#i hope stampede ends with that kind of hope

[weirdcat1213]

I'm never recovering from the moment I actually understood the hope in the midst of chaos and violence and pain that trimax and trigun 98 conveyed

Like I got it and that shit is life changing. Cuz terrible stuff happen and keep happening but omg there's the future with so many possibilities and people who can change and are good and even if not because of that there's the little things, there's the animals that are alive that make you say "life sucks but look at that blue sky". In the middle of so much darkness there's a little light thats so easy to miss but the fact that is there and you can hold it and never let go it's something I wish I understood sooner but at the same time I'm glad I got that rn cuz again, the future is so full with possibilities.

And that's what I finally understand about the endings of trimax and trigun 98 and why "sad" was an incorrect way of defining them. When vash laughs and joins his remaining friends while a bunch of people try to capture him once again and when vash from 98 left his red coat and his extreme attachment to rem's ideals and carried his brother to start a new life even though it will be hard. Cuz that man fucking understood there was hope. He understood there IS hope as long as we got blue skies and nice old songs and friends who will be by our side and memories from old friends and family.

Holy shit man, hope

[bobosbillionsknives]

i agree with a lot of your points about knives, i do also think he is aroace of some kind (demi imo), but the way he ignores bodily autonomy wasn't a theme that was new to stampede. the way he consumes other plants and forced vash to use his angel arm are examples of it, though less explicitly 'sexual'. either way, his actions weren't born out of sexual attraction, he simply thinks that all plants are an extension of himself and he can use their bodies as he pleases since its for a 'greater purpose'. he is not a predator but he isn't innocent either

Oh no no no no no no no I do NOT wanna give the impression that I am genuinely defending knives is ANY way. 😭

I completely agree with everything you're saying. He is inarguably abusive. Saying he's not would be a wild ass claim to make. 🙏 My only argument here is that it isn't specifically sexual, but I'll get more into that in a bit. 😝 I have SO MUCH to say abt this...so I'm gunna use this as an excuse to word vomit on y'all. Thank you for bringing this to me I am itching.CRAVING to talk about my favorite girls always. 🤗💖

INSANE ESSAY POSTING LETS GOO !!!

I think your point on Knives seeing the plants as an extension of himself is SPOT ON!!! He does the same thing with Vash too. He's doing it because hes so stuck up his own ass he seriously thinks there is no possible way he could ever be wrong, everyone else is just too blind or stupid to see it his way. That's why he does the whole "eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede" bit. He genuinely cannot comprehend that Vash just fundamentally disagrees with him. He thinks if Vash goes out and sees every horrible thing a human can be he'll finally give up the hippy dippy act and face this false reality Knives made up as a coping mechanism so he never has to actually face any of his problems. Cause stabbing all your problems away is waaaaay easier than actual growth or change. Top ten girls who are trapped by the horrors of their past 😂!

Knives has a blatant misunderstanding of people's worth outside of himself. He disregards the lives of others constantly, he literally murdered 20 mil+ and was genuinely confused when Vash was mad at him for it. He doesn't take anything seriously. He especially doesn’t take physical pain seriously, unless it’s happening to himself. [DID YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT ME!!?] He's said that he knows none of the crazies he sends after Vash can ever kill him. He thinks if they can't kill him, then none of the hurt Vash experiences during these fights really count. Its always a game to him. He knows Vash will be fine because he has faith in his ability to fight. (He's complimented his fighting skills several times lol.) Yet he’s consistently shocked and disgusted when he sees Vashes scars, like he didn’t play a role in that ??? He just never thought of it until it was literally staring him in the face.

HE THINKS EVERYTHINGS A DAMN GAME !!!!!

Knives never really wants to force Vash to agree with him either, he's literally waited decades for him to come around to his point. He's definitely lashed out violently before, and has disregarded his safety. But I don't think he actually even likes seeing Vash in pain 😭 (maybe a little in a Itoldyouso brother kinda way lol.) He's completely horrified when he sees his scars. This panel speaks absolute VOLUMES to me. He is angry that Vash would allow people to hurt him this much. (Bro is for sure a victim blamer 🥱 Vash OBVIOUSLY should've known humans are evil and would do this to him. 🙄 HIS FAULT !) Those scars solidify in his mind that his brother is reckless, and clearly doesn't know what's best for himself. That's why he feels the right to "save" him from humans. Knives out of anyone in the world knows how much Vash disregards his own life. He's angry that his own brother would choose the perceived violence of humanity instead of the safety he has worked SO hard to cultivate for over a hundred years. After everything they learned from their childhoods, Vash would have to be deaf and dumb to keep crawling back to them. (From his perspective anyway.)

Everything Knives does he thinks is to better Vashes life. That's what makes him such a tragic character to me. He genuinely believes he's in the right and doing everything he has to so him and his brother can feel that safety that was never guaranteed to them in childhood. He loves Vash, (PLATONICALLY !!!! 😰) He wants Vash to be happy. He just doesn't understand why, that despite everything, living alongside the humans is what makes him happy. Something he only accepts at the end of trimax when he literally trees himself to assumed death so Vash could have that. Knives is unambiguously in the wrong, but I do think his thought processes are sympathetic. WRONG. But like .I get it girl. Besides, he acts more like a toxic mother than anything. How DARE you be so ungrateful after everything I've ever done for you that you've never even asked for. ✋😒 and EXPLICITLY told me not to do. Ugh. 🙄 you don't even love me…guess im just a terrible brother than huh…🥀 BITCH SHUT UP !!!!

Now about the asexuality, not only...do I think Knives is aroace. I think he's completely sex REPULSED!!!!! Sex is a mark of human degeneracy, animals clinging for power over each other. Hed think hes above it !! It would disgust him, I don't think he's ever had a sexual thought in his life. He’s also a Jesus freak he'd think procreation in general is a sin 🙄‼️ik his interpretation of the bibles gotta be INSANE. Exploring sensuality is like a normal and healthy thing to do no fucking WAY Knives is self aware enough to do all that. If he could experience any kind of libido, his hatred of humans would never allow him to explore it anyway. Since sex is such a huge part of human culture. He probably thinks consensual sex is a myth humans made up to assault each other easier…😭

this is literally him bro I can't see him any other way...🚬 He's literally a pearl clutching mom who refuses to understand anyone else's experiences because he doesn't understand them.

I can't imagine him being able to feel romantic love either...I actually think it would be pretty out of character ngl. Plus I think it could be an interesting element of why he feels so disconnected from humanity in general. It would be part of why he feels the need to define himself as alien. Knives would rather die than admit this, (and he did) but all he's ever wanted was understanding. The same way Vash does. Knives doesn't understand sexuality/romance, or deep empathy, or most social confinements at all. That's clear by his inappropriate emotional reactions and lack of a filter. He can't feel emotions the same way Vash or Rem can. It makes it very difficult for him to relate to and connect with others. Especially Rem. He feels too wrong, too broken, too alien. But he's convinced himself that this is actually a superiority. So he can sleep at night. But he's far more human than he'll ever be willing to accept. The familial love he feels for Vash is the only thing that makes him feel normal. And it's why he clings to it so desperately. I think that feeling being explicitly familial makes the most sense for the story.

(cut for explicit talk of SA/CSA)

Im never one to dismiss bad actions from a fictional character. If I thought Knives was a sexual abuser, id say it. I even considered it before I watched/read Trigun and kept it in mind the whole time because of how prevalent of a take it is. If anything, I feel like theres more evidence for metaphorical depictions of Knives BEING sexually abused than being the sexual abuser. I mean his literal whole thing is how plants bodies are used and abused against their will. Solely for the humans gain. While it's slowly and painfully killing them. And how afraid he is that they'll do it to him too....😭 He would be absolutely HORRIFIED by SA. I just don't think it's an abuse he'd perpetuate. It goes against literally everything he stands for. I get he’s a hypocrite and all but I could just never see Knives of all people doing anything sexually ever. ESPECIALLY for his own pleasure.

Both Vash and Knives read to me as CSA victims. This would need to be a separate post all together because there is entirely just too much to say. But I feel very strongly about this interpretation and it's why I'm so firm on this. Sexual abuse is a huge theme in trigun OBVIOUSLY!! And Vash and Knives can easily represent different ways people cope with trauma like that. Knives gets angry, and bitter, and lashes out. While Vash shuts himself off, and tries to run away from it all. Two extremes from two brothers. Two sides of the same coin and all that. They've been victimized, I think it's the main reason why Knives would be so angry and distrustful of humans. Now I know Steve was kind of a throw away character from the anime- but I believe long term interpersonal abuse from a human early in life would explain a lot of the deep rooted hatred Knives has for humanity. Along with his hatred for Rem if she failed to protect them, and his deep sense of entitlement to protect Vash if Vash couldn't protect himself. (Tesla was the last straw for Knives bc at least for a while he thought he could trust Conrad till all that happened and he realized the only person he could ever trust was Vash, and that fear never really left him even 100+ years after.) (My interpretation of Conrads role is also a different post gerrrrr TOO MUCH TO SAY.)

Knives' ideology has always been inconsistent, I can easily see him disregarding autonomy in some ways but refusing to in others and never making a mental connection between the two. Plus Knives would think Vashes scars are shameful and disgusting. He probably cant even make himself look at him let alone touch him be so fr. Knives' definitely has an unhealthily attachment to Vash but not in a sexy sex or ROMANCE way 🤦‍♂️ ITS JUST HIS BPD YA’LL 😝‼️#favoriteperson #extremefearofabandonment #vashkeepsleavinghim (also another separate insane essay post) there is no argument here that Knives isn’t extremely bad at emotional regulation. Familial/platonic dynamics like that happen literally all the time it’s just not evidence of anything to me. I can't even see Knives directly punching someone let alone be capable of sexual violence against his own BROTHER ? I'd argue he's far more verbally/emotionally abusive than he ever is physically anyway. He doesn't even kill directly, it's always either done without a second thought by his powers, indirectly by starving the population out, or by making other people do it for him. He doesn't seem to actually enjoy seeing people in pain, more the satisfaction of a job well done. I don't see why this wouldn't apply to Vash too? He doesn't even usually initiate their physical fights. Vash does. (He has every right to, for the record. Knives just doesn't comprehend why Vash would be mad so he always tries to talk like everything is normal. Lol.) And when they are fighting he always puts his hand on his face ?? More annoying than a direct indication of violence. He could just punch him or something but he doesn't? Like violence in Trigun isn't a thing known to happen. Idk I think that's interesting and worth exploring a bit yk ???

Obviously he chopped his arm off I'm not saying he's innocent there either, just that he's more likely to be emotionally manipulative than explicitly interpersonally violent LOOLL. He didn't chop off his brothers arm because he enjoyed it, to him that pain is neutral. It was just a super casual reminder. But SEXUAL violence is completely different, sure it'll leave scars but you can heal from physical pain all day and night I mean commooon it barely even COUNTS as real pain. (Because he rarely has to experience it.) (A certain someone's got a major empathy problem.) And if it kills you it doesn't matter cuz you're already dead 😝!! But SA is different. It's his worst fear and greatest agony. It's something he knows sticks with you your whole life, he doesn't think that's a wound capable of being healed. (So he never tries and chooses to live in constant fear and anger instead.) That's how I see it anyway...🤕 Again it's not like he's a reasonable guy he is known to be a bit unstable idk if u knew...

Actually if anything, I think Vash would be the more interpersonally violent of the two. (Vashes abuse is always reactionary tho he would never act like that if Knives would just be normal lol he is not the aggressor here.) I can't see Knives punching Vash but I could VERY easily see Vash punching Knives ykwim ??? (For trimax anyway, ik kid Knives beats the shit out of him in 98 which I DO think is funny. But I don't accept into my personal canon okay LISTEN we are talking about a lot of conflicting characterizations here. JUST HEAR ME OUT. ✋) Knives never even really blames Vash for BLOWING HIS LEGS OFF in July too, which I always thought was so interesting. It makes me think this is actually a common thing for them to the point that they don't even argue about it outside of "are you actually aiming at me again 🙄?" Which is more bitchy than angry. Like ugh I can't believe you. Typical, typical Vash. 🥱 He'd probably use it as a way of proving to him that they are the same. And despite denying it, Vash would actually agree and feel a deep sense of shame abt it. He's had 150 years of pent up anger after all. He almost killed him with a rock once lol. I'm tired of everyone woobifying Vash as some kind of perpetual uwu victim. Vash is fucking mean sometimes. He is just as capable of violence as Knives is. The same way Knives is just as capable of great kindness. It is known that Vash is in fact physically STRONGER than Knives. (With his plant powers and id assume in general because Vash actually goes outside while Knives reads in his garden all day.) I truly believe that the only reason Knives ever wins the sibling fights is because of Vashes constant hesitance. He's not a battered wife stereotype. All Vash wants is control over his own life, the last thing he'd want to see himself as is a helpless victim. It's why he always pretends nothing is ever wrong with him. It's why he doesn't accept help, and values other people's problems far above his own. His kindness was always an active choice and that's why he's such a powerful character. And Knives would bring out the absolute worst in him LOOL all that work he's done to better himself is instantly thrown out the window the second Knives' very punchable face walks in the room.

He was fighting absolute demons not to run over and beat tf out of Knives in this panel

This is why I feel so disgusted by stampede and the way they handled their relationship. They've dumbed down these characters to the point that they are unrecognizable. Literally every aspect of stampedes portrayal of them feels like a first conclusion based on a synopsis of their goals and personalities. I get there's only one season but that's a LOT to fuck up in one season bro. 😭. There is absolutely no salvaging Nai as a character for me. I'd cover my drink around that guy I find him genuinely repulsive. At least with trimax, you can read around an initial sussy reading if you wanted. How anyone defends Nai, I don't even know. That whole plant insemination thing is pretty on the nose y'all. Literally doesn't even make sense for him to do that like? Why would he want more independent plants??? It's like they tried to make Knives' motivations make sense when the whole point should be that they don't. He's fighting ghosts out of fear. Stampede wasn't even good enough to justify its own existence by how it looks. Adding peculiar plant pregnancy preggo fetish incest bait is just the turd on the turd cake. They ruined the most compelling part of the story for me. Pfft.... But whatever...🚬 not like I care ....🚬

Not to mention Legato y'all don't even get me started. The guy that HATES humans more than anything in the world taking in a HUMAN -SEX TRAFFICKING VICTIM. The one time he's ever taken pity on a human being and it was someone who was the victim of a violent sex crime. Yeah guys that dude. Total raper. Defo a brother diddler. What the fuck are we talking about right now y'all. I genuinely feel like sexual violence would be the last thing knives would ever do ever. I understand that there are sus scenes in the manga that could be interpreted this way, but considering the many themes in Trigun and his place in the story as a whole, I think it is such a misrepresentation. And it frustrates me to see it as one of the only things talked about in regards of his character. If I could, I'd rewrite every scene in the world so people could understand what I see, but I can't. And I know I can't control how other people see the media I like. Trigun is extremely interpretive, and I understand why this is a common conclusion. But I guess I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than that. I have criticisms with trimax and ESPECIALLY 98. And there's obvi a lot id change to fit what I'd find most interesting. (Also why every headcanon revolves around Knives somehow teehee) BUUUUUT I do think all of my analysis is pretty based in canon. I can't stress how insane I am about this and how much I've thought about it 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕. Believe me, I've considered every obstacle. And I've stayed consistent.

