#now that I’ve been reminded I should work on it more often though

[miumura]

WAiTiN’ ON CALLS — S. JAEYUN 𓂃 ⭑

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) : jake misses you — too much for his own liking. he tries to move on, and by doing so, he gives you one last call. usually it would go directly to voicemail, but instead, he was greeted with you on the other line.

──── ex!jake x gn ! r . . . ⌕ ex 2 lovers, second chance, angst, fluff ∿ 𝔀ord count 2.1K+ ( 2196 ) ╱ HAPPY BF JAKE DAY 🤍 i’ve been dying to write a fic using this pic of jake ever since it got posted … so this is for me and my jake baes 🤍

Jake knew he was beyond exhausted—so tired that all he could manage after work was to head straight for his bed, not even bothering to take off his suit.

But despite the dim lighting and the comfort of sinking into his mattress, sleep refused to come. He tossed and turned, tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he sat up, turning on the radio to a soft, quiet tune as he stared at his phone.

He already knew what was on his mind.

His gaze settled on his contact list, focusing on one name—yours.

He missed you, more than he cared to admit. His eyes lingered on your icon, a picture he’d secretly taken during one of your dates. You’d demanded he delete it, but he never did. Instead, he kept it as a reminder of you, proudly showing it off whenever he got the chance.

A small, bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as his eyes trailed down to your name, the ache in his chest growing a little heavier.

My Love. He never bothered changing it—that name was reserved for you, and only you. Was it strange for him to keep it that way? He wasn't sure, but what he did know was that no matter what, you’d always be his love, even if he was the only one who still believed it.

Should he call you again?

His finger hovered over your name, hesitating—a rare feeling for him. He’d always called before, whenever he had a free moment. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a way to clear his head, but it had become a habit. Strangely enough, he found relief in those calls. They always went straight to voicemail, and he was certain you never listened to them.

That’s where he poured his heart out, leaving messages that no one would hear. It was sad, but in a way, comforting—like shouting into the void, knowing there'd be no echo, no response.

He often wondered why you hadn’t blocked him yet. Maybe, if you did, it would finally force him to move on.

Maybe that would give him the push he needed to let go.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He was the one holding onto the past, the one clinging to old habits. Why did he think calling you, of all things, would help him get over you? Even if someone asked him, he wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Maybe he didn’t really want to.

Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping for something—anything—from you.

He just wanted to hear your voice again, even though it felt impossible at this point. Pressing his lips together, he finally tapped the call button. Placing the phone on his thigh, Jake ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at the screen as the rings buzzed in the quiet room.

As usual, he fully expected you wouldn’t answer.

Normally, the sting of disappointment would hit him when you let his calls go unanswered, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was going to change.

This would be the last time he stared at your contact, the last time he pressed your number, and the last voicemail he'd leave. Tonight, he was finally going to say goodbye.

Tonight—

"Hello?"

His body went still.

For a moment, Jake couldn’t believe it. Your voice, so familiar yet distant, cut through the static of the call. He had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, but now that it was real, his words were trapped in his throat.

"Jake?" you repeated, sounding confused, maybe even concerned. "Are you there?"

He swallowed, trying to collect himself. "Hey," he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn’t expect you to pick up."

There was a brief silence on the other end, making his heart race, before you spoke again. "I didn’t expect to get so many calls... or all the voicemails."

"You... you listened to them?" he asked, barely able to believe it.

“Caught up on all of it yesterday,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly calm. “You really sent a lot, huh?”

Jake’s heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The plan to say goodbye, the resolution he had built up in his mind, seemed to dissolve the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t want to mess this up—he couldn’t.

“I still didn’t expect you to actually listen to them,” he said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be.

“How could I not?” you chuckled softly, attempting to ease the awkward tension. It was strange, both of you knew it. Talking to your ex, someone you swore you’d never contact again, felt surreal.

And yet, here you were—on the phone, waiting for him to say something more.

Jake took a breath, the weight of his next words heavy on his chest. "I was planning on this being the last call,” he confessed. “Since you never really picked up... I figured I was just bothering you."

There was a pause on the other end, and he held his breath, wondering what you’d say next.

"Would it be wrong to say I had a feeling?" you finally replied, voice soft.

"How could you tell?"

"Just... a gut feeling," you said, as if searching for the right words. "Or maybe because… I knew you."

His heart couldn’t help but falter—he knew you were not lying. You did know him, deeply once. But that closeness had slipped away when life had led you down different paths.

"Yeah," was all he could muster, the simplicity of the word masking the storm of emotions within him. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, or if he even wanted to.

“Do you mean every single voice message?” you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. Jake’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question.

“Of course I do,” he replied, gripping his phone tightly, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between you. His heart was pounding; he needed to make this count. “There isn’t a single thing I’ve sent to you that I’d ever want to take back. Every word was real. It’s exactly how I feel about you... about us.”

For a moment, vulnerability hung between you, both knowing this conversation could change everything. Jake could only hope you’d feel it too, that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to turn this into something more.

“Come see me then.”

“Huh?” Jake’s breath hitched, unsure if he’d heard you right.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging this time, are you?” you asked with a light chuckle, though your voice held a hint of nervousness. You hoped the laughter would mask how your heart was pounding, racing in anticipation.

Jake barely registered the words before he was scrambling to grab his keys, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Not this time,” he stammered, his voice shaking with excitement and a touch of panic. He could feel his pulse hammering as he fumbled with his shoes, trying to keep his hands steady.

The thought of seeing you, of finally closing the distance he’d been feeling for so long, filled him with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Take your time," you teased, though he could hear the faintest tremor in your voice, as if you were trying to calm yourself, too. But he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—wait.

He barely managed to lock his door, nearly tripping as he rushed down the stairs. His mind raced, playing over every word, every message he’d sent, wondering if this was finally his chance to make things right.

As he reached his car, hands fumbling for his keys, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to drive safely. But his heart wouldn’t slow, each beat pushing him forward with a desperate urgency.

Jake barely remembered the drive over, his mind racing faster than the car itself. As he pulled up in front of your house, he felt a fresh wave of nerves settle over him. He sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breath.

This was it.

With a final deep breath, he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to your door, his heart pounding with every step. He hesitated before raising his hand to knock, his mind swirling with questions.

But before he could overthink it, the door swung open, and there you were, standing there in the soft glow of your porch light. For a split second, neither of you spoke, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, though he could see the same nervousness reflected in your eyes. “Still in your work attire?”

Jake looked down, realizing for the first time that he was still in his slightly rumpled shirt and loosened tie, his rushed appearance suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, reaching up to grab his tie as if he could somehow hide it from you. But when he looked back up, he wore a shy smile, his eyes creasing in that gentle way that had always made your heart skip.

Before he could say anything else, you stepped closer, reaching up to fix his tie, your fingers brushing against the fabric with a delicate touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt like slipping back into something deeply familiar, a memory that had never truly faded.

“There,” you murmured softly as you adjusted the tie, smoothing out the collar. Your hand lingered for just a second longer, and in that moment, Jake felt everything—the unspoken words, the history, the quiet yearning.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice a little rough.

"I didn’t realize you wanted to see me that badly… especially after just finishing your shift,” you said with a hint of surprise. “You’ve always loved your job.”

Jake let out a small, wistful laugh, meeting your gaze. “Even after a long shift, that isn’t enough to distract me from you,” he admitted. You both knew how deeply he was dedicated to his work, how it had once been the thing that drew him away from you, consuming his time and energy. Something he loved had taken his real love away from him. But he couldn’t dwell on regrets now, not when this chance was standing right in front of him.

“Every time I get back from work, I have to leave a voicemail,” he confessed quietly, his words hanging between you both.

“Every night?” you asked, startled. You hadn’t realized just how much he’d been reaching out in those messages, hadn’t counted the days it had spanned. “That’s… a lot, Jake.”

He nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice raw with honesty.

You looked at him, noticing how he pressed his lips together, a nervous habit he’d never quite outgrown. His hair was neatly parted, and his suit fit him perfectly, accentuating the small changes time had brought to him. Somehow, he looked even better than you remembered—or maybe it was simply because you’d missed him more than you’d realized.

“Jake,” you murmured, almost as if testing his name again, letting it fill the space between you both. “I really missed you too.”

At your words, Jake’s face lit up, his cheeks lifting with a smile he couldn’t contain, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, but when he turned back, his grin only grew wider as he saw your own smile mirroring his.

“Then… would you let me stay the night?” he asked softly, his voice hopeful, though almost immediately he seemed to second-guess himself. His smile faltered as he began to backpedal, a nervous laugh escaping. “Or, if that’s too much, we could just sit outside, or… in my car? Just to talk, to catch up—or maybe just to let me finally say all these things I’ve kept hidden.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, finding his nervous rambling unexpectedly endearing. It was hard to remember the last time you’d seen Jake like this—unsure, almost shy. Without another word, you reached out and grabbed his arm, gently tugging him inside.

“You can stay,” you said, a warmth in your voice that eased the lingering tension in the air.

Jake blinked in surprise, his nervous expression melting into something more tender as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your home wrapped around him, but it was the simple presence of you that truly eased him. He hadn’t realized how much he'd longed for this—just to be near you again.

As he looked at you, a quiet realization washed over him, clear and undeniable. He wasn’t just here because he needed to be; he was here because he wanted to be.

Wherever you were, that was where he wanted to be too.

‘💬’ ─── may active soph come back after this one 😖!

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[lineffability]

The Serpent Files 🐍

chapters: 5/5 rating: M/E wordcount: 13.9k au: human, the magnus archives

summary: Aziraphale works as the head archivist at Eden Institute. Crowley has been supplying them with potentially cursed artifacts over the years -- until he himself gets entangled in a case that turns him from associate to client...

[ art credit and support credit and 1000 hugs to: @chernozemm my beloved ]

start reading:

“Ouroboros. Yes. The introductory statement is meant to be concise, though, akin to a title. You can describe the necklace in detail in your statement, Crowley. Also, I need you to state your name. It occurs to me I don't actually know it. I mean. I'm not saying I want to know your full name, or anything. Just, all these years– erm. You'd have to state it anyway. For formality's sake. We have a system.”

“Sure. So. Name's Crowley.”

“I… know that part. [sighs] Full names, please, throughout.”

“Ah. Anthony J Crowley.”

“I said full names, please. What's the J stand for?”

“Erm. Uh. Just a J, really. Thought it added a certain gravitas, y’know, flair. Je ne sais quoi. Makes people treat you serious, a J like that.”

“Uh. Alright. Well. Anthony J. Crowley, then. I suppose. Seriously? [clears throat] So. Please start from the beginning.”

“Mmmmhhhh wellll. I’ve been coming to Eden for, what, now, six years maybe?”

“I believe so. Yes.”

“Anyway, not like I go here often. We’ve met a handful of times, you and me, maybe nine, ten? I mean, it was ten times. I know. Uh. Not like I counted or anything. Just, coming here, it stays with you a bit, doesn’t it? All that occult shit. Which is why I come here, of course. I’m – what should I call it? A… supplier. Of sorts. I work with – this is confidential, right?”

“Yes. Internal use only. We don’t give out those files. Your words are safe with me. Erm. Us.”

“Good. Right. I work with the Doomsday Group. Can’t really talk about it much, but you’ve heard of them. Shady stuff, crime, theft, trade, religious artifacts, apocalyptic jazz, all that. Supernatural stuff, too, sometimes. Or claimed supernatural. You know I don’t believe in all that. Well. Didn’t. I didn’t believe in it. Now… uh, anyway. Sometimes we get those weird artifacts, right, apparently cursed, so I bring them to you, to, to check, or verify, or call bullshit. Or to lock them away, or whatever you do with them when you buy them off our lot. That’s how we met. Best part of this shit job, really, if I’m being honest. I didn’t ask to be– hm. Wish I could just– ngh. Confidential, right? Wish I could just be done with them. Run off. Can’t, though. But erm. Forget I said that, alright? Please.”

[pause] “You're rambling a bit, de- Crowley. Or should I, should I call you Anthony now?”

“Hell no. I mean – Crowley's fine. You've called me Crowley for years, haven't you? What, now you don't like it?”

“No, no, I do in fact quite – well, for propriety’s sake, the official documentation, I thought – nevermind. So, Crowley, while the background information on your…job is reasonable, might I politely remind you why you’re here? Please talk less about our personal relationship, or at least only insofar as it pertains to the case, and more about what happened to you since… since you put on that necklace.”

“Right. Righty-oh. S’ just, never been in this room before. The tape recorder, all that. I’ve only ever been here as a sort of… co-worker? Nah. You’re not my co-worker, you’re better than that. As a tradesman. So to be here as a client , it feels… surreal.”

“That is understandable. I trust you will muddle through, though.”

“Hey – remember the first thing I said when I came here? Today, I mean.”

[continue reading]

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 4

summary: Tensions rise more than ever before as you, Sergeant Hunter, and the rest of Clone Force 99 take action.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 9.769k

chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5

chapter 4 ⟹

You triple checked the fastening on your holster before you let out a soft sigh and moved the skirt of your dress to conceal it. There was an invisible burn on the skin of your thigh that had been left behind by another touch days ago, and it continued to remind you of its lovely ache even now. You had half a mind to let the holster unfasten itself again, but your rationality won that battle time and time again.

The room would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the dim lights illuminating the space of your suite. Your eyes found the chrono and you raised your brow at how early it was. At least it would still be the same person greeting you outside your doors.

You kept a comfortable shawl around your shoulders as you approached the doors and let them slide open. The sergeant tensed as he spun around to face you, a careful hand set over his holster before his helmet straightened in realization. He relaxed as his visor gave you a quick once-over.

“Senator.” Hunter’s tone failed to hide his concern, his voice sending a sweet shockwave of comfort through your tired body. “I thought I heard some movement in there.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “So much for trying to stay quiet.”

Hunter huffed, though the exhale was drawn out into a longer breath. “Having trouble sleeping again?”

You tightened your lips as your gaze fell from his visor. Your shoulders lifted in a small shrug before you answered. “Sleep just feels secondary to everything else at the moment.”

Hunter lifted his arms from his sides to remove his helmet. Your gaze found his own as his brown eyes, as vulnerable and observant as ever, sparkled at you. “I understand.”

The small smile that stretched across your lips was genuine. “I know.” The two of you stared at one another for much too long before you glanced at your room over your shoulder. “I’ve been working on the plans for tonight’s mission, if you want to get an early look.”

Hunter’s brow raised. “The perks of having the last watch, huh?” You laughed and shook your head, leading him inside the room. “If Tech hears about this…”

You shot him an amused look as the doors to your room closed behind him. “None of them will hear about this, unless you’ve been enjoying all their teasing these past few days.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I wish I could say I wasn’t used to it.”

You had to force out a chuckle when the words struck you with an unexpected pang of jealousy. Did the sergeant often grow so close to those he served that he would be used to such teasing from his squad? You hushed your exhausted mind’s overthinking and focused on the holotable in front of you. “Here’s the village we’ll be protecting tonight.”

Hunter tightened his grasp on the helmet tucked underneath his arm as the other rested upon the edge of the holotable. “This is the one Tech identified?”

You nodded at him. “It’s pretty far from the capitol. We can make it on foot, but it could take a while.”

Hunter’s gaze slid over to you for a moment. You could have gasped at how handsome he looked with the blue light of the holo illuminating his face, highlighting the shadows around his chiseled face. “Shouldn’t be a problem for us.”

You turned to face the holomap again before you could get more flustered. “Great. We should leave before daylight’s completely gone. It’s more than likely they’ll attack right at nightfall.”

Hunter nodded in your periphery. “Echo’s been working on finding a good exit, unless you already had one in mind.”

You smiled. “I’d appreciate his insight on that. That’s the last piece we really need.”

Hunter took a deep breath, his jaw circling before he spoke. “I figure Wrecker and I will be teaming up out there to identify any explosives. I can sense most of them, and he could disarm them in his sleep.” You giggled at that. “We’ll have Crosshair positioned up high as the lookout.”

The sergeant’s eyes glazed over with worry as he paused in consideration.

