I think you want to know a donor, not just a robber,” offers Billy.

And when I consider the re-painting of the whole world going on around us, I realize pretty quick he couldn’t be more right.

“Alright!” comes Da Vinci’s voice, loud through the speaker system, and sharp, snapping me back to attention, “That concludes the briefing! Everyone rest up. We all need it, and it's a big day tomorrow.”

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

It’s quiet in the room. Somehow, it feels almost like being home. I really like it.

I mean, it doesn’t look like home. The walls there are not the off-white of paper walls like I’m used to at home, and there aren’t all the pictures and posters Akira and I hung up on them; it’s kind of sparse in here—just white-blue walls and floor, the Chaldea emblem on the wall, a desk and an empty shelf, and our beds—but, just the same. …It feels like getting in your bed at home does. Dunno why. Maybe because Akira is here, and we’re always okay together.

“Aki,” I say. He’s been quiet, but I know he’s not asleep. He doesn’t like, snore when he sleeps, but he breathes louder, and I know the sound super well. He isn’t doing it right now.

“Suka,” he replies. I can tell he knew I was awake already too.

“…Are you okay?”

I haven’t gotten to ask that before. We always had Mash, or Doctor Romani, or Billy, or somebody else nearby. I mean, I could ask, but he couldn’t have said the truth, if I had, and I couldn’t have either.

“…”

I hear him sit up, so I roll onto my side and look over. Even in the dim light from the hall outside, spilling under the door, I can see him enough to make out his expression, and see he’s looking at me, too.

“…No,” he says simply. He leans against the wall, and tucks his knees up to his chest.

I climb out of my bed, and walk over to his, clambering up beside him. Taking my place next to him, where I always am, I sigh, letting out some real tension finally, and I feel him lean his head on my shoulder.

“How about you?” says Akira.

“I’m not either,” I say quietly, “…But. You know. It doesn’t matter.”

It’s weird. I wish it did, but, I feel selfish, and bad, for wishing it did.

“Yeah,” he says in the same subdued tone as my own.

“…We’re gonna be okay,” I promise, looking over.

He exhales slowly. When he speaks, I can hear an attempt at a smile in his voice. It makes me sad… “Are we?”

I take his hand. He squeezes mine, and we sit in silence for a few minutes, just thinking, and breathing together.

“…You wanna tell me about it?” I ask finally, in the stillness of the room that feels like my bedroom at home somehow, even though it’s on the other side of the world, at the end of it, “About it for real? With all the bad parts, and awful feelings, and stuff you’re afraid to even think? The stuff that wakes you up at night?”

He thinks about that. “Yeah. I would. But you go first.”

“…I got somebody killed. For real, forever. Not because I wasn’t fast enough to help. The heroic spirits helping me killed them, for doing bad stuff. And now they’re just dead.” I think about that for real. About Mr. Toujou. Miss Ayase.

I turn and look at Akira, and see his eyes reflected back in the dim light, like my other half.

“…I feel bad. I didn’t want it. But, what’s worse is…I don’t feel very bad. I know I should feel worse than I do. I know I should feel guiltier, and have tried harder. But, Mr. Toujou threatened to kill you, and Mom, and Dad. He was going to kill me, and make me kill my heroic spirit. They were torturing people. Director Ayase was running that whole place. And I…I saw, what they did to Billy, to Robin, Cu Chulainn, David, god, Salieri. …Kotarou. I just…”

He's still watching, listening. No judgement.

“…I’m scared it’s gonna change me,” I whisper, letting go of his hand to bury my face in my knees. “What if I become bad? What if I care less someday? I don’t want to stop being me, but I feel like I’m already letting myself down.”

“…” Akira watches me a few more seconds, then looks away. “…I saw a bunch of people die,” he whispers, “When that bomb went off, there was fire everywhere. Parts of the ceiling had fallen on them. The walls. Some had even burned alive. The worst part, was that not everybody was dead yet. And…” His eyes tear up. “…Mash was there. A column had crushed her body. Everything in her midsection must have just been pulp, and I couldn’t lift the column, and it wouldn’t have mattered if I could. She was dead, it was just taking a while. And I could hear another bomb ticking down. I was so scared. I wanted so bad, Suk, to live. I wanted to run out that door, and not look back. But god, she was so scared. She was crying, and shaking. I knew the scariest thing on earth, to her, was to die alone. And I knew I wasn’t gonna achieve anything, except a few seconds being less bad, if I stayed to die with her. If I died, you and Mom and Dad would all be so sad, too. It would have been so easy, to leave her. I wanted to leave her.”

I realize he’s crying.

“…But you didn’t,” I say.

“I’m scared it doesn’t matter,” says Akira, “Matter enough? I thought about it. She was so pitiful, and helpless, and I thought about leaving her to die alone, to save myself.”

“But you didn’t,” I say again, putting a hand on his back.

He nods, breathing slowing back down. “I know. …What if I do someday, though?”

Oh. We’re exactly the same, huh.

“…You won’t,” I say after a few seconds. “I know, because I know you better than I know myself. Even if you did, I’d still love you, and I’d forgive you, and you’d still be good, but you won’t. Because you’re glad, right?”

He glances at me.

“You’re glad you stayed. And not just because you got a miracle, and survived. It was scary, when you were deciding, but after, it was easy, right? Like peace.”

“…How did you know?” he asks, shifting to face me more completely.

“I saw how you looked at Mash,” I reply easily, smiling, “You were grateful, right? That you got to save her.”

He nods. “I was really glad.”

“Then don’t worry. You aren’t how you feel, you’re how you choose to be. And you’d always save her. I bet you know that already, deep down. It’s just really scary, the first time you have to act the way you always thought you would,” I say.

“You realize you’re not holding yourself to the same standard, right?” replies Akira with a tired smile, plopping a hand on my head, “You’re worried you’re bad because you aren’t feeling guilty enough.”

“-W—no—and I didn’t try hard enough!” I argue.

“Didn’t you?” he says, unimpressed.

Did I? I’m not sure anymore. I’m so jumbled up, it’s hard to tell.

“You know how when we were kids, you always really liked the character who was the hero’s friend, who got trapped sort of turning to the dark side—not because they were bad, but because sometimes someone had to do something a little bad, so the hero didn’t have to?” asks Akira, “They were such a good friend, they’d even lose themselves, so the hero didn’t have to?”

“Is that what I’m turning into?” I ask nervously.

He grins and shakes his head, like I’m being stupid. “No. But you should love yourself at least as much as that, if you ever started to. Those people who died, it was to protect your friends right? And you feel guilty you didn’t try harder to keep them alive, even though probably there was no way to do it at all?”