Knives is a raper feels like the easy answer to me. To be completely blunt, it's just not as compelling. Vash and Knives would both have very complicated relationships with their bodies and sensualities and gender and their relation to their plantself and their humanself and blah blah blah whatever. I'd much rather explore that as a separate result of the same abuse than default to supercestsimulator69. Knives is already an abuser. Making him a sexual aggressor too doesn't really add anything to the story besides diminish and dumb down his very complex motivations. Vash and Knives should be very good friends who know each other better than anyone. (They are trauma bonded like CRAAAZZY, very codependent like y'all get it.) I think that would make their conflict SO much more interesting. While providing some great context to why Vash is so willing to give every horrible person he meets a second chance at life. If I saw my brother, who I love, and is my best friend in the whole wide world, slowly deteriorate under the pressure of the abuse we we're BOTH experiencing; go fucking crazy and kill everyone. And I KNEWW. He genuinely believed he was doing what he had to do to protect the both of us...I'd probably also give everyone the benefit of the doubt idk. Vash understanding Knives' motivations but still holding on to that (justified) resentment and anger is ESSENTIAAAL to their dynamic and also literally all of Trigun. Sexual abuse throws a rock in all of this. If anything I think Knives would tell Vash "I'm the only one who WOULDN'T assault you. They're human, they'll only see you for how useful you are. It's what they do. It's what you know they do. You're choosing them over me the same way Rem chose Steve over us." Knives' abuse is complicated and multifaceted, not just some gross display of power. He's not even the most power hungry character in the world. He's got a whole cult dedicated to him that he canonically IGNORES.

And he sure as shit doesn't respect people who are desperate for power over others!! He'd think he's above that too. Just more evidence of human deviance. (Like the scene in 98 where kid Vash and Knives are watching the humans fight over water. Animals who think one is more deserving of resources than the other.) He's narcissistic in the literal diagnosable sense but definitely not some kinda megalomaniac. I think that's a huge mischaracterization. He doesn't want to rule the world, he wants to destroy it. And he wants Vash to be his equal in this, he respects Vash. (as far as someone like Knives can respect anybody at all) He doesn't understand why Vash would choose to be so "dumb" because he's never allowed himself to feel the vulnerability of potential harm that Vash wants him to understand is worth it. It's why he locks himself away from the world, he's afraid of being victimized again. Knives' morals are all over the place, he genuinely doesn't think murder is bad but would consider sexual violence to be the worst thing anyone could ever do EVER. It's not like we're talking about the beacon of reason and consistency here y'all, Knives is cray cray sauce.

Anyway that's my thoughts, sorry this took forever to answer. 😿 And ended up being SOOO long.. I've on and off mauled over this writing and rewriting again trying to make any of my garbled thoughts make any sense. Hope it resonates with anybody at least bc I genuinely feel like I've been taking crazy pills lately LOOL. Take care of yourselves everyone. 💖 Never an easy subject to talk about.

[thechekhov]

thoughts on the huge OGL debacle around DnD at the moment?

mmmmmMMMMMM BOI

I was going to be holding off on commenting until something was confirmed by WotC because I hoped to get more info but. I think we basically got what we need. 

For those who don’t know - the CONTEXT:

Earlier last month there was a leak that made the DnD community peek up out of their little holes like a bunch of meerkats hearing a stampede. Y’see, currently, Wizards of the Coast (a company owned by Hasbro, a corporate giant in board-games) is working on a new DnD version that is meant to replace 5e (5th edition of DnD, the most current one). They’re calling it One DnD, and it’s in play-test right now. But there’s a problem. Along with new stuff, they were apparently planning to revise the OGL - the Open Gaming License which had been a staple of the DnD Era since 2000.

The OGL 1.0 was essentially an open world ticket for third-party creators to use DnD game mechanics to build worlds, create monsters, and expand upon the creative base that was DnD. In 2008 they attempted to publish 4th edition DnD under a different, less open gaming license, which ended up severely hurting their overall standing with the community. When they published 5e, they returned to the OGL and DnD has gained traction with the public thanks to various gaming groups (such as Critical Role) rising to fame. Because of the OGL, many people have made adventures for 5e DnD, making monster manuals compatible with the game, and basically expanding on a huge, growing world. There have been kickstarters for new adventures, new compendiums, etc, which were an incredible creative sandbox for just about anyone who wanted to try their hand at creating.

And now it seems like they fucked it up. 

A leak made it clear that WotC is working on OGL 1.1 - which is basically a giant middle finger to everything the original was. They are now demanding royalties from anyone creating new content if they make over 50kᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ 750k a year from their creations - which in and of itself isn’t super unreasonable.... except for the fact that they can lower this number at any point. 

ALSO with the new OGL (1.1) WotC would OWN the rights to anything made using any of their content (including homebrew made by creators - yes, they would own settings/character just because those adventures use their system) indefinitely, demand they receive financial reports from anyone making 50k or more.

What’s more, they reserve the right to change their own license at any point, with only 30 days notice. (Which basically means that if at any point they decide to demand recompense from people making more than, say, 20k from their little homebrewed setting in 5e, they can do that with nary a month’s warning.) 

“...according to attorneys consulted for this article, the new language may indicate that Wizards of the Coast is rendering any future use of the original OGL void, and asserting that if anyone wants to continue to use Open Game Content of any kind, they will need to abide by the terms of the updated OGL, which is a far more restrictive agreement than the original OGL..." (source)

So as you can imagine, for the past few weeks, the entire DnD community and the ttrpg community at large have been gearing up for either a fight, a mass exodus, or both. It would not be the first time. 

And then, just recently, we had another comment, this time from inside. An email was sent out, which has been evidently confirmed by one of the recipients as true, describing what is happening inside of WotC. 

[I'm an employee at WotC currently working on and with business leaders on the health of the product line. If you want I can provide proof of this.I'm sending this message because I fear for the health of a community I love, and I know what the leaders at WOTC are looking at:

They are briefly delaying rollout of OGL changes due to the backlash.

Their decision making is based entirely on the provable impact to their bottom line

Specifically they are looking at DDB subscriptions and cancellations as it is the quickest financial data they currently have.

They are still hoping the community forgets, moves on, and they can still push this through

I have decided to reach out because at my time in WotC I have never once heard management refer to customers in a positive manner, their communication gives me the impression they see customers as obstacles between them and their money, the DDB team was first told to prepare to support the new OGL changes and online portal when they got back from the holidays, and leadership doesn’t take any responsibility for the pain and stress they cause others. Leadership's first communication to the rank and file on the OGL was 30 minutes on 1/11/23, This was the first time they even tried to communicate their intentions about the OGL to employees, and even in this meeting they blamed the community for over-reacting.I will repeat, the main thing this leadership is looking at is DDB subscription cancellations.Hope your day goes well,PS will be copying and pasting this message to other community leaders]

(source)

As for my comment in all of this? 

I won’t pretend to be a local expert in legal terminology. Others can probably parse the full leak far better, and I don’t think there is anything to be gained by running around in a panic and screaming...

However. 

The fact of the matter is, Hasbro/WotC are shooting themselves in the foot. I don’t believe they have the right to destroy the original license. Make a new one for OneDnD? Sure, knock yourself out. Try it, see how popular it’ll be. But destroying the community-driven 5e will do only that - destroy it. They will not be gaining any money from the fans which are already plenty used to supporting small-level creators first and large companies second. It’s a supremely counter-culture move which will eat them from the inside out. 

The only ones that I feel for are Critical Role - who originally played in Pathfinder and then switched to 5e and paired up with DnD Beyond.............and are now being screwed over because they’re likely locked in a contract with WotC and are contractually obligated to not speak out negatively against the changes. 

In my heart of hearts, I kinda hope that their tablets all mysteriously ‘break’ for the next few games and they go back to pen and paper instead of barking out DnD Beyond ads as they’re expected to do. But I don’t know if that’s something they can afford to risk. 

(.....though hell, I hope they try to afford it. They have a community that will stand behind them, and that community has MONEY. We won’t know until we know, though, and I know that there are legal repercussions that may go beyond a simple income slap on the wrist.)

Personally, here’s my two cents: 

I think people should cast a vote with their money.

 Cancel your DnD Beyond subscription.

Don’t give any more money to Hasbro or Wizards. Keep playing whatever 5e games you want, but do it using third-party digital character sheets, OR just go old school and do pen and paper. Let me know if you need sources for it. 

Don’t buy the Players Handbook, leave DnD Beyond behind, don’t engage with One DnD. There are resources out there that let you play the game that also don’t require you giving money to corporations that are only here to fuck around and find out. You want an adventure module but don’t want to bow down to the dragon sitting on its hoard? Hit me up. I’ll give you some alternatives. 

Hell, I myself will be looking into Pathfinder 2e because I’ve heard good things, and if I need to switch any future games to a different system because Fountry VTT or Roll20 will stop offering the 5e presents, it’ll be a very good alternative. Paizo just came out with a statement that they will write their own version of the OGL which will keep the spirit of the open game alive, and Kobold Press is gearing up with their own stuff. 

I won’t be throwing out my own games, and I don’t feel there’s a need to stop playing 5e. I have a Curse of Strahd game to finish, and that game belongs to me and my group now. We don’t need the module - it needs us. 

... all that is simply to say - Wizards may soon be realizing that when you live on the Coast... pirates are never far. 

(edited thanks to corrections from @magpiesarefluffy )

[xveenusx]

Love

Paring(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

Summary: in which two people come to terms with how dangerous their love is, but it's impossible to leave.

Author's note: Rafe on his knees is sending me. This is part two to Hate and is complete angst because I like to hurt my own feelings. ALSO, the GIFS depict exactly what's going to happen in this peice to help you visualize it better :)

Rating: ANGSTY, but kind of a good ending but not really bc they are horrible for each other

Warnings: v toxic relationship

Part 1: Hate

━━ ★ Masterlist

_____________________

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

My head hung against the cool tile in the shower, water pounding against my body as I fought against the urge to succumb to my pain.

You won't ever be over me

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Yet, it didn't work. I couldn't block out his words as they pistoled into my mind again and again. Slapping my hand against the tile, I groaned out loud and rubbed my eyes.

Memories of my mistake continue to stampede over every coherent thought I could form. It was embarrassing how easily I gave into him, but when he touched me, all sense went out the window.

He was the chink in my armor, because when he loved me, I mean really loved me, the sun shined brighter and the world went into focus. He could ask me anything and I would have told him in a heart beat. There was just this sense of security that finally gave me the ability to be myself. I felt like I was safe and solid ground for the first time in my life.

But as time went on, there were small slip ups that caught my attention. The hushed meetings with his father, his eagerness to be around my friends, the constant Q and A about gold.

I pushed passed the alarm bells ringing in my head because I didn’t want it to end. I caught him in lie after lie which always ended in a screaming match. I’d storm away but it always ended in us finding our way back to each other. Always.

Maybe it’s wrong to say this, but I was relieved that he needed me just as bad as I needed him. He couldn’t seem to leave me alone either.

The longer we were together, I couldn’t help but begin to question why he was really with me. The idea of there being an ulterior motive for loving me paralyzed me with fear.

Because, if that was true, I didn't think I'd survive it.

So like a junkie, in every sense of the word, I gave into the drug that was Rafe Cameron and gave him anything he wanted. I became an entirely different person that I didn't recognize.

I was so desperate to be loved by him that it almost killed me.

A familiar burning behind my eyes made me smile in irony. Tears usually accompanied anything that involved Rafe.

I slowly slid down the shower wall, bringing my knees to my chest, and set my chin on top. Closing my eyes, I attempted to focus on the pounding of the water but despite the noise, it couldn’t overpower the noise in my head.

Detoxing was nearly impossible. I'd take another dose, and then another, but when the high eventually wore of—because it always did—this is what was left:

A shell of me withered down in self loathing.

I hate you.

No, you don't.

The water eventually turned cold but I refused to move from my spot on the floor. I just couldn't face him, not yet.

It hurt to fucking look at him.

A fist pounded on the bathroom door but I chose to ignore it. I shivered slightly at the ice cold water but preferred this biting pain over what awaited me on the other side of that door.

"Open the door."

I turned my head away from the door and instead rested my cheek on the top of my knee and stared at the wall.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Open the door, why is this shit locked anyway?"

I rolled my eyes. The dramatics were unmatched.

"Go away." I croaked out, hoping for once in his god damn life that he listened. "I swear to god."

"I'm shaking in my boots, babe."

Jesus Christ.

"Rafe-"

"I can hear you crying from out here."

That shut me up. I thought I was being discreet. "I'm fine. Please go away."

He pounded on the door again. "Do you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?."

My eyes closed briefly at his words. The organ in my chest that refused to listen to reason began to beat a little harder.

"Rafe, please. I need a minute." My voice cracked at the end of my plea.

It was quiet for a few moments before I heard his feet shuffle away. I relaxed in relief at his departure and lifted my head directly under the water, hoping it will clear my mind.

"Fuck this." Was all I heard before a sharp crack echoed and the door busted open.

My gaze found his and it took all my strength to not shrink under his gaze. I'm sure I was a sight for sore eyes, curled up on the floor of the shower shivering.

Rafe let out a distressed noise before moving towards me but I scooted back, throwing my palm up. “Stop.”

He stopped in his tracks with narrowed eyes. “You have about five seconds.”

“Boundaries. We need boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” He repeated slowly, making it seem like the term was foreign to him. “What the fuck for?”

“Because I need a moment. Let me cry in peace.”

Rafe nodded his head and relief let me drop my shoulders.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone when you cry, there, that’s my boundary.”

I open my mouth and close it. He couldn’t be serious?

He shut off the water while letting out a string of curses as he took in my shivering figure. Yanking a towel off the rack, I'm suddenly enveloped in warmth as he wrapped the towel around my body and picked me up.

His scent lured me in like an old friend. Exhaustion weighed on me heavily so I gave in yet again.

I shoved my face into his neck enjoying the warmth his body provided and the shivering slowly subsided. Rafe said nothing as he set me on the edge of the bed and softly began to dry me.

He was gentle despite the severe expression he wore.

“We should probably talk.” He uttered, running the towel along my legs.

I shook my head, the desire to sleep was overwhelming.

Rafe paused. “I can already feel you pulling back from me.”

He knew me all too well.

Arguing him was pointless. We’d both end up with our voices gone and nothing solved.

“I can’t do this with you right now. I just want this day to be over.” I spoke quietly, fiddling with my fingers.

Rafe doesn’t answer me, instead he grabs some satin set and slowly started to dress me. Lifting my arms, he pulled the thin tank over my head before kneeling down and doing the same with the bottoms.

It was moments like this that almost made me cave. Rafe Cameron, of figure eight, heir to a real estate empire, was down on his knees for a Pogue.

Pressing a gentle kiss to my inner knee, he stood up, towering over me with his hand cupping my face. His face was the picture of relaxed despite our current kidnapping, but I knew it was solely because we were together.

“This can’t happen again.” The words were out of my mouth in seconds.

He just smiled, humming softly to himself as he continued to stare.

So I tried again. “You can sleep on the floor.”

That made the smile drop fast.

“You want me to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes.”

“Like the actual floor?” Rafe asked slowly, his gaze moving down to the hard wooden floor in distaste.

“The fucking floor, Rafe.”

His eyes narrowed at my tone, “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Because, my panties will be off in seconds.

“Try again. I’ll argue with you all night until you tell me why.”

“Does this not hurt you as much as it hurts me? Looking at you fucking kills me.”

“I’m going to marry you. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow. But I will marry you," He said the words so nonchalantly, you would think he was discussing the weather, "So no, it doesn’t hurt me to look at you, to be around you, because I know this is never going to end. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

I waited, for what seemed like forever, to hear him say these words. Yet, now that he did, I simply didn't believe it. Too much has happened. His words no longer held the weight that they used to and for a brief moment I felt a twisted sense of relief because that meant I was one step closer to being free of the shackles that chained me to him.

My brows furrowed as I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came out.

I shook my head and crawled towards the front of the bed, tugging the sheets down and burrowing myself into a cocoon. "Go to sleep, Rafe."

He muttered something under his breath as he walked over to the makeshift bed on the floor. I heared some shuffling before a heavy sigh echoed in our room and I knew he finally settled.

It was for the best. My sanity needed to remain intact and this was the only way. That didn't stop me from missing the warm embrace of his body that always lulled me to sleep.

