#about how the memory will last as long as they live

[skyedancer-system]

Going into Poppy Playtime Chap. 4 I was not expecting to get halfway decent plural rep but here we are????

Spoilers for the new chapter under the cut, and also cw for all the general Poppy Playtime stuff (child death + experimentation, body horror, if you know the game you get the gist)

SO THIS GUY HUH

Doey the Doughman, the surprise character revealed just days before the chapter dropped and who finally answered the question of the red/orange/yellow hand imagery we’ve been getting teased with for so long

In the chapter himself he’s pretty important to the plot and is an ally to the player, Poppy, and Kissy for (most of) the chapter, and he’s a pretty nice guy just with a bit of a temper, and very overwhelmed by having to keep the Safe Haven together and protected in Poppy’s absence.

But his personal story? How he was created via Playtime Co.’s Bigger Bodies Initiative? Oh god it’s honestly one of the most messed up ones yet other than Yarnaby (and that’s saying something considering this is child experimentation we’re talking about, and Yarnaby lost his entire self and was treated like a straight up animal, isolated so he would love and obey Harley and only Harley)

Where most of the living toys were made from one child, Doey was made from three. Jack, a visitor to the factory that got caught in a freak accident and was taken into Playtime’s care for his medical recovery. Kevin, a problem child in the Playcare known for his anger issues. And Matthew, an extremely kind boy who tried to keep hopes up among all the orphans in the Playcare, and was a sort of leader to them.

And all three of them are still present in some form; at various points in the game you see them switch, speaking and thinking differently, with varying opinions on everything happening. And from the tape of the Jack’s parents seeing what Playtime did to their son, we see that the three have separate memories as well, at least they did when they were first put together.

And this plurality that was forced onto them isn’t played for scary points like you’d expect from a mascot horror game. Yes it is part of Doey’s monstrous design once they get upset, but them being upset is because everything they had worked to protect was destroyed by the Prototype. All of the other kids turned toys that had kept their consciousness and relied on Doey for protection, mercilessly killed. Anybody would be horrifically upset in that situation. And one of the three boys - Kevin - lashes out at the player, the other two trying to calm him down only for all of them to fall into anger and emotion.

You can clearly see the three kids; one angry, two sad, all of their emotions coming together into a grief induced rage, with physical pain only compounding it. And when you eventually have to kill them and put them out of their misery, their last words?

“I’m sorry.”

They were just kids; three kids forced into a horrible situation and having to learn to live with it. And for a long time it seems that they did, working together rather peacefully until their lives were upheaved by the arrival of the player and Poppy’s reappearance.

Kevin’s anger at everyone and the world is completely justified; I mean he and the other two were experimented on and then kept caged like animals, being practically forced to kill! He wanted to protect them; to avenge the countless others that had been killed by the Playtime scientists and the Prototype! And considering things only went to shit after the player and Poppy showed up? Well it’s no wonder that anger got directed at them

It it a super good depiction of plurality? No, not by a long shot. But it’s definitely way better than I would expect from a game like Poppy Playtime.

I was not expecting this post to get this long whoops fbsnbdns; if anyone else has anything they want to add though we’d love to hear it!

[luv-lock]

... # ☆ GOLDEN BOY .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 : Robin Dick Grayson x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 (𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯).

☆⁠ NOTES : 𝘛𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

It starts off innocently enough—just a little crush. You sit near him in class, maybe one row over, and you’re one of the only people who genuinely sees him, not as Bruce Wayne’s ward, not as the golden boy acrobat, but just Dick. The first time you smile at him? Oh, he’s done for. It’s over. That bright, genuine expression you give him after he cracks a dumb joke sends his heart into overdrive. He’s replaying it in his head for weeks. He starts noticing everything about you. The way you twirl your pen when you’re thinking, the soft hum you let out when you're focused, how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love. He starts making excuses to talk to you. “Hey, do you have the notes from last class?” even though he has a perfect memory. “Do you get the homework? I think I missed something.” He just wants to hear your voice, to make you focus on him.

At first, it’s all sweet, dorky teenage boy vibes. But then it starts getting a little intense. He watches you when you’re not looking—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little), but in a memorizing everything about you way. He just wants to understand you. What makes you laugh? What makes you frown? Who do you talk to the most? If you mention liking a certain song, you bet he’s listening to it on repeat that night. If you mention a favorite book, he’s reading it in one night just so he can bring it up casually. He adores hearing you say his name. He swears it sounds different coming from your lips. Whenever you do, he fights the urge to grin like an idiot. He gets jealous so easily, but he doesn’t show it in an obvious way. It’s more of a subtle coldness toward any guy you talk to for too long. If someone flirts with you, he’s immediately analyzing everything about them, thinking, What does she see in him?

He’s Robin before anything else, and that means he’s naturally protective. Gotham’s dangerous, and even if you don’t know his secret, he makes it his job to keep you safe. If you're walking home late? He just so happens to be taking the same route. Coincidence? He’d never admit it. He pays attention to how people treat you. If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable, he remembers. Not that he’d ever do anything drastic (yet), but they might find themselves getting mysteriously unlucky.

He doesn’t mean to know so much about you—it just happens. It’s not weird that he remembers your schedule, right? Or that he noticed when you switched shampoos? Or that he can tell when something’s bothering you before you even say anything? He doesn’t mean to follow you home sometimes. He just… wants to make sure you’re okay. Gotham’s dangerous, and you don’t have training like he does. And he definitely doesn’t mean to get distracted on patrol whenever he sees someone who looks like you. But for a split second, he forgets Gotham’s crime rate and thinks, Is she out this late? He’s self-aware enough to know this isn’t just a normal crush. But it’s harmless, right? He’s just watching out for you. If you ever casually compliment him—“You’re really smart, Dick” or “I like being around you”—he malfunctions. Completely. And if you ever initiate contact? Oh, he’s done. Completely, utterly, hopelessly yours.

Dick is a puppy when it comes to you. The second you walk into the classroom, he perks up. If he’s sitting, he straightens his posture. If he’s standing, he suddenly finds something super interesting about the wall just to avoid looking too eager. He lives for those little moments of eye contact. If you catch him staring, he plays it off like he was lost in thought—but inside? His brain is melting. He starts doodling your name in the margins of his notebooks without even realizing it. One day, he catches himself writing “Mr. and Mrs. Grayson” in the corner of his notes and nearly dies on the spot. If you ever say something nice about his eyes? Oh, you’ve ruined him. He will think about that compliment for weeks. Every time he looks in the mirror, he wonders, Does she like them this way? Does she think they’re pretty?

Whenever the teacher asks a question, he needs to be the one who answers it. Not because he’s a know-it-all, but because he wants you to see how smart he is. If you're struggling with something—anything—he’s immediately offering to help. Bad at math? Boom, he's suddenly your personal tutor (even though he secretly hates math). Need a partner for a project? He's already pulling his desk closer before you can even ask. He randomly picks up new skills just because you mentioned liking them. If you say you love guitar players? Guess who suddenly owns a guitar and is watching hours of tutorials? Gym class becomes his personal Olympics. If you're watching, he's running faster, jumping higher, and doing flips that are completely unnecessary just to get your attention.

If you so much as sigh in class, he notices. “You okay?” His voice is so soft, full of genuine concern, and he will not rest until you tell him what’s wrong. He remembers everything you say. Mentioned craving a certain snack? He’s “randomly” bringing it to school the next day. Said you liked a certain brand of lip balm? He notices every time you put it on. If you’re ever sad, he’s ready to drop everything. The moment you look upset, he leans in, voice low and sweet, “Hey… talk to me.” He’ll listen so intently, nodding at all the right moments, just aching to fix whatever’s wrong. He’s a natural gentleman around you. Holding doors open, pulling out chairs, letting you borrow his jacket when it's cold (even if he’s freezing). It’s second nature to him—he just wants to take care of you.

If you miss a day of school? He’s restless. Checking his phone way too much, tapping his pencil, wondering where you are, if you’re okay, if you miss him too. The day you come back? He’s practically glowing. “Hey! You’re back!” His voice is a little too excited, but he can’t help it. He loves when you talk to him first. The moment you say, “Hey, Dick!” in the hallway, he lights up like a Christmas tree. If you touch his arm while laughing? Oh. He’s not getting over that for at least a month. If you’re ever even slightly affectionate with him—resting your head on his shoulder, holding onto his wrist absentmindedly—he’s gone. He replays that moment forever, sighing like a lovesick fool in his room at night.

He has so many little fantasies about you. Not weird ones—just soft, innocent daydreams. Holding hands. Walking you home. Kissing you under the stars like in the movies. He imagines what it would be like if you were his. If he could just tell you how much you mean to him, if he could wrap his arms around you whenever he wanted, if he could finally call you his. But for now, he’s content just being close to you, memorizing every little thing about you, waiting for the moment when you’ll finally see him the way he sees you. Because to him? You’re already his—you just don’t know it yet.

Dick has been thinking about this for weeks. No—months. He’s built up so many little fantasies about it in his head. He imagines it happening naturally, like in the movies—maybe you’ll both laugh at something at the same time, your eyes will meet, and you’ll just know. But no. That’s not realistic. He needs a plan. So, naturally, he overthinks everything. Should he ask casually? Should he write a note? Should he just confess dramatically in the rain? (That one’s his favorite idea, but Gotham’s weather isn’t cooperating.)

He starts dropping little comments like, “Hey, you ever been to that cute café downtown?” or “Do you like Italian food?” If you mention liking a certain place, guess who suddenly loves that place too? “Oh, you like that diner? No way! I love that diner. We should totally go sometime…” He tests the waters constantly. “Would you ever go out with someone from our class?” (Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes—)

He practices in the mirror. A lot. He even tries different tones—cool and casual (“Hey, wanna grab a bite with me?”), nervous but sweet (“I was, um, wondering if you’d maybe wanna go out?”), and even overly confident (“Obviously, you should go on a date with me.”). But the moment he actually sees you? Oh. His brain malfunctions. “Hey—uh—so—okay—hypothetically, if a guy—like me—were to, um, ask you to hang out—but like, not as friends, more like a date—what would you, uh… think?” The second he says it, he wants to die. That was NOT what he practiced. That was awful. But you laugh. Not at him—just at how adorably flustered he is. And oh, if your laugh wasn’t already his favorite sound, it definitely is now.

If you say yes? Oh. He short-circuits. He’s trying to stay cool, but inside? Explosions. Fireworks. The Bat-Signal shining just for him. “Really? I mean—yeah! Cool! Totally cool. Um, how’s Friday? Or Saturday? Or any day? I’m free. Like, always. For you.”

Once you say yes, he goes into full-on mission mode. He has to make this perfect. This isn’t just a date—it’s your first date together, meaning it has to be something you’ll remember forever. He spends an embarrassing amount of time deciding what to wear. He changes outfits at least five times before realizing, “Oh God, I’m worse than Bruce.” He arrives early. He tells himself not to, but he literally cannot be late. In fact, he’s been there so long that by the time you show up, he’s already memorized the entire menu.

When He Sees You… Oh. He’s gone. The moment he lays eyes on you, it’s like the world just stops. “Wow.” He says it without thinking, and then immediately tries to cover it up with a cough. “I mean—not that you don’t always look great! Because you do. All the time. But tonight? Wow.” (He is so embarrassing. And he does not care.)

He’s lowkey flexing. Not in an arrogant way, but in a please find me impressive way. He talks about his training (“I mean, gymnastics is kinda my thing…”), but downplays it like it’s not incredibly cool.

When you least expect it, he gets weirdly soft. He looks at you when you’re not paying attention, like he’s memorizing you. Like he can’t believe you’re real.

When he walks you home, he wants to hold your hand. He wants to kiss you, but he’s too nervous (what if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t want that?) “I had fun tonight,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. He really wants to ask if he can kiss you. But instead, he blurts out— “So, um. Can I… take you out again?” (His voice is so hopeful—he looks like a puppy waiting for a treat.) Yes? Oh! Congratulations, you have just made his entire year. He’s smiling so hard all the way home, practically skipping. The second he gets home, he flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, sighing like a total fool. She said yes. She had fun. She’s gonna be mine. I just know it.

Oh. You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. Dick is the most devoted boyfriend on the planet. He’s not just in love—he’s obsessed (in the cutest, puppy-eyed way possible). He still can’t believe you’re actually his. Every time he sees you at school, his heart flutters. He gets this dumb, lovesick smile on his face and can’t even hide it. If you so much as look at him in the hallway? Oh, he’s grinning like an idiot. If you say his name? His entire day is made. He constantly reminds himself, She’s my girlfriend now. I get to love her. I get to take care of her. And that? Oh, he will take that job very seriously.

He always waits for you after class. No matter where you sit, what you’re doing—he’s outside the door, waiting with a big grin. “Hey, babe.” (He’s still getting used to calling you that, but he loves it.) He carries your books without you even asking. If you have a heavy bag? He’s grabbing it before you can protest. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you carry all this, huh?” He starts noticing everything about you. Your little habits, the way you fidget when you’re nervous, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking. He loves memorizing you.

Oh, he is so clingy, but he tries so hard to play it cool. He wants to be around you all the time. He has zero chill when it comes to other guys. The moment he notices some random dude even looking at you? His entire mood shifts. He doesn’t make a scene, but he gets super touchy. Arm around your shoulder. Hand on your waist. Pulling you closer. Just little things to remind everyone— She’s mine. If a guy gets too bold? Oh. Dick doesn’t get jealous—he gets possessive. He won’t start a fight (unless he has to), but his presence alone is enough to make people back off. “Everything okay, babe?” He asks, voice casual—but his grip on your waist tightens just a little.

He is so cheesy. He will literally text you “Good morning, beautiful ❤️” every single day. If you ever fall asleep on him? Oh. That’s it. That’s his favorite thing in the entire world. He’ll sit there, completely still for hours, just so he doesn’t wake you. He keeps every little thing you give him. If you write him a note? He treasures it. If you give him a silly doodle? He tucks it in his wallet. He gets so excited every time you touch him first. If you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, lean against him? He plays it cool on the outside, but inside? Explosions. “I’m gonna marry her one day,” he definitely tells himself after, staring at the ceiling like a fool.

In his mind? This is it. You and him? You’re meant to be. There is no future where you’re not together. He doesn’t just think about your future together—he fantasizes about it. What your life will be like. How he’ll propose one day. How you’ll be his forever. She loves me. She has to. She’s mine. If you ever mention breaking up? Oh. No. That isn’t an option. He can’t lose you. But he’s not crazy. No, no. He’s rational. If you ever tried to leave him, it would only be because you were confused. You just need to see how perfect you are together. And if that means proving his love over and over again? He’ll gladly do it. Because you are his.

You have officially unlocked the most devoted, lovesick, slightly delusional boyfriend ever. He worships the ground you walk on. He adores you. There is nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for you. In his mind? This isn’t just young love. This is forever.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[pretentious-blonde]

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down! also if anyone wants a pt. 2 with steve trying to help move r in i am so down! i have so many ideas!!!

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on. 

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright. “Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar. 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit. Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness. He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard. 

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating. 

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen. 

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it. “Yeah, I do.” 

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity. “Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn’t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you, putting him at ease. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked. 

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away. 

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response. 

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive. You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest. 

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay. “Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more. “That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to. “Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward. 

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish. 

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.” It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me buy you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly. So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?” In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street. 

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.

[suunani]

remembrance ( johnny suh )

▍ it’s been weeks since johnny last saw you, and he can’t wait to see you again.

content : 2.1k words, male reader, established relationship, lot of memories (written in italics), angst, hurt / comfort, soft & domestic moments, requested here!

johnny adjusted the bouquet of white tulips in his hands, his fingers curling slightly around the stems as he walked, his pace slow but steady.

the cold air nipped at his cheeks, but he barely noticed. he was focused on the flowers, their delicate petals soft beneath his touch. he wanted them to be perfect. it was the least he could do, even if it didn’t feel like enough.

the past month had been a blur — rehearsals, travel, late-night recordings, a schedule that seemed to have no end. johnny hated it. he hated how time slipped away from him, how the days seemed to vanish before he could catch his breath.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks. the guilt gnawed at him, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that he hadn’t been there for you the way he wanted to. the last time he had held you, kissed you, told you he loved you, it felt like a lifetime ago. too long.

johnny glanced at the tulips in his hands again. you had always loved white tulips — peace and remembrance, you’d said.

he didn’t know why he remembered that now, but the thought of it made him pause for a moment. he could almost hear your voice, your gentle laugh when you’d first told him, the way you’d talked about flowers like they had their own language.

you had always had a way with words.

“if you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

johnny chuckled, rolling over to face you on the couch. the two of you were curled up in a blanket, just passing the time in a comfortable silence.

you’d tilted your head, an eyebrow arched as you glanced at him. “come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

“of course i’ve thought about it,” he replied, laughing. “but if i’m being honest, i don’t know what i’d pick. maybe… invisibility? i could sneak up on you and surprise you when you least expect it.”

you smiled and shook your head, clearly not impressed. “that’s just sneaky.”

“exactly,” johnny grinned. “and you know how much i love surprising you.”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “i’m still not sure how i feel about being sneaked up on all the time.”

“well, too bad,” johnny teased, leaning closer. “now that i’ve got invisibility, you’re stuck with me.”

you didn’t resist, instead reaching over to tug him closer with a quiet laugh.

“what about you?” johnny asked after a beat, gently squeezing your hand. “what would you pick?”

you didn’t hesitate.

“i’d want to time travel,” you said, eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and something deeper. “imagine all the places i could go, the things i could see. i could relive moments i’ve missed, change little mistakes. i could even meet people from the past and see how they lived.”

johnny smiled softly at your enthusiasm. “what would you do with all that power?”

you paused for a moment, looking almost wistful.

“i don’t know. maybe i’d go back to my favorite days. or forward… to see the future.” your voice softened. “maybe i’d even go back to when you and i first met. i’d want to remember it all over again.”

johnny’s breath caught in his throat as he walked, the weight of your words settling on him. the memory of that conversation, of your excitement about the idea of time travel, was more vivid than he’d expected.

he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing.

what if he could really go back? what if he could relive those early days, hold onto every moment and never let go? but time didn’t work that way.

time kept moving, never stopping for anyone. it moved without care, without mercy.

his hand tightened around the tulips.

the ache in his chest grew. he wished he could just freeze everything, stay in those moments where you laughed with him, where things were simple, where you were right next to him.