“I’d prefer Tech to be monitoring comms somewhere near him. He said his ankle’s better, but I’m not convinced that it’s ready for all this action.” You couldn’t help smiling at the concern he showed for his squadmate. “Echo will be on foot ready to intercept them or cause a diversion. As for you, Senator…”

Hunter paused again, the corner of his mouth raising before he went on.

“Well, what do you want to do?”

You crossed your arms and returned his look. “I think it’s most sensible for me to pair up with Echo.”

“I’d say the same.” Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “But is that what you want to do?”

You hadn’t realized the sergeant could be this bold, especially so early in the morning—but the upcoming fight wasn’t the only storm that had been brewing ever since the welcome banquet. Your gaze remained in his as you responded. “What I want doesn’t matter. Only the safety of your squad and my people does.” You nodded before lowering your head. “That’s why we have to take the sensible approach.”

Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “My squad isn’t really used to the ‘sensible approach,’ Senator.” He took a step closer and reached his free hand towards you. The touch that had been haunting you for days found your chin, gently tilting your head back up so that your eyes met his again. You parted your lips in awe of him as he went on. “And trust me, you don’t have to sacrifice all your wants for your people’s needs.” He nodded. “You can still fulfill both.”

Your gaze searched his as you sat in the heavy silence. Your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you broke it. “Are we still talking about the plan, Sergeant?”

Hunter gave you a once-over that could have made you melt if you weren’t so well-versed in composure. “If that’s what you want, Senator.”

An unprecedented warmth blazed over you from head-to-toe as you uncrossed your arms and stared at him. Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears, as you slowly drew closer to him out of instinct. He didn’t move, instead letting you be the one in control of the situation. It only made you want him more.

But your nose couldn’t even brush his before your gaze fell to the hand of his that still held your chin. You lifted your hands to gently wrap around his wrist, lowering his hand and holding it politely between both of yours. With a deep breath, you spoke in a quiet yet honest voice. “What I want is to continue protecting those I care about.”

The hand on top of his gave it a small pat as you gained the faith to meet his gaze again. It was hard to read the emotions you found there, but there was an undeniable sparkle that hadn’t been there before. He had understood everything about you up to that point, and you needed him to continue doing so.

“I need that above all else.”

And there it was, the usual furrow in his brow that proved he was somehow inside your mind, understanding each motivation behind whatever you did. There we no doubt he saw it, too, the truth of what would happen if this storm broke. Any path that could potentially lead him to desertion wasn’t one you were willing to take, not with the danger that would pose to him—and his squad.

Hunter nodded as dutifully as ever. “I understand.” The lack of disappointment in his voice, exchanged for fondness, made the pill much easier to swallow.

You managed a smile for him. “Of course you do.”

Hunter returned your smile with a sweet huff. You freed his hand as your arms returned to your sides. He was back to his usual cadence as he spoke again. “I didn’t realize you were so passionate about mission plans, Senator.”

Your ears burned, but you didn’t fight the way your smile grew in amusement at his words. “I’m very passionate about a lot of things, Sergeant.” You gave yourself a moment to enjoy the warm flush that spread across his cheeks before you looked at the holomap again. “So, I’ll position myself with Echo.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.” Hunter continued to wear a fond smile even as he looked upon the holographic plans. “Usually, it’s him and Tech, but… not with Tech’s ankle.”

You raised a curious brow. “Is Crosshair always alone, then?”

Hunter hummed. “He likes it that way.” His gaze slid over to you. “Wrecker doesn’t do heights, Echo can’t stay still, and Tech doesn’t really do silence.”

Your lips spread wide in an amused smile. “And you, Sergeant?”

Hunter shrugged, raising his chin as he began to return your smile. “I’m a man of action, Senator.”

You giggled, the sound more giddy than you had hoped it would be, and glanced down at your feet for a moment. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“I’m not surprised.” You lifted your head up to face him again, though he had already focused back on the dimly lit plans. The hint of a smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth even as he changed the subject. “I can’t imagine wearing our armor will be an option with all this secrecy.”

“Actually, you can wear it, and you should.” Hunter’s head snapped towards you at that. “I have a solution.”

Hunter tilted his head. “What kind of a solution?”

“A simple one.” You shrugged him off and adjusted the wrap that was still sitting on your shoulders. “You’ll see it later tonight.”

Hunter set his free hand on his hip. “A surprise, huh?”

The material of the wrap began to gently slide off your shoulders, and you let it pool at your elbows. “You’ll find that I’m full of them.”

It was hard to miss Hunter’s gaze flickering over you at the quick action, and even harder to miss the tightening of his jaw as he turned back to the holotable one more time. He paused to take a deep breath before speaking again. “Well, I should get back out there before anyone notices I’m gone.”

You nodded and considered teasing him, but let it go for now. “Right.”

Hunter returned your nod, and you deactivated the holotable as he turned towards the doors. He only made it a few steps before the internal battle you were having with yourself decided on a victor.

“Sergeant?”

Hunter stopped in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to face you again without hesitation.

You smiled at him once more. “Thank you.”

His earnest brow furrowed together. “For what, Senator?”

“For understanding.” Your gaze gave him the same once-over he had given you earlier. “All of it.”

Hunter nodded dutifully, but the action couldn’t fully hide the hard swallow he took. “It’s not easy being a leader.” He gestured with his head to the doors behind him. “I’m always here if you want to talk.”

You beamed and echoed your own words from before. “I know.”

Hunter offered one last small smile before he turned back to the doors, sliding his helmet on as they opened for him. You watched him go until the doors hid him from sight once again. With a deep exhale, you ran your hand along your forehead, resisting the burning ache in your chest that demanded you bring him back in and finish whatever he was going to let you start.

This fight was taking an entirely different type of strength from you, and it wasn’t something you could have ever trained yourself for.

From there, the rest of the day proceeded as usual, with you attending diplomatic meetings while Clone Force 99 continued to sweep the perimeter—and no doubt did whatever smaller tasks they had to for the mission that night. You were still focused on your attempts to reach a peaceful compromise through diplomacy, even if you knew the effort was in vain. You weren’t one to give up easily.

But there was nothing like exchanging your gown for your tactical clothes. You could breathe easier as you laced up your boots and secured your holster over the material on your thigh rather than vice versa. Having better access to your blaster and knife provided you with a security you hadn’t felt since you landed onworld—at least, when you weren’t in the presence of Clone Force 99.

After triple checking you had everything ready for yourself and for the squad, you approached the doors. They opened, and immediately, Tech turned to face you, looking up from his datapad as he did so.

“Tech, hail the squad.” You nodded at him with a small smile. “It’s time we get ready to go.”

Tech returned your nod. “Yes, Senator.” He then shifted away to speak into the comms. “Hunter, the senator is ready for us.”

“Great.” You had to bite your cheek to keep your smile from growing at the sound of Hunter’s voice. “Let’s move out, boys.”

You heard the sound of some of their doors opening, but Tech spoke before you could truly focus on it. “I have to say, Senator, that was very punctual. The calculations I made for how much time you would require clearly underestimated you.” He set his datapad on his belt and tilted his helmet. “My apologies.”

You let out a soft laugh and set a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to apologize, Tech. I appreciate you keeping us on schedule.”

Tech’s eyes brightened at your praise before he nodded once more. You lowered your hand and looked to the side, where your gaze unsurprisingly connected with Hunter’s visor.

He had stopped in his tracks, and though his helmet barely moved, you could still feel the heat of his stare observing your new look. You resisted the urge to break your gaze even as your ears started to burn. The sergeant only came to his senses when Wrecker knocked his shoulder against Hunter’s as he passed him by. You chuckled as you watched Hunter give his helmet a few small shakes before closing the distance over to you.

You gestured with your head to the suite behind you as you faced the group. “Let’s make this quick.”

They all nodded, giving you the freedom to turn around and lead them inside. You reached for the pile you had made on the table and faced them once again.

“Here.” You began to distribute the black fabric to each of them, recalling the order in which you had stacked their sizes. “You’ll need these.”

“What are they?” Echo was the first one to ask.

“Hooded ponchos.” The last one you had to hand out was Hunter’s, and his gloved hands brushed yours as he took it. You somehow pushed down the rush of warmth the small moment brought you. “These will help to keep your armor concealed, including your helmets.”

“Cool,” Wrecker breathed as he slid it on over his broad figure. “Do you have one too, Senator?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Kind of.”

There was no missing the smile in Hunter’s modulated voice as he spoke next. “What a nice surprise.”

You flashed him a smile of your own. “I’m full of them.” You caught the fond tilt of Hunter’s helmet before you began to walk over to the holotable. “We’ll make the briefing quick so we can stay on schedule.”

“That would be wise,” Tech chimed in, even as he finished adjusting the poncho on his lean frame. Crosshair fixed Tech’s hood when it failed to make it over the antenna on his helmet.

“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of research and preparation on your own, which will help this go even faster.” You illuminated the display, which you had since added red markers to. Each marker indicated a person’s designated position, following what you and Hunter had discussed that morning. “Sergeant Hunter and Wrecker will be searching for any explosives they may have planted.”

“Oh, yeah!” Wrecker cheered.

“To disarm them,” Hunter reminded him.

“Oh.” Wrecker attempted to shrug off his disappointment. “Yeah.”

“Echo and I will be covering for them on the ground.” You pointed out your and Echo’s entry markers. Echo’s gaze flashed with surprise, but he nodded dutifully nonetheless. “Crosshair, we need you to keep watch up here and be ready to lay down additional cover.” Crosshair looked pleased at that, crossing his arms as he nodded. “And Tech, you’ll be sticking with Crosshair to monitor comms and help him analyze the situation from a distance.”

Tech’s eyes widened behind his goggles as he lifted a finger. “I typically complete those kinds of calculations and functions on the ground as well, Senator, if you would like me to join you and Echo for additional—.”

Hunter’s voice was low as he cut him off. “Not happening.” His visor looked pointedly at Tech’s ankle. “Running around on that injury in the dark is asking for trouble. You need to heal.”

Tech sighed. “I have told you, Hunter, that the ligaments in my ankle are much stronger now. I am more than capable of navigating this terrain without an issue.”

“Still.” Hunter lifted his helmet from his head to convey his severity to Tech. “You’re staying with Crosshair this time. That’s an order.”

Tech let out an annoyed exhale, but ultimately nodded. Crosshair snickered and rocked his shoulder against Tech’s as he spoke. “Lucky me.”

Hunter’s gaze slid over to you, no doubt catching the small smile you were wearing at the sight of his protectiveness for his squad. “You were saying, Senator?”

You shrugged. “That’s really it. Otherwise, just remember to keep your blasters on stun. The less injuries, the better.”

Hunter reached for something on his belt and handed it to you. “Here’s one of our extra comms.” He nodded as he closed your fingers around it. “In case you get separated.”

You returned his nod. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Hunter was beaming, despite the worry that swam in the depths of his gaze. You wished you could reassure him, but a new thought came to mind, and you had to focus on your audience. “Echo, how did getting an exit go?”

“Well, Senator, I definitely found one.” Echo removed his helmet, revealing his furrowed brow as he did so. “But you’re not gonna like it.” His gaze found Hunter as his voice lowered. “Neither are you.”

You and Hunter responded at the same time. “Why?”

Echo exhaled and walked over to an armoire that was meant to hold outerwear jackets. His fingers tested the edges until he pressed down, and the armoire slowly turned to reveal a dark, stone-walled corridor. Your jaw dropped, and when you stole a glance at Hunter, you saw his jaw tensed and his eyes widened to double their usual size.

There were a thousand questions running through your mind, but you made yourself pick the one that would most benefit the situation at hand. “Where does it lead to?”

Echo gestured with his head to the nearest viewport. “The outside, behind some decorative flora.”

You offered him an impressed raise of your brow. “How did you find it?”

Hunter wasn’t as eager. “And why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I was able to access the schematics.” Echo lifted his right arm. “I wanted to make sure it actually existed before I said anything.” Echo paused to look into the corridor. “Now we know it’s real.”

You nodded at him. “This is perfect, Echo.”

“Perfect?” Hunter was appalled when you turned to meet his gaze. “Senator, this gives them easy access to your private quarters. What if they use it to—.”

“Relax, Sarge.” Crosshair’s cool tone contrasted greatly against Hunter’s hot frustration and concern. “Nothing’s happened to her yet.”

“And now we know about it, like Echo said,” Wrecker added. “We can keep an extra eye out.”

“Exactly.” You lifted your brow at Hunter. “It’s just as much our advantage as it is theirs. Now we can come and go for these missions as we please.”

Tech was the last one to chime in. “Your concern is unwarranted.”

Hunter gave the group one last disbelieving look before he sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” It wasn’t hard to see the gears of his mind turning as he went on. “Just know we’ll have to start doubling up our watch shifts. One at the doors, and one wherever this leads.”

Echo was the voice of reason. “If that’s what the senator wants.”

You had to resist laughing as you looked at Hunter again. His eyes pleaded with you, and you weren’t strong enough to deny him. It was a well-founded concern that made your chest warm. “Whatever puts you at ease, Sergeant. For now…” you turned to Echo and nodded, “we have to get going.”

“That is correct.” Tech looked down at his datapad, which no doubt displayed a chrono for him. “We will be off schedule if we delay any longer.”

You turned off the holotable and walked over to where your own hood and half-mask awaited you. “Echo,” you set both items in place, “care to lead the way?”

Echo nodded, setting his helmet back over his head and covering it with his hood. You looked over to see Hunter doing the same, though you were still able to catch his worried eye before it disappeared from view. You were the first to follow Echo inside, with the other four bringing up the rear. It was Tech who pressed whatever Echo had to close the armoire’s entrance, and the group all activated their torches to light up the corridor.

“It looks like this place hasn’t been touched for years,” Echo commented as you inhaled the stale air and passed plenty of abandoned cobwebs.

“I wonder why it exists,” you mused.

“It was likely installed by a previous ruler or diplomat who occupied the suite you’re currently residing in,” Tech theorized, unable to help himself. “This would have been a critical means of escape in the event of an emergency or threat to their life, which is quite often the case for people in power.”

“Trust me, I get it,” you murmured.

There was a hand on your back, but it was familiar enough to keep you from reacting to it. You looked over to see Hunter at your side, his helmet tilted. You offered him a reassuring nod, along with a smile you couldn’t resist. He returned the nod and lowered his hand, taking his previous place a few steps behind you.

After a few stairs and a turn around a dark corner, the group came upon the exterior door. It took a few seconds for Echo to find the activation, and once he did, the door slid open the same way the armoire had. He stepped out first and cleared the area before inviting you and the squad to do the same.

“You weren’t lying, Echo.” You barely dodged the branches of a hedge as he guided your way around the flora. “This is right in the middle of the gardens.”

Hunter made his way closer to the front of the group. “It’s good at concealing the entrance.”

“It is.” Echo agreed with the sergeant before turning his helmet to you. “You’re gonna have to lead from here, Senator.”

You nodded. “All right, everyone. Get ready for a trek.”

You then ran forward, blending in with the darkness of the night thanks to your wardrobe. The squad followed at your heels, with everyone maintaining the silence as you traversed your way through the forests of Eirus. Only the sounds of your feet treading upon the foliage and the chirping of nightlife could be heard—at least, for most of you. You weren’t sure what else Hunter was, or could be, picking up on.

You were nearly there when Hunter set a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you. His other hand was raised in a fist, which signaled the rest of the squad to pause as well. You watched as Hunter bent low to the ground and picked up some of the dirt, sifting it between his gloved fingers.

Hunter’s voice was low when he spoke. “They’ve been through here.” He stood back up to his full height and faced the squad. “Crosshair, head up.” Hunter pointed to a nearby tree, and Crosshair nodded back he shouldered his rifle and began to climb. “Tech, stay low.”

Tech nodded and drew his blaster as he crept close to the trunk of the tree Crosshair was climbing. Hunter released a gentle breath as he turned to you and Echo, though his visor lingered on you.

“We’ll split up here. I can’t sense much yet, but we’ll stay in touch.” Hunter gestured to his helmet.

“Sounds good.” You nodded, but within your chest, a feeling of dread crept up at the idea of separating. “You two stay safe, okay?” You forced the feeling away by focusing on Wrecker. “Sorry, Wrecker, but I don’t want to see any explosions.”

