#Tired was Always the Best Answer we could give Without Lying

[torao-chan]

man idk what to tell yall

im just. exhausted atm

[chastiefoul]

0:56 a.m. | nanami kento

0.6k words

“kento,” you whispered into the silence of the night and the dimmed lights on your room. It’s been way past midnight and you hadn’t been able to sleep, contrary to your boyfriend who’s lying beside you—his breath steady and calm.

when your voice didn’t budge him out of his slumber you tried once more.

“kento.” this time a little louder.

he then muttered an inaudible word, still closing his eyes. his hand wandered though, tightening his hold around the back of your shoulder; bringing you close to his chest. better, but the gesture was not enough for you who’s not feeling even a little sleepy, as mischief ideas filled your head.

third time’s a charm, they said. so you called him once more.

this time it finally did something as he hummed a reply, his free hand rubbed your side in a calming pattern, his hand went underneath your shirt that’s all rode up. he settled his grip just an inch under your chest, his thumb slowly moved up and down. “that tickles,” you said as you put a hand over his, refraining his little movement. Although, you’re sure he could hear the smile on your voice.

he finally opened his eyes as he gave you a lazy little smile and you swore you didn’t remember seeing anything more gorgeous than that. “why aren’t you asleep, hm?” his voice a tone heavier than usual, a tad husky as it laced deep with sleep. “i can’t sleep,” you whispered, like telling a secret to your best friends in a slumber party. “right. so i don’t get to either, yeah?” he replied, a smile on his face; and it’s only fondness shine across his feature.

“i mean, i understand if the old man needs his sleep even though tomorrow’s weekend. so by all means,” you said playfully, and that earned a deep chuckle from him. “don’t tease, who said we should have an early night today?” he raised an eyebrow, and for such a calm sleeper he now couldn’t stop his wandering hand as he’s diligent on giving you back-scratches—not that you’re complaining. “yes, but that was before my confidence in being able to fall asleep crumbled right before my eyes,” you claimed, feigning a serious tone. “i see, my mistake.” his eyes narrowed affectionately and you had a feeling you could say the dumbest excuse and he’d let you get away with anything.

you felt the need to sit up and do something but before you could even do that he held you down gently. “none of that, you’ll feel even more restless, love.” you couldn’t even protest at that since you knew he’s always right. “then what do you suggest we do now?”

“it’s a we problem now, hm?” he stared at you in amusement, knowing who dragged him into the sleepless night as well was none other than you. “is that a complaint i hear?” you threw him a questioning look. “it’s excitement, of course.” he laughed softly as he stroke your hair ever-so-gently.

“i should just start rambling maybe it’ll get me tired,” you said randomly and he just nodded without offering any question. “sure, i’m listening.” his hand didn’t stop moving. “where should i start?” you asked, relying on his answer. And of course it came easy for the man who seemed like he knew all the right words. “start anywhere, love. you could repeat anything, skipped over some words, or even tell it backwards and i’ll be here to point it out,” he said lovingly.

and you don’t know if it’s just his power you didn’t know about but it’s not even ten minutes after you started talking and as he kept doing the little gesture you could feel the sleepiness coming, welcoming you to one of your best slumber in a while.

--

idk how it took me this long to write this man. i love him so much.

[sinful-lanterns]

Cabernet defiantly loves giving head, like she is a God at eating pussy and she would definitely love it for us to sit on her face. This thought made me think of a scenario in the Uni Au where Cabernet asked us to sit on her face and after a bit coercement we agreed. She got so excited she rused to lay on her back and held out her hands to help us position ourselves. But when we came down we were doing that thing where girls hover over their partners head so that they wouldn't crush them with their full weight and this pissed Cabernet off.

"What are you doing?"

"Im doing what you asked?"

"No no, if you were doing what I asked you'd be sitting, not doing this hovering shit."

"I just dont want to crush your face and suffocate you-"

"And? Let me suffocate! Im a big girl, I can handle some smothering!"

This arguing went on for a bit and eventually Cabernet grew tired and too horny for our concerns that she just ended up looping her arms around and over our legs and pulled us down causing us to pit our full weight onto her face. Obviously we tried to lift ourselves back up but Cabernet was holding us down with an iron grip and pleasure she was giving us was starting to turn our legs to jelly so we couldn't hold ourselves back up again even if we wanted to. We obviously went into over stimulation so our body was naturally trying to jerk away but Cabernet kept us right were she wanted us with an iron and horny filled grip. The pleasure we were getting made us grab onto the back board of the bed for dear life and grip it even harder at each orgasm. And by the 5 th orgasm, the most powerful one we've had yet, we felt something slpash against our back. We looked back and it was Cabernet's semen that was coating our back. She was still ejaculating too as we looked back watching, seeing rope after rope of cum escaping her tip to hit against our skin. The best thing about this was that she didn't touch herself at all and she came A LOT. Cabernet found so much arousal and pleasure in stuffing her face into our cut and eating us like a man starved that she came without any stimulation to herself.

She just loves our pussy that much.

Hey. What have you done to me? You’ve completely changed my brain structure because Cabernet is my favorite PTN woman 😨

I have…I have no words. Just keep reading.

nsfw under the cut (men and minors dni)

The first time Cabernet asked you to sit on her face, you said no. That was the first time you ever said no to her request, and yet it was one she really wanted to do. Her eyebrows furrowed and she asked again, yet the answer was always the same.

“No Cabernet, I don’t want to hurt you with my weight.”

Poor Cabernet was ticked off that you’d ever think about hurting her with that delicious body of yours. If her body paid the price of having your mouthwatering pussy shoved up against her face, then it was a price worth paying for, as Cabernet was getting more ravenous by the minute. Every time you said no, Cabernet would get hungrier. Until eventually, while you were getting busy in the bedroom, Cabernet yanked your hand up to hover over her lying body, the both of you naked and sweaty from all your previous rounds.

“Sit on my face.” Cabernet asked— no, more like demanded. Her expression impatient and tongue flitting out for your juices.

“Cabernet, I don’t want to crush you—”

“I don’t care.”

Her voice was stern, almost annoyed that you’d hesitate this much before gripping your thighs with each manicured hand, and forcing you down to meet her mouth in a burning, passionate ecstasy.

Since when did Cabernet get so strong? You wondered this, as you gasped and tried desperately to stand for fear that you might be suffocating poor Cabernet. She was a delicate lady after all, so you should hurry and—

Goodness why was she so strong? Why was she gripping you so hard, you could barely move? Through your moans of blissful pleasure, you looked down to see Cabernet’s absolute blissed out expression. She looked delirious, eyes fluttering back in pleasure as she moaned through your folds and licked you up like a Michelin star meal that was worth hundreds.

She has never eaten you out like this before. Nails gripping the soft plush of your thighs, keeping you firmly sat on her face while she parts your walls with her tongue to reach that sweet spot she so desperately craved. The main star of the dish, the core of the apple, the feast that she had been starving for all this time.

The sweet, succulent juice of your orgasm.

Cabernet’s cock was practically swollen with arousal at the thought of it. Mind going numb while she ate you out in a drunken state. With every moan and whimper that left your lips, Cabernet countered with a grunt and growl of her throat. At the first gush of your first orgasm, Cabernet was practically moaning. The taste was so delightfully pleasant, the unique flavor of your body’s natural reaction to her and her alone. It was addicting, it was beautiful.

She craved more. More, more, more.

As you tried to get up, pussy overstimulated and puffy from her tongue, you whined when she suddenly pulled you back down for more.

“Another. Give me another.”

Was she pussydrunk? You couldn’t tell as the rough caresses of Cabernet’s eager tongue pulsed in and out of you with the eagerness of a starved man who had just been given a plate of food. You’re on the brink of teetering over the edge, unsure of how many times Cabernet had made you cum from just her tongue alone…

Four…five? You could almost pass out from bliss when you suddenly felt the hot shots of Cabernet’s cum shooting across your back. As you look back, you see just how erect and red Cabernet’s cock was. Tip all pink while it shot her hot seed all over your body, and making you clench from the sight, as you had no idea Cabernet was this turned on just by the taste of you.

She hadn’t even touched herself once. No strokes, no squeezes, only the pure ecstasy of eating you out was enough to get Cabernet oozing loads…

It’s safe to say that you’re no longer conscious of sitting on Cabernet’s face if she enjoys it this much 💘

[tcubunny]

switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

[meowhara]

when will we get to see mafia miguel x bunny reader again I’m wanna read more also love ur fictional stories ❤️❤️

thank you so so much for liking any of my stories and as another form of apology for my disappearance, I made a little drabble for our beloved bunny reader!

‎‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲? 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲?

♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ mafia!miguel o'hara x hybrid!bunny reader

cw : miguel's ex (I just feel like this should be a warning)

you were waiting for Miguel to come home from work when all of the sudden an uninvited guest barged her way in into his place

You’re just being dramatic, you thought. He was just going to work, the only time where he would never allow you to be by his side. His answer never changed. A big no to every promise you made to behave your best so you could come with him throughout the day. 

The slow mornings are your favorite. Being awoken to Miguel’s lazy yet loving kisses. Tender kisses planted all over your face. You wish it could always be like this. Yet goodbyes always sneaked its way into your life. 

It feels lonely without him. He is all you dedicated yourself to. It was what you have been taught from the start. Loyalty, beyond everything. 

You lie on his bed alone. His side of the bed was cold, all warmth gone from being abandoned for hours on end. You weren’t the type to be a clingy one but his attention makes you feel safe. His actions screamed promises that he would never leave you again. That he would shower you with love and care, the only thing you never thought you would experience.

They’d shrug whenever you asked when he’ll come back. Giving you no reassurance whatsoever. Therefore, you need to reassure yourself. Bewilderment across their faces the moment you come out from his room. How on Earth did Miguel’s coat end up in your hands? You obviously wouldn’t tell them. But right now you needed a tingle of his existence with you, his scent. They did try to take it away from you, but you were so persistent and won’t let go of the massive piece of clothing that fits you like a dress. Guess the best idea is to let you have it all to yourself, rather than having their heads ripped off from making you cry by their own boss. 

So here you are, curling up on the couch, drowned by the massive coat that covers almost the entirety of your body. The gentle conversations from the TV in the background filled your ears. Your head buried into the fine material the coat made out of. 

“Ma’am, please leave. Boss is not here at the moment.” A man’s muffled voice can be heard from outside the front door, making you shoot your head up in curiosity. “You’re lying! I know he’s inside! He’s just avoiding me like the motherfucking coward he is!” Another voice replied and it’s a woman’s voice. The door slammed open before a woman with light skin tone and short brown hair just about her shoulder rushed into the house in an aggressive manner. “Where is he? O’Hara!” She shouted, looking absolutely furious. His underling just sighs. Too tired to deal with the stone head of a woman. “Please leave. He doesn’t want you here.” The man spoke, forcing gentleness into his voice. Just who is this woman? Barging into someone’s house like it was hers in the first place. “I’m not leaving until I force a slap into that fucker’s face. And don’t you dare tell me what to do. You’re nobody but a loyal dog that works for him.” She sounded like a little kid. Throwing a tantrum after not getting what she wanted. 

Her heels clicked on the floor in hurry, passing by the living room where you’re curled up in before she paused on her tracks.

“Who is that?” 

“Nobody. Now please leave.” He raised his voice. Patience wearing thin from how stubborn she is.

“You’re telling me, nobody is sitting in there right now as we talk?” She pushed the man aside by his shoulder before making her entrance into the living room. 

After a second of silence in between both of you, you stood up to your feet. Feeling the need to say something in order not to come out as rude. “Hello…” You greeted meekly. Her eyes scanned over you as she stood there with her hand on her hip. Your bunny ears were so strange in her eyes.

She recognizes the coat that was resting on your small form. It's his and he would never let any soul touch anything that was his, unless… “Take it off.” She commanded but you shook your head in refusal. “I said take it off. Before I rip it off of you.” She scoffed at your attempt to keep it to yourself before walking over towards you and started pulling on the coat. “If I told you to take it off. Then take. It. Off''

“Ma’am—“ The moment the insolent woman laid her hands on you, Miguel’s men tried to stop her by pulling her off of you. But she didn’t budge, “Don’t touch me! You have no right to touch me.” She slapped the man’s grip away until all he could do now is to watch her assaulting your innocence. 

