#i’m sure i’ve heard worse takes but that’s just one that i actually remember hearing and being like that’s not fucking true what the fuck

[fulgurbugs]

what do you think is the worst octopath take you’ve ever seen

ok i’ve seen a lot on reddit. because sadly i do crosspost there… so i can’t remember everything but one from recent memory that i remember clowning on with my friend is someone on reddit saying that alfyn and tressa wouldn’t like each other. literally why the fuck would they dislike each other they’re actually best friends forever

[rukkiya]

goodbye isn’t for forever

(al haitham x reader, zhongli x reader (separate)

༻ part 2 to take it back༺

al haitham ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It's been two weeks since you’ve left.

The once lively apartment Al Haitham had taken for granted was no more, it was far too quiet for the scholar.

The silence was far too loud. He couldn’t concentrate on his work.

The same work that had led him to push you away.

He’s seen you around of course, he checks up on you and makes sure you’re doing well through mutual friends or passing by shops/places you’d both go together.

He hasn’t slept properly since you’ve left, he doesn’t remember the last time he was alone in bed without you next to him.

He thinks back to the times you’d wake up at night and get him from his study, dragging him to bed because he has to be up at the crack of dawn because you wanted him to sleep, because you cared. Now he’s stays wide awake, not worrying about work or other matters for once, instead he was worried about you.

No one has brought it up to him though, they couldn't.

He thought he was hiding it well, keeping it masked under his unrelenting face but the emotions he felt were being shown through his eyes.

During Al Haithams meeting with Cyno he was stammering, taking one too many pauses because he couldn't concentrate on anything. Cyno merely eyes the two wedding bands linked around a silver chain sitting on top of the scholar's chest but says nothing of it, well that is because he already knows.

“Have you tried talking things out? He looks like shit.” Cyno sits next to you, handing you a bottle of water sighing when he sees the corners of your lips tug down at the mention of Al Haitham.

“I can’t, after what he’s done. What makes you think that he wants me in his life anyways? Look, he was the one who threw his wedding band at me. I didn’t do it, he did.” You lay your head on the table huffing as Cyno sighs again.

He doesn’t like seeing you this way. He’s not the most fond of Al Haitham but seeing him down, with an expression other than a punchable face, it actually makes Cyno feel bad for him. You both being this torn was more on you guys than you expected.

“You miss him, you miss him more than you're letting on. From what I can see he misses you too.” Cyno leans back on his seat, you slightly turn your forehead on the table to glance at him, seeing that knowing look he always wears when he knows he’s right.

“Y/n, for as long as I’ve known Al Haitham I’ve never heard him stumble on his words or look worse than now. You might not accept that because yeah you’re right it is his fault. Everything he’s said and done to you isn’t excusable by a long shot but if he really truly meant it, he wouldn't be beating himself over it this bad.” Cyno explains, putting his hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair making you grumble and turn away.

“I’m scared, we’ve been together for so long, married for just as long and for him to do that I- I can’t just let it go so easily you know? He’s probably held it in for so long and he finally spoke the truth, what if I’ve been a hindrance this whole-“

“Stop.” Cyno clicks his tongue, making his hand into a fist and softly bonking your head.

“You always do that. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Listen, you said it right now didn’t you hear? You’ve been together and married for so long, don't you think he would’ve told you beforehand? If anything you made him more tolerable, he seemed content and happy with you. But right now he seems lost.” Cyno removes his hand from your head and crosses his arms.

“But I did something just as bad Cyno I took mines off too.” You turn your head to face Cyno again, feeling your voice crack just remembering how Al Haitham’s face looked completely horrified when you did that.

“Go home and you’ll see. Go home to him y/n he’ll have it waiting for you I can guarantee.” Cyno smiles at you knowing look in his eyes, he knows Al haitham wants you home just as bad, he’s keeping your ring on him for when you do come back.

Your chest feels heavy, your hands are sweaty as you stare at the familiar wooden door to your shared house with Al Haitham.

It’s only been two weeks, it feels like forever since you've walked out. You didn't even bother getting your things.

You raise your hand and hold it up, contemplating as to whether or not this was a good idea. But you feel your knuckles tap against the wooden door a few times and freeze, holding still to hear any movement from within.

Nothing.

No footsteps, no moving, no talking.

You do it again only to get the same empty response.

You feel your stomach drop.

Is he ignoring me? Did I really mess it up? Why did I leave like that? You feel your eyes burn as you continue to state at the door, mind thinking the worst.

‘Y-Y/n?” Al Haitham whispers from behind you.

He blinks a few times, making sure he's not hallucinating. There's been a few incidents where he thought you came back home a few days ago and it wasn't you, he didn't want to get his hopes up.

You blink at the door and hold your breath, slowly turning your head to look back at a distraught looking Al Haitham.

You open your mouth to say sorry, to apologize for leaving him when you should have just talked things out but nothing comes out, instead a small whimper escapes as your vision gets more blurry. His eyes, the look in his eyes made your throat swell. When you first met him it was so hard to read him, to tell his emotions but the look in his eyes right now says everything.

This tears Al Haitham from the inside out, his long legs walk up the small step to your house and he opens his arms as he nears you immediately wrapping them around you and pulling you in close, his eyes blown wide.

“It's you- you're here I didnt think you were- I thought you weren't coming back.” He exhales a shaky breath as he brings you closer, one hand cradling your head and other pulling you up from your torso.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I've said to you. It's inexcusable to say it's because of my work when you were just trying to help, you always do and I need that, I need you here to keep me grounded to keep me sane, you're anything but a hindrance, you help me in ways I never thought anyone could. Please stay. Don't leave me again.” he pulls back, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours.

“I will marry you over and over again if I have to prove myself.” one of his hands moves from your cheek, grabbing your hand in his and placing it on his chest where the necklace with the rings are.

“Haitham I'm sorry I left you alone I should've just listened.” you grab his hand that was holding your cheek, closing your eyes at the warmth you've missed so much feeling the tears you were holding slide down your face. Al Haitham only shakes his head

“Don't apologize to me. No one should have to hear that. Be treated that way, especially you.” he feels his hands shake slightly, with you in his hold. He feels like it's fake, like it's another one of the dreams he's been having since you've left him like he's going to wake up and you're still going to be gone.

“Please don't leave me, I need you home to keep me grounded. I missed you more than you can imagine.” He hugs you again, pulling your head into his chest and closing his eyes.

Throughout all the time you've been with him you've never seen him so on edge, look so scared. Let alone be this affectionate, you can feel it in the way he holds you , the way he speaks, he truly feels bad for what he said and done. Though you still feel torn, hurt from his actions you know you can't leave him again as you've missed him just as much.

As he holds you close, breathes in your comforting scent that he's come to love so much he vows to not take your caring for granted, that he needs you here more than anything. That he isn't himself without you.

zhongli⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Zhongli left, he’s gone.

You’re more than sure he’s moved on, found someone better who manages to actually care for their own well being and who doesn’t stress him out too much the way you did.

It’s what he deserves, anyways all you were doing was weighing him down, putting him under constant stress and worry to the point he couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s you, you’re the one who pushed him away the only good thing you had going on is now never coming back

Though he's been gone, Zhongli kept his word, he’s kept an eye on you since the day he left you.

A whole year had flown by agonizingly slow. It was driving him crazy as more time passed he grew worried you didn’t want him back.

During the duration of the year he’s noticed how you care more about your well being more. You took a break from adventuring and weren't as reckless. You started to work at your fathers local bakery to get back on your feet as you recovering from your injuries, Zhongli was relieved.

Though you seemed fine on the outside you only grew to despise yourself more than you ever had before since he’s left. You knew you didn’t deserve him and having him leave just proved your hurt heart more to that fact.

Zhongli kept his word, still watching over you from far away places, making sure to keep out of your line of view but more than anything he wanted to go back to you, wanted to go back home with you where you both belong.

The year with him gone was a process, one that took your mind into a very dark place.

You were hurt for so long, then you grew angry only for it all to ball up into self hatred.