Wrecker huffed. “This one time, Senator, I’ll agree with ya’.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”

Hunter gestured with his helmet to Wrecker. “What he said.”

You smiled and nodded once more, turning to face Echo. Yet there was a familiar hand that found yours in the dark, his fingers brushing yours with a gentle squeeze before he pushed ahead into the foliage. You stared after Hunter in awe for a moment, your chest warming with an entirely different feeling as you focused on Echo.

The ARC trooper nodded at you. “Ready, Senator?”

You raised your blaster with a small smile. “After you, Echo.”

He tilted his helmet in a substitution for a smile before running ahead. You followed him closely, using the foliage for cover as you went. You were surprised when the silence between the two of you was broken by Echo, whose tone was as eager as you had ever heard it. “So… you and Hunter, huh?”

Your eyes widened as you flashed him a surprised look. “What?” You hoped you sounded as surprised as you felt, and that the burning of your ears was the only thing giving you away.

Echo chuckled. “I’m only kidding, Senator.” His helmet gave you a quick glance. “But I have to say, he’s really taken a liking to you.”

The warmth was impossible to fight, even if you were able to keep your face straight. “Is that so?” Echo paused to nod at you before he kept going. You followed, but your curiosity couldn’t contain itself. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, even though I’m still fairly new to the squad, it's always been clear that politicians are not Hunter’s specialty. But the way he acts around you?” He shook his helmet in a genuine kind of disbelief. “It’s something I’ve never seen before.”

You couldn’t fight the smile any longer, but you at least aimed it towards your feet as you watched them traverse the terrain. “Really? That surprises me.”

“I mean, I’m surprised he’s even letting me be the one to pair up with you on this mission.” Echo stopped, encouraging you to do the same as the two of you sat along the edge of the foliage. “He’s very, very insistent about your safety.”

You beamed and hoped it was hidden behind the mask that covered the lower half of your face. “I feel the same way about his safety, and that of the rest of your squad.” You took a deep breath as your worries started to return. “You’re all risking a lot for me.”

Echo tilted his helmet at you. “That’s what we do, Senator. We know the risks.” He huffed. “And this squad loves them.”

You laughed softly and shook your head. “You have a wonderful squad, Echo. You’re very fortunate.”

“I am.” Echo reached forward to set his hand on your shoulder. “But as far as I’m concerned, it’s your squad right now, too.” His tone became even more lighthearted as he went on. “Hunter’s not the only one you’ve won over.”

You grinned at him, despite the fact he couldn’t see it beneath your mask. “Thank you, Echo. Truly. That’s very kind of you.” He nodded and lowered his hand. With a deep breath, you gestured with your head towards the outskirts of the nearby village. “With all that being said, what’s your play?”

Echo’s visor scanned the border. “Usually, I wait for one of two things. First, any suspicious movement along the edges.” He pointed towards the buildings closest to you. “Second, anything reported by the squad.”

“And if it’s quiet for a while?”

Echo lifted a hand to his helmet. “I check in.” He pressed down. “Hunter, we’re in position. How are things going so far?”

“They look busy,” Crosshair’s voice spoke into the earpiece you’d attached to the comm Hunter had given you. “Not sure if it’s because they’re finding things or if they’re still looking.”

“According to the patterns of the other attacks, it is likely there will be at least three explosives planted throughout the village,” Tech informed the group. “Hunter is aware of this, and they are seeking out these three. Given that this is a smaller village, however, there may be less.”

“Or more,” you breathed in worry, but didn’t activate the comm.

“More?” Echo’s visor stared at you.

“It could be a part of their strategy.” You furrowed your brow as the pieces started to come together. “A more brutal attack on a small village like this would expedite the people’s desire to get a resolution.”

“And make them more desperate.” Echo finished the thought for you. He cursed and activated his comm again. “Hunter, Wrecker, be on the lookout for more than three.”

“More?” Tech repeated the word just as Echo had before.

You chimed in before Tech could go on. “This could be their play. Attacking a small village like this with more brutality would get the people of Eirus to do whatever it takes to make these attacks stop.”

“The senator’s right.” Your heart dropped into your stomach at the haunted sound of Hunter’s voice. “Echo, Senator, I hope you two are good at disarming explosives. Wrecker and I are gonna need some backup.”

You and Echo shared a tense look, and Echo was the one bold enough to ask the question you were both thinking of. “How many are there?”

“Too many. It’s a hell of a lot more than three.”

You closed your eyes and composed yourself with a breath. You had faced odds much higher than this during your freedom fighting days, but with all those same allies now working against you, the weight of it all was much heavier. “We’ll start searching on the eastern half,” Echo assured Hunter.

“Be careful.”

The pure concern in Hunter’s tone wasn’t lost through the comms. You lifted yours to your mask. “You too.”

“How touching.” Crosshair’s tone was as cool as ever as he spoke once again. “But you two better get a move on, Echo. You’ve got hostiles inbound.”

“Already?” Echo sighed and readied his blaster. You did the same. “Great.”

“I hope you’re ready for some action, Echo.” You kept your tone light as you tilted your head at him.

Echo huffed and waved his blaster around. “Let’s just hope I’m not rusty after this little break of ours.”

You chuckled and let him lead the way. While you might have been a freedom fighter, Echo was an ARC trooper of the Republic, and those were credentials you could never surpass. He stuck to the shadows, using your dark clothing to your advantage, and kept moving until he could spot the hostiles Crosshair had pointed out. They weren’t anyone you could recognize, at least not from this distance.

Echo let out a breath. “I know we’re the diversion, but… we need a diversion.”

You wasted no time leaning down to the dirt to grab a stone and throwing it in the opposite direction of where you were headed. It made impact with the side of a building, catching the hostiles’ attention as they jogged off in that direction.

Echo’s visor gave you an incredulous look. “How did you know that would work?”

You shrugged. “Not all these people are trained fighters. They’ll get jumpy at any sound they hear.” You gestured with your blaster to the way ahead. “Come on.”

You and Echo ran forward, finally reaching the edge of the village. Your search for explosives began on the outermost exteriors of the sparse village’s infrastructure, and it came up fruitless until you got to your fourth building. “Senator,” Echo announced, his voice a hushed whisper. “We’ve got one.”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the circular explosive. It had no indication of when it would detonate, and that meant only one thing. “They have to be activated.”

Echo’s visor found your gaze again. “We have no idea when they’re gonna be set off.”

You lifted the comm to your mask again. “Tech, do you have any data on what time the past attacks have taken place?”

“I do.” Tech was quick to answer, and even quicker to provide said data. “The times have been rather inconsistent, but… they do follow an odd pattern.”

“What kind of pattern?” Echo questioned.

“They always take place at the top of the hour.” Your blood started to roar in your ears. “Strategically speaking, that’s not very sound.”

You found your voice again. “What time is it now?”

“Nine minutes until the hour.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You and Echo shared a look that didn’t need expressions to be understood. Echo lifted his hand to his helmet. “Hunter, Wrecker, are you hearing this?”

“Affirmative.” Hunter somehow sounded calm and worried at the same time. He projected a comfort that was nothing short of admirable. “Wrecker’s already disarmed four of them on our side. It shouldn’t be long before we can help you two out.” You exhaled an anxious breath. “Crosshair, keep an eye on those hostiles. We might need you to make some stun shots for us.”

“I read you loud and clear.” Crosshair sounded enthusiastic—at least, as much as he possibly could.

“All right, Senator, I can disarm these.” Echo got right down to business. “I may not be as good as Wrecker, but I’ve got the tools for it.” He raised his right arm.

You nodded. “Be careful, Echo. I’ll lay down cover and keep searching.”

Echo returned your nod before he attended to the first explosive. You stayed close, but kept your blaster raised and studied the closest buildings you could for more. There were none you could see, and you didn’t know whether that relieved you or worried you.

It wasn’t long before Echo joined you again. “That’s one down,” he assured you. “Have you seen any others?”

“Not yet.” You grimaced as you turned a corner. “Assuming I haven’t missed any.”

“Trust your eyes, Senator.” Echo’s encouragement was a comfort you needed. “We don’t have time to double check.”

You nodded, focusing back on your surroundings. It was a delicate balance of staying quiet, moving fast, and checking every single thing your eyes touched—all while trying to evade enemies you couldn’t even see. Echo found a second, and while he disarmed that, you heard Crosshair over the comms again.

“Hunter, Wrecker, watch your six. Hostiles are about to round the corner.”

You bit your cheek in worry for them. The last thing you wanted was to have to actually stun anyone. It would be a whole lot more covert if you and the squad were able to get in and leave without any signs of detection, and an unconscious fighter would be the least helpful way to achieve that.

“Five minutes,” Tech warned.

Your chest was burning at the fast pace of your heartbeat as Echo finished disarming. You pushed onward, soon finding a third to Echo to work on. Your voice was a whisper as you spoke to the ARC trooper. “Where the hell did they get all these explosives from?”

“If the Separatists are backing them, then I’d expect they’d have a pretty endless supply.” Echo managed to answer even as he attended to the explosive.

You shook your head. “That’s who they really want in control of our homeworld.” The thought alone made you sick. “People who give them the resources to destroy our villages.”

“Sometimes, people lose sight of what they’re actually fighting for.” Echo provided the wise words as he finished. “It’ll never be enough for them.” He gestured with his helmet to the way ahead. “Let’s keep moving.”

You quickened your pace even as you remained attentive to every single thing you passed. You heard nothing more from Hunter and Wrecker, which hopefully meant that they averted the hostiles on their own. Echo was working on his fourth when you heard footsteps. Your grip around your blaster tightened. “Echo, we’re about to have some company.”

He lifted his free hand to the side of his helmet. “Crosshair—.”

He was too late. Two figures turned the corner, and you hesitated on the trigger for only a moment. It was the right call.

Hunter and Wrecker lowered their blasters before they jogged over to you. “We finally caught up to you,” Hunter said, his voice breathless as he looked between you and Echo. “How’d it go?”

“Assuming you searched everywhere else,” Echo started, “then this is the last one.”

“Three minutes.” Tech’s voice was as even as ever as he delivered the update. “At this time, I would recommend retreating back to the forest, in the event that there are any you missed.”

“I agree,” Hunter responded. “Echo, once you’re done, we’re heading out.”

“Shouldn’t we do a quick sweep before we go?” You couldn’t help speaking up on behalf of your people. “Respectfully, Sergeant, I don’t want to take the chance that any more of my people are hurt tonight. I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

Hunter’s shoulders rose and fell in consideration, and he tilted his helmet before he responded. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll stay with you.” He looked at Echo as the ARC trooper finished with the last explosive. “Echo, Wrecker, head back to cover. The senator and I will be right behind you.”

You would have smiled if the stakes weren’t so high. Wrecker and Echo shared a look before they nodded, with Echo’s hand patting your shoulder as he and Wrecker headed for the trees. You and Hunter began to backtrack the way you came as you offered him a quick glance. “Are you sensing anything?”

“Not yet.” Hunter’s steps began to slow. “At least, not explosives.” He began to turn his helmet over his shoulder. You followed the movement, holding tight to your blaster—but as you did so, you spotted something else.

It only took a split second for you to raise your blaster over Hunter’s shoulder and pull the trigger. One of the attackers hit the ground as you stunned them, causing Hunter’s helmet to whip in that direction. He knew exactly where to aim as he stunned the other one he had sensed behind him.

Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet. “We’ve been spotted. Tech, monitor comms. Until then, Plan Double Zero.”

You furrowed your brow. “What does that entail?”

Hunter kept his voice low as the two of you began to pick up your pace once again. “Radio silence. I’m not taking the chance that we’re gonna be heard.” You nodded at that, allowing him to go on. “We’ll make contact once we know it’s safe.”

Just as you were about to turn your last corner, a shot rang out from that direction. You and Hunter both rolled to evade their fire, making it behind the cover of a building as you prepared to retaliate. Hunter’s body was shielding you from the direction of their fire, but they still had the open ground. He emerged a few times to shoot, but he hadn’t yet landed any shots.

“We’re pinned down.” Hunter somehow continued to sound calm even as he presented the dire reality of your situation. It began to make more sense as he reached for something on his belt. “I have an idea. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can, and you shoot if you see anyone in your path. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Hunter returned your nod and faced the corner of the building again. He then pressed the button on the item in his hand and rolled it along the ground. It made a sound akin to that of a small explosion, and you saw the smoke that started to cloud the area just before Hunter gave the order. “Run!”

You both rose from your feet at the same time, and you kept him in front of you as you ran. The smoke bomb made it hard to see where you were going, but Hunter guided your path, the circles of his stun shots illuminating the space even more as he finally took down the hostiles in your path. For a moment, you could breathe in relief.

Then, you saw something else flashing in the smoke, a light that only got more and more rapid.

“Sergeant!” You cried out, causing his helmet to whip around. “We didn’t get them all!”

His visor stopped on something behind you, and he lunged in your direction. Hunter’s arms wrapped around you as he swung you in front of him and acted as your shield. All you could hear was a single blaster shot ringing out before the explosion dominated every other sense.

You hadn’t even remembered flying through the air or hitting the ground. The next thing you knew, there were two hands on the side of your face, which was no longer covered by your mask. You blinked your eyes open as best as you could, though the smoke and ash made them burn. You inhaled and instantly began to cough.

That’s when the helmet was placed over your head. The filter inside of it facilitated your breathing, and in just a few long seconds, you were able to get a grip on your senses once again. You sat up on your elbows as the hands that were on your face moved to your shoulders, and even though it was quite the adjustment getting used to the view through the sergeant’s visor, you could see Hunter kneeling over you.

“There you go.” Hunter’s worried eyes were giving you a once-over. “Are you okay?”

You let out a groan as you sat up more. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rolled your neck. “Just winded.”

Hunter nodded in relief. “Good.”

You smiled, believing him to be in the same condition as you, but that quickly faded when his eyelids began to flutter. Your brow furrowed as you snapped back into action, your hands now finding his shoulders as you assessed him. “Sergeant? What is it?”

You didn’t receive an answer. Hunter’s head hung low before he keeled over, landing on his side. Your heart leaped into your throat as you rose to your knees and held the side of his face.

“Hunter? Hunter?!” You tapped his cheek, but he didn’t wake. You cursed and observed him more closely, and that’s all it took to notice the scarlet on his left side.

It was then that you remembered the blaster shot you had heard before the blast. The shot was what Hunter was actually protecting you from, and part of it had clipped him badly enough to start bleeding him out.

You swallowed down a panicked gasp and leapt into action. The radio silence kept you from calling the squad for help, but you refused to wait for them, anyway. You would do it on your own.

For a moment, you observed where you were. The blast had at least knocked you both closer to the woods, and it was an area that was even more familiar than where you had been before. There was a hidden base from your freedom fighting days on this side of the village’s forest, and if you were lucky, it would still be completely abandoned.

The only challenge would be getting Hunter’s deadweight there.

Stars, give me strength. You rose to your feet and removed Hunter’s helmet from your head, placing it over his own to protect him. You hooked your arms around Hunter’s shoulders and pulled up, grunting as you used all your strength to do so. The adrenaline made you a hell of a lot stronger as you started to drag Hunter away from the heavy smoke and flames.

As you made your way to the secret base, your strength began to wither more and more, but you refused to stop. Hunter had sacrificed himself to save you from both a lethal bolt and an explosion, and you were going to give him that same effort right back. That wound could bleed him out if it wasn’t treated soon, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

You allowed yourself only a few breaks before you finally saw the outline of the old base. Thankfully, it was completely unattended, which likely meant the attackers of this village weren’t any of the fighters you were familiar with. You groaned with each movement as you heaved yourself and Hunter inside the rickety shelter, one that blended in well enough with the surrounding nature to keep the two of you secure for a while.

You propped Hunter up along the farthest wall and removed his pack from his back. Taking his torch and your own, you set them up to illuminate the dark space for you to see. You removed Hunter’s helmet and grimaced at the way his head hung in unconsciousness. Your hand cupped his cheek.

“I wish I could ask your permission, Sergeant,” you spoke to the open air. “But I have to save your life.”

