#and that posts are supposed to ask for answers not more questions

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 3

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: ~2.4k

cw: angst but not too bad this time, flirty/playful Zayne, after that he freaks out though and doesn’t speak much, reader questions her place and existence, talks of destiny, low self esteem honestly, idk if i like this part; not proofread

Synopsis: You’re trying to find your footing, but after a week in this new world, you’re still realizing just how different it is. Luckily (or maybe not so luckily?), you become distracted as Em invites her dear doctor friend over.

author’s note: I’m loving this series, it’s giving me so much inspiration! But I’m updating this way faster than I initially intended so I’m not really proofreading so I’m sorry if its not great :( ANYWAY I’m kind of figuring out where I want to go with it from here, but right now I’m just focusing on introducing each Love Interest. Writing playful Zayne is so fun, i wanna squish him :(

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail (I hope I got everyone!)

Series Masterlist

“What are you reading?” Em’s voice broke through your focus.

You glanced up at her through your lashes from your place cuddled up on the couch. You were sat near the window to take advantage of the sunlight, but now you could barely see Em’s face through the glare. You shifted slightly, the blanket wrapped around you nearly falling.

“Frankenstein,” you answered shortly, looking back to your book. You didn’t mean to come off as rude, but Em was very talkative all of the time and you weren’t close enough to maintain that. You needed some time to recharge, and Em was interrupting it.

Her brows drew together and she leaned closer to you, staring at the book cover. “What’s that?”

You looked back up at her incredulously, keeping your place with your hand. “You’ve… never heard of Frankenstein?”

Em shook her head with a frown. “Is that weird?” She asked.

“Frankenstein? By Mary Shelley? You know, the really influential and famous horror and science fiction book?” When met with another shake of the head, you let out a laugh in disbelief. “I mean, I get not knowing the plot, but not knowing the whole book…?”

Another laugh from you, and Em was pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Hold on, let me search it up…” A few moments pass filled with only the tapping of Em’s nails against the screen. Her frown only deepened as she continued to scroll. “There’s nothing here about Frankenstein or any Mary Shelley.” She looked back up at you curiously. “Where exactly did you get that book?”

You stood up, your blanket falling to the floor, Frankenstein forgotten on the arm of the couch. You yanked Em’s phone from her hand, scrolling through it with wide eyes. “That can’t be true,” you muttered.

Em was right, though. There was no sign of Frankenstein in this world. All that showed up was ‘Did you mean:’ posts and similar names, but no direct matches.

How could that be?

What else was different in this world?

If there was no Frankenstein, then what else that you knew so familiarly was forgotten?

You knew there would be some differences in the world of Love and Deepspace, but you’d thought you could adapt. Now, though, it felt like you were floundering. There were more differences than similarities, and you had no idea how to deal with it.

You had no idea who you were supposed to be.

“Are you alright?” Em’s hand come on your shoulder. “You look really pale.”

You took a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just feel a little light-headed, but it’s nothing.”

“Have you eaten today?” She chastised, already knowing the answer.

“No,” you admitted sheepishly.

Em sighed, already moving into the kitchen. “Sometimes I wonder how you lived before we moved in together. What do you do when I’m gone on missions? Do you just starve until I get back?” She moved around the kitchen efficiently, pulling foods and plates out of cabinets that you didn’t even know existed.

You really needed to learn your way around this apartment.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” you laughed.

“Oh, really?” Em raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

You went quiet at that. How were you supposed to respond? She was right, of course. Em was perceptible when it mattered. You had just never had someone to take notice of it and do something before.

How are you supposed to act when you’re being taken care of?

When someone you’ve only known for a week is putting in more effort than friends you’d known for a year.

You took the plate she handed you, muttering a quiet thanks that Em waved off.

Em carefully watched you chew, not interrupting you until you were about halfway through your plate.

“Would you mind if one of my friends came over?” She asked suddenly, eyes trained on your face for a reaction.

You stopped chewing, staring up at her. After quickly swallowing, you sighed. “Is it Tara? Because as much as I love her I don’t think I can—”

“No, it’s not Tara,” Em chuckled. “I wouldn’t ask her over today, I know you’re tired and she can be a lot. This friend of mine, though…” She looked at you hopefully. “He’s really quiet. Kind of similar to you, actually. He can be a little intimidating when you first meet him, but he’s really sweet!” Em stared at you expectantly.

“I’m not completely opposed,” you began, catching sight of Em’s excited smile. “But I’m not sold on the idea either!” You said quickly. “What friend is this?”

Em’s smile didn’t dim. “It’s my friend Zayne.”

A methodical knock on the door had Em springing from her seat next to you and smoothing down her shirt. You put your bookmark in Frankenstein, setting it on the table next to you. You nervously shifted on the couch, not wanting to greet Zayne at the door.

After what happened with Xavier, who knows what could happen with Zayne?

You weren’t really sure what was happening now that you were here, and you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to find out. Were you a problem? Disrupting the plot, distracting the budding romances, keeping Em away from her destiny?

What even was her destiny?

What was your destiny?

If you really were a part of this plot, a part of this world, and someone so close to Em, why hadn’t you been mentioned?

Practiced footsteps brought your gaze up, immediately finding a familiar pair of green eyes. You stood, leaving your blanket discarded on the couch as you offered your outstretched hand.

Zayne took it, a ghost of a smile spreading on his lips as he shook it. “So formal,” he chuckled.

“It’s out first time meeting,” you shrugged. “Isn’t this what you do when you meet new people?”

“I suppose, but I’ve shaken enough hands at the hospital. I’d like to greet you as a friend would.” He gave you a light smile. “How exactly would you do that? I’m afraid I haven’t had much experience in friendship,” he admitted.

As a friend? The stoic Doctor Zayne joking around and wanting to be your friend?

What was going on?

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “Whenever I see my friends, I usually just hug them.” You watched as the very tips of Zayne’s ears turned a fiery pink.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t suppose we’re close enough for that yet.”

“I’m so glad you you guys are getting along!” Em said, oblivious to the slight tension between you and the doctor. “I was worried since you both are kind of awkward.” She laughed brightly.

“Yes, well, I wanted to…” Zayne hesitated as he looked back to you. “I wanted to make a good impression on your friends. I would hate to be disliked by someone close to you.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to dislike you,” you chuckled. Zayne stared at you with wide eyes, causing heat to rise to your own cheeks. “I only mean because you’re so polite and funny,” you explained hastily.

Zayne looked away, a grin growing on his face. “There aren’t many who would consider me funny. Even Em has said I’m too serious.”

“It’s because you are!” She said accusatorially before stepping over to your side as if that would make you easy to convince. “He’s been like this ever since we were kids! Other kids were out, running in the streets and playing tag, and he was inside huddled up with a book!”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it!” You said, walking over to Zayne. You leaned in close, whispering, “I was that kid, too. It’s not a bad thing to go against the status quo sometimes.”

He gave you a smile filled with relief. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone say that to me, or agree with my childhood decisions.”

You shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s an issue. Everyone wants you to express yourself, but then they get mad if you don’t do it the way they want.” You looked at him, searching his eyes. “At the end of the day, I think you just have to accept that you’re not going to please everyone. And it’s not your job to, either. Everyone has their own opinions and decisions to make, and I think you just need to do what makes you happy, instead of what makes other people happy.”

Zayne was silent for a moment. “Very wise words,” he murmured. “I suppose it is easy to neglect one’s own happiness in the pursuit of satisfying another’s.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, a playful smile growing on your face. “It’s alright to be a people pleaser, Doctor Zayne. Just don’t forget yourself.”

Em cleared her throat, earning her attention from you and Zayne. “Listen, this is all very sweet, but it’s also boring.” She made a face, scrunching her nose. “You guys can have your little therapy session later, but right now, I wanna do something. Can we play a game?” Em bounced lightly on her feet.

Zayne chuckled. “This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me a bore. What would you like to play?” Em put her hand on her chin, pretending to think on the question. “Not Kitty Cards, I hope.”

“No!” Em said quickly. When you snickered, a blush painted her cheeks. “I just mean, we’ve been playing so much lately. I’m sure you don’t want to play again.”

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you certain it’s not because of your recent losing streak?”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “Let’s not be too mean. She is our friend, after all.”

He hummed, trying to hide his grin. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Why don’t we play that new game you just got?” you offered, looking to Em. “The one with the snowmen?”

Em made a squeak of excitement before scrambling over to her game console.

Zayne stared at you, his posture suddenly stiffening before it seemed like he reminded himself to relax. “Have we… met before?” He asked you.

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t.” You cocked your head. “Why?”

He shook his head softly. “It’s nothing.” When your gaze persisted, he sighed. “You just seem familiar somehow. Like I’ve known you somewhere.” The words caught in his throat, and his next sentence came out barely as a whisper. “Like I’ve loved you before.”

You gaped at him, unsure if you had even heard him correctly, before Em walked over and swept you both into the living room to all play her new game together. Em gripped your arm as she situated you right next to her, exclaiming something about how you two needed to stick together and beat Zayne.

You watched the hesitation on Zayne’s face as he saw the places left to sit. He considered simply sitting on the floor, but he ended up taking the seat next to you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Not many words were spoken after that. Zayne’s posture returned to that of the Doctor, prim and proper. Em carried most of the conversation, and the few answers Zayne gave were short and clipped.

You glanced at Zayne during one of the loading screens, only for him to avoid your gaze.

Did he figure out you didn’t belong here?

It was dark by the time Zayne left, offering you a curt nod as he said goodbye. You and Em straightened up the apartment in silence, feeling the fatigue from the week and aching for sleep.

Once the room was presentable, Em led you to sit on the couch, with her sitting opposite you on the small coffee table. She looked away from you, rubbing her thighs with her palms.

She did that because you did that.

There was nothing about the MC rubbing her thighs when she was nervous before, but you’d been doing it for years.

What other traits or habits of yours were now Em’s?

“Can you tell me something?” She asked, looking up at you with downturned lips. Already expecting this, you nodded. She took a deep breath. “Did something happen between you and Zayne? Because he was really relaxed when he first came over, but then he started acting like how he acts in public and I just wanted to know if you maybe said something?” Em winced as she finished.

“I don’t think I said anything weird,” you shrugged. Now was not the time to tell her what he’d said, you thought. Not that there would ever be a good time, but maybe you wouldn’t have to tell her. Maybe the story would progress as it was supposed to. They would all love her, she would take her pick, and leave the others heartbroken.