Rolling onto my side, I peaked over the side of the bed and saw his head already turned in my direction. A faint smirk tugged at the coner of his lips and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"You still want me on the floor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes." No.

Rafe let out a chuckle before silence enveloped us and the only thing I could hear was the sound of our steady breathing. All trace of humor left his face and we stared at each other, his eyes never leaving mine. It almost appeared like he was commiting my face to memory.

"You're safe. You can go to sleep," Rafe murmured, "I won't let anything happen to you."

A familar rush of affection slammed into my chest and I forced myself to break eye contact first. I couldn't let him see the expression that adorned my face. He was embedded deeply into my soul.

"I-" I love you.

Rafe cut me off, "I know."

Curled on my side with the sheets pulled up to my neck, I closed my eyes and whispered painfully, "I wish I didn't."

I could feel his gaze burning holes into my back, but I knew better than to turn around. Sleep, I told myself, everything will be better tomorrow.

Minutes passed and I knew he wasn't going to answer.

"I know that too." Was all I heard before I embraced the darkness with open arms.

_______________

Disoriented.

That's how I woke up. My eyes felt heavy and my head drummed against my skull. This pain comparable to only being severely hungover. Yet, I barley had anything at all. It was simply the Rafe effect, also known as extreme emotional distress.

I rubbed the sleepiness from eyes while my mind betrayed me with replays of the last 24 hours. Peering over the edge of the bed, Rafe is sprawled out awkwardly on the ground sleeping. His bare chest slowly rising up and down, his necklace gleaming from the morning light that seeped into the room.

It hurt to look at him, but when I looked away, it hurt even more. The fear of forgetting what he looked like or how he sounded when he laughed consumed me. What if everything faded?

Love and hate were more similar than one would think.

As if sensing I was was awake, Rafe shifted onto his side and opened his eyes slowly. I watched as his eyes took in our surroundings before last 24 hours finally hit him.

Instantly, his eyes find mine and his body relaxes, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

He got up from his spot on the floor and made his way over to me. Sleepiness still present in his eyes, but his face was content. The bed dips and a warm hand pushed my hair out of my eyes before tracing my nose then the outline of my lips.

"Good morning." The low raspy timber of his voice had me clenching my thighs together.

I allowed myself these few seconds to bask under the glow of his attention. Swallowing down the lump in my throat at what I'm about to do, I steel the storm of emotions that brew inside me.

Moving my face out of his grasp, I shifted my body into a sitting positon, placing a slight distance between us. "I meant what I said last night. This will not happen again."

The words burned coming out my mouth.

"Can we just skip this part?"

I shot him a blank look. "What part?"

He heaves out a sigh, his large hand rubbing against his buzzed head. "Aren't you tired?"

Did he hit his head? Confused filled me as I glanced at the unmade bed. "Tired? I just slept-"

Rafe barked out a bitter laugh. "Of running. Aren't you tired of running?"

My fingers gripped my satin top in an attempt to control my anger. He would choose this exact moment to bait me. Maybe six months ago I would have taken the bait, but I was drained.

He always chose the hard way.

"Really? You want to have this conversation now?" Keep calm. Breathe.

Rafe searched my face with a serious expression, then his lips tipped. "I don't know if you remember, but we have all the time in the world."

I rolled my eyes. Despite my very weak attemps at pushing him away, Rafe never seemed discouraged. He only appeared mildly annoyed at my desperate attempts to kick him out of my life.

"You're about 6 months late on your right to have this conversation. Now, get off of my bed." I tried to shove him off. Nothing.

Blue eyes narrowed. Good, I hope he was mad. He'll finally understand what it was like to be me the past couple months.

"If you're trying to piss me off, it's working. So stop." Was all he said, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Stop doing what, Rafe? There is nothing left to talk about."

"Stop acting like you don't care."

Rafe's determined attitude was exhausting.

And somehow, despite everything, I still felt myself drawn to him, even after how poorly he's treated me.

"Acting like I don't care is all I have left." My stomach tightened at my honesty.

His cold blue eyes grew distant, clearly not liking my truth.

"You have me."

The conviction in his voice would make anyone believe him, but I wasn't going to fall for his pretty words again, no matter how badly I wished they were true.

"No, I don't. I never did so this entire conversation is pointless." I stated a matter-of-factly. "Do yourself a favor and walk away."

Clicking his tongue, Rafe shook his head at me. "There you go again, telling me what I can and cannot do."

I had to hurt him to just get the distance I needed. He'd leave me alone if I hurt him.

"What are you gonna do? Tell your dad on me?" The minute the words flew out of my mouth, I regretted them.

Artic eyes narrowed into slits and his entire demeanor shifted, his shoulders tense and face hard. "Don't talk about him."

"Got daddy issues, do you?" My mouth would not stop.

I could see that I was successfully hitting my target, but it only made my heart ache. It needed to be done though.

Rafe's expression shut off, a familiar cold look settling in his eyes. "Tread fucking lightly."

My heart thudded dangerously as I debated my next words. "I might not hate you today or tomorrow, but I will hate you. Because, hating you is better than loving you."

The words tasted like vinegar coming out of my mouth, but they had their desired effect.

Agony briefly flickers on his face, but he schooled his expression. His eyes seemed to bore through me, our stare off so intense, that I had to look away.

If I believed he could change, even if there was a slight chance, then I would have fought for us. But, I knew him like the back of my hand and Rafe was who he was—unapologetically. I didn't have any fight left.

"I know what you're doing." His voice trembled, dark and on the verge of breaking.

I closed my eyes in defeat. Of course he did. I couldn't even hurt him without him seeing straight through me.

"You want to make me the bad guy? Fine. I'm the bad guy, bad Rafe Cameron. But don't pretend for one second that I'm not under your skin just as bad."

"You are, you are and it's exhausting," I grimaced. "Does knowing that make you feel better?"

"Yes, it does because I'm not the only one feeling like this."

My throat clogged. "How much longer can we keep doing this?"

"As long as it takes for you to give in." Rafe stroked a strand of hair behind my ear, the clouds of his eyes gleaming with twisted adortion.

Frustration bubbled up the surface. He was relentless in his pursuit, not caring if he hurt me in the process. As long as I was his, nothing else matterd, even my pain.

"This isn't a game. I am not a game." I stated harshly, shoving his hand away. "I'm a person--a person who has feelings."

His expression reamined unreadable. "A person with feelings for me."

I was losing. Badly. Talking to Rafe was like talking to a brick wall.

"I've had to put myself together three times, Rafe. Three times!" I screamed, my voice cracking in despair. "Each time harder than the last."

"I finally glued myself together again and you're already pulling away the pieces. For how long am I yours this time? A week?" I pushed. "A month?"

"You've moved on before so do it again. Let me do the same." I cleared my throat to push back tears.

"You think I haven't tried?" He asked incrediously, throwing his hands up in the air in utter disbelief.

Rafe stalked over to me, his eyes brewing with anger as he pointed to the veins in his arms. "You're in so deep, I can't get you out of my system."

I knew the feeling all too well. I am not going to cry.

"'You're right here. Right fucking here and you won't go away." He reached for my hand and placed it directly on his heart which pounded wildy under my touch.

My resolve was breaking and my previous anger easing away like a silent wave. He didn't have any peace either.

The heavy weight on my chest had me leaning forward, resting my forehead against his pec, my hand still in his grasp, pressed tightly against his heart.

"Loving you almost ruined my life." Rafe was a cliff. One that I threw myself over again and again, expecting to fly only to be met with cold hard concrete.

"Again with the meladrama?" Spell broken once more. Another peice being peeled away from me.

A joke, this was all a joke to him.

"You're not listening to me. You never listen to me." I shouted directly into his face, pointing to myself, needing him to finally fucking see me.

Tears finally fell from my eyes as I stared at him with pathetic hoplessness.

"How is what I did any worse than what you did?" The world stopped spinning as his words hit my chest. Something inside me broke.

I shook my head in utter diesbelief at his words. I pushed to my feet, my hands collided with his chest as I shoved him with all my strength.

I headed straight towards the bedroom door, slamming my fists against the door in an attempt to get the guards attention. I was slowly suffocating in this room. He always managed to do this to me.

I should've known better. I mean really known better. Rafe was a mindfuck.

"Run away one more time and I swear to god-" Rafe advaced toward me, his hands reaching out for me.

No, he needed to keep his hands to himself.

"Don't talk to me." I spat, holding my hand up. Facing the door once again, I pound several more times with no response before accepting defeat.

Slumping against the door with my forehead resting against the cool wood, I pleaded, "I can't be in here any more. I just can't."

Once again, no answer.

"We're talking about this. You don't get to avoid this conversation anymore."

"Want to try that again-stop!" Rafe bent down and tossed my body over his shoulder. Anger burned through my veins as I struggled against his grip, but it did nothing to deeter him as he stalked us over to the bed.

Dropping my body roughly on the bed, he towered over me and met my gaze, warning clear in his eyes.

Swallowing my pride, I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my palms. "You can't compare our actions. They aren't even on the same playing field, Rafe,"

"I can and I am comparing them, because believe it or not baby, it's the same damn thing."

Rafe was standing directly in front of me, his large thighs caging my dainty figure in. My chest heaved up and down in anger.

"Is that what you tell yourself so you don't have to deal with the fact that you're a shitty person? I'm not listening to this." My gaze was frantic as I tried to figure out an escape plan.

"I've clearly been too nice. You don't have a fucking choice. "

"Rafe, stop it."

"No, you stop it. Why are you acting like you expected me to be a nice guy? I'm not and never will be. So, you're going to sit here and listen to what I have to say." He tone harsh and unnegotiable, grasping my chin in between his fingers.

I glared, meeting his harshness with mine. Fingers threaded into my hair as he forced my head back to stare at him.

"You knew exactly who I was when you met me. You saw the good, bad, and the ugly and still chose to fucking love me," He snarled, his hand slammed against his chest, "to love me."

Oh god. Was he right? He was.

"Then you leave me for being who you fell in love with?" Rafe's body was shaking as he jerked my head back towards his face when I tried to look away. "Knowing who I am and loving me anyway, just for you to walk away. Am I that easy to walk away from? "

His gaze was expectant but he already knew the answer. No, he wasn't easy to walk away from. It almost killed me each and every time.

"No." I answered, my voice so low it came out as a whisper.

"How is that any more cruel than what I did to you?" I couldn't answer becuase he was right. My heart bled at this point as I tried to scramble some coherent thought. I wanted to say something, anything to counter his statements but fell short.

A sob caught the back of my throat.

"So get the fuck off your high horse. I beat up Pope on figure 8 and guess who kept my bed warm after that?" He mused, his fingers brushing against my knees forcing them open more. "I shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin and you consoled me."

I gulped for air but it seemed like nothing was reaching my lungs. He was right. We were so inextricably linked that his darkness became my own. It was so easy for me to excuse all of his horrible actions simply because I love him.

The laugh he let out sent shivers down my spine. "Fuck, I almost drowned Sarah and you still opened your legs for me. Still loved me, didn't you?"

Horror filled every cell in body. I curled my arms into myself as pain slashed through my heart while my hands and arms shook.

"So which one of us is really fucked up?" Me. Him. Both.

Rafe pulled his lip into his mouth as he regarded me with dark eyes. Leaning over me, he brought his mouth to my ear, the ghost of his breath causing shivers to wrack down my spine. "The answer is between your legs."

I stopped breathing. Wetness seeped onto the silk bottoms leaving an obvious stain on my pants. I tried to close my legs, but Rafe let out a little tisk.

I thought I had a chance to save myself before I got stuck in the trecherous storm that was Rafe Cameron. I was doomed the moment I met him.

He smiled at me almost as though he knew I reached the same conclusion as he did.

Rafe lowered to his knees, resting directly in between mine, with his hands raised up. I stare down at him with broken eyes, my handsome monster kneeling on the ground for only me.

When he saw I made no point to move, his large calloused hand covered my shaking ones while the other softly grazed the damn spot in between my legs causing me to visibly tremble.

"Do you get it now? There is no after for us. There is and always will be an us." The words were spoken softly, but firm. Though his eyes weren't on me, and in stead were in between my lefs. His hold on my hands being the only thing anchoring me.

I did. I hated that I loved him. I hated how he'd never leave. I especially hated how I couldn't leave. I hated my body's gross reaction to him and his filthy words.

"I love you."

My head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise at his confession.

"I do. That's why I wear the necklace and the cufflinks." He answered my question. He finally answered my question.

Before I could respond, a soldier bursted into the room with narrowed eyes. He took in the scene before him before relaxing but my body was snapped with tension.

Rafe looked down at our hands before standing up slowly and letting go. "Trust me."

He was asking in the only way he knew how, by demanding. He'd broken so many promises before that the trust between us was in shards. I found myself nodding anyways.

I'd already been broken before, what was once more?

In seconds, Rafe lunged toward the solider with his hands fisting along the shoulders of the man's bulletproof vest. Slamming his body hard to the ground, Rafe climbed on top before lifting the man's body and slamming it against the floor again and again.

He dragged his fist back before slashing it with quick and brute force against the soldier's face. Blood splattered against the white tiled floors as the man groaned in pain.

Rafe didn't stop. His knuckles becoming a marred mess due to them being split open. He didn't even wince.

"Get the gun." A loud ringing noise echoed in my ears as I stared at the unconcious man on the floor who's face was unrecognizable.

"Baby, get the gun." The term of endearment pulled my out of my head. Rafe's electric eyes stared at me with urgency and darted to the side.

I moved my head in the direction of his stare and see a black gun several feet away. My brain shut off and body felt numb as I picked it up with trembling hands.

My steps were timid and hestitant as I walked back over to him. He held out his hand, the rings shining in the light. "Bring it here."

For a second, a brief second, the thought of shooting him crossed my mind. I could be free of him. I could do it.

No, I couldn't. I loved him. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I rested the heavy pistol in his hand and watched as he dug through the man's pocket and grabbed a phone. "We're getting out of here. I have my boat parked somewhere here on the island. We get to it and we can go wherever you want. Just me and you."

Rafe stood and stepped towards me, determination in his eyes, with his hand held out for me to grab.

I took a sharp intake of breath. My blood rushed loudly in my ears as I decided what I was about to do. My friends, my life, were they worth losing for him?

His necklace sparkling against the sun and those cuflinks shining against his shirt caught my attention.

Our souls were wired together, infused. I was a monster. Just like him.

Loving Rafe was a death sentence. Little did I know—I was already dead.

I reached for his hand.

_________________

Psycho toxic rafe is the man of my dreams but also my nightmares :) They are both crazy though clearly and need help.

Let me know what you think! Next up is Conrad fucking Fisher and I assure you, your heart will be broken.

Tag list: @narcissuspetal @valeriedelevingne @harrys-humble-housewife @mrs-dasilvasantoss @yoonki-bored @maybankslover @blazebreaker @thepopcultureaddict @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @imawhoreforu @jj-pls-give-me-a-chance @summer-may

[heliads]

I would like to request a one-shot where the female reader is a paramedic and Jack from Now You See Me has a crush on her and keeps doing things that result in minor injuries in the hopes that she will be the one to patch him up

i will love now you see me (and dave franco) until the day that i die

masterlist

If you were going to thank the Four Horsemen for anything, you’d owe them a great deal just for getting you out of yet another boring workplace training. Other people across the world can love the magicians for the money they scatter across their performances, or the thrill of getting into one of their exclusive shows, or just to appreciate someone getting one up on the FBI. There are many reasons to be a fan of the Horsemen, and yours has to be the most mundane.

In your defense, you’ve been hideously overworked for what must be years at this point, and at least this is one afternoon you can relax. You knew what you were signing up for when you decided to become a paramedic, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate a bit of down time when it comes to you.

The marvelous performances of the Four Horsemen don’t usually involve a whole lot of injury, but ever since one of the original shows ended with an FBI agent getting tackled by fifteen people under deep hypnosis, it was determined that having a few paramedics around couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Usually, the shows are in lavish places across the planet, but this time, they announced that they’d be putting on a display right in your city.