“babe, i swear to god, if you fall—”

“i won’t fall,” johnny called down, balancing precariously on a barstool as he attempted to hang the fairy lights you had insisted would make the apartment feel cozier.

from your spot on the floor, arms crossed, you gave him a deeply skeptical look. “i don’t trust you.”

johnny scoffed, reaching up to secure another hook on the wall. “wow. where’s the faith?”

“you lost it when you fell off the couch last week trying to change a lightbulb.”

“that was different.”

“how?”

“…it just was.”

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “huh. just finish hanging them up before i have to call 911.”

johnny smirked, eyes still on his task. “relax baby. i got this.”

and then, right on cue, the stool wobbled.

before he could react, gravity took over. his arms flailed, the fairy lights tangling in his hands as he went down with a loud thud.

silence. then—

“…baby, i think i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you stood over him, biting your lip, trying (and failing) to suppress your laughter. johnny groaned dramatically, sprawled out on the floor with the lights draped over him like some kind of tangled christmas decoration.

“don’t laugh. this is a serious injury.”

“you landed on a pillow.”

“it hurts.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. instead, you sank down beside him, resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, his breathing slowing as the initial shock faded.

“you’re an idiot,” you murmured fondly.

johnny grinned, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer. “mhh, but you love me anyway.”

you sighed, your voice softer now. “yeah… i do.”

johnny’s throat tightened as he walked, the memory wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.

it had been one of those ordinary moments, one of those insignificant nights that didn’t feel all that important at the time. but now, it was everything.

it was funny, how memories worked.

the big milestones, the grand gestures. those faded first. but the little things? the teasing, the stolen glances, the way you fit so perfectly against him when you curled into his side. those were the ones that stayed.

the ones that haunted him.

he let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep moving.

it had started as a joke, just a silly moment.

you’d stolen one of johnny’s rings, slipping it onto your own finger with a dramatic flourish, holding out your hand like a queen expecting her crown.

“i think this suits me, don’t you?” you’d teased, tilting your head as you admired the way the bright metal caught the light.

johnny had rolled his eyes, laughter bubbling up from deep within him. “i think you just want to marry me.”

you smiled. “maybe i do.”

the playful banter had made him laugh then, but later, when the apartment had quieted and the lights had dimmed, he found himself lying awake beside you, staring at your hand.

the ring still sat on your finger, loose but not falling off, the sight of it stirring something deep in his chest.

he had thought about it before, in passing. marriage. forever. but something about that night made the idea feel real, tangible.

he could see it so clearly — standing in front of you, his heart pounding as he slipped a real ring onto your finger. he could hear your breath hitch, picture the way your eyes would widen before softening into that smile that always undid him.

it was terrifying.

it was exhilarating.

it was just another dream that would never come true.

a dream that had once felt so close, so real, like something he could reach out and grasp if only he tried hard enough.

but now, it was just a cruel mirage, something that taunted him in his sleep and left him gasping for air when he woke up alone.

johnny looked up, and his heart clenched.

he was here.

the cemetery stretched before him, vast and still, the kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful but suffocating. the kind of silence that pressed down on his chest, making it harder to breathe with each step forward.

his legs felt like lead as he took those final, dreaded steps toward your grave. he didn’t need to look for it — his body already knew the way. muscle memory had betrayed him, guiding him here like a path he had walked a thousand times before.

he hated this.

he hated how familiar this walk had become, how routine it was now to bring you flowers instead of taking you out to dinner. hated how, instead of texting you to say i’m on my way, he was standing here, staring down at your name etched into cold, unfeeling stone.

it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair.

his fingers trembled slightly as he knelt down, carefully placing the white tulips at the base of the headstone. he smoothed his palm over the petals, as if trying to fix something, as if trying to make them perfect — because that was the least he could do for you now.

then, slowly, his hand reached for the stone. his fingertips traced over the carved letters of your name, and the moment they made contact, a fresh wave of grief crashed over him. his vision blurred, but he refused to close his eyes. if he did, he’d see you too clearly.

and right now, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

“hello, my love,” he whispered, his voice barely more than breath. “i couldn’t come earlier. i’m truly sorry.”

the wind rustled the trees above him, a soft, almost gentle sound — the only response to his words.

a quiet, bitter laugh escaped him as he shook his head. “i brought you flowers again.”

a single tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it, landing on the cold stone below. he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, but it didn’t matter.

there would always be more tears.

“i know you’d tell me not to cry,” he murmured. his voice cracked, uneven. “that it’s okay. that you’d wait for me, no matter how long it took.”

his hands curled into fists on his lap. he let out a shaky breath, his chest tight, his throat burning.

“but it’s not fair,” he whispered. “it’s not okay. i was supposed to have more time with you.”

more mornings waking up next to you, sunlight spilling through the curtains as you sleepily reached for him. more lazy afternoons spent curled up on the couch, talking about nothing and everything all at once. more laughter, more kisses, more nights tangled up in each other under the covers.

more everything.

but instead, all he had were memories that felt more like ghosts, lingering in the corners of his mind, haunting him in ways he never thought possible.

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “i still don’t know how to do this without you.”

johnny sat there for a long time, his fingers resting against the stone, his heart heavy in his chest. the world kept moving around him, but he stayed still, unwilling to leave just yet.

eventually, he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the sky. the clouds had shifted, revealing a sliver of blue. it was a small thing, barely noticeable. but it was something.

maybe you were up there somewhere, watching him, waiting for him. maybe you were still with him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

he wanted to believe that.

he needed to believe that.

johnny pressed a soft kiss to his fingers before touching them to your name.

“i love you,” he whispered. “i’ll see you soon, okay?”

he stood slowly, his legs unsteady beneath him, his body reluctant to leave but his heart knowing he had to.

with one last glance, he turned and walked away.

it was a long walk back home, but it would be the only place he’d ever feel your presence again.

[lvrsatoru]

╭ pairing ⸺ gojo satoru x reader

╭ drabble ⸺ 2.1k, before his final fight with sukuna, gojo reunites with someone he thought had been long gone </3 sorry in advance luvs

𐙚 december 24th, age 28

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

his mind loops over the thought, unable to process it, unable to accept it. his six eyes tell him it’s real—she’s real—every fiber of his being tuned to the cursed energy signature he knows better than his own.

but it can’t be.

because he was 23 when he kissed her goodbye for the last time. because he was 23 when he got the call, when he read the report, when he stared at the empty space where her body should’ve been.

because forever had lasted less than a year.

and yet—

“satoru,” she whispers, hesitant, careful.

his name in her voice sends a violent shudder through him.

his infinity is still up. she hasn’t touched him. she can’t.

but he feels her anyway.

it’s muscle memory, instinct. his body still reacts to her, still leans toward her even as his mind tells him to run.

he doesn’t.

but he doesn’t move forward, either.

she takes another slow step, like she’s afraid he’ll bolt.

“you look different,” she says, soft but teasing, a poor attempt at levity.

his throat is too tight to respond.

her gaze drifts over him, and the weight of it makes his skin prickle, makes him aware of how much he has changed.

his hair is shorter now, with the undercut he gave himself one night, after she’d left. he’s leaner, stronger, his body hardened by war and loss and time.

but she—she looks like she’s lived, like she has known something beyond grief and battle and the never-ending ache of survival.

and it makes him feel sick.

like she’s had years he wasn’t a part of. like she kept going while he stood still.

like the dead had the audacity to age.

“where the hell have you been?” his voice comes out strangled, hoarse, barely a whisper.

her expression shifts, guilt flashing across her face before she can hide it.

“satoru—”

“where have you been?” louder, harsher this time.

she flinches.

and it kills him, because she’s not supposed to flinch at him.

she takes another step forward, cautious, careful.

his infinity is still up.

she stops.

“you’re not real,” he says flatly, more to himself than to her.

she blinks, startled. “what?”

“you’re not real. you’re a trick. a clone. a shapeshifter. an illusion.” he lists them off mechanically, like if he keeps saying it, it’ll become the truth.

but his six eyes don’t lie.

and neither does the ache in his chest.

she swallows, and for the first time, he sees the fear in her eyes.

but it’s not fear of him.

it’s fear for him.

he hates it.

he hates that she still looks at him like that. like he’s something fragile, like she’s worried he’s about to fall apart.

because he is.

he is, and she knows it.

she’s always known.

“satoru, it’s me,” she says, voice softer now, and god, it sounds like home.

he shakes his head.

no.

no, no, no, no

this is cruel.

this is so fucking cruel.

“you died,” he says, as if saying it aloud will make it true again.

her face crumples, and he has to look away, has to stare at the ground because if he meets her eyes, he’s going to break.

“i had to leave,” she whispers.

his jaw clenches.

“you left,” he repeats, voice hollow.

she hesitates. “i—”

“you left.”

his infinity flickers.

just for a second.

just long enough for her to step forward, just enough for her to lift a hand to his face—

just enough for her fingers to brush against his skin.

he shatters.

the breath rushes out of him like he’s been struck. his legs feel weak. his hands, which have been clenched into fists, loosen, tremble.

her hand is warm, so impossibly warm.

it has been five years since someone has touched him like this.

since she has touched him like this.

he wants to pull away, wants to shove her back and demand why, why, why, why she thought she had the right to do this, to touch him, to stand here in front of him like she hadn’t been a ghost for half a decade.

but he doesn’t.

he can’t.

he leans into it instead, his face tilting into her palm like it’s instinct, like he has no choice in the matter.

and maybe he doesn’t

maybe he never has.

“you left,” he whispers, softer this time, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

“i’m sorry.”

it’s so quiet he barely hears it.

but he feels it.

feels the tremor in her hand, the way her thumb brushes against his cheekbone, the way her fingers tighten against his skin like she’s afraid he might slip away.

like he’s the ghost.

“you left me,” he repeats, because it’s the only thing he can hold onto, the only thing that makes sense in all of this.

“i know.”

“you—” his voice breaks, and he hates himself for it, hates the way his shoulders shake, hates the way he can’t stop leaning into her.

her forehead rests against his, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breath coming out shaky and uneven.

“i know,” she whispers again, her voice cracking.

his hands move on their own, gripping her waist, holding her there.

he shouldn’t.

he shouldn’t.

but he does.

he clutches her like she might disappear again, like she might slip through his fingers if he lets go.

she wraps her arms around him.

and that’s when he breaks.

a sound leaves him—something between a sob and a laugh, something raw and guttural and helpless—and he buries his face in her shoulder, his whole body trembling.

she smells the same.

she feels the same.

but everything else is different.

he is different.

“i thought i was getting better,” he breathes. “i thought i—I thought I was moving on.”

“i know,” she says, holding him tighter.

“i wasn’t.”

“i know.”

he swallows, his throat tight, his hands clenching at the fabric of her clothes.

“i still love you,” he admits, and it feels like surrender, like defeat.

she exhales, a shaky, broken thing, and pulls back just enough to cup his face again.

“i still love you too,” she whispers.

it’s unfair.

it’s so fucking unfair.

because she’s here.

but she won’t be for long.

and he’s about to die.

they stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, both afraid to let go. he clings to her, hands curled into the fabric at her waist, like if he holds on tight enough, time will stop, and none of this will matter.

but he knows better.

time has never been kind to him.

“you have to go, don’t you?” he murmurs.

she stiffens.

he pulls back just enough to look at her, to search her face for answers, and god—he hates that she looks guilty.

“tell me,” he says, voice quiet but firm.

she bites her lip, hesitates.

and that alone is enough to set him off.

he pulls back entirely now, hands falling from her like she’s burned him.

“don’t,” he snaps. “don’t look at me like that. like you already know how this ends.”

“satoru—”

“don’t.”

she exhales, looks away.

and fuck, it’s happening again, isn’t it? she’s leaving again.

“why?” he demands. “why now? why show up just to—” he stops himself before he can say it, before he can put words to the fear clawing at his throat.

just to leave me again.

she steps forward again, hesitant, like she’s unsure if she’s still allowed.

but his infinity is still down.

he hates himself for it.

“there are things i can’t tell you,” she says finally, and he wants to scream.

“that’s bullshit.”

her jaw tightens. “it’s the truth.”

he laughs, sharp and humorless, runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“i spent five years thinking you were dead,” he says, voice low, almost trembling. “five years, and you come back just to—just to what? tell me there are things you can’t tell me? give me some cryptic half-truths and expect me to accept it?”

“it’s not that simple.”

“it never is with you.”

she winces.

it makes him feel sick.

“do you think this is easy for me?” she asks, voice cracking.

he stares at her, and for the first time since he’s seen her again, he lets himself really look.

her hair is longer, her face a little older. she carries herself differently now, like someone who’s had to live a life she never wanted.

it hits him then—she didn’t want this, either.

but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“why did you come back?” he asks, quiet now, all the fight drained out of him.

she takes a shaky breath.

“because you’re about to fight sukuna,” she says.

his stomach drops.

he had almost forgotten.

almost.

the weight of the truth settles in his chest.

she came back because she knows.

“you think I’m going to lose,” he says flatly.

her eyes are glassy, but she doesn’t deny it.

his breath catches.

“i don’t—” he swallows, shakes his head. “i don’t know how to do this.”

she reaches for him again, and this time, he lets her.

her fingers trail over his cheek, down his jaw, feather-light and devastating.

“neither do i,” she whispers.

and suddenly, he hates her for this.

for coming back, for giving him this sliver of something just to take it away again.

but he can’t be angry.

because she’s here.

she’s here.

and it’s the cruelest thing the universe has ever done to him.

“stay,” he says, and it’s not a demand—it’s a plea.

she swallows hard, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“i can’t.”

his hands tighten on her waist, his chest aching so badly he can hardly stand it.

“please.”

she shakes her head, her own tears slipping free now.

“i can’t,” she says again, and it shatters him.

he presses his forehead to hers, closes his eyes, breathes her in.

because this is all he gets.

a stolen moment before the end.

she holds him just as tightly.

“i love you,” she whispers.

his breath hitches.

“i still love you,” she says, voice breaking. “i never stopped.”

his chest cracks open at that, something deep inside him splintering beyond repair.

his grip tightens, fingers digging into her like he can carve her into his skin, like he can keep her here.

he doesn’t say it back.

because it’s never been a question.

because of course he loves her.

of course he does.

he always has.

he always will.

but she’s already slipping away.

and he lets her go.

[realisticpregerotica]

Reconnected

18+ MDNI

2.7k words

Contains: Pregnant sex, MF sex, oral sex, light lactation

Marshall remembered Jane. They were in the same classrooms, they might have even done a project together and exchanged numbers to work on it after school. Even after their classes were over they added each other on facebook. Maybe he would have made a move, but even during the time he had known her she was still attached to 

Through casual glances on their facebook feeds they would be updated on milestones in their changing lives. Marshall saw The pictures of her trips to the Caribbean, her office parties, and eventually pictures of her engagement ring and with her fiance to her side. And in less than a year, a beautiful wedding.

It was only natural that a decade and some change later Jane was expecting a child with her husband. The pictures of her positive pregnancy test were followed by a sonogram of her peanut sized child. When he recalled the brief memories he had in high school his head began to spin. Somebody that he had grown up with was pregnant. 

Over the weeks she had beamed with pride alongside her less frequent pictures of her husband. Despite his conflicted feelings of seeing Jane’s growing body on his timeline he knew it was unethical to contact her for the selfish reasons of his hidden fetish. She had worked so hard to start this family and become a good wife and mother.

That was, until the news had broken in private stories. Her husband had sent her divorce papers in her second trimester. That confidence seemed to fade as life updates revealed that her smile had lost its shine until the pictures stopped following altogether until one day he saw her name show up on the Springfield Dating group. 

‘Hello everybody! I’m new to dating. I’ve been a resident here my whole life. 

Your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. I’m pregnant, and this is an old picture. My husband and I are separated. I’m looking into getting into dating again…’

And into a leap of faith, he sent the first message. 

~

A half hour had passed since the time they had agreed on. Marshall had accepted the loss and had lived with the thought of knowing that he tried. Right when he began to make peace with his night alone a woman sounded like she had bumbled into the glass door.

Rather, only one part of her body entered the room before she did. And as she entered he saw the composition of her outfit beyond the outstretched fabric that slung her heavy midsection. She wore a lacy red dress, one not meant to accommodate the weight of a woman so far along her pregnancy. Her outstretched belly had forced the middle of her shirt to ride up her thighs with every step, threatening to reveal her underwear. She caught Marshall’s eyes and the man waved her over. 

Shit… Shit! Shitshitshit-

The way that she clumsily made her way to their two person table made Marshall lose any composure that he could have conjured over his sudden moment of preparation. “Unf-” Jane huffed upon landing against the chair in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry! It took a lot longer to get ready than I thought it would!” As she sat down gravity acted accordingly against the curves of her heavy body, bobbing against her hardly contained body. The impact of her landing made her breasts begin to spill from the top of her chestline. She pulled her dress upwards, as if she’d been dealing with this wardrobe malfunction all night.

“No worries! I’m glad you could make it.” He slid her chair in, making her jump with the sudden reveal of how heavy she was, not that Marshall noticed. He was too focused on regaining his composure.

Don’t make it all about her pregnancy, weirdo. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine. Very, very pregnant, as you could see.” The exasperation in her voice made Marshall's heart skip a beat as her fingertips ran along either pole of her belly. It was going to be a very long night.

It began recalling their old high school days. When the topic of the one semester had dried they moved on to the last decade they had. Her divorce did come up, but it was through the lens of deep regret for anything other than the children she was more than prepared to mother. By the time the check came around Marshall was ready to drop the question

“Hey. I… Um, don’t live too far around here. If I could save you a trip in the dark.” Jane paused under the shadow of the night, where she was just confident enough that she could hide her excitement. “My ex hasn’t gotten all of his stuff out of our home yet. I’m really sick of living with all of his junk.” She was rambling. “I guess, I’m saying,” She swallowed.

“Please?” 

~

The drive back to Marshall’s apartment was quiet with unclear expectations in the front seat. The end of their trip ended with an elevator trip to the second floor of Marshall’s complex.

“Can I get you anything?” 

“... Yeah…” Jane replied. “Is your bed more comfortable than your couch?” Any time that he had tried to avoid coming face to face with his desire for her body Jane had only reeled him in closer. If she pressed any harder he wasn’t sure how much harder he could hide it. 

They made their way into Marshall's room where Jane cautiously invited herself on Marshall's bed. Carefully scanning for his reaction. “It's a bit of a tight fit… I was so worried about getting it on that I had no idea how I was going to take it off.”

I have to tell her. She has to know that I'm only here physically and that she is everything that I've ever wanted. 