You wasted no more time removing his poncho and the pieces of armor on his upper body, attempting to give yourself better access to his side. Once they were removed, you lifted the top half of his blacks, pulling the material over his head and tossing it aside with the rest. There would have been quite a sight to see if you weren’t so tunnel-visioned on the bleeding wound in his side.

Like any good leader, Hunter had a fully equipped medpac in his pack, and you broke it open to start attending to the wound. Your hands were precise even as they trembled, cleaning the wound and pressing on it to stop the bleeding the best you could. After a few minutes of pressure, you reached for the treatments, disinfecting the wound and coating it in at least three generous layers of bacta. The last touch was a bacta patch that you secured in place with a wrap.

It was only then you exhaled, knowing that your part was done. All you could do now was wait for him to wake.

You calmed your nerves by keeping yourself busy. The contents of Hunter’s pack also included emergency food and water, and you held on to the latter along with a dose of pain medication. It was in the midst of this careful organization that you finally heard Hunter stir.

The sergeant groaned as he attempted to push himself off the wall. You were quick to sit up more and set a hand on his bare shoulder, urging him back against the wall. “Easy, Sergeant.” You met his worried gaze and nodded. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Hunter tried to exhale a relieved breath, but he cut himself off with a tight growl as it tugged on his sensitive wound. “That’s not what I was worried about,” he confessed through gritted teeth.

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” you let the panic of all these events show for only a moment in your trembling voice, “you had a close call.”

Hunter’s gaze softened at you before it lowered to his patched up side. “I’ve had worse.” His brow furrowed as he looked up at you again. “How did we get here?” Hunter’s curious eyes observed your surroundings. “Where even are we?”

“It’s an old base. No one else will know about it.” You raised an eyebrow. “If they did, they’d be making use of it.” You gestured with your head to the entrance somewhere behind you. “I brought you here.”

Hunter’s eyes widened. “By yourself?”

You huffed. “I’m stronger than you think, Sergeant. Remember what I said before?” You ran your thumb over his shoulder. “I’m full of surprises.”

The corners of Hunter’s lips began to rise as he lifted his brow. “You really are, Senator.”

You returned his smile, though it started to fade as you focused on the hand you still had on his bare shoulder. You pulled it away and looked down as shyness overtook you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t ask your permission to… access your wound.”

Hunter’s hand found your chin just as it had earlier that morning, tilting your head up until your gaze met his again. His eyes sparkled at you even in the darkness of the base. “You don’t have to apologize for saving my life.”

You chuckled and raised your brow. “You saved mine first.”

Hunter shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I guess that makes us even.” He lowered his hand from your chin as he attempted to push himself up more.

You watched him with a careful eye before reaching for the water and pain relief. “Here.” You handed them off to him. “You’ll need this.”

Hunter smiled as he took them from you. “Thank you.” He took the medicine and swallowed it down, and you had to look away to fight the way the action flustered you for no good reason. As he set the water aside, he approached a new subject. “Where’s the squad?”

You sighed and shook your head. “Don’t know. We’re still radio silent.”

Hunter’s brow rose. “Still?”

You nodded. “Tech hasn’t said anything. The area must not be secure yet.”

Hunter’s gaze looked beyond you for a moment, no doubt focusing on the entrance to the base. “We have to get back to them.”

He started to sit up again, and you set a hand on his shoulder again. “Not in your condition. You have to rest more.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “They could be knee-deep in combat right now. I can’t let them fight alone.”

You wanted to soften for him, but your concern wouldn’t allow it. “They can handle themselves, and you know that. They would want you to take care of yourself if they knew you were hurt.”

Hunter didn’t let up. “I’m not abandoning my squad.”

You exhaled a curt breath. “You won’t be helping anyone if you rush into a fight in this condition.”

When Hunter gently eased your hand off his shoulder and began to sit up more, you set both your hands firmly upon his chest, moving your body in front of him to act as a wall that kept him from pushing forward more.

Your voice left no room for argument as you gave the order. “You need to rest, Sergeant.”

Hunter’s stare never left yours as he responded. “I can’t rest when I’m this close to you, Senator.”

His words took you aback in a way you hadn’t expected. Your breath caught in your throat as you, too, observed how close the two of you had gotten. Your gaze fell to your hands, watching the way his scarred chest rose and fell in steady breaths underneath your palms. Your right hand was close enough to his heart to feel the way it raced, moving at nearly the same quick pace as your own.

And there it was again, the touch on your chin that urged you to drown in the depths of Hunter’s gaze. Everything shifted as the previous frustration you both held was exchanged for another, one that had been simmering between the two of you from the moment he first kissed your hand on Coruscant.

The invitation was there again. Hunter didn’t move, but he gave you the freedom to. This time, you didn’t weigh yourself down with the what-ifs, as Echo’s words and reassurances from before rang through the back of your mind instead. You moved closer to Hunter until his nose brushed yours, drawing a quiet, anticipatory breath from your lungs.

Even then, Hunter didn’t move. The choice was all yours. And this time, you were going to make the right one.

Your lips slotted over his in a way that felt natural, albeit still quite shy. You tested the waters as you breathed into him once, staying close enough to keep his nose against yours as you pulled away. He had given you the first choice, and you were giving him the second.

You wanted him to want it as badly as you did, and you wanted so much more. Thankfully, he did too.

Hunter’s hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling your mouth back to his with the same desperation and desire that had been forcing deep down inside yourself. The shyness had all but vanished as your lips molded together, moving in perfect sync as your exploration of one another deepened. You raised a hand to the back of his hair as his free hand ran over the back of your leg, encouraging you to take your place upon him.

The moment his tongue pushed through, you lost any last shred of control you had, tightening your grasp on his locks as the fingernails on your other hand grazed over the skin of his chest. His hand on your thigh tightened and drew a pleased sigh from you that you released into him. There wasn’t a chance you were separating from him, not yet—and if you had it your way, not ever.

But Hunter had other ideas. He broke away only to lower his face to your neck, praising the sensitive skin there in a way you had never felt before. Your eyelids fluttered as you fought for some shred of sanity, but you couldn’t keep quiet. Your hand found his upper arm, and you gave it a squeeze to ground yourself as you practically cried out. “Hunter…”

It was the pleased hum against your neck that truly stole your last breath. You couldn’t take another moment apart, no matter how good this felt. The hand in his hair urged him back, and as soon as you had access, your mouth and your tongue were his yet again.

There was no conceiving how long this went on, and it didn’t matter. Nothing did, not as long as you were connected to him in this way. The adrenaline of everything that had happened was creating a dangerous mixture with the affection and desire that had long since been left unaddressed, and it was too addictive for either one of you to ignore.

Until the comm on your belt began to chime.

“Comms are clear,” Tech announced. “So is the area, as far as Crosshair and I can tell.”

You and Hunter broke apart, lips lingering as his mouth kept your upper lip captured in sweet surrender. You shared panting breaths in the air between you as your gazes met one another. It was hard to make sense of anything when all you could feel and taste was him.

But you could still tell Echo’s voice was worried even through the haze of your stolen moment with Hunter. “Does anyone have eyes on Hunter and the senator? Wrecker and I aren’t finding anything.”

The moment was over, and you would both have to face it. You continued to stare at Hunter even as you unclipped the comm from your belt and activated it. “We’re here. We took shelter until we knew it was safe. We’ll rendezvous at Crosshair and Tech’s position.”

Echo couldn’t hide his relief as he replied. “Glad to hear it, Senator.”

You put your comm back and released a sigh. Rather than looking at Hunter again, you focused on the pile of his armor at your side. As leaders, it was time to focus back on your people. He would understand that just as he had understood everything else. “Time to suit back up, Sergeant.”

Hunter nodded in your periphery to agree with you. Though he reached for the pile with a tight growl, you gently pushed his hand away, instead doing much of the work for him as you started with the upper half of his blacks. Silence sat between the two of you as he re-suited, but you weren’t sure what to make of it. You were both too far inside your own minds to really think about it.

His helmet was the last thing you secured in place for him, and you held it between your hands for a moment as your gaze studied his visor. This was something that would have to be discussed later. For now, he had to focus on his squad, just as he had let you focus on your own people before.

You stood and helped Hunter to do the same. He grunted at the movement, and you ducked low to swing his arm over your shoulders. You had already picked up both your torches and helped Hunter with his pack, and one last sweep of the base confirmed you had left nothing behind.

Nothing but the unspoken truth of what you had done, the remnants of which continued to linger on your mind, heart, and mouth with a sweet vengeance that was no doubt only going to make things even more difficult than they already were.

chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb

senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519

[ink-stainedkiss]

Past Scars - Satoru Gojo Drabble

Synopsis: College!Satoru (and College!Suguru) has some interesting scars that catch your attention

*Not proof read*

A/N: So I made up a Headcannons that after…you know what happens to Satoru and Suguru 🙁… they come back in their next life with the scars from their past. I thought I was a cool idea and I love College AU so I smashed those to together! I think I'm going to make longer fics about this later on, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed :)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 952

You and Gojo had been friends since the eighth grade, so you both were extremely comfortable around each other. You were practically inseparable. Since you were so close, it came with nothing being able to cross boundaries. Most always guessed that you too were filled with tension, but that was a story for another day. As you both grew and graduated, you noticed that Satoru changed. Like changed. He grew taller, a hell of a lot taller than you. His figure muscles were huge and you weren’t being creepy when you watched him during the summer, just appreciating the view.

Anyways, there was one thing you hadn’t brought up between the two of you. It’s not like Satoru said anything about them, but you still believed it was a touchy subject. The day you worked up the courage to ask him about it, was in his dorm, along with his roommate Suguru. You and Suguru weren’t as close, but you were still definitely friends. You had only met him during your senior year of high school, but Satoru brought him around quite often so you both got closer.

You and Suguru were relaxing on Satoru’s bed, scrolling on your phones and showing your screens to each other if something funny popped up. The three of you were planning to head out to dinner and of course, Satoru was the only one not ready. Suguru kept reminding him to get up, but to no avail, Satoru accidentally fell asleep. He jolted up when you knocked on the door, now you were patiently waiting for him to get ready. Well, at least you were the patient one.

“Do you just want to go and leave him?” Suguru asked loudly, obviously wanting his roomate to hear from the bathroom. You snickered,glancing at the white-haired man,”Why not, it’ll be more quiet.” You and Suguru laughed together as Satoru glared at you both from the doorway,”If you guys leave, then who’s going to pay? ‘Cause I know neither of you have money.”

You shared a look with Suguru,shrugging,”He does have a point.” The man nodded, smirking to himself. Becoming bored with your phone, you set it down, just as Satoru was walking out. He moved to his dresser, scanning through the folded clothes,”Should we all match?” He asked over his shoulder. Your brow furrowed,”Why the hell would we do that?” The man pouted,”Is that a no?”

Suguru cut in,”They might think we are all dating.” Before you could make a sound of disgust, Satoru interrupted, turning to the both of you with a Cheshire-cat smile,”And who says that’s a bad thing?” The wink he sends you and Suguru is enough to send blush to your cheeks. Satoru lets out a hearty laugh and turns back to his dresser. You notice how Suguru shifts and looking at his face, he too is flustered.

Without hesitation, Satoru pulled off his shirt, revealing his ripped abs. Suddenly your phone was the most interesting thing in the room. Though, your eyes did catch onto the darkened scar that wrapped around his waist. Not only there, but there was one that stretched from under his peck and dipped past his loose sweatpants. The first one you noted a while ago was smaller than the rest that were etched onto his chest and back, it was placed diagonally on his throat. Your curiosity got the better of you and before you would stop yourself, your mouth was opening,”Hey ‘Toru?”

He hummedin question, his shirt halfway around over his head,”How did you get those scars?” He looked at you quizzically, then looked down at his marked body,”Oh, yeah these,” he chuckled,”They’re not scars, they’re birthmarks. I’ve had them since I was a baby.” Suguru was now in the conversation, quietly listening to the two of you.

“They aren’t passed on, are they?” You asked, making him shake his head,”Nah, my parents don’t have any marks,” He covered his figure with his shirt but continued,”My mom told me when I was a kid that they were from my past life.” Suguru chuckled next to you,”So someone sliced you in half?” Satoru raised a brow, looking entertained at his friend's words,”Well you can’t make fun of me when she has no clue about yours.”

Your eyes widened while Suguru’s face dropped, turning to him, you gave him a look of utter disbelief,”Do you have marks too?” The man sighed, beginning to lift his shirt. Man, i'm just getting spoiled today, aren’t I? Ignoring your thoughts, you watched as he revealed his similar scars. There was a huge ‘X’ across his chest and after taking his arm out of the sleeve, you notice the marks that acted like bolts of electricity starting from his right shoulder onto his arm.

“So I guess someone cut you up, huh, Suguru?” Satoru teased, making Suguru roll his eyes. Once his shirt was back on and you were done gawking, Satoru turned to you,”Do you not have any birthmarks, Sweetheart?” Frowning, you shook your head,”No. I wanna have badass scars like you guys.” The men laughed at the small frown on your lips. Satoru begins to put on his circular glasses, ones that he’s had forever,”You don’t need them. You already look pretty without them.”

You were stunned, but Satoru was already changing the topic, clapping his hands together,”Alright, who wants food.” Suguru was hopping off his roommate's bed and held out a hand to you, though I wasn’t needed, you still took it, melting under his sultry smile. These two had no clue what they did to you.

[genshinnrambles]

[4.0]: A Theory On Rhinedottir, Alchemy, and the Meaning of Sin

“One thought may end all calamity, and there will always be thoughts that may transcend time.” -The Meaning of Aeons “Separate the dust in the flames with joy, and extract the exquisite from the crude. For all in the universe comes from a single source, and all things may be derived from a single thought.” -Cinnabar Spindle

I’ve been wanting to do some Rhinedottir speculations for a while. With the new Ancient Colors world quest in Fontaine, I think now is a good time to propose a theory about this mysterious member of the Hexenzirkel, her approach to alchemy, and the reason she is a “sinner,” especially within the context of one of the Archon Quest’s central questions: what does it mean to be “born with sin”?

SPOILERS: Up to Act II of the Fontaine AQ (just Primordial Sea stuff), and Ancient Colors.

Although Rhinedottir is never mentioned by name in Ancient Colors, all of the signs of her are there: Mamere’s identity as an artist, Elynas’ otherworldliness and similarities to Durin, and the differences between the Melusine’s perception of the world and our perception of it (or their aesthetics, which we will touch on later). Ancient Colors is trying to remind us of Dragonspine and, if you were playing during this time, Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, and I believe it is doing so because it is key to the secret of the Primordial Sea and the prophecy of Fontaine.

We’ve heard Rhinedottir’s perspective only twice so far, and that was in the Windblume festival from this last year and in Cinnabar Spindle’s lore. Though we still don’t know much about her, she does identify herself as a “mother” of many children, and that she is raising the only son she has left. This, of course, is Albedo. 

We also know that she is considered a "sinner" at the center of the Cataclysm who unleashed "an army of shadowy monsters" onto Teyvat, but we have very little grasp of what exactly is meant by "sinner," and what if any consequences this label has had on her since then. Although every Hexenzirkel witch will undoubtedly be very important to uncovering the truth of Teyvat, Rhinedottir presents a particularly interesting case as the only one whose activities may have caused cataclysmic destruction, as opposed to Alice's general mischief and strange sense of humor.

It’s almost nothing to go off of, but I hope to demonstrate in this speculative theory that it’s more than enough to arrive at some answers.

Psychoanalysis 101, Round 2 

To better explain what Durin, Elynas, and Rhinedottir’s other children are, we need to use an analogy rooted in Freud’s psychoanalytic theory of dream interpretation. This is a super TL;DR version of it and way oversimplified, but if you’re interested I wrote a more detailed theory about the significance of dreams in Genshin that has a full explanation of it there. (Also, it should be said that these were just Freud’s theories, please do not take any of the following as an accurate description of the human psyche and how it works. We are just having some fun for the sake of media analysis.)