You were excited when you first heard the news, much like anyone else. Even if all tickets sold out within a few minutes, just the thought that the world famous magicians would be so close to you was thrilling. There could be magic right in front of your nose and you wouldn’t even know it unless they snapped their fingers. Maybe they’d cross your path without you realizing it. Maybe they’d even stay next door to your home.

Your schedule was filled during their performance, so you knew there wasn’t a chance that you’d actually get to see a second of their show. There will always be YouTube videos, someone uploading a grainy video from the nosebleeds of whatever venue hall the Horsemen have decided to occupy, but it wouldn’t be the same as being there in person.

You’d assumed you’d be distracting yourself from thoughts of whatever exquisite show was going on down the street with some lovely mandatory trainings. Unless your squad was called upon for an accident, you’d have to content yourself with lackluster meetings and the like. 

That was the case until you got the call that you’d actually be at the event hall. In a professional capacity, of course, but still, it was closer than you thought possible. The city had decided that it would be a good thing to have a few medical professionals on hand just in case something happened. There had been a handful of faintings and a small stampede at the last show, so you can understand why you and a few of your coworkers were called out here.

Most of you will be staying outside near your ambulance, parked just out of view. One or two paramedics are stationed inside, but you’re all going within the venue now just to get a feel for how the place is set up. Odds are nothing major happens, but it’s still fun to peer around and imagine what might be going on later that day.

The show won’t start for another hour or so, but the Horsemen are still kind enough to greet you and point out the major entrances and exits. You aren’t allowed to look around too closely, of course; half the fun of the magic is that no one knows it, not even the medical staff, but you can guess at the areas they’re keeping from you and what that might entail.

In all honesty, you’re kind of distracted from peering too closely behind various curtains by one of the Horsemen. Although you’ve never been to one of their shows before, that didn’t stop you from picking out a favorite:  Jack Wilder, the cutest, or so you tell your friends between bouts of laughter and over drinks.

And, by all twists of fate, he seems most interested in you. He stutters twice over his one-syllable first name, and tries both to shake your hand and hold it, too. He got distracted when you smiled at him, you think, but that didn’t stop the rest of the Horsemen from shooting each other knowing glances, especially when Jack insisted that you be one of the paramedics to stay inside the venue. Just in case, you know.

The rest of the Horsemen file away to their dressing rooms or wherever they go to practice their tricks one last time, but Jack sticks around a little longer. The other paramedic staying in the venue with you opts to scout out the surrounding hallways, but you take the seat Jack offers you and he sits down too, grinning like he’s the audience and you’re the main attraction.

“Don’t you have to go back with the rest and rehearse your show?” You ask, teasing him lightly.

Jack shakes his head a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m good. Always good. Besides, if I did that, how would I get to know you?”

You laugh. “I suppose that’s a good point. Do you flirt with all of the paramedics you meet at your shows or just me?”

“Only the prettiest ones,” Jack grins, “although you’ve blown any competition out of the water, I can assure you that.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up when he says it, and you look away quickly to regain your composure. “That’s nice of you to say.”

You can still see the ghost of Jack’s smile out of the corner of your eye, blinking in your mind like you’ve stared too long at the sun. “I only speak the truth, of course.”

He looks like he has plenty more to say, but Daniel Atlas appears at the corner of the stage, looking irritable and tapping the watch at his wrist. “We need you, Jack. Quit flirting and help us, will you?”

Jack groans. “Always such a control freak. I hate to leave you alone like this.”

You swat him lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll survive somehow. Go handle Daniel.”

Jack grins again, but he’s still looking disappointed. “Can I talk to you after the show, at least?”

You make a face. “I don’t know. We’ll probably handle any injuries, if there are any, then head back pretty quickly.”

Jack’s brow furrows, thinking something through. “Alright. Okay. That makes sense. I’ll be sorry to miss you, though.”

You smile up at him. “It was nice to meet you, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he says in a rush, standing up quickly when Daniel shouts for him again.

You let yourself sit there for a moment or two longer, giddy over the undivided attention of one of the prettier boys you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, then head back out of the performance hall to go find your other paramedic. They’re a friend of yours, have been for a while, and so they greet you with a raised eyebrow and a question about if you’ve managed to secure a second date with your little magician for later that night.

You roll your eyes, but inside your heart can’t help but do a slow loop in your chest. He’s certainly charming, the Horseman, you only hope that his affections were genuine and not him trying to set up a trick for later that evening.

You’re able to peek through a window to see most of the show, which is as stunning as all the critics claim. You head back to the ambulance once the performance, tending to a few minor injuries like people forgetting insulin or getting their hand stuck in a door on the way out. You’re assuming it’ll be another ordinary day until you look up and see Jack standing in front of you again.

He grimaces at you, embarrassed. “Managed to slice myself open a little during the show. Would you mind patching me up, Doc?”

You reach for some bandages behind you with a grin. “Too cocky with our tricks, were we?”

Jack nods, feigning sadness. “My pride may never recover. Can I get a kiss while you’re here? You know, to help with the healing process?”

You arch a brow. “I don’t think that kissing an open wound would be all that sanitary. I can’t recommend it.”

“What about here instead?” Jack asks, tapping his cheek. 

You laugh at the hopeful expression on his face, then, in a rush of adrenaline you expect just as little as Jack, lean forward and do as told. The look in his eyes could trick any girl into falling for him, and if you hadn’t already had an inkling of feelings for him, perhaps you have a little more now than before.

He’s pulled away soon enough, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget that day. It’s certainly a memory you’ll treasure for a while. All’s well that ends well, though, and you’re in the ambulance driving back soon enough, staring out at the road zipping by you like you’ll be able to sight him again if you just look hard enough, just want him enough.

You don’t know how long the Horsemen will be staying in town, if they haven’t already left, yet one week later, the news starts blaring headlines about how the magicians’ next show will be here again. Here, in your city. In your reach. It seems impossible– they don’t repeat locations without a good reason, but yet so it is.

You insist a little quickly on being a part of the paramedic team to cover the new venue, even though the times don’t quite line up on your schedule. A few days’ time finds you waiting by the ambulance after the second show of the by now very famous Horsemen, looking around with too much foolish hope. 

You’re about to give up on the idea that you’d ever see Jack again– who were you kidding, after all, thinking that he’d be interested in you more than a passing crush on a pretty face– and then there he is, heading quickly down the stairs, walking directly towards you.

He holds up his hand, and you can make out a small dash of blood before he’s excitedly telling you about how he managed to cut himself again, can you believe that, and how are you anyway? Jack didn’t see you in the venue, only two other paramedics, and he was starting to think that you weren’t coming until he looked out and saw you.

You listen to his delighted wave of words, then speak once you’re able to. “This is a pretty small wound, Wilder. I’m assuming you would be able to patch it up by yourself.”

Jack’s face falls. “Shoot, you’re right. Wait, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You laugh when he turns to run, grabbing his hand so he can’t leave. “Are you going to go back inside so you can make a worse wound? That’s absurd, you know that.”

Jack’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, caught in the act. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. No magician would ever fake an injury.”

“Not even to talk to a paramedic they like?” You ask, the picture of innocence.

Jack chuckles. “Well, maybe in those circumstances. I feel like it’s understandable, though. I don’t want to distract you from your work, you know, but I do want to see you. A lot, actually.”

You haven’t let go of his hand yet, you realize, but you find that you don’t really want to. “Alright,” you tell him, “How about something else? I’m free for dinner tomorrow night if that works with you.”

Jack’s eyes light up, fireworks in rowan wood. “That’s perfect, actually. I’d love that.”

Someone appears behind him– Henley, fresh from their show. “Are you two finally going out? Good, he insisted on switching the location of our second performance to be here again because he couldn’t ask the first time.”

Jack turns around, expression dawning with horror. “You said you weren’t going to do something like this. You said.”

Henley just grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m just glad you moved the second show,” you smile, “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to talk again.”

“We’re going to talk a lot,” Jack promises, “I just need Henley to apologize for interrupting.”

“Not a chance,” she says gleefully, much to Jack’s dismay.

They’ve been lingering for a while now, so you’re not surprised when Henley starts to head away again. Jack looks between her and you again, knowing that it’s time to go.

“Text me,” he pleads, “we’ll set this up, alright?”

You watch him go, and it takes a few minutes before you realize that you don’t have Jack’s number. When you reach in your pocket for your phone, though, you notice a playing card stuck to the back of the case. It’s the Queen of Hearts, and there’s a number scrawled hastily on the surface. 

You laugh to yourself. Falling in love with a Horseman certainly won’t be boring, but who would want that? You have Jack. The best trick was winning him, and you’ve come up with the best hand. Nothing could make you happier.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: empty for now!

[muffin-artz3]

I know it's been a little while since the Trigun Stampede hype has ended but, I can't get this main criticism out of my head after reading the manga--- I wish that they had made hints about Vash's willpower to restrain his anger.

In Stampede, he has the meek pacifist down, but he is mostly led by guilt. He doesn't hurt people because he thinks the planets' issues are all his fault and wants some form of punishment. In a way, it's self-inflicted flogging, which is what Knives says in the last few episodes of season 1.

In Maximum, he has guilt, but he also has a temper and often says that he does have thoughts of wanting to kill his enemies. But every single time, he still doesn't kill the object of his anger.

I think Maximums version of Vash pacifism is so much more meaningful. It's not self pity, it pure determination.

In Max, he actually feels like something that isn't human, and he is so scary if you really think about it from the normal human perspective. He is an other worldly angel/eldritch creature and he WILLINGLY chooses not to hurt people---when he has good reason too--- and instead offers kindness and second chances.

Since Stampde is supposed to be following Maximum closer than the 98 anime, I was hoping that they would still show that side of him. Who knows, maybe they will touch on it in the second season.

[faulty-writes]

Oh oh I’ve got one! Vash Stampede flirting/dating a shy reader headcannons ♥️ please and thank you (sorry had to resend bc I was afraid my asks wasn’t sent)

It's cool dear anon. I'm so excited, my very first Trigun Stampede request! Please let me know how I did, I adore Stampede Vash but I absolutely love the Vash from the 1998 TV series. Not to say the Vash from Stampede isn't loveable, he's downright adorable. But I don't know, right now I'm a sucker for 98' Vash. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this request and please don't hesitate to request more if you happen to like it <3

"Come on needle noggin!" Wolfwood snapped after punching Vash in the head. "Just go over there and say hello! It's not like your dumbass hasn't talked to worse. You've stared at them enough to make a point!" While Vash didn't necessarily agree with Wolfwood, it was true that he had fixated on you recently.

"H-hi there!" were the first words he had spoken to you after casually walking up to the counter of the saloon you worked in. You remember how bright and friendly his smile was but how you stepped back out of instinct. "Oh, shy, right? S-sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you! Heh, heh," he awkwardly waddled back to his seat knowing the last thing he needed to cause was trouble for you.

His second attempt started with "Hi there, heh…just thought I'd try to talk to you again." He chuckled as he laid his hands on the counter. "I heard your name is Y/n," he smiled sheepishly, "what a pretty name." Maybe all you needed was a compliment to make you smile, he'd sure love to see that.

"I don't know, I mean they seem pretty shy. I wouldn't want to push them out of their comfort zone, you know? That's kind of not nice," he said, politely turning down Wolfwood's idea to ask you out. "Pff, suit yourself," he mumbled in reply, "but wait too long and someone else is going to snatch them up and you won't like that."

"Hey…it's me again," he said on a quiet night when the saloon was empty of customers. "Sorry if I've been bothering you lately, I know you're kind of shy but…" he chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "I'd be interested in…well t-talking to you, heh. I'm willing to listen to anything you'd like to talk about!" Everyone deserved that, right? And since you were busy dealing with customers all day, he was sure you had a lot to say.

You didn't realize his flirting attempts were flirting attempts at all because well, they didn't exactly make sense. "You know…I really admire the way you fill the glasses up," he chuckled. "You're always so careful to make sure the foam doesn't spill over the top," he smiled at you, hoping you'd say something in return, but you just thought his words were as strange as he was.

After a while, you grew accustomed to his warm smile and gentle voice so much that you looked forward to his visits. You also started to get to know his friends, who seemed a bit on edge but friendly. Vash noticed this slight increase in confidence and couldn't be happier for you.

His idea of asking you out was to suggest something quiet to do together to make you feel safe and comfortable. Of course, you never imagined it would end with the two of you staring at the five moons that hovered in the sky.

It surprised you that Vash always leaned close when you spoke and maintained eye contact. Of course, you weren't used to having someone's full attention. But it was still comforting to know that he was always interested in what you were doing or saying.

"Oh, heh sorry! I d-didn't mean to, really um..." The first time the two of you had fallen asleep together, you woke up to Vash's arms securely wrapped around you as if he were afraid that you'd get up and leave in the middle of the night. Of course, after hearing a few things about his past it was understandable why he felt so scared to lose you.

"Sorry…I guess I couldn't help myself, heh…" His face was completely flustered after he kissed you, as was yours. "I…understand if you don't feel the same way, not many people would want to be with…Vash the Stampede. Heh, the Humanoid Typhoon." He nervously chuckled before asking, "S-so…how do you feel?"

"What?!" Meryl snapped, grabbing your shoulders. "I'm happy for you but are you sure this is what you really want?" she asked. "Why don't you let them make their own mistakes, little miss?" Wolfwood said, stepping between you two. "If they want to date needle noggin, then that's on them…" Although he knew that if Vash messed up, he'd receive a beating.

"Ta-da!" Vash exclaimed as he uncovered your eyes to reveal the ruined city of July leaving you in shock. Why would he insist the two of you come here? "I know it's a little weird, but I thought I'd bring you here for our date because..." he reached over to hold your hand. "I think it's about time this place had good memories again."

He always stuck to his belief in protecting something more than anything else in this world: you. This meant he'd step in front of you whenever suspicious characters were around, or people looked at you the wrong way. Blocking their view of you and being ready for action if the situation escalated was something he was all too willing to do.

[animebw]

I’m gonna be honest, I thought going into Winter 2023 that this was gonna be a bit of a dump season. One of those seasons where anime just kinda sits around farting and we all wait patiently for the actual Good Shit to start coming out again while pretending to catch up on our backlogs.

That... has not been the case.

Bofuri Season 2: Seriously, how does this show get so many incredible action cuts?

Buddy Daddies: Look, it’s probably not gonna be gay, but Spy x Family meets Tiger and Bunny is something we all need in our lives, okay?

Campfire Cooking in Another World: Couldn’t even last a full episode of this one before my eyes glazed over. Dropped.

Endo and Kobayashi Live: Now this is pretty charming! Pity the animation’s such garbage, though.

Giant Beasts of Ars: It’s a damn good season for fantasy anime, y’all.

Handyman Saitou in Another World: Could actually end up a halfway decent isekai SOL if it stops being so goddamn terrible at structure.

High Card: This is exactly my brand of Anime Bullshit(tm) and I am so on board.

Ippon Again: An actually great female-led sports anime? With major A Place Further Than the Universe vibes? Do not sleep on this one, y’all.

Kaina of the Great Snow Sea: Damn. Good. Season. For. Fantasy. Anime.

Kubo Won’t Let Me Be Invisible: As far as Takagi-san knock-offs go, this one is pleasant enough.

The Magical Revolution of the Oh Fuck It These LN Titles are Impossible to Remember Just Call it “MagiRevo”: Buckle up, folks, we might just have another Actually Good Isekai on our hands.

Malevolent Spirits Mononogatari: It’s Noragami but shit. Dropped at 1 episode.

Nagatoro-san Season 2: Yeah, turns out I’m still not above the occasional well made trash.

Nier Automata: Genuine question, is this gonna be an acceptable substitute for the game or will I just be spoiling the experience for myself?