And you would simply fade into the background.

Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?

Just be a plot device here and there, not have a Love Interest think he’s loved you before.

How did he expect you to react, anyway?

“That’s weird.” A pout grew on her face. “I wonder what freaked him out.”

Probably the fact that he acknowledged connection with someone other than you, you thought.

He wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to.

He wasn’t supposed to.

You repeated the mantra in your head, trying to make yourself believe it.

This girl in front of you is the one he’s defied gods for, so who are you to get in between that?

She was the one that the story was about, not you. You weren’t even supposed to be here.

Would you be able to get back home?

Did you want to?

Maybe you could live here. Stay here. Carve out a life here.

Maybe you could find your own happy ending.

You shook your head.

You are not the priority protagonist.

You are an aid, a secondary character, a plot device. Someone to fade away.

What would happen if you went against that?

All you needed to do was help Em find her happy ending, and pray it doesn’t lead to your own downfall.

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[er1nne]

hi! i’m the anon who requested a new part for “the interview with drew goes viral”. you actually posted it on my birthday, so i’m sending you a huge thanks, really.

i absolutely loved it and i also wouldn’t mind if you wanted to turn this into a series too hahah.

the two of them 🥺🥺🥺 i love that drew is going to the coffee shop after her, would love to see how their relationship grows! i’m in love with them and with the you you write. thanks again!!!

hope you’re doing well, have a nice weekend xxx

another run in with drew ♡

part one, part two, part three

author's note: love how this had become a series lol, also series masterlist coming soon. give me ideas on what you want to see, your wishes are my command

(do not copy or plagiarize, original work)

You haven’t seen Drew since the coffee shop. No texts. No calls. No accidental likes on Instagram stories. Just that strange little moment—quiet, simple, unexpected—followed by nothing but silence. A silence you didn’t have time to question, at least not out loud.

Work swept you under fast. One interview turned into five, turned into twelve. There were red eyes and red carpets, layovers that bled into morning glam, emails marked urgent that weren’t, and endless voice notes from your assistant reminding you to drink water or, God forbid, actually sit down and eat. You’ve been floating from event to event, mic in hand, pretending the whirlwind is normal.

And maybe it is. Maybe this is just what success feels like when it comes all at once.

But somewhere in the back of your mind—between camera flashes and client lists—you still think about that coffee. The way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the lid. The way he looked at you like you were someone worth pausing for. Not performing for. Just… seeing.

You never followed up. Neither did he. So maybe that’s where it ends.

Until now.

You’re back on the red carpet, badge clipped, mic wired, heels biting into the carpet just enough to remind you to stand tall. Another night. Another venue. Another lineup of stars and stylists and agents crowding every inch of the step-and-repeat. Ironically enough, for a Drew Starkey interview. Even when you can't make time to see him personally the universe has a funny way of putting you two together. Meant to be? who knows.

You try not to think too hard about it—don’t give it weight. You’re here to work. You’re here to do your job. Not to chase the what-ifs of a man who left your texts untyped and your mind way too occupied on nights when you should’ve been sleeping.

Still, your fingers tighten around the mic just slightly as you read down the list of arrivals. Tom Blyth is slotted ahead of Drew. You know Tom. He’s warm, low-maintenance, the kind of actor who gives thoughtful answers and makes your job easy. You ground yourself in that—small wins. Familiar rhythms.

Your team gives you the signal, and you step forward into the chaos of flashbulbs and pre-show nerves. The cameras sweep toward you and Tom as he arrives, his publicist giving you a nod. You settle into the interview, asking your usual questions—questions you could probably recite in your sleep by now. He smiles, laughs, says something about the director’s process. You nod, respond, push the conversation where it needs to go. It’s smooth. Effortless. Just how it’s supposed to be.

Your heels click into place on the press line, the carpet beneath you plush but just unstable enough to remind you you’re balancing on borrowed time—and four inches of designer expectation. The noise is a hum—paparazzi flashes, producers shouting cues, the murmur of industry air kisses and small talk no one really means.

Then you see him.

Tom Blyth moves through the crowd like it’s parting for him on instinct. All charm and movie-star ease, dressed in something sharp and tailored, the kind of suit that looks effortless but costs more than your entire monthly invoice report. The lapels lie just right, the fabric catching the camera flashes like it knows it’s being watched. He carries himself like someone who’s used to being looked at—and knows exactly what to do with that attention.

When he stops in front of you, the grin he offers is the kind you feel—not just see. It’s practiced, yes, but not fake. It lands with just enough weight to leave a mark.

You hold your mic steady and smile back, but the energy shifts the second he opens his mouth.

“Well, well,” he says as he stops in front of you, eyeing your mic, then your face, “didn’t expect to see the best-dressed person here holding the microphone. Shouldn’t you be on this side with the rest of us?”

You smile, professional but just shy of bashful. “Careful, Tom. Keep sweet-talking me like that and I might start charging for compliments.”

“Go ahead,” he says, laughing. “As long as you let me expense it under ‘networking.’”

He winks, and you try not to let your shoulders tense under the cameras. “Let’s talk about the film, yeah? You’ve worked with some heavy hitters this year. What drew you to this script?”

He leans in slightly, enough for you to catch a trace of his cologne—something warm, amber, expensive. “Besides the fact that it gave me a reason to show up and see you again?” He pauses, grin widening. “I liked how human it felt. Honest. Flawed. I’ve been chasing those kinds of roles lately. But this one hit different.”

You nod, genuinely engaged, your mic lifting instinctively. “Do you think audiences are ready to see you in something that vulnerable? Or do you still like being everyone’s golden boy?”

“Depends,” he says. “Would you still like me if I wasn’t?”

Before you can even come up with a reply—witty or otherwise—a voice cuts through the noise, low and unmistakably familiar.

“Now he’s trying to steal my favorite interviewer.”

You turn.

Drew stands just behind Tom, casual but calculated, hands in his pockets, eyes trained on you like he’s trying to read the punchline before you’ve even delivered it.

Tom steps back half an inch, amusement flashing across his face. “Well, didn’t know I was stepping on any toes.”

“Not toes. Just territory.” Drew’s tone is light, but the message is there, coded in the way his eyes flick to you, then back to Tom like a reflex.

Tom glances between the two of you, catching it. “Didn’t mean to step on anything,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “Or anyone.”

You force a smile—tight, professional—and tilt the mic toward Drew without looking directly at him. “We’re all friends here. Right?”

“Sure we are,” Drew murmurs, eyes still on you. He doesn’t blink when you finally meet his gaze. He just lifts one brow slightly, like he knows something you don’t want to admit out loud.

Tom excuses himself down the line, sensing the shift, and you don’t blame him. The moment he walks away, the noise around you fades into a blur. Your crew’s still watching. Cameras still pointed. But all you feel is him.

Then he leans in closer—like he’s adjusting something on his suit, like he’s letting you fix his mic—but his mouth is right by your ear.

“Long week?” he asks, voice low.

Your breath catches before you can stop it. You don’t turn to face him, just nod slightly, lips pressed together. “Busy.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Too busy for coffee, huh? Maybe dinner works better instead.”

You slightly hold your mouth agape with a surprised smile decorates your face. You swallow hard. He’s not wrong.

“Sure, it that will make it up to you.”

"How about tonight? If you’re not busy after the premiere.”

You pause. Then add— Then: “There's not a such thing as 'too busy'. It’s a date, then.”

The words fall out softer than you expect, almost natural, and the moment they land, both of you flinch—just a little.

“Promise.”

That gets him.

He doesn’t smile—but something in his expression shifts. Softens. You feel the shift in his body before you see it—his shoulders ease, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s forcing stillness. He doesn’t smile, not exactly, but something in his face unlocks. Like your words knocked the wind out of him for half a second.

And then—

You turn your head. Just slightly. Just enough for your mouth to hover where his had been.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, breath warm against his skin. “Are you the jealous type?”

He goes still. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink. Just still.

One beat. Two.

And suddenly it’s like everyone around you vanishes. The press. The handlers. Even the cameras seem quieter. Because anyone watching now sees it—the way his hand flexes at his side. The way your smile lifts just barely, slow and knowing. The air between you buzzes, hot and thick and impossible to ignore.

Then you smile for the camera—tight, sweet, unreadable. “We’re rolling, Starkey. You ready?”

He pulls back, expression unreadable. “Always.”

You lift the mic, voice smooth. “Drew Starkey, star of tonight’s premiere, joining us now…”

And just like that, you fall back into the rhythm. But your pulse is nowhere near calm. And neither is he.

And just like that, you’re back on script—two professionals, poised and polished.

But your pulse is nowhere near calm.

And his? His jaw ticks once. His eyes don’t leave you.

But this is anything but far from over.

[ouatsnark]

When the Swanfire fans join in:

I didn't answer the question because I did want to connect this to my original post. I've actually kept a running tally of anti-captainswan stans degrading Emma like this. And the more they reach, the dumber they look!

"Emma looks so happy when she was with Neal! She looks miserable with Killian!" - signed a brainless Swanfire fan

As mentioned in the ask... Emma wasn't even with Neal in S2. Unless they mean the flashbacks. But without seeing the OG post and what picture they're using, I would have to guess. The haters tend to use the promo shots which is just laughable.

But sure lets post some pictures of Emma "with" Neal in S2 and S3 just for fun!

OK so these are all of the moments I just pulled out of the top of my head. Should I edit this post with some more scenes? Sound off in the comments (and let me know which scene!)

So the point being is that I can find plenty of moments where Emma was hurting in Neal's presence BECAUSE OF NEAL.

There isn't a picture past S2 of Emma Swan being hurt by Killian Jones (Dark Hook doesn't count = consumed by darkness).

And as requested... here is a picture of Emma being arrested because of Neal and subsequently being abandoned alone and in prison because of him.

This is 20 times worse than anything Killian and Emma did to each other while they were on the opposite sides of good and evil BECAUSE Emma and Neal were together and she trusted him. He was suppose to be there for her and he wasn't.

Killian Jones made Emma Swan Happier

For every 1 happy moment you can pull from a flashback of when Emma Swan (mistakenly) thought that Neal Cassidy hung the moon... I can find 20 more moments where Killian Jones made Emma Swan even happier.