During your time away from him you’ve reflected, taken care of yourself physically but mentally you were drained, it was constant nagging going on. Zhongli would be the one to quell those thoughts but you only had yourself, it was getting harder as days went on.

“I can’t stand seeing you beaten and bruised yet you are all the time.”

“You’re too much for me to handle.” Zhongli sighs, finally having enough, leaving his wedding band behind and walking out the door, never turning back once.

You shoot up from bed, looking around the room as you try to regulate your breathing, seeing the sun peeking in through your curtains.

Your hand reaches over to the ever so cold side of your bed and you're thrown back to reality. You mind immediately fogging with thoughts you don't want to hear.

You were in a constant brain fog, always lost in your own thoughts.

To the point it was was starting to become a problem, you weren't aware of lots of things most of the time. Not paying attention to certain things that could easily turn dangerous.

You got ready for work as usual, made your way down to the bakery, your mind racing a thousand thoughts per second.

“Hey y/n right?” A regular that you see buying bread at your fathers bakery stops you just blocks away from the bakery.

You turn around and he walks closer to you, greeting you with a smile.

“Good Morning.” you force your lips to turn upwards.

“Your father told me to tell you to pick up some things from my house for ingredients before you go in, it's just down the street.” he points down the road to a small house by the mountain.

“Alright, I'll go grab it right now. Is it a lot of supplies?” you ask, walking down the path thinking nothing of the situation.

“Not much but I think you’ll need an extra hand if anything.” The says, following a few feet behind you, looking around the surrounding area.

Zhongli was on his usual morning stroll, passing by your fathers bakery to make sure you get to work safe when he sees a random man stop you.

He stops walking when he sees you walk the complete opposite way from the bakery, following the man down the road. He feels a familiar feeling rising in his chest once again, your putting yourself in situations you don't see are clear signs of danger.

“Yeah, I'll help you bring them back up, it's just a few bags of flour and sugar right?” you ask, the man only hums in response, walking slowly behind you. You don't think about it, instead you continue your regular pace, already dreading the day ahead of you. you know you won't be able to concentrate much already feeling drained from getting up from bed alone.

Though it was morning, the end of the street was oddly quiet for this busy part of town.

Every stall around here is usually set up by now.

You near the small house and walk up the porch, turning and waiting for the guy behind you to open it though you notice his whole demeanor change. He was much closer now looking around him before looking back at you, reaching in his pocket to grab his keys.

He walks past you and unlocks the door holding it open, mentioning for you to walk in first, so you do, hearing the door behind you close and the sound of clicking, like he was locking it behind him.

“Why're you-”

“I brought them, our deal is done.” the man clears his throat, looking directly behind you.

You freeze, looking at the man with wide eyes when you realize what he said. Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand as you slowly turn around seeing a group of treasure hoarders standing directly behind you.

You start to back away, reaching into your pocket and getting the small dagger you carry but feeling someone grab your arm before you can pull it out.

“No no no, don't play dirty now we just want to talk. Your father makes a good amount of money in this town, he'll surely pay a good ransom to get his precious kid back now, won't he?” a treasure hoarder laughs, squeezing your wrist making the dagger drop from your grasp.

“My father pays for my brother's medical bills. Please don't make him pay for something he can’t afford. I have money, you can take all mine and let me go. I won't say a thing.” you look at the treasure hoarder standing in the middle of the room and hear his laughter boom through the small house.

“You’re kidding me right?” his hand brings up the ax he was holding and takes a step towards you.

You don't want this, to make someone else suffer because of you. Not your own family after they are already dealing with so much.

Zhongli waited a few minutes by the house you entered and saw no sign of you coming back out, he didn't want to interfere. He has no right. He's been so scared to go back to you, he regrets leaving. He knows he shouldn't have done it that way, he should've stayed, helped you another way. He doesn't think you'd want him back after so long, he has no right to be checking on you. You've probably well moved on.

But he can't help but worry, still check on you because he still loves and cares for you, just like he said he would the day he married you. But he left you, walked out the door, left his ring but worst of all left you all alone.

He feels something off though. From the looks of it the man you were talking to wasn't someone you knew personally, he could tell from our body language, the way you distanced yourself from him. If it was a friend of yours or someone you were close you’d look more relaxed and wouldn't be so tense or distance yourself so far from them when talking.

They're taking too long. Are they ok? Zhongli thinks, eyeing the small house. Contemplating as to whether or not he should go and check.

“Listen, your father gives us the money for you and nothing else got it.” the treasure hoarder leans down to your height and you narrow your eyes at him.

“My father won't give you a penny understand? Do your worst.” You dare the man in front of you seeing his smile drop.

You stay still, seeing a small open window to the right of you from your peripherals. The dagger you dropped right next to your foot.

“You testing me kid?” the treasure hoarder steps even closer making you shrink into yourself.

You quickly duck down, sweeping your leg under the mas feet and grabbing the dagger next to you hearing a thud, you don't even turn around as you hear multiple footsteps closing in as you run to the window, your arms and torso getting out before you feel a pair of hands grab your leg.

You feel your body get pulled back in instantly, your body hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Donp tugh mi (don’t touch me)!” you try to scream but a hand muffles you before you do.

The loud ruckus alerts Zhongli and he doesn't even take a second to think. He's outside the door in an instant before his brain can register what he's doing.

A soft knock at the door stops everyone making the guy on top of you press his hand harder against your mouth.

“Don't think about it.” he looks down at you, voice dripping with malice.

Another knock at the door and the man on top of you signal for his subordinates to stay quiet.

Zhongli was giving them a chance to prove themselves but the second time he knocked and no one answered he had enough.

It grew completely silent, the sound of footsteps walking away was heard before the door and its hinges flew into the house.

A familiar silhouette stood in the doorway and you couldn't blink, you had to be hallucinating now.

Why is Zhongli here? How did he know I was here? Your mind halts seeing his eyes glow gold.

The man on top of you was thrown off in a second as a flash of gold passed by you, the other men being knocked to the ground seconds after as everything slowed down your eyes following the gold flash going across the room.

Everything goes quiet once again. The treasure hoarders in there were now all on the floor knocked unconscious as Zhongli stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving up and down as he glares at the foolish mortals who dared to try and hurt you.

You slowly sit up and back away, not really knowing what to say to him because why? Of all time why is he here? How'd he know you were here?

He hears the floor behind him creak and turns, golden eyes narrowing at you until he comes to realize it's you, you're ok.

When he broke the door down and saw the man holding you down his mind went into autopilot, he hasn't acted out on emotion in so long, it took over him before he could control it.

“Why're you here?” you ask, looking away from him grabbing the dagger and putting it back into your pocket.

He steps forward and you step back, the anger you've been holding back is starting to surface.

“Why did you follow him? Do you trust this man this much to have him bring you here and-”

“Dont, I don't need another lecture from you.” you almost laugh. After all this time away this is what he starts with?

“Yeah I know, take care of myself, work things out, I remember trust me, after all that's the last thing you told me before leaving remember? Right now I don't have time to hear it, I have to go to work.” You don't even bother looking back at him as you walk past to leave.

“I'm sorry.” He stares at you as you stop, seeing you shake your head and look down.

“I shouldn't have left you alone, it wasn't a good way to prove myself, I just wanted you to-”

“Zhongli please don't….” you sigh, feeling the heavy feeling settling in your chest, turning to look back at him, your eyes widening when you see one of the men he knocked out get up behind him.“GET DOWN!”

Everything moved too fast, your legs, the man behind him, but Zhongli didn't move fast enough.

Old habits die hard. You feel tired from everything, thinking too much, getting up today.

Zhongli feels the weight of your body go limp as you fall forward an arrow sticking out of your back, the man he had knocked out earlier standing directly behind, wide eyes looking up at Zhongli as he realizes who exactly it was.

“I didn't mean to get them. I wasn't going to hurt them. I swear, please don't hurt me.” the man coweres as his legs give out under him. Zhongli only stares down at you in his arms, seeing your eyes fighting to stay open.

