#yes some people are horrible yes if you ruin countless peoples lives and the ONLY WAY to stop you is to kill you then you deserve to die

[like-a-school-gymnasium]

love unfollowing someone for putting a post on my dash justifying killing people just because they are bad people and also revoking their right to be considered human bc of that.

[margindoodles2407]

you are yet to tell us your fandom-controversial takes on the corrie guard and their poor marshal commander

I require this to be rectified posthaste (take your time lol)

Ask and ye shall recieve, friend-o (I spent three days on this)

(@whyoneartheven Hola. You'll also probably want to see this)

DISCLAIMER. Hello there. I urge you, if you are currently reading this dissertation, to perhaps- either now or later- step aside to read this glorious fic, which not only changed my brain chemistry in indescribable ways but also shaped at least 90% of my perception of Fox as a person. I am contractually obligated to warn you, though. That it's a T- rated fic. And it's a hard T. There is some dark subject matter here. However. If you are okay with that. PLEASE READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OH MY FORCE GO READ IT GO READ IT NOW I AM LOSING MY MIND IT'S SO GOOD IT'S SO GOOD IT'S SO GOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3653110 (you're going to have to copy and paste the link but i swear it works)

And Now, Your Scheduled Programming.

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Commander Fox

By MarginDoodles2047

What I see in Commander Fox is a man who is, fundamentally, deeply kind.

I see a man who was once a little boy, the youngest of his batch of brothers, and with a red giant for a heart. I see a little boy whose heart was huge and warm and beautifully bright, who loved like it was breathing, who gave and gave and gave without a thought to himself. I see a boy whose heart's deepest darkest desire was to be a medic, whose hands ached to heal and not to hurt, who wanted to fix what was broken and stitch back together what was ravaged and ragged and ruined.

I see a boy who could not ever see that dream become more, because he was created to lead armies to victory, no matter how high the blood-price.

I see a youth who worked like a madman to prove himself, and whose efforts were finally rewarded with the promise that he'd never have to see the battlefield he hated so much. I see a youth ecstatic at the thought that he'd spend his days protecting, for Coruscant, the beating heart of the Republic, was his to guard and to defend. I see a youth who spent his last night on Kamino with bright, excited eyes and a giddy racing in his huge, warm, bright heart, because he, of all his brothers, the youngest, little Fox'ika, had been deemed fit to spill his blood for the Supreme Chancellor himself.

I see a man who stepped off the transport, who took his first steps onto the planet-city, hand locked in his best friend and co-Commander's, with eyes still shining and a smile that could put the ecumenopolis's own glittering brightness to shame.

I see… that smile start to fade, as the days and weeks go by.

Because I see what Fox could not, not at first: I see the decadence, the degeneracy, the decay that lay just beneath that shimmering facade. I see the minds of people from all corners of the galaxy, some noble but most twisted and corrupted, as they go about their petty lives squabbling and backrooms-dealing in the name of Democracy but really for their own gain. I see the inflated, fragile egos of countless humans and aliens who are more than willing to treat their fellow beings as objects to use and discard when they're done with them.

Most horribly, I see at the center of it all the deceptively gentle smile and cruel beady eyes of a man in blood-red robes, who spins this web of corruption and abuse around him like a very patient spider that finds himself delighted to have caught a very earnest and very naive white-and-crimson-armored beetle right in the center of it.

I see a man who finds his entire world ripped out from under his feet, yet still a man who tries to make the best out of a bad situation for weeks. I see a man who fights back against every snide comment, every attempted backhanded slap, every derogatory sneer of Clone, with the fire from his red-giant heart flaring in his eyes and burning in his voice, yet who- increasingly exhaustedly- turns nothing but his innate kindness and warmth and empathy on his terrified younger brothers, despite being terrified himself. I see a man who is so determined to be cheerfully rebellious, even to the face of the most powerful man in the Galaxy---

But when he holds the broken, badly-concussed body of his best friend and right-hand man, the body of a brother beaten and battered and barely-alive as a punishment for his defiance, I see a man who resolves then and there that as long as he is Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, no one but he will take the blows and the bruises and the fractures and the insults and the absolute hell that is the Senate.

I see a man whose heart is huge and warm and whose beautifully bright light is flickering and sputtering like a dying candle, who loves like it's breathing, who gives and gives and gives without a thought to himself.

I see him give his body to the blows and the slaps and the throwing and the names. I see him give his gentleness, his comfort, his protection to his brothers. I see him give everything he has to make sure the politicians' attentions are on him and never on his Guardsmen.

I see the sweet little boy get buried under layers of callouses, to be dug out only for the suffering men he's sworn himself to protect. I see him cut himself off from his batch-brothers, firstly because he feels they'd never understand or believe him and secondly, because he doesn't want that spider of a man to have any more leverage over him than he already does-- because I see a beskar will that only one person can bend and twist like taffy, I see a man hewn from marble that only one person can toy with like a marionette on a string.

I see once-dark curls shock themselves full of silver and once-bright eyes go dim and dull and sunken. I see too-sharp cheekbones and a once-smooth young face get violently gashed in half from eyebrow to mouth-corner, just because. I see black eyes and deep hematomas expertly hidden under layers of drugstore concealer and violent electric burns expertly hidden under the layers of his armor. I see the scars that are tokens of thoughtless cruelty and deliberate torture alike.

I see a man who spends his nights on Coruscant with exhausted, weepy eyes and a panicked racing in his shrinking, cooling, flickering heart, because he, of all his brothers, the oldest, Commander Fox, has been deemed fit to spill his blood for the Supreme Chancellor himself.

(I see, one particularly bad night, a glass of something dark and burning. Over time, I see that glass turn into two glasses. Then a bottle. Then three bottles. Then five bottles and a sobbing, heartbroken man slumped over his cluttered desk- a man who dried to drown his terror and his grief but instead finds himself drowning in them and a sea of cheap Correllian alcohol.)

I see it all, and I see it… go unnoticed, because what the Senate, the Media, the Public, sees is a perfect, polished Marshal Commander whose black-brown and silver curls have never a hair out of place, whose bleak eyes can hold perfect and even intense contact with those of their focus, whose sharp split face is nonetheless clean-shaven and unblemished and even- in its own macabre way- handsome when it's not hidden under his helmet, whose bruises and scars are rendered invisible and whose hands never shake and whose never-raised voice is measured and even and soft and always, always, polite.

Fox is not the only one I see, though. I see Command Batch, increasingly concerned regarding little Foxy's clipped, too-polite monosyllables and terse responses. I especially see Wolffe and Cody, angrily sad and deeply worried, respectively, about the change that has come over their vod'ika. I see Rex's relationship with Fox grow cold and distant and strained for reasons he's not entirely able to fathom. I see Thorn, worrier that he is, the only one able to really get through to his superior, his best friend, his brother, the only one who knows the extent of the wreck that Fox has become. I see the Guardsmen, from the oldest surviving veteran to the freshest most innocent shiny, ready to die for their Marshal Commander because he's the only one who makes them not want to die from the torture that is their job.

I see the Chancellor, who really doesn't care about him, because, in the grand scheme of things, he's nigh-inconsequential to his master plan, yet who keeps him around because isn't it fun to have one person on whom he can inflict all the mental and physical and spiritual torture he likes, because he has no safe space or confidante that could protect him? One person he can tell that plan to because he has no one to tell and stop the coming darkness? One person who can know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who the Dark Lord of the Sith is, because even if he did have someone to tell, who would believe that the kind, soft-spoken, grandfatherly Chancellor, who's so respectful of all his troops and fights so hard for the rights of the GAR, could possibly be the great evil behind the entire war?

I see Commander Fox.

I see a man who was once a little boy, the youngest of his batch of brothers, and with a red giant for a heart. I see a little boy whose heart was huge and warm and beautifully bright, who loved like it was breathing, who gave and gave and gave without a thought to himself. I see a boy whose heart's deepest darkest desire was to be a medic, whose hands ached to heal and not to hurt, who wanted to fix what was broken and stitch back together what was ravaged and ragged and ruined.

I see a man whose red giant heart is breaking, bursting at the seams. I see a man who still loves like it's breathing, who still gives and gives and gives without a thought to himself, but whose breathing is turning asthmatic and whose well to give from is by no means infinite. I see a man who still, in his heart of hearts, is trying to be a medic, trying to play doctor to a division that is horribly broken and fumbling with his own mangled hands to stitch back together a division that is ravaged and rugged and ruined almost beyond repair.

I see Commander Fox, and he's running out of time.

[monstermaster13]

Corey and Oats in…

Deviantart Verse Anniversary Adventure

It was a very special day for Corey and Oats, because it was the 14th anniversary of Mel’s very first debut on Deviantart and that morning Mel got up in the morning and smiled as she got everything ready, they got out of bread and had breakfast, and were very excited.

“You look very excited.”

“Yeah, today must be a special day for all of us.”

“Yes, it is the 14th anniversary of my Deviantart adventures and I want to do something special.”

“Can I help?”

“Sure, Piff.”

After breakfast Piff floated over to the bedbox along with Mel, Corey, and Oats and used some magic to conjure up a special anniversary adventure for them - which involved the world of Mel’s stories coming to life through the computer, every story Mel had ever created had come to life.

“This is amazing.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The magic conjured up a museum dedicated to all the eras of Mel’s Deviantart experience, and they all entered the museum. The first era they visited was the original era of 2009-2011, the era that Nathan who was Mel’s friend now hated because of how he got made fun for doing characters that were supposed to be parodic. ‘Who is this big guy in the portrait here, mommy?’ Oats asked. ‘That’s Chumsley, he was a werejohncandy character that Nathan pretended to be for a while, there is a whole complicated troll related storyarc for this but it is not canon.’

‘You mean he never posed as a woman and joined one of those A-Logging obsessed cultist organizations?’ ‘That was canon only in their universe and not hours.’ ‘What about Natalie?’ ‘She was real, she was an actress who was forced to be in countless not-even-worth-a-letter-grade-at-all movies and shows that these groups made.’

‘Yes, I remember the chimera that we defeated as one of our very first major enemies.’ ‘And those evil people that trapped Lil Andria and that Natalie chick in a bad fanfic.’ ‘Yes, those were our first villain encounters.’

Mel explained that before she had met Corey, the original group consisted of her, Eucalyptus, Soo, Nathan and Matthias/Werebelushi In The Shades and that she had met Oats after he ran away from his old home to find a new place to live. She also explained before Nathan discovered an identity he liked he used to have a weregrinch online universe persona named Growler. ‘What happened to him?’ ‘He got his own spin-off, but he is still here.’ ‘What about that Jay Leno lookalike with the cape and long hair?’ ‘He was part of the cast for a while but eventually he left after he got involved in that cultist drama as well.’ ‘Those cultists must have been really messed up.’

‘Oh yes, diaper fetishists, machine fetishists, people who do horrible things with dolls. Whole cults dedicated to picking out who their next victim is, constant death-threats, hacking attempts and even having serial killers as members.’ ‘How they were allowed online to begin with?’ ‘Beats me, there’s at least one for every online universe. All I know is that the ones we encountered were from a joke universe.’

‘They remind me of those villains we battled too. Like those gross clown freaks, the villain that you battled as a plus sized otaku supervillain, and that stupid Jingo-Hog.’ ‘Yes, those guys are very messed up too and nearly ruined a perfectly awesome online adventure.’

Oats turned away as he saw a sad scene playing on the screen, it showed Nathan’s body/form being hacked and destroyed by the cultists and nearly dying. ‘Mommy, I do not like this scene.’ ‘It’s okay, because he got better.’ ‘He did?’ ‘Why yes he did.’

The next scene showed Nathan regenerating and morphing into a new form and a new body, and going through several different avatar forms including an anthro Smeargle, Simon Cowell, Rowan Atkinson (more than a few different characters of his, plus him in general), John Belushi, Megamind, Sly Stallone, Glenn Shadix (both as the Mayor and Otho), and finally Christopher Walken, Danny Trejo, and David Bowie along with Dan Aykroyd.

They all cheered as they came into the 2012-2016 area where Nathan was back in full form and new characters popped up, Corey jeered at some of the villains that popped up like ‘The Rubber/Clown Fetishist’ and ‘The Two-Faced Self Insert Character’ and cheered for Mel and the heroes, and Mel explained she used to be afraid of Russell Brand because at the time Russell was a villain who was stalking her, but now the two of them were very good friends.

Mel even introduced everyone to Chris, the alpha Walken who had gotten his very own spin-off and his own vampire coven in recent years and talked about the ‘Hall of TFs’ which showed all the transformations Nathan and her had both done over those years - there was a special section for all the friends they both had at the time. Except one, and that was because that character wasn’t an actual cast member or member of their group and was just a character who showed up for a whole different saga all-together, Mel explained as best she could that this character was an alien posing as a younger human who acted as a guest supporting character to Nathan and that they quit after a couple of seasons and went all the way back to their homeworld.

After that they stopped for some snacks before heading to the 2017-present section, which had all of Nathan and Mel’s friends there greeting them including Justin, Liam, Andria, Brandon, Adam Hughes, Angelina, and several others and at this point the ‘hero and villain’ groups had started out with a handful of villains for Mel to fight - of course the original villain group for Mel consisted of Lem, Adalind (from Grimm), Kirk Langstrom, Jerry Dandrige, Sithius (the evil version of her boyfriend), Demona, Ben Willis, Skeksil, Donald Trump, Butch and Cassidy, Amilyn, Sammi Kurr, and several others.

Mel explained before Corey - her companion who would go with Oats was Ratty, who later did end up joining the hero team as a member and becoming a Nile Road resident. They had some lunch before they went through another exhibit in the museum.

In this exhibit it focused all about Mel and her relationship with Lithius along with her friends and her adventures as the destined heroine of the ‘Monster World’, now that some Monster World creator characters were no longer good to her she decided she could correct what they had done wrong and be a hero. A screen showed a scene with her and a redeemed Russell Brand hugging each-other.

This was followed by the arrival of the Trump ducks who came in as valuable supporting characters during the Trump presidency era - and Trumpy Cat who of course became close friends with Oats and Corey, Mel got all teary eyed as she showed them all a memorial room.

The memorial room was dedicated to her former ‘support’ cast members who had left or had passed away, including one who was a big inspiration to her - Heather, and one who bonded with her - named ‘Vera’. ‘Did you like working with these cast members, mommy?’ ‘Yes Oatsie. I did.’

A tragic scene played on the screen depicting the final appearance of Mel’s father ‘James’, and Corey began to understand why she was getting all emotional about it. After a scene showing what seemed like a while of Jill trying to find someone to help take care of Mel, it showed another world on the screen, the world depicted was of the home Mel once occupied before moving to Nile Road.

‘Did you like this home, mommy?’ ‘It was nice but it was not to my liking.’ ‘I can understand that. I felt sad when I was there too.’ At the end of the 2019 exhibit of the museum there was a new exhibit depicting the current life of Mel and her friends, starting with a movie which was about her moving to Nile Road with Oats. Mel showed them all the Nile Road exhibit and told them how she didn’t like joining at first or even like the idea of it, but she grew to like it and made many new friends.

Initially it was just staying for a couple of days or even a week but that all altered and changed. When they reached the present day era there was a whole section introducing Corey Covid (and the giant microbe gang) to the cast along with Oats’s unicorn family, which was later followed by the addition of several new pals - and Aiyido the beholder joined as a new cast-member. Initially Corey started as a companion to Ratty at Rosemary Avenue but the covid microbe found himself befriending Oats and going on many adventures.

Which was followed by the introduction to the Mushabellies as part of the cast even though they (along with the beanie babies) were the original groups of friends that resided with Mel, and the introduction of the palm pals - followed by the introduction of the Snackles.

Then came the many new supporting cast members in the form of the Nile Road ladies, quite a few of the ladies were added to the memorial area such as Anne Marie, Neive, Cathy, Jess, Becka, and Ysa. But there was a section dedicated to Belinda who had become Mel’s new permanent supporting cast member.

There was an exhibit themed around the Dan Aykroyd transformations and the Were-Aykroyd lore which explained the many different versions of the Aykroydverse including the Dum Dum Were-Aykroyd verse, as posters advertising feature length presentations of the ‘Were-Aykroyd’ adventures and the ‘Dum Dum Were-Aykroyd Saga’ were shown.

It showed Mel and Nathan joining a group of Aykroyd fans in the Discord universe who all loved their work, Mel said she wished she could have been kept on longer but she got removed from the cast roster of that universe when she was framed by Teppum Teh Putrid, a villain that Corey and Oats had battled and defeated.

This was followed by the addition of a new permanent supporting cast member in the form of Anglo the anglerfish as well as a lot of new squishmallow pals - including Anglo and his group which formed a squishmallow group called the ‘Under the Sea Squad’.

The screen showed Mel with one of her latest friends Serena, and there was an ‘in memoriam’ video of her friend Christine - who had a whole room in the memorial section dedicated to her. Mel smiled as she recalled how she and Serena first met, bonding over deceased celebrities they missed and felt bad for him, in particular Glenn Shadix.

There was a special section dedicated to a special supporting character of hers who helped her deal with the problems she had with some of her ‘in-show-only’ enemies. They all had lunch before entering a room introducing the newest members of their group of friends, which included the best room of all.

The best room of all was all about Piff being introduced as a cast member, Piff initially could only just say his own name like a Pokemon but he learned how to speak English and he developed his own personality, that of a silly and cheeky puffer who loved to make people laugh. And he was flirty, he considered himself a romantic.

Piff laughed as he saw a movie of himself in all of his disguises like his K-Pop boy band member attire, sumo wrestler outfit, his samurai outfit, his favorite kimono, a Godzilla costume, and even in drag as a geisha. ‘Piff, you are a very talented fish.’

“So what do you guys think of this museum?”

“Oh Mel, it certainly is really interesting.”

“It is interesting to learn all about adventures you have been one.”

‘Yeah, even before I came along.’ Corey exclaimed. ‘We have learned so much about you and what it was like for you.’ ‘Yeah, you have lots of interesting companions you have worked with.’ ‘And I never knew you were part of so many online universes.’ ‘You did Blues Brothers, Final Fantasy, Simpsons, Animal House, and South Park fan scripts too? Did those ever get to be made.’ ‘They did but I lost them.’

A movie showed Wailleo the beluga whale performing Nessun Dorma in concert, performing with the ghost of Luciano Pavorroti. ‘Now that is one gifted whale.’ ‘Whales are naturally gifted at singing.’

They all cheered as they saw all their recent adventures being portrayed on the screen, Corey and Oats both had afternoon tea as they celebrated all of Mel’s achievements. And in this area of the museum they saw that Mel’s hero and villain teams both had formed into the ones they knew today and they all had a good time.

After their museum tour was finished they bought some gifts at the gift-shop and hugged Mel, they left the museum and used some magic from the bedbox to teleport themselves back to Nile Road, and they all told their friends.

Piff told everyone about how fun the museum was and how much he learned about Mel’s history in the Deviantart universe and how she had come along since what was known as the ‘Drmusic2’ era. ‘No matter what the content, no matter what the adventure, she is always there for us.’ ‘And we are all glad.’

They all sat down and relaxed before having dinner and celebrating, and Oats smiled as he thanked Mel for the adventure. ‘And to celebrate, we should all have drinks.’ ‘Oh alright Piff you can do it.’ ‘Great! Champagne, champagne for everyone!’ Piff exclaimed.

Piff had some champagne and poured some for his friends as they all bonded over what they thought was a brilliant adventure - they emailed Jill afterwards and they all had a lovely time. They had a celebratory karaoke session with all of the family members joining in with the singing.

After their karaoke session was finished and they all went to the bedroom to get ready for bed, Oats put on a pink night-gown and Corey put on his bat pajamas as Piff put on his sleeping kimono.

They all brushed their teeth before jumping into bed and picking out friends to snuggle up with, they all thanked Mel for the adventure as Piff turned off the light and everyone said good night, once they drifted off to sleep they all had sweet dreams. In Piff’s dream he dreamed he was in the museum with Tangie the orange and green fish and he was eating sea-weed cakes with her and cuddling her and kissing her.

And so their adventure had come to an end but more are coming up, so stay tuned.

[blzzrdstryr]

Alone together

Yandere!Dainsleif x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2011

CW: Yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, PTSD

Khaenri’ah burns. Skies turn red, as tall pillars of smoke arise in the place of ruined towers. People cry and beg and scream.

“Ah, [First] , you came to help” Lisa greets you, waking up from her half-slumbering state: “Welcome, welcome. I already made some tea for you, just let me”. The librarian stretches and yawns akin to a cat, after she stands up from the counter, flashing you one of her charming smiles afterwards: “Go and fetch it. We will work after the tea”.

Something in her voice leaves no room for argument, so you sit at the offered table, eyes immediately shifting to the nearby window, mostly out of habit. Skies are blue and clear, buildings are whole and steady, people are laughing and cheering outside. It’s a sight that brings you heartache and comfort at the same time - no one should be subjected to what you had to live through, whether they worship the seven or not.

“And here it is”, the witch says, holding a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and a plate of cupcakes resting on top of it. The next fifteen minutes are spent drinking and carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular: Lisa is an excellent company, adept at maintaining the conversation interesting and atmosphere comfortable, her wide array of knowledge and keen intellect keeping you on your toes throughout the exchange despite the advantage of experience you happen to possess.

The brief tea party is then followed by the shared work of deciphering ancient documents, the librarian sometimes turns to you asking for the meaning of one word or another - most of the texts are written in Khaenri’ahn or archaic forms of the modern languages.

She doesn’t pry why you happen to possess such intrinsic knowledge on the long dead language, nor does she ask anything about your star-shaped pupils - she must have seen the descendants of your compatriots, then. You know there live at least two - one with tan skin and a warm smile that never reaches his cold eyes and a blonde youth with the powers of khemia rolling under his palms. There’s no courage to approach them.