She continued to yank the piece of clothing off until your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re clutching onto it. You eventually gave up, letting her forcefully snatch the coat off your body. You thought she’d just left after all of that, but she’s not done. Your presence was like the fuel to her hatred and anger towards Miguel. So she decided to put an end to this and claim her rightful place again by his side. And the only thing stopping her to do so is you. What kind of girl are you anyway that Miguel chose you over her? She panted and threw the coat aside before she regained her composure. You keep your head low. Making eye contact with the beast is the last thing you want to do. 

“Leave.”, She waited for you to move your legs and leave. Not from the living room, but from his house. She waited and still didn’t get any reaction from you. She expected you to just scramble off like the loser of a girl you are. Instead of scrambling off you stood there quietly, worsening her madness. Her hand made its way onto your face. Gripping both of your cheeks tight with her palm and forcing you to look into your eyes. She’s satisfied over tears in your eyes, satisfied that she successfully made you cry over something like this. 

“Leave this house and I won’t hurt you.” She threatened and it surprised her when you pushed her off and tried to run but she yanked your hand and pulled on one of your fluffy ears. Forcing you to stand still in front of her. “Listen here, you little pest. Miguel doesn’t love you. So don’t get any idea in that little head of yours, that he would actually keep you.”

You fighting back instead of running was the least thing she expected you to do. Yet your claws dug deep into her hand which was still tightly gripping your ear earning a loud whine from how painful her doing is towards you. “You little—“, She hissed through gritted teeth. Her free hand raised high in the air, prepared to slap you. 

However, the quick motion of her hand was interrupted. She froze right there and then when she saw no other but Miguel stood in front of her with her free hand trapped in his tight grip. “M— Miguel.” She stuttered and let go of your ear. The smile on her face was dismissed by a hard slap across her face. Miguel slapped her, hard enough to return her senses into her mind. She stumbled back when he let her hand go. She stood there in silence with her palm resting on the same spot on her cheek where Miguel had slapped her. “How dare you!” She squealed. 

He stood there with such a calm manner, though both you and Dana knew that calmness was never a good thing when it comes to Miguel and this kind of situation. He turned his back on her and crouched beside you as you cried on the floor. The way he tried to gently soothe you were like daggers stabbed into her heart. She couldn’t believe he would stoop so low and replace her with someone else like you. Someone who’s weak and clinging onto him like a leaf that was to be blown away by the wind. 

“After all this time, you’re going to throw me away just like this?!” She shouted, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. “I bet that you don’t even love her. You’re just using her for her body! The only reason for you to keep her is only because you enjoy fucking her! Then you’ll abandon her like you did to me! You’re supposed to love me, not her…” 

“Can’t you see that I’m here for you? Miguel?!” He stood up and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close so that their faces were almost touching. “I didn’t abandon you. You did. You cheated. You think I didn’t know about you dating my brother behind my back?” Her body felt weak the moment truth escaped through the mouth of the man she once dated. “You should be grateful that I didn’t take matters into my own hands and pushed you away instead. But you still dare to barge into my house and harassed her?!” His breath hits her face as he continues to yell at her like rays of anger. “I loved you and this is how you pay me back? Answer me, Dana!” 

The room falls quiet after his roar has died down. “Leave… And never come back. I never wanted to see you again.” He growls into her ear before pushing her away by the shoulder. His words broke her down into tears before she ran off and slammed his front door hard then drove off.

He took his place once again by your side as you tensed up in fear after watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your own eyes, once again dropping your head down and it has been an ongoing habit by now. “Love? What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, making sure that you’re okay or he might have to take a visit to that bitch Dana. He saw how tense you are. Probably shocked from how harsh he treated his own ex. “You hit her…” 

“I know baby, I have to.” 

“But you said— you said you would never hit a woman.” You said in between sobs.

“She’s no woman if she tries to hurt you, she’s a monster. I’m doing this for you. So you’ll always stay safe. I would never hit you nor hurt you, that I promise.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course baby.” He kisses you tears away before taking his coat and scooping you into it with one force. Turning you into his little burrito, wrapped up in his coat. A couple giggles erupted from your mouth. He carried you in his arms and started walking upstairs. “I see you dare to get your hands on my coat.”

“You were gone for so long.” You whine. 

He laughed, “I was only gone for the day, it’s not that long.”

He opened the bedroom door before setting you down slowly on the bed then lay down beside you. “Let me make it up to you, what do you say baby?”

a/n : I guess there's only one thing that the whole miguel o'hara fandom could agree on. the fact that we all hate dana d'angelo

[hotchsreader]

You’re my Last Call

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hotch had broken up over a month ago. Once he broke up with you, he disappeared, absolutely no contact with you anymore. You didn’t know why, there were no signs he was unhappy until he just broke off everything. Up until a freak accident happens, you thought you had lost the love of your life. What if that was never the case, and he just thought you’d be better off without his sadness?

trigger warning: car accident

read on ao3 here

Now there's blood on the windshield

And there's credit cards on the floor

And I'm crawling out the window of my passenger side door

Your picture's on the dashboard and that's the only thing I saw

You were always first to catch me when I fall

Yeah, I'm sorry you were my last call

- Lyrics from the song 3/13 by Wyatt Flores

Hotch was trying to remind himself of the good days when things felt less heavy and he could have a clear head. These days? Everything felt so heavy that he didn’t know if it was possible not to be stressed out. He had broken up with you weeks ago. Maybe it has been a month already, he was unsure at this point. He knew that his presence was a downer to everyone around him, and you had been too much of a light in the world to let him dull you. He loved you so much, but he knew that letting you go would be the best option for you to succeed.

Everything felt like it was going so slowly. He had left the office about an hour ago and was headed toward the victim's house to do one last walk-through to see if there was anything that the local police had missed. He knew exactly where he was going as he and the team had been there before, so he did not even tell anyone he was going there or put the location in his GPS. He had been paying attention, he wasn't too tired, he had slept pretty well the night before, and nothing but you were on his mind. He looked down at his dashboard, to see the photo of you he kept there. Even though he left, he kept you with him. He always wanted to keep you with him, other than Jack, you were his biggest source of happiness. He had looked down for a split second, but apparently, that was enough time for a far to cross into Hotch’s lane and slammed him into the wall lining the highway.

-

After the car crashed, Hotch couldn’t remember anything until he felt himself on the concrete ground and saw random faces flashing back and forth over the top of him.

“Sir. Is there anyone we can call for you?” They asked hoping to get an answer from the man lying in front of them. They knew there was a strong chance there was a concussion.

Hotch could hardly muster up many words, all he said was your name. Your name and said check the phone.

-

You were at work. Everyone else had started going home, and the law office was closed for the day. There wasn’t any noise as you sat typing your last report on your laptop, it seemed peaceful almost. That was until, your phone started ringing incredibly loud, piercing through the silence.

“Maam. This is Officer Finch. I have a man here by the name of Aaron Hotchner, he was in a car accident. He gave us you to call.”

“Where is he? He is a Federal Agent.”

Before the officer even finished giving you the details of where Aaron was, you had already grabbed all of your things and ran out of the office. By the time you hung up with him, you were only ten minutes away.

Nothing would stop you from getting to him. Nothing that happened between the two of you would make you not rush to his side. He was, and would always be, your person.

When you got there, the first thing you noticed were the lights and the sirens. It brought back so many memories from when Hotch was hurt by Foyet. your heart was pounding in your chest and you just needed to find him to see that he was okay. an officer waved you over, and you saw him lying on the ground. There was a cut across his forehead, and his eyes were grimacing like he was in pain. It was killing you, even though you hadn’t even fully gotten up to him to see him in that kind of condition. He looked almost pitiful. you weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him because of how badly he had hurt you so you stood and talked to the paramedics who said that it was most likely that he had a concussion, but that he was going to be fine he was very lucky. The person had crossed his lane of traffic and when they did, it caused his car to swerve headfirst into the highway wall.

You heard a soft voice call your name. It was very quiet, almost like it was reserved. They didn’t want to be calling your name. They didn’t want you to know that they needed you at this moment. you didn’t know what to do because doing this was wrong to be an emergency contact on a person who had tried so hard to remove you from their life. One day everything was okay, holding hands laughing together, knowing each other’s favorite orders at the coffee shop, to not even a phone call explaining why everything ended with a snap of a finger.

“Yeah, Aaron I’m here,” you said softly in his ear, as you finally walked over to him, kneeling next to him and running your hands through his hair. That was always a small comfort for him when he really needed somebody he loved you running your fingers through his hair.

“ I am so sorry but you were the only person I wanted to be here, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from right now.” His voice was still very soft, almost like it hurt to speak and he wanted to tell him to stop talking to focus on getting to the hospital, but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. Selfish as it was, you wanted to know why. Why did he end everything? Why did he act like he didn’t exist after two years of a beautiful relationship, why did he call you now he had his whole team that would break down walls to get to him if they knew something was wrong? Why did he call you a person who genuinely couldn’t do anything but be there for him?

“We will talk when you’re able to form a coherent sentence, Aaron, I'm here now and I’m definitely not leaving until I know you’re okay.” You rubbed his face with your hand, and he pressed his face into your palm.

you sat there as they loaded him into the ambulance and asked if you were allowed to ride along. They said yes, considering it was not life-threatening. You could drop your car at a gas station and they would come by and pick you up to take you with him. you did not want to be where you couldn’t see him, but you trusted the paramedics to take care of him for the five minutes he would be out of your line of sight. once you got into your car, you texted the team. You still had all of their phone numbers in case of emergency to let them know what was going on and your phone started ringing off the hook.

“What is going on?” JJ was on the other side of the phone. her voice made you calm down a little bit. The two of you had become very close friends during your relationship with Aaron and even after he had broken up with you JJ always kept in contact.

“They said that a car came into his lane and knocked him into the highway wall. He was conscious and able to talk, and I went with him to the hospital. I have to drop my car off at a gas station so it wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the highway.” You responded, your voice becoming wobbly during your explanation.

She gulped pretty heavily, you knew this was hard for her to hear. as well. “Do you want me to come up? I’m more than willing to come and just be a helping hand for you. I could be the communication between the team to let them know how he’s doing so you don’t have to constantly be on your phone and keep everyone updated. I can do it for you.” She knew how hard this was for you, and that small gesture would be such a relief, and would take so much off your plate that you didn’t even know how to deal with it.

“JJ you mean the world to me. Could you also contact Jessica and let her know what’s going on? I really don’t wanna have to call her even though I love her. This is just so much and I need to check on him and be with him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” She said you could feel how genuine she was in the last few words. Meeting Aaron was one of the best things that ever happened to you, but meeting her was a close second. You reciprocated and hung up the phone, got to the gas station, got into the ambulance, and off to the hospital you went. You held on to Hotch’s hand the entire time.

-

The next three hours consisted of people running in and out of the hospital room, checking on Hotch, readjusting him, checking his vitals, and it felt like almost complete chaos. The minute JJ got there you could almost cry out of relief. You needed someone else there, to make this seem like less of a fever-induced dream. To bring you back to reality, almost like a shared experience instead of being alone in a hospital room with the love of your life being poked and prodded by hospital staff.

“Hi sweetie,” JJ says as she walks into the room, tears in her eyes as she looks over at Hotch. You know the two of them are close, he always has talked highly of her.

“Hi.” This was the first time you have heard your own voice in hours and it sounded almost foreign to you. It sounded defeated and hurt.

“Why are you here JJ?” This caused you to jump. Hotch had not spoken the entire three hours until JJ walked into the room. Did he just not want to speak to you? If this was the case, why did he ask everyone to call you? You turned your head over to him, a look of hurt running over your face. He noticed immediately and turned his head away from you to look at JJ.