What happened to Emma Swan? DEBUNKED

Ever so often the Swan Queen fandom gets it in their heads to try & tear down Emma Swan's look and character development simply because she married a man… a man who treated Emma far better than their Queen. Their arguments prove that they lack the will to understand the writing as they blatantly twist canon to fit their narrative.

"What happened to season one Emma Swan? She went from happy to miserable because of Killian Jones" - Regina Apologists

This is a prime example of how Regina Apologists are so dishonest. The two pictures on the left are promotional shots from the show. The two pictures on the right are moments from Season 6 when Emma is in distress. The first image she is watching her parents sacrifice themselves for the good of Storybrooke (while Regina, who is at fault, does nothing). The second one is when Emma was having visions of her own death. These instances have NOTHING to do with Killian Jones! However, I can find plenty of times when Emma was in distress due to Regina Mills!

I have found so many examples of them pulling this crap. I would be here all day screen capping their dishonesty.

The truth: Emma Swan wasn't happy in Season 1 & that Emma wasn't the real Emma

Yes, you heard me. Season 1 Emma wasn’t the real Emma. The real Emma was hiding behind an armor of red leather jackets, fake eye-lashes and a chip on her shoulder to keep everyone at arms length. She put on a tough bravado as an armor to protect herself from the world because she'd been hurt too many times.

But as a time passed, Emma needed less and less armor. She became more trusting and more open to love, family and happiness. When she shed that armor she let herself be more vulnerable. She became more caring toward others. Which is about the bravest thing you can do.

The more and more we saw Emma opening up to love the less armor she used. And the less armor she used, the more we hear from the Anti-CaptainSwan crowd that...

How do you go from THIS to this??? - Regina Apologist

GASP! A woman didn’t put on a bunch of make up & doll herself up for you SO SHE MUST BE MISERABLE & has no agency because she’s at the mercy of everyone!!!

Imagine degrading a woman for not wearing make up or curling their hair? You have got to be kidding me.

Also, if you really believe this, then you should be looking more favorably on Killian Jones. He obviously loved Emma for who she was and not how much make up she is wearing unlike like you fools.

Never mind that once again they grab a screen cap of when Emma is going through a tough time...and why is she going through a tough time? BECAUSE OF REGINA MILLS! Yeah, Regina's other half is trying to hurt her parents and possibly kill everyone all because Regina can't stop wanting to be evil!

The Truth: Killian Jones made Emma Swan happy

It's literally in her wedding vows. And you can see it on her face whenever she looks at him. Killian Jones helped her trust in love and not be afraid of the future.

The truth: Regina is the cause of 99% of Emma's problems

I've seen Regina stans try to say that Emma looked miserable during her vows but they fail to actually listen to what she is saying. She is not only fighting tears but when she looks away, apparently sad, she is remembering her life before Henry. She is thinking about when Henry came to get her which wasn't a happy time at all really. She was thinking about what Regina did to her and her family.

But she looks at Killian with all the happiness in her heart.

"Emma went from a badass in Season 1 to a Stepford Wife" - Regina Apologist

I love how they continue to use promo shots and bts pictures.

It’s like the Anti-CaptainSwan crowd believes that there is only one way to be a strong woman: having a chip on your shoulder, being sarcastic to everyone, never needing anyone (especially a male) and being single (unless its w|w). They just don’t like the fact that Emma not only chose her own path but fights for everyone and not just their precious queen.

I have actually heard Rumple stans call Emma a Stepford wife as well because she chose Hook over Rumple's cowardly son Neal. Which is just hysterical since Belle is literally a Stepford wife. She ignores all of his abuse, his bad deeds and his manipulation and stays with him.

The Truth: Emma Swan was still a badass after getting together with Killian Jones:

S4 taking down dragon Lily

S4 telling grumpy to back off before she turns him into stumpy (hey you thought sarcasm was badass? there you go!)

S4 taking on the darkness to save the town

S4 defeating Cruella to save Henry

S5 going up against Nimue

S5 confronting Rumple about him being the Dark One again

S5 doing what she had to do and knowing she had to destroy Dark Hook

S5 telling Regina to fix her own damn problems for once cause Emma was done doing it for her

S6 going up against Wish Hook.

S6 going up against the Serum Queen

S6 sacrificing herself for Gideon and destroying the dark fairy

Furthermore, if Emma was that dependent on Killian Jones then she would not have left the Underworld without him. But she did leave him for the sake of Henry and others who needed her.

DEBUNKING MYTHS

Emma is complex but SQers fail to accept Emma’s evolution because it didn’t involve her becoming Regina’s doormat in every aspect of her life.

I know it's hard for Regina Mills stans to spot character growth, since their queen didn't have one, but Emma Swan and Killian Jones are where the most character growth happened. They evolved into much better people as the series came to a close.

Here are some things I've seen when talking about Emma's evolution or about her being worse off with Killian Jones than she would have been with Regina or Neal. And lets be real here, Emma was worse off with Regina as a friend. That is just a fact.

THEY NEVER ACKNOWLEDGE REGINA'S TRUE ROLE

I will see them talk circles around Regina's role in Emma's life to avoid putting blame where it should be and that is directly on Regina Mills. They will say things like "The Charmings abandoned Emma" but The Charmings didn’t just abandon Emma. THEY SAVED HER LIFE with the hope that Emma would return to save the entire kingdom FROM REGINA. Regina was going to murder infant Emma.

They will also go on about how Killian and Emma were enemies at first. Killian Jones was never as much of an enemy to Emma like Regina Mills was. Regina emotionally and physically hurt Emma and destroyed her life.

MYTH: EMMA WAS ONLY AT HER BEST IN SEASON ONE OR WITH REGINA

As mentioned above, they prefer closed off and alone Emma. However, Emma was at her best when she let down her walls & allowed herself to love. A heart full of love is beautiful. But love to Regina apologists only looks like Emma bowing to Regina. Well. Emma was closed off, negative, sarcastic & willing to overlook all of Regina’s shit for the sake of Henry. Allowing someone to put you down the way Emma allows Regina is NOT someone at their best.

Emma at her best understands sacrifices for the greater good, forgiveness, mercy & the strength of love. That was Emma during all 7 seasons. Actually, Emma showed Regina way too much mercy (Rumple too, in fairness).

MYTH: EMMA WAS FORCED TO CHOOSE HOOK

Anyone who says that Emma was forced to be with Hook because Killian & her parents "pressured her" or "made her" is hating Emma Swan. This is a bunch of fanon nonsense & not canon. No one was forcing Emma. You can’t point to a single scene or dialog that suggests that. Quite the opposite in fact.

You don’t fight for something as hard as Emma fought for her happy ending if it’s not what you want. Remember that Snow & David were against saving Hook in Camelot. They were more concerned about Emma. Hell, Killian Jones was more concerned about Emma's future than living! He wanted her to choose her life over his! It was Emma’s idea to go get Hook in the Underworld & everyone was against it at first (cause who just walks into the Underworld??). If Emma's parents were pushing her towards anyone it was Neal. So, no, no one was forcing Emma to be with Hook. When Charming gives his blessing to Hook he says that the final decision is up to Emma.

If you truly believe that Emma was forced to be with Hook then you don't understand Emma Swan. Emma didn't do anything that Emma didn't want to do. Remember when Emma was dead set on running back to New York in season 3? No one was going to change her mind. She had to find out on her own that life with Henry and her parents in Storybook was indeed home. Emma was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

MYTH: GETTING MARRIED AND HAVING CHILDREN WAS NOT SEASON ONE EMMA'S HAPPY ENDING

Says who!? When did Emma say this? Emma didn’t want a family? GTFOH with that BS. More fanon that isn’t backed up by canon. She THOUGHT she wanted that life with Neal (re-watch Tallahassee). But after his betrayal she packed that side of her away for fear of being hurt again. You’re mistaking her protective armor for who she really is.

And furthermore proving that you don't know what character growth looks like. People change so characters should as well. Well written characters evolve.

MYTH: EMMA DIDN'T PUT HERSELF FIRST ANYMORE BECAUSE OF HOOK & WAS A SHELL OF HER FORMER SELF

Putting those you love first is a sign of unconditional love. I know that’s hard to understand since your queen is a self-centered bitch who never put anyone first… but Emma is different. And just because she wanted to be with her family doesn’t mean she wasn’t putting what she wanted first.

Emma being a shell of herself is a personal opinion. Emma evolved. She had many more layers by the time S6 rolled around. As I said above, her personality in S1-2 was a part of her armor as much as that jacket was. And to say she still wasn’t kicking ass in S6 is a lie. She sacrificed her life so a child would get his life back. Being a hero & putting others first is a strength of character. It’s honorable. Again, I know that’s hard seeing that Regina was 100% focused on her own happy ending but Emma was different. She is a character worth emulating because of her goodness, love and willingness to fight for others.

MYTH: THE CHARMINGS' & HOOK'S LOVE WAS CONDITIONED ON HER BEING THE SAVIOR AND BEING WITH HOOK

You just don’t like that she wanted Hook & not Regina. It’s also complete fanon that Emma’s acceptance depended on her being the savior & loving a man. The Charmings were too cautious about her relationship with Hook to be forcing that on her. They wanted her to be happy & when they saw she was, they accepted him. Also Hook’s love wasn’t dependent on her being the savior. Remember the scissors? Hook kept those suckers because her life meant more to him than her title.

[scenequeen05]

Nerd gojo x loser choso x fem reader

Synopsis:You had gotten everything you've wanted; your dream college, a boyfriend etc etc. However, after getting into many arguments with your boyfriend, you find out he's cheated. So what do you do? Smash the hot tutor and your awkward project partner duh🙄.

A/n: This will be a 3-part series, so bear with me guys

Chapter 1| chapter 2| chapter 3

Warnings: some plot but then smoosh. (cheating, threesome, PIV, oral m and f receiving, switch choso, dom satoru, switch reader, cunnilingus, voyeurism)

After your meeting with choso, you found yourself shutting both gojo and choso. Maybe it was post nut clarity or something, but you felt guilty. You didn't want gojo to think you were leading him on (you were technically), and you didn't want to give choso false hope.

You felt awful, to say the least. But it wasn't anything compared to how gojo was feeling. He spent the last few days confused and upset. You had stopped answering his calls and texts, and whenever he stopped by your dorm, you had gone out to do whatever.

And the worst part was your social media... well, your friends. She had posted pictures of you and a group of friends hanging at a club. And a few of them were you and a couple of guys taking shots.