Freud thought that dreams are the mind’s means of expressing unfulfilled wishes, and that the psychological purpose of dreaming is to “fulfill” those wishes. In A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, he gives an example of this through a little girl’s dream where she was sailing on a lake: this dream was born out of an unfulfilled wish in her waking life, where she had to stop sailing on the lake despite wishing to continue. Hence, “I wish to sail on the lake” becomes “I am sailing on the lake” through the dream.

Further, Freud thought these unfulfilled wishes are “forgotten” in our unconscious mind when we are awake, censored by the ego to protect our conscious mind, but that at night this censorship is weakened. This is what allows a dream to occur while we sleep. 

These unfulfilled wishes are often more complicated than a childish wish to keep sailing on a lake. Think about it this way: a wish is, at its core, a thought in our head, or a desire. What do we do with the thoughts we don’t like, the ones that are unbecoming of us or are unacceptable to fulfill? 

We deny them. 

Specifically, we repress them into the unconscious, where they are forgotten. Thing is, even if we temporarily forget these thoughts, they won’t just disappear from existence - they fester in the unconscious, waiting to be expressed. The dream, therefore, is the unfulfilled wish/repressed thought’s attempt to cross the boundary from the unconscious mind into the conscious mind - to be acknowledged, or indeed remembered.

“Unfulfilled Wishes”

Making sense so far? If so, try to think of Teyvat like this: everything that is visible, everything above ground that the light touches and that can be perceived is like the ego and conscious mind. All of these things are what you’re aware of, things that you “know” and can make sense of, things that you understand, things that fit into rules and laws and order.

Now, think of everything in Genshin that is “unseen” and “unknown”: the Abyss, the spaces underground, forbidden knowledge, things that are “not from this world,” from beyond the firmament…these are like things from the unconscious mind, the repressed thoughts that we deny in ourselves because they may reveal a truth we are unwilling to face. These things are comparatively chaotic in nature, things we’d rather avoid, or things that we wish to forget.

We know that Elynas’ and Durin’s bodies are composed of matter that’s foreign to Teyvat, and that this is a major reason why they are incompatible with Teyvat and cause its destruction. This would make them more similar to a repressed thought, something that we don’t understand or know, and attempting to understand it destabilizes our sense of self, our “truth.” It follows that their home, the Abyss, is most similar to our unconscious mind, and Teyvat is most similar to our conscious mind.

Elynas: Before I was born, I floated in the cosmic darkness. It was cold there, and lonely. I was so sad, then, and I would often cry.

So, as their mother, who or what is Rhinedottir in this analogy? Well, we can be a lot more specific than calling her a “sinner.” In fact, she’s a dreamer, and alchemy is the medium through which she “dreams”:

This was a story from long ago...  Unborn life, unfulfilled wishes,  Tragic dreams at the edge of the universal darkness that could never come true, Indwell my body, and descend unto this world.  Then, my lovely children,  Like rainwater flowing into creeks, and plants growing towards the sun,  Go unto a lovely place, and display your own beauty there with pride.  This is a memory, a memory that a child named Durin had of his mother… "Thank you, Mother, thank you."  "You gave me wings to soar and a mighty form."  "Mother, I wish to go to a land of lovely songs,"  "I will tell them about you, Mother, and about everyone else."  "I shall tell them that the place where I was born is beautiful." -Festering Desire

Rhinedottir’s children, then, are like thoughts or ideas that she is bringing to life, or “making conscious,” by moving them from the Abyss to Teyvat. It may even be the reason why the sword from The Chalk Prince and the Dragon is called Festering Desire in the first place - it’s a reference to the idea of repressed thoughts, wishes, and desires festering in the unconscious.

Should the analogy hold true, it provides some insight into what her intentions may have been in creating her Abyssal dragons. But before that, we need to take a little detour into Enkanomiya and brush up on some lore.

Denouement of Sin

Eboshi: However, the heavenly order seemed to not wish for those who remembered all this to remain on the earth. We searched and searched for a road of return, but there was none to be found.

Remember these hologram-looking dudes? They are the Shades of Tokoyo, also known as Sinshades. They are described as afterimages of the former citizens of Byakuyakoku preserved by Istaroth’s favor, specifically those citizens’ most powerful emotions, and they are only visible during Evernight:

Eboshi: Due to the phenomenon known as Sinshades, the “past,” “history,” and “truth” of Enkanomiya would endure even if left to their own devices. Eboshi: As such, great effort was expended, not that we might remember, but that we might “forget.” Lady Sangonomiya was of this view.

Like a dream, Sinshades only appear at night, and they are a kind of embodiment of history or “truth” that Watatsumi Island has chosen to forget, representing the thoughts and emotions of those who once lived in Enkanomiya. Using Freud’s theory of dream interpretation as a framework, Enkanomiya then functions as Watatsumi Island’s unconscious mind. 

Put another way, if all Sinshades are the result of strong emotions preserved in time through Istaroth’s favor, then those emotions are like thoughts, and that would make the Sinshade a “physical” form or expression of those thoughts. So, when we call the afterimages the “Sins of Tokoyo,” we are in effect calling them the “Dreams of Tokoyo,” because they are the thoughts and emotions of Enkanomiya given form, and that’s what dreams do: they convey thoughts and feelings through a series of images. 

Through the Sinshades, we see an implicit association with the concepts of dreaming and sinning in Genshin’s worldbuilding, and through them we understand that they are not so different from one another.

A Brief Note on Aesthetics

Jakob: Look at your feet. Blood, flowing like a river, fertilizing the very dust of the earth with their filthy fat.

It may have struck you how various Melusine perceive reality in a way that greatly differs from the things we see, as if at times their perception was “flipped,” if not somewhat strange. By the end of Ancient Colors, it’s clear that this is due to the Melusine being born of Elynas, who is not from this world. A similar phenomenon can be seen in both Durin and Elynas, the former imagining itself dancing with the people of Mondstadt before it “woke up” from this dream to Dvalin’s fangs in its neck, and the latter realizing that the things that it finds fun are destructive and harmful to the people of this world.

This is a part of the commentary present in several world quests and commissions in Fontaine that deal with “aesthetics,” or one’s own sense of beauty. Aesthetics are principles that differ on both large and small social scales, varying between groups of people and between individuals (see Salsa’s and Ubu’s aesthetic disagreement), and they can change throughout time as values change. In other words, they are informed by perspectives.

For example, think of what we know so far about the Primordial Sea. Neuvillette wonders how the Primordial Sea could be capable of giving life and then “suddenly reversing itself” so that it instead “devours life,” but this is just his judgment of what the sea does, and ultimately his perspective. Many others view the properties of the Primordial Sea differently from him: to them, the prophecy is comforting because it signals a “return,” or a “homecoming.” To take it a step further, Neuvillette may be making an assumption by stating that the sea has reversed itself. Perhaps this is just how the sea is, perhaps this is its “truth.”

Verenata: The "truth" will not be limited or constrained by the eyes and perspectives of the viewer, and won't be distorted by what is in their heart. It objectively exists, and it just is...like the white sand, like the bones of seastars, like the waves that crash and pound...those are "truth."

Now, imagine that you are staring at a 3D object from a 90 degree angle. If I ask you to describe the object from where you're standing, you'll be able to accurately tell me about what roughly half of the object looks like, but you won't be able to accurately describe the other half of it without help from someone standing on the other side of the object.

But how can you be sure there even is another side of the object, or that it's any different from the one you see now? From your perspective, what is already visible to you may seem sufficient to describe the object in its entirety. In other words, your perspective becomes your "truth."

It is only through considering additional perspectives that we broaden our own understanding of reality and expand on our "truth." However, broadening our perspective is usually not a comfortable experience, as is typical when we engage with ideas that differ from our own. Part of expanding our "truth" requires us to shatter our current understanding, pick up the pieces, and reassemble them into a shape that makes space for these other ideas and their "truth."

For example, when we confront Jakob at Elynas' heart, he describes the rushing currents beneath our feet as Elynas' blood. To the player, who has been swimming around in that for a couple of hours by that point, this idea is macabre and horrifying. However, when we consider Jakob’s perspective, his “truth,” it also expands our understanding of Elynas as a being that is somewhere between dead and alive, sleeping if you will, and that he is more than capable of waking up from his slumber with the appropriate stimulus. Another example is Canotila, who saw the wasteland in Rene's Book of Esoteric Revelations as a peaceful forest. When we consider Canotila's "truth," her aesthetic sense doesn't change the way we see the wasteland, but it does show us something equally important: the way that we experience the wasteland is not the only way it can be experienced.

If we return to the other ever-present metaphor of alchemy as a form of painting, we can see that Rhinedottir’s aesthetic sense greatly differs from what is acceptable and compatible with Teyvat. But, just like Mamere, she paints regardless of whether her paintings are understood by a greater audience. In time, Teyvat's "aesthetics" may change again, and perhaps her "art" will be received differently when that time comes.

Concluding Thoughts

(A pool full of Water from the Primordial Sea. Countless sins were born of it…)

So, that is why I think Rhinedottir was deemed a sinner. She sinned by “dreaming” up these chaotic life forms that were not from this world, bringing them into being through the Art of Khemia, and telling those chaotic life forms that they were beautiful, too, that the ordered and lawful world of Teyvat just needed to realize how beautiful they were. Maybe Rhinedottir was dreaming of a new world, one where her children’s wishes could be fulfilled, where they could exist with everyone, and maybe creating that world required the destruction of this one. You could also think of her as someone who has introduced “external variables” into Teyvat, which, hmmm..:

“...No matter how many times I derive it, the result remains the same, though this result is not expected... Unlike the world depicted in these ancient texts, there will be no more new civilizations born... Unless we consider introducing "variables" from outside the system... If it was that sort of power, there might be a chance…” -Enigmatic Page I, Book of Esoteric Revelations

In this way, her “children” (thoughts) were all “born with sin,” or are born from sin (dreams). If Rhinedottir is a dreamer, then alchemy is the way that she dreams: it allows her to give forms to these thoughts. And if you buy that, then there are some serious implications to consider from this whole notion of Fontainians being “born with sin,” and just what exactly the Primordial Sea might be. Definitely something to think about while we wait for 4.1. 

One last point that is more of an aside than anything else: Rhinedottir’s only remaining child is Albedo, but through this lens we see that he is not just the culmination of the Primordial Human Project, the creation of a human through the power of alchemy, but also the only known example of Rhinedottir’s “ideas” that coexists with Teyvat as it is now. As for her known extant grandchildren, they have integrated with Fontainian society and don’t seem to cause them any trouble. I wonder if she knew something like that could happen?

But…that’s just my take on it so far. What do you think?

(also, fun fact: there is a parallel storyline to this one unfolding in Honkai Star Rail right now as it relates to being deemed a “sinner” for creating life, and another parallel storyline in Honkai Impact 3rd about creation and rebirth and “returning home to the sea” and I just love when Hoyoverse connects their games like that) 

EDIT (9/8/2023): Touched this up a bit and made some grammatical corrections. Thesis is the same, some added support and re-phrasing was done to better convey it.

Sources

A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

[augustinewrites]

autumn tends to be dawn winery’s busiest season.

because the harvest season heralds weinlesefest, which brings people from all over to mondstadt to celebrate, well, wine. so, it goes without saying that dawn winery not only has their own booth set up, but also supplies bars all over the city, hosts more wine tours and tastings, and works hard to accommodate the rise in exports to all over teyvat.

and if dawn winery is busy, that means diluc is busy. he’s got less free time, frequently going over budgets with elzer, meeting with potential vendors, and overseeing the winery’s increased day to day activity.

but weinlesefest is special, and while most of the ragnvindr’s family traditions died with his father, this one was much too precious to let go. especially now that diluc had a family of his own.

your two children hold wicker baskets as they walk through the orchard, each clutching one of their father’s hands. they love this little tradition as much as he does, listening intently as he lectures them in the art of picking the finest grapes.

he teaches them the textures to feel for, the scents. it’s a little much for a three and four year old to understand, but they get the point when he gives them ideal grapes to munch on.

tonight, they’ll even get to crush what they’ve harvested themselves. though most of the winery’s products are crushed in a press, the age-old maceration method of grape-treading is part of the fun and messy ragnvindr tradition.

there’s a soft smile gracing his face as he follows them around the orchard, lifting your little daughter in his arms to help her reach the grapes at the top of the vine. it’s a sight that pulls the words right out of your mouth and instead resonates deep within your chest.

you’re content to watch from your spot on the picnic blanket, humming as you unpack the lunch adelinde had prepared.

“do you think we picked enough grapes for aunt jean?” you hear him ask, to which they both nod fervently.

“well, you definitely didn’t pick enough for uncle kaeya.”

your daughter’s little face lights up as said uncle strolls into the vineyard, eyeing the rows of unpicked grapes like a cat that got the canary. “uncle kaeya!”

diluc rolls his eyes as his kids run toward the cavalry captain, but the smile on his face is fond as his brother (who is, much to his chagrin, his children’s favourite at the moment) kneels down to wrap them up in his arms. your husband makes his way back to your side, groaning as he sits beside you on the blanket.

“of all the people,” he muses, shaking his head slightly, watching as kaeya leads your children in harvesting more than the required bunches of grapes, giggling together as they do so. “the grandmaster of the knights, the chief alchemist, literally anyone else. even that bard.”

“he’s the cavalry captain,” you remind him, leaning into his side. “and he’s decent enough at watching the kids.”

he replies with a noncommittal hum, wrapping an arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “we should have him babysit more often then. say…tomorrow night?”

“it has been a while since we’ve gone out,” you agree. a night out is just what the two of you need after how busy the both of you have been preparing for the festival.

“i know. i’ll make us a reservation and you…you can put on that black dress i like.”

you shake your head, face suddenly hot with embarrassment when you remember what’d happened the last time you’d worn the dress. “oh no. the black dress is retired, diluc.”

“since when?”

“since i had two children!”

“then i bet it’ll fit even better now because of—” he gestures vaguely at your chest.

you’re about to offer him a witty retort when you see kaeya appears before the both of you, your daughter clutching his hand and rubbing at her eyes. “looks like someone’s feeling the effect of missing her nap.”

you move to take her, but diluc beats you to it. “i’ve got her.”

of course, your little girl relaxes at the sight of her father, holding her arms out to him. diluc hoists her up, pressing his lips to her forehead and murmuring something only she can hear, her little face scrunching with laughter as he nudges her nose with his. “come on, let’s go get your brother so we can crush some grapes.”

“it’s like they get cuter everyday,” kaeya sighs, joining you in watching your little family in the vineyard. “you guys did good.”

“we ‘did good?’” you chuckle, sending him a strange look.

“yeah,” he shrugs. “it’s good to have proof that my straight-laced brother’s had sex more than once in his life.”

you roll your eyes, but are unable to hold back a smile. "what about you?"

“oh, i’ve had way more se—”

“i meant kids, kaeya.”

he hangs his head between his legs, shoulders trembling as he laughs. "ah, my lifestyle isn't exactly conducive to kids right now," he tells you.

then, after a moment, "someday, though. definitely someday."

you watch as diluc shifts his daughter into one arm, scooping your son up with the other. you’re graced with one of his rare, soft smiles when they both cuddle into him, clinging to his neck.

"hey, kaeya?" you ask. "do you feel like babysitting tomorrow?"

[unhappytimeleaper]

I don’t know how to feel about this. I just couldn’t stop thinking about watching the rain and reflecting on Neuvillette. Also, who knows what might change as he is officially released. This is just an idea that was eating my soul. 

Also, requests are open. I don’t really need to close them, but I am still slow with writing since I work full-time. I am hoping to branch off a little more from just Enstars requests, and ,I’ve taken a lot more of an active interest in writing for Jojo specifically, but anything works.

Neuvillette; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader. 

Warnings: very vague for the most part but talk of isolation, mental and physical abuse, and manipulation. It’s still Yandere.

Word Count: 2,300+

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

The rain had been pouring for some time now, longer than usual. What could have set him off for so long was still unknown. The drumming of the rain against the window, your head pressed more into it and away from the armrest of the chair, almost as if hoping by sheer luck you’d phase through the glass and be set free. The sound of the rain, once so peaceful, has grown to become nauseating. Ringing in the depths of your ears and into your soul, plaguing as a reminder of the life you now had. When there is nothing to shut it out, it only digs in more into the predicament you’ve been chained to. No more are the cozy aspects of the rain curled up in a family home with food, cooking, and music as the rain danced across the roof or the time with friends running through the storm in attempts to find shelter, laughs filling the air—just you and the room. 