But…what if there was? And I’m just not good enough to find it…

I nod, and look at the sheets.

“So if you even did anything wrong, which I think you didn’t, even a little, you only did it to protect somebody you love,” says Akira, like it’s so easy, “You put them before an ideal that was gonna hurt them. That’s not bad. That’s love. You’ve always been good, and you always will be Ritsuka. And if you ever have to do things you wish you didn’t, I already know the only reason you’re gonna do them is so someone like me doesn’t have to. I hope you never, ever have to do that again. But if you do, thank you.”

He reaches over, and he pulls me into a hug.

It’s a little unexpected, since we were talking, but, I think I needed it. I feel the urge to cry build up in my throat, and lean in against him, wrapping my arms around his back.

“I know you want to save everybody, and have everybody be good, and never hurt anyone at all,” whispers Akira, “You want to love everybody, and see it all turns out alright. So thank you, for taking a bullet for everybody else. I know it hurt. And I know it hurts to ever act how you don’t want to be. But thank you, and I love you for it. Thank you for loving me enough to do the hard thing yourself.”

“Do I have to do it?” I whisper, voice shaky, trying not to cry. I can’t, so I stop talking, and lean my head into his shoulder, doing it silently.

“No,” says Akira, “You never have to. I hope next time, I’m the one who does.”

I don’t want that at all. I’d much rather it be me.

Oh.

There’s something in that thought that gets through the way the rest of what he’s been saying hasn’t quite been able to. Maybe…maybe not every part of it isn’t bad, about me, even if most of it was. Maybe there’s a little piece of love in there too, after all.

“Let’s hope neither of us has to ever again. I want to grow up a little slower,” says Akira.

“Me too. But so long as I get to do it with you, I think we’ll both be okay,” I whisper back.

And it helps.

In the way my twin has only ever been able to help me.

Akira and I talk, for several hours, when we should be sleeping, but, I think we both need this a lot more. I talk about helplessness and weakness and my inability, and the weight of quick choices, and my fears. He talks about failing to save somebody, and needing to never do it again, and how lonely it feels to survive.

But, it’s not all bad.

I already knew it wasn’t, for me, but somehow when I say the good and all the bad together to Akira, I really hear how much is good in a different way—even with the parts that are bad; like, how I was so scared Toujou would kill him and Mom and Dad, and how Emiya said he wouldn’t blame me if I made him die there to save them, and how he thanked me after. How he promised he’d keep them safe from Ur Shanabi, and did it too. How Salieri makes me so sad and worried, and said he’s not like a real person, but I gave him food, and talked to him the same, and I didn’t think it would matter, but I saw him smile at the shop. How Doctor Roman bought the goofiest swimsuits in the gift shop, to try and help me relax, and wore it all through an operation. How I was a little worried about tying my pool of energy to somebody I didn’t really know, but he keeps coming to check on me and make sure I’m okay, and he hasn’t betrayed me or hurt me once. I keep gambling, and winning—I said that to Akira. He said, ‘No. You keep putting faith in people, and they keep proving you right.’

I’m not sure if it’s different. But, I like the way he says it.

It’s been scary. I watched the world wipe away, like a bomb was taking out the whole planet. But, we saved people—people that weren’t alive in the version of the world Akira knew about, here in Chaldea. Maybe it’s only ninety-six people who wouldn’t have made it, but that’s so much more than zero. I’m really proud of it. Even in the horror, we’ve done little things okay.

It's the same for Akira. He doesn’t tell me until the next morning, when we’re getting ready for the day, but, he feels awful for what happened to Olga Marie, but he says he also saw her change—grow—that, in the short time they worked together, she got less mean, and less hard, and he was proud. She said she didn’t want to die, because she hadn’t proven herself yet, but he said, ‘I wish it felt like it might have mattered to her that she did, to me, in Fuyuki…’ I said, ‘I think it would.’ He smiled. And he talked about Mash, who’s shy, and awkward, but she’s brave, too. He said she’s gone from being barely able to say no to a request, to risking her life to protect him—and she’s not just braver, she seems happier. Not that all this bad stuff happened, but she’s really…alive. He says Doctor Roman told him that talking with Akira after the mission was the happiest he’s ever seen her. It would be great, if nobody had died, and she still got to feel that way, but the fact it happened a bad way, doesn’t make the goof part not good.

I can tell he’s different, too. Akira’s impulsive, like me; Mom and Dad call us ‘the tornado twins,’ because we ran around causing messes on accident so much when we were little. I know he hasn’t changed much, but, I can see him thinking hard now, and I know he’s thinking about how to make everybody happy and safe. I wish he hadn’t had to grow up a little so fast. I wish it hadn’t happened at all. But, for parts of him to grow into early, I’m really happy he picked such a nice one.

We talk for several hours, quiet, like we used to when Mom and Dad had said it was bed time and we better not, and we’d whisper to each other through the wall of our rooms anyway and be bad, because we were too excited about a trip the next day. I know they were right, and so is the Doctor now, but I think this time we were too, because at the end of it all, I climb back in my bed, and I hear Akira whisper, “Hey, Suka? I really love you, you know?” and I whisper back, “I love you even more,” and we go back and forth trying to one-up the other for a minute, and then call it a tie, and the room gets quiet, and I really rest for the first time since this all started, since the day I got Billy out, like I’ve learned how to sleep again by talking with my brother.

Maybe I have. Maybe if he can be proud for me, and I can be sure for him, we can both really be…okay.

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

Timeline: Two Months, Sixteen Days, Two Hours Forward. Coordinates: -4.R48X91, -R1.559X46 Graph: 10912.1326

The jungle is dark and full of shadows, but it is not quiet.

That is a good sign. There is nothing more fearful, in a jungle, than the absence of noise. Can you even imagine the terrors it would take to scare every type of beast living in one, into silent submission or flight?

So, it is a clearly good sign.

What is clearly not a good sign, is the man-made structure up ahead.

Kuhaha, I mutter as a scoff in my throat. Irritating, being dropped here for this. Not that I’d prefer a master; I wouldn’t. But I’d prefer some damn idea of what I’m being flung here to do.

It isn’t like planning or persistence are issues for me, which is probably why the Counter Force chose me, but it’s not my job, and I don’t love being spat out by it. I shouldn’t be here at all. And if I’m in the prison tower after this again, I’ll hunt her and that demon down myself.

Still. I let myself melt into the shadows and fade in and out, towards the building. It’s an ugly thing, built at odd angles and jutting out, like boxes of different sizes stacked haphazardly about. I have become curious, so, I may as well indulge. Despite my distaste for the system, it does tend to throw heroic spirits at the more disgusting humans in this miserable world, and I have a taste for blood.