You in turn share Khaenri’ah’s greatest legacy - knowledge and science that helped your nation to outpace the deities and turn them against you. It’s a nice feeling - making sure that the thing your people cherished the most will not be forgotten, even if it’s given to archon worshippers. Five centuries ago the thought of educating Teyvatians would be laughable to you - there’s no use in it, they will continue to believe in their gods - you would dismiss it, but now nationless you have no choice but to do it - it’s the only way to keep the products of your people alive. To keep the memory of your people alive.

Khaenri’ah burns. You run across the collapsing city, eyes growing wider as you see people slowly morphing into something. It’s bestial and feral, primitive. Your breath hitches, you want to scream.

“[First]?”, it’s Lisa again, she lightly taps your shoulder, a hint of concern creeps into her voice

“Ah? Everything is fine, I just zoned off” you reply, too quickly and too strained to be believable. Who could have known that even after five hundred years the flashbacks of what happened on that day will still haunt you? They trail your thoughts like determined hounds, sneaking up on you in the most inopportune times. One moment you are talking to someone, the second you relive the fall of Khaenri’ah. The memory feels too real to be a fantasy, leaving your thoughts messy, anxious and disordered, as you shake and try to calm yourself.

“Are you sure?”, she stands up from her seat and makes a couple of quick steps to you, taking a good look at your face: you must look horrible, you think, those episodes always leave you panting and on the verge of panic.

“Maybe we should continue tomorrow, there’s no use in haste, it’s not like our documents will run away”, Lisa continues, massaging circles into your shoulder - her hand is warm and comforting, grounding. You want to thank her for this - the understanding tone and the way she caresses you right now, helping you to keep the link with reality, but the words get stuck in your throat - it’s too much and too scary, to admit what just has happened not only to her, but to yourself too.

“Yes”, you finally force out of yourself, nodding along the way: “it would be for the better”. Your voice is still too tense and strained, filled with the grief for the people and places long past, but Lisa, to your relief, doesn’t point out any of it. You quickly gather your belongings and leave the library, almost forgetting to bid a farewell to the witch as you exit.

The sun begins to set as you make your way to the rented house, it’s small and nondescript, a complete opposite of the one you had in Liyue. You used to work as a scholar in the harbor before He found you again - you fled your spacious and cozy apartments in less than a day, leaving almost all of your possessions behind.

The thoughts of what had happened still buzz in your mind - you want to scream and cry, you want to vent to someone, but the words you will utter will be in pure khaenri’ahn they won’t understand you.

You think of finally approaching that star-eyed cavalry captain, Kaeya, maybe he saw what you witnessed too. You think of Albedo, who carries the same energy all khaenri’ahn constructs do. You want to ask him about his creator, you want to talk with him about Khemia. You think of Barbatos who wears the form of the cheerful bard, you want to accuse and scream and hit him.

You do nothing as the power leaves your body the same second - it’s scary, so scary to verbalize that, to talk and share and relive, and approaching any of those three means doing exactly so.

You stay inside instead, calming your beating heart and kicking out intrusive thoughts, and only when your pulse returns to the norm you allow yourself to finally stand up. The world is shaky and unreliable, but some things stay the same. Your room for example - you have a habit of leaving things in specific places, as a way to keep you grounded. There’s a comfort in familiarity - the one you desperately need.

Your eyes shift from one object to the other, until they stumble across something that sends your heart racing again. The cup you use is shifted by a couple of inches, facing you by the opposite side, there’s a flower and a note lying beside it. The words are in khaenri’ahn, the handwriting is familiar too.

Khaenri’ah burns. Your lungs do too from the sheer overexertion and fatigue, but you keep pushing further and further - you can’t give up yet, not when He needs you. A name forms on your lips.

Thousand of thoughts form in your mind, they’re panicked, fast and disjointed - flee again, cut and dye your hair, change the name too - you can start over in Inazuma again, it’s a closed country, so if you will manage to get in, it will be harder for him to track you again.

Who are you kidding?

Unlike you, he has a core of steel, an unwavering determination to settle things his way or die trying - be it opposing Celestia or gaining you. It was always like that, with the Twilight sword being stubborn to a fault - he never budged or surrendered, not when Khaenri’ah was still proudly standing, and not now, when there’s nothing but the charred remains of your homeland.

You met him when you got accepted into the Royal order, where a Konungr paired you with Him. The twilight sword was unrelenting in his pursuits even then, a trait that you both admired and feared in equal volume. The collapse of your nation only worsened this quality - if back then he was striving to supervise and oversee everything, then the tragedy exacerbated his controlling tendencies even further.

You were travelling together for the first fifty years after the fall, both affected by the same curse, as he started getting possessive. It began in innocuous things: asking where you were, what you were doing, you didn’t pay much attention back then, celestial wrath still fresh in your memory - he was just cautious you told yourself, it’s a safety measure.

But then these safety measures grew from simply inquiring about your day to accompanying you almost everywhere, and then it all culminated in Him locking you up, to keep you away from leaving.

You escaped then, and avoided him ever since, departing your residence the second you caught the wind of his possible proximity. Years turned into decades that later morphed into centuries, and you began to grow lax - he was getting closer and closer to you with each turn. The first time you had a suspicion of him being near you packed your things the same second and spent countless days traversing the land by hidden passageways, careful not to leave any traces, and now, now you still sit in your house, despite having evidence of him knowing where you are.

Maybe you grew tired of the cat and mouse game, maybe you just accepted that your recapture is inevitable and all your little escapes do nothing, but set it off for a couple of months, or maybe you’re just that lonely. It doesn’t matter, really, as you make no attempt to do anything - it’s useless, he already knows your location.

Khaenri’ah burns. You cry and you hate yourself - for weakness, for helplessness, for still being alive and sane. He stays near you as a silent shadow, his blue eyes shifting from your crying face to the wreckage of the city. There are no words shared between you that day - you’re crushed and empty, yet bare and aching at the same time.

“Dainsleif”, you greet him, once you hear the squeak of the opening door. He doesn’t look that different from five hundred years ago, but now his eyes are both more tired and alive with fervent light.

“[First]”, he simply replies, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer - there’s adoration and worship in his tone. He almost falls to his knees, as he takes your hands in his, capturing them in a steel trap.

“[First], I finally have you, [first]”, he murmurs, bringing your palm to his face. You don’t resist him, knowing it’s futile. His skin feels just like all those years ago - rough and dry, weathered down by the demanding lifestyle he leads. He gives a shy peck to your inner wrist, blue eyes intently watching you as he does so.

“Long time no see, Dain”, you start, trying to diffuse the tension in the air, as he grabs you by the chin and forces you into a kiss. He kisses with the desperation of a dying person, one of his hands firmly holding your head, the other starts to explore your body. It feels obscene. You are lightheaded, when he finally parts and hugs you again, still chanting “[First]” over and over again.

You allow him this liberty too, feeling a prick of pity in your heart. You know what it is - to be the sole survivor, too see your own people crumble and fall and transform. You know that he returns to that place again and again, reliving the same moment against his will. You know that he gasps and shivers when the memories get too real and overwhelming.

You both are children of the fallen nation, and there's no person in the world who could understand you better than he does. Maybe, you shouldn't have run, you think, listening to Dainsleif speak in Khaenri’ahn. There's a chain of connection between you two, it's unbreakable, forged in shared losses, tears and pain.

Khaenri’ah burns. It burns in both of you.

[simpingforsoftboys]

The Odds of Us All

Chapter 2 Pt 5/5: Food & Tea- But Not The Drink Kind

It was finally lunch time, Y/n was more than ready to leave her classroom and head to the twins class. Saying goodbye to some of her new friends, she departed from class 2-5 and headed down the hallway to class 2-3. While she was in college prep, the twins and Suna were in the other classes below her. The girl didn’t hold it against them, some people were made for different fields- academics didn’t define anything besides a persons academic intelligence. 

Several people stared after her as she walked, everyone was intrigued with the new transfer student who was the soulmate of Itachiyama’s star ace and the cousin of Shiratorizawa’s famous Ushiwaka. It got on her nerves at first but she got used to the attention eventually. If she was rude to her “fans” then it’d look bad on Sakusa and Wakatoshi.

“Ushijima-san!” Someone called after her, stopping her in her tracks, Y/n turned and looked over at the person. It was a first year from class 1-2, if she remembered correctly he was in her “fan club.” (Honestly she was a little flattered at how fast she gained a following here, back at Nekoma it took her a whole two weeks before some classmates formed one for her.) “I was wondering if you would be willing to accept this... I made it just for you!” She was about to thank him for the horribly wrapped bento, when someone decided to stop her. 

“Y/n.” Suna said from across the hallway, phone in hand, “come on we’re eating outside.” He gave the first year a deadpan, daring him to speak, Y/n smiled apologetically at him, thanking him for the bento and accepting it. The first year hurried away, but not without a pleased blush coating his cheeks. “Told you- you’re Ms. Popular.”

“Maybe... but it doesn’t really matter.” Y/n replied, tucking the bento into her satchel. “It’s always been this way, but not for the reasons you might think.” Seeing her soulmates inquisitive gaze she continued. “I mean maybe they start genuinely liking me eventually, but initially they follow me around and try to befriend me in an effort to know about all the drama in my life. Having a famous cousin and soulmate does that to you. Oh- but I’m sure you deal with it too- I mean you and the twins are famous on the volleyball scene for a reason.”

Suna hummed noncommittally, pocketing his phone and shoving his hands in his pockets with it. “I get it- people only want to get to know me cuz of the twins or my looks... but I don’t really pay attention to them... neither do Atsumu or Osamu.” He gave her a side glance. “You shouldn’t either, people like that just aren’t worth the energy.” 

“You make a good point Suna- but I can’t. I got to make a good impression for them. Oh wow, Inarizaki sure has everything doesn’t it?” They were in the schools private garden, it was a large plot of land- with rows or fresh vegetables and countless beds of flowers- Y/n could even spot several wisteria trees. “I think it’s even prettier than Itachiyama’s greenhouse.”

“Itachiyama? I thought ya went to Nekoma.” Atsumu asked, popping up in front of her. Osamu walked over to them, they had just arrived too. 

Y/n nodded, “Hi Atsumu, Osamu; I did, but I was initially planning on going to Itachiyama- I toured the campus, passed the entrance exams and everything too. But my friends went to Nekoma so I followed.” Osamu said ‘hi’ in response.

“Interesting.” Atsumu said, his mischievous smirk never leaving his face. “Hey follow me will ya?” He grabbed her hand gently, leading her to a round, stone picnic table below the wisteria trees, leaving Osamu and Suna to trail after them. 

“There he goes.” Suna whispered, earning a sigh in response from the gray haired twin. “So touchy... surprised no one reported him for harassment yet.”

“I’d thank 'em if they did.” Osamu huffed with an eye roll. “Maybe then he would learn ta keep his hands ta himself.” The four of them settled at the table, Atsumu on Y/n’s left, Osamu to her right, and Suna in front of her. 

“Y/n got a bento from a first year earlier.” The brunette gossiped (but in his weird deadpan way), he hid a grin at the matching scowls the twins wore. “Hey Y/n what did you think of him?” 

“He was sweet.” She pulled the bento out and plopped it on the table. “But I’m not going to eat it- he’s still a stranger and I’m not the type to eat food from just anyone.” She didn’t notice the glances the three shared at her words.

“What if I made it?” The younger Miya muttered, staring at the h/c (hair color) girl. Atsumu did his best to hide his snort- meanwhile Suna subtly recorded the moment. 

“Oh? Well you’re not just anyone are you?” Her words seemed flirtatious, but in actuality she was just being genuinely blunt. “I wouldn’t mind if it were you.” Let’s just say Suna was very glad he was recording- because the pink hue that overtook Osamu’s cheeks was HILARIOUS. 

“Good, cuz I made ya some f/f (favorite food).” Osamu pulled an expertly wrapped bento from his bag and placed it in front of Y/n, who looked pleasantly surprised at his kind gesture. 

“Look at him flirtin- almost as good as me. I’m so proud.” Atsumu grinned, not the least bit jealous (shockingly). “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Not you getting a big head over this.” Suna teased, earning himself a mean scowl. “If it were you, Y/n would have said no... maybe even eaten that first years bento instead.” 

“Ya know I’m startin to think ya spend too much time with ‘Samu.”

“Heh.”

Y/n took a bite of the food, meanwhile Osamu watched her from the corner of his eye- pretending to be occupied with his own serving of f/f. Her e/c orbs widened as her tastebuds registered the burst of flavor that was overtaking them. The entire dish was seasoned to the point of near perfection- of course there was some fault, but that was probably due to Osamu’s inexperience with this specific food. Even if it wasn’t a first for him, this was still some of the best damn f/f she had ever tasted. It was tempting to scarf it all down at once, but she forced herself to savor the taste. 

“So... how is it?” All eyes were on her, each of them eager to see what she thought of Osamu’s cooking. 

“You cooked this by yourself?” She questioned, swiveling to the right to look at the younger twin. Osamu nodded, fidgeting ever so slightly.

“Yeah... m’sorry if it’s not that good- was my first attempt at makin’ f/f.” 

Shaking her head and placing her chopsticks down, Y/n smiled at him cheerily. “When you told me you could cook I was expecting something like a simple tamagoyaki- but this is what it’s like when you’re just experimenting? Miya Osamu you are seriously talented- this is some of the best f/f I’ve had in a long while- and I eat this a lot.” 

“Thanks so much, means a lot-” Osamu began, a small, genuine smile slipping on his face.

“IDHOISA Y/n yer so cute! Can’t believe I thought ya were a total jerk on Twitter-” 

“How tf did he say that out loud?” Suna wondered, referring to the verbal version of a keyboard smash.

“NO I WAS HOPING YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT TWEET.” Y/n screeched, appalled at the expected- but completely unwelcome- news.

“Pfftt-” The brunette snorted at her expense.

“TSUMU YA RUINED THE MOMENT YA ASSHOLE!”

“OW- THE HELL? YA WANNA FIGHT SAMU?”

To put it simply it was pure chaos, their chances at a peaceful lunch completely dashed. For the rest of the lunch break the twins argued, meanwhile Suna live streamed their idiocy, and Y/n enjoyed the chaos while simultaneously savoring her delicious meal...

Facts/Trivia

Y/n was actually pretty popular in Nekoma- but it took a good two weeks before she had her own fan club

So majority of her fan club actually liked her for who she was as a person and not because of her cousin

Her new Inarizaki fanclub is not like her Nekoma one

This club was only formed because people want to get to know her in order to meet Sakusa and Wakatoshi

Some people like first year kun are apart of it because they think she’s attractive

Yes some girls left Atsumu’s fanclub in order to simp for Y/n

Atsumu may not care for his fans but he does like the attention 💀

Any peace between the twins is ruined because Atsumu can’t stfu

Osamu and Atsumu are actually pretty good at sharing and not getting jealous over partners

Suna never helps stop fights

Good thing Y/n’s here now

Fyi the ramen incident is filed on Osamu’s highschool record 😭

It took all of Atsumu’s willpower to not ask Y/n to be their manager when she talked about cheering for him

Series Masterlist

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*send ASK to be added; BOLD means I’m unable to tag you

[auburnaudry]

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 4:

A/N: I’m so happy so many people like this series because I really didn’t expect anyone to read it. So if you are following along thank you!!!!! Also I love happy endings so if anyone is worried this entire thing is going to be angsty... it’s not lol!

<—Previous Chapter Next Chapter—>

Summary: You finally are given the entire story of what happened between Matthew and your best friend.

Word count: 2393 words

You woke up feeling extremely tired. Reign was up all throughout the night which you chalked up to the new environment and the fact that he wasn’t in his own crib. You were surprised to see him still asleep when you looked over to check on him, he must have tired himself out from all the crying.

You weren’t sure what woke you, but now that you were up and the baby was still sleeping, you figured you would check your phone. You still hadn’t turned it on since the night before.

As the apple sign faded and your background appeared, the notifications started flooding in. 36 missed calls from Matthew along with 41 text messages. Right below Matt’s name was Kaylee’s. You had 102 missed calls from your best friend along with 12 voicemail and a countless number of texts.

They must know they really fucked up. You also had 3 missed calls from your mom and 10 new messages. You figured Matthew or Kaylee had reached out and asked her to get a hold of you.

Your were quick to call you mother back.

“Hello”

“Hi mom” you started but couldn’t hold back the sob that followed.

“Oh honey what happened” she started but knew you couldn’t respond until you caught you breathe so she continued “Matty called me last night and said there was a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t returning his calls, so he wanted me to check and make sure you and the baby were okay” she paused “are you okay?” She waited patiently until you were ready to talk. You started to relax and recompose yourself after breathing through the sobs.

“He is a complete asshole” you never cursed in front of your mom but your emotions got the best of you and you were sure she understood. After the breakup and during your pregnancy, she had some choice words for him as well.

“He shows up to my house after his date goes to shit and expects me to pick up the pieces and fix it. Then the next day he doesn’t even show to pick up Reign at our scheduled time” you start to ramble but couldn’t stop yourself.

“So I drive over to Kaylee’s to ask her what I should do and try and see if she could get a hold of him. I guess I was partially right about the fact that she could get a hold of him because when I got there, HE answered HER door” you paused “HALF NAKED” you yelled the last part because it really enraged you, the idea of him and your best friend doing inappropriate things together.

“Sweetheart, I spoke to him on the phone last night at great lengths” you rolled your eyes because your mom was gullible and would believe anything anyone told her. Matthew could have told her that he purchased property on the moon and she would 100% buy it.

“He told me you caught him in a compromising position but it wasn’t like that at all” she paused and waited for a response. When she didn’t receive one she continued “I think you should talk to him, hear him out”

“Why? so he can make up some excuse and tell me I’m overreacting and then I will forgive him and everything will go back to the way it was?.” You didn’t mean to get snippy with your mom but you were so angry with the situation.

“And what if I don’t want things to go back to the way they were? I hate sharing custody.” Your mother then cut you off.

“Honey he is the father of your child, it’s not fair to him or to Reign for you to prevent them from seeing each other” she sounded worried that you might never let Matthew see Reign again.

“That not what I mean.” You paused “I love him mom and I want to be a real family with him, I hate that our son has to split time between us.” You weren’t really sure why you were confessing all you feelings to your mom but you no longer had a best friend to turn to at the moment. “But he has to go a ruin everything, just like he always does”

“I think you really just need to talk to him and hear him out y/n/n.” Your mom was always right but you weren’t ready to admit that just yet.

As you pondered her words, Reign started to stir.

“Alright Reigns waking up I gotta go” you told her as you walked over to his pop up crib.

“Ok sweetie, call me later love you”

“Love you too” and with that you hung up and tossed your phone on the bed.

You picked up your son and got into a comfortable feeding position on the bed. You were now tired of hiding in a hotel room and also running out of the things you needed to properly care for your baby.

So when you finished feeding Reign you packed everything back up into the diaper bag and made your way to check out.

You decided you would go back to your apartment and just hope and pray that neither Matthew or Kaylee were there waiting. But as you walked through the front door of your home, you found that your prayers were most definitely not answered.

Matt was asleep on your couch clutching his phone tight to his chest. You tried you best to be as quite as possible but Reign started to cry and you knew it was no use.

Matt’s eyes shot open and he hopped up from his spot on the couch. You held your hand up indicating that you didn’t want him to come any closer.

“I’m going to go change Reign’s diaper and put him in his crib, then we can talk” he nodded in response, careful not to push his luck. You walked to Reign’s room and changed him. He didn’t get much sleep the night before so he was happy to nap for a little while longer. You grabbed the baby monitor and made your way back to the living room where Matt was waiting.

You sat yourself on the opposite end of the couch and stared down at your hands. You couldn’t even look at Matt’s face anymore you were so disgusted with him. You had always known that he was a player and had a reputation but you never expected this from him OR your best friend.

“It really wasn’t what it looked like” he started and you were already annoyed.

“So please explain to me what it was then.” You spat.

“After I left your apartment that night I called Kaylee. I needed her advice.” he paused “ I was really hurt by Lexi and then by you I just didn’t know who to turn to.”

“What are you even talking about, I didn’t hurt you.”

“I came over here that night because I needed you and wanted to talk and all you could say was ‘I thought you weren’t ready for commitment’” he wasn’t making eye contact with you anymore, instead he was looking at his fidgeting hands.

“Because that’s what you told me when you broke my heart Matthew, I can’t feel bad for someone who doesn’t want the responsibility of commitment but wants a girl to commit to them. How does that make any sense?”

“Are you kidding me right now. Yes, I was stupid for breaking up with you but I realized that during your pregnancy.” He was now almost yelling “and when I did realize that you were it for me and that I did want a committed relationship, you pushed me away and friend zoned me. I proved to you that I was in it for the long haul and you were the one that didn’t want me anymore.” You were so confused by his words.

“What?” Was all you could manage. You two clearly had very different memories of your pregnancy. While Matt was most definitely there for you and very attentive, he never expressed that he wanted to be with you again. But then you thought back to the gender reveal party. That was his way of showing you he loved you.

“I hadn’t slept with anyone your entire pregnancy, well starting from the time I found out. I thought you were going to take me back and I was working so hard. But after I kissed you at that party, I realized you were over me, you never brought it up and made it a point to friendzone me afterwards.” You felt horrible, you were so blinded by your own emotions that you didn’t see his the entire time.

“So I decided I would move on. I met Lexi and she seemed great. I thought I just wanted someone to commit to and I moved way too fast with her. When she told me she only saw me as a fuck buddy, I realized that I didn’t want to commit to just anyone, I only want you y/n” you saw a tear stream down his face and you realized it was the first time you had ever seen him cry.