“You know what, I’m going to go call the team, I’ll be back in a minute. You better prepare yourself for Garcia to run in here with balloons in snacks in a few hours Hotch.” She tried to make the atmosphere less tense before she left, but the hurt and anger in you could physically feel it.

You stood up, walked over to Hotch, and put your hand under his chin, and made him look at you. He stared at you for a minute, tears gathering in his eyes as he did and he tried to open his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him get that far.

“Absolutely not, you do not get to speak right now Aaron Hotchner. You do not get to be the first one to speak after what you have put me through in the last few hours. I get to speak first.”

He nodded at you, tears slipping from his eyes.

“You LEFT me with no explanation. You are the love of my life. I would lay down everything I am and will be to make sure you and Jack are safe and happy. I did nothing wrong to deserve to be deserted. I did nothing, Aaron. I love you so much, I will love you until the day I die. Why would you have them call me? Why would you do what you did?” At this point, you were sobbing, and the last few words that came out of your mouth were gargled.

Hotch raised his hand and wiped the tears from your cheek, you wanted to turn away but your brain and arm betrayed you and you raised your hand up to hold his while it was on your face.

“Honey, it had nothing to do with you. You are the most beautiful, loving, caring person in this world.”

“But then why? What was wrong? What happened to us?”

“It was me. I was bringing you down. I was making everything worse. I didn't want to ruin your life with my hurt.” The last few words were barely a whisper.

You looked up, for the first time since this conversation started, and looked at the man in front of you. He was crying, tears falling down the side of his face onto the pillow. He was gripping your hard really hard, the ring on your fingers digging into your skin. He looked pitiful. He was heartbroken, not just because of what currently happened but because of everything going on in his head. You had wished he would’ve told you this a lot sooner. So much hurt could have been prevented if he had just been honest with you. But you knew this man, you knew he would hide things so deeply inside himself if it meant no one else had to get hurt. You knew he would hide things if it meant you would be protected from the harsh realities.

“Aaron. You are and will always be my world. If something is bothering you, I would like to talk about it. I would like to be able to be there for you if you would let me be. Please, just talk to me. Let me be there for you.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your palm. His face was flush from the accident and from the tears. He felt, defeated.

“I don’t want anyone to have to deal with me. Especially not someone who has so much to offer this world. I am just a mess of a man. You were the last person I wanted to call because I do not want you to have to clean up after me.”

“If loving you means I have to be there for everything, every sad day, every hard day, every difficult day, I will be.” You said, running your hands through his hair, his favorite.

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Too late, I am already too committed.”

“You know, I was looking at my photo of you on my dashboard before it happened.” He turned his head closer to you.

“You have a photo of me in your work car?” You truly didn’t know this.

“Have the moment we started dating. It's a photo of you smiling at work when I came to visit for the first time. You were so excited to show me around to everyone. Your boyfriend is a Unit Chief in the FBI. You were so smiley the entire time, I wanted to remember that happiness on hard days. So in my work car, it sits, it's comforting.”

“Well, we can take more photos.” You sat on the edge of the bed, he sat up and you leaned into him. You were not going anywhere.

“I love you, you know that. I’m sorry for leaving, I just thought I was hurting you more than I was helping. I thought if you knew how bad I was feeling you would feel responsible or that I would hurt you.”

“I love you more than you know.”

-

After the talk, and JJ called the team to let them know the extent of everything going on, you decided to walk with her to get some coffee. Penelope had shown up five minutes after JJ ended the call with tons of goodies for Hotch, and you let her and Derek sit in there with him while you took a break. Hopefully, he would be okay, Derek could handle Penelope and Hotch needed a friend.

The two of you walked along side each other in silence until you got to the elevator. Once you got to the elevator JJ finally spoke up.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She looked at you sideways as she finished the question.

“Actually, yeah. What he said made me a bit worried and I need some more insight into what’s been going on.”

“I’m all ears.”

“He broke up with me because he’s having a hard time mentally. Has he been weird or more restricted at work at all?” You asked the question as you got into the elevator.

“A bit. I thought maybe it was due to the breakup but honestly it’s been going on a few months. I try not to pry because while he is my boss and my friend, i don’t want him to think i don’t trust him.”

“I understand that completely. I knew something was up, but I didn’t think he’d leave me just because he didn’t want to talk about it. I think we’re on the same page now, but i’m not letting this go. I love him too much.”

“He loves you too, trust me. Your photo is in his car, on his phone, in his office. You and Jack are his world. I honestly think he’s just scared.” As you got out of the elevator together she turned and hugged you. knowing you haven’t had one since this all happened. You loved your best friend, and she always knew what you needed.

-

Hotch was in the hospital for a day. They wanted to keep him overnight just for observation, but it turned out everything was okay. He had a concussion and a few cuts on his head but he was going to be fine. you were by his bedside the entire time you slept there you only left to go to the bathroom or if somebody else came and made you go get a cup of coffee. Usually it was JJ or Derek that convinced you to get up, despite Hotch telling you countless times it was okay to go home. You truly just were so happy to have him back you didn’t want to leave him again.

You both had walked to your car so you could drive him home. Jessica was keeping Jack for one more night that way Hotch could settle down at home and make sure that he was okay and you were going to stay with him tonight, because there was no way you were going to let him be alone.

“You know we have to talk about everything, right?” you said the minute you both got into the car.

“Yeah honey, I know.” He reached over and grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard.

“Why did you do this? I know you’re hurting. I would do anything to make you happy and feel loved and appreciated, that’s my goal when i’m with you. I’d do anything for you.”

“That’s the point, I just don’t want you to have to take care of me. I want to be there for you.” He started looking out of the window, like that was going to make his hurt get up and fly away.

“ Now you know a relationship is 50/50, and sometimes on bad days it’s 20/80. We give what we can, my love, and if you’re having a bad day I am more than willing to pick up the slack.” It was your turn to squeeze his hand, to bring him back to reality and remember that you were here, and that you were not going anywhere.

“I am embarrassed.” You looked over at him to see him, start to cry, genuine tears falling from his eyes, the look of defeat and hurt and embarrassment falling over his face. it was the saddest you had ever seen someone look and it absolutely shattered your heart to see him like that.

“Absolutely not,” You pulled over and stopped the car, “you have NO reason to be embarrassed about having a hard time Aaron Hotchner. You have been through more in the past few years than I could ever imagine. I don’t think I would be up walking around if I had gone through what you had been through. I would not be as good of a man as good of a dad as good of a person if I had been through what you had to go through. you give it your all every single day, whether it be as a father or as the leader of a team that saves peoples lives and every single day. you deserve somebody that not only wants to be with you at your best but somebody that will be there for you at your worst and I will be there for you. Always.” You took his face in your hands and turned him to look at you. He was still crying so you wiped his tears with your thumbs, and looked him in the eyes. You leaned in and gave him a big kiss. A kiss to cement everything you just said. So he knew, you were completely serious.

“Okay. I am sorry for what I've done, but for you, I am willing to try. I am willing to accept my downfalls, and lean on you when I need you. And you will never be my last call again, you will always be my first.”

“I better be.”

That got a smile out of him, and a small chuckle. You kissed him again and started the car back up, put it in drive, and took you both home.

[caeunot]

johnnie x reader

new years angst (18+)

PSA: the johnnie i'm going to write about is the fictional version we all have in our minds, we truly don't know how he actually is and it's good to make a balance to avoid any uneasy or parasocial feelings when writing about a real person.

it had been a very long night for everyone, new years party's obviously only actually get started at 12 so the night only truly ends early hours of the morning. johnnie was fast asleep on his bed, the sheets unmade as he lay on top in the full clothes from night before. as he lifted his head he felt all the drinking all the smoking all the talking from the night before rush straight to his head, like a heavy boulder he has to now carry for the next 12 hours. this isn't anything new to him but that doesn't make it any more fun to deal with.

he gets up and looks at himself in his mirror, scrunching his face as he notices how he still had his makeup on, though completely different from the way it had spread all across his face messily from lying on it. he turns on the tap and splashes himself with the cold water, waking him up but also somehow making his migraine worse.

as he starts getting changed into something comfortable he starts remembering the events from the night before, as if in pieces he has to puzzle together.

one thing that remains the most prominent in his memory is the countdown for midnight, he was excited. he had a plan. he wore his best outfit and put contour and primer on his face to make that days makeup extra fancy(he never really does that). he had been anticipating this moment the whole night, his eyes darted around looking for something specific. he squeezed past a few people pushing one slightly too hard making him have to awkwardly apologize which he hated doing. but at that moment it didn't phase him and neither did the flashing lights and the aggressive music playing a bit too loudly in the background. his mind was focused on one thing only. you

his plan was that at the moment it hit 12 he would kiss you, in his mind he decided this would be the best option since if you weren't into it he could pull it off saying it was a friend thing. he was absolutely too nervous to actually just ask you out since he personally feels you are quite out of his league. he hoped this would spark something between the two of you. so that he no longer has to look away when you laugh at his jokes because of the prominent blush that would always come up on his pale skin, or the way he had to hide his enthusiasm when you were around. he was absolutely infatuated with you.

who did you think zombie was about?

but as he finally caught his eye on you with seconds to spare he started jogging towards you but as he was about to approach you, you turn to jake cupping his face and leaning in for a deep kiss. he saw the way you smiled as jake held onto your waist. the way your kiss lasted longer than the others around the room. suddenly he jolted out of his mind as he hears a knock on his bathroom door.

fuck. he thinks to himself as he puts his hand sloppily through his hair in attempt to neaten it. "yes?" he says, still sounding half asleep.

"can I talk to you" you say, wait. you say? johnnie is confused. you don't live here, he just shares this place with jake..

fuck

he bites his lip before answering, "yeah uh just- just gimmie a min I just got up". " oh ok no problem! I'll be in the living room, take your time alright?" you say, he waits for your foot steps to sound lighter before he leans against the door and slides down to the floor, hands in his hair he curses. curses how he could so easily give someone his heart and so easily let them tear it apart, even without them knowing they did. love was fucked and he was tired and his migraine was getting worse and he just wanted everything to disappear, but as much as he would love to lock himself in the bathroom forever he was also curious what you had to say to him.

around 10 minutes later he emerges from the bathroom still rubbing his towel around his wet hair from his shower, he walks into the living room to see you scrolling on your phone and his heart immediately starts aching. before you noticed he was there he took full advantage of being able to admire you, you had no makeup on which johnnie had never seen before, but god you might look even better without it.

he admired the way your hair was slightly messed up and the way you were still in the clothes from the night before, that tight black dress that has a low v neck showing off your breasts which he realized he was obsessed with, even in a normal setting you made it work.

"so what's up?" he asks sitting down next to you on the couch. "wait first before anything can i ask you a massive favour..", "hit me" he says with a half smile, "well as u can see im still sorta in my dress from last night uh.. i maybe slept over here last night and my place is pretty far and i have a splitting headache, would it be cool if i stay at your guys place tonight too?"

"oh sure no problem we don't mind! but what about your clothes? im guessing u didn't pack any extra in that handbag of yours." you shuffle in your seat feeling a lil embarrassed, "that's my second favour.. could i borrow some of yours? well uhm not yours specifically but your the only one awake at the moment and i dont wana wake poor jake"

johnnie got a bit red imagining you in his clothes, but nonetheless lent you one of his hoodies and sweats which fit you perfectly. as you were getting changed he couldn't help when his mind slipped to the fact you never wore a bra with that dress, meaning you would be wearing one of his hoodies completely bra-less which turned him on much more than he would have hoped for, especially since the two of you agreed to go get something to eat after you get changed.

the car ride was very silent and it was freaking johnnie out a little, once you two have ordered your food and are started waiting you decide to break the silence, "if im being real, i got wayy too blasted last night like i honestly don't even remember talking to you.. at one point i wasn't even sure if you were there, but saying that i barely remember anyone i spoke to haha". johnnie lets out a small laugh, "dont worry abt not seeing me, im not a party guy i always end up lurking in the shadows like a vampire instead of making conversation." you turn your head to the window looking out at the sun as it melts like honey into the blue sky as it sets.

the two of you ended up eating in the car because you guys were so hungry. as you guys made it back inside the house you see jake facetiming someone on his phone, you sneak up behind him and shove him a little while going "BAH", which made him jump like a cartoon character. "fuck you y/n im on a call" "not my fault your a scaredy cat", "dude that's just wrong im braver than u and johnnie combined okay" you guys laugh and jake takes his call to his room, leaving you and johnnie alone again.