There is movement behind me.

How. The HELL, did I not notice the-?!

Cursing, I swing around, and am uppercut in the face by a massive blunt object the size of a bed.

Shit, I think it is a bed, I register as I fly backwards, breaking through two trees before catching onto a third one with a clawed hand and swinging around it with my momentum, landing back on my feet with an aching jaw.

Fast—hell—too fast! I feel almost no spike in magical energy, but the red figure who attacked is a blur, tearing at me at a sickening speed. Tch-!

I leap up, and call black flames to my hands, raining them down on the thing, but it dodges and weaves, and I see it raise a gun, so I mentally calculate the time it takes for a bullet to be fired and aim taken, and dodge, leaping from the tree I’m clinging to, smack into the path of the gun, because it THROWS it at me! Not shoots! No! It throws the whole gun at me!

It doesn’t even hurt that much, but it catches me by surprise, and expecting that, the red figure takes that fraction of an opening, leaps, and kicks me out of mid-air, through another three trees. I hear trunks snap and thud around me, and curse as I dig my claws into the ground to bring myself to a stop. It’s going to draw guards, like this.This thing is probably their perimeter security. I need to retreat, if I want to at least avoid being identified.

I sink into the shadows, and begin to melt from one to another, and the stupid thing appears from among the trees at a full-tilt run again, going right for me—I swear! The damn thing locks eyes! It’s a human, too—a heroic spirit, it must be, and it’s running at me like a football player going for a tackle.

FINE! If that’s how you want it!

I dash forward myself, and having run away before, I catch her by surprise, ducking under her arm and slicing her through the gut with a black-fame’d claw.

She cries out, more in surprise than anger or pain, and whips around to follow me like she hasn’t even noticed.

Tch. It didn’t go as deep as I meant.

The woman twisted on impact, like even too late to dodge, she somehow knows the best place in her gut to take the hit. This is a pain. I’m not really hurt yet, but neither is she. I need to make this really fast, or whatever is in that building that the Counter Force found important enough to throw me at, is going to come out here, and I’m not a man who likes to rush in blind. I should take this more seriously.

Annoyed, I catch another tree and swing myself around it again, sliding past her as she barrels after me, and slicing into her leg.

Almost too easy. She caught me by surprise, but she’s not as fast as me, just odd.

Moving faster, I tear off into the cover of shadows again, her, single-minded as a bull, plowing after me through the underbrush, then I turn and leap to a tree, propel myself off the side to another, and then from it, dive down at her, tearing a gash across her chest as I go past.

Breathing hard, she hesitates, turning to see where I went, and I use the opening to dash in and swing at her back with a claw, and my fingers sink in and find flesh, just as I feel a vice-like hand clamp down on my neck, raise me up, and slam me hard into the ground

JESUS! How strong-?!

It actually stuns me. Just a split second, but she slams me down so hard that the ground dents around me, and I’m at least two feet down, in a crater, throat burning.

“Hold still,” she says like a mildly-irritated reprimand, and that tips me off like nothing else has. She’s not even mildly threatened.

Shit-

“I don’t need mercy!” I shout, raising a hand towards her face, and managing to dig my fingers into the side of it, drawing blood, but her eyes are fixed on me like steel, and she’s already calling hers out, too:

“I will purge all that is toxic, all that is harmful.”

“I follow a path that is beyond love and hate!” I spit, digging my claws deeper and feeling my mana surge around me.

            “For as long as I have this power-“

“Enter Chateau D’If!”

I do it—I’m faster.

Around me, I feel my body speed up, my mind sharpen, until the pace is so frantic, time may as well stop around me. Wrenching myself from her grasp, I rip a claw up and through her torso, scouring her body with black flames, curses of death. I move at the same time left, right, behind her, above, tearing her back, her legs, her arms, her face; I am everywhere, I am fire itself, I am death and hate in that moment, I am the concept of inescapable suffering and the unconquerable march of the reaper. In an instant, I attack from every conceivable angle, and cover her body in the flames of the cursed poison inside me, then skid to a stop on her left as the phantasm breaks and ends around me, the world catching back up.

You’re finished, I think, relieved, and surprised to be threatened enough to be relieved, No one can survive those flames.

And no living witness to a phantasm, no identity given away.

Her uniform, as I’m only now recognizing it to be, hanging in tatters around her, blood seeping from her chest over breasts and down her torso, past the hole through her stomach, and along shredded leg muscles, she blinks in surprise at where I was, then turns to see me where I am now, as if she can still sense it. Her face is not twisted in pain or anger. Her eyes are red, like mine, and burn, like mine, but burn a different color. Blood seeps down her forehead, and it’s like she doesn’t feel it, the way I don’t. And she looks at me, but not the way I am looking at her. She reaches out a hand, but not the way I reached out mine, and she calls:

            “I shall lead everyone to happiness!”

She’s still using it, I realize, taken aback. She has to know using that much energy would kill her instantly, with my flames consuming her body at speed already. She’s going to take me out with-?

“Nightingale Pledge!”

A waterfall of white flames erupts around her and the black flames of my phantasm that are burning out her life, and behind her, a massive figure the size of a building appears—like her—I think it is her, but made of white flame as well, and with a sword, and she raises a hand and the sword comes down with a ferocity and speed—I try to move, and find I can’t, and it hits me.

And passes through.

I breathe raggedly, reaching a hand to my chest, and I find myself undamaged, only—Wait. My flames have gone out?

They always glow around me and my claws, but-

Shit!

I look back at her and see they’ve vanished around her as well, and as she stands there, unmoving, the slashes across her face heal, and the hole in her stomach closes, and-

Mer…

I see her. I see me, in the Chateau D’If, and—?

“Mercedes?” I ask, taken aback, and I forget for just an instant, to move.

She is on me like an attack dog, her force and size knocking me to the ground again, and I see an outstretched hand holding a pad with what can only be chloroform on it from the smell—Stupid! Poison won’t even work on me! I just used my own-

My back hits the ground and the pad rams into my face, and WHY THE FUCK IS IT WORKING?!?

What the HELL is going on with her?! WHY-?

Damn it! Her phantasm! That’s right—some part of me remembers; it blocks the effects of other—

“Mercedes!” I try, voice muffled by the pad, “Get off of me!”

I could stab her until she lets go, but now that I remember who she is, I suddenly don’t want to; I also suddenly remember she’d probably die before thinking to move, the insane  nurse! Instead, I try to just grab and pull her off, but it’s like wrestling a goddamn rhino.

What kind of insane strength do you HAVE, woman?!?

“Please sit patiently. You are in need of treatment,” she states calmly, pinning me down without mercy, and not budging an inch.