“I came here to tell you how I felt that night but it came out all wrong, I was still angry with you for not taking me back during the pregnancy. I called Kaylee when I left to see if she could help me figure things out with you. I stayed at her place that night because she told me to get some sleep and we would figure out a plan to win you back in the morning. I forgot to set my alarm to come and pick up Reign and I overslept. And when you knocked on the door I had just woken up that’s why I was half dressed and that’s why I wasn’t returning your calls.”

You were frozen in your spot on the couch. You couldn’t tell if this was real or if it was all just a dream. This is all you wanted from Matthew since the second you broke up. It all seemed way too surreal.

“Why should I believe any of what your saying right now” you didn’t want to get your hopes up just yet. Your words were a little harsh considering he just confessed his love but you were never good with words or finding the right thing to say. You were still slightly hurt and wanted to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate plan to keep you from taking Matt’s son away from him for good.

“I have all my text conversation with Kaylee that you can read through, I’m sure we can go back and check her ring cameras, you can also just ask her yourself.” He was rambling trying to find a way to prove he wasn’t lying, but you knew Matthew well enough and knew when he was telling the truth.

“Ok ok I get it.” You said cutting him off. There were a few moments of silence before anyone spoke again.

“So what does this mean for us.” Matt almost whispered, kinda like he was scared to hear the answer.

“Well” you took a breathe “I’m in love with you Matthew Tkachuk, always have been and always will be”

“Buttttt” he continued for you.

“But this is going to take time, sometimes I feel like I’m your last options.” Hi face fell at your words “if you can prove to me that this is really how you feel and really what you want, we can talk about having a relationship later down the line.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to prove it to you.” He gave you a small smirk “and I can start by taking you to dinner tomorrow night.” You chuckled a little, he always did know how to lighten a mood.

“That would be nice but we can’t, who is going to watch our son?” You questioned.

“I’ll handle all the logistics, you just be ready at 6:00.” He responded. He was now up and walking to your sons room.

“Where are you going.” You followed him.

“Well it’s still my turn to take Reign, and you look like you can use a break.” He said as he packed up the diaper bag. He picked up your son and put him in his carrier. “I’ll be back tomorrow at 6:00, be ready” he smiled and kissed you on your cheek. And with that he left your apartment.

You sat on your couch with your head in your hands after Matthew left with Reign. You needed a few minutes to collect your thoughts and process what just happened. You didn’t even realize how tired your were until you started to doze off. But your were abruptly brought back to reality when your phone started to ring.

“Oh my god you finally answered. Y/n, I can explain everything.” Kaylee voiced streamed through your phone but you were quick to cut her off.

“Kay wait, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I was just having a hard time and was obviously thrown off by what I saw. Matthew explained everything to me.” You could hear her sign in relief on the other end of the phone.

“Oh....so you guys talked” she paused a little excitement in her voice “well how did it go, are you guys back together.”

“Not quit” you said, kind of ashamed.

“What do you mean, all you ever wanted was to be a real family with him, for him to fully commit to you. Now he finally does and what did you say?” She was clearly confused.

“Kay it’s gonna take time, we still have so many problems we have to work through. We need to take things slow so I know this is what he really wants.”

“What he really wants or what you really want?” You were thrown off. You had never really thought about the possibility that this isn’t what you wanted. If your relationship was just going to be fighting and worrying that he is hooking up with someone else when you weren’t together, did you even want it? Matthew was going to have to work really hard to prove that this is what you both want.

[amodernpersephone]

for the character opinion bingo!! venti, KLEE, kokomi, ei, sayu lmfao

hi jester and omg THATS A LOT ILYSM <33

venven!! haha fave god go brr i don't really have much to say abt venti bc my brain does Not comprehend him he just goes around in my mind like a window's screensaver and beeps "it's me boy i'm the god of freedom speaking to you from inside your brain listen to me boy leave the girl we don't need her" also im still salty bc this fucker never came home </3 yeah and self-projection bc i too struggle with epiphanies and identity crises bc i feel like i ripped off my entire being from the first friend i made in my life that i've slowly lost knowledge of which part of me is really me. also i dont like sticky cheese :(

klee!!!!! babie. child. kiddo. tiny human. i love them! i don't really know what to say but i love kids and klee reminds me of my younger sibling KDHNDBDBD i'd let her blow up all the houses in manila, including mine 🥺

ei! almost the same thoughts as kokomi and YES she is a horrible person and yes i would both be terrified and in love with them. ei pulled some shit, what she did was no less than tyranny and the thinking that "it wasn't her, it was the shogun!" is a hit and a miss because yes it really wasn't her but she was fully aware and compliant of all the events leading up to the inazuma archon quest. she didn't see anything wrong from ripping away people's aspirations and dreams, despite knowing that a vision is the most prized gift any normal teyvatian could ever get aside from godhood itself. ei was cruel, and horrible, and while i don't agree that she should be villified or obliterated, seeing her take a momemt to realize how terrible the things she allowed to happen were—how she ruined the lives of countless inazumans, how her sakoku decree slowly suffocated the life out of people, how her eternity was eternity for her own selfishness and not out of the kindness and love she had for her people—but rather than that, we got her "im so lonely uwu" speech and the fandom has reduced her to a dumb blubbering mess bc she cant cook. i doubt gods need to eat anyway lol

sayu!!! also babie. but like i havent done her hangout yet so i wouldnt know much abt her but i hope we see her more!! shes literally so cute and her voice is mwah mwah. i wouldve liked her to spill some secrets regarding the shuumatsuban tho. KFHJDHDHD sayu supremacy shes literally my only fucking anemo thats why i need heizou

[yea-no-thank-you-nope]

The Philosophy of Dr. Stone

  My intentions for this essay are not to try and persuade you into thinking Senku is an awful person and whoever thinks like this is selfish and childish. I’m very sorry if I did come across as that. I do believe Senku is right in some aspects like the whole “leveling the playing field” thing and the curiosity humans naturally have towards science. I just think that everyone should not be unpetrified, that there should be laws in place on science to make sure it’s not unnecessarily cruel or harmful, and that in this situation it would be better to try and rebuild humanity better than in the past. Both Senku and Tukasa are flawed in their way of thinking. Humanity cannot survive with only one in power, shaping the world to what they want.

Now I wanted to say this at the start but I absolutely love Dr. Stone, this essay is not a barrage of the story and how it’s garbage or anything or that anyone is. This is not an attack but an invitation to a discussion. I’m making this essay because I appreciate the story and think it is so incredibly interesting. This essay is constructive criticism so the story can be better and so people can discuss the topics and the opinions they have of them, basically just an excuse to make people talk about this awesome story. I also have not read the manga, I’ve only watched the anime so if you decide to respond please do it very vaguely. I’m fine if you talk about the new arguments brought up but not ok if you spoil the show so please be careful.

I’m going to begin with psychology because that’s my jam and I obsess over psychological topics and discussions. I am by no means a professional but I haven’t heard anyone point out or talk about the ideas and opinions I have, so I’ll just do it. The psychology in Dr. Stone is incredibly thought provoking and makes the audience take a close look at their society and the people around them. What would you do if all of humanity was turned to stone and when you wake up all evidence of humans has corroded away except for the statues of said people scattered everywhere? What would you do if the world was basically reset, including humanity? What would you do?

That in-and-of itself is exiting. It's fun to think of what you would do in such an radial situation. With that the audience can automatically empathies with the cast of characters and their versions of how they decide to handle the situation. Senku’s choice is to unpetrify everyone and bring humanity back to the modern age. This may be what most people would do, I don’t know for sure but I haven't heard a lot of people who actually disagree with his point of view so I’m just assuming. This is like the textbook, basic ideology a human could have. All humans have that basic instinct to save as many people as possible, it just makes sense. This and the fact that Senku is google reincarnated makes him the perfect protagonist for this story. People may not be able to empathies with a scheming scientific genius but they can empathies with his desire to save everyone just like in any other Shonen anime. It’s easy to think this way and it's understandable, but that doesn't mean it’s right.

On the other hand we have Tsukasa. He is, to put it simply, the complete opposite to Senku. He is still smart but is not a walking talking Alexa and is incredibly strong. He believes that they shouldn't bring back everyone and instead pick and choose who to unpetrify. He thinks that bringing back humanity to the way it was will only cause destruction, war, power imbalances, and greed. Now you may call this a “hot take” but I came across some misunderstandings on Tsukasa’s stand. He does not disagree with science, he disagrees with Senku. He does not think that science itself is the root of all human evil, he thinks humans are. Now you may be asking “How do you know that for sure?”, well, why would he compliment Senku on his knowledge of science if he hates it? The only time I can remember him saying anything bad about science is when he was talking about guns, bombs, and other weapons of mass destruction. But it’s clear that he only brought that up to persuade Senku in not reviving the greedy and the ones who will use them to oppress and kill others. Again, just like with Senku, the audience can sympathize and understand this character and their actions. No one wants to see another in pain and surely does want anyone to die, they want to save everyone.

Senku and Tsukasa are on the absolute opposite side of each other but are still on the same coin. They both want the best for humanity but have 2 conflicting viewpoints. Now it would be incredibly easy to just pick a side and argue for that side and why it’s right but I don’t think people see that both of those are very flawed ideals and although in theory they could work, in practice both of them fall apart. If Senku gets his way and everyone is revived and basically back to the way the world was, humanity will get right back on track to the destruction of the world. We were already on that track before the petrification. Scientists predict that 2050 is basically the doomsday year. In 2050 there will not be enough food to feed us all due to overpopulation and global warming is getting worse and worse by the second. If we don’t take drastic steps to stop it then the world is on track towards an early ice age and even the destruction of the entire planet. But in this universe that exact thing happened (the drastic steps not the destruction of the world). With all of humanity frozen in an instant all pollution creation stopped, the furnaces burning coal died out, and over hunting/ over deforestation ceased in an instant. I’m not a professional scientist so I don’t know if 3,000 years is actually enough time for the world to completely reset but I do know that with the sudden halt on human activity could allow the earth to completely heal.

So the issue with Senku’s viewpoint seems to be that he viewed the modern age as a utopia of sorts which makes sense, it’s the peak of science and he loves science. Senku was born physically weak and preferred to use his brain over his muscles. He viewed science as a way to “level the playing field”, and he’s not wrong. It definitely levels the playing field but that’s only if they have access to it, it does not work if the people who don’t need it are the only ones who can have it. In primitive society (I’m mainly going to focus on Native American culture and history because that’s the one I know the most) many people were born with deformities or any other phenomenon that now-a-days is seen as a disability, but they were just as important as anyone else in the group. Back then it didn’t matter. Yes you were more likely to be killed or die by natural occurrences but not by other people. By eliminating the dangers of nature, people shift their hatred onto other people. This is exactly the reason that in so many stories 2 opposing groups come together to defeat a common enemy. That's where the phrase “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”. Now to be fair the show never really touches on the topic of nature being dangerous, it always seems to just be humans. It only ever sturs away from this in situations like the acid lake that gives off toxic fumes, but the show doesn't really want to focus on that aspect, which is fine, if they want to tell a story about the people then they can, I mean that's what I’m writing about now.

Senku wants to bring back everyone because he knows that that is the fastest way to create all the technology. If you remember from before I touched briefly on how the world was going to shit was in part due to overpopulation. I think you know where I’m going with this. Even with the earth reset and nature covering all, that is still not going to be enough food for all of them. It has already been proven that there is no way to sustain this large of a human population. The reason we are not all dying of starvation right now is because most of the food produced can barley be considered food at all, the other food is genetically altered, and it all goes to only one group of people. You see, when I asked “why are we not starving to death” I was technically lying, we are. Not counting the small percentage of the population that can afford all the food, we are starving to death, and it is by our own hands. The world we live in today is not a utopia. Yes we have science that can save lives but those are made by the countless deaths of rats, monkeys, and so many other animals we use as “lab rats”.

I’m not saying all this to make you feel bad, I’m bringing it up to try and explain why what Senku is doing terrifies me. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to wake up to a fresh new start on life only to find out someone wants to rebuild it all again. He is not learning from history, he is repeating it. That is why Senku’s idea of what he wants the world to be is great on paper but crumbles apart when put into practice.

  I have also heard that the reason Senku wants to bring back the modern age is because he just wants to go to space, making it a selfish act on his part. I thought this was incredibly interesting and relatable and really made me look at his character differently. This would be another way of thinking about the petrifying if humanity, some would see it as this horrible event that ruined their lives and again, this makes sense. All Senku ever wanted to do was go to space. That’s why he learned science in the first place. He spent his entire life working towards that goal and right when he could have had it, it disappeared. I don't blame him for wanting everything to go back to where it was and now I really want to see if this is addressed or challenged in the story. I want to see Senku come to terms with this and finally get closure, not only on the situation but also his dad. Basically I just want him to cry god dammit! Let him cry! Let him be healthy and accept his emotions!

Speaking of emotions, it’s well known that he hides his and if you have been screaming at me about that fact, I know. I understand that until this point I may have been portraying Senku as this selfish greedy and mean person who doesn't care about humanity at all and I’m sorry if it did. That description does not fit him at all. It’s subtle but when you see it you can’t unsee it. As mentioned before he was born very weak and so couldn’t really protect himself from others, this is by no means a disability but close enough to where he can understand the pain and struggles that people who are disabled face. When he made glasses for the 2 villagers he stated that science levels the playing field. That little interaction reveals that he does care about helping other people and hoping to fix their problems with science. He also further elaborated on his idea with Magma when they were mining. He stated that everyone has a job to do and neither job is better than the other. This shows his understanding of everyone's roles and how, as a species, to thrive we must all work together. This further drills home the point to me that it’s not that Senku is stupid or that he doesn’t care about humanity but that his still a little kid who never really had to go through or see the awful and corrupt side of the world. I hate using this word because I feel like it’s used too much but by all intents and purposes, Senku is privileged. He only seems to know the science of today as this life saving, world altering and fundamentally good concept, not the steps in which it took to get there, how many lives and dead ecosystems it took to get where we are today, and what we are still doing. Don’t forget about the whole global warming thing, mass deforestation, and pollution.

I am going to give 2 examples of how science can be cruel and how it doesn't need to be. I’m going to get into deep stuff here so it’s ok if you skip it. I’m talking about slavery and the experimentation of animals. Do you remember when the U.S.A was tearing down statues? One of them (I don’t know if it was torn down. I just know that it’s in front of a university and people wanted it gone) was a statue of a man who progressed the field of medicine and healthcare immensely, but did so at the expense of specifically black women. He believed that they were incapable of feeling pain and so performed many horrific surgeries and tests on them with no pain killer. Yes he greatly furthered the field of healthcare, but that doesn't make it right and especially not humane. He should not and did not need to do that. We would figure it out on our own. Sure it would probably take a lot more time but that doesn't justify the actions of that man. The other example is an ongoing process that is still in practice today, the experimentation of animals. If you don’t know, before a beauty product or medicine of some sort can enter the market it needs to be checked by the government to see if it is safe for us to use. So companies use monkeys and other animals to test their product on. It is horrific. The scientists treat those animals with no respect or care for the lives of them. It is unnecessary and cruel. We would figure it out on our own. Sure, it probably would take longer, but that doesn't make it right. It’s an excuse.

Senku doesn't seem to know this seeing as how he basically learned everything from scratch with experiments. That’s why I’m saying Senku is naïve and not a cruel monster who doesn't care who gets hurt, as long as it satisfies his curiosity and expands the field of science. I do hope that later down the line the story confronts that fact and we see first hand that he is not willing to do whatever it takes to go back to modern civilization as much he wants us to believe. I want to see him come to terms with this and decide that, with everything, there are rules and boundaries. This is also why I keep harping back to how I want to see this explored in the story. Senku clearly wants to help humanity and cares for others. He has morals and so has boundaries. I want to see him pushed to the edge, to see just how far he will go in the name of science and for the bettering of humanity. At the end of the day he is still human, everyone is.

Tukasa’s turn! The issue with Tukasa’s view point is simply because he thinks all young people are good people. This is not true. Old people can be good and bad. Adults can be good and bad. Children can be good and bad. It all depends on the person. This is not even mentioning the fact that children can not raise other children. No matter how wise Tukasa is for his age, he can not raise children (and yes teenagers count as children). There's a reason why in every culture all 3 stages of life serve a purpose and depend on each other, one cannot live without the other. He needs good people, not young people to restart humanity.

At first I saw it unfair and one sided how the story constantly depicted Tukasa as an evil person and that he is a tyrant. This was until it was pointed out to me that the reason for that is because Senku is the main character so the audience sees through his perspective, so if he sees Tukasa as evil, the audience will too. Even with that I understand why people will not like Tukasa and so in extension not listen to his argument. I want to give him a chance because he, and by extension the people like him, deserve it. I understand why people don’t though. He smashes the statues of people because he genuinely believes that all are bad and so takes action to protect others, just like Senku who seemed ready to kill Tukasa with the crossbow he made and the gun he was going to use on him, they both thought what they were doing was right. This does not excuse either of their actions, no one to be clear can use this as an excuse, I still want to bring up a fact that I personally think people forget (including myself). The show is set in a post-apocalyptic world. Yes, characters can unpetrify other characters but some are too far gone. In the background we see statues missing limbs and body parts. I was actually surprised and skeptical when it was shown that there were so many perfectly intaced statues Tukasa was able to find. They must be made out of harder rock than I thought. Either way, I know people can survive without certain body parts and I’m not saying they can't. It's just as far as we know, if they attempt to unpetrify someone missing a body part (especially if it’s a leg) they might bleed out instantly and without all the proper equipment needed. Or will the stone heal the stump? If so what if they find the missing part later? Can they reattach it? Can they attach body parts from other people and unpetrify them? What would happen? Would the stone merge the parts together or reject it? The stone is explicitly stated to have healing properties so what would happen? It’s still too early to know and with knowing that information comes from human experimentation and could lead to many lives lost. It was ok with the birds because they were small and still intaced so there was no danger. The point that I’m getting to is that the line is incredibly blurred and the drastic life-and-death situation everyone is in, I wouldn't jump to say Tukasa is a monster. He may be killing people or they could have been dead in the first place, not to mention like I said before it would be impractical and deadly to revive every human being on planet Earth.

This is why I think Tukasa’s plan is flawed. He is only one person and so is limited in his ideas. He thinks that only the young are good people and if only the characters would actually TALK to each other then both of them could see the flaws and work together instead of jumping to conclusions. I hope now that Senku and Tukasa are friends of sorts that they finally get to do that but again, I don’t know I have not read the manga.

I have also heard (mainly from video essays on YouTube) that, uncoincidentally, people think that Tukasa’s ideals are naïve when I think Senku’s is. I find it amazing that both of us thought the same thing but of the opposite philosophy. The opinions they expressed made me realize something. Because humanity discovered science, it will do so again and again. While I thought it was naïve to simply return to the way things were and not carry any of the emotional baggage needed to at least try and better humanity and learn from the past, someone else thought that it was futile to hinder the scientific process of humanity and go back to hunter-and-gatherers. I did disagree with some things they said, that is to be expected, but I also realized that that is what we have been doing since as far back as the history books go. It was called different names but the idea is still the same. We try to make sense of the world around us. In cultures across the world gods represented the natural world and phenomenon that occurred, it was just by a different name. Those religions and science try to explain the world around them. Why does corn grow? Quetzalcoatl makes them grow. Chlorophyll provides the nutrients necessary to sustain the plant and make it grow by Photosynthesis. Why does it snow? Frau Hole shakes her sheets and some feathers fall out, causing snow. With the evaporation of water leaves the gaseous form in the sky and if it gets cold enough will freeze and fall. It’s all the same thing. Humans are curious by nature and will always be.

The things that I disagreed with was that they didn’t really seem to think that science can coexist with nature, like it’s either one or the other. They explain that Tukasa believes humanity should be more naturalistic but also calls him stupid. I understand his side in thinking there is no way to revert back to being hunter-gatherers and that no matter what, over time people will rediscover science so the effort is futile. What I don’t seem to understand is why we can’t have both? It might seem naïve at first considering everyone only knows a society of science that destroys the world for progress but with a world altering event like the one in the story and a good leader to boot, it is absolutely possible. The world has already changed so much so I don’t see why people wouldn't (not talking about those greedy people and politicians, I’m talking about the average human being). It just seems so cynical of humanity as a whole to give up before even trying. I understand we are all depressed but still. It’s no excuse not to try.

My ideas for what they can do is to live both with nature and science. First set up rules and laws. Everyone can pitch in to create them and vote on which ones should be reinforced so that not one person has too much power and so the people collectively can understand the importance of those laws. Everyone can choose their job to do like black smithing, building, hunting, sewing and other jobs that are needed. With that they can either choose to have a form of currency or not but under no circumstances is anyone allowed to own land. The land is for everyone and the resources are to be shared accordingly. With the issue of the statues, it could be voted on who can be unpetrified. This way we don’t raise the issue with Tukasa and Senku. One thought too narrow minded and the other was too broad. With the voting system everyone gets to assess the needs of the society as a whole and if the person unpetrified turns out to be bad, the blame would not fall on one person but everyone. This eliminates one person having too much power and subsequently the people would not revolt and kick them out of power, putting another in their place and the cycle starts anew. There can still be science, there will just be restrictions on what is acceptable to do or not.

I understand the flaws in my ideas. I know that making everyone agree to certain things is incredibly hard especially when there's no way anyone can really stop people from doing what they want. There is no government already put in place. They need to build one from scratch and make it so that everyone is down with it and will follow it. I also understand that people can be lazy and not know what they want. Some people will choose to be lazy and either not do their job or choose a job that is specifically lazy in nature. People also probably don’t know what job they want to perform, this is especially prevalent in the young. People could also fight over who will be revived. I know many people, including myself, who have people in their life that they love but are not good people or who will probably not survive in the new world. I mean who’s going to tell Becky that we all know she loves her grandfather but he’s racist, a known sex offender, and already has a diet of 20 hamburgers and 50 Gatorades, there is no way we can provide that much food, we don’t even know if he’ll eat it considering he’s use to junk food and we just reinvented bread a week ago. It tastes awful and the bakers are trying their best but no one can make 50 Gatorades . No one sure as hell wants a sex offender or racist around either.