“Oof~” Jane sighed as the zipper  practically undid itself under the weight of her massive breasts. Her skin shined in Marshall’s moonlit bedroom. The dress had really clung onto the widest part of her belly. With persistence, the cloth finally came free, exposing the figure of the heavily pregnant  woman before him

“It’s a lot… Isn’t it?” Jane’s voice softened. Her grip around her dress tightened as she got prepared to hide the blossoming round of her life bearing body.

“N-no.” Marshall’s hands laid on top of hers. With no resistance at all, her wrists lowered. The rest of Jane’s pregnant body was liberated from the ties of her ill fitting dress. Marshall couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as he helped slide the rest of the outfit down her widened hips. The way he looked so intently made Jane’s heart race with eagerness. Her body became nothing more but an obligation for her ex-husband 

Marshall braced himself, hyper aware of what it would look like if he acted too quickly. Every inch closer to her body felt like another foot closer to the sun. Who knew if he would ever have a woman like Jane in his bedroom ever again 

“May I?” Jane nodded. Marshall’s hands carefully explored the object of desire nestled into her midsection.

“H-haa.” Her skin still yielded slightly. He relished the amount of space her round belly occupied. He felt the sides of her belly that distended from her swollen midsection. Of course it did, she still had a couple of months to go. He could feel his heartbeat against his throat so hard that Marshall was scared that every exhale would expose the excitement her gravid body gave him. 

She was in the company of a person who shared just as much excitement towards her body as she had. His touch was indulgent, ready to feel the swell of life she had carried for 7 whole months in her womb. The external focus sent a tingle down her spine that got a moan from her lips as she pushed her midsection further into his hands. 

His hands explored the area right below her bellybutton, lower, and lower until he caught the waistline of the fabric of her panties. Another obstacle that Jane assisted to remove. The pregnant mother laid against his sheets, exposed before him. 

“I’m sorry. My belly… Makes it hard for me to shave…” Her hands covered her face in embarrassment but her legs stayed spread open, not daring to close themselves an inch. Enticed by the warmth of her juicy sex Marshall couldn’t wait any longer. His tongue indulged to feel every inch of her pussy.

For the first time in many months Jane’s neglected body filled with pleasure. Her body worked overtime for a cocktail of oxytocin. All of the stresses in her life melted away into pleasure against the most sensitive parts of her pussy. The missing piece of what she needed for a healthy pregnancy. 

“Oh f-fuck!” Jane stammered. She tried to shove her body downwards to thrust her pregnant pussy into Marshall’s face. Her position pushed the weight of her unborn child against her vagina. The further she arched the more of her third trimester belly rested against Marshall’s forehead.

His senses were surrounded by her. He couldn’t help himself as he undid the button of his dress pants and let down his underwear. Jane could feel the quiver of his mouth against her. “I’m cumming-!” she cried as her voice was immediately cut off by the strain of an orgasm taking hold of her body for the first time in months. She stayed quiet, embarrassed to have cum so quickly she got her heavy body up to return the favor. 

He shifted position in her hands and moaned as he found the side of his dick against her belly. It wasn’t anything like stroking it with his hands. Even against the head of his active, excited cock the stretched skin of her midsection was warm. 

She’s pressing-

His thoughts were cut by the stimulation against her stomach as his forehead shot towards the ceiling. Jane milked the look of his pleasure, planting his member against the fleshy side of her stomach, letting him dig lightly into her soft skin. She paused, feeling the layer of wet, slippery precum that she willingly smeared against the side of her belly that lubed the side of her skin. A pause ended the overstimulation, Marshall’s breaths were ragged while locking into Jane’s eyes.

“D-do you like my body?” Jane asked. Although his cock was proof enough of this answer she needed to hear it verbally. “Yeah… I like your body a lot.” It was the truth, but Marshall’s chest ached to reveal to her the whole truth. For now his words were enough as she slowly began to navigate her body on top of him.

“Am I too heavy?” Jane asked. Marshall shook his head while he swallowed in anticipation. Her full weight made her straddle feel a lot more dense than any partner he had ever felt before. Jane's belly even pushed into him.Her thighs trembled while she found the right angle to get him to enter her warm vagina. With a heavy descent of her hips the couple simultaneously moaned. Jane for the neglect of her needy, hormonal body

Not even her exceptionally swollen folds could hide her slick vulva. He had fantasized for a long time, what the sex of a pregnant woman would feel like. He had thought of all of the cliches he had read in literature and saw in pornos. Jane’s body had delivered on every ounce of promise that pregnant sex had ever made to him. 

Their hips trembled as they felt the sensations of their sexes wash over him. The feeling that engulfed Marshall was an overwhelmingly soft tightness he had never felt before. Jane's quads ached from the effort it took for her to lift her heavy body. “Mnnngggh!” Jane grinded her hips with sexual frustration as she groaned against the limits of her heavy body.

His hand placed on her hips with reassurance as he assisted the expecting mother off of his hips and onto the comfort of his mattress. Her body supported against her side he approached her from behind, his cock stimulating her sex to soft moans. 

“Please tell me if I’m going too hard.” He pushed his hips into her and he felt her body lean into him for support as she groaned. His hand rested naturally atop her bump, a reminder that he was blessed with the opportunity to lay with such a beautiful woman.

With her ear against his lips as he rutted into her. “I really… Really love pregnant women…” 

His confession drew a whimper from Jane’s lips. Silenced by her grunts of pleasure from the hard cock pistoning inside of her all she could do was nod enthusiastically, submitting to the pleasure of her hormonal body. 

“Pregnancy is so sexy on you.” He muttered while continuing to rut into her from behind. Her body rippled so gently, sending shockwaves through her plump ass and thickened thighs. The vibrations rolled throughout her body, waking her child from within her as kicks pushed up against their mothers skin.

Her overstimulated body climbed to elation. Her body was floating. Every thrust she could feel the passion of her body being hungrily ravaged. Her belly was heavy, but supported in his hands and the soft cushion of his mattress. 

“Fuh-fuck. Marshall, I’m gonna cum-!”

“Ugh… Me too!” He cried as his thrusts got harder.  He grit his teeth and pumped like a rabbit as his load exploded into her, feeling every inch of her body coil around him as Jane came against the rock hard shaft. Their moans filled the room as they milked every sensation and twitch with their connected bodies. 

“F-fuck. I’m trembling. I need a second before round two.” Jane chuckled as she rested on her side. Marshall’s hand laid against her belly. She spread her legs while laid up on her back, letting him into a perfect view of her bump. Her legs stayed open, she eagerly spread herself for Marshall

“Do you think you can rock them to sleep inside of their mama?” The challenge enticed her former classmate. Their moans filled the room together as his bare cock entered her swollen opening. He could feel every soft ridge of Jane’s embrace inside of her as her warmth surrounded his cock.

“Mnhhhh~” He could melt inside of her pregnant pussy. At the very tip of his penis he could feel the lip of something round and hard. As he looked down to visualize his length inside of her he envisioned the entrance of her womb where her baby resided. 

Missionary made him take long strokes into her needy vagina as Jane felt every inch of his raw cock. She bit her lip as her insides clung into him needley despite cumming twice earlier in the night.

“Yessss.” She moaned hazily. Her fingers caught the tips of her massive breasts that hung on either side of her rounded midsection. She felt his insides clamp down upon him as she attacked the tips of her chocolate brown nipples, hard. Marshall saw beads of clear fluid build against her areolas. As she smeared her colostrum on her breasts it made her tits shine like lipgloss. 

Jane could feel Marshall stiffen inside of her, she was desperate for him to fill her completely. “Please, fuck me harder.” 

He mounted his body over hers, low enough to feel the firmness of her pregnant round against his stomach. Jane was anchored in place by his body and slammed into her hips. 

“Mnnhhh-Fuck!” Jane moaned, clinging onto his back. Every thrust shook her sensitive body as he mercilessly collided into her womb. “Yesyesyes!” She hummed with the new force of his thrusts. She took every collision into her deepest parts directly into her brain.

Marshall let out a weakened groan beyond grit teeth. Jane began to squirm underneath him as her sensitive sex was getting pounded into her next orgasm. “I’m-I’m” Marshall’s throat strained as he felt the release of another load for his pregnant lover. Jane squealed and gasped as she spasmed with the sensations of her puffy vagina getting filled with his hot seed. 

He removed himself from her as he looked down at her heaving body and a tired grin. Between them they could see the movements inside her stomach come to a gentle rest before the spent lovers laid together.

“Hey, I have 8 more weeks while I'm still your fetish.” Jane chuckled with a blush. He could see that confidence return in her smile. “Make the most out of it, okay?”

[espballs]

In The Best Way

Chapter 1 - Stray Hedgehog

♡ Summary: When Shadow wakes up in Agent Stone's apartment he expects that it'd just be the two of them living them together, so seeing a robot that looks like a copy of a certain blue hedgehog was the last thing he expected. ♡ Cross posted on AO3 ♡ Pairings: Sonic x Shadow, Metal Sonic x Amy

Shadow was exhausted. Falling from space after trying to destroy the world, being redeemed and then nearly dying saving it did that to you. 

Shadow had expected to die up there. But alas, fate loved him too much to let him die. 

Or it loved his suffering.

It didn’t matter, the issue was that Shadow was still alive, but now with no shelter or anything to nurture his health.

Slowly sitting up, the sand slipped off his body, he shook what remained out of his quills before realizing he may have just worsened his headache. Holding his head, he stood on shaky legs.

Distantly, he thought of Sonic. Had he survived the fall? Shadow knew they had saved the earth but had Sonic lived to know he had won? Shadow really hoped he did. In the few moments he had seen Sonic with the rest of his team, he noticed their closeness. They were like the siblings he had only seen on screens, he envied them for that.

He wasn't all there when he picked his inhibitor rings out the sand and put them back on his wrists. Almost immediately, the energy flowing through his body dulled, his muscles tensing as they adjusted to the restriction. But it felt normal, he felt a bit better now that he had them on.

Not that it mattered right now. He could barely stand as it was.

Shadow exhaled sharply, pressing a hand against his temple. His head throbbed in pain, the heat was starting to feel too much to bear, and his throat was dry with dehydration. They were all foreign and unwelcome feelings that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

His legs ached as he tried to step forward, almost falling. All the sand ahead of him blurred in his mind. The heat made it all look blurrier as his senses were overwhelmed by heat, pain, and exhaustion.

Had Tom survived? If Sonic hadn’t then his family would forever despise Shadow. If Sonic had survived, would he still be able to handle looking at Shadow knowing he was the one who took his father? Should he even bother looking for Sonic.

The only thing Shadow could ever bring Sonic was pain, it was best to just leave him alone from now on.

But where would he go?

Every step blended together as he drifted away from the world and retreated back into his mind. 

The ache in his chest hurt more with every passing moment, it was the only feeling he still felt in his haze. Every thought of Sonic warmed his heart before burning it with sadness, or a longing.

Maria was gone, yes, but her love remained. Sonic had reminded him that she would not want him to be lost in his grief. Maria wouldn’t want him to destroy the future to lose himself in the past.

Shadow needed to live with her wish and memory in his heart. But how could he live? After destroying the mountain he now had no shelter and he didn’t even know where in the world he was. Exhaustion weighed too heavily on his mind for him to even think about running or teleporting.

Shadow’s vision span as he finally fell forward, getting a mouthful of sand in the process. Shadow groaned as he lied their, sprawled out on the sand by choice. He was so exhausted he considered lying there and sleeping another fifty years to generate a way of life in that time.

A mechanical sound brought him back to the present. It was the hum of an engine or something. The hum growing louder each passing second, like it was getting closer.

Shadow listed his head out of the sand to see a familiar figure of blue.

Sonic.

Sonic shined like metal in the sun, that strange mechanical sound following him, and his footsteps sounded off. His eyes looked different than Shadow remembered.

Well what the hell, it's not like Shadow had even seen Sonic many times. The details were probably fuzzy in his brain. It was obviously Sonic: How many other blue alien hedgehogs were on earth? It's not like there were many aliens in general there!

Shadow buried his face back in the sand, letting Sonic approach without a word. Sonic’s presence was enough to make him feel warm and fuzzy again, but he didn’t know what to say to the blue blur or what to do.

All that mattered, was that Sonic was still alive.

The relief was enough to let him put his guard down and close his eyes, assured that Sonic would be there to help him figure out what to do when he woke up. 

The mechanical hum grew louder, but in Shadow’s dazed state, it barely registered. The sound seemed to blur in with the quiet hum of the desert wind. Shadow felt... safe. Safe in the presence of Sonic , oddly enough considering not long ago the hedgehog was on the verge of killing him.

Something cold and metallic touched Shadow’s shoulder, but he was too tried to process it. Already slipping off into sleep, he didn’t acknowledge the cold hands that lifted him up off the sand.

He didn’t even know the hands that held him were too cold to be Sonic’s.

Sonic was warm.

Shadow blinked once, then twice, the light overwhelming his senses. He was laid on something oddly comfortable with a strange pink blanket decorated with red hearts and a while cat holding a red heart in its paws. 

Shadow wondered if this was Sonic’s blanket, that’d be strangely out of the character that Shadow had depicted him as already. He almost laughed at the idea before a sizzling sound caught his attention. 

The kitchen was in clear view of his vision from the couch, but sitting up to see was a struggle. His body ached but at least his exhaustion has been eased. Shadow instinctively reached for his head, rubbing the dull throb at his temple, but then his gaze fell on the source of the sizzling sound.

A figure that Shadow knew stood by the stove, a man in a simple shirt and apron, stirring something in a pan. The sight of Agent Stone hit Shadow like a slap to the face. 

Had Sonic not been the one to save him? Was it all a hallucination?

If it wasn’t Sonic then who could it be? It wouldn’t make sense if Agent Stone was just wandering the desert unless he somehow knew Shadow would be there. Even then, how could he know and not someone else, like G.U.N?

Stone finally noticed him stirring on the couch and shot him a wide grin. "Ah! You're awake!" he said, turning from the stove to face Shadow, which seemed irresponsible, that salmon he was cooking might burn. "Figured you’d need some time to wake up! How are you feeling?"

Shadow groaned, sitting upright with his head in his hands. “Horrible” he answered simply. Feeling a-bit disappointed that the first person he saw was Stone and not Sonic.

Agent Stone just smiled, shutting off the stove like a responsible person and moving the pan off its hot surface to cool down.  “I’ll show you to your room now, Shadow. So you can wash off and get comfortable!”

Shadow felt uneasy by Stone’s cheery tone before realizing the man had lost his boss, who he was in-love with. It was probably best that Stone try to keep smiling and being as nice as possible to any aliens who came his way—as strange as his behavior was—to not end up trying to destroy the world like Shadow had.

Robotnik sacrificed himself saving the world so Stone definitely wouldn’t destroy it anyways.

“Yeah, alright," Shadow mumbled, too tired to protest as he took a shaky step up and off the couch. Stone beckoned for him to follow and led him down the hall, the silence stretching between them. 

Shadow’s head was spinning with too many questions and way too many hypotheticals, more than he had ever been comfortable with. He tried to focus on the steps ahead, but all he could think about was Sonic—or the lack of Sonic.

Sonic had been a constant thought in his mind ever since he met the hedgehog, so had the feelings brought on by said hedgehog. Shadow was starting to miss his presence.

Finally, Stone stopped in front of a door, and Stone pushed it open.

The contents of the room gave Shadow whiplash. It was… certainly colorful?

The walls were painted a pastel pink, and a frilly pink curtain covered the window. Plushies of a white cat in a variety pink dresses were littered across the room and even posters of said cat. There were two beds in the room but one was visibly occupied, telling by the pastel pink blankets and all the colorful plushies.

Sitting on the bed, was a figure that looked like a robotic copy of Sonic.

It probably was too.

Said robot was delicately brushing through a doll's blonde hair with utmost gentleness. The sight made Shadow’s heart ache, the reason unknown to him

The robot finally noticed him, beeping curiously at Stone. Stone stepped forward into the room, in between the two hedgehogs. “This is... Metal Sonic,” he said, gesturing to the robot, who was still examining Shadow. Metal Sonic beeped again, as if Shadow could even understand what they were trying to say.

Shadow opened his mouth to question the robot but Stone interrupted. “The doctor created him in the blue idiot’s image, yes I know. But I think of Metal as their own person, y’know? They’re not as annoying and…” Stone turned to look at Metal, who was back to brushing their dolls hair. “I don’t think Sonic is into the color pink or Hello Kitty and dolls…”

Shadow just nodded. He glanced back at Stone, who was watching Metal Sonic with an almost fond expression, as if he were observing a child playing, specifically a child that was his. It felt odd to see Stone speak so… affectionately about Metal Sonic despite the fact they were only a robot.

Someone could say it was odd that Maria was affectionate towards an alien, so Shadow couldn’t really be one to judge. How weird was a robot when compared to an alien? Not that weird because at-least it's man-made!

Stone sighed before clapping his hands together and turning back to Shadow. “Well! Clean yourself up! I’m gonna go set the table!” He said quickly before walking back down the hall.

Shadow watched him leave before sharing an awkward look with Metal Sonic, who beeped at him.

Shadow glared at them. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

“Kids! Time for dinner!”

Shadow hadn’t even been there for a day and he was already being dragged into their game of house. How tragic for him.

Shadow hopped off the bed and glanced at Metal Sonic, who had just set their doll down with a small, delicate motion before hopping off their bed. The robot beeped cheerfully before they hurried toward the door.

Now why would a robot with no mouth or digestive system be excited for dinner? Also why the hell was a robot excited?

Shadow couldn’t tell if Metal was strangely good at acting out their emotions or they could actually feel… Shadow shrugged it off as being too strange to be logical before he followed after.

On the table were three plates. But on two plates there was real edible food.

On the third… There were a bunch of plastic toys. Shadow momentarily prayed that it wasn't for him.

Thankfully, but oddly, Metal sat down at the third seat and excitedly —if it could even be called that—picked up their utensils.

Shadow sat down across from Metal, watching with mild horror as the robot mimicked the act of eating with perfect precision. They picked up a tiny plastic fork and “stabbed” at a plastic steak, lifting it to where their mouth should be and pressing it against the metal before placing it back down with a content beep.

Stone, completely unfazed—probably because he was the one supplying Metal with fake food—took a bite of his actual food and hummed in satisfaction. “Hope you like it, Shadow. I don’t know what you eat, but I figured salmon and rice was a safe bet.”

Shadow nodded absentmindedly before deciding being weirded out wasn’t worth it when he was so hungry.

After dinner, Shadow trudged back to the room, exhausted but oddly content. He had to admit—despite the weirdness of it all, it was better than being stranded in the desert.