“You're going to leave again aren't you?” your voice cracks and Zhongli feels his breath hitch, the pain in his heart worsening, you think he'd leave you alone like this?

“I'm not leaving anytime soon my love, just give me a second and i'll take you to Dr Baizhu right now, whatever you do dont turn around and keep your eyes open for me.” He picks you up, carrying you to the corner of the house facing you away from the man behind you, leaning down and giving your head a kiss before standing back up.

It all feels like a dream, this can't be real, you feel far too sleepy for it to be.

Zhongli summons his polarm and stands back up, slowly walking to the man who hurt you.

You couldn't do what he wanted again, you tried but your eyes keep closing from sheer exhaustion, the last thing you heard before completely blacking out was screaming coming from behind you, the same flash of gold blinding you once again before you felt your own body go limp, succumbing into the darkness.

◇──◇─────◇──◇

authors note: hello lovelies!! ◝꒰´꒳`∗꒱◟ ohmygoodness I’m so sorry for how long I took to write a second part to this T~T I’ve just been pretty busy but I’ve been getting more inspo for more stories that I’m so freaking excited to share with y’all! :D but alas part two of take it back is here! I had to make zhongli’s part angsty and another open ending- IMSORRY ik I need to stop LOLOL but I do hope you all enjoy and that I wrote it angsty enough for y’all (some of y’all told me to make it more angsty LMAOO you all like getting your feelings hurt just like I do >.< please make sure you are all taking care and staying safe ^~^<3 (this isn’t edited so apologies for any errors!!)

@ilocqua @2hilarious4u @esthelily @cypressus-lunis @taetaebunni @coruscale @wearetherealarm @chiyukin @lum1nesc3nce @anxietysslave @starlightaura @duckyyyx @dreamlessnight @myimymy

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 40.

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

”When do you think she will wake up?” A low, familiar voice says, breaking through the fog in my head.

Garrick.

”Hard to say. I’ve never seen a signet like hers before. No one has.” A voice I can’t quite place. But still slightly familiar.

Me. They’re talking about me.

”Do you think the damage it’s caused is permanent?” A gruff female voice asks. Imogen. Definitely her.

Damage? They can’t be talking about the Wyvern I took down. There was nothing left of them. Perishing into a pile of dust as they hit the ground behind Garrick. And Garrick... He seems to be ok. That means they’re talking about me.

”Hard to say till she wakes up. The internal damage looked worse than it was due to the blood she was coughing up. But it will be interesting to see if she can see out of that eye now with the colour its turned.” The voice I still can’t quite place says.

Who was that? Definitely not Bodhi. Liam? No…. I know Liam’s voice. Who the hell was it?

Before I can try to pinpoint it the fog starts to seep back in, pulling me back to its depths.

This time when I break through the fog I’m able to open my eyes. It’s night, the room I’m in cast in an eerie glow from the mage light next to my bed. The familiar sound of wind hitting the cliffs.... Wind hitting the cliffs. A sound I hadn't heard in years. A sound that I would only hear in one place.

Home.

I sit upright, releasing my hand from another's grasp as I survey the room. My room. My room in Aretia. Home. I was back in Aretia. I hardly have time to absorb the surroundings before I am enveloped in a tight hug. The individual's arms press me against their trembling body, their sobs shaking us both. I don't need to turn my head to try and see who embraces me, recognising the familiar scent that fills my nostrils.

Garrick.

I immediately wrap my arms around him as my own tears roll down my cheeks. I was alive somehow. He was alive. We had survived. Something we both hadn’t thought would happen. And yet here we were. Sitting in Aretia of all places.

Garrick finally loosens his grip on me as he pulls back to look at me. Both of us looking over each other to make sure this is real and we’re both ok. It’s then I see the new scar adorning his face, stretching from his temple down to his jaw.

”This is new.” I ask, my voice hoarse and gravelly from not being used for a few days.

He nods slow. “Yeah, I got it after you-”

I watch his eyes gloss over with fresh tears that threaten to spill over as he takes a shaky breath. I’d never seen Garrick like this, and it’s easy to tell what had gone through his mind in that moment. He had thought I was dead. He’d watched as I’d doubled over, coughing up blood before collapsing. And judging by the shadows around his eyes, and his slightly sunken in cheeks, I’d been out for a few days at least.

”I’m here. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere.” Reaching out to caress his cheek, my fingers tracing lightly over the new scar.

He chuckles darkly, “Forgive me if I don’t quite believe you. I’ve had to go through pretty much losing you twice in my life now.”

Ouch. But he wasn’t wrong. Twice in six years he had to go through thinking I was actually dead and thinking he’d just watched me die.

”Trust me, I’m doing my best to stay alive.” I try to assure him in a joking tone.

Garrick’s eyes harden ever so slightly and I know he hasn’t take my joke lightly. “Then you promise me you’ll never do whatever that was again. What was that?” His voice raising slightly.

”I honestly don’t know.” I start as I look down at my hands where the shadows had come out of. “I just panicked when I saw it direct those Wyvern at you. I just wanted to do anything I could to stop it, to save you and I just remember feeling this surge or power and…”

”And what?”

I take a deep breath before looking back up at him, noting the way his gaze flickers to my left eye.

”Death. It felt like what I’d imagine death to feel like.”

Garrick takes a sharp breath, his gaze locking back on my left eye. “Well that might explain why that happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, Garrick turning to grab a mirror from the bedside table. He hands it to me, reflective side down. Clearly giving me the choice on if I wanted to see what had happened straight away or ease myself into it. I grasp the handle, turning the mirror towards my face. I’d honestly been expecting a scar or terrible bruising to adorn my face. But there wasn’t a single mark on me. Not a single scar or a bruise. Instead my left eye being a usual bright green, is void of any colour. As if the colour had been drained out of it, and I can’t help but be reminded of the way the colour had been drained from the ground after the Venin had channelled. Almost as if whatever I had done had taken some life out of me to do it. As if I’d drawn something out of me to do that.

”Well good news is I can still see fine.” I try to say positively as I look back over at Garrick, handing the mirror back out to him.

”Least that’s something.” He mutters as he places the mirror back on the bedside table before standing and walking over to the window that over looks Riorson house.

I stand on shakey legs, having to use my bed to steady myself as I stand. Definitely had been a few days I’d been out for then if I can barely stand.

Least you’re alive little one. Not everyone can say that.

I breathe a sigh of relief at hearing her in my head. Also feeling a little guilty I hadn’t reached out to see if she was ok. But if I was alive I knew she was to. But I sense a double meaning in her words.

What do you mean not everyone? I ask, almost snapping at her.

I remember Soleil and Fuil not making it. Something about her tone makes me think we lost more. If it was Xaden, Garrick would have told me.

“Liam and Deigh.” Garrick mumbles from the window, before turning slowly to me.

I shake my head, not wanting to believe his words. But there’s no denying the slight hurt in Garricks eyes. Liam was dead.

Fuck.

I blink back the tears that threaten to fall down my cheeks, a few managing to escape before I quickly rub them away with the back of my hand.

Liam was dead because of the Colonel. Soleil was dead because of the Colonel. All those people in that outpost dead because of him. Because they wouldn’t tell us the truth. Wouldn’t teach us what was really out there.

“Why do you look like you want to kill someone?” Garrick asks, a hint of concern in his voice as he watches me.

“Because I do.” I say sternly as I wobble over and join him at the window, look out over the place I call home. “If they just told us what was really going on out there. If they didn’t lie to us…”

“But they do. And they will continue to do so.”

I snap my head towards him. “And we’re just going to let them?”

“Yes, because if we go back there and start telling everyone what we’ve seen then they will kill us all.” He warns me. “We’ll be lucky if they even let us live when we go back.”

Shit. He was right. As angry as I was. As much as I wanted to fight back and show them as the liars they really are. We couldn’t. They’d kill us all without any hesitation.

“They’ll let us live.” I tell him confidently. “They have no choice but to let us live. If they do, they’d have to explain what we saw. What we fought. They can’t kill us because it will arouse too many questions.”