"i like how he didn't ask why im still here" you ask slumping onto the nearest couch. "i think you scared him too much that he stopped thinking for a sec" he said plonking himself next to you.

"you down to watch a movie?" you ask, "sure sounds good! i mean what else is there to do anyways". "perfect ill choose kay!! since im the guest i get privileges heh", "whatever makes u happy miss y/n" he says giving a genuine smile which made your heart race slightly.

the movie dragged on for johnnie, not that it was a bad movie but for the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about how close you guys sat next to each other, plus the way you were still wearing his clothes and how absolutely gorgeous you looked in them. all of a sudden you turned towards johnnie as he was staring at you by accident, the two of you sat there in silence for a little before you broke it

"uh johnnie can i be honest with you", "sure y/n, what's up". "well let me get straight to the point, by the time it hit new years.. did you see who i kissed?" johnnie tilted his head in confusion, "you kissed jake.. don't you remember?". "honestly i don't remember anything past 11pm.. when i said i was blasted i really meant blasted. well the reason im asking is because there was someone specific i wanted to kiss"

"oh really? and who was that". "it uhm was you"

johnnie felt his face start heating up and without thinking he immediately pulled your face in for a deep kiss, "johnnie.." you whisper as the kiss ended, his hands still on your face and the two of you close enough to where you could see all the pores on face and feel his cool breath against your lips.

he doesn't respond, even the kiss took him off guard and he initiated it! he realized that you reciprocated his kiss and that gave him enough motivation to lean in for another, this one was more sloppy and more intense. you two wanted each other badly and it was visible, as some tongue was slipped you climbed on top of johnnie and felt his bulge already from his thin pants. that turned you on even more and you accidentally let out a small moan.

you started to feel johnnies hands gently hold your waist from under the hoodie, you started to get a tingly feeling as he gently graced his hands higher and higher till he reached your boobs, he let out a small whimper as he gripped and played your breasts. you take your hands from his neck and instead use them to take off the hoodie itself giving him a full view of your boobs now making him gasp mid kiss.

you start grinding on him gently while taking his shirt off, once its off you slowly get off of him and pull down his pants, "are you sure?" he said shakily as he sat more forward on the couch preparing for what's coming, "you don't know how long I've wanted to do this, yes baby i'm sure" you say which made him go even redder and before you get on your knees you see him biting down an excited smile.

as you pull his boxers down you take your hand and gently rub it back and forth before taking your tongue and starting right at the base, giving a mix of wet kisses and licks as you slowly go higher and higher. when you finally get to the tip you hear a small whimper and you feel the top of your hair being grabbed desperately, you slowly put the tip fully inside your mouth moving it gently back and forth and going faster and faster deeper and deeper making his member twitch inside of his mouth and as you start hearing him moan deeply you realize he has already hit his climax and ends up finishing inside your mouth. when he was done you take your mouth off with a plop and immediately go back up to johnnies absolutely flustered face, you have never seen him look so submissive.

without hesitation you kiss him with his cum still inside your mouth, making a mess as it spills onto both of your chests.

johnnie sighs in delight "fuck y/n how did you do that" -when he knew exactly how :)

❣

[bliss-in-the-void]

Some of the lyrics for Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 Part 2 OP, “SPECIALZ” by King Gnu. I will now give my analysis, since this gave me so many feelings. It seems to me this is a sort of pseudo-convo between Satoru and Suguru.

“I love you baby, let’s keep eulogizing” - SatoSugu mourning the loss of their once happy life together (they both canonically thought about it when they were alone). They’re stuck in the past.

“No matter how ignorant, no matter how homeless” - they kept ignoring the reality (Suguru kept telling himself he was on the right path by leaving Satoru and Satoru kept ignoring the execution order on Suguru) and the two feel displaced and away from home without each other.

“Every heart-burning move” - it hurts to carry on without the other, and to constantly meet on opposing sides

“Once we start running, it’s unable to turn back” - they’ve both made their beds and they have to lay in them no matter how much they wish they could turn back time.

And then later on in the lyrics:

“No, no, no! No more composure. A lifetime of wandering in a maze” - Satoru is tired of putting up a mask in front of everyone, acting like he is fine, when the entire time since he’s been without Suguru life has felt more and more complicated and overwhelming.

“No matter what others say, ‘you are my special’” - despite the execution order, despite everyone calling Suguru evil, the worst sorcerer who ever lived, a disgrace, Satoru only ever saw him as his “very best friend, his one and only.”

“‘Get lost in me’ only words that protect yourself. How long are you gonna keep doing this? ‘Get lost in me’” - this could imply that Satoru could have offered for Suguru to forget about his pursuits and be with Satoru instead. Maybe Satoru believed if he loved Suguru enough it would make him ‘come to his senses’.

“Won’t regret the way of life, this is the path I chose” - Suguru refusing to abandon his new way of life, causing a rift between himself and Satoru.

“Please answer me, I wanna feel your heatwave. Blue flame flow from hypothermia” - Satoru wanting Suguru to say yes, to warm him back up after he left him so cold. Flames are the hottest when they are blue, and heating someone too quickly with something as hot as blue flames would send them into shock and potentially heart failure. This could be Satoru saying ‘yes, you left me in the cold and I want you back and I don’t care if the force of you kills me, I’ll take it full-force’

“Don’t deceive romantically, just cut to the chase. No longer get drunk on this love song” - Suguru saying ‘stop lying to yourself just because you love me, you know you need to kill me’

“I love you baby, I love you baby” - Satoru’s stubborn answer, refusal to not love Suguru

In the outro:

“We are special, no more composure” - this will be the arc where Satoru finally drops his happy facade, he can no longer ignore what Suguru’s loss has put him through

“We are special, stay as who you are” - Satoru willing Suguru to remain who he remembers him by, despite everything that has happened

“We are special, be special all the way” - Satoru believes he and Suguru are still the strongest, he himself escaped death once, why can’t Suguru do the same? He’s special too. Maybe he’s still in there.

“We are special, no matter what others say, you are my special” - even now, Satoru still feels the exact same way for Suguru that he always has.

And that will prove to once again be his kryptonite.

Hats off to King Gnu, this was amazingly done <3

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

2:09

Chan and Felix x reader 

Genre: 🌶️

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: what would life be without friends, when you get into an accident and your two best friends comfort you. 

Warnings: none really, just some cuteness. Friends, comfort fic. 

A/N: this was a request ☺️ I got this through my DMs so thank you my love for your message and I hope this gives you some comfort. 

All you can remember from that moment was when the bright lights flashed in your side window. You also remember the beep of the horn as the car came screaming towards you. You tried so hard to swerve off the road however, the vehicle clipped you, making the car spin out of control. 

You scream as the car comes to an abrupt stop, shooting you forward, and your head hits the dashboard. All you see before you are knocked out is a person running towards you.

You wake up and can hear the hospital monitors beeping. This brings you back to reality quickly. 

"Excellent…welcome back", the nurse said, smiling at you. 

"What happened?" You asked as a sharp pain shot through your head. 

"Well, you are a fortunate young lady…. You were in a car accident, and it looks like you've had a concussion," she said, reading your chart at the bottom of the bed.

"Oh god….was anyone else hurt?" you said, attempting to sit up. 

"Just some cuts and bruises from the other driver," she said, looking at the monitor for any changes.

"Y/N…" you heard from the doorway. 

"Hey, Lix", you try to smile.

"Thank god you are okay….Chris, she's in here," he yells down the hall. 

Chris pushes his way past Felix and quickly reaches your bedside. Grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles. "Do you know how scary it was getting that phone call?" You had forgotten you had even put him down as an emergency contact.

"I'm sorry…I didn't want to scare anyone," you said, tearing up. 

"So what happened?" Felix said, sitting on the other side. You started to recall the accident, and Felix grabbed your other hand.

"Poor thing," Felix said, brushing your face. Chan had your hand firmly in his. 

"So you have a concussion?" Chan asked, confirming your diagnosis. 

"That's what the nurse said." 

"Well then, I guess you are coming home with us," he said confidently. 

The truth is that Chan and Felix were like your only family. It warmed your heart that they wanted to take care of you. 

"Oh, Channie, you don't have to do that", you smiled at him. 

"Please…let us take care of you", Felix inserted himself. 

……

When you got released from the hospital, Chan drove you and Felix back to the dorm. They walked you up to the dorm room, where they sat you on the couch.

"Okay, so Felix will take the afternoon shift…then you and I can cuddle tonight," Chan said, kissing the top of your head. You smiled as he caressed your face and grabbed his keys. 

"I'll be back in time for you to leave, lix….take good care of our girl," he says as he walks out of the dorm. 

Felix was the most caring carer you could ask for. "babe do you want any tea?" He would reply knowing the answer and putting on the kettle. 

"Yes, please," you said, lying on the couch. Moments later, Felix comes over with a cup of hot peppermint tea. You sit up, and your head spins slightly from getting up too quickly. 

"Wow," you said, holding your head. 

"You okay?" Felix said, bending down to steady you. 

"My head is killing me" Felix got up and walked into the cupboard to give you some Panadol.

"Here, take this and water… I'll turn on the TV...we can watch a movie", he smiled, sitting down next to you. 

You lay your head on his shoulder as you cuddled up against him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gently kissing your temple. "It's all better," he said in his silly voice, which always made you giggle. 

"I'm so tired, lix," you say, yawning on his shoulder.

"Well, you can't go to sleep yet….so we better get you up," he said, lifting your head so he could get up. 

"I'll make you some lunch," he smiled.

Felix made you some food and brought it over to the couch. "Here, have some of this", he smiled, handing you a plate of Bibimbap. 

Felix would talk to you for hours. He would make sure you had water as well as your medicine, and even gave you his hoodie when you said you felt cold. 

"Chan should be home soon… did you want to shower… I'll give you some clothes" you nod your head, and Felix helps you off the couch.

"Here, use channies shower" he gave you a towel and led you to his room. 

You walked in and turned on the hot water. "Y/N, I stuck some clothes on the bed for you," you could hear through the door. 

"Okay, thank you," you shout back.  

You walk into the shower, warm water running down your body. You stay there for 5 minutes, then turn off the water and step out to dry yourself off. 

Putting the clothes, Felix paid out on Chan's bed for you. When you walked out into the living room, Chan was sitting on the couch "hey beautiful", he smiled, putting down a bag of food.

"Felix had to go….so it's just you and me," he said, shoving chips into his mouth. He patted the couch cushion next to him. 

"Come and eat," he said sweetly. His smile lit up the room. 

You sat down next to him and started to eat slowly as, at this point, you were just super tired and wanted to get to sleep. 

"You okay?" He stopped eating and turned to face you.

“ just tired” you said yawning while looking at Chan. "7 pm... you should be able to sleep now,actually." You continued to eat and when you finished, Chris picked your bag up and threw it away. 

Your eyes start to become heavy. Chan slides his hand around your waist and picks you up bridal style. "Let's go watch TV in my room," he said, kissing your temple. As he carries you to his bed, you bury your head in his neck. 

"Sorry, we don't have somewhere else for you," he said, placing down on the bed.

"It's okay, Channie", you smile. Chan tucks you in before walking to the other side of his double bed.

"What movie do you want to watch?" he asked, turning on the TV. You move closer to him, snuggling into his side with your head on his chest. 

"I just want to sleep," you said, rubbing his stomach softly. Chan wraps his arms around your shoulder and shifts down the bed turning the TV off. 

"We can do that," he said, rubbing your shoulder.

It was quiet for a moment before Chan placed a kiss on the top of your nose. "I couldn't stop thinking about how I almost lost you today" this made your heart flutter just a bit. 