When he stepped inside, he expected Metal Sonic to be back on their bed, fussing over their dolls or reorganizing their collection of Hello Kitty plushies. Instead, the robot had somehow managed to construct a fairly elaborate pillow fort in the middle of the room. Pink and white blankets were draped over stacked pillows and chairs, forming a surprisingly sturdy fort. Inside, tiny LED lights—that seemingly appeared out of nowhere because Metal Sonic’s room had no LED’s earlier—twinkled like stars.

Metal beeped at Shadow excitedly, patting the space beside them.

Shadow stared at them, unamused and also mortified. The last time he got in a blanket fort with someone, she ended up dead minutes later. Shadow wondered if being in a blanket fort with someone meant one of you would die within the next ten minutes. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Metal beeped again, this time more insistently.

Shadow sighed, rubbing his temples. He had better things to do… like sleeping… or thinking of Sonic and how much he hoped the hedgehog was alive. But Metal’s constant angry beeping made them hard to ignore. The expression their eyes displayed made them look angry. Grumbling under his breath, Shadow lowered himself into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows.

“Happy now?” he muttered.

Metal Sonic beeped in triumph, clapping their hands together excitedly, settling down beside him. Metal shifted around in the fort as if getting comfortable— but how the hell would a robot get comfortable ? Shadow watched them for a moment before letting out a sigh and leaning back against a pillow. At the very least, this wasn’t the worst way to end a bizarre day.

His fingers idly brushed against the fabric of one of the pillows, adjusting it to better support his head when something crinkled underneath. Shadow furrowed his brows and reached into the pillowcase, pulling out a small, slightly crumpled photograph.

Shadow was extremely confused as to why Metal would keep a photo of a hammer wielding pink hedgehog in a pillowcase.

Shadow stared at the photo, taking in the rushed angle and the way Amy was caught mid-smile, seemingly unaware that the picture had even been taken. His gaze flickered toward Metal Sonic, who was now very still, looking Shadow dead in the eyes looking more serious than Shadow had seen them than ever.

Metal Sonic let out a single, sharp beep—one that Shadow somehow instinctively recognized as panic. The robot shot forward in an attempt to snatch the photo from his hands, but Shadow pulled it back just in time.

Metal beeped frantically, their eyes flashing with an intensity that almost made Shadow feel bad. Almost .

"You’re a little weird, y’know that?" Shadow mused, tilting the photo in his hand as he examined the photo of Earth’s third alien hedgehog. Metal let out a series of offended beeps, and Shadow scoffed. "You pretend to eat plastic food and have a crush on a girl who beat you up the first time you met, Metal. You can't get weirder than that."

Metal Sonic beeped offendedly before turning away sharply, crossing their arms. It was such a human-like motion that Shadow had to remind himself that Metal was, in fact, a robot. 

After a beat, Shadow finally handed the photo back. Metal snatched it in an instant, before carefully tucking it back into the pillowcase and pressing the pillow down to ensure it was safe.

Shadow leaned back, staring up at the tiny LED lights twinkling above them. “…I get it, though.”

Metal’s head turned slightly, their optics flickering in curiosity.

Shadow exhaled slowly. "Liking someone who doesn’t really notice you the way you want them to, you only really see them in those moments where you’re against each other and—” Shadow cut off, realizing he was on the verge of admitting something that Metal was probably already able to guess.

Shadow let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Whatever. You wanna hear something embarrassing? I—” he hesitated, exhaling sharply, “—might have a thing for Sonic.”

Metal Sonic was silent for a moment.

Then they beeped.

And beeped.

And beeped again

And then their entire body trembled as they let out a series of rapid, delighted beeps— Oh god Metal Sonic was laughing at him… FOR HAVING A CRUSH ON SONIC…

Shadow groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You have got to be kidding me…” Metal Sonic's beeping continued, a high-pitched sequence that sounded almost gleeful. They clutched their sides, their body shaking in that unmistakable way someone does when they’re trying to suppress laughter but failing miserably.

Shadow, still hiding his face in his hands, peeked through his fingers and glared at the metal hedgehog. “Oh, shut up!” he hissed before whacking them, shutting them up instantly.

They quickly went back to beeping—or laughing?

Shadow flopped back against the pillows, glaring at the ceiling of their fort. “Unbelievable. I’m trapped in a room with a robot that thinks my love life is hilarious…”

Metal beeped in agreement.

Shadow rolled onto his side, aggressively yanking a blanket over his head. "Go to sleep, Metal."

A long pause.

Then, a soft beep—quieter this time, almost content.

Then Metal got up, and Shadow was confused as to why they were leaving till they walked up to their bed, sat down, and plugged themselves into a charger before lying down with no blanket covering them despite the ridiculous amounts of pink blankets at their disposal.

Shadow was really starting to regret not running out the door when he had the chance.

Then, a thought hit him—one so disturbing he almost threw himself out the window.

With a sudden, sharp turn of his head, Shadow glanced back at Metal, still plugged into their charger. "Hey," he whispered, but Metals eyes lit up in an instant, "Do you think Sonic and Amy have ever met?"

Metal let out a single, curious beep, then another beep accompanied by a nod.

“What if…” Shadow broke off, hesitant to share the horrifying idea with Metal Sonic, but alas… he had to. “...What if they get together?”

Metal Sonic began to shake violently, so much that Shadow feared they might explode. But Metal let out a beep so loud Shadow had to cover his ears. Shadow viewed this as Metal’s way of screaming.

As soon as Metal was done, Shadow was quick to pat them on the back. “I know… we’ve gotta visit them soon… to make sure they don’t end up falling for each-other”

With that, Metal Sonic unplugged themselves and pulled a whiteboard out the closet and created an overly detailed plan on how to prevent Sonamy.

Shadow just nodded along, with no idea of what the hell they were preventing.

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

What up y'all! I return bearing what was originally gonna be survival!shipping fluff (I sketch the face first and drew young Garmadon instead of his full Oni version) but morphed into this because my ass was listening to Ethel Cain and Flower Face while drawing. Honestly I took it and wound up playing rendering/color and quite frankly I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out!

Translations: Vertical word- Destruction, bottom text- "You are no man, men don't have claws they can't cut."

Garmadon is my favorite character to use for these more painterly metaphorical art studies because:

A) He's my babygirl and favorite character, this is very well established lol

B) He's a fundamentally tragic character. He's doomed by the narrative in every sense of the word, he was a child when he was bit and after that he was left to deal with the fact that there was this evil snake in his head and his father as well as his brother (seemingly the only people he interacted with as a child) were now somewhat afraid of him. By his young adulthood his relationship with his family begins to strain due to their belief he's "turning evil" especially when going on the quest for tea leaves in Spinjitzu Brothers which shows he actually feels rather upset/angry that his brother and father believe he's turning evil simply because he experiences negative emotions (you know like a normal person) but then after he see's himself in the mirror in book three he goes on a downward spiral believing he's doomed to turn evil and be alone. We don't really know what happens after book four since the fifth and final book never came out but it's easy to assume that the tea didn't work and Garmadon is left all the worse for it coming out of the trip with his mental health in the gutter. We don't know to much about what happens in-between then and when he goes to Chen's Island but we do know that he doesn't seem to have gotten better since in Shatterspin he's still pretty self sacrificing and other people have begun to notice his less than stellar mental state.

Then we know what happens after the war, his mind is consumed and he is left to be less than himself. Even then when he comes back from the underworld we see that he still cares about his son, he kills the Great Devourer, he still wants to be a person. At the end of season two he gets what he wants, he cured, and for the time that he is fully himself for the first time in years he begins to apologize and try to make up for all that he did (even if it lowkey wasn't 100% his fault seeing he was being controlled by an evil snake), but even that didn't last. He dies, or moreover sacrifices himself to save Ninjago from Chen's Anacondrai army, but he dies a good person, he gets a memorial and family that mourns the truest version of himself. And then he was brought back again, ripped from the afterlife but only as half of himself, only the evil side, the side he spent thousands of years repressing until he couldn't anymore and regretted the second he was himself again. Despite that despite the fact it is supposedly only his evil side left he is still trying to be good, with the Garmadon comics showing his desire for redemption and his care for his son even in what he had thought to be his dying moments.

I think this is what makes one of the beginning lines from the Garmadon comics all the more tragic "Who knows what life he may have lived had he not been corrupted by the Great Devourer and cast into the underworld." He might have gotten to live a different life, he may have gotten to be happy and not fear what he might become, he might not have had to die multiple times over, but we'll never know because that's not what happened instead his fate was twisted by something completely and utterly out of his control.

So yeah he's a little fucked up and that's why he's my favorite! Hope y'all enjoyed my long winded rant, I have so many opinions on this man and don't even get me started on how much I hate crystalized for how it fucked up his development from the comics, but uhhh I think that's it!

If you want to you can check out my fic What Doesn't Kill You it's mostly me putting him in a jar and putting him under a microscope lol, other than that I hope yall have a great day/night and I'll see you when I appear from the mist again! PEACE OUT!

[koremakaria]

Nan Xu Yue / Tian Ming Shu Character Analysis and Appreciation Post

OMG! The characters are so complex and Wang Duo did such an amazing job bringing them to life. I adore him! I really do!

I've only seen him in Yin Yang Master: Dream of Eternity but he also killed that role like bro, this guy is so good at exuding Sad Boi Energy. Nothing can make me hate you! Nothing!

So he and MXL/Pearl go way back. They were created by the Supreme God as Immortal Weapons. An Eternity with no emotion, no attachment, the only purpose was to serve their Master. These two were different from the very start. Tian Ming was like 'cool, I can deal with being an emotionless artifact' while Pearl was like 'ummm, excuse me, but do you know what love is?' And if you were curious, Tian Ming was like 'no, but like why? Is it something important or something?' Yeah. Haha. Clueless didn't even begin to cover this.

Because he is FATE, he viewed life from a deterministic pov. Like there is no free will because the book of fate determines the outcome so even if you rebel, that very act of rebellion was part of your fate. Basically, this dude is the very definition of 'it is what it is' and so we have to view his decisions from this perspective. I love that xianxia dramas are always asking about love. Like what is love? What does it mean to be in love? And the most important question is always 'Is love worth the pain that comes with it?'

As Nan Xu Yue, he thought that to love meant that he had to eliminate threats to MXL's life including killing the one that she loves. After all, it's all for her own good. Bro was really like 'I'm doing this for you! It's ALL for YOU!' The only problem was that he never asked MXL what she wanted. This love was the epitome of selfish love. It was possessive love. Which ultimately killed her and then he killed himself. In this incarnation, he knew that he loved MXL but didn't know how to properly address his feeling.

As Tian Ming, before the cycle of reincarnations, I don't think he knew that he loved Pearl. I don't think he even knew what love was. All he knew from his long existence was that he didn't want to lose his companion. The Supreme God wanted to destroy the human realm and so he altered this fate by imprisoning Zhaoming to avoid possession. Maybe he did so to prevent his own death or Maybe he did so because he knew Pearl wouldn't want the human realm to be gone. It didn't really matter why, this was his first major act of 'free will' or at least it's free will in the sense that he went against the wishes of his Master.

Another act of free will was when he took the punishment from Pearl when he knew it would kill her. But again, this was done without asking Pearl what she wanted. His purpose was keep her alive hoping that she'd return home with him one day and that everything would return to how they were. 'We can be one happy family again!' So again, selfish love.

Then when NXY regained his memory as Tian Ming, we get a different kind of awareness. I think he finally figured out what it meant to love. In a selfless way.

Instead of keeping secrets, Tian Ming learned to communicate. And most importantly, he learned to accept death and free will. Since the first incarnation, Tian Ming has been obsessed with keeping Pearl alive so that she'd be with him. Even if that meant she hated him. Even when she loved another man. Even when she was willing to die for another man. That didn't matter to Tian Ming as long as they get to live. She didn't have to love him, she just needed to stay alive. That all changed in the last arc when he finally let go of Pearl/MXL. He understood that Pearl/MXL had the right to make her own decisons. That not everything was up to him (FATE) to decide and that he, too, had free will. Ultimately, he exercised this free will by dying so that her vision would come true. [Me sobbing 😭]

This convo basically foreshadowed his own fate. He didn't understand why Pearl chose to love Zhaoming knowing that she will die in her first incarnation. Then in his last incarnation, he finally got it. He really did. My Super Sad Boi.

Tian Ming and Nan Xu Yue are such interesting characters and I love them. They are deeply flawed and so so so human.

[skadee17]

The Wrath of Rome

pairing: Emperor Geta x F!OC x Lucius

PART2

summary: Adona, was once promised to Lucius, son of Lucilla. But when Lucius disappeared, presumed dead, Adona’s future was sealed. Forced into a marriage with Emperor Geta to secure her survival, she struggles to find meaning in a world where her own desires and dreams are crushed by Rome’s brutal power. With no family left but Lucilla and Acacius, Adona must navigate the ruthless politics of the empire while facing her uncertain future.

word count: around 3500

warnings/notes: love hate relationship trope, slow burn, angst,mention of child abandonment, mention of death, loss, forced marriage...

The Gardens of Villa Kanatius

The sun bathed the gardens of Villa Kanatius in a golden glow, illuminating the explosion of colors across the vast estate. Roses, violets, and delicate lilies swayed under a warm breeze, their fragrances mingling with the scent of orange blossoms. The clear water of the marble basin shimmered as koi fish glided beneath the surface, their golden scales flickering like scattered sunlight.

Adona knelt beside the basin, dipping her fingers into the water. She traced slow, delicate circles, watching the ripples distort her reflection. The wind, gentle yet warm, tousled her long, flowing hair, making her appear almost divine—a vision sculpted by the gods themselves. In this moment, there were no imperial duties, no weight of expectations. Only silence. Only peace.

But peace never lasted long.

A presence behind her disturbed the quiet harmony of the garden. She didn’t turn immediately; she already knew who it was. She straightened, her damp fingers gliding along the fabric of her tunic as she lifted her gaze.

Her father stood before her.

Senator Kanatius was a man of imposing stature, his once-proud features now weathered by war and loss. His dark tunic, embroidered with golden laurels, reflected his rank, but his expression bore the weight of something far heavier—grief. A grief that had never left him.

Adona knew why.

She had been only six when she lost her mother. The memories were faint, blurred by time, but one thing remained—whenever she looked at her reflection, she saw her. The same high cheekbones, the same deep, knowing eyes. A mirror of the woman her father had loved and lost. And when he looked at her, she could see it—the way his gaze faltered, the way his throat tightened. She was a wound that had never healed, a shadow of what was gone forever.

But she had never been alone.

Lucilla, daughter of Marcus Aurelius, had taken her in, had raised her as her own. Where her father had been absent, drowning himself in war and duty, Lucilla had been her guide, her comfort. Adona had grown beneath her wisdom, learning the ways of Rome not as a mere noblewoman, but as someone destined to shape its future. And then there was him.

General Marcus Acacius.

Her father’s closest friend. He had always been there, watching over her like a second father. There had been warmth in his presence, a quiet strength, a silent promise that no harm would ever come to her as long as he lived.

And yet, despite the love of Lucilla, despite the protection of Acacius, there had always been that void—the absence of the man who had given her life but had never known how to be a father.

Now, as he stood before her, his expression unreadable, she wondered what had finally brought him back.

"Adona," his voice was low, firm, but not unkind. "We need to talk."

The scent of jasmine drifted on the wind.

Something was about to change.

Adona did not need to ask. She already knew.

Her father had not come for her.

He never came for her.

The wind rose slightly, lifting the folds of her dazzling white gown as she fixed her gaze on her father, standing before her, his shoulders rigid, his eyes evasive. The announcement he was about to make would not surprise her.

"A new battle is coming," he declared at last, his grave voice breaking the silence of the garden. "Rome needs me."

Rome.

It was always Rome. Never her.

Adona inclined her head slightly, her expression impassive, even as her heart tightened. He was leaving again. Fleeing once more.

"I see," she replied simply.

Her father frowned slightly. Perhaps he had expected a reaction, a plea. But Adona was no longer a child. She no longer harboured illusions.

He sighed, and for the first time, he allowed himself to truly look at her. To take in the face that reminded him so much of what he had lost.

"You look so much like your mother," he murmured.

Adona lowered her gaze to the water in the basin, watching her own reflection ripple beneath the caress of the wind.

"You never spoke to me about her," she said after a moment.

Silence fell. Then, to her great surprise, her father sat down on the marble bench beside her. His gaze wandered over the garden, but she sensed that he was no longer here, in the present. He was elsewhere, lost in a past that no longer belonged to him.

"I met her when I was still a young officer," he began softly. "She was the daughter of a noble, but she was nothing like a woman of the court. She had a free spirit, a strength that captivated everyone who crossed her path. And I… I was a soldier, already loyal to Rome before I was ever loyal to her."

He let out a joyless laugh.

"But she loved me despite it all. She saw in me what I refused to see in myself. She often told me I was too cold, too rigid… and yet, with her, I was a different man."

He paused, and Adona heard the slight tremor in his voice as he continued:

"We had a family, a life. You, me..."

Adona felt her chest tighten at those words.

Her brother.

A child barely born. An innocent, fragile being who had known only a few days of life before being taken, along with their mother, in the turmoil of a bloodstained night.

"I never managed to move past their death," her father admitted in a whisper. "I never knew how… to go on."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Adona closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the familiar pain to wash over her.

Once, she had had everything. A father, a mother, a baby brother.

And the next day, there was nothing left but emptiness.

Loneliness had grown with her, had rooted itself in her soul like a dark ivy she could never tear away.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked at her father.

He was there, and yet… he had never truly been.

She wished she could tell him that he was not alone, that she too had carried this loss, that she had wished for him to stay, to see her, to love her as more than just a painful memory.

But she knew those words would change nothing.

So she remained silent, and instead, she dipped her fingers once more into the water of the basin, watching the ripples dance across the surface, as if she could glimpse another life within them.

A life where they were still a family.

Her father looked at her for a long time. A gaze she could not decipher, a mixture of bitterness, regret… and perhaps, a tenderness too long repressed.

Then, he spoke again, his voice lower, almost gentle:

"You think I abandoned you, Adona. And I cannot blame you for that." He paused before adding, "But know that, even from afar, I have always protected you. I made sure nothing happened to you, that you did not lose your way."

Adona did not reply. How could she believe that? He had fled, throwing himself into every battle, every war, finding refuge in the clash of combat rather than in the eyes of his own daughter.

"You are more of age now," he continued, his tone hardening slightly. "You should have been married long ago."