My intentions for this essay are not to try and persuade you into thinking Senku is an awful person and whoever thinks like this is selfish and childish. I’m very sorry if I did come across as that. I do believe Senku is right in some aspects like the whole “leveling the playing field” thing and the curiosity humans naturally have towards science. I just think that everyone should not be unpetrified, that there should be laws in place on science to make sure it’s not unnecessarily cruel or harmful, and that in this situation it would be better to try and rebuild humanity better than in the past. Both Senku and Tukasa are flawed in their way of thinking. Humanity cannot survive with only one in power, shaping the world to what they want.

If you want to use my essay in a video or something you are welcome to as long as you credit me. If you want to respond or just talk about this topic feel free to, this is a discussion, not an argument.

[wordsablaze]

hardest of hearts

A fix-it songfic inspired by a request for something post-mountain where Geralt feels guilty for hurting his bard and Jaskier struggles with low self-esteem...

A/N: @holisticfansstuff hey, i finally wrote this for your ask !! sorry it took a while and i’m not quite sure this is what you wanted but i hope it’s alright !! the song is hardest of hearts by florence + the machine x

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“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

And with that one sentence, Jaskier shatters.

And everything changes.

there is love in your body but you can’t hold it in

Meletite knows Jaskier has had enough practice picking up the broken pieces of himself, whether it’s literally pulling his skin back together after being too troublesome or reassembling the shards of his heart after someone carelessly, unknowingly damages it.

He’s broken and been broken countless times before and really, it should be nothing new to witness himself do so once more. Because Jaskier has always loved freely and deeply, but it had been different this time.

And yes, he’s long since lost track of how many windows he’s leaped out of before the sun has risen or how many hushed promises have turned into hazy tavern memories. But this time, it was Geralt.

It was his livelihood and his muse and his very reason for making it through winter, and it was different to any other love he’d nurtured - it was the only one he’d offered slowly and steadily, the only one that had been so sharply spat back at him.

Never has he struggled so much to even breathe right as he turns away.

it pours from your eyes and spills from your skin

Geralt is so, so fiercely angry that he forgets how to be guilty.

That is, until he sees Jaskier’s expression, because Jaskier should be angry or upset or amused but he’s simply a brave face, a faux smile, a testament to Geralt’s mistakes.

An excuse is made about collecting the rest of the story but they both know there’ll never be an accurate song sung about a dragon hunt. And if Jaskier’s expression isn’t enough, the bitter sorrow and sharp pain that radiates from him even after Geralt has turned around is evidence enough.

He’s messed up and he’s messed up horribly and he’s frozen in place as he hears Jaskier’s footsteps fade until they’re too far to follow.

Part of him hopes Jaskier will stay so things can go back to normal but by the time he remembers to move, the only trace left of him is a lingering floral scent that does nothing to fill the sudden void in Geralt’s world.

tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks

Jaskier walks until his feet hurt and then he carries on walking because that’s what he always does when his heart breaks. Only this time he’s certain the blisters on his feet will heal long before his heart does, if it ever does.

He’s no stranger to this sort of pain, he’s travelled a path paved with the disdain of people he’s loved, but Geralt’s blow seems to have hit the hardest of them all despite never truly touching him.

And worst of all, he doesn’t dare sing about it lest anyone get the wrong idea about witchers, for that would unravel decades of effort and he couldn’t bear to see their kind suffer just because it turns out he has a weak heart.

“Toss a coin to your witcher…” he sings, tempted to toss and lose the coin that’s been nestled in his pockets since Posada.

He’s a fool for keeping it, he knows he is, but he can’t bear to part with it, can’t bear to admit that he’s been cast aside by yet another love.

and the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts

It’s no secret that Geralt is a quiet person by nature.

He’s never pretended otherwise, which is why it was such a shock when Jaskier slots into his life as if he were born to do so.

Because Jaskier talks enough for the both of them and he becomes an expert in knowing what Geralt is feeling, even when he himself hasn’t figured it out. And Geralt hates it at first, hates the way Jaskier knows when he needs help with bargaining or when he just wants to get away from people and shelter in the forests.

He knows he doesn’t express his gratitude enough, he knows that Jaskier deserves someone who can match his love, who can hold his hand in broad daylight instead of curling up with him in the dead of night under the pretence of necessity.

It doesn’t bother Jaskier though, and all the bard asks for in return is tales of heroics and heartbreak for his songs - Geralt hates himself for so harshly providing the latter.

there is love in your body but you can’t get it out

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jaskier regrets building up his career on Geralt’s adventures.

He’d never imagined that they’d part ways - or rather, he’d let his guard down and forgotten to remember that most people leave him eventually - so he’s wholly unprepared for how much it hurts to sing about witchers when he’s no longer travelling with one.

But he does it anyway because he’s loved Geralt from the start and he doesn’t think he’s capable of ever not loving Geralt and he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.

So he keeps going.

On and on.

He travels as far as he can so that he can stay out of Geralt’s way, taking his broken heart with him and ignoring the way he feels like its shards are tearing into his insides a little more with each passing day.

it gets stuck in your head, won’t come out of your mouth

There is more than one town in which Geralt wants to murder a bard.

His bard - for that is what everyone knows Jaskier as - has created masterpieces and they are being butchered by men with far lesser voices, by men who don’t deserve to sing them in the first place.

And Geralt yearns to hear the original versions but it seems he is fated to hear Jaskier’s pain second-hand. He asks around, of course he does, for where to find Jaskier, but nobody knows what to tell him and he has never been good at bargaining for information.

He wishes he knew how to say more than please and thank you but Jaskier was his communication and without him, he can only really achieve the minimum required from him.

Regret pools in his gut every time Jaskier’s trail fizzles out.

sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face

Performance has always been Jaskier’s area of expertise but gods is it difficult to pretend he isn’t drowning in the love he was never meant to keep for himself.

He doesn’t know what to do with his compliments and his teasing and his fond exasperation because all of it was for Geralt and if Geralt doesn’t want it, doesn’t want him, he doesn’t know what to do with it, with himself.

He wastes some of his unwanted love on drunken adventures and always regrets it when he’s asked to stay and give up his travels or asked to leave and flee before a betrothed returns - both demands are knives that sink into his chest and add to the cracks in his heart.

It seems that nobody can truly understand what pleases him but he cannot fault them for he has forgotten how to be honest, whether it’s with others or himself.

Jaskier is tired of loving and hurting as if they are one and the same.

that the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste

“I care for you,” Geralt tells Ciri.

“I want you to be safe,” he adds sincerely.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, because he is.

But all he’s doing is repeating what Jaskier had done, what Jaskier had taught him, and the words sometimes refuse to leave his lips because even they know someone else should have had the right to hear them first.

And all Geralt can do is hope Ciri understands that he means well, he really does. She does, of course, because she is far smarter than she seems and because she too has learned from Jaskier - another fact that sends wave after wave of sour guilt through his mind.

With no way to cure it, his guilt only festers.

darling heart, i have loved you from the start

Jaskier was a mere infant the first time he was abandoned, not that he truly remembers the woman who had decided she didn’t want to take care of him anymore. He only knows because his parents had held it against him, as well as every other heart he failed to win over, right from the start.

Geralt hadn’t abandoned him, Jaskier reminds himself every time he feels anger rise inside of him, he was the one who had abandoned Geralt. And he feels terrible, especially after hearing about Cintra, about Nilfgaard, about everything.

A part of him firmly believes that Geralt is safe because he refuses to think that the love of his life could die without him feeling it, but a part of him is too scared to hold onto that faith.

“I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting…” he sings, because he is.

But only ever for his white wolf.

but you’ll never know what a fool i’ve been

Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and feels sick when his brothers tell him how soldiers have been none too gently questioning any bards they come across.

He feels stupid when he realises that all this time, he’s been endangering Jaskier by not trying hard enough to find him, to make sure he’s okay, to apologise for his cruel words on the mountain.

And he feels even worse when he thinks of what little Jaskier has told him about his past, of how he had never spoken of his parents, of how his touch had lingered as if waiting for permission that he hadn’t thought to grant.

Oh, how ungrateful he had been of the first person to teach him the true meaning of emotions.

“You have to find him,” everyone says, and he can’t bring himself to argue.

there is love in our bodies and it holds us together

Funny how one can never be prepared for the sting of a whip, Jaskier thinks.

A brief flirt with fame had inflated his ego but no matter because bleeding out in a stone cell is the perfect way to remember that he is nothing and means nothing to anyone.

He lives, of course he does, but only because he hangs onto the possibility of once more meeting a golden gaze the same way he hangs from the ceiling and ruins his wrists, which is to say he does so every day.

And he’s okay with all the superficial agony inflicted upon him because although nobody learns anything from him, he learns from them that they’re still searching, that Geralt is safe, and that he has no true reason to be upset.

He doesn’t even care that there’s not a single person he can think of who would bother trying to save him.

but pulls us apart when we’re holding each other

Witchers cannot travel in time but Geralt so dearly wishes they could.

He doesn’t find Jaskier before snow starts to fall and travel becomes impossible.

He fails and it’s his fault that Jaskier is out there somewhere - possibly hurt, possibly dead, and possibly worse - when he is given warmth and love and everything his bard deserves more than him.

A deep chill settles into his very bones and although he is offered blankets, he knows it cannot be averted except by Jaskier’s touch. Oh, how he craves the warmth of sharing a bedroll and waking up at ungodly hours so Jaskier can learn about the constellations for his newest ballad.

He wants nothing more than to take back his words and keep Jaskier in his life, in his arms.

we all want something to hold in the night

A noble lineage meant that Jaskier was taught independence before anything else.

It meant he was always “a big boy who needs to stop wasting time” and “not a child anymore, for goodness sake” and “such a pathetic excuse of a noble, you should know better than that by now” but he was never truly loved.

And he never learned that he was meant to be loved, never learned that the affection he gave was supposed to be returned in equal.

So as Jaskier wobbles and stumbles through his escape, collapsing into the forest floor when his legs refuse to support his weight any longer, he just closes his eyes and pretends that he’s not in his own arms, that he’s in the arms of someone who cares enough to look for him.

But of course, he’s not.

And he wakes up alone.

Over and over again.

we don’t care if it hurts or we’re holding too tight

Geralt leaves at the first sight of spring.

He couldn’t possibly wait a day longer when he’s made Jaskier wait so long, even though he can’t be sure if Jaskier is even still waiting for him or if he’s moved on, which he had every right to do.

He forgets how to plan and finds that his resources run out before he’s crossed even two towns, but he makes do from under the cover of shadows and night because he couldn’t bear to give up, not on Jaskier.

With the bounty on his head, he finds himself fighting monsters just to survive rather than for coin. And with the bounty on his head, he finds himself having to treat his own injuries because he can’t ask a healer and he doesn’t have his best friend to help him.

Nothing hurts as much as Jaskier’s absence.

darling heart, i have loved you from the start

The only reason Jaskier survives past winter is because he heads to the coast.

He’s lucky that despite his reputation for trading secrets, he’s never traded all of his own. He’s always kept his love of the open water to himself and that’s the only reason he makes it there at all.

It still hurts to curl up inside his secret little coastal home though, because he’d spent so long imagining what it would be like to bring his- to bring Geralt with him. But he knows that can’t happen because Geralt had grown tired of him and wants nothing to do with him.

He doesn’t have a lot of food and he knows he should be concerned about that but he can’t bring himself to care because for the first time in over two decades, he doesn’t have anything - note, anyone - to live for.

but that’s no excuse for the state i’m in

It’s harder than it had seemed to travel without being seen.

Geralt knows how to hunt. He knows when to hide and when to begin travelling but for some reason, getting to Jaskier is far more difficult than any contract he’s ever taken.

He’s never been one for Destiny but he finds himself practically praying to her for a way to reach his- for a way to reach who he so dearly wants to make his again. His bard, his friend, his Jaskier.

Roach jerks to a halt every time he almost falls asleep whilst still on the saddle but he doesn’t learn from it, he can’t afford to when he so desperately needs to make amends, so desperately needs to figure out how much damage he’s caused and then fix it before he loses the best part of his life.

Desperation has never been his colour but then again, he's never cared for being fashionable.

my heart swells like a water at work

There’s a knock at the door but Jaskier doesn’t have the energy to move.

He stays where he is, huddled by a fire that’s long since run out of fuel to burn, and hopes that if it’s another mage, they kill him quickly this time. But it’s not.

“Jaskier, please!”

He blinks.

It can’t possibly be who he thinks it is, who he wants it to be, can it?

It can.

“Jaskier?” Quieter this time, as if he’s worried.

And then a crashing thud echoes, followed by his favourite set of footsteps and a hand on his shoulder.

He flinches without meaning to, not sure if he wants to laugh or cry. Geralt offers him a small smile and he promptly decides to do both.

can’t stop myself before it’s too late

“I’m sorry, Jaskier, I’m so sorry.”

It’s an apology long overdue, Geralt knows that, but he has to try, he can’t stop himself from trying, not this time, not when it comes to Jaskier.

And he looks so awfully small wrapped in blankets that Geralt can feel his heart clench. He feels even smaller when he melts into Geralt’s touch as if he’s never been granted the luxury of being held as he cries.

“I know,” Jaskier replies between sobs.

There’s so much more that Geralt needs to say but it’s a start and it’s more than enough because Jaskier is alive.

“Come to Kaer Morhen with me,” Geralt says, not sure if he’s asking or demanding or begging. But it doesn’t really matter which because Jaskier agrees all the same and he’s just glad he has another chance.

hold on to your heart

Jaskier doesn’t want to get comfortable again.

Well, he does. More than anything. But he doesn’t want to risk the consequences again, he doesn’t think he can live through another heartbreak because there’s so little of his heart left intact and he’s scared to lose himself entirely.

So he goes to the school of the wolves and he gets help for his injuries - and scars, but he doesn’t want to think about that any time soon - but he can’t bring himself to relax, not entirely.

He’s sure they can smell his constant worrying and he feels awful for being such a pain but he doesn’t know what he’s meant to do and his fingers itch for a lute but he doesn’t want to annoy anyone by asking for one.

“I’m okay,” he promises, knowing that it’s a broken one even as it leaves his lips.

‘cause i’m coming to take you

It’s a month before Geralt clocks on to the problem and risks leaving, returning just before dawn with a lute that he places on the table beside Jaskier’s bed.

It’s another week before music fills the building.

It's two more everyone finds themselves humming or singing along every time they hear the lute being played. And another before Geralt finds Jaskier waiting for him where he usually trains, a hesitant smile on his face. “Thank you.”

Geralt nods. “It was the least I could do.”

Jaskier frowns, slowly shaking his head and shuffling his feet. “It’s far more than that. Music, it- it’s almost everything to me, I can't explain it...”

Geralt exhales softly. “But I can understand it because, Jaskier, you’re almost everything to me.”

hold on to your heart

A childhood filled with recklessly throwing around his heart meant that Jaskier became more careful with who he truly trusted over time.

Not careful enough, but still too careful to forgive and forget.

But Geralt is patient and kind and more affectionate than Jaskier has ever seen him and he can’t help falling in love all over again, not that he’d climbed out of it in the first place.

He wants to let go of the dragon hunt, he really does, but Geralt’s words still sting and they, along with his mother’s and father’s and countless fleeting lovers’, flash in his mind every time he thinks about surrendering his heart once again.

And he’s scared, he’s oh so scared that Geralt will get bored of him, sick of him, fed up with him again.

‘cause i’m coming to break you

Geralt waits until summer is waving goodbye before telling Jaskier.

He can feel Jaskier’s doubt rising, he can feel the way he’s not sure whether he’ll be invited to stay for winter or not - he will, of course, because he has become one of their own and it would be foolish if he wasn’t.

But when a week goes by without even the faintest echo of a lute, he and Ciri gather up the prettiest flowers they can find and after their evening meal, he offers them to Jaskier.

“I love you,” he admits softly.

Jaskier is still for all of a few seconds before he starts crying.

And Geralt’s whole body is telling him to run because he hates to see tears in his favourite blue eyes but he resists that urge and slowly, carefully wraps his arms around the bard instead.

“I think I’ve loved you for a long time, Jaskier, and I don’t think I could ever not.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply, but he falls asleep in Geralt’s embrace and finally lets his guard down, and that’s answer enough for anyone.

hold on

The war rages on but Jaskier finally finds peace.

Nothing about their life is particularly easy but he has never been more at ease because as much as Geralt had hurt him, he’d also helped him to heal far more than anybody else ever has.

“You have my heart,” he confesses one morning, after waking up to Geralt’s rare but increasingly more common smiles.

“You can keep it to yourself, your love is enough for me,” Geralt murmurs.

Jaskier blinks slowly, suddenly overcome with the urge to cry. He doesn’t, but he does curse softly. “When did you become so poetic, my dear witcher?”

Geralt chuckles, pulling him impossibly close and leaning right beside his ear to reply, “When you taught me how, my dear bard.”

It takes a matter of seconds for Jaskier to decide that he wants to get married.

hold on

Geralt says very little the day they lawfully commit to spending the rest of their lives together.

He says very little as Yennefer and Ciri craft their rings and loop them into matching chains. He says very little as Eskel and Lambert place their bets on who’s going to cry first - they’re both idiots, it’s obviously Jaskier - or who’s going to remain dry-eyed. And he says very little as Vesemir gives them his blessing.

But when they return to their room, Jaskier places his hands on either side of Geralt’s face and smiles softly. “Geralt, my love, will you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve barely said a word.”

And finally, Geralt cracks. “We vowed to stay with each other until we die, right?”

Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Of course, but I would have done that with or without the ceremony, you know that.”

“Witchers live for a long time, Jaskier. I-”

Jaskier places a finger on Geralt’s lips, grinning. “You beautiful fool of a witcher, do I look like the kind of bard that’s going to die any time soon?”

When Geralt really looks, it’s obvious that he doesn’t.

And so, with that one sentence, everything changes again.

For the better this time.

-

it's not particularly original, i know, but i really love this song and kind of let this write itself, and i have too many WIPs to have spent any longer trying to make this better :p hope it was okay anyway <3

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier

[captainscanadian]

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Confrontations. 

Word Count: 3000+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Alcohol 

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup​‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

Old man Nick had been kind enough to let you borrow his truck so that you could head into town and run some errands, which you had certainly been grateful for. Despite the fact that you used to despise your hometown for the horrible memories it came with, you could not deny that there were some good people here - like Nick Fury, and Thor from the hardware store who had given you a discount on the hammer that you bought from him. 

Running into Rebecca Barnes while you were picking out the paint for your bedroom wall had not been a part of your plan. If you could have had it your way, you would have made yourself invisible the moment you saw her. But as a wise man named Harry Nelson once said, superpowers were unrealistic for a reason and real people must face real consequences in their stories. 

You knew that some people could certainly not be avoided, considering that most people you knew as a kid still remained in Shelbyville. Some people remembered you, some people didn’t, and it was meant to be that way. You hadn’t come back here to reconnect with old friends or make new ones for that matter. Your goal was to finish the book, and home improvement was just a bonus project that you had taken up while you were here. 

Once you finished this novel of yours, you could just head back to your life in LA and figure out what was next for you. Hopefully, if the fourth book is just as successful as it’s three predecessors, you could finally sign off the movie rights to Harry and work together on the adapted screenplay. Friends with benefits or not, you could not deny that the two of you worked very well together as creative partners. 

As for your childhood bedroom, you had taken down the old bulletin board and the outdated posters of the Jonas Brothers from the walls. You found yourself draping the remaining furniture in the drop cloth that you had picked up from the hardware store yesterday. Not that you cared all that much about ruining the old single bed and oakwood desk with all of that paint; you could certainly afford to buy some new furniture for the house once you finished with your little renovation. 

But a part of you was still a sentimental idiot who hoped to cherish the memories of your countless study dates in this room with a certain someone. As much as you hated the thought of him, you could not deny that he was still a significant part of your childhood. Cherish the good memories, but hold a grudge against him for the bad ones. It was not the best way to live, but it was still your way. 

Besides, if Hope Anderson was covering up her furniture when she was painting her house, then so were you. 

“Bucky, I’m really starting to feel like you’re thinking way too much about this.” Rosie called out to her girlfriend’s brother, who was pacing back and forth in his childhood friend’s front lawn. 

Her goal had been to stop by the caterer’s that morning to start figuring out the menu for the high school reunion that she was meant to plan. But when Bucky had asked her to give him a ride to your place on their way back, she found herself parked in front of your house for way longer than she would have wanted. With her windows rolled down, she stared out at her friend in utter disappointment. 

 “You’ve come this far, you idiot. What’s stopping you from going up to her door?” 

“But what if she just slams the door in my face?” 

“Then you fucking deserved it for what you did!” She groaned, clearly growing irritated by the way he had been acting ever since Becca had informed the two of them that she had run into you at the hardware store. 

She knew that he had history with you, but she had never asked to be caught up in it. Not back then, and certainly not now. With the way that Bucky was handling himself to the news of your return, all she could do is hope and pray that things did not escalate when he eventually grows a pair and faces you again.

Bucky stopped in his tracks as he looked over at her. “I know, I fucked up. You don’t have to keep saying what I did, okay? I know what I did and I’m not fucking proud of it.”

“You were an idiot, yes. We’ve been through that.” She pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. “But it’s been ten years, Bucky. We’re adults now and… maybe she’s moved on. Maybe she would let you in.” Truth be told, she doubted that you would. But she had to say it for the sake of comforting her friend. One more minute of watching him pace back and forth would probably drive her insane. 