“I hope you’re right sweetheart, because I can’t have them killing us after this.” He says softly, a slight shake in his voice as he steps back from the window slightly.

No not stepping back. Kneeling. Kneeling down on one knee and holding the box he had placed in my hands at Athebyne out to me. The box he had told me to look after. And now I know why. Inside the box is a ring I had seen countless times growing up. Had seen it every summer when his family had come to stay with us. A beautiful silver band adorned with emeralds. His mother’s ring. Probably the only thing he had left of hers. I look down at Garrick with shock, his familiar cocky smirk on his face as he looks up at me.

“I know you said you’d let me know when you’re ready. But I will be damned if I’m waiting a moment longer to do this. Twice now I’ve thought I’d lost you. Twice I thought I’d lost my chance. Twice I’ve asked for someone’s blessing to marry their daughter and sister.”

Oh gods. This is really happening. And all I can do is stare down at Garrick in shock, just like he’s done when he’d seen me in to rotunda nearly a year ago. Or when I’d approached him near the Parapet on Reunification Day.

“Ophelia Riorson. Will you marry me?”

To Be Continued.....

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[suspensefulpen]

Always Be

TW: Conditioned Whumpee, Possessive Whumper, Brief Kidnapping Mention

Of course I don’t need Whumper. I could live freely and happily without them. My life would be perfect without them around. 

That’s what Whumpee’s been attempting to convince themself for the past three days. 

Wow, three days? It’s only been three days? I feel like I’ve been away for three years… 

They smiled. That’s a good sign right? They’ve been so distracted with all the things around them that they completely forgot how much time had actually gone by. They could keep this up forever! Whumpee was proud of their independence. If they could do it for seventy-two hours, they could do it for seventy-two years. 

In fact, Whumpee was so proud, they were sure they could go out at night and be perfectly fine. Whumper always told them that there were people who wanted to take Whumpee away that mostly wandered around at night. Because of that, Whumpee was never allowed near windows or even above ground at night. They couldn’t even remember what the moon or the stars looked like. At least until they were let free. 

The night sky was absolutely gorgeous! Did stars always twinkly so beautifully? Was the moon always that bright? Why would Whumper deprive them of such a sight? It should be considered a crime. Whumpee found themself a spot to get the best view of it. If everything looked pretty there in the daytime, who’s to say it wouldn’t at night? 

When Whumpee got there, they noticed that no one was around. They raised a brow but decided to shrug it off. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone trying to get them. That would be one more time they prove Whumper wrong. 

They walked towards the pier, looking around to be sure no one was near. They flinched when they noticed a figure about thirty feet away. Forcing themself to think positive, Whumpee kept walking. Their positive thoughts increased when they took a look at the scenery before them.

The moonlight reflected onto the water, along with the many pretty stars. It made everything seem to glow, whatever was in the distance became a silhouette dancing across the water. It was amazing. It was nothing like all of the terrors Whumper instilled into their brain over the course of their time with them. How could they hide such a wonderful thing from Whumpee? 

“Hey!” 

Whumpee was pulled from their thoughts when the figure called out to them. They looked around and pointed to themself. “M-me?” 

“Yeah, you!” The figure stepped closer, into the light shone by an overhead light, a frown on the person’s face. “What are you doing out here?” 

Whumpee instantly averted their gaze. “I… I was just looking.” 

“Looking for what?” 

“I–no–I-I was just looking at the sky.” They reluctantly glanced upwards to find a furrowed brow. 

“What, is it your first time seeing it?” They took a step closer, making Whumpee start to inch away. 

“Well I…” They paused when they heard a creak behind them. Whumpee turned to find two more figures walking up. Panic instantly rose in their chest. They started to take back their doubts about Whumper’s words. The figures each continued to step closer and closer. 

Without a second thought, Whumpee did the only thing they knew how to do: run. 

Whumpee bolted off, screaming as they went. There was bound to be someone around to hear them and come rescue them. When no one seemed to be coming to their rescue, they remembered exactly where they were. On a pier late at night with no one around. They were bound to end up kidnapped or worse. 

“Help! Help me! Please!” 

Whumpee checked their tail before running into something. They nearly fell to the ground, screaming, when the person held them tightly. 

“Whumpee? Whumpee, are you okay?” 

It was none other than Whumper. 

Whumpee instantly burst into tears, burying their face in Whumper’s chest. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” 

“Sorry, for what Darling?” Whumper asked softly as they brought their hand to Whumpee’s cheek. 

“That-that you were wrong! And they–and they—” 

“Slow down, slow down.” They patted Whumpee’s head. “Tell me what happened.” 

“They tried to hurt me! They tried to get me! Just like you said!” They sobbed. “They were trying to take me away!” 

Whumper held them close. “Well it’s okay now, Darling. You’re safe with me.” 

Whumpee wiped their face, sniffling. “I’m sorry I doubted you…” 

“Let’s get you somewhere safe. I’m sure, you’re a little shaken up from that happening.”

[shadowuponstorm]

You're Gonna Get Us in Trouble

Reader is the newest member of the 118 and is a huge rule follower. So what happens when her secret relationship almost comes to light when a certain Diaz can't keep his hands off of her? Oh, did I mention that the reader is Bobby Nash's niece?

I'm not sure if this should be a warning, there are some spicy sentences (regarding f!oral receiving and squeezing of the ass), but they don't qualify this as smut fanfic, in my opinion! If I'm thinking incorrectly, please tell me in the comments or message me.

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Reaching my hand over, I turn the phone towards me to see the contact name, "Uncle Bobby," taking over the whole screen. I silently curse before answering with a "Morning, Uncle Bobby. Did you need something?"

"Sorry to be waking you up before shift, but I was wondering if you could run by the store to grab some essentials for me," Bobby says as I feel the other body beside me starting to move.

"Yeah, sure. Do you have a list?" I asked as I felt a pair of lips kissing a trail behind my ear and then stopping at the one spot that makes me shiver, "Actually, can you text it to me? I still got sleep on my mind to remember all of it."

Once Bobby told me that was completely fine, I hung up the phone after we exchanged love you. I turned to face Eddie and slapped him on his bare shoulder before scolding him, "He could've heard you!"

"It was worth the risk," Eddie said as he leaned closer to kiss me, "When are we eventually going to tell people?"

"It's bad enough that he keeps overhearing Buck talk about the bruises on my neck. It's going to become worse if he finds out I'm dating one of his 'boys' after he warned me not to," I respond as I sighed before telling Eddie it will be soon.

Eddie and I have been dating for six months, which has been the best months of my life. He has all the qualities that make him amazing, sweet, funny, always knows how to take care of me when the situation calls for it, and he's attentive.

"Amor, keeping us a secret has to be eating away at you. It can't be good for you," Eddie whispered as I remind him how I'm a follower and nobody expects me to start bending the rules just because I'm dating a fellow firefighter, "Well, I've got an idea that will help keep your mind off of it."

"Edmundo, no, we only have 15 minutes before we have to report for a shift," I said as Eddie smirked before pushing up the shirt I was wearing, making my lace panties come into view.

"I only need 8 of those minutes," Eddie whispered while his head disappeared under the covers as his fingers trailed my underwear down my legs before moving them back up to spread my folds.

"Eddie-" I started to laugh before letting out a moan from feeling his tongue enter me and I run my hand through his hair before balling into a fist to pull at it, which in turns, makes him groan out into me.

Let’s just say, it took exactly 7 minutes and 20 seconds for Eddie to make me come from just his mouth. After I “finished”, we got our showers, put on our uniforms, and left my apartment in our separate vehicles before he heads to the station while I head to the store.

“Wow, your mystery man certainly is a leech,” I hear Buck shout as I rush over to him and slammed my hand over his mouth before telling him to shut the fuck up.

“Is this the same guy or a different one?” Howie asks as I explained to him that I’m not that type of girl, “I’m just saying, no judgment here. Buckaroo here knows what it’s like.”

“Hey, come on, that was years ago! I’ve now since quit that,” Buck complains as I laugh and told him that I knew that he has since changed his ways.