"Please promise me you'll be more careful…I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." 

"I promise," you whispered before he pulled you into his chest, and you fell asleep in his arms. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading :) please enjoy.any comments likes or rebolgs are appreciated. 

Taglist: @daceydeath @katwinchester64 @armystay89

[bluhourz]

Hii... Um.. I'm shy but here goes nothing.... I saw that your requests are open ..and i was wondering if I may request a short Soobin angst fic where either s/o or Soobin is feeling insecure??

thanks for the request, I appreciate it so much :)

hope you like it!

when he gets insecure

-

It was a quiet afternoon. You and your boyfriend were tangled together on the bed, enjoying just being together. Soobin had his head tucked into your neck. Your one hand was threading through his hair and the other hand was rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn't do this often. You knew something was bothering him the instant he came home and jumped into your arms. Knowing him, you needed to wait for him to open up on his own. Poking and prodding won't do anything. You have been lying like this for a while now and you were starting to fall asleep. If you could see Soobin's face, you would see the pout on his face and his eyes filled with worries.

"Jagi, can I ask you something?" his voice was soft when he finally broke the silence.

"Hmm?" you hummed sleepily.

"You know how we filmed the dance practice videos for the new album today?"

"Hmm," you hummed affirmatively and continued stroking his hair.

"Yeonjun hyung is a good dancer, don't you think?" his voice was tentative, as if he was scared of what your answer would be.

Immediately sensing that something was off, your hands slowed to a stop.

"What do you mean?"

"I know we don't have fixed positions, but don't you think he would be our main dancer?"

His face still smushed in your neck, Soobin couldn't see your frowning face. You were quite puzzled at his words. But you needed to find out where this was coming from.

"Baby, look at me please," you said quickly.

Alarmed at your tone, his head shoots up to look in to your eyes.

"Where is this coming from?" you whispered with a frown on your face. Your hands came to cup his cheeks to keep his eyes on yours.

His eyes shifted down quickly, knowing you had caught him out. After a few seconds of silence, Soobin sighed and decided to spill his feelings to you.

"Today at practice our choreographer kept going on about how he is a good dancer and how he picked up the new choreo so fast. He always gets praised for his dancing. It's like everyone forgets the rest of us are also good dancers," the frown on his face deepened as he spoke, "I'm also not saying he shouldn't get praised for it because I know he is an amazing dancer. It's just..."

Your boyfriend's ranting died down. Suddenly he looked exhausted. His eyes were tired. His hair was a mess. You pushed him off of you with gentle hands and made him sit up with you. Facing him, you took his hands in yours and looked up into his eyes.

"You know I love you, right?"

He nodded silently.

"And you also know you are in one of the most talented and popular kpop groups out there?"

Another silent nod.

"Yeonjun is a great dancer, yes. But so are you. You are so talented and you work so hard. I don't think you give yourself enough credit," your voice stayed low and soft, trying to convey all your feelings in your words.

Soobin looked down at your intertwined hands without saying anything. Pulling one hand away gently, you reached up to try and tame his hair.

"You are also one of the best leaders and you have to manage those four hooligans," you nudged him playfully.

Finally, a small smile broke out on his face.

"And do you know how difficult it is to dance well when you are as tall as you? Nearly impossible," you finished off with a proud smile.

Soobin let out a little chuckle at all the compliments, meeting your eyes again. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

"Thank you, Y/N-ah," he whispered.

"Anytime, my love," you said gently.

"So... do you want a spoiler for the new choreography," Soobin said raising his eyesbrows.

"Yes! Of course! What kind of question is that?" you exclaimed excitedly.

Soobin jumped off the bed with enthusiasm and instantly began dancing. Your heart swelled with the amount of love you had for this man. How could he not see how amazing he was?

[curekibouka-writing]

A Conversation (Twst fanfic)

**SPOILERS for Book 7**

Summary: A light that has once touched you would never fade, the magic never vanishes. It seeps into moments of your life, and dwells in the best parts of your heart. 

Word count: 1628

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This is my third fic for the event “Anthems of Old” from @briarvalleyarchives​. This piece is inspired by the song "A Coversation" from Mary Poppins Returns.

First fic - They Live in You

Second fic - Love is a Song

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We haven’t spoken in so long, father,” Silver sets down the cardboard boxes he was carrying with magic and doesn’t bother lighting up the lamps in their empty cottage. 

There is no one here to answer him, even though his mind could vividly remember the image of his father being there, hanging from the ceiling, hair dangling, lips grinning, welcoming him home. 

He thought he was taking it quite well for a while. He never cried like that after that one time, and he could attend school and go about his life without any big issues. But now that he’s home, all the little pieces Lilia had left scattered in his life come together in a beautifully cruel mirage. 

This is wrong. He knows in his mind this is wrong. This was their home. This is his home. He knows that and still he abandons the boxes by the doorway and follows the phantom of his father to the table, sits, and pretends it could talk back. 

“Good to see things the way they were,” he starts, a stiff smile pulling at his hardened face. He can see outside the window the tree stump in their front yard on which his father used to leave his woodchopping tool also magical blade carelessly. He can see it has a dent there, now clearly visible because it’s empty. 

“Come now, why the frown, my dear?” Silver’s eyes shoot back to the chair across from him, where the imaginary Lilia would laugh in response. 

And that was the first magic Silver had known in his life, the greatest magic his father had ever shown him. Whenever his father would laugh and hug him, it would feel like ocean waves cradling him, clouds enfolding his body, moonlight showering over him. It would feel like a great fire with all its mighty strength just gently grazing the skin on his cheek to make him cozy and warm. It would feel like everything was fine. 

The imaginary Lilia was halfway across the table, his hands outstretched, almost touching Silver. But as Silver’s fist strikes powerlessly against the table, the mirage vanishes, the magic vanishes. 

This is wrong. All this lamenting, all this moping, this isn’t how his father had told him to carry on. And Silver wants to believe that his father had raised him to be strong, strong enough that he could stand up again even if he has lost his whole world, because that was the kind of strength his father had. 

Though that silhouette he always chased after is gone, that hand offered to help him get to his feet is no longer there, he can still hear that stern voice echoing, “Stand up, Silver. Stand up.” 

Silver gives a glance to the cardboard boxes he left by the doorway. He brought these back from his father’s room in Diasomnia, he promised himself that he would keep these trinkets and knickknacks, he promised himself that he would tidy them up properly. Yet he remains motionless in his seat. 

It’s no use. No matter how hard he tries to grab hold, what’s left of his father only continues to slip through his fingers. “Where did you go? Why did you go?” No matter how many times he repeats these questions at the air, no answer would come. 

He is tired. Lying down on the table, he lets his eyes close. Maybe he should sleep, he feels so tired…

“Silver?” the horned visitor calls out from the doorway, stopping at the boxes at his feet curiously. No reply came, so he calls again, “Silver.”

Silver’s eyes open sharply at the voice and he bolts up from his seat, standing straight, “Malleus-sama! What brings you here?” 

And now Malleus feels bad, his presence makes it difficult for Silver to loosen up, even though he knows the boy needed that more than anything at the moment. 

“To check on you,” Malleus says with the mildest tone he can manage, which is quite difficult for him, “Are you alright, Silver? It’s not like you to just leave those boxes at the door.” 

“My apologies. I was…” Silver pauses. He doesn’t quite know what he was even doing, “I was… uh…” 

“Be at ease,” Malleus walks to the table and taps his finger on Silver’s seat, himself settling in the one next to it, “No need to fret.”

Silver lowers his head in gratitude, but he can’t find the words to reply. He sits quietly with his hands folded. 

Malleus frowns at the subtle hints of distress in Silver’s voice and expression, “Is it painful?” he tries to probe, “For you to be back here?” 

“No, of course not,” Silver says hastily, “This is my home.” But then he lowers his head again, “It only… feels silent.” 

Malleus does not reply. He understands the sentiment but he doesn’t say it. He too had been in the palace’s music room, playing his father’s cello, and even though the beautiful timbre reverberated smoothly off painted stone walls, he had found it silent. 

But not for this cottage. His mind can still vividly remember the image of Lilia sitting in front of the fireplace, singing gently a nostalgic lullaby to put a human baby to sleep. He can still hear Lilia’s voice echoing in these wooden walls the way it did in his heart when Lilia had sung the same melody to him as a child. He can be sure Lilia was here, is here, still here. 

So Malleus tries to do it how Lilia would. He tries to remember what Lilia sounded like when he spoke softly. He tries to follow how Lilia would crouch down to meet the children’s eyes. He tries to tell Silver what he thinks Lilia would — what he thinks Lilia should’ve said, “Silver, do you remember one of his lullabies that you loved as a child?”

Silver raises his head as he tries to think, “The ‘love is a song’ one? How nostalgic.” He manages a small smile at the memory. 

“Yes. ‘Love is a song that never ends’ is how it goes,” Malleus confirms, and continues, “For me, I feel like I can understand what his song means, when I look at you.” 

“Me? But how? It’s father’s song…”

“Yes, it’s Lilia’s song for you. You are the one who remembers it, he wanted you to be the one to remember it. You were who he chose to love, and so you are the proof that he had loved.” Malleus shifts his gesture. That was the answer he filled in for Lilia, now he takes in a brief breath, and narrates his own, “When I look at you, Silver, I feel like I can see him too.” 

“How can that be true, Malleus-sama?” Silver shakes his head, “I look nothing like father.” 

Malleus blinks, and the image he saw of Lilia by the fireplace is swiftly replaced by the image of Lilia standing beside Silver, hugging the human by the shoulders with strength and gentleness, and then he’d stroke Silver’s cheeks, or rest his hand on Silver’s head, and he’d grin like the happiest fae in the world. 

“It’s truer than you can imagine,” Malleus smiles, forcing his eyes to return from the image of Lilia back to Silver, “He lives in you, after all.” 

“That is not true,” Silver looks away this time, “We only had a decade and a few more years. There was not enough of him that I have taken after. I wish I could live more like him and proudly say that I—”

“You are his son, Silver,” Malleus interrupts. There were many things that Lilia didn’t want to leave behind for Silver, many things that he didn’t want Silver to take after, but that’s beside the point right now. “You are his one and only son. And if you ever have doubts about that, look at your reflection next time you think of him, then you would surely remember how your smile was always meant for him.” 

A light that has once touched you would never fade, the magic never vanishes. It seeps into moments of your life, and dwells in the best parts of your heart. Lilia did fumble and falter, and his ways were not the best to say the least, but his song and light and love and magic had still been delivered properly. Lilia’s song will always echo in this cottage, and will never end, for it is a part of what constitutes Silver, a part of what raised Silver to be who he is now.

“I see…” Silver puts a hand to his chest, “There is so much that father had left behind for me.” There is so much of Lilia that he already has. It’s just that he has never looked hard enough in the mirror, never looked hard enough at himself to see it. 

“Thank you, Malleus-sama,” Silver bows his head, and when he raises his eyes again he thought he could see Lilia flying beside Malleus, practically glowing with pride, “Thank you for giving me such kind words, words that father might have given me.” 

Malleus pauses. Did it sound like that? Did he sound like Lilia? He lets out a breath he didn’t remember holding in. He feels Lilia’s hands on his tensed shoulders, and he muses quietly, “I see. I see Lilia has left behind much for me as well.” 

Silver continues, “Would you like to stay for dinner tonight, Malleus-sama? We could invite Sebek as well. I’m sure father would be delighted, if he were here.” 

And it was as if they could both hear Lilia’s voice coming from above their heads, hanging from the ceiling, hair dangling, lips grinning, “A wonderful idea, my dear!” 

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 12| There Is Rain

(Gif credit: @xo-tough-love-xo )

Sweat poured down my face as I finally finished my set of Bulgarian squats. Dropping the seventy pound dumbbells in each hand, I stood up and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. As I went to grab my water bottle, I caught Aiden’s stare.

“What bro? I did fifteen,” I said.

Waving me off, he said, “Question.”