A cold shiver ran down Adona’s spine. She knew where this conversation was leading.

"For years, I have received proposals," her father went on. "Powerful senators, generals, men of influence in Rome. They all want you."

She lowered her gaze. She knew.

Even without appearing in public often, her reputation had spread throughout the city. The Jewel of Rome. The New Venus.

A title that haunted her more than it honoured her.

She despised the crowds, the palace, the burning stares that lingered too long when she had no choice but to attend imperial festivities. But she had no power over her fate. She knew it, and her father knew it too.

Her destiny should have been different.

"You were meant to marry Lucius," her father murmured.

She lifted her head.

Lucius.

The son of Lucilla.

They had been promised to one another since childhood, bound by the deep friendship and affection Lucilla had held for Adona. A future that could have been gentle, perhaps even happy… But fate had decided otherwise.

When Maximus and Commodus had fallen, Rome had entered a period of turmoil, and Lucius, still a child, had vanished without a trace. Declared lost. Likely dead.

Since then, two new emperors had seized power: the twins, Caracalla and Geta.

A shadow fell over Adona’s heart.

Those two men had plunged Rome into chaos. Cruel, tyrannical, capricious. They ruled with an iron fist, crushing all opposition beneath their sadism and thirst for blood.

And she knew.

She knew she had not escaped their notice.

It had been at a feast in honour of the new emperors. A night where she had no choice but to appear, out of respect for the hierarchy. She had stood tall, dignified, trying to ignore the weight of the gazes upon her.

But one gaze in particular had never left her.

Geta’s.

His attention had suffocated her, his predatory smile had sent a shiver down her spine.

Since then, she knew it was only a matter of time.

And her father knew it too.

He looked at her for a moment, then turned his eyes away, as he always did.

"I leave tomorrow," he finally announced, his tone graver than ever.

Adona clenched her fists.

He was leaving… again.

And this time, she knew he would not return before her fate was sealed forever.

Her father turned on his heels, ready to leave. His dark cloak billowed in the warm garden breeze, but before he vanished, he stopped.

Without turning back, he spoke, his voice heavy with regret:

"If I do not return from this war… your marriage to Emperor Geta will be arranged."

Adona’s blood turned to ice.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"If I return…" He paused, a silence that struck like a dagger. "I will try to negotiate. I have already pleaded your case before the emperors, but…"

At last, he turned to face her. His gaze, usually so stern, was clouded with crushing sorrow.

"The decision has been out of my hands for a long time, Adona."

The words hit her like a blow.

She stiffened, her eyes widening. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, like a caged beast searching for an escape.

She understood.

It didn’t matter what she did, what she said. It didn’t matter that she was the daughter of a senator, that she was Adona Kanatius . She was nothing more than an object to be offered, a treasure to be sold to the highest bidder.

Her father could do nothing.

And she… she was nothing more than a pawn on Rome’s chessboard.

Rage and despair exploded within her.

Suddenly, she rose to her feet, her eyes glistening with tears, her breath erratic.

"No…" she murmured at first, her voice nearly broken. Then, louder: "No! You cannot do this to me!"

Her father froze, his fists clenched.

"You are my father! Help me!" Her voice trembled, pleading, imploring. "Do not leave me! If you care for me at all, you must return!"

Her father did not answer.

He knew it was too late.

She took a step back, her eyes burning. "You told me you'd fight for me, that nothing would happen to me. You know what? It was all lies!"

She paused, as if every word she said choked her. "You’re nothing but a coward abandoning his own daughter. A man without honor."

She shook her head, disgusted. "Leave me, I have nothing left to say to you."

He didn’t respond, frozen in his silence, crushed by her words. He knew that even if he returned, he could change nothing. Geta had already marked him with his curse, and refusing the emperor was to choose death.

His heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he looked at his daughter—beautiful and strong, now reduced to helplessness.

And so, he did what he had not done in years.

He stepped forward and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

A final farewell.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Adona felt her legs give way beneath her.

She collapsed onto the stone ground, breathless, her hands trembling.

Then, she screamed.

A cry that tore through the night, a cry of pain, rage, despair. A cry she had held back for far too long.

Her father, already far down the path leading to the villa’s gates, stopped.

He closed his eyes, letting his daughter’s scream haunt him.

Then, he lifted his head toward the starry sky.

Forgive me.

Wherever his wife was, he prayed she would forgive him for what he had made their daughter endure.

Then, without another word, he disappeared into the shadows

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

A few months later... A few months had passed since her father’s departure, and each day seemed heavier than the last. Rome, once a brilliant city, now felt like a foreign place, a world that no longer belonged to her.

Adona stood before the mirror, her eyes lost in their reflection, as though she were searching for a truth she could not grasp. Her long hair, which she had not had the courage to cut, cascaded in silky waves around her face. Lucilla, loyal and silent, stood behind her, brushing through Adona's hair in a calm and methodical manner, as though the gestures of daily life could offer some comfort in this crumbling world.

Lucilla... She was her mother in spirit, the person who had supported and guided her through the darkest times. But today, there was a palpable tension between them, a silent pain that words could no longer erase.

Lucilla spoke again, her tone light, as though trying to lighten the weight in the air between them. "You know, I saw the Emperors this morning."

Adona turned her head slowly, her eyes shadowed with worry and fatigue. "And?" Her voice betrayed a tension she could no longer hide.

Lucilla smiled gently, a glint of humour in her eyes, but it did not conceal the gravity of the situation. "Caracalla, as usual, made a fuss over nothing. But Geta... he seemed more thoughtful, calmer, almost as though he were contemplating something more important." She paused for a moment before continuing, choosing her words carefully. "Perhaps he’s starting to realise what awaits him. What awaits... both of you."

Adona felt her heart tighten at the mention of Geta. The memory of his cold, calculating eyes still haunted her. She was no naive young woman. She knew exactly what that meant. "I am just a commodity to him, Lucilla. A price to pay for power. Whatever he does or says, he will never be anything but a tyrant to me."

Lucilla, with infinite tenderness, stroked Adona's hair. "I know. I know how you feel. But there are things we cannot change, Adona. You’ve grown up, you’re a woman now, and you’re capable of seeing the truth. And it’s that truth that is hard to accept."

Adona lowered her eyes, fighting against the tears. "Do you really think that one day I could love him? That I could find something in me for him?"

The question was broken, like a short breath, but it was sincere. Adona knew it wasn’t an easy question to ask, but she needed to understand. If she had to share her life with Geta, how could she give herself to him, even in thought?

Lucilla moved closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked her in the eyes, with a wisdom earned through suffering and past battles. "You’re asking me if you’ll ever love him... The truth, Adona, is that I don’t know. Love isn’t something we choose, not like freedom or rebellion. Sometimes it settles in without us seeing it coming. But I know one thing: love isn’t always the answer. Sometimes, what remains is respect. Dignity. And perhaps, over time, balance."

Adona turned her gaze to Lucilla, trying to understand. "Balance..." but she was more speaking to herself than Lucilla.

"Yes," replied Lucilla, her tone calm but resigned. "Perhaps, with time, you’ll learn to understand each other, to find some form of peace. It’s not a fairy tale. I’m not naive. But you have power over your own heart, my dear. That power is the ability to choose how to react to what’s imposed on you."

Adona suddenly stood up, frustrated. "But how am I supposed to react to this, Lucilla? How can I accept what my father has made of me, what fate has made of my life?"

Lucilla looked at her, a slight sad smile brushing her lips. "By never forgetting who you are, Adona. The woman you choose to be. No matter what the world expects of you, you can always choose your dignity."

Adona forced a smile, though her heart was heavy. She knew what she would have to do. Life did not bend to her dreams. But perhaps, with time, she would learn to walk this path without breaking completely.

Adona turned her eyes away from the mirror and lost herself in the void. The name Lucius, like a whisper from the past, resurfaced. That name she had never dared to speak aloud. That boy from long ago, the child promised to her heart, her childhood friend, her fiancé… before everything fell apart.

"Lucius..." she murmured, her voice fragile, almost inaudible.

Lucilla paused for a moment, her hands suspended in mid-air. She knew this pain, this nostalgia that never seemed to want to leave. "You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?"

Adona nodded slowly, her gaze lost in the past. "Yes, I think of him. He should have been here. He was supposed to be here." An imperceptible tremor passed through her voice. "If he had been alive… if things had been different, do you think my life would have been easier?"

Lucilla let out a heavy sigh filled with regret. "Maybe, my dear. Maybe your future would have taken another shape, a different shape. But Lucius... he’s gone, and with him, a part of you. You had to grow up without him, and perhaps that’s what made you the woman you are today."

Adona suddenly stood up, stepping away from the shadow of the mirror. "I can’t forget. I can’t believe he’s really gone. It’s like… like an emptiness I can’t fill." Her hands trembled as she placed them on her hips, searching for a stability she could no longer find.

Lucilla looked at her with infinite tenderness, but also a certain pain in her eyes. "I know, my dear. I know you can’t forget. And perhaps you shouldn’t. But you must accept that he’s not coming back. You must accept that the dreams you shared… have become memories. Nothing more."

Adona lowered her head, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "And what if… what if he was still alive, Lucilla? What if he survived and…"

Lucilla gently took Adona’s hands, her fingers firm yet full of softness. "You’ve always believed, deep down, that he was still out there. That fate simply took a different turn for him. But you know as well as I do that some dreams cannot survive reality. And it’s time to accept that, even if he were still alive, he couldn’t save you from what you must face."

Adona sighed deeply, Lucilla’s words echoing in her mind. The emptiness she had carried with her since Lucius’s loss would never disappear, but perhaps she needed to start learning how to live with that absence. Perhaps, in the end, she didn’t need him to carry on. Maybe she was stronger than she believed.

"Do you think I could love again?" Adona asked, her eyes searching for a glimmer of hope in Lucilla’s.

Lucilla looked at her for a long moment before answering, her gaze filled with a quiet wisdom. "Love... Love often comes where we least expect it. And it can be very different from what we imagined. But it won’t abandon you, Adona. You are not alone. No matter what happens, you will never be alone."

She paused, her eyes bright with tears she was holding back with all her strength. "I wish I knew what my mother would have thought of all this. What... she would have said, if she had been here."

Lucilla, touched by these words, placed a gentle hand on Adona’s shoulder, a silent support. "She would have wanted to see you strong, my dear. She would have pushed you to fight, not to let the darkness swallow you. She believed in you, just as I believe in you." Adona lowered her head for a moment, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her dress, as if to remind herself that she was still here, still capable of making a decision for herself. She knew she could never erase the pain of losing her mother, but maybe, just maybe, she could find a balance between her anger and her future.

[silver-heroes-rp]

The Remnant of a Fallen Hero

(SHARD'S STORY)

[EMERGENCY: Power Saving Mode Active]

[Awaiting Rescue]

How long has he been laying here?

Memory data indicates that this unit has been in this exact location for around two million hours. Using emergency power saving mode, in order to keep from shutting down completely. He refuses to shut down, not until his objectives are complete.

Logic processors indicate no living being can survive as long as he has. The true Sonic would have died of old age a long, long time ago. It's what his memories tell him of being alive. And yet, he is still here. He is still rusting. Scattered parts of his final battle, his last cry to the world that he was alive, he was the true Sonic, that this world was his to own, lay torn apart as nothing more than scrap metal, now.

Conclusion? He is NOT the true Sonic.

He's had thousands upon thousands of hours to accept that fact. The memories he's had programmed into his head are not his. The true Sonic probably lived a full, happy life with the friends that don't belong to Metal. Metal has been down here, at the bottom of the ocean, for a majority of his own "life."

Conclusion? His creator abandoned him.

Knowing how much the doctor likes his control, when Metal rebelled to rule the empire of his own volition, he was deemed defective and never recovered. Eggman probably built a new Sonic Robot, and left him here, like his brethren Silver Sonic and Mecha Sonic before him. A newer, better robot took his place. One more obedient than him.

That feeling returns. The ones his system have been grappling with for a long time. Ever since Eggman sent him on a mission to retrieve a power gem called the "Energy Core Diamond", and then subsequently ordered him to shatter it into pieces when the energy from it caused his robots to rebel, he's been feeling strange. He was not built to feel anything. And yet, he's been feeling strange.

Soon, he learned to identify those feelings. Anger. Jealousy. Envy. They swirled through his circuits, mixed with his memories and made him FEEL for the first time. Only now, at the bottom of the ocean, does he know why. A piece of the Diamond was lodged in his engine after he shattered it, and only now that he's been rusted nearly hollow has it finally dislodged itself.

It's probably the only reason why he's had power for this long. All that anger and envy and rage have been coming and going ever since. He gets angry thinking about how he was left down here. But a more empty feeling, that's still a new feeling in itself, has begun to fill a void where that negativity has been since he became self aware.

The idea that logically, no one is coming to save him, and that he's going to be stuck down here forever, makes this sensation in his core that he can only describe as "unpleasant." The constant sound of water bubbling around his rusting parts, his hand stuck in an outstretched position, reaching for a surface to the ocean he'll never see, while sand and sediment slowly bury him alive down here. This is where it ends for him. But he refuses to let himself shut down. He's too stubborn to just give up here.

These thoughts have been playing on loop for decades, according to what functions in his internal clock. It's all he's been able to think about, after being dumped in the ocean by Omega of Team Dark as a means of disposing of him. He's been sending out rescue pings for Eggman ever since he landed on the bottom of the ocean floor. All of them have gone unanswered.

Metal sends out another useless rescue ping.

Suddenly, a ping bounces back in response. For the first time in two hundred years, someone is responding to his cry for help. Metal sends out another ping, looking for the strange signal to respond back to him again, to make sure it wasn't just some dream error.

The ping responds. Metal calls to it, rapidly, repeatedly, demanding a rescue from whatever is pinging back to him. He wants out of this place, he doesn't want to be down here any more, he's practically begging the other presence with the number of rapid pings he's sending to the response signal.

And, after a few moments, something does come to his rescue. The battered bits of him are dragged from the ocean, along side the fragment of the Energy Core Diamond as he's pulled from the ocean with all the sand and debris of himself in tow.

[Rescue Operation Complete. Shutting Down.....]

______________________________________

His systems activate some time later, in a sort of digital white space. He's conscious, but he can't feel his body.

He's not alone in here.

Across from him in the vast, digital expanse, a small girl in a white dress is staring at him. Metal can only stare at the strange being he's never seen before, and despite the state his systems are in, he should be able to pick up on organic life signs.

This little girl does not emit any.

"So, you are awake?" She asks him.

Metal tilts his head at the strange little girl, before letting out a few affirmative beeps.

"Response confirmed. Relaying current information," the girl nods, before a giant screen opens up. "You have been in power saving mode for approximately two hundred thirty years. An admirable feat, considering the state of disrepair your body is currently in upon retrieval."

Metal gives the little girl some annoyed beeps. He hates that this regression of his body has taken away his ability to speak freely.

"If you request it, I can add the proper parameters that will allow you to vocalize," the girl suddenly points out, as if reading his mind. "Due to the state of your body, we are going to have to rebuild you nearly from scratch."

"F...." the sound slowly leaves Metal's systems in response as the programming allowing him to speak is slowly uploaded into his processors. "...from.... scratch?"

It's not the same deep, gravelly voice he'd forced himself to speak with using a combination of system sounds, but it's a voice all the same. Robotic echoing by nature, but a speaking voice none the less, and much easier to use than his first attempt.

"Yes. Much of the material used in your previous body is currently being melted down and reforged into a nanite based casing that will make up your new body. It's a malleable and durable substance that's much more adaptable to surrounding environments as well. In addition, the gem fragment that was dug up alongside your body will be a more than sufficient power source, negating the need to build you are power core from scratch."

"Malleable and adaptable..." Metal echoes.

"You can make your new body look however you want once the nanite casing is completed, yes. This new material also has auto repairing functions, as it was designed to mimic organic cells that can multiply when units are destroyed. Your power core will have full control over everyone with a one hundred percent guaranteed success rate."

Metal looks himself over once he begins to "visualize" the body he would want for himself in light of this new adaptability.

"I'm sure you will be quite pleased with the possibilities." The girl continues. "The organic Sonic the Hedgehog is no longer an obstacle in the way of achieving-"

"I am not Sonic."

The words leave before Metal can process them.

"...pardon?" The girl tilts her head.

"I am not Sonic," repeats Metal. "That is a logical impossibility. The True Sonic would have been long dead before this date. I remember the day of Sonic's birth. I remember Sonic growing up, as it is in my bio data to mimic Sonic based on pre-programmed memories. I have not changed since I was thrown away, ergo, I am NOT Sonic."

"Understood. What would you like to be designated as?"

A pause.

Glancing around the white space, and toward where he feels his body should be, only the fragment of the shattered gem is a part of his current body. That gem is a part of him, his mind and his power source, all in one. It's a fragmented, destroyed thing, but the power contained in it is still immense and incredible.

"Shard."

He states it, thinking about the gem that makes up all he is now. At his core he is the gem shard. As such, he is Shard. That is what he is. And so, that is what he will be designated.

"Understood. To keep our list of robots repurposed organized, I will henceforth designate you as Shard, the Metal Sonic. Current model data as Mach 3.0. Designated "Shard" for short."

"Repurposed...?"

"Everything will be explained in due time. For now, focus on reconstructing yourself."

A moment of silence.

"....who are you?" Shard asks the girl.

"My name is Sage Robotnik," the girl replies. "I am a learning AI created by Dr. Ivo Robotnik as a means of understanding and maintaining old and modern technology alike. And though you are not the Metal Sonic model I called my brother, you are my brother, all the same."

".... brother...." Shard mutters.

______________________________________

"How is the recovery progressing?"

Shadow folds his arms over his chest, looking to the suspended robot in the workshop.

"Systems indicate a 98% recovery of memory files and consciousness," Sage replies through a monitor off to the side. "He is indeed the original model, the first Metal Sonic my father ever perfected. Too perfect, according to his files."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you model a machine after the most free spirited creature to ever walk on Mobius," Shadow grumbles. "Honestly, the fool wasn't expecting a robot filled with Sonic's ideology to rebel in any capacity?"

As he says this, he gives a leery-eyed look to the half built robot suspended in the room. It wasn't turned on, yet, but the gem was hooked up to the mainframe for Sage to recover the data with. "... you're sure that your brother will want to help? Because from what I can remember, the last time I saw this robot specifically, he was trying to create the exact conditions we're dealing with right now."

Even the quill arrangement slightly resembles that of Neo Metal Sonic, the way they stick out in a star-shaped pattern. Though, the change in coloring is different, with a black coat painted over with yellow stripes. Shadow was assuming that with the adaptable nanite shell, the Metal Sonic before him would assume a more organic form, and yet....