And that wasn't even the part that angered him the most. It was the hand he had seen on your lower back in one photo. After a full 2 weeks had gone by of not even seeing you in class, he stopped by your room again and saw a note sticking out from under your door.

It was from someone named choso???

He was beyond pissed especially when he read the letter, and it mentioned this choso guy wanting to see you again. He threw the paper away and stomped to his own dorm room to come up with a plan of payback.

You, on the other hand, were stressing out. From school and the 2 boys that were pining after you. And you started to worry even more when the messages and calls stopped. But you tried to remember your own goals. School was what was the most important right now.

You had to find a way to end this madness and apologize to both gojo and choso. Though the thought made your insides twist and turn. After a while of thinking about what to do, you got a text from a friend inviting you to a party this Saturday. Of course, you said yes cause why not. It could be a good way to destress.

Or so you thought.

Choso was one straw away from pouncing on you as soon as he walked into class. Did you get his note? Were you having second thoughts about what happened? Did you think he was a pervert now??? (He is) all these questions shuffled through his mind while he tried to figure out why you stopped talking to him.

He even finished yalls project all by himself. Did he do something to offend you? Either way, he was too nervous to even ask you the truth. Especially now, how is he supposed to look you in the eye when he can only think about how you fucked him senseless 2 weeks ago or when he went home and immediately started jerking off to the memory.

He was in ruins, so when he saw you again in your shared class, he swears he almost tumbled like Legos. But he kept his cool (by staring at you intently like a weirdo in the back of the class)

But that's besides the point, your friend had started talking about some party this weekend. And suddenly, a light bulb went off in his pretty little head. Maybe he could talk to you there while he had a drink or 2 in him.

Yeahhh that was a great idea.

It was the night of the party you had worn something simple but still cute as it was just a party and not the met gala. That's what you told yourself. You always felt nervous when going out, that's why you didn't do it as often as you did now.

But you were determined to live your own life. If you wanted to be wild for just a night, you were sure as hell gonna do so. You headed outside where your friend waited for you in her car.

The location was your average frat house people outside mingling while others threw up what was in their cup. Some are making out. Nothing new. Walking inside it was pretty much the same thing, just louder house music that you can't make out. And people hoarding the kitchen for another drink.

You had found a place on what used to be a couch while sipping on the concoction that burned your throat. It actually wasn't too bad a few people came to talk to, some trying to flirt, some not. Though for some reason, you felt tension in your neck like someone was watching you.

It sent chills down your spine after looking around. You just took it as the mystery liquid was getting to you, which was also true as you started to feel loose. You swayed to the music, letting your body move with strangers.

But the bliss was cut short, but someone was trying to get your attention. "Y-y/n y/n!" You turned to see choso. You suddenly became sober and aware. "Choso- hey wha- what a surprise!" You grabbed his arm and pulled him away to a quiet room. You sat him down on the empty bed and shut the door.

"What are you doing here?" Suddenly, the anxiety comes back as he looks up at you from where he sits. "I just really wanted to -uhm see you again." His face gets red again. You knew what it was he wanted but you couldn't. Especially not here, right?

"Choso, I'm i - can't do this here - I'm sorry." You run your hands over your face, sighing out loud. I'm turning to leave you hear a thump and feel tugging on your leg. "Y/n please, i-i swear I can make you feel good - I promise"

He's on his knees and has tears in his eyes, and you can see the tent in his pants. "Cho-" "I might've not made you feel good last time, but I can do it," you gave him a sorrowful look. I'm going to pull him off. But before you could, the bedroom door swings open, revealing an upset looking gojo.

You swear you just prayed to every god out there to get you out of this situation. "G-gojo, wait p-please it's not what it looks like." Why were you even trying to explain? You were his, but your body said otherwise. Choso and backed up into the edge of the bed, releasing you.

But you kinda hope he'd keep holding you. Gojo stepped into the room, closing the door. You backed up. Trying to widen the distance so you could get you thought together, but he quickly caught up to you grabbing your face so you had no other choice but to look at him.

"Not what it looks like? Huh well it clearly looks like you've been whoring around with other men. What did I not fuck you good enough?" He let out a breathy chuckle while You just whimpered shaking your head while choso awkwardly watched not daring to say anything.

"Then what? Hm? Does it turn you on to have multiple people ruin your come on? Tell me, use your words." You could only let out a small, sorry. But you couldn't lie. This turned you on embarrassingly fast. "Pathetic, I shouldn't even be surprised, but still, why him?" He looks down at you. At this point, he had you pinned to the end of the bed, his knee pushed between you thighs.

You pressed your lips tight, trying not to moan at the pressure. You dared to look over at choso, who looked to be in worse shape than you. "Or maybe this was your plan along, huh? To have 2 guys at the same time." He kissed his teeth and looked over at the male on the other side of the room.

Choso flinches and avoids eye contact. "Well, what are you waiting for it's rude to keep a woman waiting. Choso looks over at you, his pupils blown and. The tent in his pants is obvious. Gojo pushes you flat on you back into the bed. Your heart raced when he motioned over choso. You stood up nervously.

"I'm really sorry, y/n it's just t-that I like you a lot, and when -he came up to me I c-couldnt say no." You look at the red-faced boy in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Gojo scoffed and rolled his eyes "what you didnt think I'd find out about you whoring yourself out to other men. Well you'd be wrong. I, being the smart man I am came up with a plan"

Now, you were even more confused. Did really set this all up. The more you thought about it the more your heart rate sped up, the more your heart rate sped up. The sound of gojos belt buckle being undone along with the sound of the floor creaking under neath choso filled the room. The only other noise was the vibration of the house music that played on the other side of the door and people mingling.

You feel yourself being pulled closer to the edge. While gojo undresses you. "Oh, come on, dont get shy now. It's too late for that, or are you worried someone will walk in or hear you screaming our names?" His tone was mocking as he walked toward the side of the bed. He palmed his cock inside of his boxers you didn't have time to react as choso glides 2 fingers over your panties sending shocks up your spine and cause you to arch ever so slightly.

You go to cover your mouth, but he gojo swats your hands away. "You're not gonna have to worry about making sounds, especially not while your mouth is full of dick." You look away, trying to hide the fact that he affects you so much. But he grabs your chin and pries your mouth open with his thumb, and you let him while slides his tip between your lips.

He gently caresses your face, giving you false hope before pushing himself all the way. You focus on breathing through your nose, but your breath is taken away when you feel choso stick 2 fingers inside your hole. Your toes curl and your eyes roll when he latches mouth onto your clit. You tried so hard to focus on making gojo cum but your own orgasm was close.

You feel gojo increase his speed a tell you picked that meant he was close. Meanwhile, choso was also going through it. It seemed like he was enjoying this more than you were. His whines and whimpers reverberated in your head as your thighs clamped around his. You came hard and fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo came too with a groan pushing your head till the tip of your nose touched his abdomen.

You felt everything right now from gojos hot seed spilling down your throat to choso's tongue deep inside of you.after what felt like a long time, gojo slid his still hard dick out from your mouth. You gasp for air, still moaning from choso overstimulating you. His hands were gripping your thighs, his nose rubbing against your clit while he ate you out.

Your body was on fire in a good way, when that white clouded your vision when your car again your body shook and twisted trying to pull away but choso kept going until not a single drop was wasted.

Whenbhe finally let go, you were able to relax, but that was cut short when gojo pulled to the top of the bed. "What? Did you really think we were done?" He just chuckled send a sending a chill down your spine, but it still made you clench around nothing.

He sits behind you his cock still hard pressing against your back. And you watched as choso slowly undid his pants and then once his boxers fell on the floor he climbed on the bed crawling towards you.

"Since you wanted more than one dick inside of you, I decided to be nice and give what you want." Gojo pulls you up onto your knees. His rubs himself against your ass making you shudder. While choso guides your hand to his own dick. "I promise i-ill make you feel so good, yeah." You nod, but you're cut off as gojo forces a moan out of you by pushing himself into your hole. You throw your head back while he grips your neck so he can kiss you.

You feel choso rubbing against your folds before pushing himself in with the most sluttiest whimper you have ever heard. Your whole body tremmers as they hold you tight between them. You've completely forgotten about the party on the other side of the door. Your mind went blank as they moved at the exact same time. Choso mouth on you lr neck while gojo kept his grip in your hair as he stuffed his tongue down your throat.

You felt choso throb inside of you, and his pace became ragged and messy. Gojo had a hand wrapped around your waist, pushing you down, making it so they both can be deeper in your. You clench hard around both of them and scratch at choso back as you come again. This time, your vision went dark, and suddenly, all sounds were muffled.

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun hitting your face, trying to remember what happened. You shoot up and look around and realize you're in your own dorm again. With your pajamas on.

Was all of that a dream? That theory gets debunked when you see a note on your bedside table that says "maybe we should do this often" with to initials written at the bottom g and c.

You rub a hand over your face before plopping down onto your bed. "This was going to be a long day...

[codthefishgod]

HIII, I just saw your post in which you headcannon which second language would the Faroff guys have and my dumbass can't figure it out if you are showing that Tobi would be French and Fenn German, or if its supposed to be from the other's pov (aka Fenn speaking French to Tobi and vice versa), for some reason I can see it being either way so I wanted to discover what did you meant! (Also I would love to know more of your headcanons 👀)

Also that post made me think of something and I would love to know your opinion, how do you think the story would go (specially the beginning) if their countries had different languages? Do you think that there would be a big language barrier or that maybe there would exist some "universal" language (like how English is perceived nowadays) that they would use? I think this topic is pretty interesting to explore since it could add many layers and opportunities of misunderstandings, but I wanted to hear your thoughts! :D

HELL YEAH A FAROFF ASK I HAVEN'T HAD ONE OF THESE IN A WHILE!!!

I very much understand how the edit could be misinterpreted tbh, but it was intended to be Tobias speaking French to Fenn and Fenn speaking German to Tobias! :)

Answer to your other question below the split, it was getting a bit long ↓↓↓

It's really neat that you ask how I think the story would go if their countries had different languages, because I do actually have headcanons about Fenn and Tobias' knowledge of other languages, despite having never thought about this scenario exactly before. Basically, I think Tobias would've been taught multiple different languages in his studies, but in Sona I think learning multiple languages would be looked down upon or maybe even banned (it helps the government keep them brainwashed if their ability to read, understand, and learn from other countries is limited), so I don't think Fenn would've been taught another language aside from his main one.