The look on his face let me know that I would soon regret giving him the go ahead for his foolishness but I motioned for him to continue as I took a few sips of water.

“Been around any vampires lately?” he cracks, causing me to almost spit my water out.

“Bro, what is your problem?” I chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just saying. Looking like you willingly offered yourself up. Whore,” Aiden said.

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped as we both busted out into laughter. I wasn’t someone who kissed and told but as I was rushing to get here on time, I didn’t realize there was evidence left behind. If I did, I would have worn a different shirt.

“Something like that,” I say. In a flash I see Mila on my bed spread before me, eyes wanton, chest flushed a vibrant hue of red.

There.

Here?

Yesss.

My reverie is interrupted by Aiden hitting me in the face with a balled up towel.

“Unnecessary,” I said, tossing it back, though he side steps being hit by it.

“Necessary as hell. You ain’t about to be reliving your lil sexcapade in front of me. We close but never will be that close,” Aiden said with a laugh, as he went over to pick up the weights for his turn. “Who is she.”

It no longer felt right to call Mila just my friend but it was hard to describe what we were becoming. If it were Rah asking me this question, I might have a better answer but since it was Aiden, I kept it simple. “Someone I care about,” I reply.

“One you don’t care about people, you be in love. Two, good, tired of you being sad and mopey. Three, you are a shit wingman so you better make her your girlfriend. You ain’t for the streets for real,” Aiden jokes, as he does his set without nearly the amount of struggle I did. 

“Man it’s not my fault you don’t have no game and you're right about that, I’m not for the streets. I want more than falling in and out of beds,” I said, with a shrug.

“Like I said, you be in love and ain’t nothing wrong with that. So what’s her name?” he asked.

“It’s Jamila and it’s too soon for the love word, so chill,” I replied. The last time I thought I was in love that turned out not to be the case.

“Look at you blushing and shit. Lying ass,” he chuckled, dropping the weights.

“Respect that I don’t want to give your nosey ass any details right now. Just know that she’s different,” I said.

“She better be. The last thing you need is another Mariah,” he said.

“Nah, I learned that lesson, trust me,” I said with a shake of my head. Being with Mila was like breathing with the full capacity of my lungs. I didn’t have to hesitate to be myself because everything I said mattered to her. It was a freedom that had been sorely missing from my life until now.

“Only took the rest of your twenties and eight months of walking around looking like an extra for a Jagged Edge video,” he said, causing me to snort.

“Dawg, I can’t fucking stand you sometimes,” I said, as laughter consumed us both.

This was the closest of a heart to heart we would have because Aiden didn’t do feelings. All he cared about was whether or not we were happy and how he could show up when we weren’t. That alone is why no matter how bad he got on my nerves I would always call him my best friend.

With most of my free time being split between watching over Granddad and hanging out with Mila, it had been almost a week since I had been by my parents house. After the hectic nature of the previous one, I needed some space. I think we all did as Veronica opted to spend last weekend at my apartment versus at home with our parents. She was a bit out of sorts after seeing our father collapse which was understandable. We had been having to face mortality a lot recently and she wasn’t even eighteen yet. When I walked in the house, I could hear her and her friends in the backyard most likely practicing tumbling. I’d give my greetings to them later and continue to let them have their fun undisturbed. Kicking my shoes off and placing them in the cubby in the foyer, I padded my way to the living room where I heard the TV on. Sitting in an armchair, looking like the spitting image of Granddad, was Pops.

“Hey Xay,” he greeted, as I walked over to him to slap hands. Like his father, he wasn’t overly affectionate to anyone other than my mother and sister. When I was ten, I came up with a handshake which became our thing. “Glad you stopped by. Your mother has me cooped up in here.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. Doctor said you’ll be able to do light exercises next week though,” I said, as I took a seat on the couch.

“She’s feeding me rabbit food,” he deadpanned, causing me to chuckle at the exaggeration.”I might not make it that long.”

“Pops,” I said, shaking my head. “Too soon for death jokes.”

“Sorry but it’s how I feel. You know I don’t like being idle,” he said.

“You're not being idle, you’re recovering from a traumatic health event. I think that warrants some down time,” I said, for what had to be the twentieth time. There was something about getting older that made the adults in my life turn mulish in nature. They were less inclined to listen to reason and only wanted to do what they wanted while not taking account of the better options.

He nodded his head while picking up the remote. “You trying to watch this Yankee’s game with me?”

“Sure.”

I leaned back against the couch as he turned to the YES channel. While we watched the game, mom flittered back and forth, making sure Pops was taking his medication on schedule and bringing snacks. I was haphazardly picking pistachios out of my napkin of trail mix when Pops called my name.

“Yes sir,” I replied, looking over at him.

“We just struck out Boston’s best hitter and you didn’t have anything to say. What’s on your mind son?” Pops asked.

He was right. I couldn’t recall anything from this game because I had been trapped in my mind trying to figure out how I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship. However, like there would never be a perfect time, there weren’t going to be perfect words either.

“Honestly, I’m vacillating between being concerned about your well being and pissed about your lack of respect for me,” I said, sitting the napkin down on the coffee table.

“Well since your concern has been duly noted, let’s address the latter. What makes you think I don’t respect you?” Pops asked, as he sat up a bit straighter. A sign that he was actively listening to what I had to say.

Scrunching my face I said, “You did when you insinuated that I wanted to shirk my responsibilities to Granddad and tied that assumption to my character as a man.”

“Xay, I know dealing with Granddad isn’t easy but we are his family, and looking after another is what we do. A man looks after his family, come hell or high water, not passes those responsibilities over. I know you don’t have a family of your own yet but you would want your kids to do the same for you. Hell I want you to do the same for me if it ever comes to it and I’m not sure you will,” Pops said.

“What?” I said, with a raised brow. “How can you even say that shit to me with a straight face? I go above and beyond for this family.”

“Doing what is expected of you isn’t going above and beyond. It’s your duty,” Pops said.

“That’s semantics. Either way I show up, which is more than you can say.  I have a question for you, what’s the name of Granddad’s primary doctor? His neurologist? His physical therapist? Huh?” I asked.

“I don’t see-

“Yeah you don’t!” I said cutting him off. “You don’t see shit. You barely see how not easy it is dealing with your father, the man you supposed to take care of as the oldest of his children! So what kind of man that make you?”

Pop's face darkens with anger as he points a finger in my direction. “And who’s paying for those special doctors? Those medications? Not the V.A., I’ll tell you that. Who is paying the taxes on the house? The car? That’s the kind of man that makes me. I’m doing my part, I’m asking you to continue to do yours.”

“It’s easy to do your part when all it consists of is writing a check. You not getting cursed at and beat on when he can’t remember where he is in the middle of the night. You not getting called every name but your own. You not seeing the bruises on GiGi that he leaves when me, Chase or Ryan are not there,” I said, standing up, my anger roiling too much to remain seated. The feeling made me antsy so I slowly began pacing on the side of the coffee table.

“What?” Pops recoiled, sinking back against the chair. “What bruises? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you letting your mother, children, nieces, and nephews get beat on by a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. We take it because we love him too but it’s not right. None of us are trained medical professionals! We all work, we all tired, we all got shit going on but none of that is considered because of your idealization of what a man is supposed to be? Let me clue you in, a man should know how to make the correct decisions for his family. Not put them through hell because of their pride,” I spat out.

The more I thought about his inconsideration the more vexed I became. All of the frustration I had previously swallowed was churning in the base of my throat. The acid was on the tip of my tongue but I was trying my best not to blow up. Trying my best not to slip back into the angry child he knew me to be growing up because then he really wouldn’t listen to me. He would accuse me of being emotional and dismiss everything I said in one fell swoop.

“You think my reasoning is about pride?” Pops said, standing to his feet as well. “Let me tell you something boy, everything I do is because it was what I was told to do. When your grandfather first started losing his memory, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made me swear to keep the house and him in it! He trusted me to do right by him and that’s what I’m going to do. He wanted to be at home with his family until the end so that is where he will be.”

“That was before he knew his disease would make him violent,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That changes things.”

“It does, I’ll look into getting an overnight nurse at the house. I didn’t know he was hitting GiGi,” Pops said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“But you knew he was hitting us. Why wasn’t that enough for you to make this decision when this behavior first started?” I asked, squinting my eyes in confusion. 

“By the time I was your age, I had been hit more times than I can count. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” Pops said, waving my question away. He stood with his shoulders squared, no regret written anywhere in his countenance. 

“So because you suffered, I should? That’s your logic,” I chuckled darkly. “The crazy part is you don’t even realize how fucked up you sound.”

“I’m not going to apologize for looking after my family and trying to raise you right,” Pops said.

“I’m not asking you too, I’m asking for you to apologize for failing at it. I didn’t go to Rikers for no reason,” I said.

Indignified, he steps closer to me and I keep my eyes on him as he eliminates the space between us.  “Now, that was your own mistake. You and you alone decided to go joy riding in somebody else's car. Your mother and I gave you everything and you almost pissed it away being careless. Don’t you dare put that shit on me,” he said, pushing his finger into my chest. 

“Yeah it was my mistake but what do you think pushed me into making it? Your constant threat of signing me up for the army actually made prison more appealing. Not something you ever considered huh father of the year?” I questioned, causing his eyes to go wide at the confession before settling into a slant.

“Hey now, what’s going on in here? Why are y’all yelling in my house?” Ma asked, walking into the living room but Pops held his hand up signaling for her not to come any closer. 

“See that’s what I mean right there, you always want a loophole around hardships or something you don’t like,” Pops said, twisting my words.

“No, because I’ve been through plenty of hardships. I want a father who loves me for who I am and not what he wants me to be but fuck that,” I said, slapping my chest for emphasis.

“Your father does love you sweetheart. Come, let’s have a seat, this has gotten out of hand and we need to take a beat,” Ma says softly, inching closer to us.

“Mom is right. As my first born, I didn’t know what my heart looked like until you got here, so don’t be mistaken Xavier. I will love you every day until I leave this Earth and even after but I’m struggling to like you at this moment,” Pops said, his tone full of steel as he takes a few steps back from me, hands on his hips. 

“Alex Taylor!” Ma gasps, shaking her head, as her eyes shift wildly between us both. Words that have been ten years in the making have been purged for what seems like no reason. He still didn’t see me, maybe he never did, and maybe he never will.

Nodding my head, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “Likewise.” I place a kiss on my mother’s forehead and move before she can pull me into a hug. The action hurts her but I can’t be touched right now. “I’ll call you Ma. Tell V, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay long.”

With that, I stalk out of the house, the front door slamming behind me. Music still pours from the backyard and I’m grateful my sister didn’t have to bear witness to that ugliness. My legs carry me several blocks away from the house. I’m walking in hopes to calm myself down but it’s not working. This isn’t the kind of anger that burns off. It’s the kind that makes you feel as if you are breaking into a million pieces. I don’t feel like trying to collect the fragments either. Reaching into my pocket, I call the one person who can make me feel something besides this darkness. The call is connected on the first ring. She takes one look at my reddened face and spares me from having to spill my guts with one question.

“You trying to lose at UNO?”

“AYE YOU CHEATING.”

“No I’m not, we agreed to stacking,” I laughed, as Papi looked across the table at my empty hands with nothing but disbelief. In a matter of seconds I had changed the course of game night between the trio when I won my first and then second, and third round of the card games. Mila was happy for my wins because the mother and son duo had been beating her for the previous hour they had been playing.

“Take your L Papi,” Mila said.

“Vengeance will be mine,” Papi says, reaching for the cards to reshuffle but Mari stops him.

“It will be yours another day. We’re going to the movies,” Mari said.

“We are?” he asks with confusion wrinkling his brow but I knew what Mari was doing. Although I came in smiling and was cracking jokes, my energy was off. Even Papi noticed because he was being nice for once. 

“Yes we are. Say goodbye,” Mari said, standing up from the floor where she had been sitting.

Papi made quick work of wrapping his arms around Mila. She gave his curls a playful tug as he held out his fist in my direction.