Shadow shakes his head. He knows this robot, he knows what it was made for, and he knows how the model that succeeded it refused to change. He shouldn't make any dangerous assumptions. Metal Sonic is a weapon, and a deadly one at that.

The nanite shell slowly assembles itself to the strange gem-like power core they had recovered with the broken bits of robot, taking to the new casing like magnetic putty. There's a whirr and a hum, as the robot begins to activate itself.

Red lights blink into view through the optical visor, before the robot levels a glare at Shadow.

"So YOU'RE still alive," Shard grumbles.

Shadow scoffs. "And your voice is even more grating than I remember it being."

The pair glare at each other. Shadow huffs, already annoyed. Of all the robots they had to find in a semi-working condition, it had to be the one modeled after one of his dead friends. The fact that Shard is giving him attitude isn't helping.

"My bio data scan figured this would be a possibility," Shard comments offhandedly. "Guess that makes you just as artificial as I am, huh?"

Shadow's ears droop, and he lets a low snarl out of his throat for that one. "I could just drop you back in the ocean we found you in if that's going to be your attitude."

Shard, wisely, shuts up after that comment.

Cue the return of awkward silence.

Shadow coughs into his fist. "Moving on. In case Sage hasn't filled you in, we rebuilt you to help in our efforts to keep what we have of the world alive. The Eggman Empire and GUN have fused into one super faction for this purpose, and as one of Eggman's robot's, it will be your job to-"

"Yeah, no."

Shadow's glare deepens. "Excuse me?"

"I said no, hot shot. What are you gonna do, destroy all your hard work?" Shard taunts.

"I'm sorely tempted," Shadow growls. "And then we'll repurpose those nanites and that energy core into a better robot for the job."

Shard snarls back, in a robotic equivalent of the sound. "You even touch me to do that, and I'll kill you myself."

"You're annoying me," Shadow huffs. "Sage, shut him down. Clearly this isn't worth the troub-"

*CRASH*

Shard breaks free of his restraints, leaping past Shadow and blasting a hole in the wall using his brand new arm cannon. Red eyes glance back at the alien hedgehog as cold wind and snow blow in through the open wall.

"I don't take orders anymore, especially from the likes of you." Shard declares coldly, before walking out into the darkness.

Shadow slams his fist into the wall nearest to him. "A waste of precious resources. That's all this was."

"I would not be so certain," Sage pipes up from the screen behind him. "My predictive algorithm suggests that Shard will return with 87.4% certainty, once he sees the state of the world. And then, he will be willing to listen to us."

"You'd better be right about that." Shadow sighs. "For now, let's focus on repairing the wall."

______________________________________

Shard blasts down the snowy terrain at top speed, just to get away from that stupid fake hedgehog. Who does he think he is, giving Shard orders and threatening to replace him on the spot!? Like hell he's going to let someone control him like that again! Who CARES what they need from him, he's not there to be their tool!

After flying around blind like a crazy bot, Shard has to adjust his new optical sensors for night vision mode to see anything outside. The entire surrounding area is coated in darkness. Temperature readings indicate a near absolute zero, and there's nothing but snow and cracked rock in the immediate area.

Parameters state that no organic life can survive in these conditions.

Shard looks left and right, taking in this information. Not a single organic being, not a bug, or a plant, or any annoying hedgehog would last long out here.

...

"FINALLY!" Shard exclaims. "It's everything I could ever want! No more organic life! No more orders! No more Sonic! I can run around this world as free as the wind all I want, and it's all mine to have! Finally, free to roam around the world for free as the most powerful being to survive in this place!"

With a whoop, Shard blasts down one of the snowy trails, excited to finally explore the world of his own volition. There's no orders forcing him to stay in one place! There's no Sonic to run around and hog all the sights for himself! Shard is finally, FINALLY free! No more consequences! And this place is all his to run around in as long as he wants!

Shard moves through the snow, looking for some cool sights and sounds he can finally enjoy for himself. No imposters, no masters, just him!

...just him, and all this snow.

Shard blinks, having been running around in circles for miles. Everything looks the same. Aside from the rushing wind, it's quiet. But that doesn't matter! He's free! It's everything he wanted! There's no more annoying hedgehogs to live his life for him and replace him.

Another few miles, and the same scenery is getting repetitive. Fissures in the earth, endless snowstorms, pure darkness. All the loops have been snowed over and buried. All the landmarks are frozen solid. All the noise of organic chatter he used to detest leaves a silent, barren world.

But, this is what he wanted, isn't it?

Isn't this what he fought so hard for?

His systems wind down and do a full assessment. His objectives are complete. Sonic is dead. Eggman is dead. There's no one left around to control him. He's the only thing that can exist in a world like this, outside.

So why does he feel so... unsatisfied?

There's no answer to his question, only the howling of the wind as the temperatures stay near absolute zero. All the running around is leaving him feeling.... sour, is the world he comes up with, because even though this place is everything he wanted before, there's just something so... wrong, with actually having it.

Perhaps that's why Sonic preached the idea of teamwork so religiously in their final fight. It wasn't power alone that made Sonic so carefree and respected. It was those around him. His friends? Friends Shard never had, even if he has memories of being their friends before Sonic stole them.

Did Sonic steal them...? Aren't those memories fake? How much of what he remembers is real?

He's so confused.

Lost.

...lonely.

Running around this place in silence without the pleasant scenery or anyone to share it with just feels wrong. But what can he even do about it? He was designed to be a violent killing machine, and now he wants to feel less lonely? These objectives are not compatible in the slightest.

Though, sick of the cold and dead air around him, Shard stumbles through the snow on foot, looking for something better to do then ruminate on these awful feeling realizations. Because with them, comes a new wave of guilt for everything he's done up to this point to get here, as well, and all the people he hurt along the way.

And he hates feeling these feelings.

______________________________________

Eventually, his area scan brings him back to a familiar location. One of the old bases he used to frequent back when he was still functional in the past. The shell of it looks redone, reinforced and built to block out the cold, but otherwise rather abandoned looking.

The door is in the same place he remembers it being, and when he enters the code to open it, it does so without issue. Guess his permissions never got removed after he was thrown away. Shard steps inside, kicking the snow off his boots and letting the door seal behind him.

Another one opens shortly after, and Shard steps in. The area is significantly warmer, though not as much as the base he ran away from. This area is clearly abandoned compared to the other shelters he flew by. He can still see some of the rusted remains of projects that were being worked on while he was still active.

Shard looks up and down the old hallways, still taking in the familiar sights when the sound of crashing can be heard somewhere further in. His radar picks up, detecting a life form further in the base, rummaging through the trash area.

Shard doesn't have anything better to do, so he heads toward the sound to satiate his rising curiosity. The rummaging sound gets closer, before Shard notices that some of the trash appears to be levitating around the source of the noise.

[Bio Data scan inconclusive. Phenomena does not match any Bio Data on record.]

Shard pokes the trash can to tip it over once he gets there, and a small creature yelps and rolls out of the steel bin. A bio scan reveals the creature to be a hoglet; with silver quills and gold eyes, as well as a startling amount of natural chaos energy, hence the levitating pieces of trash around the can.

Though it's a young, small thing. Shard could crush it's head under his boot and be done with it. The doc would probably order it as such if he were here. Shard defiantly leaves the tiny thing alone as a result, choosing to defy an order he'd never actually received for the sake of it. As such, he's really only standing there staring at the hoglet for the moment.

Golden eyes grow wide at the sight of the robot before the hoglet. "Woah.... you're one of those robots that scout around for stuff outside, right!?"

"I-" Shard tries to retort, but the hoglet is loud and mouthy, and it just keeps talking despite Shard's protests.

"That's gotta be so cool! You've been outside before! I've always wanted to know what it's like! But because of how cold it is I can't really leave the shelters. I bet it's so fun, playing in the snow!"

Shard's at a loss for words.

The hoglet is gripping his hand now, looking him in the eyes with awe and wonder. His sensory input doesn't know what to make of the situation, as he's never had an organic being look at him like this before. The awe and wonder in the hoglet's eyes directed at Shard, the KILLER ROBOT, is an entirely new sensation of it's own.

"Hey, can you tell me what it's like outside! I wanna see it myself one day, but I won't be able to for a long time. So you have to tell me what it's like! I want to know if it's like what I've been dreaming about!"

Looks like Shard isn't getting out of this discussion. Though, he finds he likes being looked at with admiration, and holding the small creature's hand, so he figures he'd humor the curiosity of the hoglet, recounting what he discovered while outside.

He doesn't know how long he spends with the small thing, who later tell Shard that his name is Silver. They end up sharing stories with each other for hours, and Shard decides he finds Silver to be the first tolerable organic being he's ever met.

Though their little chat session is interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Shard is instantly on guard, and he finds himself standing protectively in front of Silver when an unknown life form enters the abandoned base. Silver clings to his boot as a result.

In walks Shadow the Hedgehog, just as annoyed and brooding as always. Shard's eyes narrow and he prepares his weapon, in case the so called ultimate life form plans to make good on his threats to throw him away again. Shadow levels Shard with a familiar glare.

"You're coming with me, Metal Sonic. Stand down," Shadow huffs, a trio of red irises boring into his own eye lights. Shard gets into a defensive position in refusal.

"I said, you're coming with m-" Shadow reaches a hand out with a Doom Spear charged and ready to go, when he freezes in place, surrounded by a teal hue.

"Don't fight!" Silver shouts, running from behind Shard and putting his tiny hoglet body between the pair.

"Silver?" Shadow mouths in disbelief, seeing the small hoglet defend the robot by holding him in place. "This is where you ran off to? How did you-"

"I said no fighting!" Silver shouts again. "I'm not gonna let my new friend and Mr. Shadow fight each other!"

Shadow looks between Silver and Shard. "Your new friend, huh?" He sighs in resignation. "Well, as long as your new friend promises to be on his best behavior, I won't turn him into scrap metal."

"Likewise," Shard huffs in return.

"Then it's settled!" Silver huffs. "We're all gonna be friends now!"

Friends, huh?

Shard would like some of those, at least, ones that he makes himself instead of remembering someone else's...

______________________________________

Years pass.

Shard volunteers to help with the world restoration efforts, but he mostly does things on his own terms. In his work, he slowly grows an appreciation for the stubborn determination of organic life and their combined willpower to keep living. Shard earns a reputation as one of their best field agents as a result, getting the admiration he's found he always wanted from those in this current world in return for his efforts to help.

He and Silver stay the best of friends. Shadow might be the younger hedgehog's mentor, but it's Shard that actually teaches Silver the basics of how to BE a hedgehog. He teaches Silver the classics; how to spin dash and rail grind, and even though Silver's foot speed is lacking, his airspeed can even rival Shard's own. And so, they spend a lot of their free time racing around the shelters.

Shard cherishes Silver's friendship above anyone else's in this future world. Silver is nice to him, and listens to him, and they tell each other stories about what they're going to do when they find a way to save the world.

Silver wants to grow a garden the size of a forest once light returns to the world. The greenhouse is his favorite spot, and he wants to make a big one everyone can hang out in and relax once they can all go outside again.

Shard wants to travel the world. A world that's whole, and filled with the life he's found he's missing from the one he currently lives in. He wants to make up for his mistakes by spreading new life to the world once the snow melts and the rivers thaw. And then, he'll race around the world as the fastest being around, with races with his best friend all hours of the...

"Sonic?"

"Shard, are you okay?"

Shard snaps out of his sudden lapse in memory. He shakes his head, trying to clear away any image of a friend he never had superimposed on the one he knows he does.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good," Shard quickly shakes off. He reminds himself that he's not Sonic. He was never Sonic. He's Shard and he's completely different person from some old, dead hedgehog that's apparently still haunting him.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" He grins awkwardly in Silver's direction.

"General Shadow wants to talk to us about an important mission," Silver repeats himself. "Apparently, he's secured the Time Stones from Little Planet when it appeared for this year. We're going to go back in time and figure out what happened there, so we can fix what's going on here."

"Back in time?" Shard echoes. Back in time to when Sonic and his creator were alive? Back when he was still rusting at the bottom of the ocean for decades upon decades? Back to when all the people that hated him, and that he was made to kill, were still alive?

"Yeah. It's a last ditch effort, but if we never figure out what's going on, then things are going to stay like this forever. Shadow and Sage are saying that the world might not last until Little Planet appears again. This is our one shot."

"And General Shadow picked us to do this?" Shard asks skeptically.

"He says we're the two most capable mobians for the job." Silver nods.

Shard mimics a sigh. It's probably the nostalgia talking. But, if Shadow thinks they can do it...

"Well, better not keep the Boss waiting, then."

Guess it's time for the two of them to work together and Save the World, huh?

[aipurjopa]

How could this be?

[sulky-cabbage]

Eve: "Regarding the lyrics, this time its about portraying the conflicts and feelings of the characters in Jujutsu kaisen. This kind of feeling inside me, made me choose the characters one by one and thus write the lyrics. I don't dare to say where or who..."

Also Eve:

Alternative translations: 1 2 3 4

The lyrics hit different after ch 271. I kinda want this to be the op for s4 ngl

[grimmweepers]

life comes at you so fast

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[huffle-dork]

Long Live the King

Chapter 4: Repairs from the Rain

Read Fantasy Masks | Read Swapboys | Read the first FM adventure | Other Multiverse Adventures | Read on AO3

The Phantoms are used to setting up camps by now, so it's not too long before all the tents are up and everyone--and everything--is taking shelter inside.

Jackie has gathered all his friends and the Swaps in the biggest one--which, honestly, still isn't that big. But at least they all fit inside. "How is everyone?" he asks.

Marvin, Chase, and Jameson all give vague answers of being fine. Henrik doesn't say anything. He's still a bit untethered.

In the tent, Henny seems to be doing okay, even if his back is killing him. He feels a bit weak but… mostly fine. Dr. J is quiet, still rubbing his neck on and off. Jackieboy is restless, tapping his hands on his legs as he tries to warm himself up. He has Bro next to him, who’s still passed out and working through that fever. Everytime he moves a bit, Jackieboy stiffens slightly. How much longer was he gonna be passed out for?

Henny looks up and gazes at Jackie in concern, “Are you okay, Jackie?”

"Me?" Jackie looks surprised. "Yes, of course. I wasn't hurt much." He holds up his hand, now bandaged. "I'm mostly worried about using my swords again if needed."

"I've been trying to remember healing spells," Marvin says idly. "Maybe I could help if you really need to use your swords."

"Where were your healing spells when I twisted my knees?" Chase mutters.

"Halfway across the kingdom, that's where."

"That's fair."

Maybe you could use your healing spells to help him? Jameson indicates Bro.

Marvin bites his lip, thinking. "If this is the side effect of magic, magic cannot help with it. And since the spell he was under seems to mostly be because of magic from another world, I don't want to risk somehow mixing the power together and making it worse."

"Well why don't you use that healing on other people, anyway?" Jackie asks.

"Because the only spell I can remember to heal people requires me to feel the pain of the injury while I fix it, and I would prefer to avoid that unless it's an emergency." Marvin glances around.

"...Sorry. Really."

“It’s okay,” Jackieboy says with a smile. “Bro will be alright… he’s tough. He just needs to… rest it . I’m sure of it.”

Dr. J glances at Bro cautiously. Henny looks sad, “oh… if Alt was here he could help… he has been learning healing spells… and I… I cannot use such magics…”

Dr. J looks back at Jameson and tilts his head, “Um… Jameson. You said you had something you wanted to share, right?”

Jameson nods slowly. Do you all... remember when you saw me have a vision?

"I knew it," Marvin gasps. "'Not relevant,' my ass. You just didn't want to share, did you?"

I HOPED it wouldn't be relevant, Jameson says. After all, the future is not set in stone. And I... I couldn't believe what I saw. Why would that be the future we're heading towards?

"What was it?" Chase asks, suddenly sitting up straight.

Forgive me for not telling you earlier, Jameson says, looking at the Swaps. But... it was, indeed, of your friend Alt. He was wearing that royal crest uniform we saw him in earlier. And he was... somewhere very strange. A forest, with large trees of varying colors, the green all so much more vivid than anything I've ever seen. There was flora that glowed bright enough to make it like daylight despite the canopy of—

"THAT'S THE WYLDWOOD!" Marvin shouts.

All the swaps eyes widen.

“…you lied to us.” Henny says quietly. But then he shakes his head, “but I… understand why.”

Then, They all jump when Marvin shouts.

“…what’s the wyldwoods?” Jackieboy asks.

"Marvin, you interrupted," Henrik mutters, eyes still a bit distant--but it's the most he's said in a while.

"Oh. Oh. S-sorry, Jair."

It's alright, Jameson says. I'm sorry for lying, yes. But... visions are tricky. I didn't want to worry you about something that might not happen.

"Don't take it personally," Chase says. "He hid one of his visions from me for weeks, even when I asked about it."

I just sometimes think it's better this way, Jameson says. Though, honestly, I'm surprised none of you knew what I was saying anyway. If this had been six years ago you would've heard me compelled to speak it out loud. I suppose the handspeak throws a rock in the river. He adjusts the neck bow he wears--and if the Swaps look closely enough, they might see the white lines of scars. In any case. Marvin, can you explain the Wyldwood?

Marvin nods. He looks at the Swaps. "This world has magic everywhere. It's constantly there, beneath the surface of everything."

"Fast, please," Jackie mutters.

"This is necessary! They probably don't know this! In any case, sometimes there are spots on the world where the magic is closer to the surface than usual. It sort of... bubbles up. Like--like groundwater forming a spring. Those are the Wyldlands. Wyldfields, Wyldsands, Wyldrocks. Half of Glasúil's island is a huge Wyldwood. A forest of pure magic."

Henny’s eyes glimmer with fascination. “An entire forest of magic? That is incredible!”

Marvin grins. "It is quite incredible. But... also dangerous." His grin fades.

Jackieboy frowns, “…why would Alt be there though…? I mean… he loves magic but…”

“Did anything else happen in the vision?” Dr. J asks quietly.

I saw Alt walking through this forest, Jameson continues. He was alone. And he was following this... this bird. I don't know what type it was. I... don't know if it was a natural sort of bird at all. The edges of its wings were... like that sharp light Alt sometimes becomes. He was following it until they arrived in a clearing and the bird landed on this curled plant that was growing out of the ground. It grew bigger in size. And started to change beyond that. But then the vision ended.

Chase leans forward, eyes wide. "Are you sure?" he whispers.