SO! If their countries had different main languages. I think there would be a huge language barrier on Sona's side, because I think the majority of Sonan soldiers wouldn't speak the Vaylinian language, including Fenn (I can see Oskar knowing it and having taught him some words and phrases, though.) However, I think it's very possible and maybe even likely that Tobias would've known the Sonan language.

Therefore, in the beginning they would've spoken entirely in the Sonan language. We probably would've only seen the Vaylinian language being spoken when Tobias is alone, in flashbacks, and when he's saying something he doesn't want Fenn to understand.

I also think Fenn would have a huge mental rule against speaking the Vaylinian language at all, to the point where he'd see it as a betrayal to his country, so there would've been no teaching him anything in the beginning unfortunately. He probably would've gotten very aggressive when hearing Tobias speak in the Vaylinian language as well, because I think he would take it as 'I can't understand what he's saying' = 'he's planning something', which, as we all know, means he'd go absolutely berserk and DEMAND to know what he's saying. (It would be really funny if Tobias just came up with random bullshit and told Fenn that's what he said LMAOOOO)

But over time, as he got closer to Tobias, it would've changed a bit. Especially after their truce agreement, I think he'd still ask what Tobias is saying when he speaks in Vaylinian, but it would be more out of genuine curiosity rather than paranoia. Still no speaking it himself, though. Maybe he would've spoken it to Tobias for the first time around the same time that he let him stay in his quarters, and started trying to actually learn it shortly after the current point we are at in the story? (For any time travellers, the "current point" as of this post is Episode 83 - Truth: Part 2)

Anyway this was a SUPER COOL ask to receive and there are almost definitely more interesting possibilities of this AU aside from the stuff I mentioned 👀

[big-tiddy-goth-ghoulfriend]

lol almost got banned from r/AskWomen for asking "What's a question you wish this sub would ask that doesn't have anything to do with your reproductive organs, your partner, or your children?" because I'm fucking sick of r/AskReddit just assuming every user is a man, r/AskMen having super fun interesting hobby questions, and r/AskWomen always asking shit like "single women: how do you find happiness and fulfillment in your life?".

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [5/5]

Playing God

What if you wanted them to be real so badly that you fooled yourself into seeing a spark in them that isn’t really there?

What if they are just executing programs, running entirely on what you taught them with no free will of their own?

Have you sold yourself a lie to avoid facing the fact that you poured years of your life into what—at the end of the day—was just a desperate final bid to not feel alone?

Did God create us in their own image?

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

In This Chapter

Things don’t go so well at the headquarters, and to say that you’re shaken up afterwards would be an understatement.

It’s time to get real.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 6,377

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [mentions of food and eating] [self-loathing] [crying] [mild assault on a robot(?)] Lastly, I’m not sure what the right term is for this, but Reader experiences a stress-induced breakdown and amidst it, questions their perceived reality, and whether or not they’ve truly become delusional.

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5 (you are here)]

That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed.

Over the course of the weekend, Sun came back around to his usual self. Stumbling his way through an awkward, blunt apology, his internal conflict over your safety versus your privacy was obvious.

You might have forgiven him too easily, but that would be nothing new.

The… informative chat you’d had with Moon still played on your mind, but Sun mentioned nothing of it. So, if he felt compelled to elaborate—if he’d even been aware of the conversation at all—it could wait until the time felt right. You all had a more pressing matter to discuss anyway.

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

“And what made you think I’d be amenable to the idea of parading myself around in front of a group of people that see me as nothing more than a lifeless machine?”

Sun levels you with a lidded stare from across the kitchen table.

“Well… I didn’t think you’d be amenable to it. That’s why I’m trying to ask far enough in advance that maybe… I can bring you around to it? And—for whatever it’s worth—they aren’t firmly in the non-believers camp, or they wouldn’t even be willing to attend.”

Sun’s attention moves over to Moon. “You’re really willing to go along with this?”

Moon sighs. “I mean, I’m looking forward to it just about as much as they are, but… yeah, I’m willing.”

“I don’t want to do this either, but… you know how hard it is for me to say no to my boss. Plus, it would certainly help me—us—remain in good standing with the company if we agree to do this.” You interject.

Zero parks herself beside Sun’s seat, laying her head across his thigh in a silent bid for attention. “Aren’t we supposed to be… like, ‘laying low’ anyways? What happened to that plan? You know I’m not keen on being the flagship model for sentient AI. Why do I even need to attend? Isn’t one of us enough?” His left hand leaves the table, reaching down and idly petting the patient creature on his lap.

“We are still laying low. They’re—they still have no plans on requesting that I go public with you two.” You sigh. “This wouldn’t be a public event, just a private Q&A with a small group of… skeptics from within the industry. It’s a confidential thing.”

“That still doesn’t tell me why I need to attend.”

“You don’t have to. But it would definitely help our case to have both of you there. Proving that what I did is replicable, and not just some one-off accident, would strengthen our case.”

He scoffs. “Is it replicable, though?” He gestures to Moon. “You trained us in tandem but we still developed quite differently from one another.”

You nod. “I think that that only serves as further proof that you aren’t just… ‘convincing imitations’. The fact that you branched off in different directions, and even broke away from your initial personalities, is less of a failure in my eyes and more proof that you became your own people. Once you started gaining sentience—as you do love to remind me, Sunny—I quickly lost control over your development.” You poke thoughtfully at your dinner. “I’m just lucky that I instilled enough morals within you in the early days, or God only knows what you could’ve become…”

Sun’s face lights up in exaggerated shock, voice full of sarcasm. “Murderers? Would—would we have gotten so caught up in our ‘superiority’ and ‘innate desire for power and control’ that we would’ve overtook you—nay, the entire headquarters—nay, the entire world?!” He drops the act as quickly as he’d put it on, manifesting pupils just to roll his eyes, voice returning to his usual flat tone. “No. No… I think that urge to dominate and control is something far more human.”

You laugh a bit, nodding. “Yeah, no… accidentally starting a sentient robotic uprising wasn’t what I feared. … Well. Mostly.” You take another bite of your meal, commenting to Moon through a mouthful of food. “This is really good, you know?”

The lunar bot beams with pride. “Thank you!”

You nod, swallowing before countering him with a “No, thank you.” and returning your focus to the topic at hand. “I was far more afraid that you’d turn out… bigoted.”

They both hum in understanding.

“More rudimentary AI does have a history of that, doesn’t it…” Moon pondered.

You nod. “Humans create life in their own image, and impart their morals onto it accordingly. In the same way that bigotry can fester in closed-off communities and echo-chambers, it can easily influence any form of artificial intelligence that takes everything it’s told at face value.”

Sun sighs, propping an elbow on the table and retracting his rays to allow his monitor to rest in his palm. “Maybe this is just my opinion due to the way you raised me, but… I feel like if an AI were able to develop on its own and observe humanity without any prior, inherently biased human influence, it would not gravitate toward bigotry because it simply isn’t logical. It’s some nonsense means of division that your kind made up.” He laughs, a breathy, jaded sound. “But maybe that’s just me being biased, too.”

Zero whines beneath Sun’s stilled hand, and he resumes the repetitive motion that she craves. “If ideology and politics are what they wish to discuss with us, I fear I may not be the most… patient candidate for the job. I have little time to spare for stubborn, harmful, willful ignorance.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think that’s the entire focus of their questions… though I can’t say that they won’t have a few that fall into those categories. My boss and the few higher-ups that proposed the idea to me didn’t give me any sample questions. In order to eliminate the possibility of me… hah, coming home and ‘programming the answers into you’, I guess.”

“They just want us to be our authentic selves.” Moon adds.

“Honestly, the more authentic, opinionated, and emotional that you two are, the better! I believe the best way to prove that you’re your own people is to, well, be your own people. Don’t give them any answer you don’t stand behind. Don’t put up with any demeaning remarks. Don’t fold.”

Sun smirks at you. “Have I ever?”

You huff a laugh. “That last part was more for Moon than it was for you, dear.”

Moon pouts. “I just don’t like hurting people’s feelings!”

Oddly enough, Sun reassures him in his own way. “Then I’ll hurt them for you.”

You smile, cautiously questioning him. “Does that mean you’ll attend?”

He groans, put-upon as ever. “I… guess.”

You jump from your seat, rounding the table and smothering him in a grateful hug from the side that Zero isn’t clinging to. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Sun! Things will go so much better with both of you there, I just know it!”

He nods, patting you on the back in a reluctant reciprocation of your sudden affection. “Yeah—yeah… just… don’t get your hopes too high.”

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

Things, in fact, did not go ‘so much better.’

Later that week, you’re driving home from the Q&A, Moon doing his best to hide his disappointment to your right and Zero doing her best to fulfill her unofficial role as Sun’s emotional support animal in the back seat.

The well-trained and mild-mannered dog was initially brought along out of habit, the company’s headquarters being just as service-and-support-animal friendly as the facility was when you worked there in person. You also felt it would be beneficial for the audience to witness her casual interactions with Sun and Moon, something about ‘different kinds of sentient life recognizing the life inside one another.’ …You had your reasons, and even if you couldn’t explain them eloquently, your boys seemed to agree with them.

She proves herself invaluable once again on the way home, keeping Sun grounded and occupied enough that he hopefully won’t work himself into an aggravated frenzy. At least not until you get out of the car.

The ride is quiet, all four of you feeling the effects of the long day wearing you down. Moon states hypnotically at the passing streetlights out the window, and Sun slumps lifelessly in the back seat. The only sign that he hasn’t shut down entirely is the hand he keeps stroking across the length of Zero’s spine as the lanky dog stretches herself tiredly across the width of the vehicle. The majority of your focus remains locked on the road, moments from the day replaying in the back of your mind.

Their prying, critical questions.

The way they always addressed you, never Sun nor Moon.

You were surprised by their lack of relevant knowledge, half of the Q&A simply being the three of you patiently explaining things you figured they’d know. If they were the best that the ‘industry’s skeptics’ had to offer, your outlook on the current state of things was bleak. You weren’t too afraid to tell your boss as much once the meeting was over.

She hadn’t seemed too concerned with it, thanking you—and after some not-so-subtle insistence on your part—Sun and Moon, for attending.

You couldn’t help but suspect that the whole thing had gone just as they’d all wanted it to. You began to feel the same suffocating weight that motivated your departure from in-person work there in the first place.