I head over to my locker and started putting my stuff in there before I feel someone tap my shoulder and whisper, “Why is Diaz on your shirt?”

“Wait what?” I asked in a panic as I try to look in a mirror before I hear Hen laughing and I groaned before saying “Real funny, Hen.”

Hen is the only one who knows about mine and Eddie’s relationship, since she caught the two of us getting a little too close for comfort at an event for the department. Turns out, she has a bet going with most of the boys that Eddie and I would end up together so she offered to keep the secret if I help her win.

“So, you were a little late this morning, I take Eddie took his sweet time?” Hen teases, making me laugh before explaining that Bobby called asking for me to grab some essential for lunch or dinner, “Wait, did Bobby hear him?”

"Almost, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if my uncle has heard his niece ‘getting some loving’?” I said as Hen snickers and starts to laugh before I smack her arm, harshly whispering, “It’s not that funny!”

“What’s not funny?” I hear Uncle Bobby asked, so I swiftly responded nothing before he gives me and Hen a concerned look.

“She was just telling me about how she’s embarrassed she burnt herself with the curling iron again,” Hen responds as Bobby shook his head and said “You’ve been getting quite a lot of those bruises lately, try to be careful next time alright?”

“Of course Uncle Bobby,” I told him as he walks away, before I turned my attention back to Hen, “I’m going to murder Eddie.”

Hen laughs again as she walks away towards upstairs, leaving me alone in the locker room. A few minutes go by before I hear the door open and footsteps enter.

“Hola Amor,” I hear Eddie whisper in my ear as I feel his hand move down to my ass to squeeze it.

“Eddie,” I warned him while I reached back and removed his hand, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

Eddie then moves me around, facing him before putting his hands on my hips and whispering, “With who? Everyone’s upstairs and we’re alone.”

“Even if they are upstairs, this room is like a glass house,” I whispered back as Eddie shook his head and leans in to give me a kiss.

“You worry too much, maybe your uncle will be happy you finally found a handsome man who swept you off your feet,” Eddie says, making me smile, before he continues with, “And maybe he won’t be too mad that his two firefighters happen to be dating.”

“You don’t understand how overprotective Bobby can get, especially about family,” I respond before sighing, “Ever since he’s lost his wife and kids in that fire, he’s been beating himself up mentally. Heaven forbid, something happens to me, to Athena, to May, to Harry, to anyone in the fire family under his watch, I fear he’s could go back into that spiral that made him fall off the wagon.”

“While I can’t exactly say I’ve been in your shoes witnessing that part of Bobby, I do know what it’s like to be overprotective about someone you love,” Eddie says and before I could say I know he’s meaning Christopher, he continues, “I never told you this but before I was to re-enlist to provide money for Christopher’s medical bills, Shannon left us to go take care of her mother. She begged me to go with her, but all I was focusing on was making sure I could give Christopher everything he wanted or needed. She called me selfish for doing so.”

“Edmundo Diaz, nothing about you is selfish. Your son was born with complications and has cerebral palsy so he’s bound to have medical expenses at some points of his life. That kid is so lucky to have you as his father and don’t forget, you had an army standing right behind you helping you out with whatever you needed while you were working various jobs to sustain a living,” I reminded him, which made him give me the biggest smile I’ve ever gotten from him, before he kisses me again, but this time with passion.

“Damn it!” We heard someone shout before we pulled apart and jerked our heads to the sound, Buck.

“Pay up gentlemen,” Hen says as Eddie and I exited the locker room, “Thanks to you two, I’m now $40 richer.”

“How long has this been going on?” Chimney asks before glancing his eyes over to my uncle.

“Are you mad?” I asked, nervous for his reaction since like I told Eddie, he’s overprotective about family.

Bobby then starts making his way downstairs and walks toward me before pulling me into a bear hug.

“There is no way I could be mad about my niece being happy with the man she loves,” Bobby says before I squeezed him back, “But really, how long have you two been together?”

“6 months,” Eddie and I both said before Buck asked if Christopher knows, which prompts Eddie to answer with, “He knows, he’s been very excited about the two of us.”

“When did you tell him?” I asked, curious how Christopher has managed to keep the secret.

“He actually drew a picture of the three of us and when I asked him why he included you, he said you were like a second mom to him. Always there when he needed you or there if he wants to talk to you. He also had suspicions when he saw my contact name for you on my phone,” Eddie responds, making me laugh before I ask him what it is.

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the contacts before scrolling to the name he has for me, which made my heart melt.

“Mi Amor Por Siempre, which translates to ‘My Love Forever’ in English,” Eddie explains as I try not to cry about the meaning in front of everyone.

“I wonder what your contact name is for him,” Buck pipes up as I laugh at the random outburst.

“Mi Soldado, my soldier,” I said, making Buck confused and he then asked me if it would’ve made more sense for it to be my firefighter, “Eddie may be a firefighter, but he was a soldier first. Still is even if he’s in a different profession, he soldiered through single parenthood, war, and especially soldiered through fire. I couldn’t be any more prouder of him.”

“Now you two are perfect for one another,” Hen says as Eddie dips me and kisses me, making everyone hoot and holler at the scene.

Suddenly the alarm rang and the voice came on to tell us where we were needed. While everyone is hustling and bustling to get ready to leave the station, Eddie whispered, “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

I smiled before saying, “Definitely not,” as I put my hand in his and we start racing toward the truck, with not a care in the world who’s watching us be in love anymore.

[imagineanime2022]

Surprise You.

Hideyoshi Nagachika X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2046

Requested: @the-letter-horror-lover

Request: Please may I have a Tokyo ghoul headcanon of Hideyoshi Nagachika with a female reader who is a ghoul and certainly not human but she is a calm and a nice ghoul..she is the oldest sister of the Kirishima siblings (Touka and Ayato Kirishima)..and she attended her classes in college and took notes. She didn't take human lives..she only ate the human flesh of those who had passed away or had committed suicide or don't deserve to live *e.g. murderers..as mild as she may seem..she is a highly dangerous ghoul in the eyes of the doves and she is a skillful fighter. Overall though she is humane, noble, brave, heroic, protective, sweet, serious, caring, kind.

She was understandingly wary when she first met him..she heard of too many stories of humans selling out her kind to the Doves and she had one boyfriend before and look how that turned out! She did end up having to protect him from less than friendly ghouls.

Warnings: Talk of eating people, injuries, kidnapping, death

You had never been more relieved when Yoshimaru offered you a job and a place for Touka after she finished school. After losing Ayato to his anger at humans, you wanted to do everything to keep her safe, hoping to find a way to get him back to your family. You understood why he felt that way, you were distrusting and wary of humans yourself, you had seen many give over ghouls they claimed to have loved or held dear to them. You’d had a boyfriend yourself, one that you had ended up saving from a bad situation with some ghouls and you never saw him again, if fact that was the day that the CCG dusted off your case reports and tracked your current location.

You remember the first time that he spoke to you, he came in with Kaneki encouraging him to talk to a ghoul that frequented the Anteiku cafe. You had been at the counter when Touka took over they’re drinks, you had taken coffee over to Rize, another regular but to be honest you should have recognised the look of a ghoul that was hunting but you didn’t. You watched as Kaneki walked over to her and struck up conversation, you didn’t even hear Hideyoshi approach you so it did make you jump a little when he spoke to you.

“You're here every time that we come in but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at school with us.” Hideyoshi said. “That’s because I don’t go to school with you.” You said “do you want to pay or something?” “I mean I can but I actually just wanted to talk to you.” Hideyoshi shrugged as he leaned on the counter. “I’m sure you did.” You ran up the total for his drinks and gave him his total. “She’s your sister right?” Hideyoshi asked as he looked over at Touka, he saw confusion on your face and he smiled. “You look like her.” “Oh.” You nodded as you looked at Touka “she is my sister.” “I’m sorry that you both have to work here.” He said softly as you looked at him and frowned. “What?” You asked. “Well people our age don’t choose to work but it’s not uncommon, people her age don’t work unless they have to, so I’m sorry that you both have to,” Hideyoshi explained, it was then that you realised that he might be a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for, he was goofy and bright but that hid the smarts that were underneath. “Nothing anyone can do to change it now, not when we were born to suffer his way.” You shrugged and he frowned as he looked at you. He didn’t say anything but you could hear the gears turning in his head before he settled for one sentence. “Hopefully that changes for you. My name's Hideyoshi by the way.”