“I do not need treatment!” comes my muffled voice as I thrash around under her, trying not to breathe, “I’m fine! Get off! We’re on the same side!”

“I’m sorry, but you are clearly disoriented and unwell. You may be suffering an injury to the head,” she says with sympathy, “I am not Mercedes.”

YOU BITCH! Do you remember me too, and you still-?!

Shit, it’s getting hard. We don’t exactly do body functions the way humans do, but it doesn’t matter, because her chloroform is seeping in not exactly the way it’s supposed to either. Holding my breath seems to slow it down, but I think it’s sinking into my skin anyway. Also, it’s also agonizing, which it shouldn’t be, because I don’t actually have human lungs! I should be able to hold out until it starts damaging my prana cycle, and instead she’s…fucking somehow forcing my body to think it’s functioning like it’s flesh and blood! “You remember me?” I manage.

She tilts her head and blinks at me, considering my face, staring deeply.

“…No,” she decides.

LIAR!

“Listen to me!” I choke out, “I don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t get off me, I’ll rip you to shreds! We both need to get out of here, before the people in that building get here to check out the massive disturbance you caused!”

She turns her head to look, then looks back at me.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I do know you.”

Finally! Thank-

I relax for just an instant, and she dumps a whole bottle of chloroform onto my head, then slams me in the gut so I involuntarily take a breath, before I can even process what just happened.

Shit…

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding genuinely sorry, “You were agitated and needed to be sedated. I decided the best way for you not to hurt me like you want, is for you to go to sleep.”

“You bitch…” I wheeze weakly, forgetting not to take a breath, with my head suddenly so hazy. This is so stupid. I’ve made so many mistakes in a row, and it’s just because I remember her! This is why it’s a mistake to ever let anyone get close to you—only someone you trust can ever stab you in the back! Why did I do this?! I’m so frustrated I almost do hope she just bashes my head into a puddle now. Maybe I’d finally learn that lesson.

“That’s extremely inappropriate language,” she reprimands harshly, as if she’s disappointed in me now, too. Gripping the lapels of my coat firmly, she jerks me up, and hoists me over a shoulder in a fireman carry.

…this sucks.

“Just…kill me,” I hiss out unhappily. Damn it. My head is starting to feel numb.

“I told you—I am not going to kill you,” she replies, “You need treatment.”

Great.

I feel a gloved hand pat my head. “That’s good. Please remain calm. Your anger was consuming you so much you could not listen to reason, but do not worry; I will find a way to cure you even if I have to kill you.”

“…please don’t,” say dryly, giving up and hanging limp over a shoulder.

“I am Florence Nightingale,” she says, ignoring me.

No shit. “I know…who you are,” I manage between labored breaths.

She glances at me and tilts her head again, curious this time. “Then why did you call me-?”

I pretend to pass out, because I don’t want to answer, and I’m exhausted now anyway.

“Hmmm. Poor man,” she says with a sad sigh, and forges on.

Angel of Crimea, more like Angel of Brute Force Sanity, I think, but I’m not as annoyed as I could be. I’m not as sick as I’m acting, either. The effects of her drugs will knock me out if I’m not careful, but they only worked full force when she was smashing me in the face with them, and with her noble phantasm wearing off now too, I could choose to activate my poison resistance and shake off the effects. The thing is, though, I actually don’t really mind letting her have her fun, and just going along with whatever it is she’s planning. I could fight back now, or break free, and run away, but I don’t really have a reason to.  I mean, she’s not going to kill me, no matter what she said; she just isn’t like that—and it isn’t like Alaya gave me instructions, so if it can’t be bothered to lift a finger, why should I run around slaving for some malicious god? Besides, as much of a pain as that crazy nurse can be, she can also be fun, and the fact she’s here at all is interesting.

The fact both of us are?

Maybe there is a reason, I think, contented, and I begin to plot.

[riley-kore]

Hi guys. As I aim to write more this year here is a fic I’ve been working on.

To say you were pissed was the least. You had taken the last two days off work to prepare for today. You spent the day decorating the apartment and getting everything ready for his birthday and now he wasn’t answering his phone.

You and Lewis have been together for three years and you have managed to keep it private all this time. You lived in LA and Lewis spent most of the time in Europe. Both of you had very busy schedules but you always made things work. Communication had always been the most important and effective part of your relationship. You had made plans weeks ahead for Lewis to spend his birthday with you and he promised to be home on time because you told him you had plans. But here you were as his birthday came to a close sitting and crying after sending the caterers and the musicians that you hired for his private dinner.

You remember the your sister telling you dating Lewis may only cause you pain. Now here you are all dressed up wearing the dress he loves hoping that this feeling will pass.

Lewis entered the apartment hours later ready to rap his day up. When he got to the living room he saw it the Happy Birthday flower wall, the balloons, burnt out candles all over the place.

“ Shit” he mumbled. He quickly walked to the bedroom looking for you but you weren’t there. He searched the other rooms but nothing. He called your phone and a small ring came from the living room. There you were curled up in the tiniest way possible covered in a blanket. He went over and knelt in front of you. Your eyes were puffy and the tear stains were everywhere. He gently shook you.

You open your eyes and saw him. By this point you weren’t angry, you weren’t sad or disappointed; at least not with Lewis but with yourself. You looked at him got up and walked to the bathroom and started getting ready for bed. You listened while he tired to explain himself and tired to apologize. You had a quick shower and put on some underwear and a tshirt before putting your braids in your bonnet and getting into bed and going to sleep.

You woke up about and hour later, he was fast asleep. You put some shorts on and checked your phone. Sitting in your inbox was a post from your best friend. It’s a video of Lewis and while it didn’t show her face it was obvious that there was a woman sitting on his lap. You took a deep breath close it and put your earphones in. You went to the kitchen and grabbed some garbage bags and started cleaning up everything. When your alarm went off it brought you back to reality. You had disposed of everything and you were now wiping down the kitchen. You got to making breakfast. You made Lewis’s favorite. By the time you were finished he was up and standing by the table.

“ Good Morning” you said and kissed him on the cheek. “ I have a meeting at 10 but I’m free for the rest of the day so I’m thinking we can do a private screening of Avatar”

“ I’m sorry about last night” he said

“ Don’t worry about it “ you replied

“ Babe please don’t act like this get upset something” he plead.

“ Lewis I said it’s fine you’ve got nothing to worry about I’m going to have a quick shower while you work out and then imma do some work”

He watched you walk away completely shocked and confused. He was already feeling guilty knowing what he did but your reaction to last night was eating at him. This isn’t you he knew that.