He let out a sigh as he walked up to her car and leaned against her car window. “Rosie, I just want to fix things between us. She hasn’t been in town in ten years and… I don’t know if I would ever have the chance to see her again. I want to do the right thing now.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it.” She admitted, sighing. “But did you ever think that… maybe it was what you did that might have been the reason why she never came home?” 

It may have crossed his mind a few times that he was the reason why you left. Not that you had ever been subtle about it either; you made it known. It may have crossed his mind when you had left Shelbyville without a goodbye. It may have crossed his mind when your mother had handed him a cardboard box full of the presents he had given you throughout the years, the ones that you had purposely left behind when you moved out. It may have crossed his mind when he had left you several voicemails throughout that summer, checking up on you as he always did, only for you to change your number before you started college.

But he had been so full of hope that you would return one day, and that he could finally recite the apology that he had been rehearsing since you left town. He hoped that you would hear him out, and forgive him for what he had done. He had hoped that you would come home for Thanksgiving that year, and join him and his sisters in making their famous pumpkin pie together. He had hoped that you would come home for Christmas, and that the two of you could build snowmen in his front lawn and put up the tree as you always did. By the time spring break came around, all of his hope had been lost, and he had realized that you weren’t actually coming back. 

Letting out another sigh, Bucky Barnes shook his head. “Oh what was I thinking?” He scolded himself as he got into the car. “Fuck… I can’t do it. I can’t face her.”

“Bucky, come on… what the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

To think that this guy really had her parked out in front of your house for a whole hour, only for him to chicken out like this!

“Just drop me off at The Tavern, please?” He asked her as he leaned back in his seat. “I could use a drink… or two.” 

“It’s only 2 pm, Dr. Barnes.” She reminded him, her eyebrow raised. 

“Bender, please.” 

Rosie let out a sigh of defeat as she started her car. “Oh who am I kidding? Dealing with your stupid ass has really got me needing a drink before 5 pm anyways.” 

You might have stocked your fridge with enough food to last you for the next two weeks, but the lack of alcohol at the house was reason enough for you to step out that evening. Leaving the bright pink paint on the walls of your childhood bedroom to dry, you found yourself hopping back in Nick’s truck and driving towards The Tavern. 

Being back in Shelbyville, Indiana still felt quite surreal to you. There was a certain sense of familiarity that came with being back in your hometown. The house was the same. The neighborhood was the same. The feeling of being home was just the same. 

But you could not deny that things were different too. The city had changed to keep up with the time that had flown by, and the lack of your mother’s presence at the house just didn't feel right. You missed her so much now. Perhaps a part of you would always regret leaving her all alone. But you did fly her out to LA for the holidays and spent as much time with her while she was still alive. All you could do is be grateful for the time that you got to spend with her, even if you hadn’t visited home as much as she would have wanted you to. 

Hope Anderson’s grief was no different from yours, which was probably why her attempt at drinking away her regrets had been crashed by a certain Jason Prescott - her childhood best friend, her first love, her first heartbreak, and her mother’s doctor who had been burdened with giving her the news that her mother was dying. 

Her love for him was the reason why she had broken up with Reid Melendez back in college. The pain that he had caused her was the reason why she realized that the pain that Ethan Sharpe had caused her was nothing in comparison. Even Jake Winston knew that he would never be able to have a place in her heart as her first love. 

As it turns out, having to spend many nights by her dying mother’s bedside had forced her to spend much more time with her former best friend than she had intended. It had allowed her to come to terms with the pain that she had buried deep. It had only been a matter of time before she realized how much she missed her best friend, and she never dared to push him away after that. 

Unbeknownst to you, your story and Hope’s story were much more entwined than you could have ever imagined. Not that you had been expecting to run into James Buchanan Barnes of all people when you entered The Tavern. But the sight of a grown man spitting out his whiskey upon your entrance sure made heads turn. 

You felt your heart pattering against your chest as you came face to face with him, and you could not deny that the years had been kind to him. His chubby cheeks had hollowed and his crooked teeth now straightened; while his hair had grown slightly in length, his bright blue eyes were just the same. 

He looked a decade older, and wiser with age, you hoped. The Bucky Barnes you knew was a seventeen year old bully, who had cared more about being a part of Brock Rumlow’s inner circle than your friendship. But was he still an absolute dickhead? You had no clue. 

You blinked for a moment, wondering if this unfamiliar image of him would fade and be replaced with the plump fifteen year old boy whom you knew as a kid. As though the last ten years had never passed and that your friendship had stood frozen in time. 

As much as you would hate to admit it, you missed him. You missed the guy who had been your best friend. You missed the guy who walked into your home every morning with a cheeky ‘honey, I’m home’ and helped himself to your mother’s famous pancakes while you got dressed. You missed the guy who walked to school with you, skipping through the cracks on the sidewalk and holding each other for balance. You missed the guy who always packed an extra lunch whenever his mother made him these salted caramel spread sandwiches, just because they were your favourite. You missed the guy he used to be, before he had ditched you and began hanging out to Brock Rumlow. 

A part of you wanted to turn away and leave the bar, while another part of you had urged you to step over to his booth and greet him. You could not avoid confronting the past for much longer. A decade has passed, so you might as well put an end to it. 

If not, you were pretty sure that Hope Anderson herself would call you a hypocrite for making her face her past while you walked away from yours. As fictional as she was, you respected her perception of you too much to do anything that she would not approve of. 

Bucky Barnes found himself trembling as he struggled to find the right words to describe how beautiful you looked. You looked a decade older than he remembered, no doubt about that. The way you dressed, it looked rather expensive. A designer peacoat straight out of the movies, and red-bottom heels that seemed way too inappropriate for this cold weather. He could not help but wonder if you were the same Y/N he knew back in high school, even though you did not look the same. 

You looked around The Tavern, greeting a few familiar faces with a smile that seemed rather forced. Not that being a New York Times Best-selling author meant that you got recognized every now and then, but these people seemed to know your mother more than they knew you, and the people of Shelbyville certainly took pride in one of their own making a name for herself in the world of literature. 

As much as Bucky wished to rise from his seat and dash out of The Tavern instead of facing you, he probably had his sister and her girlfriend  to thank for grabbing onto his wrists so that he wouldn’t try to leave. “Becca!” He whined as he looked over at her, his lips curling into a pout. 

“Oh fuck off, James!” She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her beer. “For how long do you think you are going to avoid her when she’s finally back in town for God knows how long?” 

“Come on, Buck.” Rosie gave him a rather stern look, her hand clutched around her beer as she watched you heading towards the bar. “Whether you like it or not, she’s here and I’m pretty sure she just saw that you’re here too. Just get over yourself and talk to her like the grown ass man you are. You’re not seventeen anymore.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? What if she just throws her drink at me?”

“As I said earlier, then you probably fucking deserve it!”

“I swear to fucking God…” Becca shook her head at her brother. “Just go and fucking talk to her, you idiot!” 

You wanted to avoid making eye contact with him, but you could not help but feel his eyes on you from the moment you had even set foot into this bar. You knew that he was staring at you as though he had seen a ghost, which you probably were, considering your past. But you did not want to return your gaze, for you knew that staring into his eyes for a moment too long would only dig up the emotions you had buried long ago. 

Stalling the confrontation that you knew would come inevitably, you decided that you needed some alcohol in your system in order to prepare for the emotions that would resurface in a matter of time. You watched as the lemon twist swirled around in your drink, and the condensation trickling down the cold glass. 

Looking back at the years when you had been so madly in love with Bucky, you could not deny how stupid you had been back then. Seventeen years old and fucking hormonal, all you had cared for back then was some validation - the ‘I love you too’s and the ‘you’re beautiful’s that girls your age had been desperate to hear from a stupid teenage boy. 

Falling in love with Bucky Barnes had been your biggest regret, not because he had humiliated you when he had found out about your feelings. It was because you had realized that you had been proven wrong about your perception of who he was. You had loved him because you had believed that he would treat you how every girl your age would have dreamt to be treated, only to realize that he was the complete opposite. You were ashamed of your judgement, and that made you fear having to confront him more than anything. You were not willing to admit that you had been wrong about him, even though he was the one who hand treated you wrongly. 

“I’m dreaming, right? I must be.” 

His unfamiliar voice sounded more manly and hoarse, a lot deeper than you remembered. He wasn’t seventeen anymore. But there was still a certain sense of familiarity to it; it was still his voice and you somehow knew that with the way he spoke. 

You took a sip of your drink, taking a moment too long to respond. Your heart continued to pound against your chest as you found yourself turning your head to look at him, finally taking in his sapphire-like eyes; they felt like coming home. 

“You’re full of shit, Barnes.” You remarked, rather coldly. “I know that your sister would have told you that I was back in town.” 

As you said that, you tilted your head to give the younger Barnes a wave. You had nothing against her. 

“I guess I was just not expecting to run into you like this.”

“That makes two of us.” You shrugged, setting down your glass. 

“It’s good to see you though.” 

“Can’t say the same…” 

[mork-lee-bee]

Broken Lovers III

Summary: Y/n is a hopeless romantic in love with someone who will never love her back and Jaehyun is helplessly in love with someone who only continues to hurt him over and over again, sounds like a match made in heaven right?

Pairings: CollegeStudent!Jaehyun X CollegeStudent!Y/N X CollegeStudent!Jaemin

Warnings: toxic relationships, toxic behavior, gas lighting, making you question your perception and memory, cursing but not excessively 

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

Previous

Next

It wasn’t a frigidly cold day for once which meant the walk across campus wasn’t horrible in fact it was almost nice except for the fact that it was six-forty five in the morning and Jaehyun was tired. His schedule only allowed for him to take this class as a seven in the morning one otherwise he would never have done it but sadly here he was up bright and early the sky had barely started to shift from the darkness into the light blue of the new day.

Jaehyun rubbed at his eyes before entering his class for today’s lecture and it was like clockwork as soon as he stepped into the class his phone started to buzz in his pocket. He paused causing the girl walking in behind him to let out an annoyed ‘HEY’.

“Sorry…” Jaehyun Mumbled stepping to the side to let the girl in while he slipped the phone out of his pocket to see the contact labeled Don’t answer that was the work of Yuta, of course, who insisted on blocking Heejin’s number but because of Jaehyun’s stubbornness opted to just change the contact name that used to say Beautiful Heejin.

The phone continued to buzz in his hand as he pushed his other hand through his hair trying to contemplate whether to answer or not. She hadn’t even attempted to call him in weeks she cut him off so coldly without any explanation.

“Shit,” He sighed before exiting out of the class and into the hall where most of the students awake walked like Zombies but Jaehyun suddenly felt so awake, his heart hammering out of his chest as he clicked the Answer button.

“J-Jae,” The voice on the other end of the phone, Heejin’s, broke up evidently crying. Jaehyun’s heart broke all over again at the sound of her voice.

“What do you want?” Jaehyun keeps his cool answering coldly trying not to attract the attention of people walking.

“I want to talk… what you heard wasn’t true- I would never hurt you…” She pleads almost sobbing into the phone as Jaehyun lets out a sigh.

“I can’t do this anymore Heejin, you’ve done nothing but hurt me,” Jaehyun raises his voice ever so slightly to let her know he’s not playing into her trap.

“Jaehyun y-you can’t be serious? We’ve been together for the past three years and you want to throw away all those happy memories because of one mistake-” her tone is ever so slightly shifting towards a more aggressive one as she becomes increasingly defensive over her actions.

“It wasn’t just once, this is the third time you’ve cheated on me, I’ve been trying to make it work with you for years and just when I think we’re in a good place you-” Jaehyun is quickly interrupted.

“So you’re just going to believe Yuta? You know he hates me and he has no evidence that I cheated, you know why? Because I didn’t. You know I would never do that to you, I honestly can’t believe you would just assume I cheated when you know I love you,” Heejin defends as Jaehyun pinches the bridge of his nose letting out a sigh.

“I can’t do this with you, I believe Yuta because he’s never shown any reason for me to not trust him,” Jaehyun is about to hang up the phone so he can get to his lecture but can’t seem to go through with ending the call.

“Please meet up with me,” Her tone takes a 180 from defensive to weak and fragile.

“I have class and I need time,” Jaehyun explains huffing out a sigh unable to make up his mind.

“Okay… I just want you to know that I would run back to you in a heartbeat I just hoped you’d do the same thing after everything we’ve been through…” and with that Jaehyun clicks the red button hanging up pushing his hair back out of his face with his free hand unsure of the conversation he had. He shouldn’t have answered in the first place but then again he wanted answers… But was it worth it? These are the thoughts going through his head as he enters his lecture distracted.

---

The professor’s voice becomes background noise after sitting down for about half an hour your mind finds interest elsewhere while you continue to take mindless notes you’d have to go over later. You regret signing up for a seven am class when so many people told you not to do it but you, of course, didn’t listen thinking it would be fine. 

The teacher wasn’t very expressive which you observed early on as he kept his hands by his side for the most part mainly speaking out, you got more expression from your dog at home than from your teacher but you couldn’t do anything. Your mind drifts off to thoughts that don’t revolve around the class, they go from fun childhood memories of you and Miyoung when you played out in front of your apartment complex laughing and screaming about how you were the queens of the world, then your mind drifts all the way to the first time you saw Jaemin. His relaxed posture and a breathtaking smile as he talked with his friend Jeno, that smile was enough to make your heart start doing somersaults and your brain to shut off for a moment. His hair was brown at that time and now was a stunning blue color that brought him a lot of attention.

“Hey, ____?” The girl next to you taps your shoulder as your thoughts become more focused and you give her a smile, Jennie is a sweet girl but is commonly intimidating to people who don’t know her.

“Yes?” You whisper back to her smiling as you continue to take notes she bites her lip a little hesitant but speaks anyways.

“I was just wondering how you know Jaehyun, I saw the two of you talking at the Neo house party,” She harmlessly asks and you shrug taking in a sigh.

“Oh… Ummm I mean I don’t really know him that well,” You admit not wanting to tell her ‘oh you know I don’t know him at all and it was a one night stand’.

“Really? You guys looked close so I assumed you knew each other,” She observed and you just silently think.

“Yeah, we’re just acquaintances,” You confirm turning back to your notes completely as the teacher continues on monotonously.

“Well, I’m glad he’s moving on,” The comment made you raise an eyebrow but not delve into it as it wasn’t any of your concern but you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious. You quickly refocused on the class though and put the conversation out of mind.

---

“Na Jaemin,” The barista working at Jaemin’s favorite small coffee shop, Neo Cafe, announces signaling his order is finished. Jaemin took his time though he was looking around the familiar coffee shop that smelled of fresh coffee and vanilla. There were fake vines hanging on the wall on one side of the shop away from the wide windows that people would occasionally glance through and allowed for some natural light to fill the small cafe. A couple sat in front of the windows smiling and talking quietly it wasn’t a busy afternoon which was nice.

“Thanks,” Jaemin smiles as he reaches out to grab his coffee from the girl working, she simply nods keeping her eyes trained on the counter looking downwards. So when Jaemin barely has a grip on the cup and she lets go it crashes onto the counter spilling. It gets all over Jaemin’s hoodie and the barista’s apron. The couple stops talking to look at what just happened a moment ago.

“I’m so sorry!” The girl’s eyes widen as she quickly runs and grabs a towel from the back to wipe up the mess, it’s starting to drip onto the floor on Jaemin’s side. The brown puddle kept growing so Jaemin made an attempt to help by grabbing some paper towels that were on the side and bending down to help.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s my fault the drink is ruined,” The girl tells Jaemin as she furrows her eyebrows angry with herself clearly.

“It’s okay…” Jaemin looks towards the girl’s name tag that hanging on her shirt, it’s a bit askew and also covered in coffee but he can make it out.

“____,” Jaemin smiles as he throws the paper towels into a nearby trashcan while ____ cleans up the counter.

“I’ll make you a new one free of charge,” The barista tells him, and before he can say anything she’s already getting started making his drink.

“You’re sweet,” Jaemin comments which causes the barista pause for a moment before continuing to make his drink.

“Thanks, you know, for not being mad I ruined your drink,” The barista, ____, touches the back of her neck before bringing over his drink this time with two hands.

“You must really enjoy a strong coffee,” The girl points out because he ordered a coffee with a bunch of espressos shots.

“This is only my first, you should see me after my sixth,” He smiles and the girl’s eyes go wide again in shock, he thought it was cute that she had a doe in the headlights sort of look as he looks over her face.

“How are you living?” The girl jokes leaning over the counter while they talk as there were no new customers to attend to.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin smiles taking a sip of his coffee while they continue to talk, Jaemin not even bothering to help his coffee-stained hoodie. 

“So what were we talking about?” ____ asks after she finishes with a customer and gives them their coffee pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Photography,” Jaemin smiles as he pulls up his very aesthetic photography Instagram profile to show her, there’s a lot of scenery pictures but also people ones scattered here and there.

“Wow, you’re really talented,” she gapes in awe scrolling through the countless photos.

“It’s al about technique angles and lighting, hey you should come to the photography club one of these days, I’m the president,” Jaemin smiles proudly.

“Sure, but you’ll have to show me because I literally know nothing about photography,” She points out handing the phone back to him.

“Yeah definitely, let me get your number,” Jaemin smiles handing the phone back over again but she gives him a wink.

“I already put my number in,” Jaemin’s turn to be surprised this time as he raises his eyebrows before tilting his head and scrolling through his contacts and sure enough her number was right there under ____ <3.

“You’re a step ahead of me,” Jaemin shakes his head before taking his drink and leaving, a big grin plastered on his face. The same grin that made your heart burst.

A/N: it’s posted later than usual but it’s up and I hope you enjoy it :3 I was late because I was working on my graduation cap today and got distracted and then I got gorilla glue on my hand and in other words I was a M E S S. Anyways if you want to be added to the tag list just leave a note so you’re easily alerted when I post the next chapter which will be on 7/4. Anyways have a wonderful day don’t be shy my messages and asks are always open and I love to look at them and answer them :)

P.S I’m a S L U T for coffee shop Au’s so if you have any like you could always send them my way because Y E S

Tag list ❤️ @yourchasingsunsetslove ❤️ @justineasian ❤️ @captainsjoongs ❤️ @theworld-accordingtocasey ❤️

[emerald-amidst-gold]

🦋👻👨‍🎤FOR FANE <3 <3 <3

Another FRIEND! My humble abode is so full of friends! Welcome, welcome! :D

Let's talk about our resident dragon, shall we? X3 Thank you so much for the ask! <3

🦋 ] does your muse have any unconventional interests? what are they?

One of the major things is that Fane relates a lot of things around him with color. He views the world as grey, as well as himself. He views Solas as 'blue', calm and soothing, an echo of the sky and its unending reach. He views rage and corruption as crimson or black, red hot or a desolating echo. A lot of this has to do with Fane's fixation around poetry and verse. It's also a part of his draconic side which sees color and emotion as the same thing. Red/anger. Blue/serenity. Black/despair. And grey is...the most complicated one for Fane to view because he feels like that color all the time.

So, taking that into account, Fane has a tendency to listen to music or read a certain wall of text (scripture in ruins or poetry) and relate everything he's hearing, seeing, and feeling with color. It's not really a hobby, I know, but it's something that not even many poets or eloquent people do. Many of his companions find it odd and try to question him about it, but then Fane locks up, won't share why he does it because he feels he shouldn't have to explain why. Solas understands, of course, but so does Cole, and it's why our dear cinnamon roll is one of Fane's closest friends next to Solas and Varric. :3

[ 👻 ] does your muse have regrets? what are some of their deepest ones?

So, we all know about the Well of Sorrows, of course, but did you know that Fane is literally the Well of REGRET? My boy has so many regrets. So many that I would be here all night listing them all, so like the second half of the question states, let's go with the deepest.

The first and probably most deepest regret Fane has is that he turned his back on his kin when he was a dragon. When the Evanuris began enslaving dragons along with the elves, Fane...hid. He stole away in the mountains, kept to the edges of the major cities of Elvhenan, and if he happened to stumbled upon one of his kin out in the wild, somehow managing to escape from magic leashes and mind shattering corruption, he would...leave them, ignore them. It was partly because of fear, fear of being turned into what he saw, into a slave. And another part, and the one Fane regrets feeling the most, is that he was filled with pride. He believed himself to be the only true dragon, strong, infallible, and one that would never be broken by pathetic magic of pathetic creatures who thought themselves 'gods'. And how did that turn out for him? Horribly, and Fane regrets it so deeply, so painfully, and it's why he will do anything to atone for his inaction.

"Why would you abandon everything we fought for, brother?! Why would you abandon me?! Is it because of Solas?! Is it because of something I did?!"

"No, My. This isn't just about Solas. And it has never been your fault. I know you don't understand, but--"

"Then make me understand! What's so important that you would betray the Inquisition, our friends?!"

"...My kin."

"Your...what?"

"...I don't have time to explain this to you. The Qunari are getting closer, and I have to get back to the Solas. I'm sorry, sister. Maybe one day I can explain the importance of...action over inaction to you, but not today. Today, you either turn your back or you fight. I choose to do the latter this time, but not for you, not for the Inquisition, not for Thedas, but for the world and the ones who were betrayed, who were leashed."

Another deep regret of Fane's kind pieces together with the one above and that's that he left Solas alone, alone to face a burden that they vowed to shoulder together. Solas had to kill Fane, guide his mind to rest when magic broke it and ancient weapons tore into ivory scales, painting a majestic body crimson and black, alone. Solas had to bear the grief of countless deaths, including Fane's, on his shoulders, alone. Solas had to sleep, power exhausted and mind weary as the world they both knew and loved crumbled, alone. Solas had to wake and wander in a world so stagnant, so quiet, so grey, alone.