“See you little man,” I said, bumping his fist with mine. 

“You coming to my game on Friday?” Papi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said. I know it was a big deal for him to ask me, that meant in some way he was accepting me into his orbit.

“You weren’t going to invite me?” Mila asked.

“You always come. Didn’t think I had to ask anymore,” Papi says with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Mila concedes with a smirk.

“Thanks y’all,” Mari smiled. It meant a lot to her to have Papi feel supported and having an extra person to help with that was appreciated. “Boy, bring yourself.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” Mila said, watching as they bounded out of the apartment. 

Once the door clicks shut I waste no time, pulling Mila across the couch, and settling her into my lap. I push my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply, she smells of jasmine and something warmer. Something uniquely her that makes me press a kiss there. Her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders and that’s how we remain for a while. The only sound that can be heard is the show Papi insisted we watch from the tv. I listen to her heartbeat and let it lull me into some semblance of peace. Her fingers trail gingerly across the nape of my neck, moving in small circles. I let the power of her presence subdue the remnants of my frustration. Nuzzling my nose against her skin caused her to hold me tighter.

“You hungry?” she asks after some time.

“Not really,” I replied.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked and it apparently took me too long to come up with the answer by the indication of her sucking her teeth. “I’m going to heat you up some pizza and wings. You go wash up. I cleaned your clothes from last time you were here this morning. They are in the chair in my room.”

“Aight, thank you,” I said, retreating from my hiding spot to give her a kiss.

“Nothing to thank me for, go,” she says, kissing me once more before hopping out of my lap so that I can stand. She turns and heads to the kitchen before I can tell her how untrue that is. I shake my head and head to the bathroom knowing how she feels about compliments. One day I was going to tell her about all the ways she made my life better by just being herself. For now, I’d let her think she was slick.

After my shower, she beckons me outside to the small balcony that’s attached to the living room by way of a sliding door. There’s enough space for a chaise and a black cocktail table which our plates rest on. It’s still warm out but the breeze makes it one of the nicer summer nights. As soon as I sit, she hands me a plate. I express my gratitude with a forehead kiss that she blushes at. 

“Are we talking about it or ignoring it?” she asks softly once I’ve eaten half of my food.

“Ignoring for now,” I said, finishing off a wing and looking over at her. “It took a fifty minute Uber ride and seven games of UNO for me to reach the level of calm I’m currently on.”

“Understandable. I don’t need the details to tell you that I’m proud of you and that your braveness is something I admire,” she says, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“I dunno, I’m feeling more foolish than brave,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin.

A part of me knew the conversation with my father would go left and I had been prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deep his need to regulate everything was. I walked in hoping to demand his respect and left wondering why I had wanted it in the first place. He claimed to love me but purposely let me struggle for almost two years to teach me some sort of lesson. Even when I brought up how he failed me he stood in a chamber of ego refusing to let it be chinked with the truth. 

“That’s the risk of vulnerability. No matter how long it may take you, you find a way to express yourself which is the bravest thing any of us can do in the face of rejection or disappointment. I want to be fearless in that way too, I’m trying to be at least,” she said, with a nervous laugh. 

Grabbing her by the waist, I placed her in my lap for the second time this evening needing to have her closer. Her long limbs wrap around me, securing our embrace. 

“You are and it’s beautiful,” I said, kissing her cheek. She was on the cusp of finding her purpose. I considered myself blessed to be able to witness the journey. “I don’t express myself to be brave, I do it to be heard. A side effect of being a military brat I suppose but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to hear you say that.”

“Either way, you do it, and that’s something,” she said, staring into my eyes warmly. Underneath the glow of the streetlight I’m bathed in her spirit. It’s a balm that lays over the rough parts of today so that I can make it into tomorrow. 

After a moment of openly gaping at one another, she pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back, tangling my hands in her braids, and chose to get lost in her versus continuing this particular line of conversation. It may be something but that something had not been enough to get my father to hear me. So it was no longer worth lamenting over.

As if she can feel my thoughts traveling outside of this moment, she pulls away from our kiss, to flick the tip of my nose with her tongue.

“Why?” I questioned, as I began to tickle her sides. She squeals as she tries to escape but can’t due to the hold I have on her. The sound of her laughter evokes my smile.

“I regret nothing,” she laughs, as she leans in to do it again. “Now finish eating so we can go start the second Captain America movie because I need to see the full scene of them jumping Tony.”

Tilting my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I groan. “Stooppp watching MCU compilations on Tik Tok.”

[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.

[bennie-jerry]

Black Cat is NOT better than MJ - An Insomniac Rant

Listen, I'll definitely make a post about how crappy a love interest Insomniac's version of MJ is for Peter Parker (and when made, I'll link it in THIS post). But there ain't no way in dog drool I am EVER going to say that Black Cat is better love interest for him. If anything, a part of me would like to argue she's a bit worse.

"Oh, I only like her/ship them as a joke---" Congratulations, you can leave the post because I'm not talking about you :)

Maybe I'm off my rocker, what about this DC Catwoman copycat screams wifey-material to you guys? Felicia has manipulated, lied to, and used Peter for her own advantage time after time with seemingly no remorse. And even if she supposedly did for one millisecond, she sure as heck doesn't atone for it. And even when she apologized for tricking him into helping her, it sure sounded un-genuine.

Whether she truly had a son or not (though considering Felicia's history of being a pathological liar, I wouldn't put it past her), she used that narrative to trick Peter into a sense of false security, only to then trap him in a room after she got what she wanted.

And let's say that Felicia having a son WAS true. Guess what? THAT'S EVEN WORSE!

Because NOW instead of it just being a slimy scheme to get him vulnerable, she's lying to him by omission. Regardless of what her so-called intentions could be, she's still manipulating him which is an absolute no-bueno for ANY type of relationship (romantic or not).

You guys seriously need to stop glossing over how flawed these characters are just because you're attracted to them.

Y'all will complain up and down about how Peter's constantly broke but then want him to hook up with a chick that'd just steal his money without a blink? Make it make sense.

Once again, MJ is DEFINITELY not a good girlfriend for him either, but are we really going to pick a literal criminal as a love interest JUST because she's pretty?

“Oh, but Felicia has a similar lifestyle to Spider-Man!” Uh…no the freak she does NOT.

Spider-Man fights crime. Felicia COMMITS crimes.

Do they have chemistry? Yes, way more than an actual chemistry lab. But Felicia would absolutely NOT be a good long-term partner for Peter—he deserves way better than her.

At this point, if Peter having a love interest MUST (utterly MUST) be a prerequisite, I'd genuinely prefer he at least (at the freaking LEAST) get with Sable or Watanabe (before she became Wraith, that is—don’t even get me started on that mess) because at least those two try to have SOME (not good but some) sense of decent morality (not that I even THINK they'd be the best choices, they're just the least toxic ones I could think of since apparently all of the OTHER love interests for Peter in this universe just flipping SUCK).

“Oh but look at her, she's bad–”

You don't need to project the fact you're a masochist on everyone else.

If you're the kinda person who likes being manipulated and taken advantage of by people you find hot, that's your problem you need to get fixed in therapy.

But here's what annoys me the most about this whole thing: I know for a FACT that if MJ was the more attractive one and that FELICIA was mid-looking, you guys would then be SCREAMING for her to be with Peter instead of Felicia.

Really think about it. Without Felicia's looks, what kind of person is she? Is she really someone worth being with? Don't worry, I have the answer: NO-

Felicia is in NO way a better love interest for Peter and I'm tired of people acting like she is just because she looks like an Instagram cosplayer.

“Felicia's always been this way in the comics and stuff—”

As if that makes it any better. If anything, all that's doing is giving me MORE proof as to why she's not a good person for him WHATSOEVER.

If the genders were reversed, you'd all be grossed out by Felicia, let's not even lie. If Felicia was was a guy doing all of this to a female version of Peter, you'd all be calling him a creep and trying to cancel him on Twitter -_-

[livestosave]

Hi sorry to bother you but you seem well versed in rwby. What are you feelings for James? I write side stories and looking for input. I love Qrow....regardless of the drinking but some of the other characters I'm having problems coming up with extra content.

Alrighty Nonnie. I've had some thoughts on how to answer this, quite a few. And really, the challenge for me in it is...I have so many thoughts on James. Mostly, that his arc was a damned shame and a damned waste of a great, amazing character.

Without hesitation, James Ironwood was my favorite character in RWBY from the moment he stepped into frame in V2. This was a man with so much warmth in him, who wasn't afraid to ask for something to believe in from his friend and leader...who retreated in an argument rather than let his size make anyone uncomfortable. A man who disqualified a girl with such sympathy, not telling her that she was lying, or that she was wrong. James never showed anything but a worried protectiveness in the early volumes, and that thread maintained through his spotted appearances in Volumes 4 & 5.

James full on bowed to Weiss when he saw her at the Schnee mansion, James supported her publicly after her outburst at the fundraiser.

And then we get to Volume 7, and despite everything we're primed for, everything we expect, this man laughs off the stealing of an airship, with such warmth. He extends trust to the kids, lets them keep the relic, gives them board and upgrades, is open and honest with them at every step, trusting them - despite the fact he has no real reason to - with secrets that could topple nations, because he has faith in them. He lets them yell at him, snark him, and takes it with a weary sigh and an admittance that they're right.

James is a man who is a natural defender, a knight in shining armor. A paladin. He wants a cause to fight for, and people to defend. He wants to see the best in people. He wants to be proven right, in spite of an obvious streak of paranoia that tells him otherwise. He might fight with his friends, but when push comes to shove, he hugs Qrow because, no matter what they each said in Vale because they were upset, Qrow is his friend.

Jame looks tired, has grown the beard, because he is giving so much of himself to this fight. To trying to hold things together and find a solution when the one man who he thought had a plan died. And then when that man was revealed not to have one? James still tried. Until Salem was at his door, he had confidence they could find a solution, a way forward. And even when she cornered him in his office, battered, weary, broken in his own ways...even then he scorned her. Even then he chose to stand against her. He chose to try and find some plan rather than give in. A way to save some people because he couldn't save them all.

Ultimately, I love James because he is both a perfect Tin Man allusion - a man losing pieces of himself to his need to fulfill his duty - and because he is a fairy tale knight. When so much of RWBY is based on stories and fairytales, James is such an archetype of the genre, and I love that about him. At his heart, he's a good man. And what they did to him will always break my heart for the corruption they perpetrated against his character. He could have fallen so many ways...but not that fast. Not that way. Not to be that.

[pileofmush]

WHAT'S NOT YOURS- Yuuta Okkotsu

summary: you're not the seventeen-year-old crybaby anymore, no longer the one he left. the problem is that he still loves you, just as much as he did ten years ago. do you still love him, though?

To Mushy, I hope you enjoyed this one. Uni is getting kinda rough, might not get to write again for a while. Implied ykw but nothing explicit. It's a mutual pining kind of thing, but reader doesn't want to admit it. I love you,

-rosie

I think it's you, you say, he shifts to look you in the eye. The one I love.

His gray eyes find solace in your necklace, the one he bought for you. O-oh. I- um-

That's okay. You don't have to.

-/♡\-

The first time you meet him again is in a konbini, a Wednesday.

The fluorescent lights hum incessantly, their ivory color showing you the way to your dinner. Though really, nobody should be eating dinner at 11: p.m.

The dull gleam of the white marble tiles hurts your eyes, you regret not wearing your glasses. Though, at least it brings you to a pack of chicken noodles packaged the same color as your scuffed sneakers.

Question: spicy or sweet?

Plain it is.

The cashier doesn't even look at you (Ai, you know her name without the ugly yellow tag), just a mumbled the usual? and doesn't wait on your answer as she stretches out a palm for the money.

You briefly think of running off just because you could, but you don't. Just give her the normal 1083 yen you're accustomed to at this point, the extra three she drops inside the charity can.

The gold-turned-copper bell rings as someone enters the- your convenience store, the recyclable bag long packed with your junk, healthy junk anyway.

Your tired eyes glance over after a few seconds of no movement, no sound. You realize he's been staring at you.