In the bathroom with the door locked you were sitting on the floor with the box you removed from the closet in front of you with tears running down your face. Looking back at you was the tiny race suit and the card that said ‘Future World Champion coming July 2023’.

And all you could hope for was that the last 48 hours did not happen.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Band Dad Ashton Masterlist

Bittersweet - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) Luke/Ashton T, 20k

Summary: It’s not growing older that scares Luke. It’s that everyone else will outgrow him before he catches up.

If I Could Fly (ao3) - no_clue_who T, 2k

Summary: Ashton had been traveling. Michael had been traveling. Calum had been traveling. Luke knew in the back of his mind that his friends' lives had more to them than just him. The world didn’t revolve around him and him feeling less than stellar when all of their vacations accidentally lined up and he was alone.

And Luke was alone at home, his brain attacking him at every turn. He couldn’t look into a mirror or at the slowly growing pile of clothes on his bedroom floor, he barely dragged himself out of bed and when he finally did, he would forget to put any food or water into his body.

or Luke is feeling so much and nothing at all.

Lightweight - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 5k

Summary: Rule #1 of a night out; you don’t turn your back on drunk Luke Hemmings. You don’t do it.

Ashton swears he only turned his back for a second.

Lukey Boy - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 4k

Summary: Ashton brings Luke to Craft Club.

mirrorball (ao3) - no_clue_who T, 1k

Summary: The zoom call was less than ideal. They had been told that the tour was going to be pushed back, this summer is too soon for everything to be cleared out and safe. Ashton knew that they were all upset at what happened, Calum and Michael both hung up the second they could to cement how upset they were. Luke hadn’t said a word since they got told about the postponement, just sitting there in silence.

Rockstar - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) Ashton/OMC T, 5k

Summary: “I’m gonna buy you a drink.”

Ashton mumbles, his cheeks feeling hot and his body feeling lost, “Just one.”

And it really is just the one.

It’s just one drink.

sand falling through my fingers (ao3) - deserteyes Michael/Luke, Calum/Ashton G, 669

Summary: Ashton does some thinking while filming the Complete Mess music video.

Tailspin - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 5k

Summary: He’s not even sad. He’s just tired. And drunk. And lonely.

the fallout (ao3) - sunshineash Calum/Ashton T, 27k

Summary: The second Ashton saw the gun being pulled from the inside of a trench coat, he tried to run and tackle the kid to the ground, but it’d been too late. He was staring down the barrel of an unforgiving assault rifle and bullets were spiraling towards him before he even had the chance to scream for it to just stop. He remembers them tearing though his flesh, such unbelievable agony making a throat-ripping scream tear from his lips. He remembers the blood seeping through his shirt as he fell to the ground and feeling guilty because ‘fuck, this is Calum’s shirt. He’ll kill me for ruining it.’ But, then, the thought set in that Calum couldn’t kill him for it, because he’d already be dead.

or —

calum takes care of ashton after he’s been in a shooting

this is me trying (ao3) - no_clue_who M, 4k

Summary: He heard a soft knock on his door and then another flash of lighting. There's another knock, a little louder, and another clap of thunder. Ashton moved towards the front door and heard something before he opened the door, twisting the doorknob and opening it.

Luke was standing on his doorstep, slowly getting drenched with Petunia’s leash in his hands.

“Luke?”

“I’m,” was all Luke could get out before another clap of thunder rang out above and made Luke flitch.

Torn Up - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 8k

Summary: Ashton can pretend all he wants, but Michael isn't an idiot; he knows when something's wrong.

would you bail me out if i needed? (ao3) - bellawritess Michael/Ashton T, 1k

Summary: “They’re where?”

“In jail,” Calum sighs.

[skullrock]

I'm so sorry about your grandpa. Mine died 3 years ago, and I get how you feel. I was living with him my entire life until I moved out, but emotionally, we weren't close. So it was weird because I wasn't devastated and upset, I'm usually a very emotional person, but in that instance, idk why, but I wasn't. Which also made me feel really guilty. I also mostly mourned the what ifs with him, especially seeing other people being close with their grandparents.

Last year, my childhood cat died, and I'm still grieving him and I get very emotional talking about him, which makes me feel even more guilty because I'm okay now with my grandpa being gone. What I'm trying to say is grief is a weird thing, and you shouldn't beat yourself up too much for not being sad in the "correct way."

I'm also really sorry about your business and your boss being a bitch. I hope everything will work out. You absolutely deserve better. ❤️

i’m sorry for both of your losses :( grief is a weird thing!!! i’ve lost all of my grandparents in the span of a year and a half and i am just tired :/ i love you, i really appreciate this sweet message and i hope you’re doing as well as you can be doing!!!

[ryrysakura]

Trial 2 Voice Line.

(01) Greeting

(02) their reaction to whether they were voted forgiven / unforgiven

(03) things that changed between the two trials

(04) their feelings about the “extraction of songs”

(05) their feelings about Milgram

Prisoner 011: Kuma Oki

Voice Line :

1 - I’m Kuma Oki. Is that all ? My body itches when I see you, it's upsetting.

2 - Unforgivable… Despite doing the good things I’m unforgivable ? You’re still a naive kid so I understand.

3 - That’s right…the prison has changed lately… Me ? I didn’t change… Well, it’s true that I’m a bit tired…

4 - It felt like I was going outside my room. Judged by everyone. It’s a horrible experience.

5 - You didn’t get me… despite seeing everything you couldn’t get me… Milgram is truly unfair…

Prisoner 012 : Shi Rose

Voice Line :

1 - Still in your dream ? I’m Shi Rose. Your… partner… Forget what I just said…

2 - I was confident that you would want to work with me. I will try my best to give the “right” verdict to each prisoner. After all, you believe in me. I have no other choice than to do a good job.

3 - Now that I’m considered a warden the prison is quite different from the usual…. I can even enter your room actually… I would do it from time to time to see if you were resting well.

4 - Am quite sad that I can’t see what my song is about… But the others are really interesting… Do you mind if we talk about it ?

5 - Es, I swear to always be by your side. I wish you could trust me a little more…

Prisoner 13 : Kyoki Yuai

Voice Line:

1 - I’m Kyoki Yuai. You used to call me big brother. You don’t believe me ? Wow, your memory is really a mess… I’m joking, I'm joking ! It’s good to see you again, Es.

2 - Both of you and her didn't know what to vote for me… It’s okay. I was also there…

3 - I used to miss my family a lot but lately I only think about Mama Hera. She’s really the best ! I want to stay with her forever ! She’s nice, reads comics with me and takes care of me like her own child.

4 - Did you manage to see everything about me ? Even so, you couldn’t judge me ? Well, forget it, it's not like you could choose with what you saw.