Fane left Solas alone. And again, he will do anything to stay by his wolf's side this time, even if it means he has to bloody his hands with those who wish for Fane to be at their side instead. He will not forsake. He will not turn a blade against him.

"You must promise me, ma'isenatha, that if I stray, if I fall too far for your wings to follow, you must turn your back. Promise me.."

"Nothing will take me from you again, Solas. If you fall, I fall. If you stray, I stray. You won't be alone again, my sky. I won't allow it, and I'd rather break my back catching you then turn away."

"...You are an infuriating dragon, you understand that, yes?"

"I'm well aware, but that's why you love me, right?"

"Indeed it is, my heart. Indeed it is.."

[ 👨‍🎤 ] would your muse define themselves as rebellious or by-the-book? what are they, actually?

Fane would probably describe himself as a mixture of both? Like he doesn't conform to what the Dalish do, other than the vallaslin, but that was a personal choice. He goes to great lengths to disassociate entirely from the elves, even though deep down he wished he could be that...simplistic. On the other hand, his draconic nature has him fixating on order, on observing, and on accepting those observations as truth. Obviously, as I've said, Fane's nature is warped and observation and acceptance are replaced with assumptions and prejudice, but he still tries to do what his nature demands. Hence why Fane feels guilty every time he desires something. (Solas, hobbies, etc.).

And I would say he's both, too. Fane will do what he's told to an extent. Meaning, if he sees it as practical, worthwhile, and born from a place of knowledge and adept experience, then he'll follow it. If not...then Fane will make everyone's life a living hell and do it his way. *sweats nervously*

[paintedwithapalette]

SoKai Week Day 4 - Together

Words: 3,545

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Useless. 

Insignificant. 

Worthless. 

These were just a small portion of the words that ran through his mind as he trudged down the empty road with nothing and no one to keep him company aside from a backpack with water and a few of his favorite snacks. Sora stopped walking, planting his feet firmly in the middle of the asphalt road and the weight of his own loneliness truly settled in. 

This was it. He was going to go through with it. No backing out now. 

He tried, he really did. No one could say he didn’t. No one could say he didn’t train for days on end. No one could say he didn’t travel in hopes of looking for a cure that would bring an end to this horrible disease that plagued countless worlds. No one could say that he didn’t give it his best every single day and that he didn’t pour his own sweat, tears, and yes, sometimes even blood, into doing his absolute best to uphold the honor of being the chosen one. 

With his lifeless eyes, he summoned his Keyblade. Simple in its design but effective. A sentient Key that chose one person per generation to maintain order in the universe. To solve any problem that threatened the balance between light and darkness. Centuries of chosen wielders before him and only once had it chosen wrong. 

But as far as Sora was concerned, it chose wrong again. How was he supposed to live up to the legacy Zack Fair left behind? Sora couldn’t do anything on his own. Without Zack holding his hand, he was worthless. Maybe if he had developed any sort of competence in his months of training, he might have found a cure to resolve the geostigma crisis by now. Maybe he would’ve found a way to save the lives of thousands, no... millions... if he were someone else. Maybe if he were just a fragment of the man Zack was, he could’ve done something.  

And maybe, just maybe... he wouldn’t have let Eraqus die. 

Eraqus was counting on him to do something - to find a cure and bring him back to health. Sure, Sora was only sixteen and it was a lot of pressure to handle, but he had the Kingdom Key, so naturally that meant he was supposed to put the pieces of the puzzle together, right? 

Wrong. In the end, he was a failure who could only let down the people he cared about most. 

The boy chosen by the mysterious Kingdom Key. What a joke. 

As his eyes devoid of life wandered up and down the blade, he couldn’t help but wonder why. Why did the Keyblade choose him? It must have had its reason, it always did, but whatever reasons they were didn’t connect with him. All he wanted was a simple life where he could be a regular teenager, have fun with his friends, and just be normal. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for this responsibility. This pressure. The weight of the world sitting on his shoulders when he wasn’t even old enough to drink. None of it made any sense. 

It must’ve been a mistake. The fact that he let Eraqus die proved it was a mistake. Sora gripped the handle of his blade so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

“You were wrong!” Sora yelled as he tossed the Keyblade, sending it crashing into the pavement. Sora glared, as hard as he could before he settled into his prior look of indifference. He turned on his heel to leave the Kingdom Key in the middle of the road, hoping that it got run over by a car before he felt something pop back into his hand with an accompanied flash of light. Sure enough, when he looked down, it was the Kingdom Key refusing to leave his side. 

Clenching his teeth, Sora hurled the Keyblade once again. And like a broken record, he heard that familiar flash and the Keyblade return to his possession. With an agonized cry, Sora threw the Keyblade a number of times, his uncharacteristic sense of anger and resentment fueling every futile attempt at discarding himself of the burden the universe set on him. 

After a while, he hadn’t even noticed the fact that he threw his backpack aside and that dark sky was now dropping pellets of raint. His mind could only focus on trying his best to keep the Keyblade away and maybe eventually it would get the memo and just stop returning to him. But it never did. No matter how many times Sora pushed the Keyblade away, it kept stubbornly coming back. 

After his final attempt and the Keyblade returned once again, Sora stopped, his breathing heavy and dense. The rain continued to drench his clothes and slide down his brown spikes. When the dust cleared and his anger subsided and all that was left was... 

Sadness. 

It was the utmost level of dejection he had felt all day. It was clear that there was no way that the Kingdom Key would be leaving his side. But why? He was obviously no good. He was positive there was someone out there better than him to save all of the lives that were being ruined by this geostigma ordeal. 

That was why he had to kill himself. 

The Kingdom Key typically didn’t switch users until the current one was deceased. Then, and only then, would the Kingdom Key move on to the next suitor. Maybe if he was erased from the equation, the Kingdom Key would find someone strong, confident, and sure of themselves enough they would be able to locate some sort of remedy to this ever-growing dilemma affecting the worlds. Someone like Riku. His best friend. He always wanted to be the chosen one. Compared to Sora, he actually deserved it. 

Yes, it was the only way. He would go to the Play Island. Spend his final day appreciating all of the memories he and he friends had made during his sixteen years of existence, enjoy his final meal, write a letter to his friends saying how much he’ll miss them, how much he would miss her, and then… he’d plunge himself in the deepest, darkest depths of the sea and - 

“Sora!” 

He heard a voice. Her voice. 

Sora turned around and there she was; she looked like a ray of hope as she stood underneath the light of a street lamp - wet wrinkles drooping from her clothes and her hair drenched. A shivering sheen of liquid covered her eyes as her worried and gloomy expression told Sora everything he needed to know. 

Sora’s eyes still remained lifeless and that bothered Kairi even more. He couldn’t even look her in the face. Not if he wanted to suppress the tremendous guilt that came about over what he was about to do. They stood in silence, Kairi’s lips quivering. She’d never seen him like this - at his lowest. She barely recognized the person standing before her. This wasn’t the usual, upbeat, cheerful Sora she knew. 

But she was going to bring him back. 

“What are you doing here?” Sora asked. 

Kairi shook her head. “That doesn’t matter,” she answered. “I think the better question is what are you doing out here?” 

Sora opened his mouth but realized it wasn’t such a simple question with a simple answer. The layers to the situation were too vast for Kairi to understand. Even still, despite what he thought, Kairi had an inkling for why he was out there. His reaction back at the hospital gave her enough of a hint. 

“It’s not your fault,” was the first thing Kairi said after a stint of silence. 

“How can you say that?!” Sora asked, his frustration flaring. “How is it not my fault, Kairi?! I’m the one the Kingdom Key chose! I’m the one everyone expects to do something about this, and I just… I-I can’t, okay? I just can’t!” 

“But no one is putting this on you,” Kairi reminded. “This was just... an unfortunate incident that no one could have predicted. You can’t blame yourself for that.” 

“And why can’t I? I was the one everyone expected to do something about it. But I couldn’t. I can’t. And he’s dead.” 

Kairi didn’t say anything for a moment before she opened the gates of conversation once again. “Sora. Why are you out here?” she asked again. Like before, she received no answer. “Whatever is going on, we can figure it out. I’m here for you, Sora! I told you that I would be and I meant that.” 

Sora shut his eyes, holding back the tears he didn’t want Kairi to see. He really didn’t deserve her. And she deserved better than him. “Kairi... I’m sorry... I just can’t do this anymore...”

She was almost afraid to ask. “What... what do you mean by that?” 

Through the rain, he smiled. Though, clearly a sad one. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with me anymore. Maybe... you’ll find someone better to worry over. You’re an amazing person, the way you look after your sister, Haru, me...” Sora’s eyes lowered. “I think I can truly say that I’ve never met someone like you before. I guess that’s why... I fell in love with you.” 

Kairi gasped, her eyes wide as saucers. He said it. He really said it. 

“I guess now at least... I won’t have any regrets,” Sora continued. “I wanted to at least tell you that, but I just couldn’t find the right time or place... but now, when you think of me, you’ll know. You’ll know how I feel. How I always felt.” 

“What are you talking about, you dummy?” Kairi asked, her voice choking as she used both arms to wipe away her tears like a child scolded by their parents. To see him acting so uncharacteristic hurt more than she ever anticipated. “Why are you saying these things, Sora?” 

“Please don’t cry,” Sora said gently. “I know it’s hard, but you’re strong Kairi. You’ll be okay. I know you will.” 

“What are you talking about?! Answer me, Sora!” 

“I know Riku has always liked you,” Sora continued, as if he weren’t even listening. “You know, he asked me once if I wanted to talk to you before he did. But I didn’t think I had a chance. Maybe I still don’t. So, I let him know that I wouldn’t take offense if he talked to you first. So, I guess I just thought it wouldn’t be right to tell you how I feel knowing how Riku felt. But it won’t matter now. Even still, I wanted to at least let you know...”

“Stop that!” Kairi cried out, clutching her chest as the pain in her heart swelled. She didn’t even bother trying to stop the stream of tears pouring from her eyes. “J-Just stop!” 

Sora sighed. He supposed the least she deserved was an explanation. “Don’t feel bad... I think I just realized that the Kingdom Key made a mistake. All I’m going to do is fix that mistake. I’ll make things right.” 

“You don’t really mean that...”

“If you, or Riku, Donald, Goofy, the King, Roxas, Naminé... you,” he almost stuttered. “If any of you got geostigma... what am I supposed to do then? I’m not going to sit here and watch as my friends die because I’m too weak to save any of you! I can’t do that, Kairi. That’s why...” he said, hesitating, “it’ll be best for everyone if I’m not here.” 

“Do you hear yourself right now?!” Kairi yelled. “You’re not even thinking about how much it’ll hurt the rest of us if something happened to you! How it’ll hurt me... doesn’t... doesn’t that matter to you?” 

Sora couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. “You’ll be better off,” he stated bluntly. “Trust me.” 

“Sora, you’re not in your right mind! None of the previous chosen ones have been perfect. You can’t expect that of yourself. We’ll get you some help. I’ll help you! Let’s just go back to the hospital and figure this out! We can do it together!” 

When he found the willpower to look in her eyes, it was a face Kairi was certain she didn’t recognize. That droopy exterior of his only brought one word to mind for her. 

Loneliness. 

She could tell that her words weren’t getting through to him. No matter what kind of logic she mustered, it couldn’t connect. It looked like the Sora she knew was gone, but she refused to believe that. He must have been there... somewhere, deep inside. Kairi just had to pull that out. 

“Kairi... I’m sorry,” Sora said, breaking the silence. “I don’t want you to follow me. I don’t want you to see what’s about to happen... but just... I know what I’m doing. And this is the right thing to do.” 

“No, it isn’t!” 

“The Kingdom Key will move on to someone better. They’ll find a cure and maybe they’ll find a way to save all of the lives ruined by geostigma. Maybe it’ll be someone who wasn’t chosen by accident.” 

“Sora!” 

“You won’t be alone. Roxas, Naminé, Lea, Xion... Riku... they’ll be here for you.” 

“Sora, listen to me!” 

“And just know that to me, you were someone very special.” He smiled sadly. “From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were someone special. I think... leaving you is what’s going to hurt the most.” Sora felt some tears sneak up on him and he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket. “But... this is what’s going to be for the best. For everybody. I know it won’t be easy, but just know that when I’m gone, I always appreciated you for the way you made me feel better even on my worst days. You always supported me through and through. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend…and the time we spent together...  will always be precious to me.” 

At this point, Kairi was bawling. Each and every word stung harder than the last. How could he be saying these things while knowing what he was about to do? She couldn’t make sense of it but she knew she wasn’t supposed to. She just wanted him to snap out of it, but how? 

Sora was such an amazing person. The way he lit up a room with just his presence. The way his smile made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. The way he brought people together. The way he cared for other people. That was why the Keyblade had chosen him. It wasn’t because he was the strongest, the fastest, the toughest... that wasn’t how the Keyblade went about its choosings. It was the kind of person he was. His compassion for others. His kindness. All of the good points. Why wasn’t he seeing that? 

Then again, she had dealt with someone with depression before. Naminé had been struggling with it for years, so this was just another case of that. But even Naminé had never been this severe. And Kairi was left unsure what to do. All she could do was cry and hope that her tears were enough to convince him that everything his brain was telling him was wrong. But it wasn’t that easy. 

The pain wouldn’t stop. It was welling up deep inside and was bursting at the seams. She clenched her fists and stopped listening to her head, but her heart. What was she supposed to do? She had to do whatever felt right in that moment. 

She didn’t have long to ponder, however, as Sora turned around. “Kairi... goodbye.”

“I LOVE YOU, TOO!” 

That’s when everything stopped. Sora whirled back around, his eyes wide and confused. He didn’t hear that, right? “What...?” 

“I love you, too,” she said softly. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No,” Sora affirmed. “You can’t do that. That’s not true. You like Riku, and you’ve always -” 

“Oh, so now you know how I feel?!” Kairi asked, her temper flaring up again. “It doesn’t work that way! Stop acting like you know everything and listen to me for once!” When he didn’t say anything, Kairi took that as her cue to continue. “I’m sorry, Sora, but you can’t speak on behalf of my feelings. And I’m not just saying this because I don’t want you to do anything stupid. I’m saying it because it’s true.” Her tears continued to flow freely. “I... I love you, too, Sora.” 

Sora stopped, letting the revelation process. “W-Why are you telling me this now?”

“I’m a coward too, sometimes.” She chuckled humorlessly. “But you deserve to know. You’re special to me, too. You made me realize that I do have more to offer to the world. You always make my day better. You’re always there for me and... I love you. I love you so, so much, Sora.”  

His mind was so foggy and cluttered that it didn’t even seem like a possibility. He thought he was nothing more than a friend she cared deeply for. Though, he supposed even if that were the case, she still wouldn’t be okay with his plans. 

Still, what was he supposed to do? Wasn’t he supposed to end things here and now, allowing the Keyblade to move on to a more suitable wielder? Sure, he could still do that, but knowing that Kairi returned his feelings, all this time... it definitely made it a bit harder for him to do that. 

“What am I supposed to do…?” Sora asked quietly to no one in particular. When Kairi didn’t have an answer, Sora’s conflicted emotions exploded in the form of a scream as he put his hands on his forehead. He fell to his knees, his hands still hovered over his ears. During his clouded thoughts convincing him that suicide was the only answer, he almost forgot about it. 

Love. 

Not just the love he had for others, but the fact that others loved him, too. 

And Kairi loved him in that way? He could hardly process it. 

Kairi raced towards him in a panic, her black and pink boots splashing in the murky puddles until she kneeled down to make sure he was okay. Sora found the strength to look up from his state of confusion. “You’re... not lying to me, are you? You’re not just saying that?” he asked. His voice almost sounded desperate. Kairi figured he was still dealing with the thoughts that convinced him he was being lied to. So, she figured the only way to prove it to him was to show him. 

And show him she did, as she pressed her lips against his. 

It caught him by surprise for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to give in as he shut his eyes. The rain continued to pour during their moment that edged dangerously close to the margin of passion. It was a longing and need that hadn’t been quenched for either of them in what felt like so long. It took just about every fiber of strength in them both to break apart, as Kairi wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pressing her forehead with his. 

“Do you believe me now?” Kairi asked. 

The question was enough to give Sora the ghost of a smile, but it didn’t take long before it returned to its prior frown. “I guess I just don’t know... if I’m someone worth loving.” 

“Stop that,” Kairi demanded. “You don’t get to decide how I feel. And this is what I feel. So, you’re just going to have to deal with it. I don’t care what you say.” 

Silent tears continued to fall from her eyes as she continued to hug him. Sora gradually went from standing on his knees to sitting cross-legged, but Kairi didn’t let go. She needed him to know that she wouldn’t let go. That he had someone there for him that would never let go. Their damp clothes and the fact that they were very likely to catch a serious cold didn’t matter... as long as they had each other. 

“Don’t you ever go doing something like that again, okay?” Kairi asked. “That’s not the Sora I fell in love with.” 

Sora felt his eyes beginning to well up. She was right. He couldn’t believe he was seriously considering that. So many people were counting on him. The Kingdom Key chose him for a reason, and while it may not have been a reason he understood, it knew what he was capable of inside. 

And, if nothing else, he had this amazing girl there to support him. To save him from himself. He forgot that his bonds with the people closest to him was what gave him strength. He had to be thankful for that. 

“I’m... so sorry, Kairi,” Sora said, choking up. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Kairi repeated. “Promise me.” 

She knew how seriously Sora took his promises. Once he made one, he would never, ever break it. “I promise.” 

Kairi mustered up a smile through her tears as she nuzzled into Sora’s soft hair. “It’s going to be okay,” she comforted. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” 

_______

Shoutout to my amazingly talented friend @blissfulnightrain​ for drawing this this page! You’ll be able to check out the full piece on her page! 

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

“There is no me without a you.” (Paladin Danse x Reader)

(Au! Where Danse doesn’t read rivet city and the reader is a friend of his and Cutler’s. Also I guess the reader technically isn’t sole..so enjoy! It’s an idea I had brewing for a long time.)

The thought made your stomach turn. That was putting it lightly.

For years it had been just you, Cutler, and his weirdo buddy- Danse. You were family, the only one you’ve known or at least cared to consider as such. So many nights had passed where your friends laughter was the only thing that kept you willing to face the next day, both of their grins forever imprinted in your mind and usually serving as the only things you could trust in the life you led.

It was rough. You had came to the shelter of Rivet City seeking to make a fortune as a merchant, having left home and everything you once knew to do so. The first couple of weeks hadn’t been easy, you had barely even gotten by but..then, by some miracle, some flame-haired man with a seemingly permanent smug grin came strolling up to your stand, a tall- handsome fella with dark hair close behind him. That fucker that interrupted your business introduced himself and his bashful friend, Cutler and Danse were their names...and of course, you started the beautiful relationship off by asking them just where the hell they came up with such “crap-tastic” names. Indeed, it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

It was the recollection of memories such as these that made tears blur your vision, each step you took forward feeling more labored than the one before. Days ago those same goofy men you met all those years ago, the ones you’ve grown to love so much, had said they were going off to join some crazy ass organization in the capital- begging you to come along as well.

As much as you adored your friends, neither of them were all that bright. At least not if they couldn’t see just how dangerous this thing they wanted to run off and join was. You had an uncanny gift of being able to see when something was a catastrophically bad idea, and this was certainly one of them.

Shaking your head, you did the best you could to blink away the built up tears- having realized that you were at your desired location.

Danse’s rickety shack.

The poor man really needed to brush up on his building skills.

At least that made you laugh, even if it was choked up and sounded more pitiful than anything. Regardless, you carefully knocked on the door- unaware of where to begin. All you knew was that your time was limited to figure it out, the much expected rattling of metal being able to be heard from the other side within seconds, signaling that Danse was both indeed home and also on his way to answer the door.

Fuck.

Much too soon, the door opened up and revealed the man you once ridiculed for his unfortunate name. His stoic, yet lovely amber eyes softening as soon as they fixated upon your familiar form. Damn, he was such a sight to behold. Even wearing a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up and some ripped jeans, he was undeniably attractive. The acknowledgment of this fact made your heart skip a beat, your breath hitching in your throat as your eyes met his own.

Over the years you’ve known him, danse and yourself had became close- very close. You grew as people together, spent a couple nights out alone while Cutler reaped the spoils of being able to trick some person from the bar into bed with him, and even danced around the line of becoming a little more than friends every once in a while.

“(Y/n)..? What’s going on? Is something amiss? Nevermind that, please, come inside.” That deep, raspy voice tore you away from the invasive thoughts you were so deeply enthralled with. With a graceful like motion, the bulky man stepped to the side and allowed you to enter the his humble little home.

Of course you obliged, your knees growing week as you bumbled to his beaten up couch- sinking down into it’s plush as soon as you sat. However you weren’t alone long, Danse quickly following you, having no problem with sitting right beside you.

Funny, years ago when you first met, he barely seemed to be able to talk without Cutler doing the legwork of the conversation.

Now here he was, his arm resting on the back of the couch right behind your hunched over body. Practically beckoning you to just say “screw it” and cuddle right up into his side, hell, the man practically radiated warmth so there was very little holding you back at the moment. There were more important things to tend to now...

Steadying yourself, you tried your very best to put on a strong face. Straightening your back and giving him the “serious” look, or as Cutler called it, your “bitch face.” Whatever the look would be called, you just hoped he couldn’t see right through you. Because as it stood now, anxiety courses through your veins like a terrible icy brook- threatening to steal your spirit itself and make you retreat and forgo this plan of your’s.

For just a moment, it almost won. Your gaze shifted over to Danse’s coffee table, taking notice of the disassembled pistol that laid upon the horribly scratched wooden surface. Heh, he might’ve been a terrible architect but Danse sure as hell could modify guns. It was cute really, how invested he’d become in something so complex. Sometimes you’d come over in need of a friend and he’d keep you company by explaining how to modify a 10mm pistol’s barrel, all while doing so.