Onimai: I fucking hate the Mushoku Tensei studio so much and I hate myself even more for deciding to stick with this one.

Reborn to Master the Blade: This one might be soon for the chopping block, but I’m holding out hope that its story can overcome its middling production values. We’ll have to wait and see.

Revenger: GEN UROBUCHI’S BACK BABY YEEEEEEHAW

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale: Take notes, Every Isekai: this is how you explore slavery in a fantasy setting.

The Tale of Outcasts: Feels like a 13-year-old’sedgy  Ancient Magus Bride fanfiction. Honestly, though? I kind of really dig it.

Tomo-Chan is a Girl: LET. TOMBOYS. BE. TOMBOYS. WITHOUT. SHAMING. THEM. FOR. IT. Dropped at episode 2.

Tokyo Revengers Season 2: At this point, I’m just watching out of morbid curiosity of how bad the manga’s ending supposedly was.

Trails of Cold Steel: The Northern War: Easily the weakest fantasy anime of the lot. Giving it one more episode to impress me, otherwise it gets the drop.

Trigun Stampede: Y’all are buggin, the CG here is incredible.

Tsurune Season 2: Good god, the glow-up from season one is nuts. KyoAni just does not miss.

Vinland Saga Season 2: Okay, manga readers, let’s see if watching a bunch of sad men farm is as incredible as you say.

[uollop]

Okay so that Eriks fic of the reader’s daughter clutching onto him wailing and crying and the reader not recognizing him has my heart is pieces. I’m here to humbly get on my knees and beg for a continuation of some kind. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

(SPOILERS) Where?

Content: SPOILERS for Trigun 98 & Stampede, Fem! Reader, angst with a good ending

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: Ask and you shall recieve! I had two anons ask for a happy ending so I will oblige! Hope you enjoy!

Previous Part

Eriks wasn't stupid by any means. When he saw that little girl running towards him on that day in the market, he knew who she was immediately. He could never forget that child's smile, and it helped that she happened to be holding a toy that he had bought for her a long time ago.

When she latched onto his leg, crying, calling him "daddy", he felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. He had never wanted to leave her behind. To leave you behind. When he realized what he had done to Knives, though, he was terrified that something similar would happen to you and Iris. So he left, making sure his coat was in a place where you could find it. He knew it wasn't a proper goodbye, but he figured that it was better than nothing.

As Iris cried and held onto his leg, he realized you weren't with her. He nervously began to attempt to gently pull his daughter off of him. He wasn't sure where you were, but he wasn't sure if he could keep his composure- or his secret identity- if he saw you.

"Iris!" He heard your voice in the distance. God, how he wanted to relish in the sound of your voice for a moment, but he knew how much you cared for this girl and, with how loud she was being as she called for him, he was certain you'd find your way to the two of them soon.

"Daddy!"

"Iris... Let go, please." He whispered as the child looked up at him and shook her head, hugging his leg tighter, "I found you! Mommy will be so happy-"

"Iris! Leave that poor man alone..!" There it is again, that voice of yours, but much closer this time. Eriks' breath hitches, his head immediately lowering so that he didn't have to look at you. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing your face right now as tears already began to fill his eyes at the sound of his daughter's sobs.

He felt you pull Iris away. A lonely feeling washed over him as he felt his daughter's hands leave his leg. "Mommy, let me go!" The child screamed as you pulled her away. With every cry, he felt his guilt worsen. Maybe it had been the wrong idea to leave the two of you behind.

He was about to turn to leave, finding it would be a good idea to get out of here before he gave into her cries, when he hears footsteps coming towards him. Iris quickly clutched onto the front of his shirt and began to cry again, "I missed you! We both missed you! When are you coming home?"

Eriks could feel his heart shatter at her words. The urge to wrap his arms around her and hug her, tell her that he's sorry, tell her that he wanted to come home was so strong. He stares at the girl for a moment before he sees your hand begin to reach for her again.

"I'm sorry, sir... She lost her father. It's been-"

"It's okay," he cut you off quickly, slowly embracing Iris, "losing a loved one is... hard." Being able to hold his daughter was one of the things he had missed the most while he was off parading around with a new identity. Another thing he missed, though, was you. He slowly brought his eyes up to look into yours, his heart sinking a bit when he finally sees you.

You looked so tired. Dark bags had sunken into the area under your eyes, but he couldn't help but admire how you looked. He loved you so much, and looking at you right now made his repressed emotions sing with a need to comfort you.

When you look into his eyes, the face you make has him thinking for a moment that you saw through his new identity. That you knew it was him. A part of him desperately wished for you to call his real name, but you stayed silent.

"I'm sorry you lost your father," Eriks continues as he rubs his daughter's back, "I'm sure he... I'm sure he cared a lot about you," he looks back up at you again, trying to hide the strain in his voice "about both of you."

He heard a soft 'thank you' escape your lips as you reached forward, taking Iris by the hand and pulling her away again. Erik's guilt worsened as Iris began to scream and cry again. He quickly turned and began to walk away. He had to, before he did something stupid.

That night, he was restless. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with ideas of what to do. He had made up his mind about halfway through his walk to his current residence. He was going to come back home. He just had to figure out how to go about it. Should he do something grand or something subtle? Something lighthearted or something serious?

Would you be upset? You should be. He wouldn't blame you if you were. He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a necklace that sat around his neck, his wedding band resting on the string. It was one of the only mementos of his past that he allowed himself to keep.

As he stared at the ring, his desperation to see you grew. He was going to go to see you. Now. He had already told Lina and her grandmother before they went to bed that he was going to be leaving. The two of them had helped him freshen up. A quick shave and a haircut and he was already starting to look like his old self again. It felt weird seeing himself look like Vash again instead of Eriks.

He quickly gathered what little belongings he had and made his way out of the house. He knew the way to your home by heart. It was a small place that you two had built together. He knew exactly where it was.

It took about an hour for him to arrive. It was well into the night by now. Would you be asleep?

He stood in front of the door for a moment, contemplating whether or not this was a good idea. He glanced through the window, seeing that there were still two seats at the table. Now, though, instead of the highchair that he remembered, there was a third chair with a booster seat.

He had missed two years of his daughter growing up. He had missed her first steps. He had missed her second and third birthday. He looked through the window for a moment longer before the lights suddenly flickered on. He sees you shuffle into the kitchen, your form enveloped in something. Was that his coat? He watches as you glance at the table, before you move past it and grab a glass to fill with water. He watches you move quietly. He hadn't seen you in so long, anything that you could do right now he would still find beautiful.

You turn and walk towards the table, sitting down and placing the glass on the wood before hugging the jacket closer to yourself.

He couldn't wait anymore. Seeing you hug the jacket like that when he was right here made him even more desperate to embrace you. He moved back to the door, rapping his knuckles against the oak quickly. It takes a moment before the door opens, your tired form appearing in the frame as you rub your eyes.

"What the hell do you want-" You cut yourself off as you look into familiar eyes. You examined him for a moment before your brows furrow. "Ugh, I'm dreaming again," You groan as you attempt to close the door. Vash quickly grabs the door before you can shut it fully, pulling it open again as you blink in surprise, looking at him again. He didn't know what he should say, so he just gave you a soft smile. He hoped that was enough.

At the sight of his smile, your heart skips a beat. You let go of the door and reach up to cup his face, your hands resting on either one of his cheeks as you stare at him.

"Vash...?" You ask carefully. He nods his head slowly, moving his hand up to yours, rubbing his thumb against you knuckles. You blink again before tears start to well up in your eyes.

"Is... Is it really you? I'm not dreaming?" You asked as you pulled his face closer to you, fingers tracing the mole under his eye. He simply continues to look at you as his own eyes begin to wet. He nods his head again and you let out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

"Say something, please! I need... I need you to tell me that this is real."

He looks at you for another beat before he leans into you hand on his cheek, "I'm here, my love. I'm home."

Another strangled laugh-sob leaves your mouth as you pull him into a tight hug. You buried your head into his shoulder as you cried, holding him as if you were worried he would leave again. You stayed like that for a while, holding him and sobbing as he stroked your hair and shushed you. You pulled away from the hug after you were sure that this was real and that he wasn't going anywhere. You cupped his face again, pulling him into a kiss full of two years of love that he had missed.

You two spent all night like that, kissing and hugging and crying. Two years without each other was far too long.

In the morning, you have Vash gently wake up Iris. When her eyes opened and she saw her father, she let out a squeal of delight, leaping out of her bed and wrapping her arms around him. Similarly to you, it seemed she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry as tears flowed down her cheeks despite her giggling. Vash smiled as he was finally able to give his daughter a proper hug, holding her tightly against him as he started to tear up a bit.

It felt good to have a full family again.

Masterlist | Ao3

Previous Part

[dragonofeternal]

Hot take/unpopular opinion time?

While I understand the urge to give Legato something nice by having him be rescued by Vash instead of Knives and think there's some very cute art and thoughts out there...

That would not fix him and it would not make him happy.

Knives's "salvation" for Legato wasn't just an end to Legato's present suffering, it was the fact that he completed the work Legato could not, even left a sliver of life enough for Legato to take some vengeance of his own. He would NOT be content or happy just to be taken away from his suffering in a nonviolent way. Vash would saunter in, shoot to disable the people actively raping Legato, and whisk Legato away, forcing him to watch those bastards as they pick themselves up to keep living their lives. Their survival would needle at the back of his brain, bristle any time he saw something that reminded him of that time in his life.

And for all that I love Vash the Stampede, I don't think he could give Legato the kind of help he needed to survive and thrive again. Vash is kind of like a wildlife rehabilitator- he takes people out of crisis situations, helps the to soothe the hurt, but he doesn't try to get attached and he tends to quietly slip out once he feels like they've reached a space where they're stable and the danger is gone.

Vash doesn't give people answers, he asks people to look within and find them for themselves.

Except Legato had reached a point where he felt he *had* nothing left within. We see his eyes go dull, watch all hope leave them. And when he and Vash fight at the end of TriMax, we see Legato recognize that dull flatness in Vash's eyes too.

Vash cannot give Legato something he doesn't have.

Knives, on the other hand is FULL of GLORIOUS PURPOSE. Is it good purpose? Is it smart purpose? Is he doing anything other than flailing around like a muppet made of sharp objects and fear and anger most days? No! But it's a purpose and it MATTERS.

And it's a purpose he can share with Legato, who needs something to believe in, something to fill himself with again because he feels so fucking empty. With Knives, there's a ready answer for the yawning emptiness in Legato's soul.

I'm not sitting here going "becoming the number one Kool-aide drinker in the Cult of Knives was a good life choice for Legato Bluesummers" or anything like that, but I WILL say it's a choice that gave him the ability to keep going. It's a choice that makes him Legato Bluesummers and not someone else.

Because my other concern with Vash's attempts to impress morality on Legato is what I said at the very top: Legato is never going to forget or forgive the people who wronged him. He's not going to let go of wanting to kill and destroy and hurt. There is a trolley problem of one thousand three hundred and one lives versus Legato's singular personhood, and if he is monstrous to want vengeance, if he cannot be allowed to take vengeance, then the only answer is to flip the track from his persecutors to himself. It's a rather simple solution, when you don't feel like there's a reason to be alive.

(all manga caps are taken from @trigun-manga-overhaul)

[thebellearchives]

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

~ Vash the Stampede ; Trigun Stampede

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : the secret feelings between you and vash shine through when you dance together in your shared hotel room

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : vash x gn!reader, fluff

‧₊˚ a / n : i’ve had this idea in the back of my head for a while!! this was inspired by “in the night” by fly by midnight ~

You walked in the room curiously, eyeing the golden decor that complimented the cream color of the walls. You and your friends had managed to get rooms in a pretty fancy inn. Since it was a nice place it seemed like it was usually fully booked, and even though you did get a couple of rooms you still ended up having to share. After a heated game of rock paper scissors, Meryl won a room all for herself, Wolfwood had to share with Roberto and you were sharing with Vash.

The room was spacious, with a big comfortable looking bed, a big bathroom and a small kitchen. Vash closed the door when your eyes spotted a radio, neatly placed over a round dining table. You picked it up, searching for the on/off switch.

“What is it?” Vash curiously walked up behind you.

“Just a radio” turning it on, you changed stations for a while until a familiar melody filled the room “hey! I haven’t heard this song in a long time”

“Oh I know this song” Vash smiled and moved his head from left to right on beat, making you giggle.

You turned up the volume and placed the radio back in the table, singing along and joining Vash in a stupid little dance. Vash laughed and grabbed both of your hands, lifting them up and dancing with you. Soon your steps steered away from the table, and you found yourselves swaying all around the room. The blond sang along too, voices following the lyrics’ rhythm and only getting interrupted by laughter. He lifted one of your arms to twirl you around, the sound of his laugh filling the room. A wide smile appeared on your lips, and your eyes lingered on his face. The sound of his happiness was so pretty, and it was just as musical as the song coming from the radio. You hung your arms from his shoulders, completely mesmerized by his bliss, he wrapped his arms around your waist in the middle of innocent chuckles. The pulse on your veins quickened almost immediately, and the tempo of your heartbeat was suddenly faster than the melody leaving your lips. He made you feel like you were under a spell, he had you so captivated that for a moment you moved your hand without permission from your brain. You brushed his blond hair away from his pretty eyes and rested your palm on his cheek with adoration, your heart swelled in tenderness watching that sweet smile of his on his lips, the long lashes that adorned his blue orbs, and the soft and warm feeling of his clear skin on your fingertips. Sometimes you weren’t even sure if he was real, how could someone so infinitely kind and caring even exist? The way that Vash’s blue eyes widened snapped you out of your daydream, a blush spread through his cheeks. You didn’t move an inch, but you stared back into his eyes, scared that maybe you had crossed the boundaries of your friendship, that maybe he’d awkwardly push you away. But he didn’t, instead you felt his arms tighten a little around you. Vash’s gaze softened, leaning towards you just a little. You noticed he was breathing nervously through his mouth, his lashes moved downwards as he watched your lips. Lifting your chin up closer to him, your fingertips grazed the fuzzy sides of his undercut and then curled around his blond strands, heart drumming hopeful in your ears. You closed your eyes slowly, and next thing you felt were his soft lips kissing yours sweetly. You kissed back longingly, a relieved sigh escaping from your lungs. Cold metal fingertips traced your back soothingly, a sweet burning sensation of crave in your chest pumping your blood towards your face and flushing it with a tint of red similar to the color of his coat. Kissing Vash felt like finding water after months in the desert, and when he stopped and inhaled sharply your lips chased after his, wishing to indulge in his kiss once more.

“Vash…” his name fell from your mouth in a yearning whisper, and he complied to you almost immediately.

Vash held your chin before placing another kiss on your lips and his thumb caressed your cheek. Your shaky hands led your arms to hang from his neck as you forgot about everything around you, his name and his touch being the only thoughts in your head. When the kiss stopped you remained still with your eyes closed, feeling his warm breath tingle over your mouth before he smiled gently. With a sigh, Vash rested his forehead on yours and nuzzled against your nose, making you giggle. Vash chuckled too, and at last you noticed that the song you had been dancing to had finished a while ago.

[lawbin-archive]

The lawbin hate...

Just want to share my thoughts on the hate...

First of all, I think posting Lawbin it's just my kind of fun and relax. Especially, you're dealing with your real life in the day, you just want to do something you're interested at night. So I like to write different analysis of Lawbin, even though not a lot of people care, I still want to share what I'm interested and hope more people will find their charms. I do encountered a few people that say something on the qrt when I post about lawbin, and saw a lot of rude comments on the twt tag.

Even until now, I still don't understand the hate...people just keep saying the same thing - "they are boring" "just standing together" "no chemistry" "they barely interact" so?? do you need to hate them just for these reasons?? if you show evidence they interact, they will just say "they just talk..." umm like huh so talking isn't interact? of course it's a subjective opinion. It's ok to share yours too. But I saw one tweet was like "need to abolish all the ships except frobin" like seriously? I never can imagine a one piece fan reading a manga about freedom and still saying "I need to cancel all the opinion that's against mine" did those people really read one piece? and I can say there's quite a lot of people agree with these kind of "celestial dragon" opinion.