5 - I don’t really want to leave Milgram… But, if Mama stays here she will break down…

Prisoner 14 : Hera Ai

1 - Again ? *sigh* I’m Hera Ai. It’s been a while I guess…

2 - Forgiven, huh. I see how it is… don’t worry I know I will end up guilty either way around.

3 - This prison was way more comfortable before… it’s not a good place for children to stay in. Stop your little game and put everything as they were.

4 - Seriously ? Did you really understand anything ? Then, you must be completely blind.

5 - You really like to take your sweet time… It feels like you're playing with me… it’s upsetting.

Prisoner 15 : Shun Hikari

Voice Line :

1 - I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze.I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze.I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze.I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze.I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze. I’m Quinze.

2 - U…unforgivable? W-Why ? What did I do to deserve all of this !? Even I won’t satisfy you ? Then, who will ? Tell me why you didn’t forgive me !

3 - I’m scared… I thought things were going nicely… what did I do wrong… why do they all hate me… why do you hate me Es… I thought we were friends…

4 - I don’t get it… I never said that I didn’t accept I was a murderer… not that Shun wasn’t me… just that I can’t be happy if I’m Shun… Was it wrong to expect to finally be happy like everyone else…

5 - I hate it there. It’s the worst. If the world hates me that much it should kill me from the start.

Prisoner 016 : Satoko Dokusousei

1 - Yahoo~ Honeybunny~ Your cute prisoner is there~ Satoko Dokusousei !

2 - So, I was wrong ! Oopsy daisy >_~

Too bad Milgram wasn’t there before hehe~

3 - I can’t help but be surprised by all this mess… seriously why did you do that when you did say I was wrong ? Eh ? Don’t look at me like that~ don’t act like you didn’t expect things to go like that. It's not cute at all.

4 - I don’t care. Like no interest in that. I mean what is done is done, it was wrong. End of the story. Let’s talk about all of this. And what you think about this.

5 - This place is quite messy, bad warden ! It’s not too late to make it good, okay ? Together~ hand in hand~ let’s all get along~

Prisoner 17 : Akito Usotsuki

1 - Hm.

2 - Unforgivable. I know.

3 - Rin and Shi both of them are crazy. You too.

4 - I don’t care about what you think.

5 - I killed and I ended up here so if I kill again what will happen ?

Prisoner 18 : Caramel Sato

1 - I know Es, I’m Caramel Sato…

It must be hard to accumulate all the information, right ? Who I was to you and who I am now are changing at this moment.

2 - You forgive me ? I told you to vote for everyone unforgivable. Did something change ? It doesn't seem like it in my case…

3 - The innocent prisoners have been doing like they wanted to… You really didn’t do a good job honestly look at Quinze and Akito… poor them…

4 - You look impatient to see me~ Well, I think Shi don’t share the feelings… I wonder why ?

5 - Let’s elope together, Es ! Don’t mess up. Okay ?

Prisoner 19 : Muse Nakamura

1 - YOU ! How dare you treat me like this ! HEY, ANSWER ME !

2 - I warned you, right ? You couldn’t blame me for what’s going to happen. Either way, all you know is blaming me for everything that happens when it’s not even my fault.

3 - Thanks to Shi, I understand your situation a bit so I will kindly forgive you only and IF only you don’t forgive Caramel. And, of course, forgive me this time and the next time too. Don’t you see how nice I am ? Not everyone would be that forgivable, right ?

4 - Is that thing even working ? I mean, try to use your head next time.

5 - I will wait to see if Milgram aligns with me this time. But I’m done warning you, there is no next time.

Prisoner 20 : Rin Fujiwara

1 - Rin Fujiwara, Warden… or should I start calling you Es ? After all, we’re friends, right ?

2 - See ? It feels great when things are done like we want them to be, right ? I saw that none of the men have been forgiven… it’s concerning so I had to learn about them…

3 - You didn’t ask for my help but Shi did so I help her ! These two Akito and Quinze didn’t want to listen… Thankfully, Akito answered in the end… but Quinze didn’t so I made sure he wouldn’t smile for now…

4 - I’m glad that we shared the same tastes in the end.

5 - With Shi, we made that place a place where they could be in security. Where no one will hurt us. I will protect this place with my life.

[blitz0hno]

posting for attention

i wrote down some stream of consciousness stuff. Maybe someone will relate. Please don't worry, they are only thoughts and feelings we are coping with.

TW// suicdal ideation, awful grammar, prayer (for my religious trauma girlies)

enjoy my suffering /gen

AAAAAAAAAAAAGH WHAT CAN I DO RN 

I CAN”T CALM TF DONW 

I CAN’T CAN’T I CAN’T 

I FEEL SO FAKE AND SO VIOLENT 

AND FUCKING INSANE 

AND LIKE MY LIFE IS FALLING TO PIECES 

NO MATTER WHAT I DO 

BECAUSE I CAN’T SEEM 

TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING 

OR DO ANYTHING OR ACT ON ANYTHING 

WE WANNA DO BC WE R SO SCARED 

OF POURING OUR HEART INTO SOMETHING 

AND BEING REJECTED

 F U C K IT HURTS IT HURTS THIS HELPED IG

IDK EVERYTHING HURTS

NOT EVERYTHING

UH I AM ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY GOOD

BUT THE FLASGBACKS NEED TO STOP 

THEY NEED TO STOP.

GOD HELP ME WHY AM I SO FUCKED UP 

I WANT TO FUCK UP ANYONE 

WHO WOULD DO THAT SHIT TO A KID 

WHY IS THIS EVER ALLOWED TO HAPPEN 

EVER WHY ARE SO MANY PEOPLE 

SO FUCKING TWISTED 

I JUST WANT IT TO STOP 

I WANT PEOPLE TO STOP 

HURTING EACH OTHER 

I WANT PEOPLE TO STOP

HURTING ME 

NO MATTER HOW MUCH I TRY TO AVOID IT. 

I AM NOT HERE RN 

I AM DISSOCIATING 

LIFE A MOTHERFUCKER

 AND I CANNOT DO THIS SHIT

 I NEED IT TO STOPPPPP

I WANNA FEEL BETTER

 I DON’T KNOW WHY I HAVE TO CARRY AROUND 

ALL THIS BULLSHIT

PEOPLE WHO HURT PEOPLE 

WILL GET WHAT’S COMING TO THEM 

BUT WHEN, WHEN????? 

I cannot rn, 

how are we gonna get our shit together 

when we’re burning the FUCK out? 

Ugh. 

deep breath, deep breath. 

There’s a hole of grief on my chest. 

My socks are wet. 

I wanna cry in the fuckin library, 

It’s too cold. 