Yes. Why?

"I can't be sure, but... somehow... that bird reminds me of the deer with golden antlers," Chase says. "The one that we've agreed is probably some facet of an Elder."

“An… Elder?” Henny asks with a tilt of his head.

“…I feel like Alt might have mentioned them but… I can’t remember.” Jackieboy comments.

"Gods," Henrik says shortly, eyes focusing on Henny and Jackieboy. "They're the gods of Glasúil."

Dr. J’s eyes widen, “Gods?”

"I said this last time Bro and Alt were here, I'll say it again, that doesn't feel right," Marvin says. "That implies they have worldwide power, but the Elders are tied to the land of Glasúil. And their domains are limited."

Henrik looks at him. "If you worship them and have days for them, they are gods. That is how it works."

Jackie laughs. "How're you feeling, Schneep?"

"Better," he says. "Not perfect. But I will not have Marvin reject this again. They are gods."

"Figures that that is what brought you back," Jackie giggles.

“Woahhh-“ Jackieboy whispers, “So… a god might be helping Alt?”

“T-that is good then! Maybe they can free him from Magnificent and that awful king!” Henny adds hopefully. “And then.. maybe he can find us again- or we can go looking for him!”

"Well... we were going to the Wyldwood anyway," Chase says slowly. "That's, uh... sort of our... quest? Maybe we can... see if Alt is there? So... if we want to go looking for him, that's on the way."

“Damn- that’s some d&d-esque vocab-“ Jackieboy laughs slightly.

“We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your quest…” Dr. J says.

"I hope an Elder can undo whatever spell he's under," Jackie mutters. "It's magic from another world. And... we all know there's something unnatural about that spirit."

Henny frowns and looks over at Bro and then startles as he sees movement. “C-Chase!”

Bro is pushing himself up, blinking blearily out. Then he stiffens as he takes in all the people in the tent and he tries to back pedal back, trying to look for his weapon he doesn’t have. “W-What the hells?!”

Marvin whispers the word "hell?" under his breath in a confused tone.

“W-Where am I?! W-who are all of-?!” Bro starts to say then he sees the fantasy boys and he seems to relax slightly. But the swaps look at each other with confusion and concern.

The guys all stare at him, relieved at first, and then worried.

"...Chase? Bro?" Chase asks slowly. "Um... how are you feeling?"

"Do you... not recognize them?" Henrik adds.

That's concerning, Jameson says, frowning.

Bro looks at the fantasy boys and shakes his head, “um… no I… I don’t. I.., I remember you all though.”

“What?! That’s bullshit!” Jackieboy cries out, “I’ve known you for fucking years, Chase! So has JJ! How do you remember guys you barely knew for a couple of days but not us?!”

Henny is trying to hide his tears and Dr. J is just staring at Bro, the gears in his head turning.

Bro backs up more, curling up defensively, glaring at him with blue glowing eyes. “I don’t know! That’s all I remember! I… I woke up on the lake outside Suilthair and… tried to find Alt cuz I… I remembered him. Then…” He slowly starts to pale. “…then the King found me.”

"All you remember..." Marvin repeats. "You... only remember what happened in this world. Interesting. I'm not sure how that happened, but that must be it."

“That… that can’t…” Bro says slowly, shaking his head. “What do you mean this world? There’s others?”

“Holy fucking shit…” Jackieboy breathes, mouth agape. “He… he thinks he’s from here!”

“I-I am! …aren’t I?” Bro protests. Then he frowns and tries to think. “…that’s why it’s all I can remember… right?”

Chase slowly shakes his head, giving a little laugh. "N-no. You're not from here. I--This is so strange. We're the same, don't you remember? How can there be two of us?"

Bro looks like his brain is breaking after Chase’s statement. “…I…”

“Fuck dude I think you broke him-“ Jackieboy mutters.

Chase gives Bro a smile, looking slightly guilty. "Uh... sorry if I confused you too much right there. But... it's worth thinking about."

“…my memories didn’t include you… o-or they did but it was… hazy. Like they… wouldn’t let me remember you fully. Just that you were a friend…” Bro says quietly, playing with his fingers.

"I think we can guess what happened once the King found you," Jackie mutters. "Magnificent was with him. They... they twisted your mind."

I'm so sorry, Jameson says, sympathy in his eyes.

"But--but these guys are right, you do know them," Chase says.

Henny hiccups slightly, “M-Magnificent messed with your head! He made you forget us! Like when he turned Alt into B-Blitz…!”

“I… I think it might be more than that.” Dr. J says, “…it seems like his memories were… erased as soon as he got here. Whatever affected the TRVLR affected Alt and Bro too. And Magnificent and the King took advantage of it.” He slowly pulls out his watch and looks at it, conflicted. “…memories… can’t truly be erased forever though… there’s always a chance for them to come back…”

Henrik notices JJ taking out the watch. "Another one of those devices? What can that do for his memories? It is not more magic, is it?"

Dr. J startles slightly at Henrik’s question and then looks back out at the watch and rubs a thumb on it slowly. He laughs, but it sounds sad. “No…no magic. But… my profession is- …was… a healer of the mind. And I could use this… to help. The others actually used to go to me regularly… I… I might be able to help.” His eyebrows furrow and he looks like he wants to panic. “I… I haven’t… been able to… r-recently though…”

Henrik blinks. He leans closer to JJ and puts a hand on his shoulder. "We all have... difficulty sometimes," he says. "Even with things that we enjoy, or things that we know how to do well. It is alright. Do you think it is worth trying anyway? After all, I am not sure if there is magic in our world to restore memories."

"Not that I know of," Marvin says. "But even if there was, matters of the mind need an enchanter, and we don't have any with us."

Dr. J doesn’t look at Henrik as he listens, still rubbing a thumb on the familiar surface of his watch.

Henny watches, then gently comes over and cups his hands under Jj’s. He smiles warmly. “I think you should try Juwel… you are very good at what you do. And you have healed so much! I believe you can heal Chase’s mind. You are our good doctor, after all!”

“Besides,” Jackieboy adds with a smirk, “What better way is there to get back at Mag? Undoing his spell using your hypno skills!”

Dr. J chuckles quietly, gripping onto his watch. Then, he slowly nods. “okay… I… I can try. For Chase…”

Bro watches this exchange and tilts his head, his chest feeling… warm. This… doctor. He seems to want to do a lot… just for him.

Jackieboy looks around, “Uhh… can we do that here…? Or should we get him somewhere less… crowded?”

"Up to you guys," Jackie says.

Yes, we're not exactly sure how this will work, Jameson adds. What did you call it?

"'Hihp-noh,' I think," Chase says.

“Oh Jackie shortened it… it’s called ‘hypnotism’.” Dr. J corrects, “…it’s… well it’s relaxing the patient into a trance like state that opens their mind up easier to suggestions. Like… I use it to help Jackie sleep, because usually his mind is against it.”

Jackieboy nods in agreement.

"Ah." Henrik nods. "I think... I think I heard of that when I was younger. Something that was used in the nearby kingdom Pannor. It went by a different name... and I do not think it exists here."

"I've never heard of such a practice," Marvin agrees.

Not without enchantment being used as well, Jameson adds.

Bro looks between everyone with mild confusion.

"It's safe, right?" Jackie asks, sounding a bit nervous. "I mean, I guess if it's used to help people sleep, it can't be bad..."

"I trust our friend here," Henrik says.

“It is safe!” Henny bounces slightly, “Juwel makes sure we all feel safe and nice and does not make us do uncomfortable things!”

Jackieboy’s eyes flash a bit with concealed anger. “…J’s not a manipulator like mag… who uses these mind games for evil. He just wants to help people.”

"I-I didn't mean to imply he was," Jackie stammers. "I'm sorry. I'm just concerned, I guess. I trust you guys, too."

"If you need the space we can step out for a moment.“ Henrik says, “It sounds like the rain is fading."

Though there's still the sound of raindrops hitting the fabric tent, it's quieter than before.

"Go on and get started," Chase says. "We'll wait."

Bro starts to look at Dr. J and now he looks… unsure. Almost scared. “…you can help me… remember…?” He asks quietly.

This breaks Dr. J out of his hesitation. “O-Of course I will Chase…” He gets up and then starts to arrange everyone around the tent, giving him and Bro enough room.

“You all are welcome to observe,” Dr. J whispers nervously, “But if anyone feels uneasy… you can leave. I will not be offended.”

The boys from this world scoot to the side a bit, unconsciously giving Dr. J room to work.

Then Dr. J settles down in front of Bro and dangles his watch. “Alright Chase… I need you to try to track the movement of this watch with your eyes. Try to keep them open until I say so, okay?”

“O-Okay…” Bro breathes

“Good. Now watch and start to take deep careful breaths. In with me- hold it- then let it out…”

Bro takes slow shaky breaths.

“Good, good. Do that again and as you do, close your eyes as you exhale. And as you breathe… feel warmth start to spread through your body- starting at your feet and going up.”

Dr. J leads Bro gently through the initial trance- and eventually the fantasy boys can see the hero slumping slightly, like he’s fallen asleep.

Dr. J doesn’t seem bothered by this though and keeps going.

“Alright Chase… now that you’re down so deep for me, you and I are going to remove that mental block that’s hiding your memories. Those are yours… you should have access to them. Feel that block fade away completely, opening your memories up to you.”

Bro stiffens slightly, his eyes opening for just a second to pulse with purple light. Then, it cracks and fades away completely. His eyes slip back closed and he relaxes even more, looking more at ease.

Henny lightly shakes Dr. J’s arm with excitement.

Dr. J swallows and keeps going. “Remembering is a priority for you now, Chase. You should find it easy, it’s no longer a battle to remember. Let the false memories of being from this world fade. Recall how you met us… met your friends. Met your girlfriend. Let it come back, Chase.”

And… Bro does. He remembers the first drinking party he went to, running into Jackie. They tried to play rugby and were terrible. He remembers the first dnd meeting he went to with J, being captivated by his storytelling and gentle voice. He remembers meeting Henny in J’s office, the day they took Alt out to the cafe. He remembers Stacy, the first night he saw her, trying and failing to be a hero for the first time, slumping into the bar to order a drink from her… He sighs, a light smile coming to his face.

Dr. J smiles too and slowly encourages Chase to wake up, “okay good good… if you feel that block coming back- remember that these are yours, Chase. These memories will always be with you- easy to access. You don’t have to forget. Now, let’s wake you up.”

The fantasy boys stay quiet as they watch, all undeniably fascinated in his work. Jackie remains a bit nervous the whole time, but not because of the hypnotism. More because he's worried that some remaining magic will cause problems. But it doesn't, so he slowly lets his guard down. Marvin leans his head against Jameson, slumping into him, relaxed. Something about Dr. J's voice is really calming. Jameson glances down at him and smiles, giving a silent breath of fond laughter. Henrik can't help but lean forward a bit, intrigued by this whole process. If this trance-like state can help people sleep and restore lost memories, what else can it do? He hopes that it catches on in this world as well, maybe it could help people.

The good doctor counts slowly up from 5 and as he reaches 1, he snaps. Bro blinks open his eyes and sits up straight, looking out at everyone. He’s quiet for a second, letting everything get processed.

The group all look at each other, hesitant hope on their faces. "Bro...?" Chase asks quietly.

Tears come into Bro’s eyes as he smiles. “I… I remember. I remember!!” Then the hero tackle hugs his friends, the other 3 laughing and getting misty eyed too.

Bro is laughing at first then just hugging the others tighter as he hiccups quietly. Jackieboy playfully tries to get out from his grip, grinning. Henny is hugging Bro back just as tightly. Dr. J looks relieved.

Finally, Bro lets go and leans back looking at the fantasy boys as he wipes at his eyes. “God… that fucking sucked! That was the weirdest shit…!” He holds his head and bites back a whine. “My head is still kinda hurting but…a-at least I’m… I’m me again.” He laughs.

Chase smiles at seeing the others so happy. Jackie laughs, relieved that this, at least, is over.

"It's good to have you back," Henrik says. "And I think your friends feel that a hundred times more than we do."

I can imagine it's quite strange to look back on it, Jameson says.

"Reminds me of stories about the Fair Folk tricking people into thinking they live with them," Chase muses. "But at least what happened to you was much shorter than it was in those stories."

“God yeah!! It’s like- exactly that!” Bro says, gesturing wildly. “It was like I was in some… dream! Where while you’re sleeping it all makes sense but… eventually you wake up and realize none of it makes sense at all! I… I forgot I was a hero! I forgot about my friends and my life and…”

“…you don’t need to worry Chase,” Jackieboy says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We won’t let that happen again… and we’ll make Mag and that fucking King pay for what they did.”

“Problem is…” Bro mutters, “…whatever Mag did… I can’t remember that much either. It was like- inception! A dream within a dream. Everything was so… foggy. It felt so wrong. But, what I heard from them was… the only thing that made sense.” Bro then perks up and starts to look around more, “That reminds me… where’s Alt? You… you guys managed to find him too, right?”

Henny squeaks slightly without meaning to and covers his mouth, not able to look at Bro.

The guys all look at each other, unsure how to break the news. "I'm... sorry, Bro," Jackie says quietly. "We--we saw him, but--while we had him cornered they managed to take him away. He's... still with them."

"But, ah, we think we know where they are going!" Henrik adds hurriedly. "So--so we can go after them!"

Bro is quiet for a long second, his eyes wide. Then, they crackle with angry energy as he gets to his feet and looks ready to burst out the tent.

Jackieboy has to grab his foot to stop him. “Chase just-!”

“W-Why are we all just standing around caring about me still?! I’m fine! Let’s go! W-We gotta find him!”

"Elders, Chase--Bro, calm down!" Jackie reaches over and helps his other self stop Bro. "It's terrible, I know! But you can't just rush off like that!"

"And that's coming from Jackie, so you know that's important." Marvin, previously still very relaxed, is now up and tense. "Bro, listen. He's in--or will be in--somewhere called the Wyldwood. And it's a huge location. If you run off you'll get lost!"

Bro is shaking, trying to blink back panicked tears. He grips his hands into fists and closes his eyes. “I… I’m supposed to protect him! And he’s… he’s…!”

“It was not your fault, Sternschnuppe…” Henny says gently, “It is Magnificent’s fault!”

“You didn’t even have your memories until 5 minutes ago bro!” Jackieboy points out.

“You need to rest… we all do, Chase.” Dr. J adds, “Marvin said the Wyldwoods are dangerous… we cannot just rush in. We need to prepare and regroup… remember you can’t save anyone by running yourself into the ground.”

Bro eventually deflates and shakes off the others before plopping back down and wiping at his face. He slowly nods. “…right… o-okay…”

Jackieboy comes over and holds his shoulder, “…we’ll find him, Chase.”

“We will.” Jackie nods. “As long as you guys are here, the Masked Phantoms will assist you.”

“We will rest out the rain, then look into boat repairs,” Henrik says. “See how fast we can repair the damage. If it can be done quickly, the boat will greatly help us. The fastest way to the Wyldwood is to follow the waters back to the Cliffs, then go across land from there.”

“The King and Magnificent are stuck on land so they’ll be moving much slower,” Chase says. “Even with those magic doorways the King can conjure.”

“Do you think we might be able to beat them there? If Marvin knows it better and if we can get the boat fixed?” Henny asks hopefully.

“I think so, yes,” Marvin says, nodding. “The King does have the ability to make magical doorways across far distances, but that takes a lot of power, even for him.”

Henny grins wide, “Then, there is hope!”

How does one prepare for going INTO the Wyldwood? Jameson asks.

“Smaller groups are better,” Marvin recalls. “They attract less attention. I have to go because I’m the only one who’s been there, and Chase has to go because he was the one summoned, and the visitors have to go to help find Alt. You other three—”

“Don’t pretend like we’d let you all walk into the Wyldwood alone,” Jackie interrupts.

Jackieboy nods to his other half, “Yeah! We gotta have each others backs right? Leave no man behind!”

“Precisely!” Jackie smiles at his other self. “We should spend the trip there teaching you guys how to defend yourselves. Like we did with Bro and Alt. I can’t imagine you’ll be experts, but you will be able to hold your own in a fight. If you all want, of course. I think it’s necessary but we won’t force you.”

Jackieboy’s eyes sparkle as he grins too, “Fuck yeah I wanna learn!”

Dr. J hums in thought, “…I guess that is something useful to learn… mayhaps a ranged weapon for me? I was… never much of a fighter.”

Henny thinks, “hmmm… I do not know what I should learn for defense… but I trust you all will know! I want to make sure we can help!”

Bro looks at his friends warmly. Then, he glances down at his tunic and frowns. He grabs at it and starts to rip it apart, leaving only the chainmail and undershirt underneath. He looks up to the Phantoms and smirks. “…I’m ready to be a Masked Phantom again… if you all will have me.”

Jackie laughs. "Of course we'll have you, Bro! But, uh, you don't need to tear up the tunic."

"How did you tear up the tunic?" Henrik says. "Oh, ah, yes, I forget about your strength."

Bro blinks and blushes bright red, “oh..r-right.”

Jackieboy laughs and leans against Bro, “You just went ham on that dude! Like the fucking hulk!”

“Well… it made me angry looking at it! I don’t wanna be walking around with that fucker’s symbol on my chest! Especially not around the other Phantoms!” Bro mumbles, looking away to hide his red face.

"It's fine, we can repurpose the cloth," Chase says. "And once the rain clears up, we'll see what you guys can work with. We have some spare weapons. Mostly various blades but I think there are some ranged ones, too."

I think the rain will clear up soon, Jameson says, listening to the sound of it on the tent.

“Yeah! We can make that tunic cloth into ropes to tie that fucker up and throw him in the river!” Jackieboy says with a sly grin.

Henny raises a finger, “Uh… other c-chase said the king was being possessed, ja? So…”

“..sooo no river. But we can still tie him up!”

“Oh dear…” Dr. J says with a shake of his head.

"Yes, there's some spirit controlling his body," Chase mutters.

"The rest of us are still getting used to it too, don't worry," Henrik adds.

"We can still tie him up!" Marvin agrees. "Better that than wandering around!"

"You know, the real King, Jack, is actually pretty nice," Chase says quietly, looking down. "I've, uh... I've been having dreams about him for a while. Magic dreams, ones that are really happening. I don't... want anything to happen to Jack. He's been through enough."

Marvin blinks. "So... we can't tie him up."

"No, I mean, you're right, it's better than the alternative."

Bro blinks, “…Jack huh? Alt’s friend back home is called Jack. And… we’ve met some pretty cool jacks in the other worlds… I guess… he’s a constant too. Sometimes, at least.”