The next time that you saw him, he didn’t see you, it was just before Kaneki had started working at Anteiku, you and Touka had been hunting when you found them, hunting was a broad term you didn’t hurt anyone living unless they were known murders, serial killers or worse, otherwise you would feed on already dead bodies. You remember seeing Kaneki struggling with the urge to kill his best friend, you had some human meat with you at the time so you threw it over and that distracted him long enough for you to get behind him and knock him out. You and Touka carried them back to the cafe after that. “What happened?” Yoshimaru asked. “Another ghoul had a run in with them, looks like he was trying to kill Hideyoshi but Kaneki stopped him.” You explained as you handed over Kaneki, who Yomo took up to a room to wait until he woke up again, while you followed Touka who was still carrying Hideyoshi “he lost control and almost ate his friend though, gave him some human flesh to calm him down and then knocked him out.” “What about the other ghoul?” Yoshimaru asked. “Injured but not dead, he’ll be fine after he eats.” You answered “he was too injured to follow us but even if he did, he would be easy enough to neutralise.” “You have done well, I will talk to Kaneki when he wakes about working here, for now clean up Hideyoshi and bandage him up, we’ll tell him he they were all in a crash, nothing fatal and he was the one that got off worse.” Yoshimaru ordered and you nodded. You easily cleaned Hideyoshi up and bandaged all of the wounds that he had, most of them were around his face and head. He didn’t wake in the time that you spent watching over him in fact you didn’t see before he left either.

Kaneki was working with you and Touka at Anteiku when Hideyoshi came in again. “Good you're here, I wanted to thank you for looking after me after the car accident.” Hideyoshi smiled as he walked over to you. “No need to thank me.” You answered softly as you looked at him, subtly checking over the wounds that you could see, they all seemed to be healing well. “Nishiki wasn’t here with us?” He asked. “No, he was awake when we got there, he wanted to go to the hospital, so we brought you both back here.” You explained. “Well thanks for helping me and Kaneki.” He shrugged “do I get to learn your name now?” “My name?” You asked. “Yeah, is that a problem?” He asked. “No… No, um, I-, My name is (Y/N).” You answered. “Nice to finally meet you.” Hideyoshi smiled. You wanted to let your guard down, he seemed so kind and gentle but he didn’t know what you were. The moment that he found out that you were a ghoul that would change, you were sure that it would.

Over the next couple of months Hide visited the cafe sometimes to see Kaneki but a lot of the time to come and see you. As Touka and Kaneki started to get closer you spent more time with Hide, you ended up learning more about him than you thought and sharing more than you wanted about your father disappearing and your brother following suit. Everything shifted after Kaneki was kidnapped, Touka started to retreat back into herself again and nothing you could do would help her. You refused to let yourself feel sad or lonely because it felt selfish. You weren’t as close to Kaneki as Touka or some of the others were, so you needed to keep everything running for when Kaneki decided to come back. Even still Hide would come by, most of the time to see if Kaneki would show up.

“How have you been?” You asked, he looked at you. “I’ve been thinking…” He said and you nodded fear gripping you as you waited for what he was going to say next. “I think I’m going to start working part time at the CCG.” “What!? Why?” You asked. “I just- it’s the only way that I can look for Kaneki, maybe if they find something then I’ll at least know.” He explained. After everything he told you, you knew why he was worried. With no family Kaneki was unlikely to have anyone looking for him outside of Anteiku and Hide. Not to mention none of you would be told if they ever did find anything because you weren’t next of kin. “Are you… Are you sure?” You asked. “Why are you so worried?” Hide asked. “I’m-” worried that you’ll find out about me and never want to talk to me again. “Worried that you’ll get hurt.” “No need to worry about that, I'm just going to work in the office part time.” He waved off your concern “I promise that nothing will happen to me.”

That was the last time that you spoke to him in person before the raid, you were fighting for your life when you caught sight of him in the multitude of humans running around, you were successfully knocking out the one that came at you. By the time that Hide found you, you were doubled over with your hand pressed to your stomach “(Y/N)!?” Hide rushed over, pressing his hand to your stomach. “You said nothing would happen to you… You could get hurt here.” You tried to joke but it just sounded like you were scolding him. “Come on.” He hoisted your arm over his shoulder as he looked around, everyone seemed to be knocked out or fighting so he moved you out of sight before crouching “I wish I could do more but I… Kaneki is here. I have to find him, I will come back to help you after.” “Alright.” You nodded, but he never came back, in fact that was the last conversation that you had before he died. Touka found you after the fighting settled and helped you back to the others.

Now he was standing in front of you again with a cover over the bottom half of his face, he went off with Kaneki first of course, you didn’t actually bother to approach him, sure that he wouldn’t want to talk to you especially not after it was finally confirmed that you were a ghoul.

You were up on the roof, it had been a while since you could just enjoy the sun “it’s really been that long?” The voice startled you, it’s slightly tinny undertone giving a clear indication as to who it was. “It’s been that long since I’ve been able to enjoy it.” You nodded leaning against the railing. “I never came back for you that night.” He said. “You were indisposed.” You reminded him. “I still worried, you weren’t someone who spent too much time in the CCG radio waves so I didn’t know if you were even alive after the raid.” He explained. “And then I got a look at my face and figured it would be better if I just left you alone.” “Your face?” You asked. “I…” He stopped as he looked down “I never regretted saving Kaneki the way that I did.” “That doesn’t mean that you can’t mourn what you l have lost.” You answered shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “So how come you never did?” He asked. “I…” You wanted to have some profound reason, but in all honesty you had lost so much that you were afraid, you started making excuses since your father disappeared and now it just felt like most of the problems had resolved themselves and there was no reason to mourn them anymore. “I’m glad that you are alive.” Hide finally said. “You are?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked. “I spent so much time lying to you.” You finally looked over at him and the moment that you did you could see that he wasn’t angry at you, his eyes hadn’t changed he still looked at you the same way. “You never lied to me.” He said. “You never said that you weren’t a ghoul and I saw everything that CCG had on you, you never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” “You give me too much credit.” You said softly, he moved forward for a second but then stopped. “What?” “I wanted to do something that I can’t.” He answered. “What?” You asked. “Kiss you.” He answered, you assumed that this had something to do with the injury that he was hiding under the mask, so instead you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. As you stepped back you took his hands in yours wrapping them around your waist. “There are other ways to show that you care.” You said softly. “I’m not sure that you would feel the same after see what’s under here.” Hide muttered and you shook your head. “I would have said the same thing about you finding out I’m a ghoul.” You said softly as you pressed your forehead to his chest. “Humans can surprise you.” He tightened his hold on you. “Ghouls can too.” You promised “and I’ll be waiting to show you as long as you need.”

Request Here!!

[ziracona]

I finally got the intro to arc 2 done. Hope you have fun with it! As always, Tumblr gets the update first but before the final editing pass--a little glass half full, glass half empty ^.^' Enjoy: [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 22,23, 24, 25, 26, ?)]{Some spoilers for original Grand Order run/through Temple of Time, vaguer situational spoilers for later arcs}

.

.

“Roman?”

“Mmmmmhmmmph,” I groan unhappily, unhappy to have heard anything. I shift a little, trying to stay unconscious, because it’s better in here.

“Sorry, but you gotta wake up sometime soon. We’ve got like 100 people with guns who aren’t super happy about the 200 new people we just dropped on them without guns,” comes a woman’s voice, “You and I can take a real rest when we’re dead. Or when nobody’s looking. Which I wish was right now, but.”

I hear her, unfortunately, and I’m awake enough to know what the words mean, so I sigh, then scrunch up my face and drag my eyes open. I do not expect to find the blurry face of Da Vinci looking right down at me from above.