Well, the room could be your fault. You weren’t physically chained there— not anymore, but the walls of the home, as big as they were, only served to mock you. Too big of a cage, a labyrinth that could only make the looming fear of loneliness bury itself between your ribs and bloom across your heart. The shadows of people known not to interact with you but their whispers tickling in your ears. Sounds of them adding about their personal lives and families, trips, gossip across Fontaine… all while your days had become mostly kept in silence. No, you’d rather stay in here… just one room that you could build into an escape paradise from the weighing ache the rest brought you—filled with books, a window [that you had spent countless hours fighting with], plush chairs, and per your request some plants. You managed to get your argument across to him on allowing for such necessities; although he liked to remind you what he had given, he could just as much take away. Though you knew his bleeding heart for you, that under it all, he craved the love he one day believed you’d give him. Punishments were honest; you knew that much had been burned into your brain, but it was rare that little things would be a trigger for him to take account less you become too much of a “brat.” Ugh, how easy it was to scoff at that term— treating you like a child having a tantrum compared to the reality of a human stuck in the grasp of the inhuman judge himself. 

Sometimes, you wondered what was better; he often was gone. Working, fulfilling a role you had to bite your tongue to denounce him from. If someone couldn’t understand humans, couldn’t understand what drove them to petty crimes and the struggles so many befall, why should he be allowed to make the calls? Judge-free, unbiased… no, that isn’t the way to handle it; you knew the pain of it all weighed down on him, which was something enough [better than doing so without remorse] but didn’t alter the unfair nature of the law. Not when, through it all, you ended up here, a product for his love rather than a participant. But him being gone didn’t change the aching; with the limited interactions, it was only through him the loneliness had a moment to dull. Even if you hated to admit it, you were only human— only able to crave someone to share time with to break the deafening silence of the home. Of the rain. It scared you. To know if he was around more, around enough that your fight to be free would extinguished. You’d lose yourself, complacent in a life you never asked for. If he was home more, would you lose yourself faster, lose the motivation to escape, and become just another wheel in the cog of fate? Or would you have more time to whittle down his defenses and create more openings for means of escape? The thought could only make your heart beat faster, drumming along to the rain, though was it out of fear or excitement? It was hard to tell.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

Breathe fogged up a patch of the window, the cooling glass chilling the chunk of the forehead that was placed against it. The feeling was uncomfortable, both in angle and blooming chills from the material, but not enough to want to move. The rain was still falling, though slowly dying down. He’d be home soon, creeping into the room looking for you just like every night. Days spent on loop, blending more and more into each other. He didn’t mind crying in front of you, often the tears adorning your shoulder or back as he held you close, but he seemed to try to keep the outside world— well outside. He knew it upset you, that it’d turn into some argument, and he’d need to find a reason to punish you for breaking the rules. You often had to bite your tongue, wanting to tell him this is why inhuman creatures shouldn’t have human partners. The gap in communication, feelings and needs was too much. It was killing both of you. You could feel it as he wept, the soft rain showers of him just not understanding, not being able to communicate effectively the motions of his heart. 

Two drops lined up just centimeters from your face. The mark of a race, the starting line. It was a time that once was so innocent when you were a kid choosing a random drop and narrating it in your head as you waited for the storm to pass so you could go out and play. ‘Woe is me’ could only be how you thought of it now. Him and you set up for the race— the starting line and… go. 

Rolling down the frame and collecting other droplets, their trails jumping and altering in their paths as gravity dragged them down. One pulled into the lead, always him. He was always one step ahead, one smarter and more intuned. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar, he always found your new escape attempt and could see through your flowery words of deception. In that sense, you had to admit his role fits him well, but only left the bitter remains of the stems in your mouth when he locked you back up with a ‘you’ll be let out when you learn not to lie.’ It must be something tied to him on a fundamental level, a sense. Or perhaps it was just age, something you could never achieve. You couldn’t count how many times you watched the droplets race, hoping that maybe just once you could be one step ahead, one…

No. Even if you did, where would you go? The melusine were everywhere, and getting out within reach of the court would be a life sentence of punishment. Perhaps solace somewhere in the underground community, but someone likely would sell you out to better favor their outcome. You could break for the border; it’d be brutal and dangerous, a bounty on your head faster than you could imagine. Would other regions even be safe from a runaway? Maybe some other small communities… would become looking for you? Would you have to always stay alert for the rest of your life? Would you have to live alone, fending only for yourself? You’d lose yourself just as much in a life like that, but maybe it was the price of freedom. The price of not playing a role, soul withering away trying to maintain the rules and ideals of something you could never understand. When did your thought become so sorrowful, the fight you once had? A flame extinguished by the rain left only as sparks fumbling to stay lit. Look away, it wasn’t over yet. There had to be good out there, people who could understand, you’d take you in. Life would never be easy again, but it wasn’t over. Not yet. 

Lifting your head from the window was always weirdly comforting, the movement restored to your neck and it stretching back into place. The coolness of the glass no longer flushed against your skin, allowing the heat of the room to melt away the temperature. Rest your mind, reset your body. He never minded the long game, maybe as time for him felt infinite. But rushing would only cause holes in a plan you couldn’t keep affording to lose. The storm would pass, and you’d find a way to relight that flame. You couldn’t let him win, and you couldn’t let this system win. 

plat, plat, plat…

“My love,” he spoke. He— Neuvillette, was home. The rain had stopped, only some residue drops highlighting the storm moments before. He stood in the doorway, hand holding the frame as his voice reverberated across the silent room. He always waited for you to notice him before entering. Permission didn’t matter, but in a sense, it tended to bring some comfort to know where the dragon lurked. It only took a brief flash of eye contact for him to take it as clearance into entering the room, legs quickly carrying him to your seat. 

Neuvillette stood in front of you, pristine and put together; his eyes sharply focused on you, and his neutral expression made him seem more intimating than you knew he was. You had been here long enough as well to see the faint but dried crust of where his tears had pooled down his cheeks from moments just before. It didn’t change the power radiating off him, seeping into the room and over you like a blanket to remind you he was in charge here. Curiosity burned in your stomach, leaping up your throat, wanting you to ask what could have caused him to cry so much.

Gossip regarding the law wasn’t to be taken seriously, but the lack of outside world stimulation always makes the prospects more enticing. It burned in your mind to know what was happening outside of your cage, in the world below. Though asking would only come back to haunt you, the fights that led to punishments burned into your mind and skin even if the physical sides had healed. Not to mention the way he would take it if the words even managed not to set off a disagreement, that you cared. Neuvillette may be blind to human emotions and feelings, but he did have his own set— and that presented as caring for him on the most basic level of touch or tone only worked against you. Solidifying your partnership, your love in his mind. 

The silence was always more deafening when he stood before you; that even a breath would break the moment. His hand was delicate, though, floating to your head before wistfully tracing your hair and to your chin. It tickled, enough you wanted to flinch but knew better as he tilted your head to look into his eyes more. Pulling his hand from your face, he held it with his palm up. You knew what he was asking. Take his hand, but don’t look away. Unlike his graceful movements, you didn’t have as much time before his eyes would narrow, a sign of rejection in his eyes— he couldn’t take it. Unlike for humans, you could only assume there was something dormant, something innate that drove the ideas of jealousy, rejection, and the need to isolate on a biological level rather than mental. People could do just the same; you knew this for a fact, but the way he carried it out felt more visceral. Not doing so wasn’t an option; it freed him from his own judgment because nothing could defy the fact of biology. 

Your hand moved from instinct; at least, at this point, it was strange to think of how things now were ingrained in you. The movements of hands, replying to questions, from when it was time to sleep and wake up to where you walked through the day. That it just instantly would click, a passive thought or action. Not trained into you but a reflection of your life, how the passing days and routines with him had become a staple in your life. You had changed since then, proof that whatever was to come was inevitable—a mark of fate. 

Pulled to your feet, Neuvillette wrapped his arm around your torso, still ghostly with his touches. His face now resting on your hair as he breathed– in and out. The tension in his body released just slightly, but as if you were the answer to what had been weighing down on him. “My love,” he repeated, lips softly tickling the top of your head, “come on. Let’s have dinner.” 

The routine of your long day: Neuvillette returns from work to fetch you from your room to a meal before settling into bed together. He’d try to make a convo, and sometimes you’d reply. Other times, he’d focus on reading something, and you’d do the same or just turn your back, hoping he’d get the hint. There was no use in fighting it; the rules layered in stone. 

“Okay.” 

[kwamiwayzz]

Traces in the Night

A/N: It’s been awhile since I’ve written fic consistently, and I’m also procrastinating real hard on one of my WIPs. I’m hoping that writing drabbles here and there will kinda help me get back in the momentum of things. Other than that, hope you Jeckole-likers enjoy this rushed fic I wrote in bed when I should be sleeping.

—

Before college, before meeting Nicole, the night was Jecka’s favorite time of the day. Not because it meant going to the craziest parties. Not because she was a huge night owl by any means.

But it was because of the quiet.

Night meant her parents would be sleeping. Night meant that she wouldn’t hear any glass shattering or roaring insults between her parents. All she had was herself, her thoughts, and some peace for once.

The night was Jecka’s favorite time of the day…until she stepped foot in Nicole’s room that fateful evening back in high school. Luckily, and by some God-given miracle or Allah, or whichever kind of god was up there, Jecka opened the door just in time before her best friend’s life was extinguished by a single rope and the ceiling fan in her room.

As per usual, Nicole pretended like it never happened. She hated the stares of fake pity from their classmates, along with the unnecessary advances from all the guys. Oh? So, now these assholes all of a sudden care about her? Jecka constantly warded them off—told them to off themselves, which was something she yelled out way more often to everyone else than Nicole did. Not that Nicole minded.

Night was the perfect time to escape all that, Nicole thought. She loved the nighttime for the same reasons Jecka did. The night meant quiet. The night meant peace.

But ever since that day, it was just a constant reminder.

She couldn’t sleep again. As she laid in her bed, Jecka stared up at the ceiling above her, ceiling fan staring right back at her—almost as if it was mocking her. She sighed and turned her to side. But what’s the use? No amount of tossing, turning, readjusting, or whatever would fix her brain from replaying that memory all over again. What if it happens again? How can she stop it? What if she sleeps and wakes up to find Nicole gone forever? All because she wasn’t there.

Those were the constant questions that would keep Jecka up at night. No matter how much her body craved sleep, her mind would tell her to stay up. Stay up in case Nicole needs her. She saved her life once, so she needs to be there again. Jecka couldn’t take any chances.

A shift on her bed interrupted her thoughts for a moment. And when she turned around, she realized Nicole was right there, slumbering peacefully. The sight of her face, no tension or anger bubbling underneath as usual, put Jecka at ease. She couldn’t help but smile at Nicole’s face illuminating in the moonlight.

Then Jecka sighed. It didn’t matter if Nicole was right next to her, alive and well—warm and breathing. The memory was always going to replay over and over.

Her eyes gravitated towards her neck. They always did, and Nicole hated it every time she noticed. Jecka would always help her hide it every morning before school. Nothing a bit of mascara and some makeup can’t handle. If only it worked like that for Jecka’s brain, though. Maybe just for one night, she could have some sort of mascara to forget about it. Not forever, obviously. But just for a day, or even a week. Anything would be better than dealing with the nightmares of finding Nicole’s cold and lifeless body in the other girl’s room.

Without thinking, Jecka’s hand slowly came up to Nicole’s sleeping frame. Her fingers gently rested upon her face.

“Okay, for a cold bitch, at least you’re still warm,” Jecka whispered.

Good thing Nicole was a heavy sleeper because if not, she’d tell her how gay this is right now. It’s not gay to touch your best friend’s face. It’s just called concern. Jecka’s fingers continued to trace down her face until she reached her neck. The scars were still there. Purple and black wrapped around Nicole’s neck. The doctor said the scars should fade after a couple months or so. But…

No matter how many times Jecka convinced herself, the scars were a constant reminder that it was her fault. Her fault for not being there for Nicole when she needed her most. Her fault that her best friend almost lost her life.

What a dumbass she was for that ultimatum.

Jecka kept staring at Nicole’s neck and began to trace her thumb along the rope scar—gently, and with feather-like touches.

“I’m sorry.” The apology came out strained, almost as if she wanted to cry.

Nicole might feel weirded out by this in the morning, but Jecka didn’t care. She shifted a little closer, tucking herself under Nicole’s chin and wrapped an arm around her back. The scar now stared back at her, inches from her face. Her lips settled on Nicole’s scarred neck in some childish way to “kiss it all better” or who knows. Maybe she was gay or maybe she really cared about suicidal friend. It didn’t exactly matter.

All that mattered to Jecka was for this to never happen to Nicole again.

She won’t let it.

[technofeudalism]

This time three years ago, as difficult as it may be to remember, a hot topic of political discussion was “going back to brunch.” It was a callback to a few years prior, when a rash of signs at anti-Trump protests had proclaimed that If Hillary Had Won, We’d Be at Brunch Right Now. “Brunch” became a shorthand for the attitude of liberals whose political complacency had been shattered by the rise of Donald Trump — and who now wanted their complacency back. As 2020 drew to a close, Trump finally seemed to be out of the picture. He’d decisively lost the election — with Biden beating him in the crucial swing states of Michigan, Pennsylvania, Nevada, Arizona, and Georgia and racking up almost seven million more votes than Trump overall. So the debate between leftists and “brunch” liberals was about whether to keep pushing for a more just and equal society or to call a return to the Obama-era status quo good enough. As 2023 draws to a close, Trump is beating Joe Biden in Michigan. And Pennsylvania. And Nevada. And Arizona. And Georgia. (Biden is leading by two whole points in Wisconsin if you want to take comfort in that.) A lot could change in the next year, of course, but as of this moment a second Trump administration looks not only possible but disturbingly likely. Some liberals are reacting by expressing anger or incredulity at voters to Biden’s left who aren’t satisfied with what the president has offered them so far. They find the idea that some of these voters may stay home or vote for an independent candidate like Cornel West outrageous. Biden hasn’t been perfect, but the job numbers are good and he did some good things and if he hasn’t done more, that’s not really his fault — he’s trying! — and anyway Trump would be worse. This reaction misses the point. It’s the job of politicians to appeal to voters. If Biden isn’t winning them over with what he’s currently offering, that’s his fault, not theirs.

[ ... ]

I’ve made the case over the course of the last few years that some of Biden’s excuses for accepting defeat on these issues have been extremely dubious. Let’s assume for the sake of argument, though, that I’m wrong about all that and Biden really is trying his best. In that case, shouldn’t his message be all about playing up what he’s trying to do? “Vote for me so I can keep pushing.” Sometimes, to be fair, that’s pretty much what he does say. But all too often — as with the administration’s catastrophically misguided “Bidenomics” rhetoric — the message is, “You should be satisfied with what I’ve already done. It doesn’t matter how little you like the wars I’m involving us in abroad or the declining real spending power so many of you have experienced at home. Just focus on the economic indicators that I want you to focus on and be happy.” And frankly that message always reminds me of the satirical conclusion of Berthold Brecht’s poem “Die Lösung” (“The Solution”). It was written after the defeat of a 1953 general strike and uprising in East Berlin. The ruling party, Brecht wrote, had put up posters around the city saying that “the people had squandered the confidence of the government” through their disloyalty. “Would it not be simpler,” Brecht asked, “for the government to dissolve the people, and elect another?”

Ben Burgis, Jacobin, November 2023

[resurrectionist3]

What the hell are we supposed to do about America?

I’m asking anyone who sees this to repost, add tags, and add insight and extra information to this if possible. Even if it isn’t your usual type of content or even if you think this stuff doesn’t apply to you, please share it anyways. If anything, I just need confirmation that people are seeing what I have to say and that they perhaps share my thoughts. I know this is a lot but I tried to make it as clear and easy to read and understand as I could.