As a lawbin shipper, of course seeing these kind of comments will make me upset or some people will even avoid talking lawbin and follow along with the "popular" opinion. Just remember that not all the one piece fans are like that, I can say at least 50% of them are not on twitter lol If I browse around the internet, of course lawbin aren't the most popular but there are quite amount of people support them. They have enough fans in japan to have their princess hug moment in stampede. and lawbin won the polls, I remember twice too!! so ignore the hate! like what you like! you're not alone!! >< And I wouldn't argue with those people, coz what's the point arguing with "celestial dragon".

And I don't hate frobin, I hate people using frobin to bully other ships. It's just that alone made me lost of all interests. And I think some of them use frobin as a shield to distance Robin with Law or vice versa because they ship Law/Robin with others. Childish af. Just my opinion though.

And if they react that aggressively, it means Lawbin is a threat to them. if they really think Lawbin is not possible, they won't even complain at the first place lol To me, all the hate is just a proof that Lawbin is possible ;)

At the end, I really hope people can respect each other opinion and not ruin our fun. Although it's not really gonna happen, try to enjoy and have fun!! I am glad more people posting about lawbin too! >< I wish we could see them interact again soon!!

[watcher-servant]

Rusted Arc dialouge lines

This took way longer than it should've, but I did it.

Side note: His 3rd Ascension is a reference to Ragna from Ragna Crimson & Guider to the eternal edge from Granblue fantasy. He is a 3 star servant coming from an event.

Also, the Witch of the Holy Night Collab is coming out for FGO, and Aoko and Soujuurou look amazing. It also applies to Alice as well, but Alice and Aoko take the cake on NPs for the event.

Summoning (pre event): Greerings, I am the rusted knight, guardian of the Ever after. What's that, a fairytale, I see so you have servants connected to stories. Well then master, what story are you trying to tell?

Summoning (post event): Well, didn't think I see you again. Glad to see you again, Master of Chaldea. Since you helped me, it makes sense I do so in return. So master what will you have this freelance knight do?

Level up 1: Oh, I felt a change, it's almost like some chains have been lifted.

Level up 2: Mastery is a journey that almost never ends. I wonder what step is this?

Level up 3: Seems I reached a new step in my journey. Don't worry I'll always be of help when you need me.

1st Ascension: This form, never thought I see this face again. I guess proper introductions are in order. My original name is Jaune Arc. Though at this point it may not mean much to anyone.

2nd ascension: Hmm no changes huh? Well that's fine, though I didn't expect to return to my 19 year old self. Though it is nice Juniper recognize me instantly.

3rd Ascension: This...what is this apperance? These scars, my hair, and yet the strangest thing is, I feel so close to my aura. I think I reached a new understanding.

4th ascension: So, this is my limit as a Pretender. It's not bad, for a time I only accepted the role as the Rusted Knight just so I can survive. Though now, I owe a lot to the original guardian, if it wasn't for them. I shudder who or what I could've become.

Battle start 1: Despite the apperance, I'm tougher than you think?

Battle start 2: Now then what plan, would work on them?

Battle start 3: Which would you prefer, sword, fist, kick or a headbutt from a stampeding animal?

Battle start 4: Let's see what I can create?

Skill 1: *drinks from a cup* Thank you *hands it to a genial gem*

Skill 2: Think you can get past my shield?

Skill 3: Focus...*Quick burst of aura*

Skill 4: Gotta remember the basics.

Attack select 1: Got it

Attack select 2: Understood

Attack select: Grit your teeth

Noble phantasm select 1: As my decree of the rusted knight

Noble phantasm select 2: So shall we hear a quick tale?

Noble phantasm select 3: Looks like we reached a crucial point.

Noble phantasm select 4: A new chapter is about to begin

Extra attack 1: Go Juniper!

Extra attack 2: Get ready to fly

Extra attack 3: I'll mow you down

Extra attack 4: Now fall!

Noble phantasm 1: After all the leasons she learned, and the friends she made and lost. Who has she become? The leaves in the tress rustle on the wind. There was one question. Who are you? [Ever After]!

Noble Phantasm 2: I hope your next journey is more kind to you. [Ever After]

Noble phantasm 3: Everyone one is in place don't worry I'll patch you right up. [Aura Amp]

Noble phantasm 4: I got your back just leave the defense to me. [Aura Amp]

Damage from phantasm: I won't fall not yet!

Defeated 1: So...this is where my journey ends

Defeated 2: Finally I can rest...I leave the rest to you.

Battle finish 1: Looks like we made it.

Battle finish 2: *Sigh* that took more than I thought

Battle finish 3: Just like that job is done.

Bond lv 1: Oh is there something you need master. Or did you come to pet Juniper?

Bond lv 2: Despite me bearing this title, there was another knight in the Ever After. The best way to describe them would be...my mentor

Bond lv 3: Won't lie I feel really out of place here. There's so many heroes around...if I was my child self. I know he would ask for a autograph...or to train them.

Bond lv 4: What? Surprised I can play guitar? I'll be honest it's been so long I didn't think I could. Guess the muscle memory remained after so long

Bond lv 5: Didn't think I reached a place Ike this. I won't lie I'm surprised I was actually summoned as a servant. Trust when I say I wasn't anyone worth remembering...though most likely it was my connection to my mentor that I ever reached here. To be honest there's probably more deserving from my world that should be here...yet here I am.

Dialogue 1: Oh hello master, you mind helping me brush Juniper? Trying to get some of this loose fur.

Dialogue 2: The master servant contract. To think you manage to hold so many, I think that speaks volumes to kind of person you are.

Dialogue 3: To think I can use and mold my aura like this. The possibilities I can do...let's try test them out master.

Dialogue 4 (Child servants): Hmm what's that? You wanna ride Juniper, I don't mind and pretty sure she doesn't mind either. You guys gotta take turns though at least 2 at a time.

Dialogue 5 (Jeanne D' Arc): Hmm there's something about her...that just makes me feel odd. It doesn't help she looks like one of my sisters. Plus her name as well...an ancestor maybe. Huh? Oh uh...it's nothing.

Dialouge 6 (Jeanne Alter): Oh its...wait somethings off. Jeanne Alter? Hmm so there are servants with counterparts. Something tells me she's really caring, despite her attitude.

Dialogue 7 (Voyager): Hmm to think I meet the original Voyager servant. So far there's only 2 of us, but I think we found good company in our current classes. Seems even Juniper took a liking to you.

Dialogue 8 (Deck of heroes reference): It's strange, I swear it was my first time fighting along side them. Yet I could feel I can trust them. A lingering trust...can't be right.

Dialogue 9 (Tamamo no Mae): Hmm, Hmm huh oh Tamamo no mae right? No, it's uh, it's nothing. No, wait, what are you? HEY!?! OH ohhhhhh

Dialogue 10 (Oberon): Fairy King Oberon or Vortigern? Either way, you wouldn't be the first liar I've been around. As you're the first pretender I'll give respect, but that doesn't mean I'll fall for your lies. Dealing with a certain cat was more than enough

Dialogue 11 (Hephaestion): Pyr...no sorry about that. You reminded me of a old comrade from long ago. It's nice to meet you Hephaestion...quick question you mind a spar?

Dialogue 12 (Tlaloc): Wait you embody a city? That's pretty cool...though a part of me is worried if the Ever After takes a servant form. No wait...the blacksmith is the closest I can think of.

Dialouge 13 (Alessandro): The grand scam artist. I'm not interested in any of your tricks

Dialouge 14 (Lady Avalon): Hmm..Lady Avalon? It's a pleasure to meet you though and if you don't mind me asking...what is Avalon like?

Dialouge 15 (Mordred): Oh its you Mordred, something you need? A sparring partner...alright then.

Dialogue 16 (Atalanta or Atalanta Alter): Oh Atalanta, I believe it's my day to watch over the kids. Don't worry me and Juniper will watch them.

Dialogue 17 (Diarmuid): Seems that curse of yours is still causing you trouble? If you want I think we can seal it for a moment. Oh it seems that's that needed. I wonder how different you fight with swords

Dialogue 18 (Medusa): Hmm, think Pegasus and Juniper might get along. I think they would and it seems she likes you as well.

Dialogue 19 (Medea): I think I see why you were hesitant with me for a while. Jason is...a bit of work. Though something tells me there's more to him

Dialogue 20 (Emiya assassin): Kiritsugu...it took some time but it looks like you find some light again. Even got a family as well.

Dialogue 21 (Frankenstein): Oh hello Fran, is there something you need. Alright I don't mind you tying my hair...no full bows though.

Dialogue 22 ( Edmond Dantes or Count of MC): It's good to see you again Lord Count. I can tell despite the change of scenery your act of guardian is still strong. If you don't mind, I want to have a chat when you have the time.

Something you like: Hmm good question, beside Juniper being on this list. I do enjoy a nice meal with people and maybe be it around campfire. That is a idea though, a nice camping trip.

Something you hate: The merciless pursuit of power...getting innocent folks involved and hurt in the exploits. Another I can't forgive...is a fallen maiden, who doesn't deserve any mercy.

About the holy grail: If I was younger I would've made a wish with the Grail. Though with my experience now...there's always a cost when using such powers.

During an Event: Sounds like something big is going on. Wanna go see what's that about?

Birthday: Your birthday? Have you already told somebody it's today? Know what, follow me. I think it's time to show how fast Juniper can run.

[peachyloveswriting]

So sorry to ask, but is your requests open for something angsty with a sweet ending? With Vash ofc, I'm even willing to pay ❤️ (I have some ideas and I can share with how I feel if it helps ❤️)

I’m going to tell you two things. 1.) I head canon that Plants can calm someone via touch but it depends on what type. Some can only do it on accident. 2) ignore any typos.

Upholder of the law — Vash the Stampede

Summary: It’s a long story to even tell Vash about your past, yet here it comes to bite you in the ass after you get arrested by the law.

Warning: major angst, death mentions

——

Vash ran to your side, eyes filled with worry and concern. Your whole body ached as you stumbled and looked up at him through blurry eyes. A harsh cough left your lips as he reached your side.

“Oh my god.” He muttered as he put your arm around his shoulder to help you walk. “What did they do to you?” He asked with worry as he began to walk you back towards the town. You groaned quietly, your head throbbing in pain as the pinch in your side grew worse.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.” You croaked. Your voice was rough and dry. You sounded as bad as a smoker.

Vash gave you a desperate, sad look. “Don’t say that.” He whined in a soft voice. “How did you get away?”

You stared at the ground in pain, your thoughts wandering over the days before. You honestly weren’t sure how to tell Vash what happened. It was all just mental torture on the laws behalf. You knew they could be sick but what they did to you was beyond anything you could ever hope on your worse enemy. The thought of your brother passed your mind and you flinched inwardly, tears stinging your eyes.

Vash took your silence as your way of telling him you didn’t want to talk to him about it. He respectively didn’t say anything else and helped you back to his motel room he’d purchased for the week.

As he brought you in, Vash set you down on the stiff bed and carefully laid you on your back. “Sorry.” He mumbled quietly as you groaned in pain. Very quickly he pulled his hands away from you and rushed to find stuff for your wounds.

You quietly stared at the ceiling as he rushed back to your side and started tending to the injuries you had. There wasn’t many but enough to make you tired. All the way your mind only wavered back to your brother. That was the whole reason you ran with Vash in the first place, you killed him on accident. You never meant too, it bothered you but you felt somewhat at peace know it was accidental…but now…

—

A large hand grabs the back of your head and slams your face into the cold metal table, blood splatters from your nose as you call out in pain.

“How does it feel?” Warm breath fanned over your ear as your interrogator leaned in close. His voice was deep, the kind that rumbled his chest when he spoke. “How does it feel knowing that your brothers blood is on your hands, huh?” His fingers grasp your hair and snatch your head up painfully. The blood trickling from your nose tickles as you glare up at him.

“Do you remember the blood on your hands? Do you remember how amazing and warm it felt?” He teased. He snatched your head back further, making your whole body move with it. It scoots the chair beneath you. You clench your jaw. “I didn’t mean too I-“

He slams your face back into the table, you scream in pain as he fully grinds your face into the metal. “The look on his face when you killed him was terrifying wasn’t it? I bet he screamed when it happened…I’ll even bet he hates you for it.” He knows what he’s doing to you, he wants to mentally torture you for this. “I’ll bet he never expected that your face would be the last he ever saw.” His tone is sickeningly sweet.

—

You clench your eyes shut as the memories come flooding back, your eyes burn as your throat and chest squeeze. A loud sob leaves your lips and you raise your hands to cover your face.

“It wasn’t my fault!” You cry out. Vash drops what he’s doing, your name tentatively leaving his lips as he looks up at you.

“What’s wrong?” He leans forward and grabs your wrist to pull it away from your face. “C’mon-“ You snatched yourself from his touch and sat up, pushing yourself away.

“Don’t touch me!” You yell as you pull your knees yo your chest, your breathing uneven and heavy.

Vash flinches as you shout. His hand instinctively pulls away before he lifts himself sit on the edge of the bed with worry and concern swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay.” His voice is soft and reassuring. “I’m not sure what they did to you up there but I can promise you that you’re okay. It’s safe.” He gently extends his hand to you.

You stare at his hand with teary eyes as your lips tremble and your heart pounds in your chest. “No. I don’t deserve your care.” You hiss almost angrily.

His brows raise in surprise and he frowns. “Why would you not-“ you cut him off sharply. “Because I killed my own brother!” You clench your jaw as you watch Vash, gauging his reaction. He stares at you in shock, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Quickly he snaps his mouth shut and his eyes seem to darken.

“That’s no excuse for you to not deserve care. I’m sure whatever happened was for a good reason.” His eyes are still soft as he grabs your hand in his. You try to flinch away but your back is already pressed against the corner as far as if can go and you’re stuck. “That doesn’t change the fact that I killed him!” Your voice cracks.

He brings up both of his legs into the bed so he can slide closer. “That doesn’t change the fact that I want to help you.” He reassures you as he shakes his head. He’s now sitting directly in front of you, his hand still holding yours with a firm squeeze.

“But it was my fault.” Your voice is quieter and shaking as you speak.

Vash still doesn’t back away and he grasps your other hand. Now holding them both close to his chest. “That won’t change my mind.” He offers you a gentle smile. “I know you…you’re not a bad person. In fact, you’re the most amazing person I know and what you’ve done in the past doesn’t hold jurisdiction over what you do and don’t deserve.”

You stifle a sob as you lower your head. Unable to respond. Vash continues. “They tortured you didn’t they?” His voice is suddenly much softer as he asks this.

You nod with a sharp cry as you slump forward. Letting your hands go, Vash pulls you close. His strong arms wrap around you securely. He softly brushes his hand over your head, holding it to his shoulder as you grab at his jacket and cry against him.

“Va-sh.” You choke out his name as you take a deep shuddering breath between sobs to create a coherent sentence. “It was an accident…I never meant to kill him-“ your sharply cut off by your own choked sob. He gently cradles you. “Shh…It’s okay, take your time Mayfly.”

He swears he can feel his heart break hearing you sob like this. It hurts him to hear you so upset and broken. He hates that you have to tell him about these things in a situation like this.

“They…they hurt me. I tried to - to tell them but…” you stifle a sob. “My head. They fucked with it…they made me think about it over and over again like I was some monster.”

Very quickly, Vash shifts and slides a hand underneath your thighs. He slides you into his lap to hold you closer. “I’m so sorry that happened.” He whispers as he rests his head on yours, tucking your head under his chin. “You don’t deserve that.” He protectively holds you to him as you grasp his coat tightly.

“But you should…you should hate me.” You lift your head to look him in the eyes.