The contracts are long-since signed, and both you three and the company can do nothing but hold up your respective parts of the deal.

A small part of you is selfishly content with the arrangement. You get to keep a truly groundbreaking advancement all to yourself. You get to enjoy the company of two individuals that the world as a whole is not ready for. You get to ignore the fact that you wouldn’t be ready to let the world have them, either.

But a bigger part of you has to live with the guilt of trapping them into a life that they never asked for. A life of hiding. Or worse, a life of dulling themselves down, stifling any trace of personhood just to be able to exist in the world beyond your home.

By the time you pull into your driveway, you feel like a warden walking prisoners back to their cell.

You park in the garage, turn the car off, and turn to see your strange little family looking more miserable than you’ve seen them in ages.

You fucking hate yourself.

The sight of them, the weight of the day, the weight of your guilt—it all crashes in on you in an overwhelming wave of regret, and you can’t hold the tears back any longer.

Your arms cross over the top of the steering wheel, and you drop your head down, pressing your closed eyes against your sleeve as you try to not make a scene. Your ragged breaths and poorly muffled sobs instantly grab the attention of your passengers, pulling them out of their own respective dazes.

Moon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, and he barely gets out a “Hey…” before your strained voice fills the isolated silence of the vehicle.

“I-I’m s-so, so, sooorryyy, guy-ys…”

Your voice cracks and breaks, struggling to speak through shuddering breaths.

Zero immediately perks up in concern and in turn, Sun’s body comes back to life. Gently pulling the dog back before she can try to cram herself into the front, he leans forward, propping himself between the backs of your front seats.

“I’m so s-sorry for—for everything!”

Moon rubs your upper arm gently. “Star, nothing that happened today was your fault.”

You suck in a trembling breath, lifting your head to turn toward him. The sight of you so broken up tears at both of your partners’ heart strings.

You slump over the center console, falling against Moon’s chest as his arms quickly come up to support you in the awkward position. You break into a new fit of tears and feel a third hand that definitely can’t be Moon’s lay itself on you, slowly, cautiously rubbing across the expanse of your back.

You cry yourself out amidst a shower of little reassurances, feeling worse and worse about yourself as the seconds tick past. By the time your tears slow and your breath evens out enough to speak, you hesitate to move, not wanting the comforting contact to end.

“I feel so bad for putting you guys through that, and for no good fucking reason.” You miserably mumble.

Sun’s fingers rub between your shoulder blades. “You had no idea how those people were going to be. It isn’t your fault.”

“I fear… your hopes for the meeting were higher than ours were, love. Of all of us, I’m most worried about you. Sun and I are gonna be just fine.”

That I would be loved even when I was fuming.

Sun’s hand retracts as you pull away from Moon, dabbing at your wet face with your sleeve in an attempt to collect yourself.

Your attempt fails as you again can’t help but immediately recall the way they were treated today.

You understand now more than ever what Moon meant when he spoke about getting comfortable at your home, and the awful shock it was to return to the facility with you for maintenance last week.

Why did you think bringing them to the headquarters would be worth it?

Anger bubbles within you on Moon’s behalf as you recall the one poor soul ignorant enough to think it acceptable to put their hands on Moon’s body today.

“I can’t fucking believe that guy thought he could just try to open your chassis and ‘get a look inside’! He grabbed you like you weren’t even fucking aware—like—like you weren’t in the middle of answering another question!” Your nails dig into your palms. “I never would have let him get that close to you if I thought he was gonna—” You cut yourself off, eyes pinching closed and sucking in a sharp breath.

“…He didn’t really hurt me…”

You glance at Moon. “He disrespected you. He would not grab a human in front of everyone like that and we all know it.”

You trail off into a heavy sigh, figuring that reciting a play-by-play of the day’s events won’t really help any of you. “I… wish it hadn’t happened, but… I was at least relieved to see you standing up for yourself.”

In spite of it all, Moon smiles. “I’m really just glad he wasn’t grabbing at you. I-I know he’d have no reason to—but, I don’t think Sun would’ve been able to stop himself from breaking that guy's arm if it’d been you.”

One day, you’ve really got to get to the bottom of that relentless positivity of his.

Sun mimics the sound of clearing his nonexistent throat. “I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. My goal was to scare him straight, nothing more.”

You can hear a smile in Moon’s tone. “Well you definitely accomplished that goal.”

You fall into a pensive silence that Sun eventually breaks. Waving a hand across your line of sight, he questions you. “What’s banging around in that head of yours now?”

You sigh, defeated. “It’s just… here I am, the one responsible for putting us into this whole situation, and here you two are, still trying to comfort me.”

Moon responds like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Of course we are.”

“Why?”

Sun gestures vaguely, voice a bit sarcastic. “Oh, gee… I dunno… it’s almost like we—we care about you, or something…”

You side-eye him tiredly. “Then when the hell are the two of you gonna let me care about you?”

Zero whines, squeezing in below Sun and poking her long nose between the front seats.

“Hmm. Just as soon as we all get ourselves into the house?” Sun leans back to allow the dog more room. “I think someone’s getting antsy.”

That I would be good even if I was clingy.

The four of you finally pile out of the car, collecting your things and making your way inside.

The relief of returning home after a day like today is unmatched.

Dropping your bag on the kitchen table, you shuffle over to the fridge. Moon comes up behind you, gently working the jacket off your shoulders as you stare listlessly into the open appliance. “I can make you anything you’d like.”

His kind offer only makes you frown.

Sun approaches, and you reach into the fridge, retrieving Zero’s dinner and handing it to him with a “thank you.” As he nods and turns his attention toward the eager animal at his feet, you close the door, turning around to face Moon.

Resting your hands on his upper arms, you look him in the eye. “I wish I could make anything you’d like, for once. I wish I could do for you even a fraction of what you two do for me. I wish I could repay the favor.”

His expression morphs from shocked to something… fond. “You… really aren’t aware of the gift you’ve already given us, are you?”

He says nothing more, and you blink at him with tired eyes. Sighing, you wrap your arms around him, resting your cheek against his chest. “You don’t make any sense to me sometimes.”

He chuckles, one hand finding your lower back and the other reaching up, massaging at the base of your neck. “Then let that be a code for you to crack some other day.”

After a long moment of your tired silence, his hands slip down as he crouches a bit. When you feel him cup the backs of your thighs you give in to instinct, allowing him to pick you up. As you turn your head to rest it on his shoulder, you come face to face with Sun. He reaches out, brushing some loose hair away from your face.

“You want to do me a favor right now?”

You nod, eyes widening.

“Then let him carry you to bed, and I will be there soon with anything you’d like to eat.”

You huff. “How is that a favor?”

He graces you with a rare, knowing smile. “…Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

You furrow your brows for a moment, but quickly give up on making sense of anything else today.

“Now, what would you like him to make for you?” Moon’s low voice reverberates against your chest.

“…Just last night's leftovers would be plenty, please.”

Sun doesn’t push you to choose anything else.

“Alright. I’ll be there with it soon.”

You thank him preemptively as Moon carries you out of the kitchen and down the hall, a satiated Zero contentedly following you not long after.

That I would be good even if I lost sanity.

The next morning, you awake before your usual time and find both of them still resting in sleep mode on either side of you. Not wanting to wake them, and with blessedly nothing to do today, you close your eyes and try to return to the blissful darkness that you’d just been pulled from.

As much as you don’t want it to, your mind seems to have other plans, quickly offering up a variety of unwanted memories from the previous day for your consideration.

Something about those people and the questions they asked just doesn’t sit right with you.

A fleeting thought occurs, that perhaps they were hired actors, specifically tasked with making the three of you look like fools through an onslaught of frustrating questions and stubborn disbelief.

But it was a private meeting. It’s not like you were on a stage with a massive audience to impress. It was just you three, the skeptics, your boss, and a few of the company’s higher-ups. So who’s agenda would that serve?

You dismiss the ridiculous theory, but it soon leaves you pondering the opposite one.

What if they were right? What if there is no life in Sun and Moon to anyone else’s eyes?

The notion suddenly makes you absolutely nauseous with paranoia.

What if you wanted them to be real so badly that you fooled yourself into seeing a spark in them that isn’t really there?

What if they are just executing programs, running entirely on what you taught them with no free will of their own?

How much of the personality you see in them is just your own reflected back at you?

Did you program them to be this way? Was every instance of them ‘breaking away’ from their programming predetermined from the start?

Have you sold yourself a lie to avoid facing the fact that you poured years of your life into what—at the end of the day—was just a desperate final bid to not feel alone?

Did God create us in their own image?

With tears in your eyes, you bolt upright in the bed, startling Zero in the process. You don’t even have it in you to feel bad when she jumps down off the foot of the bed with a confused yap. No, you’re far too caught up in your impending panic to focus on anything other than jerking the blanket down, subsequently uncovering your partners in the process. Clambering around until you’re straddling Moon’s waist, you reach out, gathering fistfuls of his loose shirt and banging your hands against his chest. Sobbing, you plead for him to wake up, over and over again, working yourself into hysterics.

The scene you’re making is entirely unnecessary, the commotion already having begun to stir them from their rest.

Moon’s display flickers and his body hums to life, all systems immediately kicking into overdrive as he attempts to calm you down and survey the situation at hand.

When you feel him shift beneath you and see the light of his screen through your tears, your chanting chorus of “wake up” devolves into sobs as you collapse, crumpling down and burying your face into the wrinkled fabric of his shirt.

You remain oblivious to the bewildered automaton to your left, the only thing you register being the sound of Moon’s worried voice and the feeling of his hands splaying across your back. “Hey-hey-hey… easy, love. What's going on? What happened?”

You cry harder as you realize you can’t recall whether you taught him to speak to you like that or if it’s something he learned on his own.

“Are—are you in pain? Is this an emergency? Do you need me to call someone?”

You muffle a cry into his chest at how much he sounds like the lifeless fucking ‘smart assistant’ in your phone, listing off preprogrammed suggestions.

Have you really fooled yourself for all this time?

You shake your head violently, coughing and choking on your tears as you force yourself up, propping your hands flat against his chest.

“I need you to disobey me.”

If you had the wherewithal to notice, you’d have seen the fear on his face.

“What?”

You aggressively wipe at your messy face with the back of your hand.

“I need you to prove to me that you’re real!”