As a history fan, I’ve been having a really hard time recently. And im sure a lot of people know why.

Im scared right now. Im tired. And Im angry. Im constantly being overtaken by all of these emotions and I don’t even know where to begin to direct that passion and those feelings.

People everywhere, especially online, are talking about whats going on in the United States right now. A lot of people are talking about leaving and for most, thats really not an option. Most are calling for us to fight back and to stand up against what’s happening and what’s going to happen.

But how do you even start to do that? WHERE do you start? I’m among the many people who have asked those questions. We’re AWARE of what’s going on, we KNOW. And yet we feel stuck because what in the world are you even supposed to do?

History always repeats itself - it’s like bad film remakes of classics that didn’t need to be reimagined. So I decided to go back to one of my favourites of the remakes - the American Revolution. I’m not going to tell you that i did extensive research that lasted several hours and combed over hoards of reputable sources, because i didn’t. I did a singular Google search and opened one website. “What events led up to the American Revolution?” And I opened a link for the Massachusetts Historical Society (provided on this post).

All i needed was a basic summary and understanding of the several events and happenings that led to a war and entire reformation of a country, because i just needed to genuinely know - how the FUCK did they do that.

DISCLAIMER: I’m not telling anyone to praise and/or worship the “Founding Fathers” for what they did way back in the 1700s. I’m not saying they were good people who did good things; in fact we know that as individuals, a lot of them were pretty shitty. No one should be worshipping any one person or group of people - dare i say thats what got us into this mess we’re in right now. So telling you to look up to these dead white men and make them like gods is the absolute LAST thing i’m trying to do. But one thing they did right was incite massive change. And thats what we all need too. So i think its at least helpful to look back at what they did because clearly - it worked.

I screenshotted the main page of the website i linked and i think i’m just going to let the words there speak for themselves because some of it sounds eerily similar to some problems we’re facing or will face soon (This post is also long enough already). I implore you to go to the website and read more about each of these things and even do your own research. The similarities between human history and modern day issues absolutely do not stop here. I marked and highlighted parts that I personally believe are pretty prevalent.

Just adding a little bit of insight to the second to last point: Washington kind of notoriously didn’t want to lead the people. And he certainly didn’t want to be President. But often times, the people who don’t want to be in positions of leadership and power are the people who are most fit to do so. Because they understand the responsibilities and what it means to be in such a position. Beware of people who yearn for power and strive to be in leadership positions…

This is absolutely not much - but I did this because I just needed to know. I needed to be reminded that this level of change was possible once. I’m more than aware that things are different now. Even though the story is the same, the characters and the finer details are different and far more complex. Even if we tried, I couldn’t say for sure that it would work. America isn’t 13 colonies anymore. It’s 50 established states - 48 mainland, and 2 islands on opposite sides of the map. MILLIONS of people. How do you spread the word to that many? We have access to much quicker communication now, but thats both a blessing and a curse. The revolution was also during a time when those in charge at the state level were far more aware and involved with the communities they oversaw and represented. Things that happened then are just either extremely difficult or even impossible to replicate today.

But in my opinion (which is nowhere near expert), I think the one thing we should try to do is unite as much as possible. I know it’s extremely, extremely difficult to see eye to eye these days. I’m not asking anyone to make friends or agree with people who have dangerous and harmful views. But the best way to keep power over mass amounts of people is to keep them blind and separated - keep them weak and unaware of how strong they could be if they worked together. A few people may not be able to push an immovable obstacle - but hundreds? Thousands? They could break one.

Rather than arguing, please try to educate. At the end of the day, there is something that everyone can agree on. Find something and expand upon that. If people are worried about groceries and taxes and those things, then do what you can to learn about that and explain what can ACTUALLY be done to fix those things. Show them the truth, show them whats being done and explain how its working AGAINST the people, not FOR us. If you can agree on ONE THING, perhaps thats a start.

Its time to have those uncomfortable conversations that we try to ignore or avoid at family gatherings. I’m going to work on it myself, because I am not a strong speaker in real life. It took me over 2 hours to curate and write this post, imagine if i had to come up with things on the spot💀 When discussing polarising topics with friends and family who dont agree with your stance, please please try to educate them rather than belittle them for having incorrect or harmful information. People who are on .. that side prefer to yell, talk over others, argue, bring up random things, place blame, and change topics. They do that because deep down, I believe they know that they’re wrong. So instead of talking respectfully and civilly, they get loud and obnoxious because they want to confuse and fluster you. And it’s easy to give in, especially when it’s just you against others. If you ever feel you’ll be in danger for speaking up in those moments, then PLEASE do what you believe is necessary to keep yourself safe. But for those of you who can, I just want you to try. Yea, it’s going to make family gatherings uncomfortable. But at this point, that’s a small price to pay. I understand cutting off old friends and family members who have harmful views and spread harmful rhetoric. But IF YOU CAN, please try to make them agree with you on SOMETHING. Because it’s a start.

The higher powers want people to be divided - pointing fingers at each other and other things, placing blame on anything else other than the real cause of the problems. Because they want you to be blind to the real threat, which is them.

This is so fucking corny and i can’t believe im about to write this and believe it but honestly…

United is the ONLY way we can stand now. But currently .. we’re anything but United.

[wewillbeseen-butnotbeheard]

ok. first of all, this is one thing i was wanting to get out, ive already talked about “defining myself” but i want to try again, kind of

i REALLY think, i’m not able to understand a lot of these concepts properly. by that i mean “feeling like an animal” or “feeling like a human”, feeling as if something is “right”, etc etc.

to be honest, i struggle to say that i “feel” like a fox, i have no fucking clue what that’s even supposed to mean. as well as that, i don’t know what it means to feel as if you “should be” something. though in the same way, i couldn’t say i “feel” like a human, the only reason i could say that is because my body is human and the rest is… nothing at all, i don’t know

there was something i heard someone say at one point (months ago) i don’t remember the context, but it’s been in my head for the last few days. it was along the lines of “i dont feel as if i am supposed to be anything, so what i’m supposed to be is whatever my heart desires”??? i don’t know if it sounded like that. is that how it works? is that roughly how it works? i wouldn’t know.

all i know is what i WANT. and now after those few days i feel even more secure in that “want”because when i was out in nature i felt it just as much. i think it’s really beautiful and i want to be a part of it (though usually when talking about all this, i mean my body) what else am i supposed to say? i want it

the word “therian” and whatever else can be irrelevant for a lot of this, and it’s not what i want and it’s not what i feel all this for. but do i want to be one? very much so, sometimes. i think i can’t ever get that clear, a lot of asks i receive speak as if its not something i “want”. wanting it comes almost hand in hand with wishing to be an animal sometimes, but it’s never the FOCUS. its like… something that i would be willing to settle for if there was no way to get closer to being a LITERAL real life furry animal

and there’s a lot of talk of “being enough”. i’ve been reassured many times, but i have a LOT of doubt, so even when i’m assured that it’s not that deep or complicated or whatever, i kind of just end up where i started again after a while

/it’s all a lot. i mean, all this is A LOT

because the thing about “wanting to be a creature” has been with me since i was very young, it showed itself in a lot of different ways, and it blossomed especially around ~2020. it is intertwined directly with my sexuality amongst other things, and i wouldn’t be half of the person i am right now without it. i’ve already said this, but it is a lot of me.

i don’t have “phantom shifts” or anything (i wish) i don’t “feel like an animal on human hardware”, i don’t feel as if i was “supposed to be an animal” and so on.

MY experiences don’t sound much at all like what i hear about here, though i quite often get told that i remind individuals of themselves. that’s nice to hear, but i don’t know. if i try talk about my experiences in other places, i just get directed here

and you know what i WANT to be some kind of creature because i like myself better that way. i would prefer being that way. i would be much more comfortable that way. i know this, too, i enjoy being referred to/seen as it and i wish i could go further with that

that’s part of why i have acted bitterly sometimes. it’s hard to just sit around, disappointed with my body or who i am, knowing that some people are able to achieve those certain joys that i feel are almost blocked off from me at times.

and i still don’t GET how some furries do it. or how it’s possible to NOT be an “alterhuman”/whatever else and not have a problem with it. i’m trying not to have a problem with it. maybe i just sound self-centred, but i only find myself able to support it as long as it includes me. i’ve gone to quite low points over “being human”, especially a few months ago, and i can’t bear having to just put up with it while others find happiness in themselves. i find it impossible to “be an ally”. that’s not an attack btw, i just literally will not, it doesn’t make sense to me

to put it simply, i don’t know how to define a lot of my feelings (at all), but i really fucking wish i was something other than human and that “wishing”. makes up a lot of who i am. some of it is a life long experience, and some of it has came to fruition more recently. that’s all i know, really

i still have a lot more to say, and while i don’t think i have any more answers yet, i may be able to describe this a little better. i’m not sure though. sorry for the long post and sorry if this is incoherent/full of mistakes

[umbracirrus]

WIP WThursday <3

After a very hectic evening of baking and tidying yesterday, I wasn't able to get what I wanted to work on written or posted as a WIP! However, I come with one now!

Tagged by @hircines-hunter, @skyrim-forever, and @thequeenofthewinter! Not tagging anyone back at this point, maybe next week if I have a WIP though ^-^

Balgruuf and Proventus have a personal chat in the Bannered Mare today :3

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

“My Jarl? How long have you been here?”

The voice was quick to draw him from his thoughts as he had some more of his drink, and he noticed that Proventus had approached him, leaving his daughter and son-in-law to whatever it was they were celebrating, and appeared to be silently asking as to whether he could take one of the seats at the table. After he gestured towards it in a just as silent response, he exhaled quietly. “I’ve not been here for long. After all that business with trying to figure out how to respond to Korir, a drink was sorely needed,” he muttered, moving to rest his free hand on the table and lightly rapping his fingers against the wood. “Thank you for your help with that. It was highly appreciated, as usual.”

“Ah, of course. It is all part of my job, after all.”

After a few moments of silence, Balgruuf straightened his posture and asked a question which had been on his mind since noticing him there… And was likely the question his steward seemed to be anticipating, he looked to almost be bursting to say something but waiting for the right moment to speak. “You don’t come here often, so what brings you here, hm?”

Straight away, Proventus’ face lit up. That had definitely been the right question to ask. “Adrianne invited me, saying that she had news.” It was almost as though he couldn’t hold himself back. “She and Ulfberth are expecting their first child. Due to be born in the summer.”

“Well, that is most certainly good news.” A smile broke out onto his face at he saw how prideful Proventus looked. “That means that you will be a grandfather too.”

“Oh, yes, I will indeed…” And then, just as quickly as the excitement had made itself clear, so did melancholy. A quiet sigh fell from the steward’s lips as his face fell, before he sipped at his wine. “They grow up so fast. I still remember when Adrianne was no higher than my knee, excitedly swinging a sword around… my little warmaiden.”

“Don’t remind me… It won’t be long before my three are-“ His words caught in his throat as he finished his thought in his mind. It really wouldn’t be long at all… All three of his children were closer to adulthood now than they were to the days they were each born. How long would it be before they made lives for themselves? Had families of their own? Would he ever become a grandfather, as Proventus was set to be? He would never openly admit that the thought almost scared him, knowing that such a time was approaching so quickly. That the years were creeping up on him. “Hm. Now is not the time for such sullen thoughts. You should be with them and celebrating, not sat with me.”

“Ah, Adrianne wanted some fresh air for a few minutes so she and Ulfberth have gone to stand outside. I will be rejoining them when they return. I just happened to notice that you were here whilst I was waiting,” Proventus explained as his brow furrowed. “Are you here on your own, my lord? If you are, I am certain that Adrianne and Ulfberth would not mind if you were to-“

“Nonsense, Proventus. And you have no need for the formalities, this isn’t Dragonsreach. This is a time for you and your family, I would be intruding. Besides, Hrongar and Irileth will be here soon,” he smiled, before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Pass on my congratulations to Adrianne and Ulfberth. Their child will be lucky to have them as their parents, and you as their grandfather. You should invite them to Dragonsreach for dinner one of these days, they are always welcome guests.”

“I will do, and I shall let them know of your invite. And- Ah, there they are.” As if on cue, Adrianne and Ulfberth stepped through the doors, returning to where they had previously been sat. Now that Proventus had mentioned it, the fact that Adrianne was pregnant came across as obvious. “I shall leave you be, my Jarl. But if Irileth and Hrongar do not arrive, please do not hesitate to join us.”

After nodding along, Proventus stood up and returned to his daughter, leaving Balgruuf alone to his thoughts and his ale.

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly Part 8

Enemies to Lovers

Robb Stark x Frey Reader (F)

summary: mending.. slowly but surely, they are mending.

——————————————————————————

The frost of early morning clung to the camp as the soldiers stirred from their tents, readying themselves for another day of preparation and drills. You stood near the practice field, your cloak drawn tightly around you to ward off the chill. Your fingers, once deft with a bow, had grown slower since the miscarriage, though your strength was returning. Today, you watched the men train, observing their forms, their strategies a quiet reminder of the life you now lived.

Robb approached from across the camp, his broad shoulders silhouetted by the weak sunlight. You didn’t look up immediately, but you felt his presence as he came to stand beside you, silent for a moment.

“What do you think of them?” he asked, nodding toward the sparring men.

You glanced at him, surprised he was asking for your opinion. “They’re improving,” you said, your voice even. “But the younger ones hesitate too much. Hesitation will get them killed.”

Robb’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “I’ve noticed that too. We need to drill the hesitation out of them.”

You folded your arms, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Perhaps you should let me train them. I’d teach them to stop hesitating.”

Robb raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “I’d pay to see that.”

The ease of the exchange caught you off guard. For so long, every conversation between you had been fraught with tension or silence. Now, there was something… lighter. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself in the center of camp, overseeing the sorting of supplies. Robb appeared again, this time with a ledger in hand.

“You’ve taken to this role quickly,” he said, leaning against a nearby crate. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about managing the camp.”

You shot him a glance, raising an eyebrow. “Do you expect me to sit idle? I’d go mad with nothing to do.”

He chuckled softly, and the sound was warm, almost disarming. “No, I suppose not. You’ve never struck me as the idle type.”

The comment made you pause. It wasn’t said in jest or with sarcasm, but with something close to admiration. You looked at him for a moment, studying his expression, before returning to the task at hand.

As you worked, Robb didn’t leave. Instead, he stayed, asking about the supplies, offering his thoughts on how to ration food for the coming weeks. The conversation flowed easily, and though there were still moments of hesitation, it felt natural. You found yourself glancing at him more often, noticing the way his brow furrowed as he considered a problem, the way his voice softened when he spoke directly to you.

That evening, the two of you sat near the fire, sharing a meal. The camp was quieter now, with most of the men either asleep or keeping watch. Robb broke the silence, his voice thoughtful.

“You’ve surprised me,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on the flames. “I didn’t think you’d… adapt to this life as well as you have.”

You glanced at him, your expression guarded. “I didn’t think I’d have to. But circumstances don’t leave much choice, do they?”

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head. “They don’t.”

There was a pause before he added, “But you’ve done more than adapt. You’ve stepped up. You’ve shown strength… and more patience than I probably deserve.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you said quietly, “It’s not just patience, Robb. It’s survival. We both have roles to play in this war, and as long as we’re both here, I think we owe it to ourselves to… make this work.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “You’re right. And I want to try.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your chest tighten, though you pushed the feeling aside. Instead, you gave a small nod, your voice steady. “Then we’ll try.”

As the days turned into weeks, the small gestures between you grew. Robb began seeking you out more often, asking for your thoughts on strategies, for your help in organizing the camp. You, in turn, found yourself watching him with less resentment and more curiosity. There were still moments of friction old wounds didn’t heal overnight but the edges of your relationship were softening.

One evening, as you worked on a new embroidery pattern, Robb entered your tent unannounced. He looked down at the cloth in your hands, his head tilting slightly.

“What is it this time?” he asked, his tone light.

You held up the fabric, showing the outline of a wolf standing against a backdrop of flames. “It’s a work in progress,” you said. “A direwolf and a phoenix.”

Robb’s lips curved into a small smile. “Fitting,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on the pattern. “It suits us.”