Your eyes fell close now, a hollowness in your chest. It was time. It was now or never. Later wouldn’t exist, especially since you refused to run off and join the brotherhood.

“D..danse..?” Your voice stammered out in a way that you despised, sounding so scared..like you truly were. That in its self was enough to make the relaxed look on danse’s face morph into one of concern, his weight shifting as he leaned more towards you.

Did he feel it too? Did he also want to embrace you as badly as you wanted to embrace him?

After a moment of waiting, he audibly gulped. Your obvious distress filled the poor man with worry, he..he didn’t like seeing you feel this way. “Yes?” Now even his own voice was demure as it urged you to continue.

The muscles in your legs clenched in response, adrenaline beginning to run its course.

Why was this so hard? All you had to do wa-

“I can’t stand it Danse.” Real Nice. Real good start. God you hated yourself already. “You two..you two asshats want to go play soldier and I can’t stand it..” oh yeah, only getting better, but the words just wouldn’t stop coming..and the affects of them wouldn’t heel either. “You-you’re Just going to leave me..and I..I get it because you want to find purpose b-but..”

Now you truly felt foolish, your face contorted and the anguish you felt deep inside made itself blatantly apparent by your expression. As though that wasn’t enough, those tears you thought were gone away came back with a vengeance. The longer you looked at the now confused man, the more your chest hurt and the more obvious the feeling a hot tears rolling down your cheeks became.

Everything just hit you all at once and it wasn’t fair. How could they just decide to leave what you all had together? Was it not good enough? Was it not what their purpose was? Better yet, how could he leave you like this? How was it right for him to swoop in one day, make you feel something and fall for the bastard, only to one day down the road decide that no, this isn’t what he wants? How was any of this fair?

“I..I um, I didn’t realize how much this affected you..” Danse’s shaky voice replied, his hands cautiously reaching out to pull you towards him. Countless times before when he felt emotional distress, you had grabbed him, embraced him without second thought and each time you did it, it crazily enough brought some degree of comfort to him. “I apologize but I’m not the-..oh (y/n)..” His chest heart seeing you cry.

In a way, as it stands now, you’re not the only one in need of a hug anyways- so as he pulled you close to him, the relief was felt on both ends.

For you, he’d try anything to help ease the sorrow you felt. However it was no secret Danse was absolutely terrible at these kinds of things, any extreme display of emotion generally made him uncomfortable..but seeing you like this? It made him feel a deep, sorrowful pain in his chest. Why? He didn’t entirely know the answer, at least not a straightforward and simple answer at that. You somehow always managed to elicit such passionate emotions in him, ones that he hardly understood- after all he was not by any means an overly emotional man.

As sobs wracked your body, he couldn’t help but feel the compulsion to shed a tear as well in response to your pain. A pain that he knew that ultimately, he caused. That hurt. That hurt really bad. Before he could even process what it exactly was he felt, a single tear slid down his cheek as well, his arms tightening and squeezing you the slightest bit in search for the comfort your embrace usually brought.

Time slowed down in an almost ethereal manner suddenly, all that pain you felt facing reality slowly began to subdue to a throbbing ache in your chest- sobs transforming to soft sniffles and a vivid embrasser blush as you hid your face in his form chest- his scent providing a minimal amount of comfort despite reminding you of how much of an idiot you probably seemed like.

Now there really wasn’t anything to say...except what you came to say anyways. Well..it was somewhat of a sad win/win situation. If you confess to your more than platonic feelings for the brooding man, he could either return the feeling and maybe, just maybe you could convince him to stay....or he doesn’t and then at least you won’t have to live with the shame of ruining your friendship for long seeing as he’d be leaving with Cutler soon.

Feeling as though your whole world was on the brink of shattering right before your eyes, you withdrew from the man- not daring to go back enough to break away from the comfort of his arms around you, instead only enough so that you could get a proper look at his dumbfounded- almost heartbroken looking face.

“Please..Danse, don’t..don’t leave me. I can’t take it. You- you mean the world to me..” your voice was barely over a whisper but you knew he heard you loud and clear, his eyebrows scrunching into a slanted, concerned look as guilt flashed in those beautiful puppy dog like eyes.

He cleared his throat, carefully contemplating his next words as he licked his lips- his eyes unconsciously gazing down to look at your own as he did so. “I’m sorry (y/n), I..I didn’t think I’d hurt you so badly..I should’ve been more considering..” for a second he paused, the next words sounding painful to even utter. “Especially considering how close of...friends..we are.”

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Without better sense, you leaned forward right after his words- knowing words would get you nowhere with him. Actions. Actions worked. As such, you willed yourself not to scream as you finally connected your lips with his own- the very thing you’ve wanted to do since he first lowered his walls and let you get to know him all those years ago.

A muffled groan of surprise could be heard but you didn’t care, he wasn’t trying to push you off yet..so that was good. In fact, unbeknownst to yourself, Danse’s eyes fluttered closed as soon as the shock of the situation subsided and suddenly he found himself pressing back and trying his very best to let you know he returned the affection before it was too late.

Damn, he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you at your stand. How crazy..

As the kiss deepened, Danse could feel his heart pounding in his chest, all the feelings hitting him like a charging raider in power armour. Regardless of how confused he was, he couldn’t help but follow his instincts- which landed him laying back on his raggedy old couch with you laid lazily on top of his body, his legs on either side of your hips. For it being an entirely innocent moment, it surely was a provocative position and had he been in his right mind- he likely would’ve flipped out and had a heart attack.

Eventually you had to end the fantastical moment, the need to breath becoming too great to deny any longer. So, with a viciously bright red blush and pure terror in your eyes despite your watery grin, you gazed down upon him.

“A..actually, that’s what I wanted to..to um talk to you about.” It was about now, as you panted, you realized just how you were sitting. “Danse, I want to be something more than just your..your friend.”

The very second he processed what you said, his thick eyebrows practically ascended half his forehead, his jaw dropped and his eyes became the size of saucers.

Boy, his expressions never ceased to amuse you. Even now when shame should’ve been consuming you, he made you giggle.

“Are you...are you saying that you’re in love with me?” He asked in pure disbelief, his hands courageously settling upon your hips to rest despite his sudden urge to fidget and twitch his fingers. Nerves making his stomach tighten painfully even though you just plainly made your intentions clear.

“Yes Danse, I’m in love with you..you fucker, I wouldn’t act so crazy if I wasn’t..”

Once again, words usually didn’t suffice with Danse..so, you leaned in for another kiss. This time he was prepared and he sure as hell wasnt going to disappoint.

He loves you too, you truly are crazy if you think he’ll ever leave you now.

Who knows, maybe one day you and Danse will get to live the happily ever after. Run a decent stand, Get hitched, maybe even have a couple babies way down the road and be the parents you both wished you could’ve had. Cutler, that bastard, was just going to have to stay too if he liked it or not.

Besides...what fun would it be to be whatever the hell a Brotherhood of Steel soldier is? Pfft, what even is a Paladin?

[anthropwashere]

Phic Phight: these lofty thoughts are killing me

Prompt from @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter: Undergrowth Sam AU. Sam’s time as mother of Undergrowth’s garden left it’s scars - and scars can go deep. Sam’s always known she shared a close connection with plants, but now she hears them. She knows what they think and what they feel and can control them. On one hand it’s terrifying, but on the other… The ghosts should be a lot more terrified of her now.

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 4,604

=

Sam tries not to think about then.

Maybe it's better to say she tries not to think about the gaping hole in her memory where then ought to be.

She's hardly the only one in that particular boat. The whole of Amity Park suffers from a ghost-induced amnesia spanning over a week. It's all anyone talks about for ages; where they were when the plants attacked, where they were when they finally woke up again. Trying to make sense of senselessness. And even now, months after the fact, there are still traces of that city-wide attack not yet repaired. Cracked concrete, homes and business too ravaged to salvage, miles of withered vines with thorns like carving knives, enormous mummified plants with mammalian fangs in human mouths, swathes of green-limned ice that refuses to melt even now. 

(Every time one of the three of them finds another frozen chunk of Amity Park Danny moves ASAP to take care of it, since not even anything his parents have cooked up can do much damage to it. The guilt twisting Danny up is horrible to watch unfold across his weary face; made worse still because for all that he and Tucker insist otherwise, it really was her fault.)

There's no hiding it: Amity Park was shaken to its foundations by Undergrowth. Even more so, perhaps, than by Pariah Dark. The Ghost King had transported the entire city directly into the Ghost Zone and did his utmost to run it to ruin with his army of skeleton ghosts. It had been a terrifying and impossible experience, and everyone can agree they only got out of that one thanks to Phantom. But the thing is, everyone in Amity Park can remember Pariah Dark's attack.

But Undergrowth? Flashes and flickers of almosts and maybes at best for everyone involved, and that is somehow so much more terrifying. What did they do? What were they made to do? How many missing and confirmed dead weren't taken by the towering ghost and all its myriad minions, but by one of them? Are they ever going to remember what happened? Is it better if they don't? 

And on, and on, and Sam's right alongside everyone else except in every way she isn't. Yes, she doesn't remember anything. But she knows she's at fault, because Danny told her just so.

Not in so many words, of course. He's too good for that. Too good a person, too good a ghost, too good a hero. He would never lay the blame for anything terrible that happened at anyone's feet but his own. He wasn't good enough, strong enough, fast enough—and on, and on. Never mind that he went and scrounged up and mastered an entirely new subset of powers just to counter Undergrowth—

(and her)

—and never mind the countless lives he did save. People were hurt, and worse, because he thinks he wasn't the hero Amity Park thinks he is. That's just the way he is.

Undergrowth was wrong. Sam knew that. She knew that. He was too extreme, too insane, too insistent on terraforming the entire planet to suit his self-aggrandizing whim to consider the consequences for whatever else lives here. Not just self-centered jerks with their gas-guzzling cars and plastic, one time use lives. There are so many people out there who understand what Sam's trying to do here in Amity, who do so much more to fight the ceaseless grinding up of Earth's finite resources than what one fourteen year old can do on her own. There are good people in the world fighting the evil and corrupt and greedy. There’s good in this world. You can't just—wipe the slate clean and start fresh.

You can't.

=

Sam remembers—the first attack. 

Sam remembers—waking up after it was all over. 

She remembers feeling sick and sluggish. Boneless. Dizzy and swooping like she'd downed too much cold medicine. Limbs slow to react, her thoughts even slower. She remembers her surroundings like a badly dubbed old kung fu movie; everyone moving at exaggerated angles, their voices not matching their mouths. She remembers Danny blinking too quickly, like he was trying not to cry he was so glad to see she was okay.

She remembers thinking with a cold and sullen fury, How dare he? 

What the fuck? had followed right on the heels of that, thankfully, because she’d had no idea why she'd ever in a million years be so angry with her best friend.

She remembers—knowing time had passed. Too much time. A dangerous and scary amount of time. And she remembers looking around and seeing the city halfway destroyed. And she remembers—

—guilt.

Guilt that made no sense until Danny, hours and hours later, faltered through an obviously edited summary of the week Amity Park forgot. She and Tucker had both blinked at him, and at each other, horrified and dismayed to find that Danny had had to do so much all on his own, that they'd been so vulnerable, so useless—

—but there'd been no guilt in Tucker's expression. No sign of the guilt that tangled up her guts in a cat's cradle until she was certain she'd throw up—

—and then she did have to throw up, staggering off to the bathroom in her basement, barely able to slam the door and fall to her knees before the toilet in time. She hates throwing up, hates the sweating and the shaking, hates the smell and the sound, hates how no matter what something always gets stuck in her nose. She'd screwed her face up tight so she didn't have to watch, rode out the worst of it, then sat there breathing wetly and hating life for a minute.

One of the boys had knocked gently on the bathroom door. "You okay?"

"Guh," she replied, throat hurting terribly at the effort. 

Sam remembers—opening her eyes, and the fear, and the confusion, and the certainty that she couldn't tell anyone, ever.

The toilet bowl had been full of flowers. 

=

That hasn't happened since, and—as far as she can tell—there haven't been any health issues that could have sprung up from having an indeterminate amount of flora taking root in her digestive system. 

She hasn't gone out much since then. School, patrol, the ghost attacks that invariably spring up outside of when she's penciled in time for a little extra chaos. She's made up excuses whenever Danny and Tucker invite her to hang out. She hasn't gone shopping or to a movie or any other perfectly normal after-school activity.

She's not hiding.

She's not.

It's just... easier, to not be around people any more than the barest necessity. At least until she feels... settled again. Normal again. For her, and for whatever 'normal' is worth in a town regularly terrorized by bigger and toothier and crueler ghosts with every passing month. It's fine. Danny's got Tucker and Jazz for the attacks that she's slow to arrive for, and Danny is—

Danny can handle himself. He's strong. He's amazing. He took Undergrowth—

(and her)

—down all on his own, no power suit or ghostly backup needed. It's fine.

Her parents seem to have miraculously caught on for once that she really does need some space; after the initial handsy-hugsy panicked relief the first couple days after Undergrowth, they gave her space (and anything else she asked for too, for that matter), only prodding her gently to come inside to eat now and then. Which she's grateful for, really, because she's pretty sure she wouldn't remember to eat at all without some prodding.

Something about eating rubs her wrong, now. The resistance of a carrot clenched between her teeth, the juicy flesh of an orange slice bursting under pressure, rice grains squirming like maggots on her tongue. She made a salad two days ago and couldn't stop thinking of the glamorized crime scenes from all those police procedural shows on TV; oversaturated, garish, someone's life torn open in a tasteless arrangement of stiff limbs. 

A cabbage is not a person. Cucumbers are not people. Almonds are a good source of protein.

Damn it.

Most of the time she hides—relaxes—in her greenhouse. Tucker had cracked a joke about that, though it had gone in one ear and out the other. Something something, bad taste. Blah blah, she's gone native. Didn't I tell you plants are the enemy?

Danny had laughed. Sam had to fight to keep her hands loose at her sides, to let it roll off like it didn't hurt while she tried to remind herself that it shouldn't hurt. That had earned her another tally in the ‘needing time away from people’ column. Not like, total isolation. School. Patrol. Dinner with her parents and grandma. She still does things with people. But every minute she's not in her greenhouse she feels this—this hand around her heart. This tightness that squeezes just enough that she's never not aware of it, and it's become so, so much easier for her to startle, to flinch from loud noises, to find herself overstimulated by her friends laughing as she is people screaming in the wake of ghosts. The hand squeezes until she can hardly breathe, and she thinks of the flowers she'd thrown up and thinks of roots, and thorns, and the fragility of her lungs, and it gets so hard to breathe—

Nobody's caught her breaking down yet. She hopes she can keep it that way. She hopes she can get over this—this anxiety, or fear, or whatever this is. 

But for all that she spends so much time in her greenhouse, the only place she doesn't feel that hand around her heart, she can't really say she's all that relaxed there either.

=

Another day put between then and now. Life around Amity Park is just about back to normal. If she's feeling generous with her definition of normal, anyway. She's made it through school without any issues and now she's free to hide—relax!—for a few hours in her greenhouse before one of her parents will come tapping at the door.

"Hey guys," she says, lackluster.

The whole greenhouse shivers at the sound of her voice.

Yep. That's totally normal. Nothing weird about that at all!

Ugh.

She goes through her after-school checklist by rote memory, biting her tongue to keep herself from the usual silly commentary she used to say along with it. She's learned better.  Undergrowth did—something to her. Something she's lied through her teeth about to Danny and Tucker, assuring them that she's fine, she's normal, there aren't any lingering effects from—whatever it was. Is. She's different now. Not outwardly, not in any of the ways Danny risks being discovered as inhuman every single day. She's not like Danny. She's still human.

She is.

But she can still do inhuman things. Or—not do. Nothing as active as ghost rays or flight or anything fun. But she can—influence. She still has an inhuman influence, and it's all she can do to keep her garden still.

Even with her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw aches and a headache blooms—nngh—at her temples, the slightest graze of her fingers across a leaf makes whatever plant she's touched quiver. When she picks up her pruning shears to clean up the tomato plants she can see them flush bigger and brighter before her very eyes. There's the tiniest, softest—niggling in the back of her mind, an itch on her teeth and goosebumps down her skin.

(mother)

She drops the shears. Before she can move to grab them a tendril of healthy green leaves curls off of the trellis to pluck them up out of the dirt and deposit them neatly in her numb hands again.

"...Thanks," she grits out.

All of the tomatoes swell to the size of tennis balls, their leaves straining to catch up. Two of the nearest ones split their blood red skins open to beam beatifically at her. There are teeth in their dripping grins, or something shaped enough like teeth to curdle her stomach.

"Stop."

The grins shrink, though the seams remain. She resolves to never eat those two. The thought of throwing them out however, is almost as revolting. She leaves without finishing the after-school checklist, opting to hide in the basement bowling alley with her grandma until dinner. It's not half as relaxing as it used to be.

=

She can't avoid her greenhouse. Not even for a day. Her garden needs daily attention. It needed it—before. 

It did.

Now the thought of ignoring it, even for an afternoon, makes her physically ill. So she doesn't know if it's guilt for not finishing her after-school checklist earlier or something—else, something left in her from then—

—she tries, she tries, she tries to remember anything from then, but there's only—

—hunger, and anger, and pride for her—

—her—

—her children. 

Nothing concrete. Nothing real. Nothing she can make use of. All she knows is that she's different, and it's most obvious here in her chil—

—garden. Her garden.

They won't hurt her. No matter what she says or does, this she knows for certain. Her garden will never hurt her.

Somehow, that isn't as comforting as it should be. All she can think of are teeth sinking into meat, and the sound of a scream, and splattering—

And she has no idea if Undergrowth made her order the—the—the children to kill someone, or if he goaded her into doing it personally. And she doesn't know which is worse. 

It's night now. Late. After patrol. Her cell phone is an intrusive blue glow in her greenhouse, the only light she dare use in case one of her parents is still awake. For all that they've been weirdly accommodating since then, she doesn't want to push her luck. It's a school night, after all. It's hardly any light at all to go by, really. She's tempted to pull up the flashlight app at least, but—

(hello hello)

(mother's back)

(we missed you mother)

—it's maybe safer to do this in the dark. For all that her throat closes up when she hears a loud rustling sweep through her greenhouse. For all that her feet feel like dead weights as she drags them across the dirt floor until she's stood in the center. In the heart of her domain.

She breathes. 

"I hear you," she whispers.

The rustling grows louder, and louder still. Tables creak under growing and shifting weights. Shadows move closer into the faint light of her cell phone. A hundred or more whispers settle in some weird space between her sinus cavity and her brain, heard like something from the cusp of a dream. Mother, they all say. We love you, we love you, we're here for you.

Her legs give out, but something cool and dry catches her before she can fall. She clings to it, swallowing a shriek. They won't hurt her.

They won't.

Now she just has to make sure they won't hurt anyone else either.

"That's right. I'm your—ha." She buries her face in her hands, feeling somewhere between playing pretend and outright deranged. "Ha ha! Can—this is—can you call me something else? Please? I'm way too young to be anybody's mom, let alone my own personal—shit, I dunno. All of you. Just—call me Sam."

That earns her a whole bass-boosted chorus of Sam! Sam! Sam! until she lets go of the vine-branch-thing to clap her hands over her ears. "Easy! Jeez! Take it down a notch, okay? I really can't—do this—with all of you shouting at me."

Sam! Sam! Sam! gets a lot quieter. Not manageable, not really, since a bunch of plants are chanting her name like she's a rock star, but at least it feels less like she's laid out in a dentist's chair getting worked on without local anesthetic. 

"Okay. Okay. I—" she giggles. This is so stupid. This is so dangerous. "Are you—Undergrowth?"

Shadows chirp no, no, no at her like hulking baby birds. 

"Are you still his, though? If he came back, would you listen to him instead of me?"

No, no, no, they chirp. Something coils up one of her legs, catching on her bootlaces and tickling the back of her knee. 

"No, you're not his?"

Not his, something whispers right in her fucking ear. She recoils, trips over whatever's feeling up her thigh, and gets caught again by the vine-branch-thing. She's pretty sure it's a branch of her orange tree. It smells citrus-y, at least. Splayed ungainly, she tries to get her heart under control. She feels like she's in the middle of a horror movie. It's way too easy to imagine some know-it-all dipshit yelling at her through a mouthful of popcorn. Get out, you dumb bitch! 

Yeah, yeah. She knows. She knows. Messing around with things she doesn't understand is what got Danny zapped in the first place. It's a long chain of events between the accident and tonight, but every step of it's her fault.

"Okay," she says shakily. "Okay. And if he came back...?"

We're yours, her garden croons, humming all at once and all through her in a way that makes it feel like her muscles are coming loose from her bones. We belong to you, our Sam.

She shivers. "L-lucky me."

=

So this is a thing she's got going on now, apparently, and no obvious way to make it stop. At least, not any way that wouldn't require her to tear her greenhouse apart down to the last garlic bulb, which would be extraordinarily expensive, extraordinarily alarming to anyone who knows her, and extraordinarily too much like a whole lot of murder. Plants aren't people, but these plants sure do like to tell her how much they love her.

So. It's a thing. Talking to plants. Plants that are definitely souped up on whatever ambient juice is leftover from Undergrowth terraforming the whole city. Plants that keep growing mouths full of fangs and strangling vines with thorns longer than her thumb despite her practically begging them to just be carrots, please. It's feeling a little too Little Shop of Horrors for comfort. She keeps emphasizing the strict no meat diet she's got them on, glad that her family's never had any interest in coming in here. You know. Just in case. Thing is though, her concern—so far, anyway—seems pretty unwarranted. Her garden seems happy enough on the perfectly healthy diet of perfectly normal plants. Sunshine, air, water, a good layer of compost. 