He frowns when he sees your face and lifts as hand to gently cup your face. “I won’t hate you. I know it’s what you think you deserve but it’s not.” Gently his thumb strokes the tears from your face.

You close your eyes and shake your head. Your voice is broken and shaking as you speak. “You hate murder, you hate people that kill others-“ he cuts you off by softly moving his hand to hold your head up. “Yes, but I don’t hate you.”

You bite your lip lightly to keep the sobs from slipping past. “Why?” It hurts to hear you sound so small and scared. All he wants to do is hug you tight and tell you that it’s okay but he knows that won’t fix everything.

“Because I love you Mayfly. Nothing you’ve ever done will change that. The past is in the past.” He moves both hands to cup your face now. His hands are warm against your skin and you can somewhat feel your nerves calm at his touch.

Your chest squeezes as his words. Mind reeling and thoughts clouded and everywhere you can’t seem to filter the words he just said to you. The look in your eyes grows distant and so does the pain. He watches this happen, a dull ache in his chest as he watches the look in your eyes grow. With a soft frown he leans forwards and presses a small, soft kiss to your lips. The warmth of his skin so suddenly against yours brings you back to the present. It’s comforting yet so confusing to have this intimate act happen right now.

You can feel cool soothing waves pass through you as he pulls away, a slight glow to his eyes when he opens them. You feel calm somehow, yet exhilarated at the same time. It’s almost as though your mind has fallen quiet.

Suddenly, Vash’s eyes widen and his face flushes deeply. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I-“ You cut him off.

“do that again.” You say it almost firmly. You don’t know what it was about that kiss but it was almost addicting, suddenly pulling your head away from whatever space it had been in just seconds before. Vash looked shocked at this revelation but didn’t hesitate to do it again. He was more passionate this time, softer even. You melted right into it, letting your eyes flutter closed as you kissed him back.

Yet again, that same calming cool wave washed over you and you felt all your worries melt away. It left like your skin where his hands touched you grew cold, but in a good way. When he pulled away you felt breathless, the glow in his eyes brighter than it had been the first time. It almost seemed unnatural, like a trick of the light but no. They were undoubtedly glowing.

“It doesn’t always have to be you, you know? Your shoulders aren’t the only ones that can bear the weight of the world.” His eyes softened again as he spoke. With his voice barely above a whisper he gently hugged you again. “I don expect you to tell me everything that happened but I at least hope you can trust me enough to not bare this burden alone.”

He pulled away to look you in the eyes again. “What the law did to you was horrible, I’m sure. And while revenge is a word that tastes sweet on my lips I know neither of us should play with fire here. I just want you to know that I’m here, I won’t let them get you again okay?”

His hands moved to your shoulders as he waited for your response. You sighed softly, lowering your gaze for only a moment before you nodded. “Thank you.”

A tender smile reaches his lips as he leans forwards and presses a chaste kiss to your head. “Of course, Mayfly.”

[kittycatvlogs24]

Are You Jealous

Paring: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You and Draco are classmates, you both know very little about each other, just a few nods and stares and some chats in class. Other than that, you two don’t really interact unless boredom or you guys get partnered up together. You have sorta developed a small crush on Draco overtime, but you think it is one-sided. Until Draco gets jealous that someone is flirting with you.

Warnings: Kinda angst, jealousy, some fluff and cuteness at the end.

Words: 1,586

A/N: This is my first time writing an actual short fic. I thought of this little OneShot and wanted to write about it. Sorry if it’s not the best. If you have any suggestions of what I could do better on let me know. I really hope you like it, please follow or/and submit a request. Have a good day/night and stay safe! :)

I was in potion’s class , bored out of my mind. Professor Snape was doing his usual lecturing about some boring ingredient for another one of our potion assignments. Somewhere in the middle of his talking, I started zoning out and staring at Draco. Draco had sat a little aways across from me, we were usually partners for most of the classes and talked a little here and there. I kept staring at him, watching as the faint white glow touched his skin and made his hair glow.

“I will be assigning everyone their group partners for this assignment.” Professor Snape spoke. My head perked up as I listened for my name to be called, and a part of me hoped I got partnered with Draco.

Nope. Instead I got paired with the famous Harry Potter, Draco’s rival. He sat down next to me and we started working on the project together. I didn’t know much about Harry, all I knew was that he survived you-know-who and played Quidditch. I had also noticed that he always looked at me and would never stop. I talked to him a few times before and he had always seemed so awkward around me.

Although our interactions were awkward he was quite kind and I returned the kindness, while trying to finish the assignment as soon as possible. I did not want to be stuck as the last person doing this assignment, Snape was tough on everyone and if you were the last person doing an assignment he would deduct points if you weren’t quick enough to finish before the timer.

Thankfully me and Harry finished the assignment before the timer, and it was a success. The only strange thing was how many times Harry brushed his hand against mine. He of course quickly pulled away, but still it was weird that it happened a lot during the assignment. We were waiting on two more groups to finish, Draco was talking to his potions partner who was also one of his friends, Blaise. So I decided to talk to Harry, discussing what class we had after this and the usual homework assignments. It really wasn’t anything special.

That is until out of nowhere Harry asked, “could we hang out over the weekends? If you're not busy then of course.”

I paused as I looked at the boy. “I’m not sure if I am busy or not, but I will let you know.” I gave a polite smile and he responded with a nod. We went back to our normal conversation before the groups had finished.

Class was dismissed and I walked out into the stampede of students trying to get to their next class. I kept walking and entered my next class, which was Charms. I sat down in my usual spot which was at the front on the right. As everyone started getting seated Draco approached me and took a seat next to me as he usually did.

“So what were you and Pottah talking about?” Draco asked, an annoyed tone in his voice.

I smirked. “Nothing much, just classes and homework. He also asked me if I was free to hang out this weekend.” I told him, talking out my parchment and quill.

In the corner of my eye, I saw his eyes roll. “And? What did you say?” Draco asked, getting his parchment and quill.

“Told him that I would think about it and see if I was free.” I said, before adding. “Why jealous?” I asked in a playful tone.

He just chuckled. “No, why would I?” He asked, looking at me. I just shrugged and was about to explain, until Professor Flitwick came into the class and hushed us.

As class started I leaned slightly closer to Draco and whispered, “explain later.” He nodded and we spent all class hearing more lectures and new incantations.

After class, me and Draco walked out to lunch and I explained that it was just a little joke. However, a little part of me wished that he was kind of jealous. To know that he might have at least a small crush on me.

Draco then departed and went over to his friends. I decided to sit by Luna today. she was, although quite odd indeed, she was a wonderful friend and could bring a smile to literally anyone. As me and Luna conversed, Harry and his two other friends Hermione and Ron had come over to sit with us. I smiled at the trio and started including them into the conversation.After lunch, Harry asked to walk me to my next class since we had the same one. I agreed and we continued part of the conversation laughing at the way Ron had defended the subject.

We made it to class and continued talking and laughing. Draco had chosen to sit with one of his Slytherin friends and I saw him sneaking glances at the two of us. At the end of class, I told Harry that if I was free on the weekend that we could meet up at the Three Broomsticks. He nodded and I started walking to my common room. As I was half way there to my house common room, Draco had appeared almost out of nowhere and walked beside me slightly brushing against my shoulder. “Hey.” I greeted him.

“Hey.” He replied back, giving me a little nod. He looked a little pissed and I felt like I knew exactly what it was about.

“So-”, I was about to speak before Draco interrupted me. “What is going on between you and Pottah?” He asked, annoyed. I stopped and stared at him.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “We are just friends, I literally have only talked to him a few times I barely know him.” I said, defensively. “Are you seriously jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.” He rebutted.

I rolled my eyes and kept walking to my common house dorm, before getting interrupted by Harry. I gave him a confused look as he was waiting outside my common room dorm. He saw me and smiled and started walking towards me.

“Harry what are you…?” I asked, as he approached me.

“I was going to wait till the weekends, but I was wondering- I have a crush on you and-” He stuttered over his words as he admitted his true feelings.

I froze before him and he waited for my response. I cleared my throat and spoke. “Look, you seem like a good guy, but I barely know you and I am also not that interested. I’m quite flattered but my answer has to be no.”

He nodded and apologized. “I understand, sorry.” Before I could speak he rushed off. I sighed and continued into my common room before going into my dorm and flopping on my bed. What a day.

The next day, I started heading down to get breakfast before seeing Draco out in the hall. I froze and we stared at each other for a few seconds. It almost reached a minute of the both of us staring at each till I walked up to him and cleared my throat. “Good morning.” I greeted.

He nodded, “morning.” He was nervously fiddling with one of the silver rings on his finger and avoiding my gaze.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked, studying the nervous fidgeting. “Are you still jealous?” I teased.

“I am not jealous.” He gritted his teeth.

“If you’re not jealous, then why do you care so much that I am hanging out with Harry?.” I crossed my arms and gave him a stern look as I interrogated him. He was definitely jealous but why wouldn’t he admit it?

“I just don’t like him.” He said, still looking at the floor avoiding my gaze.

I kept my arms crossed and looked at him. “If you don’t tell me the actual truth, I am going to go ahead and get breakfast.” I said. A long silence filled the hall as he awkwardly avoided his gaze.”Fine. Guess I’ll go.”

I was about to turn around, but instead he grabbed my arm. He looked up at me and sighed. I saw his lips move but only heard a little mumble come out which was slightly audible. “What was that?” I asked, giving a small smirk.

He rolled his eyes at me before clearing his throat. “Fine, I’m jealous.” He confessed. “I’ve started to grow feelings for you, and I tried to ignore them, but I can’t.”

A light blush started growing on my cheeks as he finally admitted his feelings. I was about to open my mouth and confess my feelings as well, but he started walking away. “Hey!” I yelled after him, grabbing his arm now. “You can’t just admit you have feelings and leave.”

“I can if you don’t feel the same.” He replied. He was about to pull away and go back into his common room, before I spoke.

“But I do have feelings for you.” I admitted softly.

He turned to look at me with a soft gaze. “Really?” He asked. “You aren’t just saying that.”

I nodded. “I really do have feelings for you Draco, I thought they were only one sided.” I kept holding his arm, hoping that this wasn’t a dream.

He looked down at me. “Well you were wrong, because I like you too.” His hand went to my chin and lifted it softly as his soft lips met mine for a gentle yet passionate kiss.

[italoniponic]

Long Live the Brother | Kingscholar brothers

Synopsis: Since Cheka was born, Falena became more aware of the fact that he wouldn’t live forever. Whenever he falls asleep in his most stressful days, he has this strange nightmare about a gorge and a stampede. As years pass by, the dream has gained more details to its story. Cheka is in danger and Leona is close to Falena, but he can’t help him — because he doesn’t want to.

Falena needs to do something about this premonition. As little as it seems to be.

kingscholar brothers / angst with hopeful ending / Lion King references / minor tamashina mina setting / ft. mention of ocs / 4,5k words / Masterlist

Notes: It’s been a while since I last talked about doing this fic but it’s finally here, folks. *sighs in tiredness* well, I asked people to vote for a type of ending so it took me a long time to write it all and come to a conclusion that felt… proper. Like, there’s room for good things to come, certainly. Hope you enjoy it!

Long Live the Brother

Falena knows he won’t live forever. It seems kind of obvious, especially when it comes to Afterglow Savannah’s oldest teaching: “we are part of the cycle of life.” It’s part of the birth-to-death cycle. Helping others in life and giving life to nature itself when one dies. To become grass, to be a spirit in the stars.

Falena thought about this a lot, especially on some extraordinary occasions in his life: the birth of Leona, the strong illness of their father and, even more strongly, on the birth of Cheka.

The kingdom’s people — among servants, guards and subjects — got used to the charismatic image of Falena. To them, the then-young king was brave and imposing, his strong smile shining brighter than the sunlight on the golden savannah. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

But there were things that troubled Falena’s mind many times. Shadows that have haunted him since the crown was placed on his head.

He was so young at the time and the books he had read during his education weren’t enough to guide his journey in the real world, where brilliant theories could fail at the first unpredictable element of nature. His father was also too debilitated to give any advice. Sometimes he barely recognized where he was in his own room.

Falena could only thank Heavens for having Maisha by his side, she being his most precious support all these years.

The couple had ruled together since they got married. They hit and missed all the obstacles in life together. Maisha was the only confidant that Falena could truly let go of his saddest thoughts and worries. She didn’t demand from him any perfection of his royalty. Maisha would let him just talk to her and it was those moments that made him happiest.

That had been their dynamic since they met at a diplomatic ball a long time ago. The then-prince purposely hid himself from Kifaji just to show the stars to the princess who befriended him.

And it was a mutual, strong feeling. Maisha wouldn’t trade Falena for anyone. Her love was true, overcoming any circumstances and problems they encountered along the way. Proof of this was the birth of Cheka. 

It was an unforgettable day. The kingdom celebrated it as if it were the sunrise after a long period of darkness, the rain after a long period of drought. Both of them were so happy with their little cub. Falena thought of Cheka as the light in his difficult life as king. Unfortunately, with the King’s health worsening, Falena found himself again thinking about life and death.

The shadows gained strength and that’s when the nightmares began.

It wasn’t constant dreams. They appeared mainly after a long and stressful day. When everything seemed about to fall apart, when the difficulties of the kingdom weighed on Falena’s shoulders.

It started simply with him lost in a crowd. People were running over each other, everyone was confused and frightened — and he was being slaughtered by all of them, trampled underfoot.

Then it switched to something else. Falena heard Cheka’s screams and desperately ran to save him. Sometimes he managed to get the little boy to a safe place on the rocks. Other times, they didn’t survive. But in either scenario, Falena would lose his life.

No matter what he did or how hard he tried, everything or only his life slipped through his hands. His son’s screams would turn to tears as Falena collapsed into his own unconscious sleep. It was tortuous. He wanted to answer his little one, to say that everything would be fine — but in what voice? With what kind of force?

As time passed, a new character came to his dreams: Leona. 

He almost always stood aside, just watching the scene unfold in front of him. But sometimes it was he who first warned him of the danger that Cheka was in, and with this, Falena ended up finding himself in the midst of that frightened crowd.

Whenever he woke up from these nightmares, Falena usually took a deep breath and tried to comfort himself in the fact that if something happened to him, Leona could take care of Cheka and Maisha in his place. Without a doubt, he would leave the kingdom safely in the hands of his younger brother. 

There was no other person Falena wouldn’t trust with his own life and that of the people he loved most.

Then, at a certain point, that nightmare repeated itself.

Falena had managed to lead Cheka to the rocks, away from the tumultuous crowd where he could be safer. But he himself fell among the stampede again. In a last effort, Falena jumped up and clung to a high rock.

Relief washed over his face when he saw Leona on top of that very stone, safe enough to pull him away from danger.

“Leona...! Brother! Help me!,” Falena pleaded.

But Leona only gave a contemptuous smile in response. With all the calmness in the world, he crouched down and dug his nails into the knuckles of Falena’s hands, making him scream in pain. 

  “Long live the king,” then Leona gave a long and dangerous smile like he had never given before, looking deep into his older brother’s eyes.

Falena felt afraid of the shade of green in Leona’s eyes. Green in the shade of poison, pure burning sulfur. He wasn’t his brother. Leona wasn’t like that! In front of him was just the picture others painted of him.

Falena heard so many times from the servants that this was who his brother was going to become. A corrupt, envious boy who would bring drought and disgrace to the kingdom. It couldn’t be! Leona wasn’t like that. He would never hurt Cheka, nor anyone. 

Or would he? 

Suddenly the pain in his hands had stopped. The distance between them increased. Was Falena falling? Leona no longer held him. He was watching his fall with a dark, victorious look. A scream was heard in the distance. Falena has never heard the word “no” pronounced so painfully before.