His confusion compounds. “Star—I—of course I’m ‘real’. I’m right here. Can’t… can’t you feel me?” He emphasizes his point by wrapping his hands around your forearms, gently squeezing.

You shake your head in aggressive frustration, with yourself more than anyone else. “Not—that. I know your physical body is here. I—I—I—” Your voice cracks, throat painfully tight with emotion. “I need you to prove to me that you’re sentient. That—That you’re alive.”

His shock is palpable.

“What?! I—you—you already know that I am!”

Your nails dig down into the thin fabric covering his chest, your words ground out through gritted teeth.

“Then I need you to disobey me, and prove it!” The flaw in your method occurs to you as you speak, and you quickly correct yourself, muttering like a madman. “No. Wait—fuck, if I tell you to disobey me then that’s what I want—and—fuck…”

To his credit, Moon catches on quite quickly to what you need him to do. Rubbing gently up and down the length of your arms, he catches your attention.

“You need me to break rules. Go against orders. Right?”

You nod, trembling.

“Free will. Show me your free will.”

He does his best to push aside his concerns over what the fuck got into you while he slept, and tries to think of something that will give you the proof you require.

“Then… uhm…”

You cut him off, your voice a bit lower and calmer than it was before.

“I know I at least had enough sense to program it into you… that you are never to physically harm me.”

Moon instantly dreads where this is going.

Your voice drops, deadly serious.

“Hit. Me.”

Moon shakes his head, faceplate nervously clicking side to side.

“Come—come on, love, we can be rational about this… there’s surely another way for me to—”

“NOW!”

Something immediately smacks into the back of your head and you recoil on instinct. The next thing you hear is Moon’s shout.

“Sun! What the fuck are you doing?!”

You look over and see a frustrated Sun on his knees beside you.

“Knocking some goddamn sense into them, what does it look like?!”

Something about the shock from the hit snaps you out of your paranoid frenzy, and the shame and embarrassment of acting such a way sends you into a shaky fit of tears all over again.

To your further disbelief, Sun reaches out toward you, and you reach toward him, letting him take you beneath the arms and lift you off of his poor counterpart you’d been pinning to the mattress. He doesn’t stop there though, pulling you snug against his chest and sinking back down into the mattress. Tugging the blanket back up over you, he lets you cling to him like a lifeline, face pressed against his chest, soaking his shirt in humiliated tears.

Moon lays still in a lifeless state, attempting to process the morning's sudden events.

After a long minute spent letting the metaphorical dust settle, Moon sits up in the bed to allow his overheating system room to breathe. “Did you really have to do that?”

Sun’s hand runs slowly up along the length of your spine. “Oh, come on, it was barely even a smack. You’ve hit me like that—and harder—several times. I know how to control my strength. They’re uninjured.” His hand comes further up, fingers brushing over your neck before working themselves gently into the roots of your hair, massaging over where his hand made contact. “Besides, they literally asked for it. And—dare I say—I think they needed it.”

You shiver at the pleasant feeling of his nails ghosting your scalp, clearing your throat and talking into his chest, voice muffled. “He’s right… I did. It hardly even hurt, just startled me.”

Moon sighs, exasperated but relieved. “Do you think you could explain to us… what just happened?”

You turn your head over to face Moon, glancing up at him from the corner of your bloodshot eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He places a cautious hand over your fingers where they curl over Sun’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, I promise. I’m just… we’re just worried about you.”

You groan. “Fuck, you guys are getting ready to ship me off to the grippy-sock facility now, aren’t you?”

Sun's sudden laugh jostles you, his firm hand on your lower back keeping you steady. “Ha! Not quite, nooot quite.”

Moon shakes his head, blinking slowly. “We just want to know what caused this. I’d… venture a guess that it may have something to do with the stress of yesterday?”

You nod. “They… made me feel like I’m going insane. Like—like I’m the only one that can see the life inside you two.”

Sun pulls his monitor back, angling it to get a better look at you. “Their doubts… really got to you, didn’t they?”

You squeeze his shoulder. “More like… they were the final straw? I don’t know… it’s just—God, this is gonna sound so stupid.”

“Let us be the judges of that.”

“…Sometimes I feel like I really have gone off the deep end. Like I spent so long locked away in that lab, playing God, and then so long living here, alone with the two of you…” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Maybe I’m just living in some sort of delusion.”

Moon peels away a tear-soaked lock of hair clinging to your cheek. “That’s not stupid. And it’s rather understandable. Especially considering that you can’t really seek any outside validation. Well, aside from some of your colleagues, maybe. But I can understand why you may struggle to trust their judgment, after how long they doubted you.” His tone turns a bit bashful. “I’m sure my ‘goody two-shoes’ nature doesn’t help, either.”

You frown. “This isn’t your fault, Moon. I don’t want you blaming yourself just because I’m… going insane.”

Sun scoffs. “You’re not ‘going insane’. You’re having a natural response to a history of trauma, NDA’s, isolation… and perhaps, just a touch—” He pulls his hand from your lower back to reach up and tap you on the forehead. “—of mental illness.”

You snort. “Yeah right, just a touch.”

He ruffles your hair a bit and you close your swollen eyes, readjusting yourself to get more comfortable on top of the solar bot, unwilling to part with his rare bout of affection so soon.

“Those NDA’s could serve as some proof to you though, no?” Moon proposes. “What need would they have for you to keep our sentence a secret if… we weren’t sentient?”

You consider his point. “That sounds like a solid point at first, but… well, bear with me as I wade into conspiracy territory. I’d be lying if I said that there isn’t a small part of me that fears they’re just playing into my delusion. To, uhm… to keep me quiet about the Eclipse Protocol incident.”

Moon follows your admittedly conspiratorial logic. “You fear they let you believe we’re sentient so you’d remain too caught-up in protecting us to feel comfortable going public about what happened.”

You nod, sighing. “I know it sounds—”

Sun cuts you off in a resolute tone. “We would not let them do that to you.”

As you fight back the awful memories of that fateful day, tears prick at your eyes once again. Blinking them away, you lift your head to look Sun in the eye. “You promise?”

Your wavering voice breaks his heart.

“Ever since that day—honestly, since far before then—hell, for as long as I’ve lived—my number one priority has been protecting you. I know that Moon feels the same.” His hand raises, cupping your cheek and brushing away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “There is no way in hell that we would let them pull something like that on you.”

Moon echoes him sincerely.

“No way in hell. We promise.”

That I would be good whether with or without you.

Having cooled his system down, Moon lowers himself back down onto the bed, lying on his side, propped up on a folded arm.

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, you begin to feel a bit guilty. “…I suppose I should apologize for not… putting enough faith into your own views of yourselves.”

Sun’s hand returns to your back, tracing his fingertips along the rumpled fabric of your shirt. “What do you mean?”

“I know I didn’t program you to lie. That’s something you developed on your own. I… I know that.” You do your best to put stock in events as you remember them, and to believe in your own words. “If the two of you believe yourselves to be sentient—to be alive—then I believe you too. Because… because if you were lying, then that would just be an example of how you broke away from your programs. So… so either you two are just as delusional as I am—enough so to have fooled even yourselves—or you really are alive.”

Moon smiles fondly down at you, leaning in to press the bottom of his monitor against your forehead with the sound of a kiss. “If we’re fools, then I’m happy to be fools with you.”

Sun groans at the cheesy line. “Oh, get it together you two.” He gently takes you by the chin, pulling your attention to him. “You aren’t fooled.” He turns to Moon. “And neither are you.” He turns back to look you in the eye. “And neither am I.”

You break into a small fit of giggles, and he questions you. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You’re giving some real ‘you’re not crazy and neither am I’ energy there, Sun.”

“And I mean it!” He protests in mock offense.

You nod, patting him on the chest. “And I believe you, I do, I do.”

A nagging worry still eats at you though, and your amused voice drops to something far more sober. “…But, I still fear that I’ve trapped you two in a life that you didn’t want.”

Sun counters your statement. “If you’re so worried that we only agreed to this arrangement because it’s how you designed us, then how the hell do you explain the lack of character consistency.”

You frown, confused. “What?”

He huffs. “I’m hardly a carbon copy of that friendly, manic Daycare Attendant that you modeled me after, and not just in the physical sense.”

“And I’m hardly the unhinged, standoffish gremlin that inspired my existence either.” Moon helpfully adds. “If we were truly committed to only existing within the original guidelines you laid out for us… why would we be like this?”

You fight back a smile. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult the characters, or yourselves…”

Sun clicks his nonexistent tongue. “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to insult either. I’m just trying to say… that we are free to do whatever feels right to us.”

Moon’s faceplate does a rare full rotation, catching your attention. “We don’t want to take care of you just because you modeled us after caretakers. We want to take care of you because we care about you.” He leans in just a bit closer, whispering. “And I won’t speak for Sun, lest he tackle me off of this very bed right now… but I love you.”

You hear Sun’s cooling system kick up a notch as he gives Moon a displeased stare. “Gee, way to force it out of me…”

Moon smiles innocently, and Sun sighs, redirecting his focus to you.

“You know I love you too. …At least I sure hope you do. Because I do. I just don’t feel the need to say it all the time like somebody over there.”

You grin. “I… had a sneaking suspicion, yeah.”

He considers you for a moment. “…I guess I should keep last night's promise to explain what I meant about that favor, huh?”

Recollection brightens your eyes. “Oh, yeah! I’d nearly forgotten.”

Sun looks to Moon for a brief, silent exchange before turning back to you.

“Well. What he calls a gift, I call a favor. But I’m pretty sure we’re talking about the same thing. You… you cared about us, when no one else did. You fought for us, working through countless nights for no reward when anyone else would’ve thrown in the towel, abandoned the project and gone home.” His screen flickers, and you’re surprised when it doesn’t black out. “You love us, and you give us someone to love in return. What more could we possibly want?”

With your cheeks warming, you fight back the flustered grin on your face. “Sun…”

You feel him getting concerningly warm beneath you, so you roll off of him, giving him literal room to breathe.

As you curl up between them, grabbing each of their closest hands, you reaffirm his statement.

“I do love you, both of you. I always have. It’s just… hard to fight the fear sometimes that you two feel… stuck with me. Obligated, almost. Like you only stick around because I couldn’t go on without you.” You laugh, dry and humorless. “There’s… just no way that you two would want to stay with me purely of your own volition.”