I am scared.

my head hurts. 

I need to complain ig. 

Why do i do this? 

I have everything I could need 

but no matter how grateful 

i try to be, 

instead of getting a break 

i just get more and more piled on 

how tf did this happen 

why did we lose our job 

to some douchebag family member 

of the shittiest manager around 

oh my fucking god the cowardice 

and entitlement 

of all the soft fuckin SHITHEADS i keep meetign 

like PICK A STRUGGLE. 

I keep zoning out dear god 

let me find something to do with this rage 

stop the rain for two minutes 

I don’t want to drive 

i don’t want to think

and the visibility outside is awful 

WHY IS FEBRURARY LONG 

it’s longer this year 

I want spring 

I want sun 

I am sad that it’s getting warmer out 

and weather is getting extreme so 

I wish it was at least weather I like. 

My routine is shot, 

I have none. My phone is dead, 

doordash is too much energy rn. 

I am. 

Killing myself. 

Not really but 

jfc I am so tired 

in a way that weighs on you. 

And I feel survivor’s guilt 

about the whole fucking world. 

Guilt guilt guilt 

that is ALL we ever feel 

everything is our fault somehow and 

we can’t fix anything with that attitude 

I am so upset. 

Fuckin hell. 

Make it stop make it stop 

but don’t let me die 

I’m not ready. 

And I feel guilty for that too, 

because who IS ready? 

It just happens. 

And instead of happening to rapists and serial killers 

it happens to sweet people 

who made the world better. 

Fuck this. 

Where’s the divine punishment 

for the WORLD LEADERS????? 

What’s with the collective 

capitalist punishment? 

I constantly feel like 

I’ve done something wrong or bad. 

Constant. 

Stupid fucking axel, 

screaming in our face and starting this whole mess. 

My life is great overall 

but my heart and mind are fucked up rn.

Are you there god? It’s me.

And me. And me.

Etc..

I don’t wanna kill myself it just sounds really easy (it’s not you will not go out without a fight so it’ll just be a llot of medical bullshit.)

[chasing-rabbits]

.

And I can’t do this anymore and i don’t care to try anymore. I’m gonna be selfish for once and do what I want to do. Do I need to do for me for my sake for my mental health for my fucking peace of mind. I’m tired that I have to run every decision I ever make or every word I ever speak through a filter in my mind to make sure I’m pleasing everyone else to sanitise my feelings as to not hurt anyone else. I’m tired of not being able to be sad without my first thought being about other people. With my thoughts about what I can and can’t say or express. If I’m allowed to be upset if I’m allowed to be hurt and can I say I’m hurt. Can I speak my mind without being told I shouldn’t have because of how it makes others feel. I’m tired of those very same people expecting me to be strong for them because of their emotions everything about my depression and mental health is about everyone else. My depression is about how everyone else feels how it affects them. Things I can and cannot do things I can and cannot say because it could hurt others. I can feel like shit I can feel hurt by others actions I can feel sad and I can feel all these things for justifiable reasons I can be feeling perfectly normal things normal reactions to whats happening around me and how I”m treated I can be abused and treated like I’m dirt by my family but I can’t tell them how they hurt me all these years later because it makes them feel bad & guilty and hurt so I have to keep it all quiet or feel guilty everytime I let it slip. Everything I do is to please everyone else and what about me. WHAT ABOUT ME.

[i-hope-youre-hopeful]

Canada trip!

I’m so nervous. I feel so scared and out of place and I’m struggling to keep anxious thoughts at bay. I have those feelings lingering from earlier today. My mom was upset. She thought I hadn’t done enough. She didn’t thank me for all I did. Still, I’ve been nervous for weeks, and I’m thrilled to get this over with. I want to enjoy every moment of this for what it is. It is space. It is time away. It is time with some of my most beloved people in this world - the people who know me better than almost anyone. It is an adventure and an opportunity to grow and be blessed and to bless others. I want to use this time wisely. I’m just scared.

God, I am not trusting you fully. I’m bad at that. But I’m trying. I am not trusting that you will provide for my needs or that you will keep me safe from harm or discomfort. But that is wrong. I am sorry that I struggle so much to trust in your will. Please help me to have your peace and to remember that your will is the best possible place to be. Help me have your desires and think your thoughts, and where there is hidden distrust and anxiety shine your light of truth. Protect my friends and I, provide for my needs, and hold my family extra close and extra comfortable while I’m away. Please help me trust and not be afraid. Help me be joyful, be loving, be excited, and take this trip for what it is. Help it to go as smoothly as possible and when it’s time to go home help that transition to go smoothly too. Help me. Thank you that you have already provided so well and guided me and protected us. Thank you for this opportunity and for this life. Please help me not to feel guilty or scared of feeling joy. And when things don’t go the way I expect or the way I’d prefer, help us get through and help me remember that your will is above mine and that you work all things for good. I love you lord. I’m scared. But I love you. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.

I survived! I slept! I got lots of good food and the airport experience so far has been easy and smooth. I am sitting with Sydney and playing little games and talking and eating snacks. We are beginning our descent into Montreal. I felt panicked but I am feeling better for this moment. My ears don’t hurt. I am alive. I am grateful. I love you Lord. Thank you. Please keep protecting us. Thank you for your provision, your love, your peace, and the amazing people I have in my life. I love them and I love you. I’m sorry and I thank you. Hold my hand. I love you.

I survived the whole trip and I’m home! It was hard but it was good. I feel a little bad that I hardly did anything. Everyone else planned and coordinated and I just kind of showed up. I hope they don’t feel like I didn’t contribute anything. It was tiring and scary but you protected me and held me so close and helped me feel so happy and loved. You got me home safe and although there was trouble I never felt out of your sight. I never felt like we weren’t where we were supposed to be. The difficulty of the trip home made the transition into being home easier, and I believe you did that on purpose. Thank you. I know the long wait in the airport was stressful and the drive was tiring and the leaving was sad but all I want to remember is hugging my friends and sitting and playing and talking and laughing about how bad everything was. I will remember sharing a pizza with Cynthia and playing Guess Who I’m Thinking Of and writing Mad Libs with Sydney and giggling in the desolate airport while we talked about how scary the plane was. The rest I will remember as a new experience and a secret blessing. It was hard and I’m glad it’s over and I’m so glad I did it.