They just keep thanking her so feverishly for so little. It's—unsettling. A little bit awful. Maybe more than a little bit. Maybe this psychic connection thing goes two ways, and her garden is influencing her into—what? Feeling guilty? For what? They all seem so happy for the slightest bit of her attention. It doesn't seem like it'll occur to them all that they could ever ask her for more.

Maybe it's not healthy that she's thinking of her plants as thinking creatures instead of some kind of echo chamber for whatever Undergrowth did to her. The longer she lets this go on, the more the voices of her garden feel-sound like her own thoughts. And it's been going on for a while. Long enough that Danny and Tucker have noticed the uptick in her behavior, both commenting in their own ways that they're happy she's acting more like her old self again.

Yeah. Right. Nothing supernaturally weird going on with her at all, no sir-ee!

Still, for all that she can't stop her garden from going the plantae equivalent of full werewolf, she has managed to keep them organized. Well. Bit of seesaw on that. The overcrowding got sorted out by some aggressive behavior. Some very aggressive behavior. She's definitely had one nightmare already, reliving the gruesomely wet memory of having to bodily haul the thing that used to be her prized Venus flytrap off of the thing that used to be her kiwi vine. 

Point is, she has half the number of plants in her garden than she did two weeks ago, which—fine. It's not like she was planning on eating any of them anymore. She's not really—eating much, lately. She's been able to pass it off as no big deal around Danny and Tucker (never in a million years did she ever think she'd be grateful for the Box Ghost interrupting lunch so often, but here she is!), and she keeps reassuring her family that she's gotten into the habit of taking more of her meals in her greenhouse. The truth is she's been eating a lot of cereal and tripling her vitamin intake. Cereal hasn't betrayed her yet, but in a town like Amity Park that's no guarantee.

She knows it's a stopgap measure. Someone's going to find her out, or her garden's going to get ghostly enough for Danny to sense it, or someone will be stupid enough to walk in here and she might actually end up with some real life Audrey II bullshit.

"If any of you start singing, I won't be held accountable for my actions," she threatens one evening, brandishing a trowel. The garden makes a bunch of querying noises at her, tangling around her ankles like an alien's limited grasp of the concept of a pet cat. She's given up wearing leggings entirely, having thrown the last ruined pair away after her parents had gone to bed. She'd bought three pairs of jeans—black, of course—last Saturday when she braved the mall with Danny and Tucker. At least artfully torn jeans are fashionable enough that nobody but her mom is going to think anything odd about it.

"Never mind," she sighs, and gives in to the urge to scratch one of her plants along its spiny sepals. It purrs happily, and soon a whole group of waist-high plants that look like something right out of Poison Ivy's own evil lair are crooning at her for scritches. 

=

She ends up sneaking off on her own to PetSmart an hour before it closes, bailing on patrol for the sixth time since Undergrowth. There's definitely some line between crazy plant lady and weird dog mom she's pole vaulting over, but—whatever.

She buys a lot of dog toys. Her garden especially loves the tug-of-war ropes, but the bright green squeaky bone turned out to be an A+ impulse buy too.

=

It takes a while, and a lot of adjusting, and she still hasn't figured out an alternative long-term diet, but overall things settle. She finds a new balance. She basically sleeps well enough, and her grades are fine, and the ghost attacks don't get too left-field. Danny shoulders most of that anyway these days, more comfortable with his powers and the popularity boost saving the city gave Phantom with everybody. Used to be her and Tucker put in the same hours and effort as Danny—if you don't count the superpowers—but lately? They're better for cover stories and clean-up, which is fine with Sam while she sorts all this post-Undergrowth ghost-plant stuff out. Tucker's just happy he finishes out the semester with the same PDA he started it with.

Of course, all good things are temporary. She really ought to have this figured out by now.

It's a ghost attack that unravels it all, naturally. This one's a new face; some kind of unsettling, skitter-y combination hydra-centipede about the length of a limousine. Its six necks accordion though, and it spits acid. Both are nasty surprises Danny wasn't expecting, and he ends up getting tossed through the front pane of a mom-and-pop hardware store. He'll be fine, though she and Tucker both have to tamp down on their standard panicked 'oh shit our best friend would have absolutely just died if he were normal' reaction to go distract the ghost from going after a minivan. 

They circle around it, shouting nonsensical insults that it probably doesn't understand to get its attention, helped by a few firm blasts of some small ecto-guns they'd pilfered a while back. Only one shot actually gets a hit on something that isn't its purple exoskeleton; Tucker whoops loudly when it screeches in pain. Sam uses the precious seconds to circle around to the other side of the minivan to yank open the sliding door and start manhandling a group of elementary-aged kids in blue soccer uniforms out and into whatever shop is closest. The mom squawks affront until Sam hisses at her to hurry her ass up if she doesn't want to go the same way as the hatchback—thankfully empty—that had ended up wrapped around a telephone pole. That gets soccer mom moving, and they're both just clear of the van before she hears Tucker scream her name. 

She moves on an instinct honed by two years of fighting for her life; she shoves soccer mom hard and whirls around in time to see the roof of the minivan as it comes flipping right at her. "No—!" is all she has time for, throwing up her hands as bolts of neon green strike up in her periphery. The minivan crumples with a horrible shriek of metal and hangs, creakingly, not a foot above her head. She blinks in the sudden shadow, heart hammering in her throat. She expects to hear Danny's voice, either a dry quip or an earnest rush of concern, depending on how hard the hydrapede rattled him.

A nonplussed, "What the fuck," from Tucker is what she gets instead. 

She looks around. There's the familiar ghost-green glow, but it's not Danny's burning hands or headlight-bright eyes. Two thorny vines, thick as tree trunks, have punched through the concrete to catch the minivan before it could crush her.

(mother) she hears them yap at her happily.

Well, shit.

=

The fight wraps up without any other cars or business fronts getting destroyed. Danny makes good use of those ice powers, and in a matter of minutes Tucker's got the thing slurped up in one of the three Thermoses they've gotten in the habit of having on hand, just in case.

Then Danny and Tucker make matched crazy eyes at her and the modern art she accidentally made out of soccer mom's claim to fame.

"Not here," she tells them firmly. If soccer mom figures out there's a chance she could pin her totaled minivan on her—and her incredibly wealthy parents—they'll get stuck here all day. Tucker gets it before Danny does and makes a show of shoulder-checking him pointedly as he jogs off. Danny shuts his mouth and winks out of sight, leaving Sam to jog after Tucker. Which she will, just after she tries something first.

She glares at the two vines—standard curb weeds once upon ten minutes, more than likely—and thinks at them very hard. Thank you, much appreciated, stop calling me mother, go away.

She gets some kind of bizarre-o feedback that feels like chewing on gum with the wrapper still on, and also like skinned knees, but in her brain? Ugh. With a reluctance that shouldn't be so obvious from a couple of plants, the two vines sort of... shrink? Melt? Reverse-grow back into two perfectly normal bits of scruffy green in a totally wrecked stretch of sidewalk.

Good enough! Better than she expected, really! 

Soccer mom starts babbling something very loud about her car, which is Sam's cue to run for the hills. She does so, dreading the conversation she's about to have with her best friends, but also... kind of excited for the next ghost attack?

If she has to deal with having creepy psychic monster plant-making powers, she may as well get some mileage out of them. Right?

[let-it-raines]

Hello! Don’t know if you’re accepting prompts but just saw a clip of gerrit and amy cole playing catch- she’s pregnant and still bringing the heat! Thought of emma and killian in the CMIYC verse :) hope the muse inspires you, pretty please and thank you :)

I saw that video @galadriel26! Too cute! If anyone wants to watch it, I’ll link it      | Here | 

And if anyone is interested in reading this on ao3, that’s | Here |

-/-

September 2022

Emma hates him.

She really, really does, and she doesn’t plan on changing her mind about that anytime soon. He doesn’t deserve it, and she’s going to stick to that thought process for the foreseeable future.

Because that’s definitely rational, and she is a beacon for being rational at all times.

Or not.

Definitely not. But at least part of the time.

“Take the train home,” Ruby says as she hands her the largest cup of lemonade Emma has ever seen. She’s going to have to pee approximately eighteen times after she drinks it. “I’ll ride with you so you’re not alone.”

“We don’t take anything close to the same route, and I don’t care about riding alone.”

“I don’t care that we’re not on the same route.” Ruby taps her shoulder into Emma’s as Emma takes a sip of her drink. God, this is delicious. She could probably live off of lemonade right now if she didn’t think about how many calories she consumed with a cup this size. And the peeing. So much peeing. “We could get Graham to come get us. He can give us a police escort.”

“That’s excessive.”

“You look miserable. Excessive might be in order.”

Emma hums and leans back in the stadium seat, propping her feet up on the back of the chair in front of her. She needs to wash her sneakers. They have seen better days, and she loves these too much to do anything but preserve them forever. She definitely should have bought more than one pair when she got these.

Killian would have killed her.

As if he doesn’t have a million shoes of his own.

She’s definitely buying at least two more pairs of these shoes when she gets home. She deserves them.

“I’m not miserable,” Emma promises before taking another sip, “but I’m tired. I have been here since eight this morning, and Killian is out on the field running around in circles.”

“That’s called jogging.”

Emma rolls her eyes and tilts her head to lean it on Ruby’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“I will soon because I’m about to leave for the day. I just wanted to make sure my nephew was going to be okay.”

“Oh, so what about the woman who is wearing extremely elastic shorts to house your nephew? Because if you don’t ask about me, I swear I’m going to pop off on you.”

Ruby chuckles and wraps her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “People ignoring you and only mentioning your stomach today?”

“Oh my gosh, yes. And my boobs. I had actual, real people reference my boobs and how much bigger they are because I work with a bunch of assholes who can only focus on a woman for her boobs.”

“Your boobs are absolutely gigantic, and you’re only seven months.”

Emma’s eyes narrow. If she didn’t want this lemonade so badly, she’d pour it on Ruby for that comment. “If you ever have a kid, I’m going to remind you that you think being seven months pregnant in the summer in New York is an easy thing.”

“I only meant that your boobs are going to get even bigger along with your ankles.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, gently hitting Ruby. “I should have never told you I have to wear compression socks while working.”

“That was a mistake.”

“My ankles are normal size.”

“If you say so.” Ruby nods down toward the field. “It looks like your baby daddy is winding down. You going to be okay if I leave you to him? Or are you going to murder him for making you wait here? I’ll support you in that, but there’s only so much I can legally do to get you out of that situation.”

“Nah, I like him too much to murder him.”

“I’ve heard he’s really good at sex, too.”

“Rubes, you’re ridiculous.” Emma pulls herself away from Ruby, standing from the seats and wiping away the sweat that’s pooled at the back of her thighs before grabbing the hair elastic off her wrist and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “You’re also not lying if I have to be totally honest with you.”

“Ha, I knew it.”

Her eyes rolls, and when Ruby stands, Emma leans over to hug her. She doesn’t actually know what she would do without Ruby and her penchant for asking totally inappropriate questions.

“Go home and let me go try to drag the crazy man off the field, okay?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s trying to win the World Series again to impress you.”

“That would be ridiculous.”

“But it’s definitely true. You might be married to the most romantic man alive.”

“I’m going to tell Graham you said that.”

“Please do. He could step up his game.”

“I’ll slip it into the next conversation, but try as much as you might, there’s not much of a chance of Graham winning the World Series. But I’ll send him a text with a very blunt hint.”

“Perfect.” Ruby places her hands on Emma’s stomach, and Emma has to bite her tongue. She only lets Killian do that because people touching her stomach is freaking weird and should not be a socially accepting just because she has a human growing inside of her. “Baby boy Jones, your mom is going to murder your dad for making her stay here all day, and she’s going to murder me for touching her stomach, so I want you to know that I am the most beautiful woman you’ll ever see.”

“Goodbye, Rubes,” Emma sighs. She takes another sip to keep from laughing. “I’ll let you know if we’re still here in the morning.”

“You might as well wait. You’ll just be super early for work tomorrow.”

“At this rate, we both will be.”

Ruby turns and walks away toward the exit while Emma makes her way down the stands until she’s at the gate that will let her out onto the field. The sun is nearly finished setting, the overhead lights turned on and beaming down onto the field, and the heat from the day is finally melting away so that it’s not excessively sweltering.

She cannot wait for winter. It’ll be cold and comfortable and she won’t be pregnant anymore. She’ll probably be freaking out because she has no idea how to be a mother, but at least her ankles won’t be slightly swollen anymore.

Hopefully.

It’ll all be worth it. Supposedly.

No, definitely.

She’s just miserably hot today and wants to be home on the couch with Netflix on so that she can get up and do this all over again.

They’re going to the ALDS, and she’s so damn excited. They’ve been rebuilding the team for years now, getting back to the top of the game, and this is the first time in a long time that Emma’s felt it in her gut that they’ve got a chance. 2019 feels like decades ago, but it’s only been three years since their lives were insane.

Well, insane in slightly different ways.

At least there are no deadbeat dads working with ex-boyfriends to ruin their lives. She couldn’t go through that again. She needs some kind of calm to be able to get through the next few weeks and keep from getting too stressed.

Pregnancy was obviously a great idea.

“Hey, twenty-nine, they called off practice a few hours ago.”

Killian keeps jogging, but he slows his pace until he’s in a walk and heading straight toward her. He has absolutely soaked through his t-shirt and his shorts, and he is definitely going to smell horrible on the car ride home if he doesn’t shower here.

“I’m getting extra credit, love.”

“You’ve already aced the test. Let’s go.”

Killian pushes his hair off his forehead before reaching back to tug at the back of his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the ground. Emma’s stomach swirls, and she swallows the lump in her throat.

Damn, she is luckier than she has any right to be.

Maybe sitting on the couch and watching Netflix isn’t what she actually wants to do right now.

“You see something you like there, Swan?”

“I feel like you took your shirt off because you know my hormones are crazy and that I’m still a little extra horny…on occasion.”

“I took my shirt off because I’m covered in sweat. Something like what you suggested would simply be a perk.”

Emma laughs and meets Killian halfway when he kisses her. “You are incredibly sweaty.”

“If you’re willing to wait a little longer, I’ll shower here.”

“I’m expecting it.”

“Good.” His lips run across her jaw before he pulls back. “You want to do me a favor and do some pitching practice with me?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I notice you didn’t say that as a question.”

“Because it wasn’t.”

Killian’s lips stretch into a smile, and she recognizes it. He’s about to try to charm her pants off, probably quite literally, but she’s not going to let him. She’s going to ignore him and keep on drinking her lemonade.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll cook dinner if you practice with me.”

“You’re already cooking dinner, so you’re really slacking on the convincing.”

“Damn. But to be honest, I was counting on not wearing a shirt to be all the convincing you need.”

Emma shakes her head and takes one last sip of her lemonade before putting it down on the ground. “You have to rub my feet when we get home, and you better promise that you’re not going to nail me with a ball.”

“So many dirty jokes I could make there.”

His brows waggle, and she reaches over to shove him before walking to the pile of equipment behind home plate. She finds a glove that she doesn’t hate, grabs a ball, and meets Killian on the side of the field where he’s waiting for her. They’ve done this countless times out here, in stadiums across the country, and on the rooftop of their house. Though, that last one has led to a broken window at the brownstone across the street, and that was not a pleasant conversation.

She misses one catch and disaster happens.

“I got another jersey today,” Killian tells her as she gently tosses the ball his way.

“For a newborn or for an older kid?”

“I’m thinking toddler. It was cute. They’d gotten it customized with my name and number.”

He pelts the ball back. Okay, so they’re not going super slow today.

“You get it from a fan?”

“Yep. A group of women.”

Emma closes her eyes and shakes her head as she smiles. That does not surprise her in the slightest.

“We’re going to have enough onesies and jerseys to dress this kid until he’s a teenager because of groups of women who love you.”

“What can I say? My pretty face attracts a lot of women.”

“How pretty would it be if I gave you a black eye?”

“I think I would still be at least in the top two of the most stunning men on the team.”

She hears the thwack of her ball in Killian’s glove. “You are never lacking in confidence, are you?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

All the time, she thinks.

He lacks it all the time, but he hides it until the darkness of night when it’s just the two of them. The demons have been coming out to play lately with the pressure of the season mounting, that possibility of greatness at the tip of his fingers, and with her due date getting closer as they’re all wrapped up in baseball.

The two of them wanted this more than anything, but their own parents screwed them over so badly that Emma gets the demons. She has them, too.

Not when they’re out here, though, and there’s nothing and no one in the world but the two of them.

“Did I tell you Ruth is coming to town next week?”

“Is she staying with us?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, of course, love. I’ll wash the sheets in the guest room and get some groceries delivered. She still on a pasta kick?”

“She definitely is. You should see the texts she ends me. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at that much pasta.”

“I have, but it wasn’t the good kind of pasta.”

“All pasta is good pasta.”

His ball hits her glove a little harder than she was expecting. Damn, Jones. “That, darling, is not true in the slightest. For instance, wheat pasta and then that pasta you burned.”

“That was one time,” Emma groans as she shakes out her hand while adjusting her stance. “I swear I can cook. I haven’t died of starvation yet.”

“It helps when cereal is available.”

Emma throws the ball as hard as she can at Killian, but he doesn’t even flinch when he catches it. She can throw a fantastic ball, too, so he definitely should have flinched.

Sweat is now dripping down her back, the humidity in the air seeping into her clothes and her skin, and maybe she should take her shirt off as well so she doesn’t get covered. Killian might have had the right idea there.

She is not taking her shirt off in the middle of Yankee Stadium no matter how badly she wants to. That would somehow not go well for her and someone would see, and she’d have even more shit to put up with. Emma’s definitely punching the next person to tell her that she looks like she’s going to pop any minute now.

She’s not.

But why the hell do people think that’s okay to say to a pregnant woman? She swears some people forget that pregnant women are still people all on their own.

“Twenty-nine, I love you, but if you keep making fun of me while killing my arm, you’re going to have to sleep on the couch. And the bad one, not the one in the living room.”

“Does your arm really hurt?”

“I may be a little sore from working out this morning. I’m mostly miserably hot even though I thought it was getting cooler out here. Can we move somewhere that never gets this hot?”

Killian nods and starts walking toward her. He takes his glove off and once he reaches her, he pushes the hair that’s curled on her face back up into her ponytail. “We can go someplace with air-conditioning right now. I feel like that’s an okay compromise.”

“After you shower, right?”

“What? I don’t smell great right now?”

“I already told you that you smelled awful.”

Killian hums as the corners of his lips turn up, and she doesn’t have enough time to run before he’s wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in until she’s covered in sweat and the awful smell of someone who desperately needs to shower. It’s a million times worse than when he leaves his sweaty clothes in the hamper instead of putting them in the washing machine.

“Stop,” Emma groans as she pushes him away. “Killian, stop. I’m going to smell awful.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

“Oh my gosh,” she laughs as she stops trying to pull back. She’s already screwed. This is disgusting. “You’re a child.”

He shrugs and smiles so widely that his eyes crinkle. “I’m in my thirties, and I play baseball for a living. I’ve never had a reason not to be.”

“Well, that’s not true.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” Killian releases her from his embrace before stepping away. “C’mon, Swan. There’s no one in the clubhouse. We can go shower. I’ve got clothes for you.”

“If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was say.”

“I have been trying for that this entire time.”

Emma shakes her head and chuckles. “You’ve got an early game tomorrow, and you actually have to play. Let’s go shower and then go home. I’m exhausted, and I was promised a foot rub.”

-/-

“What the hell?”

Emma shifts in bed and twists her neck to look at Killian. “What?”

The mattress dips and suddenly Emma feels Killian’s pressing into her back as his arm loops over her stomach. “Look at this.”

She looks down at his phone and at the video that’s playing. It’s the two of them from last night when they were throwing the ball back and forth.

What the hell?

“How did someone get this?”

“I don’t know. There must have been someone still in the stands that saw us and then they sent it in to SportsCenter.”

“Usually I’d be bothered by something like this, but I look like a hell of a lot better pitcher than you here. Look at that accuracy. And according to the caption, I’m a catch.”

“It also says it’s unfair to me because we’re playing two on one.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs as she leans back into Killian’s embrace. “Have you already looked at the comments?”

“Against my better judgment, I did. There were quite a few about my lack of a shirt and how they could understand how you got pregnant.”

“I feel like a hell of a lot of people have no idea how sex works then.”

Killian snickers into the back of her neck and drops his hand to her stomach. “You do have great accuracy, love.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Rob?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely, Rob. He’s undoubtedly the best pitcher on the team.”

“I guess you’ll have to keep practicing with me until I get that title.”

“We’re going to be practicing for a long damn time then.”

Killian pulls her back against him and buries his nose in her neck. His scruff is prickly against her skin, but the burn of it is pleasant as his lips run across the cords in her neck before settling just below her ear.

“Are you and the kid going to gang up on me or are we going to let him like me for a little while?”

“I think we’ll let him like you until he’s five, and then he’s my partner in crime.”

“That is the most reasonable plan you’ve ever had.”

She huffs and places her hand over Killian’s on her stomach. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, babe. Though, I’m definitely going to be the one to teach Jace how to throw a ball. You suck.”

“Aren’t you the one who broke the Taylor’s window?”

“I said teach him how to throw. That was a catching problem on my part. We’ll have to let Scarlet teach him all about that.”

“The thought of Scarlet teaching my kid anything is terrifying.”

“Please. You trust Will with your life.”

Killian nods into her neck again and places a soft kiss there. “I trust him with you, yeah. Do you want some breakfast? We need to get ready for work soon.”

“Do we still have that fruit bowl?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll have that. Just give me five more minutes and then we can get up and get ready.”

“Five more minutes tends to mean about an hour.”

“No,” Emma sighs. “Five minutes. I mean it.”

“Fine, Swan, we can have five more minutes.”

-/-

-/-

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