“…Da Vinci?” I double-check, squinting up at her. Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is.

“Oh wow, you actually woke up,” she says, patting my shoulder sympathetically, “I know you’re beat to hell, but, I’d love it if you cared to confirm what happened.”

“…Where is everyone else?” I ask, blinking and trying to shake off the lingering weight in my head. I feel sort of terrible, and sort of peaceful, somehow at the same time. It’s bizarre. Right. I shouldn’t feel peaceful at all right? Because there’s a lot of people to explain things to, who are upset and worried. And then there’s the whole situation to…to try and fix…

I look back up at Da Vinci, since she hasn’t answered me. My vision is starting to clear, and now that I can see her face, I realize she looks…sad. No, sad and happy. Nostalgic? Homesick? She’s looking at me like I have seen David look at me a few times now, when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like it’s painful, in a way that is deeply good.

I…feel guilty, that I don’t know her. For all I know, she could be lying about knowing me, I guess, and I’m not a naïve person, but, I don’t think she is. And it makes me sorry.

There’s a little crackle in my head then, which I feel an instinct to panic at, because, you know, how could that be a good sound for the inside of a head? But then I hear her thoughts slipping through the space between us:

“I missed this. How can I be so sad? How can I miss him so painfully, while talking to him, face to face? I feel like I’m watching a memory, but, I’m not. Not this time.”

My stomach drops as I realize I’m unintentionally getting her thoughts.

“He looks so like he always did. Tired and cheerful and steady. He was our rock, and I’m not really sure I ever thanked him for that. That wasn’t my job. My job was keeping us alive, and giving him a hard time. But still, someone should have said it. It wasn’t easy. I know, because once he died, I had to be him. Dying the best you can for the people around you, and asking those kids who are like your own by now to live, and live happy, with the weight of the world on their shoulders? Is even worse.”

It ends then as soon as it began, with another crackle in my head like static, and I know I did not make that happen, but I still feel deeply wrong. I know whatever caused it, it wasn’t her either, and it was an intrusion; I wasn’t meant to hear it. I wish I’d been awake enough to think of a way to stop it.

I…I should be thinking about how to play this, or that this is confirmation then, that I am certainly going to die, because that’s important, but then, I’ve known that all along, right? And it’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking: “Wow. After everything, you have someone who misses you this much.” I should feel anything but reassured, but it’s all I feel. Peace. Or…gratefulness. I guess if only one of us two being able to remember it all, in the end, was enough for me then, then only one of us remembering at the start, here, is good enough for me, too.

Okay focus. She’s still staring into space. Maybe you can…

“Da Vinci…?” I ask, deciding to act like nothing just happened and hope she doesn’t know, “Did something happen? You look worried?”

“Not really,” she sighs, refocusing her mask with precision and speed, and putting on a smile while making a grand little shrug, “But you sure left us a situation. You try explaining the shit we just pulled to a room of angry mages sometime, and see how you like it.”

“Did anyone-?!” I ask with sudden fear.

“—Nobody got hurt,” she chides, “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned that? Your staff heard what you said before you passed out. We’ve got a bunch of confused civilians, which aren’t a threat, and a Holy Grail War’s worth of heroic spirits, which are, but are too much of one for them to want to start something. If they wanted to try to shoot us, they’d be doomed. And we have no reason to want to shoot them either. So no one did anything. It’s just been extremely uncomfortable.”

“Where am I?” I ask, blinking at the ceiling above me, and turning my head to try and see the room, and somehow only then realizing I’m using her lap as a pillow. Shit. I try to shoot up immediately, but she snags me and drags me back down. “-H-Hey!”

“Easy!” comes Makeda’s voice, from somewhere.

HUH?

“Hold still if you would? We’re sort of in the middle of something,” she says apologetically, and I see her as she steps into my field of view.

That’s reassuring, I think with intense distrust. “The middle of what?”

“Welllll,” says Da Vinci awkwardly, “Heh heh. Uh.” She gestures to the ground, and I turn my head from my prone position and see intensely complex sigil work on the ground. Makeda is holding a brush and ink, and seems to have been in the middle of adding more.

“What the hell are you two doing?” I reiterate, because this has absolutely cleared nothing up.

“We’re doing a spell,” says Makeda, “A divination. There’s a lot of strange stuff going on—I expect with you too, after the way you passed out. I’m happy to explain all of it, but a lot of it seems to be connected to you, so we’re using you as the focal point. I need you to more or less stay still. You can move your arms, and head, if you want!” she adds like it will cheer me up.

“We uh, thought you’d be unconscious longer,” says Da Vinci apologetically.

“It won’t hurt you,” promises Makeda.

I sigh. I know, I realize as I think it, and wonder why I was so concerned in the first place. I guess it’s that as out of control as all of this is, I want as many fragments of control as I can get, just to hang onto. Okay, Romani. Deep breaths. Calm down, and focus.

“Alright, go ahead. But please, do explain,” I add, unhappily accepting my fate. Couldn’t they have just gotten me a blanket and pillow or something?

Da Vinci sympathetically reaches down and rubs my shoulders absently, which in other circumstances sould be incredibly weird, but given…everything. I just really don’t care. I sigh again and accept it.

At least it feels good, and I feel like I’ve been thrown down a flight of steps.

You could have picked a better bench, though, I think just a little bitterly. I have no idea what conference room we’re in right now, because they all look the same, but the padding is too firm for a nap to be ideal. I’m going to be so sore after this… I guess at least Da Vinci’s contribution might save my neck.

“Well, you passed out, and we got to talking,” says Makeda as she goes back to finishing the edges of her sigil circle, I’m pretty sure massively sugar-coating the situation after I passed out, “And it was very easy to pick up that Chaldea wasn’t on the same timeline as us—that is to say—in the common sense. It’s our metaphysical timeline, obviously, but they seem to be a full two months ahead of the rest of the world.”

“So, for them, three days ago was the turn of the year,” says Da Vinci.

“Right.” I knew that part, and I guess Da Vinci can see it on my face, because she nods.

“I thought so,” says Da Vinci, pleased, “Just to cement a few things, can you confirm what happened when you exited the shadow border?”

Sure. Why not. “I got hit with a second set of memories,” I reply, “Both felt equally real, which was very disorienting, because they contradicted. The influx of that much detailed, emotional, and complex information all at once, overloaded my already very tired brain, and I passed out for…?”

“Two and a half hours,” says Makeda, glancing over.

“-Two and a half hours,” I finish.

“And this new set of memories?” prods Da Vinci.

I shrug the best I can on my back with my head in her lap. “About what I think you already expect. It was of being here, when Chaldea went through the turn of the year. I survived a bombing that took out most of the base, and the betrayal of a staff member. Ritsuka Fujimaru’s brother, Akira, and Mash both survived the bombing miraculously, by being rayshifted out. Our director ended up with them—Olga Marie Animusphere. We—the surviving staff—were able to fix enough equipment to contact them and try to help. They’d been transported to one point of history targeted by Goetia, Fuyuki city, during a holy grail war. A servant who’d lost his master helped them, thankfully—uh—an alter, of our Lancer, Cu Chulainn—oddly. They were able to succeed, and repair the broken point in time, just barely. The traitor to our organization, Lev Lainur, attacked our director, and took her out of commission, indefinitely. Then was killed. It was terrible. They’re just kids, and they went through hell with no preparation. I couldn’t be more proud of what they accomplished, or feel more awful, that they had to do it at all.”

They’re quiet this time, both of them. I guess it was more than they thought I’d say.

Honestly, it still feels so real I could throw up, and like a bad dream. I feel even more guilty over that. I get this…free sense of dissociation, to help me cope, and I didn’t even have to be there to see it first hand. God. The poor kids. Ritsuka too. Ritsuka, Akira, Mash, all the civilians—even our heroic spirits, who are tanks among men have all been put through hell. We need a break. They need a break.

“I’m sorry,” says Da Vinci, stopping her shoulder rub to pat me on the shoulder, “That is about what we’d gathered, though.”