He wasn’t sure if it was coming out of his own mouth because the voice he was hearing was from Cheka. But Falena kept falling until he finally hit the ground and thousands of feet passed over him. The pain of being trampled on was nothing compared to his heart being shattered inside.

Falena didn’t want the crown if it meant leaving his son and wife alone. He never wanted to. 

Before he knew it, he had already left his brother once. He didn’t want to leave him again. 

His voice grew faint before the noise of the stampede above him. Both when he was young and when observing his kingdom, it was the only time when the people’s voice surpassed his light. What began with the servants losing patience with the young second prince, turned into real complaints and fear with his magic.

Falena didn’t know what to say to them. His brother was young, that was all. But as Leona seemed to worsen in behavior, Falena lost the basis to defend him. And with the accumulation of royal responsibilities, he lost sense of time.

One day, Leona was already a full-fledged teenager who didn’t have the slightest motivation to do anything. The chess that Falena taught him with great joy became a game that his brother played alone — because he had no one by his side and no one wanted to be near him. Leona acted as if he were a stranger in the palace, a being who didn’t belong there.

But he was part of the cycle, he was a vital member of the family. Falena still held that truth in his heart. At the end of the day, he didn’t have more time to bring him back? Was their bond already broken beyond repair?

What would be left of all this would be for Leona to let him fall over the abyss of death, more than content to see the color of his eyes shine for one last time? 

“Dad!”

Then Falena woke up. He was alive after all. His heart was pounding hard enough to be sure of it. The sun shone brighter than ever through the office window. He should have fallen asleep unintentionally. His rest time has been getting worse lately. Everywhere he went he had a problem to solve, and if he ever stopped to rest, he felt guilty for it.

But there was Cheka holding his arm tightly, jumping endlessly with excitement. His eyes let out sparks of joy. It was almost nostalgic — at one point, in a room full of books, another boy called his brother to take a break from his studies and talk to him a little bit.

“Dad! Uncle Leona arrived with friends!,” the little prince announced happily. “Can Naru and I play with them? Can we?”

Seeing Cheka smiling gave some cheer to Falena’s poor suffering heart, though the mention of his brother couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Go with Monti and Zakki to talk to your uncle. I... I’m going soon.” 

“Okay!”

“Ah! Cheka!”

The boy stopped in his tracks when his father called his name, his orange hair with yellow edges swirling like rays of midday sun. He was the perfect blend of his parents, a gift from Heavens to them. Falena took him in his lap and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, son. Be careful, okay?,” he asked. His voice was a little hoarse.

“I love you too, dad!,” Cheka kissed his father’s cheek. “And don't worry! I’ll be with uncle Leona.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of...”

Maisha entered at the right moment when Cheka ran out of the office. She had overheard part of the conversation. And her worry only worsened when she saw her husband’s forlorn countenance. 

Falena held his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just thought about his own brother. His stomach felt heavy and empty at the same time. He was feeling bad in so many different ways that he didn’t even know where to start. His thoughts collided like an onslaught of hyenas, tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his bones.

“It was that nightmare again?” 

The desolate king felt his wife’s hand massaging his shoulder, conveying comfort and solace. Falena raised his eyes to Maisha, her presence always welcomed on any occasion.

She went around the chair where her husband sat to be closer to him, and he held her waist, resting his head on her belly as he did at the time when she was pregnant with their precious son. His hair of a strong and intense orange cascaded down, confusing itself with the dress of the finest fabric that his queen wore. 

Maisha caressed Falena’s head, patiently waiting for him to find words to express himself.

She never rushed or pressured him. She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Few queens in the world could say that they loved their husband so much that they wouldn’t mind supporting them unconditionally as Maisha had done for a long time.

They never changed, they just got stronger together. Maisha had the same long, naturally slightly grayish-beige hair with strong yellow tips and the kind, wise caramel-colored eyes she had when she was young. The eyes Falena most wanted to face at the moment.

The time that passed wasn’t as long as it felt. For Falena, it seemed like an eternity before he told Maisha every single thing that happened in his nightmare. When the story came to an end, husband and wife stared at each other in deep silence. 

“I failed Leona... terribly,” Falena sighed. “I’d let them say what they wanted of him…”

“Falena, dear. You always defended him the best you could, I know that. Leona... actually, you two are very complicated. All this palace’s life is. What they subjected to a fifteen year old and a five year old boy is unforgivable,” Maisha said.

“But there’s nothing else we can do.”

The woman bit her lip. She understood the feeling well, those shadows that haunted her husband. That’s what she was most afraid of, too. She had known Leona for a long time and, luckily, he came to respect her more than anyone in his life. 

However, respect was still too little to meet him in the desert and drive him back home. Maisha didn’t just want to be Leona’s sister-in-law. She wanted to be his older sister. But he despised his own brother by blood, so what would she — as the family’s outsider — needed to do wrong to fall into the same bad graces?

“What can you offer a man who has everything but wants nothing?,” Maisha suddenly thought out loud. 

And Falena grasped this thought as if it were dry leaves that the wind brought in the afternoon. The royal spiritual adviser, Chinaza, once said that those said leaves were messages from the Kings of the Past — and in reality, the old baboon wasn’t so far from the truth.

With the words of his wife in mind, the king began to think calmly about everything. Over the years, he offered Leona various kinds of gifts. Books, chess boards, expensive items of clothing, dinners with his favorite meats and everything else he had at his disposal to give to his precious brother. It wasn’t just charity. He knew Leona deserved it all.

But it must have looked fake in the young man’s eyes. Deep down — and the nightmare didn’t help this feeling — Leona should despise all these gestures. 

It felt like Falena was patching up the past, as if all they had been through was an old tapestry that just needed extra thread.

“What is the one thing that a man who despises all things, because he feels himself to be despised, most wants?,” Falena asked back as he got up and looked out the window.

They were at the highest point of the palace, from where they could see the whole kingdom and everything that the light could touch. Maisha rested her head on Falena’s shoulder and he leaned on her equally, both with their gaze lost in the horizon.

“I have no idea, my love,” the wife replied.

“I think I know what to do... well, I think” Falena swallowed hard. “It’s not much and I honestly don’t know how much Leona will like or understand it…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our father used to say that diplomatic apologies require more than an emotional and well-crafted text. That’s not what touches people. It’s the process, the small steps you take along the way. If you never cross the desert, you will never come home.”

“Alas, you ramble a lot sometimes,” Maisha said but began to smile as she saw her husband’s face recover its grace. “Will you start with the small steps then?”

Falena took a deep breath, filling himself with courage. He would. 

Better late than never.

If anything, Leona’s patience could be more succinctly described as a worn-out tapestry. 

It had interesting embroidered drawings, making smooth lines on thick thread and had the colors of the sunset. In the old days, it had impressive strength. But he couldn’t say the same in the present though. A lion cub had snatched the edge and began to tear it apart, leaving bristles exposed and easy to fray.

Which settled Jack to be the only one — by their side at the moment — who was actually concerned about the dorm leader wanting to rip apart his own nephew running around him in a fit of pure childish energy. 

Meanwhile, Kalim was distracted by all the beautiful landscapes around them in the huge palace. Naru, the lioness-friend of the little prince, was explaining everything to him — and on certain occasions, she would take a look at her best friend and smile at him having fun. 

But, perhaps, what was doing more harm to Leona’s nerves was the indescribable delight in which Lilia and Vil were watching them near the balcony. They both had different kinds of smiles but seemed equally amused by his look of distress.

Was that Leona’s penance for being himself in the NRC? Or were they joining life’s queue to piss him off?

“Cheka!,” suddenly a powerful voice made its entrance. 

“Dad!” 

Leona had his chair turned away from the entrance, but as he turned around, he was for a very brief moment happy with his brother’s arrival. All to get Cheka away from him, especially. 

He then took a look at the colleagues he brought along and observed their reactions of respect and admiration at the arrival of the king. He wasn’t particularly impressed himself. 

Falena might be the most imposing “Lion King” in all of Afterglow Savannah’s history but Leona would always see him as his annoyingly enthusiastic older brother.

“Dear friends!,” Falena greeted the boys with a smile. “Could you let me steal Leona for a moment?”

This was such a surprise that the second prince turned his head back.

“Oh, we don’t mind, Your Majesty,” Vil spoke for the group, smiling politely.

Leona rolled his eyes. It was like he was being handed over like a pesky stray cat off someone’s backyard. 

Jack was thinking of a form to add any type of positive comments — to at least take that very impression out of the room — but he remained silent as the dorm leader assured him in a simple hand gesture that it wasn’t necessary. 

Falena noticed this as his brother stood up. Every one of them had their own opinions on Leona. Well, mixed opinions it seemed. Personally, he would like to know how his little brother was doing at Night Raven College — but he would have to wait a bit longer to hear about Leona’s school adventures. 

Falena waved a goodbye to Cheka and Naru, leaving them in the hands of their caretakers, the meerkat-man chamberlain Monti and the warthog-man cook — who also acted as the little prince’s personal aide — Zakki, and the remaining boys. 

Then the brothers left the balcony and walked through the halls in complete silence. No one dared disturb their course. Even a falling leaf could be heard in the distance.

After a few minutes of walking beside his brother without facing him, Leona eventually realized that they were walking through more and more empty corridors inside the palace. Places he almost forgot existed. It seemed that they had crossed the entire construction when Falena opened for him a door hidden behind a large dark red wall-tapestry.

Behind the secret passage, there was a large field that was part of the royal estate but remained in the shadow of the towers and higher floors. Further away, Leona recognized a part of the field with a large tree as the marking for the Cemetery of the Kings of the Past. 

“Why did you bring me here?,” he finally spoke to his brother, although he had a confused frown on his brows.

“It's a quiet, peaceful place,” Falena said. “Because it’s the Royal Cemetery, anyone who does not consider here an inhospitable place certainly knows that it is sacred so even servants and guards would never think of looking for a secret passage or opening the door.” 

“So what?” 

“I wish you could find rest here.”

Because Leona had a tremendously surprised expression, Falena added quickly:

“N-no! I’m not talking to you to rest forever here! No way! Please don’t even think...!,” then he took a deep breath to recompose himself. “What I mean, Leona, is that here it will be much easier to hide from the palace than in your room. Cheka is terribly afraid of those hallways, even if he won’t admit it.”

It was Leona’s turn to take a deep breath and facepalm, bewildered by that whole situation. He had not confused Falena’s words — though, come to think of it, it would indeed be a strange thing to say normally — and remained in the dark as to why he was being introduced to that place.

“Are you letting me stay here? Is that it?,” Leona questioned.

“Yes. Consider it my holiday gift.”

“Have you... gone insane? Is the crown so heavy that you hit your head on the floor one of these days?”

Falena bit his tongue, trying not to be discouraged in his convictions, nor to let himself be contaminated by the acidity of his brother’s words.

Leona could be an excellent diplomat when he wanted. Emphasis on “when he wanted”. But what was occurring at the present moment was no disaster of etiquette. It was how Leona usually talked to his older brother. 

Sarcasm and irony were always at their peak. Boredom dictated the harmony of his voice. And, above all, resentment oozed through the thorniest sentences like burning sulfur. 

Falena could feel it more than ever. They weren’t just brothers who couldn’t get along like normal families had. There was a large scar between them, completely exposed and fragile. 

There was no point in pressing mere band-aids there, hoping to disappear with the cut. Something needed to be done to improve the healing process and not allow inflammations. It would be painful and difficult. However, wasting time was no longer on Falena’s mind. If he were going to stop the blood, he should do it now.

It was then Leona felt something different when Falena looked up at him. 

Anyone who might have had the chance to observe them — however deserted the place was — might have seen the reflection of the king’s normally radiant countenance. However, only his young brother was close enough to understand that it wasn’t his usual glow.

“I gave you many gifts and allowed you to do whatever you wanted in a clumsy and vain hope that... “Falena sighed but kept going. “...things could be arranged. But it’s not that simple. In fact, by trying to please you, I was making the situation worse. But Leona...!”

His voice grew stronger, pouring out all its honesty like good rain in the midst of drought and desolation.

“I don’t know what to do, that’s the truth! Maybe I’ll never know. If our father was still well, I could try to take his advice... but all this damage is already done. You walk in and out of here with your head held high but with a terrible feeling in your heart. Like this it’s not even your home.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t know how I feel,” Leona looked away, annoyed.

“Of course I don’t know! You don’t tell me!”

So Leona turned to Falena again, torn between putting the matter aside or contesting it in the adrenaline rush that awoke in his heart. Actually, he wasn’t sure what to answer. And as if Falena could finally after all those years read his little brother’s thoughts, he smiled softly.

“Talk about it when you feel the time has come. It doesn’t even have to be with me, if you don’t want to. For now, a place of silence and comfort is all I can indicate to you.”

“Indicate?”

“Yeah. Because you are still the Prince of the Savannah. You have rights like any of our bloodline,” Falena touched Leona’s shoulder and looked deep into his brother’s green eyes. “You can come here whenever you want. You always could.”

A strong breeze passed by the brothers but they didn’t move even a flinch. Small leaves of various colors, dust and the familiar smell of the savannah continued on its way, as if it were a ghost of one of the Kings of the Past who wanted to spy on the strange scene unfolding there on sacred territory.

Gently, Falena’s hand left Leona and joined his other hand. He wasn’t feeling cowed at least. On the contrary, he was satisfied for the first time with an action he did. His smile didn’t waver.

“Well, if you want to take a break, I’ll let your friends know and…”

“Falena,” Leona called.

He mirrored his older brother’s expression with his words. For a moment, Leona felt like a child again. Not in the sense of feeling small and powerless. But, as it was in the old days. The good times when things were in their place and Falena still had time to afford to teach him to play chess.

“Thanks. Or something like that.”

Leona stared at a distant spot in the landscape, not looking directly into Falena’s eyes. 

He didn’t feel ready yet for that type of situation and had doubts about his brother’s intentions. He never thought he would say that, but hanging out with his classmates and holding his own patience seemed much easier than dealing with the scars of the past.

But something inside him knew that Falena understood what he was doing. It could be a part that Leona hid from his own peripheral vision on purpose, almost always to the point of completely forgetting its existence. Yet it was still there inside him.

“But I’ll have to leave it for another time. I have to lead a pack of warthogs’ backsides to a festival, remember?,” Leona retorted, going back to the exit. “Later. Who knows.”

Falena let out a laugh that made his brother stop for a moment. He looked like he was going to comment on something but then gave up.

“Well, always feel welcome. And I’ll be watching it all from somewhere. Above all: have fun, Leona!”

And then, Falena gave the biggest smile Leona had ever seen before. Perhaps it wasn't just an impression that his aura of majesty was different. It wasn’t like it got any worse, though. 

It was as if an immense weight had left Falena’s shoulders and he rejuvenated like the dawn sun as he reached for his little brother’s step. They continued without saying anything on the way back, following the path in a very rare and comfortable silence. 

It was the first step towards a new ending.

Falena also felt a different energy coming from Leona and his gaze accompanied him throughout the visit, questioning within himself how people couldn’t even see the resplendent light coming from Leona. Or maybe they did — it was his final conclusion — and they didn’t know what to make of it.

But Falena knew. And he felt a deep joy to have a younger brother like Leona. Smart and strategic, able to stand on his own two feet, courageous. Even friendly — although the boy didn’t like to admit it. 

  For the first time in a long time, Falena could have a peaceful night of starry dreams. He never had that nightmare again. He was dreaming of a bright future ahead. Some moment in time when Leona could feel happy doing whatever he wanted. Where Cheka would be a wonderful king and Maisha would still be there by his side.

And Falena would live long to see all this.

Special notes: Uh, I haven’t actually watched anything from the Tamashina Mina event so I don’t even know if they acknowledge Falena’s presence at some point. But this is what I think happened. And I feel particularly relieved about writing this story bc I love Falena due to my memories of Mufasa. I don’t think canon will ever prove me wrong but even so, this is the version of good ol’ Falena that I love the most <3 Thank you for the attention!