Thank you for giving me such joyful, loving, kindhearted people. There was never a moment that I felt left out or unsupported. Problems were met without judgment and conflict was handled quickly and put away. There was never much time between talking and laughter, and I must’ve thought at least 5 times a day that we probably seemed like we were on drugs to the general public because of how loud we laughed and how happily we did everything. I remember walking through the airport in the middle of the night and seeing on my friends’ faces how tired and distressed they had been and feeling like we were barely making it and all of us talking about the stress and the sadness and the fear, but we were all laughing. We were all encouraging each other and enjoying being together anyway. I remember sitting in the bathroom and brushing my hair after a shower and hearing everyone shouting at each other over a Jackbox game and laughing almost constantly and thinking that it just didn’t get better than that. And it doesn’t. To hear your loved ones loving each other and being together is a beautiful blessing. I got to experience family again, even if only for a little while. This too may pass away, but it was real, and it is real, and it is a reflection of your love for us, and I cant thank you enough for your love for us. I hope I loved them like you would. I hope I loved well.

I thank you for the incredible blessings and opportunities you’ve given me. You are good. You are good. You are good!

[cyber-ii3]

today I'm mad at jace and Connor. Lately ive been reaching my wits end with them because i havent been liking the way they've been treating me, but i think i was pushed over the edge when Connor started being mean to my boyfriend. Earlier I asked Connor why he wasn’t including my boyfriend in our group calls and he was extremely rude by saying he didnt want him there and that he didnt want to talk to him. I thought they had a good relationship because they were having a good conversation at the party and my boyfriend thinks really highly of Connor so I felt really hurt when i realized that those feelings weren't reciprocated. I really wanted my friends to make an effort to be nice to my boyfriend but lately it feels like they've been shitting on him. Robert and Connor keep telling me my boyfriend is gay or is a twink and they keep making gay jokes about it but its making me uncomfortable. Every time i get mad they just laugh at me and its been really making me mad and sad for my poor boyfriend who has been trying really hard to be their friends. I really hate how they disrespect them like that and ive been expressing how irritated at Connor i am but jace is getting defensive. It makes me mad because they agree with everything Connor says, but when I insult Connor, jace gets mad at me. Its so hypocritical and I'm honestly just done and put up with their double standards. I also cant handle jace’s outbursts anymore. When theyre mad, they take it out on everyone around them, including me, and they never apologize for it. One day, I noticed jace was stressed at work so I asked how they were feeling and they told me to shut up and never ask them a stupid ass question like that ever again. It really hurt my feelings because I was really worried about them, and I know they were stressed but I didnt do anything to them. Even if they were stressed, they were treating their boyfriend kindly and even laughing with him. If you’re so stressed why can you offer connor a bit of kindness and not me? I thought we were suppose to be friends. Thats why I removed jace off of my spam. Im slowly trying to put distance between us because we still work together and I know its gonna be awkward but im just tired of feeling like I did something wrong or being used as a human punching bag. Even now, after I removed jace from my rant account, they immediately messaged me and they were angry. They accused me of venting about them when I wasnt. All I did was post that I didnt like how people were purposely trying to piss me off. The messages they sent made me feel extremely sad and guilty and i ended up ranting to my boyfriend about how sad I feel and I dont want to put that on him. Dealing with jace can be really exhausting and I hate how they put their boyfriends feelings first in front of everyone elses even if he started the fight. I overall just feel extremely sad that if its between me and connor, jace no longer sees me as a friend but as an enemy. Im more upset that jace always takes out their anger on me. They never snap at chloe or Mishi, its always me. I dont understand. Why is it always me that does something wrong? Is it because Jace knows I wont leave even if they hurt my feelings? Im tired of it. All I need is my boyfriend. I wish I could stay friends with mishi and chlo without having to talk to Jace. Im so upset that things turned out this way I even want to cry. I have feelings too. I cant just laugh everything off. I am especially hurt if you make fun of someone I love and care about so much. Im gonna take a break from instagram. 

[hannahsmusings]

Jackson

*Jackson swallowed thickly as he heard your words, obviously not knowing what the other person - Matt - was saying on the other line, but it sounded like he was wounding you and Jackson felt anger surge through his body, not liking that this man seemed to call to just make you upset, especially your partner who was supposed to be understanding and supportive, but this sounded like the opposite* *his eyes widened a bit as you talk about not being allowed to sleep in your own bed, realizing that this was much bigger and deeper than he originally thought, figuring you two must’ve had an argument or something to lead to this point, not believing you to be the type of woman to stay with a man who treated you like that all the time, something must’ve happened* *he was fighting every instinct right now, wanting to stomp out into the hallway and grab your phone and toss it out the window, not wanting you to be berated by this person any longer, wanting to protect you from his harshness, on some deep level wishing he had someone to do that for him when his father turned his wrath towards his own son*

*it made Matt sick to know that you did indeed not want to be here, you wanted to be there, you preferred Ford’s company over his and you just solidified it for him, his stomach turning sour and his anger doubling* If you were actually at home and chose me once in a while, I wouldn’t have to go to such extremes, would I? I need to do something to get it through your head. You’re just seeing everything from your point of view, you’re being fucking selfish, Hannah. There are other jobs out there. If you hated my job so much, if you never saw me, if I was always at some woman’s house doing her bidding and god knows what else, you’d feel the same way. At least, the old version of you would give a shit… not too sure about this one anymore. You seem quite content without me. *he didn’t even care that he was crossing so many lines, this relationship couldn’t be salvaged in his mind as soon he woke up and found you gone this morning, knowing that there was nothing you could do to fix this unless you quit that job* I’m tired too, Hannah. I’m tired of being second best to that man, I’m tired of being alone, I’m tired about worrying about you, I’m tired of all of this. So welcome to the club. *he lets out an exhausted sigh, trying to control his own emotions, being so hurt and sad underneath all the rage and anger he was throwing at you, it being a defense mechanism* I can’t do it anymore, Hannah… if you aren’t going to come home or let me come get you, I don’t know what else there is to do. You’re drawing a line in the sand and I’m not going to cross it because you obviously don’t want me to. 

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*flinches at your harsh tone, stomach dropping when you call me selfish, it feeling like such a punch in the gut because I never considered myself a selfish person, always trying to think about you and your feelings and it felt like that was thrown back in my face, not ever expecting you’d be this way with me and it was breaking me, only wanting your support whilst I chased my dream* *eyes well up with tears, hating that you were having this affect on me sniffing quietly* You’re making this personal when it’s not. Matt, p-please. *tears fall and my voice was thick with them, knowing you had a problem with the job but truly confused about why you were angry with me about not coming home now, it being a literal storm outside* W-What do you want from me? You want me to walk 2 hours in a blizzard? Is that what you want? You want me to feel guilty? You punish me every god damn day I work this job! You’re making me fucking miserable. I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to come home and be with you. I c-can’t... I can’t d-do this...*voice breaks as I let out a quiet sob, the anger and upset and hurt bursting from me, wanting to fight for this but you were treating me like shit*