For the first time, his words didn’t sting.

——————————————————————————

tags!!

@samieree @maysileeewrites @nervouschaosgladiator @yeahnohoneybye

[soranihimawari]

1/100th of a Second

Or how a poor college student became the sweetheart off a popular rookie athlete in his debut season…

Warnings: none? Just a meet cute at Noehbi…?

Pairings: Bokuto Kotarō x (fem!)reader

Ratings: reunitedbest friends!->lovers

Based on this image i had commissioned from @/rrabittt

Love, as scientific experts say, can change the chemistry of your brain. Love, some romantics who write in the genre, say can happen as often as a clap of thunder in the storm. Love, as you know it, walked into the classroom of your fifth grade class and you feel your young heart fall instantly within 1/100th of a second when your eyes meet the most talkative boy in your class.

Sure, for the next four years, until you enter different high schools, you were inseparable. Taking naps, going to support each other’s sporting events, you name it, he was there for every win and you were there for his. It wasn’t until your middle school year was ending that you had to break the news to him up weren’t able to join him in at Fukurodani. He was devastated and he seemed to visibly deflate and poke around his bento.

“But it’s not like I’m going to be too far away, Bo,” you remind him. “You can always watch my games when I start the season in Hyogo. My mom went to Inarizaki too before moving here to Tokyo for university and she met my dad instantly and kicked off their love story…”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same! You’re gonna be 12+ hours away by bus even more so my walking…”

“The scouts saw me out perform everyone on the team this year even if we didn’t make it to the girls’ junior nationals…’m really sorry bokkun.”

That summer, before you packed up and left, you don’t let the fight you two had nearly three hours before you leave with your parents who would drop you off in another city, stop you from marching to his house in the pouring rain. You pounded on his door and when his older sister answered the door, she leans over her shoulder and you don’t wait for her to return with a towel. For once, you put your heart on the line and in true story book fashion, you bully your way into your best friend’s room:

“Bokuto Kotaru!”

He’s never heard you yet at him, but you at 14 years old knew how to get his attention without the yelling. He hit his growth spurt this year and is now at a comfortable height difference for you to reach up, cup his face and humble him with his first kiss being stolen by you.

“You’re insane,” he mumbles.

“Absolutely stark raving mad,” you jest back before hugging him. “Thought you should know I’ve been wanting to do that since we were ten.”

And so, you leave when he wishes you luck in Hyogo.

Almost a full three years later, you’re back in the city that bared and raised you. Tokyo was ever growing, ever expanding. It would be the same across the country in Hyogo. Sure you were a bit timid even in the past, however ever since your parents decided to split, you find yourself back in your hometown.

It's a weird feeling hearing your old friend in your new high school's gymnasium. Apparently, though you were studying at Nohebi (because they were still accepting transfer students right before the year had started), you happened to join a classmate to oversee her boyfriend's volleyball club training. That's when you see a few of the guys clad in ivory. The third team that were invited were a den of cats, and you seem to pick up this was a pre-pre season face off. Noehbi's vice captain nudges one of the others whom your girl friend from class waves toward and you are introduced to Daisho Suguru. His rival, the tall guy in red, still insults him, but you sort of laugh at their banter. However, your attention goes to the third young man clad in the ivory and gray practice uniform. Sure, you haven't seen each other in three years, but you can tell he sort of filled out: chest and torso was worked out on a weekly focus rotation; his legs were covered with compression leggings which only accentuated his...other assets; and oh my god, you realize he's walking toward you.

"Excuse me," you smile at Daisho and his-your-girl friend, and you respond when you know Bokuto's voice has changed to a little raspier one than before. "Bo?"

"YN?"

You both chuckle and you let Daisho make the call to have the first practice match be between Nekoma (red team you found out later) and Nohebi, begins. WInner of that match will square off with one of the five top aces in the year.

Hours later, you're seen walking in the opposite direction of your own home, reconnecting with the boy you stole your first kiss from at 14. You fill him in on your life, even your parents divorce, "so the judge agreed I was old enough to choose who and where I wanted to live, so I came back home...with my dad."

"Cool, but y'know, 'm sorry they split," Bokuto says, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Me too, but I'm glad they're living their own truths now," you reply, shyly combing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be here through the end of our third year. So, I’ll be seeing you more I guess.”

He hums, nodding along. 

“Once an old friend, always an old friend,” Bokuto beams. 

You don’t bring up the time you literally gave him his first kiss, that memory could burn for all you care. Awkward and all, however that was three years ago and as his house comes to view, he asks you something a bit…sweet?

“Want to come in?” 

You, who think nothing of it, agree, stepping across the threshold of the front door you’ve came through so many times. His house is lively with with sisters and even the eldest one now is finally expanding the family. Her sweet smile invites conversation, but thankfully after you had said your greetings, she understands her kid brother more than anyone else. The middle sisters are gushing over the latest sonograms of their eldest sibling while Bokuto chimes in with being named a godparent almost immediately.

“Well, if I make Koutaro a god parent, then,” his expecting sister glances at you. “I’d have to make you one too I guess.”

Your cheeks are burnt sunset orange when Bokuto pulls you away from the kitchen saying something about homework.

“They are as lively as ever…So, your one-san is expecting? That’s something I wasn’t expecting when you told me she was gonna come home for a few months and travel back I think before she gets too far along…You an uncle? That’s also great too,” you ramble a bit. You take an opportunity to see the achievements he made with being the ace for the volleyball clubs since your move, spotting the article framed of him and his near perfect posture for a pipeline spike. 

“Bokuto,” your voice is gentle. “Why did you invite me inside?”

He places his things down at the corner of his bed before sitting on the edge of it.

“Because I missed you way more than I imagined.”

Considering you’re standing by his desk right now, you arch an eyebrow, but you shrug your shoulders. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write or call,” you confess. “I didn’t have enough time to ask for a computer at the time. I mean, I had tablets, sure, but we didn’t make it a point to trade social media.”

“Come here,” he holds your hand. You listen to him and walk toward him until you’re close enough he hugs you; a hand of yours rustles his hair. You chuckle slightly amused when he nuzzles his cheek against your torso. 

“Affectionate as always,” he hears you say. His eyes light up and he chooses to ask you something a bit bolder. 

“Mind if I do something?”

You shake your head before asking if he’s attempting to flirt with you (again).

“So what if I am,” Bokuto loves it when you tease him a bit. His lips find yours after he guides you to sit on his lap for a bit. There’s a smile you feel post him pecking your lips as he finally decides to take a chance for you both. For the boy who cares and emotes too much to find the person who inspired him to return after some time, having you return his affections meant the world to him.

So when future you had honed your skills in obtaining your degree in public relations, you stand in the press room with the rest of the rookie volleyball players from the Monster Generation, a sparkly stone shines on your finger when just a regular ace answers a question from the press.

[writingdungeon-inactive]

Cliff side talks

This takes place in Shane's 6 heart event with mentions of 2 and 4 heart scenes

FIRST THINGS FIRST - You are loved, You deserve to be safe, Eat/Drink Something, yes you can eat cake and drink jucie, its edible and makes you happy eat/drink it, Let yourself feel what you feel, ASK FOR HELP YOU NEED IT, We all need it, I needed it

Warning: A curse word or two, Self Hate, Looking over a cliff, Depression, might hit close to home, Kinda personal, Listened to Hollywood Undead “Bullet” to remind me how i felt when I married Shane the first time, loose canon, Shane has brown eyes fight me - look at this https://sdv-community.tumblr.com/post/170012882859/the-person-confused-by-his-purple-hair-here-he-has 

Walking towards the cliff where you had helped that Racoon/Tanooki thing clean up the beach under the cliff, you felt numb. You had told everyone you moved here to take over the farm after Grandpa died, that was a half-truth. Working in that cube farm of Joja’s was mentally and physically killing you, looking up only to see a camera pointed directly at you, that dull buzz of the blinking work light. You had no purpose, a twenty-something-year-old slaving away just to make enough to wake up the next day.

Yes now you lived in Pelican town and everyone was so nice, besides a few off-put people when you first moved in, but you should be happier now, right? You shouldn't be walking to the cliff just to stare down at the waves crashing into the shore, to dream about not hurting, just to chicken out and go home. No today you wouldn't chicken out, you had grown tired of the feeling you traded a cube farm job for being a lap dog for the town. No one really batted an eye at how you had cleaned up the town, and no one said anything about you fixing the bus line, it was like they loved you fixing their town but they couldn't show it for some reason.

Did you not deserve it, you must have been selfish to want more praise than a pat on the head and a "You did your job.". Hell, you have been keeping your lips shut about Lewis and the golden statue that he has, that he definitely spent town funding on. You kept your mouth shut about what you had seen in Pierre’s room, his own wife had no idea what he was hiding. Well, you were going to be selfish tonight, the rain soaking to your bone, the grass squishing under your feet. You have wanted to be selfish long before moving here, this was just a last effort and it seemed an effort lost.

As the cliffs came into focus a body lying at the edge surrounded by cans did as well. You froze for a second, no one really came out this late or hung out that close to the cliff, you thought you'd be alone. Walking closer the features became clearer, Shane. He was lying face down his shoulders and body shaking. His cries became clearer and louder as you came to stand above him. 

“F-Farmer?” You heard him weakly call looking up at you, his eyes puffy and bloodshot, his face beet red, the smell of beer somehow clinging to him not allowing the rain to wash it off. “Shane….” You said softly as you set next to him, feet dangling off the ledge of the cliff. “I…..I’m Sorry…” He cried quietly and threw hiccups. “M….My life….It’s a Pathetic joke….Look at me…” His hand came off the ground in a half-assed gesture, and his words came out of him almost like your minds had been attached, he said everything you had been thinking about yourself. “Why do I even try?” A larger sob rang out “I'm too small and stupid to…to take control of my own life…I’m just a p…piece of garbage flittering in the wind…” 

“I don't think that…” You whispered stopping yourself from reaching over to touch and play with his hair. You knew from your own thoughts though that the self-hating was tough, to be your own enemy, to tear yourself down so effortlessly. “I’ve been coming here often lately….looking down…Here’s a chance to finally take control of my life….these cliffs…” You both have been doing the same thing but you had never run into each other till now, ‘Life works that way sometimes…’ you thought looking down at the depressed man who had caught your eye.

His past words playing in your mind, that night on the dock, Shane had given you one of his beers. “You ever feel like…no matter what you do, you're gonna fail?” You had just moved to Pelican Town barely had any crops, had just stopped working in IT….The last time your hands had touched soil you were a child visiting Pelican town for ONE summer, yes every night you fell asleep to thoughts of failure and disappointment. “...Like you’re stuck in some miserable abyss and you’re so deep you can’t even see the light of day?” 

You could see Shane looking at you from the corner of your eye, how do you respond? This was an actual conversation you were having not just him telling you to leave him alone, he was opening up to you, and it felt like a cat ran away with your tongue. “I just feel like no matter how hard I try…I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole.” Bringing the beer to your mouth you began to drink maybe some liquid courage would help you tell Shane you know what he is feeling, it may not be the same, but similar. 

You didn't even register you had chugged the whole beer when Shane began to chuckle at you. “Heh… fast drinker, huh? You are after my heart aren't you.” He said lord, you were so happy your face was red from chugging or he might have caught on to your crush. “Just don’t make it a habit… You got a future ahead of you still.” The slight pain you hear in his voice and the downward look in his eyes make your heartache if only he knew. Shane had reached over and pat you on the head a few times before standing up. “Welp… My liver’s beggin’ me to stop. Better call it a night… See you around Farmer.”

Pulling yourself back into the moment you looked back down at the soaked depressed man lying next to you. “B… Bu…*blaap*... but I’m too scared, too anxious. Just like always…” A mix of sobs and belches left him in between his words. “Farmer… All I do is work, sleep, and drink…t… to dull the feelings of self-hatred…” You knew how that went, remembering the days when you'd dragged yourself to the office, worked all day, skipped lunch because you couldn't afford more than a meal a day, went home, and fell onto the couch watching whatever was on the TV, far too tired to change the channel. 

Another flashback began to take you remembering when you and Marnie had to break into his room because he had drunk himself halfway into a coma. “You wouldn’t understand…” Those words cut into you because you did understand if only you could tell Shane that yes, you get it, yes you wanna stop as well, you are just as low as he is. The cry that left Jas when Shane said “Hopefully I won’t be around long enough to need a ‘plan’...” You and Shane hadn't seen her walk in, but you both did see her run away in tears. Marnie followed her while you stayed with Shane as he began to have a panic attack.

“Why should I even go on? Tell me. T...tell me why I shouldn't roll off this cliff right now…” His cry for help breaks you out of your memory. “Shane…” You couldn't help yourself you let yourself be selfish and work your fingers into his hair. It was greasy and definitely needed to be washed but who has time for a shower when you are busy trying to get out of bed, you definitely knew what that felt like, your toothbrush being almost abandoned because you had no time really for self-care. 

"Jas needs you. You’re like a father to her…” You said brushing his hair up and out of his eyes, his brown eyes looking up at you filling with tears, he was biting his lip but you could still see it was quivering. “...You’re right… Jas… Ugh, Fuck, God….I’m a fucking horrible, *hic*... Selfish Person… Now I feel even worse…” He weakly and unsuccessfully tried to remove your hand from his hair, before giving up and leaning into your touch. 

“I’m horrible…” You whispered feeling Shane move to peek up at you, your eyes locked to the bottom of the cliff. “I was going to be selfish today… I… I don't….I’m so tired Shane…” From seeing Shane's face you knew the rain was doing nothing to hide that your eyes had begun to puff and tears ran down your cheeks, falling and getting lost in your soaked clothes. “What…” Shane said looking up at you. “I do the same thing… I come to this ledge and think about just... leaning over and falling off…” Looking down at Shane you could see surprise but also…fear? In his eyes. “I don't know how we have never run into each other…” A laugh escaped in between tiny sobs as you tried to wipe the tears away with your free hand. 

“I…I guess I… I’m tired of trying to get everyone to like me….I’m tired of giving Vincent cookies when his own mother could make them, Pam hasn't actually said thank you for me FIXING HER bus, Haley always has something to say about my appearance and it feels like she really knows how to put a person down.” It was all coming out, what you wanted to say at the docs, what you wanted to say as you held Shane and calmed him down in his room, everything you wanted to scream out over the cliff into the ocean air…just came out. 

“Farmer….I…I’m sorry…” Feeling Shane’s hand slide across your lap and grip your side, a calmness came over you, Shane saw you and you saw Shane, both of you at the bottom of a barrel with a shotgun pointed at you two. “Farmer…I think you should take me to the hospital now…” He groaned his face turning a slight green. “Oh fuck, yeah!” Helping Shane up and letting him throw an arm over your shoulder, leaning a bit on you, you both made your way, soaking wet and shivering, to Harvey's.

A split second you looked back at the ledge, who had talked who away from it, who pulled the other back to safety. Both of you, both had.

The next morning you woke up to someone at your door, and a panic had set in. It was Harvey coming to tell you Shane had finally drunk himself to death. Rushing to the door and opening it, you smiled seeing Shane standing there holding his arm where Harvey had IVed him, his eyes burning holes into his feet. “Shane…You're ok…” You said smiling softly. “Hey… Fuck…uh… How do I say this… I’m really sorry about what happened at the cliffs…. It was… embarrassing…” He said his eyes looking up to meet yours. “I’m glad I was there to help.” You said carefully reaching out to place your fingers on his hand. “...I’m glad you're here too…I…I mean…Ye-yeah, me too.” He said, blushing and laughing, looking around to save a bit of his dignity. “I… I’ve decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got me in touch with a colleague of his…I…I'll tell you how it goes… I think… I think you should try it as well.”

He was looking right into your eyes as he said you should give it a try. “I… I know I'm a pot calling the kettle black….but…I…I really want you to stay…” Your cheeks lit up, this was the first time he said something like that. “Y…Yeah…I’ll give it a shot…” You said not leaving his gaze. “You know Shane… I just woke up… Do you want to stay, and help feed the chickens?” Seeing him smile wide was all the coffee you needed today. “That sounds like a great idea.”