"Ah, can I help you?"

He practically falls on his way over, tripping on literal air as he makes his way. "Do you- um- do you recognize me?", you lie, you don't.

A frown carves away a smile from his cheeks, his teeth less showy. He says his name. He says yours.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it must've been the light. We dated right?"

Yes, you did.

"Ah, we did. Yeah."

You shrug, start to walk away, to the worn out handle of the door you push instead of pull (the label doesn't say that though). He grabs you by the forearm.

"Sorry- uh- you look good. Real good." He smiles, the bastard.

"Yeah. Um, you too."

You don't think about him.

-/☆\-

But he thinks about you.

He stares at the orange BiC lighter on his bedside table. Ten years later and he remembers buying Marlboro Reds for you and still complaining while he lights the cigarette. He wonders if you still smoke.

He wasn't lying when he said you look good. You do. You always will, to him at least.

Your taste still hasn't changed though, if the food you bought meant anything. Plain noodles, you used to buy them and complain about how salty they were, just to use half the pack of seasoning in actual noodles, and the other on plain rice.

He misses you. Though he has no right to.

(He wonders if you feel the same. He shouldn't be.)

He pushes his thoughts away as best as he can. He has a mission tomorrow, now he can only fit in four hours of sleep.

He falls asleep missing the smell of your body wash in his bed. Never thought he'd miss the smell of cigarettes in his room till now.

-/☆\-

You lied, you do think about him. You still remember him just as clearly.

Especially now, when his smile was as shiny as ever, agonizingly slow to show on his lips, pronounce his dimples. Genetics, he'd always say, but the

You still have the shiny silver necklace he bought for you. On your dresser, a dry and worthless monument to your love. Even the collection of Percy Jackson books probably worth more than two months of your salary.

You still have everything he brought, but he never took. Couldn't throw them away. Probably never will.

Memories of him still plague you as you dress yourself for work, the copper colored polyester feeling tighter than it did yesterday.

Pants coated in an agressive, blue stain are saved for tomorrow, you prefer the ones not soiled by blueberry sauce for cheesecake you don't like.

The restaurant you work at has perks, mainly the fact that after the workday you still have time to help out at the daycare because the young parents always give you a warm breakfast and lunch you're looking out for your community.

When the sun sets, Mei hands you an envelope, a small line of blue ribbon and a seal on it. Gold, you notice, the suns hines on it at an angle where it reflects back on your shirt.

"Here. For the holidays."

Her voice, worn down by years of screaming at incompetent guests, resonates through the air.

"I work holidays."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Don't care, pick up your shit and rest. You look awful, Chef."

She walks away before you can say anything, her soft sneakers kicking asphalt. Your voice lodges itself in your throat.

Oh well.

-/♡\-

The second time you see him again is when you camp out Black Friday, eight days after the first.

The cold night air burns a nostalgic sting on your nose, you remember the last you did this. Your purple sleeping bag- almost unrecognizable in color from years of torment and refusing to buy a bed- isn't the only warmth keeping you tethered to consciousness, there's a thermos of coffee too.

You're about to doze off when someone kicks gray asphalt into your face. The sleeping doesn't feel as comfy as it did before, you glare.

"What the fuck, man?"

The stranger turns in their tracks and beelines for you.in less than a second they're crouching and smiling at you and-

Oh, it's him.

"Oh, it's you."

You blink.

"Yeah, uh, hi."

He kicks away a leaf, plants himself on the ground beside you. The guy next to you shifts over when you produce a whistle from your lips, though not before a reluctant huff. You sit up to see him, in all his criss-cross applesauce glory.

He looks tired, like he always did.

"What are you doin' out here?"

"Yuuta, it's the day before Black Friday, I'm on the sidewalk next to a Target, guess."

He chuckles, his dimples still look cute. "I guess that's kinda dumb huh?"

"You think?"

You sit in silence, the uncomfortable kind, but you're not willing to be the one to break it. He does, after a minute of biting his lip and picking at his fingertips. Some things don't change, you suppose.

"I know you don't remember me, but-"

"Of course I remember you. You tore my heart out, how could I forget?"

"But you said you did."

"I lied. People lie. You of all people should know that."

"Ah."

He exhales a warm breath, a sigh. You stare at him, like you're waiting on him to do something, something you don't know yourself.

"I'm sorry, about everything. You're different now, you don't have to-"

"It's fine."

He asks for your number, and by some slip of your judgment, it's on his palm before you can tell him to fuck off.

"Can I-" He looks at you, you. "-call you?"

You're dumb, as dumb as you were back then.

You tell him okay.

-/♡\-

Trash reality TV plays, extra buttered popcorn strewn about on red, fuzzy carpet. The purple cloth of your sweater feels warm, yet not as warm as the body beside you.

Yuuta's arm is snaked around your torso, his leg around your thighs. He's eating chocolate of all things, the bucket of expensive popcorn abandoned on your glass table.

"Do you love anybody?", you ask, something a teenager shouldn't.

He chokes a bit. "Where did that come from?"

"Just curious," you lie.

"Well," he starts, "I love Inumaki, Itadori, and Rika." He smiles in thought. "Your turn."

You tilt yourself enough to look at him, his gray eyes.

"I think it's you," you say, he shifts to look you in the eye. "The one I love."

His gray eyes find solace in your necklace, the one he bought for you. "O-oh. I- um-"

"That's okay. You don't have to."

-/♡\-

You wake in a cold sweat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You're seventeen again, wishing you could understand what he meant by curses, why he can't just stay.

You're sixteen again, bawling your eyes out because he's left without reason.

You're twenty, giving up on your new boyfriend because it's just not the same, not like it was with him.

You don't make a sound, simply lie awake in your own tears for a minute, staring at one of the rings you snatched from his apartment when you left.

Fuck him, for making you suffer.

-/☆\-

The third time he sees you, it's a full month after the second.

The A/C unit of his car feels like it's trying to freeze him to death, like it sees how truly pathetic he is and wants to put him out of his misery.

Honey: Where r u rn?

You: Outside.

Honey: what I literally don't see you

You: ???? Am I at the wrong house???

Honey: js kidding lmao im coming out in a few minutes

Surely enough, he sees your figure leave the house after a few minutes, silver and copper keys closing the mahogany door.

When you sit in his car, it's the first he sees you all dolled up in a while. Your white peplum top and cherry perfume, sky-blue bell bottoms, the silver chain on your neck and the infinity bracelet on your wrist.

It's embarrassing, really, how much he's practically wrapped around your little finger.

"Where to?"

"Do you still remember where my mom lives?"

Yeah, he does. He remembers every minute detail about you.

"Yeah, I do. Hiraizumi then?"

You nod. He pulls out of your driveway and onto the road, tries to strike up conversation.

"How've you been these days?"

You blink. "Fine. You?"

"Good, good."

The silence feels awkward, to say the least. Neither of you know what to say, both too unwilling to talk to the other

Whatever, you're gonna be in there for a while anyway, might as well.

"In case you're wondering, my sister is pregnant again. It's her baby shower, and we're keeping it at mom's house. Her and the husband keep fucking like rabbits, so yeah."

He chuckles, "Didn't they have 3 kids ten years ago?"

"Yeah, this is their seventh. A girl, I think."

The car goes silent, he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye. The sun shines directly on his eyes, his dark circles more obvious than ever. Does he even sleep?

"I'm really sorry." He says, out of the blue. Sounds sad, regretful. "About everything."

You don't respond, opting to doze off in his car.

-\♡/-

"I'm sorry." You hear, it takes a second to register. "I can't be with you anymore."

"Oh."

Your fingers twitch at your eyes, yearning to hold something, anything.

Him, you want to hold him.

"Why?" You're confused. Things seemed to be fine, you've found no problems in your relationship.

"It's not you, just that my job makes it hard to be in any relationship." He tells you. Refuses to meet your eyes.

The cigarette falls from your hand, ash mixing with gravel. Yet he looked so beautiful now, even as he tore your heart out and ate it.

"Can't we just- you know, keep it a secret?" He shakes his head, answering with words that break you into pieces.

"When can you come by and pick up your stuff?"

-\♡/-

When you wake up, you're in time to see, or rather, hear him pull the car into the driveway.

Should you open your eyes? Nah.

Yuuta touches your shoulder, once, twice and shakes it last. "Wake up, honey." He says, nauseatingly sweet. You're disgusted. Why does he still call you that?

You pretend to wake up, pretend to not be dazed by your nightmare dream.

Your mouth tastes sour now, like it did back then.

"Did you want to come inside?" You offer. He refuses, the beginnings of an excuse forming on his pale lips.

Your mother is, as usual, ecstatic to see you. She jumps of joy, which really shouldn't be possible considering her arthritis. She takes the small gift from your outstretched hand, For the new mommy! and sends you off to talk to the rest of your family.

You don't.

You trip over a pink lego block on your way to the bathroom, a disgruntled child barking a hey! to you.

You stare at your face in the mirror for a hot minute.

Why did you do this? You have friends, friends who aren't your exes, who have cars, who could bring you to this shitty excuse of a party.

The only conclusion you come to is that you're still dumb, still naive. Just as you were ten years ago.

You wipe away your tears quickly. Can't ruin your eyeliner.

-\♡/-

The ride home is uneventful as you imagined, just as quiet as the was before, only this time, he doesn't let you out just yet.

"Can you stay?"

You're caught off-guard. After everything?

"Yuuta, I'm not yours anymore. I gave up, I gave up five years ago when you changed your number."

He sighs. You see tears start to well up in his eyes.

He offers to walk you to the front door. You take it.

As he's on your porch, watching you fumble your keys into the lock, you think he looks pathetic as ever.

Something told you to let him leave, to block his number, that he'd accept it. But you're dumb, and when the door opens, you find all of your pent-up frustration, sadness, love, and pain explode in an instant, and you're locking lips with him in less than that.

He tastes like strawberries and cereal, just like he did back then. Your mouth doesn't taste as sour now.

"Don't leave me."

"I'll stay."

"Don't you dare leave me again."

"I won't."

And you hate him. You hate how you remember everything about him, how you stopped smoking because it reminded you of him. You hate that you still have things that are his, that you keep as yours. You hate the fact that you've been in two relationships that left you unsatisfied, even disgusted since he left.

You hate how much you love him.

And when you wake up in the morning, smelling like him, naked save for the shirt you don, you wonder if he still tastes like strawberries. If he'll leave.

But you remember how much he cried apologies into your chest and you think he won't, not this time.

Sorry it took so long, I tried my best. Much love,

-rosie

rosie!! are you trying to kill me? are you trying to eliminate my entire bloodline? i’m on the floor !!!!

the mood. the angst. the pining. my heart is flatlining beep beep beep beeeeeeee—

my favorite line: “I lied. People lie. You of all people should know that.” “Ah.”

a bullet straight to the chest 💔 get his ass mc LMAO she’s ruthless but also i would be too. secretive bitch 😭😭 yuuta fumbled goodness gracious!!

but wow the audacity of yuuta to try to re-enter her life. what a desperate, pathetic man. i need him. also every time mc calls yuuta pathetic an angel sings <333 like you just know the way to my heart i love it.

i’m glad yuuta cried like the little baby he is & i’m glad they got together in the end. i hope yuuta is on a leash til the end of his days. i hope he spoils her rotten and makes up for all the time wasted. 🤍🤍🤍

rosie ur so cool and cute and creative it’s cwazy. don’t feel bad abt the time it took. i’m so so appreciative of you writing a single word, firstly, plus it takes me centuries to write like a paragraph lmaooo. producing something of this length & quality is quick imo 🤷🏽‍♀️ anyways i’m wishing u the best of luck with uni. trust me, i get it, but you’ve got this.

[ ps. i wrote a teensy tiny drabble with a yuuta x civilian!reader a couple days ago heheheh and tho it & what’s not yours are rlly nothing alike, some of the themes are pretty similar?? especially the dialogue towards the end… yeah we’re locked IN 🔐. ima post it today and dedicate it to you, mi amor. ]