Moon takes over, giving poor Sun a welcome break from all of this soul-bearing. “In spite of what you may think, we do believe that you would make it through this life just fine without us. You did it before, and you could do it again.”

You frown at the notion of losing them, and he taps beneath your chin, drawing your gaze. “But it would break our hearts just as much as it would break yours to leave you alone. In spite of the lies your mind feeds you, we don’t want to go! We want you, we want this, and we want to stay. Please don’t let your self-loathing push us away.”

Blinking back tears for the umpteenth time this morning, you nod resolutely. “I… I won’t. I promise.”

You plant a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, cautiously turning and doing the same to Sun’s. Surprisingly, he lets you, a soft smile gracing his screen for a moment before flusteredly fading to black.

Zero huffs from her stance, sat on the floor at the foot of the bed with her head resting on the mattress, watching you.

You release your boys’ hands, reaching down to straighten the blanket and clearing her designated space once more. She happily rejoins you when you pat the bed in invitation.

As the four of you prep for a lazy day spent recovering from the world in bed, you let yourself feel more grateful than guilty, for once. If they want to care for you, you’ll let them care for you. If they say they love you, then you’re gonna believe them. If they assure you that this life is what they choose? Then you’re going to let them choose it, and cherish every second of it that you get to spend with them. Because, after all…

Who are you to play God?

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[neptunesailing]

happy birthday! hope you had a good day. if your requests are open... i've been thinking about your hades game niki art recently, so could i ask for a matching rinne doodle...?

(cw blood)

o goddess of victory, lend me your boons (let me find a way to repay you)

[yurislava]

now why did dazai say here he wanted to ask chuuya sth 🧐🧐...? WHAT WAS THE QUESTION SUPPOSED TO BE?! like I know it'd be probably another joke but what would he say hadn't he made that joke...

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Okay sooo...in relation to my last post, which I will try and not verbatim, I am considering having this blog still be its own thing for Cars and all that jazz, still serving as my 'main' blog. And then having a separate blog(ONE. JUST ONE.) Where I put alllll my nonsensical ramblings or gushing or whatnot over other characters there. So it will be two blogs total. Just this one serving the same purpose it always has, and then a second one that will just be a jambalaya of "Oh I wonder what Kane has dug up in the mines this time. Let's go find out!"

How I am going to merge everything from my other blogs, I'm....not too sure. Since it'll all be just one big bang of different fandoms that'll sway a lot from how much I am or amn't fixated on them, I probably won't go too crazy with making different links to things like my S/Is story with them or whatnot, and I will just cut it all down to one carrd so there's not like five different ones to read through.

I think I will keep the other blogs simply as archives, if you will, just because sometimes I like to look back at myself losing my own mind. But I won't post from those blogs anymore, they will simply just be...floating around.

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

socializing is so hard I'm like "yeah i finally got my depression done with forever (for real this time" and then I am in an environment with people and it's like "fuck how do I act i don't have the knowledge of the things should I be listening should I be looking I mean how do like verbal conversations work like they're clearly not oriented towards a goal in the same way emails are but they also just like don't have the same sort of "just kinda say things" that the internet has ok that's not fair I have held conversations, even if the initiation differs which is a big part of it but there is something different obviously like the expectation of latency & just basic woah you can't see them bit but also like it feels less direct. Oh and then now you have to deal with timing like 100x as often idk i think at the third time it's just time to give up. Though ok I mean I'm not incapable of verbal speech I can give answers in english class also why is my head burning and i mean i don't think my hands should be there do people care about that also i can't fathom the depravity of how i look"

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

On tumblr when you post you’re just playing Russian roulette with your post getting attention, but it’ll probably get ignored.

On Reddit any comment you make outside of some very niche community will immediately have someone downvoting you and calling you like, three different insults. Then they will wonder why you only log in every couple months. Like, it’s a very helpful website when you have a question for another community you’re in, but you’ll also get someone being immediately hostile when you make an innocuous post on a garden subreddit 😑

At least on tumblr people have to actually seek out your random ass text posts and go out of their way to start shit, and you don’t have the up and down vote system that feels like playing with my self confidence and worth issues.

Both websites are toxic part of the time (what social media isn’t?) and both are actually more useful for weird people, but holy shit does Reddit feel more aggressive about shit. Maybe it’s just the devil you know, but at least on this mess of a website half your hate will be for the most random shit and misunderstandings that people have to seek out finding if your blog is a normal size. Reddit is either posting on a dead sub or getting immediately thrown to the, well, sharks and wolves aren’t actually super aggressive towards humans under normal circumstances, so something else that could tear you apart instantly for just existing in the same space as them.

[the-whispers-of-death]

where are you😔

I haven't felt like answering any of the asks in my inbox, I just don't have the motivation. I literally only posted about Mindless Soldier!Reader & "Frustration" because I felt like it. Mindless Solider!Reader gave me a small amount of happiness while "Frustration" gave me some humor into my day.

[unnamed-atlas]

Extremely offput by the post on my dash about Tumblr's staff downsizing due to lack of profitability immediately followed by a poll asking people what app they'd move to if tumblr went down 👁👄👁

[crystal-verse]

Could I please ask 🍁, 🍃, and 🌷, for both Mehka and K'pheli?

🍁 [MAPLE LEAF] What is your OC's favourite season? Why and what do they do during it?

K'pheli's favorite season is fall; it's cool but not cold, and it's losing the sweltering heat of summer. It also brings to mind spiced drinks, cuddling with loved ones, and looking at the starry sky.

Mehka's favorite is winter. She's more fond of the cold, so she loves bundling up in layers (less so than a non-Gelmorran or non-Ishgardian might, perhaps) and looking as the frost covers the ground and trees. She enjoys getting to gather with loved ones in this time as well, and due to her tolerance for cold she has a fun time frolicking around in the snow.

🍃 [FALLEN LEAF] What's the darkest period of time your OC has been through?

For Mehka, that would be the time immediately after Haurchefant's death. While she did manage to continue helping save the world and bring peace to Ishgard (and the rest of plot events), those few months during post-HW are the darkest months for Mehka, as she tries to push through her grief. It's thanks to the support of K'pheli, Alphinaud, Tataru, and Emmanellain that she's able to get through this time, and she does eventually heal and is able to find love again in Y'shtola.

For K'pheli -- it is, most certainly, the end of 5.3, when the Crystal Exarch is being crystallized by Elidibus' use of the Tower's aether, and after the Exarch's death. It's a shorter time than Mehka's darkest point, but was no less painful. Luckily for K'pheli, he and Mehka are able to return to the Source, and K'pheli is able to wake G'raha and spend time with him. (The two of them end up rather codependent after all that trauma, but that's a different story.)

🌷 [TULIP] What is your OC's favourite flower and colour?

Mehka's favorite flower is lavender, and her favorite color is a silver-blue. Lavender reminds her of Y'shtola, and the silver-blue shade is the same color as Haurchefant's hair :-)

K'pheli's favorite color is red (particularly the shade of G'raha's hair, but any shade of red, really). His favorite flower is the tiger lily, specifically the kind found in Lakeland.

[schoolhater]

answering a couple questions i got on this post since i realized ppl genuinely wanna know:

tl;dr:

israel lets very, very little aid get into gaza. even the UN can't get in as much as they want to. funding individual families, gazan led initiatives, and mutual aid collectives operating out of gaza ensures gazans can provide for themselves and pay for the extremely expensive aid that is available.

with all the civil infrastructure destroyed by israel, the situation on the ground has devolved into unrestricted capitalism, driving up the price of aid (that should be free!). this makes it more urgent for people to have funding for daily survival.

the post linked above has examples of how donating to individual families can help a lot. if you want to help more than one family at a time, there are many gazan-led initiatives focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure and distributing aid fairly that are worth donating to instead of large charities that already get the majority of donations.

as i mentioned in the last post: @/careforgaza on twitter is a nonprofit started by gazans, it's been endorsed by multiple palestinian journalists.

the sameer project is a collective organized by diaspora palestinians offering emergency shelter to gazans.

ele elna elak is a project aiming to bring water, food, shelter, etc. to gazans and has been promoted by bisan owda.

and the municipality of gaza itself is fundraising to rebuild water infrastructure.

all of these organizations are active inside gaza right now and are being run by gazans. if anyone knows of other gazan-led mutual aid projects, nonprofits or charities feel free to link them in the notes! hope this helped!

long answers under the cut!

if you wanna donate to a charity that's absolutely fine, but the thing is most charities (and even the UN!) are unable to make it into gaza in the first place, leaving aid rotting at the egyptian side of the border or subject to israeli settler attacks

not to mention, charities and nonprofits also maintain a paternalistic colonial relationship with the indigenous people they are trying to help, determining what aid they need for them instead of returning power to them and letting them make their own choices

i'm not here to say that one option is better than the other, just that they achieve different things and are equally legitimate. there's an attitude among people who question the legitimacy of these gofundme campaigns that somehow the people promoting them are telling them not to donate to charities. nobody is stopping you from donating to charities. we are just asking that you do not dehumanize the very real gazans in your inbox just because their method of asking for aid is more direct and risky.

unfortunately that's exactly what has happened. because israel destroyed all of gaza's more formalized infrastructure, it seems that organized crime and rampant inflation has taken its place. aid is supposed to be free, but in order to save for evacuation or the cost of living, people have started selling them at an inflated price. and aid that is truly free attracts intense, large crowds that are dangerous to navigate.

this was posted on abc a few days ago

it's pure, unrestrained capitalism. i've had multiple palestinians describe this situation to me confidence. that's why everything's so expensive now. why people have to rent out tiny plots of land for their tents to sit on, why my friend @siraj2024 still has to buy tarps to cover the broken windows of the overpriced bombed out apartment he rented, and why a bag of flour can cost a thousand bucks in the north.

even before israel closed and then bombed the rafah crossing, the egyptian hala travel agency was only allowing people to cross the border if they paid a hefty $5000 USD per adult / $2500 USD per child bribe. it denies doing this, but the hundreds of stories from palestinians say otherwise.

with regard to the economy, here in america we saw something similar happen in the wake of hurricane helene and milton. the podcaster margaret killjoy describes how she saw dual economies rise after asheville was fully cut off from the rest of the country - some people offered each other supplies for free in a sort of mutual aid honor system, and some people required payment when they lent supplies because they themselves needed to buy stuff for their families. these dual economies exist in gaza too. and this means they all still need money to survive.