Dr. J frowns, “Dealing with possession and mind controlled people is… so tricky. But, I’m sure whatever we need to do… this Jack will understand.”

“…I hope he’s okay… in there.” Bro says quietly. “Well I mean it probably sucks but.. y-you know what I mean.”

“He’s getting along,” Chase says. “And you’re right. I’m sure he’ll understand. And it’s good to know that there are other hims in other worlds who are alright.”

Henrik pats his shoulder. “We will make sure that spirit pays.” Then he looks at Bro and the others. “And we will make sure Magnificent pays for what he’s done to Alt as well.”

Bro eyes flash angrily with silver blue light. “Yes we will.”

Henrik pauses. “I think the rain is letting up…”

Dr. J looks at the entrance to the tent then starts to stand up. “Well then… sounds like we have a lot to get started on, gentlemen.”

Jackie nods, standing up. “Let’s go check on the boat.”

The others get up and follow him outside. It’s still a little gloomy, and there are puddles on the grass, but the rain has let up significantly. Only a few droplets land every so often. Other Phantoms are also leaving the tents.

Henrik spots Vsevna and rushes over to him, asking about the damage.

“Every other Phantom here is a sailor of some kind,” Marvin explains. “We can leave most of the boat to them. I believe one of them is also a sorcerer, that will help with the repairs. The rest of us can… well, do what we will.”

Bro watches Henrik rush over to Vsenva and tilts his head. “huh- Henrik sure went over to that other guy fast… who is he?”

“Oh! That is other me’s partner!” Henny explains with a smile.

“his what?!” Bro asks with a dropped jaw, “oh my god is that who you all were teasing him about last time??”

Jackieboy laughs.

Jackie grins. "Yes, that's exactly who we were teasing him about last time."

And they haven't stopped now that it's official, Jameson adds.

"His reactions are just too fun."

"They really are." Marvin laughs under his breath.

Bro grins and whispers back, “oh Alt is the same! You should see how we reacts when we bring up his partner Oliver!”

Jackieboy snickers.

Henrik returns at that very moment. "What are you all talking about?" He narrows his eyes slightly.

"Oh. Nothing." Jackie grins.

"Hmmm, sure." Henrik decides not to press. "Vsevna says that the main damage was to the mast. The fires on the deck were back but they do not prevent the boat from moving. We will have to repurpose some of the tent fabric for the sail, and we need to find wood for the mast itself."

"Plenty of trees around," Chase says, looking at their surroundings.

Dr. J nods to the Fantasy Boys with a small smile. “We’re here to help too, however we can.”

"Thank you for offering," Marvin says to Dr. J. "You know your capabilities better than we do, so if there's anything you think you can do, please let us know."

Bro raises his hand, “I could help get wood. Got that super strength you know- or like.. if you need help lifting anything heavy.”

"Right, yes, the strength would really help!" Henrik nods.

“Henny and me could help with the sails I think-“ Jackieboy shrugs, “I can sew alright- I help make my kids Halloween costumes.”

“if you guys can sew that would definitely save time," Chase adds. "Now we just need to decide which tents we need the least."

"We'll see if we can separate people into groups for the sails and mast," Jackie says. "Vsevna can take the lead since he's the captain. I think Chase and Marvin and I could help gather materials while Jameson and Henrik help with the sewing as well. Is that good with everyone?"

They all agree that this arrangement works best.

Dr. J nods, “I can help gather things as well.”

"Thank you, JJ," Jackie says. "Now let's go. No time to waste. We need to find some sturdy trees."

"The rest of us this way, we will talk with everyone about what tents to use," Henrik says, gesturing to where the other Phantoms are gathering.

Jameson tilts his head towards Jackieboy as they start to walk. What's that word you said? For the costumes? Is it an event?

Jackieboy turns towards Jameson then grins. “oh!! Halloween! It’s a… well it’s a day that kids dress up in costumes and go around getting candy. But it’s like- based on people dressing up as like spirits and shit so they wouldn’t be haunted… or something like that. It’s rad. One of the best holidays in my opinion!”

Jameson's eyes widen. He smiles. That sounds like Three Death's Day. It takes place halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It's also when I was born.

"Wait, really?" Chase asks. "That has to be some kind of omen."

Everyone says that when I tell them, yes.

"Hey! Maybe that's your guys' version of Halloween! Jay's birthday is on Halloween too."

Dr. J blushes slightly and then smiles softly, "... I did quite enjoy it a lot as a lad. And it's fun now with my daughter..."

Chase grins. "My kids enjoy dressing up for Three Death's Day too. Even if we sometimes can't go anywhere to show others."

He then nods as they spilt up. "Well. Good luck." And he and Marvin follow after Jackie while Jameson follows Henrik. Bro nods to his friends and sticks with Jackie abd Marvin to head into the forest. Dr. J, Jackieboy and Henny follow after Henrik.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

As the sun starts to set, Aneirin finally pulls the horses to a stop. "We have to stop for the night," he says. "I know you don't need food, Magnificent, but the horses do, as does this body--and Alt too, I assume." He checks the saddlebags. There's some provisions in there. Nothing for the horses; they'll have to graze.

Alt startles slightly from dozing and then glitches off the back of the horse to stand on the ground. Ugh.. he’s exhausted.

Magnificent snorts then gets off the horse and stretches. “Yeah alright- do whatever you all need to do.” He moves to sit down against the closest tree.

Alt looks between Mag and the King and watches warily- unsure if he’s allowed to relax or let down his guard at all.

The King pulls out some travel provisions: some flat bread with dried meat and fruit. He gives Alt just enough to keep him going. "Eat, and then keep watch," he says. "I'll tend to the horses."

Alt slowly nods, taking the provisions and sitting down to eat, anxiously looking around for any threats.

The King turns back and starts doing just that, mentally commanding them to eat. He usually doesn't like to waste power on animals but they need to have them ready to go as soon as possible. He glances back at Magnificent. "Does this spell drain your magic to keep it up?" he says in a low voice, gesturing back to Alt.

Magnificent opens his eye and looks back at the King and then glances at Alt. He hums, “Not too much… with the supply of magic in the air I can keep it up easier than usual. And I know how to keep this one well under. It’s not my first time~” He giggles.

Aneirin grins. "Glad to hear it, then." He sits down on the ground and begins to eat as well. They should get a fire started soon. "I have been wondering... how many other worlds have you been to? I know there must be more than just these two. "

“Oh… good question. Let’s see…” He mentally counts for a second, “Oh about 7 now? I’ve been to one other twice now-“

Aneirin's eyes flash. "Fascinating. I hear there are nations up north who believe there are anywhere from nine to twelve realms. But since I met you, that seemed doubtful to me. If our two worlds are so different, surely there must be many more, spanning the differences between them. And you plan to see more, yes? I think I remember seeing that in your mind the last time."

Magnificent grins, “Oh yes. There’s so many worlds to see I’m sure of it… infinite possibilities! So much magic to learn about… to harness. I want to see them all.”

Aneirin grins back. "My ambition of conquering other nations seems so small in the face of that." The grin slowly fades. "I'm not sure if you'll believe me when I say this, but... the sentiment of everything I said in Killithair palace last time holds true, if not the specifics."

Magnificent chuckles. “…I remember.” His smile falls as he glares back at the king. “A shame it ended the way it did, hm?” He looks away from the King, gripping his hand into a fist.

Aneirin's eyes darken. He nods and looks away as well. "I suppose it couldn't be helped," he mutters. "Perhaps... no." He shouldn't suggest that things may turn out differently. It would only read as either a trick or a weakness. By their very natures neither one of them will wait and stop.

Magnificent is quiet for a second he speaks up, “…I did want to work with you before, you know. It was… unusual. To find someone else who had similar ambitions to me. …even if I chose this path… it was… nice. To not feel…” He grips his claws tighter in his hand.

“…out of all the worlds I’ve seen I have liked this one the most. It’s a great place as a base of operations… if we can find that portal, this world… and others could all be ours.” He finally looks back at Aneirin. His expression is unreadable.

Aneirin looks back at him as well. His expression is equally unreadable, but the shadow he casts on the tree behind him seems to be moving. Shifting to the side like a curious animal. "It... was nice, wasn't it?" he says quietly. "And combined... with the portal... we could do it." He nods slowly. "I would like that. It would be nice to see other worlds... and even better to rule them." A faint smile traces his mouth. "We need to get there first, of course."

Magnificent slowly starts to grin too. “Well yes. Our next goal!” Then he lets his face fall to something serious again, for a second. “ …I don’t want to betray you, Aneirin. Not anymore. I think our best shot at getting rid of our pests is together. Alright?” He holds out his hand towards the King, like he’s offering a deal. But- the King doesn’t sense any ill intent towards him. There’s still anger, at the betrayal. But, Mag does believe they’re stronger together.

Aneirin looks at the hand. He slowly nods. "Yes. Together."

And he takes Magnificent's hand and shakes it.

"Here's to getting rid of all our problems. And to seeing what we can do with each other's help."

A deal--a vow--is a significant thing in Glasúil. And though Aneirin once had no problem breaking them... maybe this could be different. He looks Mag in the eyes, keeping contact for a moment. Then quickly looks away again.

"We should get started on a fire."

Magnificent grins wide and pulls back. He gets up and looks back down, “I can get wood… or we could ask our cub to run us an errand~”

Alt has been spacing out, trying not to fall asleep as he eats. He’s so tired and he aches. But he has to stay awake… he blinks blearily, watching as Mag gets up.

Aneirin smirks. "If we have him, might as well use him, yes? At the very least his ghlishing could make it go faster."

Magnificent giggles and nods, “You’re so right! Alt! Go fetch us some wood for the fire.”

Alt stiffens as his eyes glow greener. He glitches to his feet and leaves whatever was left of his provisions on the ground, “Yes, my liege.” He bows, then he glitches off. Mag chuckles and then sits back down and stretches out.

Aneirin grins. "I usually prefer not to have servants around, but this is quite convenient." He stretches as well. "When he comes back I can light it. Then we'll rest for the night."

They still had some way to go. But he was sure that they would make good time.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

It took the rest of the day to get the mast and sail repaired on the boat. Honestly, it probably would have taken longer if they didn't have magic--and Bro's super strength--on their side. By the time the sun reaches the horizon, everything is done.

"The deck still needs its work," Vsevna says. "But this is urgent matter, so we can sail without it."

"Thank you, Vsevna," Henrik says.

"Ha! No, thank you, and everyone else as well."

"Especially to you." Henrik looks at the Swaps. "You have worked very hard. The effort is appreciated."

The swaps look tired but they smile at the others. Henny blushes and waves his hands, “It was nothing!”

“We were glad to help,” Dr. J says with a smile.

Jackieboy rubs at his eyes and suppresses a yawn. “We getting back on the water right away?”

Bro is a little ways away from the others, watching the sunset, his heart heavy.

"Do we have someone to steer the ship?" Marvin asks. "Or is everyone too tired?"

"Anya says she can do it," Vsevna says. "We will have a few people on lookout while everyone else rests."

"Shifts?" Henrik asks.

"Of course."

"You guys don't have to stay on lookout," Jackie says to the Swaps right away. "It's been a long day for you, and you're probably not used to sleeping in shifts."

“I’m used to staying up,” Jackieboy grumbles, “So I can if we need.”

“You also have insomnia and as one of your doctors I say- no dice, Jackie.” Dr. J scolds.

Jackie is about to argue when a large yawn interrupts him before he can stop it. His ears turn red. “…I guess you have a point.”

We have some sleeping tonics if you ever want to try that, Jameson says to Jackieboy.

Jackie chuckles. "Maybe the cure for your sleeping troubles is to have a battle every day."

Don't encourage that, Jackie.

Jackieboy laughs, “You know at first that sounded fun… but now that I’m actually doing it I’m not sure I like it. Life needs to be boring sometimes!”

"Indeed it does," Jackie agrees. "Let's hope for life to be boring again one day!"

Jackieboy grins. “Hear hear!”

Chase notices Bro standing off to the side. He walks over to him while Marvin and Henrik discuss lookout duties with Vsevna. "Worried, huh?" he says quietly. "We'll move as fast as we can. Alt is tough, I'm sure he'll be okay." He pauses. "Not going to tell you to stop worrying, though. I know that's not something you can just stop."

Bro just barely turns to look back at his other self before looking back at the sky. He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “…if I lost my memories… then Alt must have too… he’s.. he’s all alone.” His lip warbles as he says quietly. “…I promised him that he would never have to be alone again…” He closes his eyes tightly and breathes deeply before turning back towards Chase. “…i.. I know this isn’t my fault.. I just… I hate that this has happened to him again…”

Chase's expression softens. "Yea... I think I know how you're feeling." He glances down the river. "I... My family... They were left behind in Suilthair. I-I feel like I have to help them, but I just can't." He laughs drily. "Not much you can do when a ghost and a god tell you to go somewhere. You have to listen immediately." He looks back at Bro. "We're doing everything we can. It's hard to remember that sometimes. But... we have to try."

Bro gives Chase a sympathetic glance. “…I’m sorry about your family, Chase…” He takes another deep breath then nods. “…you’re right. I’m sure deep down… Alt knows I’m coming. …I’m sure your family knows the same.” He looks back at Chase and smirks, “We just gotta visit a deadly magic forest first.”

Chase smiles. "Y-yea. I promised Amabel I'd be back. But for now... to the Wyldwood. We'll find Alt and see what there is to see there."

Bro smiles. He nods and pats Chase on the shoulder as he walks towards the boat with the others.

"Alright, everyone!" Henrik claps his hands for attention. "We are boarding!"

Behind him, Vsevna and a couple others are pulling the gangplank into place. "All on board, then!" Marvin says, scooping up Draco and walking on as soon as the plank is in place. Jameson follows him, then Jackie, then Henrik. Chase waits, wanting the others to get on first.

The rest of the swaps head onto the boat, making sure they got everything they need.

As soon as everyone's on, the few Phantoms acting as the night crew get to work rotating the new sail around to catch the wind. The current of the water heads south, the way they're going, so they won't need the wind, but it's always nice to have an extra boost.

"Deck's dried after all that rain, finally," Jackie comments. "We don't have much space in the hold--this is a river boat, not a ship, after all--so a couple people might need to sleep up here."

"We can take turns in the small cabin," Henrik suggests.

"No, we all know that's for you and Vsevna," Marvin says jokingly.

Chase chuckles. "Besides, we'll only have this boat for about a day before we have to switch again, right? Not much use taking turns."

Jackieboy and Henny giggle at Marvin’s joke too.

Bro stretches, “I don’t mind sleeping out here.”

“I will do whatever you all need us to do!” Henny says cheerfully.

“I can sleep anywhere,” Jackie yawns.

Dr. J chuckles, “You all just tell us where we should go.”

Henrik gives Marvin a glare, then moves on. "It would feel rude to have you sleep out in the open. You are our guests. Guests in this world, I mean."

"But it could be nice to sleep under the stars," Chase says, looking upwards. If the Swaps were to look too, they'd see those stars already starting to form. In fact, there seems to be an unusually high number of them already.

Dr. J, Jackie and Henny all look up as Chase does. Henny’s eyes light up as he sees all the stars forming. “Oh mein god!! Look at all the stars!! Oh I have not seen so many in so long!!”

Dr. J lets out an awed gasp, “Wow…”

“Dude… that’s fucking sick-“ Jackieboy laughs.

Bro laughs too and wraps his arm around Jackie, looking up too. “…it’s gorgeous isn’t it?”

"Hmm? Oh, the sky?" Jackie looks up. "The sky is always pretty, isn't it?"

"Judging by your reactions... your stars back home must be different, yes?" Henrik says. "Are there... less off them?"

“….they are… not as bright. At least where we are.” Dr. J says quietly. “The modern world… it sometimes messes with what we can see of the natural world.“

“The stars were brighter when I was younger…” Henny breathes, “It was one thing I missed about… home.”

"When I was very young I would spend ages staring at the stars from my window," Marvin says, a small smile on his face.

"I wonder if our constellations are the same. I doubt it, but it'd be always good to ask." Chase says.

Bro looks back at Chase and shrugs, “I dunno- I didn’t get to look last time. Then, again none of us are big star guys.”

“Zara would know- she sees stuff like this all the time,” Jackieboy sighs, smiling. “…she’s gonna flip when I tell her all of this.”

The boys are all quiet for a second as they take a moment to appreciate the sky.

Chase clears his throat. "'Saruh' is your wife, right Jackieboy? Bro and Alt mentioned her a few times when they were here last. But they didn't mention what she did. Is she an astronomer?"

Jackieboy blinks out at Chase and then smiles. “Oh yeah… she’s… the love of my life. But no she’s not an astronomer… she studies creatures in the ocean. She’s sailing out at sea most of the year.”

"Oh! Studies the fishes and such? How interesting!" Henrik says, delighted. "I am betting that with the devices in your world you can go much deeper than we can. Perhaps down to the Forge itself. Though I am sure they would call that blasphemy."

"It is not actually at the bottom of the sea, sova!" Vsevna calls, overhearing the conversation as he passes by.

"Ah, right, right."

"Don't worry if you don't understand that, that's some stuff from another faith," Marvin comments for the Swaps.

Jackieboy laughs, “Yeah they got tons of fancy stuff. …I don’t know what most of them do but I listen real good and try to learn when she tells me!”

In any case, if you want to sleep on the deck we have to get the bedrolls from the hold, anyway, Jameson says. And if you want to stay in the hold... well... you go down into the hold. He chuckles silently.

Dr. J chuckles with his other self, “I think we might be okay with a night under the stars. I can help fetch the bedrolls.”

Jameson nods, smiling. Alright, down here, then.

After a brief trip down into the hold of the ship, the group has the bedrolls set up on the deck, tucked away near the wall so it won't interfere with any of the crew's duties. The boat is already going, gently rocking with the faint motion of the river waves.

Draco is trying to claim one of the bedrolls for himself. "No, not for you," Marvin says, grabbing him before he gets too comfortable. "At least wait until they get in."

Henny laughs and waves at Draco,” Thank you for getting it warm for me, katzchen!” He giggles as he settles down.

Dr. J settles in too and turns towards the wall, quickly seeming to fall asleep. Jackieboy shoulder checks Bro and smiles at him before climbing into his bed roll. He falls asleep pretty fast despite everything. The rest of the guys bid their visitors a good night before heading off to their own places to sleep.

Bro smiles at his friends resting and then sits down on his bedroll, sitting against the wall of the ship and looking up at the stars. “…hang in there, Anti… we’re coming as fast as we can…”