“It’s not your fault,” says my father, popping up from over the back of a nearby chair he’s apparently been sitting in, and I just about jump out of my skin.

“Were you there the whole time?!” I ask.

“Of course,” he says in disbelief, “Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you?” He clicks his tongue at me and crosses his arms over the back of the chair to lean on it. “As I was saying, you did everything the best you could, and it sounds to me like it’s been enough. The Fujimarus were ecstatic to see each other, and he and Mash both had a lot to say about how you got everyone through this.”

I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m too exhausted to consider arguing with my dad right now. I guess I appreciate it either way.

“Where are the kids?” I ask as it occurs to me, and I accidentally start to sit up on impulse, and am very kindly pushed back into place by Da Vinci, “—Sorry.”

“They’re outside,” says Da Vinci, “It’s just Sheba, me, and David in here with you. The kids all wanted in, but we forced them to stay outside—both so we could do the spell, and just in case there was anything you wouldn’t be ready to tell them as soon as you woke up, with whatever was going on. We three already know all your secrets.”

“Thanks…I think,” I say, then double-take, “Wait—you know all my—?!”

“Yes. Obviously,” she replies proudly, “Remember? I knew you later. It’s all old news to me.”

I start to say something, but then I remember what I accidentally heard, and I don’t. She looks at me quizzically.

“…When did we meet, the first time?” I ask instead as something occurs to me.

She smiles a softer smile, pleased. “Oh. A few months from now. –Or, a few days, depending on the memory set.”

Ah. I smile back as it clicks. “You’re the first successful summon, aren’t you?”

“Clever boy,” she replies.

“And you chose to stay and help? And became the…’technical advisor’?” I ask.

She nods. “Most of the building was blown up. Why not give me a title? You were the only staff head left. Although, I guess by now you know that.”

“Yes,” I say, glancing away and fiddling absently with one of my gloves. Even if I wasn’t close to everyone here, and some of them were awful people, it’s so much death. And not everyone deserved it—not by a long, long shot. It’s…

“You really need to start watching your health better.”

I look up in surprise to see David shaking his head at me.

I give him something between a grimace and a smile. “If I had any choice in the matter, believe me.”

“Well, if you won’t do it yourself, I will,” he warns pleasantly.

Terrifying.

“You do remember both sets of memories fully, right?” asks Sheba. She seems to have finished her sigil, because she walks back over and kneels by the bench and holds out a hand for me. I take it, and feel her magical energy fill the room like a wave lapping at the beach: soft, gentle, but unstoppable in sheer mass and power if circumstances change. “We weren’t totally sure that after…”

“-Experiencing a temporal displacement overlap?” suggests Da Vinci.

“-It would be smooth,” continues Sheba, “That’s also part of why we wanted you to get a chance to talk to us first. Everyone out there is hoping you’re ‘their’ Romani, but, you’re ours regardless of what information you retained. We both knew you from before,” adds Sheba, gesturing to Da Vinci and herself with her free hand.

“-And any version of you is my ‘Romani Archaman,’” says David, playful inflection on my new name.

“We just couldn’t get rid of him,” explains Sheba tiredly.

Unsurprising. David is a force. “Well, everyone’s about to be relieved, I guess, because I have all of both,” I confirm. Hadn’t even occurred to me that people would be worried about that, but, of course they would be.

“I’m not surprised, but it’s still a relief to hear,” says Da Vinci, “By all accounts from the Chaldea staff, it’s January, and you’ve been here the whole time. Actually—you are on-camera, vanishing, the second the door to the Border opened. There’s a little ‘flicker’ and the you at your desk is gone. The you at the Border flickers twice, like an electromagnetic spike, and then the video is normal, but you’re a half foot to the left.”

“Fascinating,” I say, not sure exactly what that means, “I’d have thought it would be when we finished the zero sail, not opened the door. I wonder if it’s a temporal delay, or if there’s more weight triggered seeing yourself face to face when it comes to time fluctuation than I’d thought?”

“So, convergence set aside for the moment without enough information to pursue it, what’s the point of divergence?” asks Makeda, something in her tone suggesting this is a much more important question.

“Oh, uhm…” I scrunch up my brow, thinking it over, “…The…day I heard about Ur-Shanabi, I think.”

David looks very interested by this.

“It’s…strange. My memories since the Incineration are very strong in both versions, but…the time at Chaldea leading up to it is…foggy,” I continue, a little disturbed to find this as I go, “…I. I hadn’t noticed, until you asked, but…”

“It’s the same for the others,” says Makeda, “When we heard their accounts, we checked some of the readings from SHEBA-“ She pauses to give me a coy smile in recognition of the device being named for her, and I flush.

God, I used to have so much game. The only thing my second life is giving is anxiety.

“—and saw a lot of distortion. After being quizzed closely, everyone here we’ve been able to talk to, only remembers the time before what I’m assuming is the day a version of you heard about Ur-Shanabi, and the time since December 31st on. They have…ideas, and impressions—generalities—of the rest of the time. But, it’s more like it’s there to sustain the jump in time, than of enough material stability to be truly real.”

“That’s so bizarre,” I say, truly fascinated, and again starting to sit up on instinct so I can truly think. Both women pull me down this time. Right. “Sorry. So, the version of me who summoned you inside Unlimited Blade Works, that timeline, I do have concrete memories of the days since I heard about Ur-Shanabi. Which makes the second set the anomaly, I think.”

“I’m inclined to agree, to a point,” says Makeda.

“To a point?” I ask.

“In the other timeline, the one that’s mostly just since the end of the year, did you not go to Ur-Shanabi, or not hear of it?” asks Da Vinci, ignoring my question.

“I never heard of it,” I say, “Which…should be impossible. It’s not like I heard about it in the other in some passing comment.”

I do not love that. Or that they could guess so on their own. I don’t have a good feeling about this.

“Do you think someone meddled with your memory?” asks Sheba.

“…No,” I say, glancing down at her, “I…think someone meddled with time.”

“Yes,” agrees Da Vinci, “They absolutely did. But we weren’t sure if they did both.”

“Why though?” I ask, “Shit—wait! If Chaldea is past January first, then, we’re no longer somewhere we’re seeing the effects of Goetia’s actions before he’s taken them are we? So-”

“-No, we’re still ahead of schedule,” says Makeda calmingly, giving me a smile.

I can still feel her magical energy pulsing through me and the room slowly, in steady beats, like a heart at rest. It occurs to me to wonder finally what exactly she’s doing.

“That’s what we were able to use your SHEBA observational lens to discover. It’s the first—well, second, after making sure you really were alright—thing that we checked. It’s like this space, just the building, is in its own bubble,” adds Makeda.

“Couldn’t Goetia be in one too?” I ask dubiously.

“No,” says David happily. I look over at him. “She checked,” adds my father smugly, pointing to Makeda.

“Really?” I ask.

She nods gracefully, long hair cascading over her deep brown shoulders. It’s been so long, but I’ve never forgotten how smart or how beautiful she was.

“Thank you, Makeda,” I say softly.

“For you? Of course,” she replies.

“So, you’ve already found him then?” I ask as it occurs to me.

“Uhhhhm,” says Da Vinci, and she teeters a hand in a ‘kind of’ gesture.

Makeda sighs, looking worried. “It keeps…changing.”

“Every time we lock on, the coordinates shift,” says Da Vinci.

“He’s moving?” I ask in surprise.

“No. The coordinates shift as if they’ve always been something else. The log always reads completely changed, all two hours of it, in an instant—as if it’s performed one search function, and gotten the same answer. But what’s on the screen changes about every two seconds—it’s half real, half moving, and half make-believe,” says Makeda.

“That’s not…possible,” I say, thinking quickly. I’m missing something obvious, because I’m exhausted, and I can’t afford to.

“No, it’s not,” agrees Da Vinci, and I look up from where I’m still stuck on her lap, and see her watching me with those fixed, calculating clear eyes. I think about what I shouldn’t have heard her think, and for some insane reason, I feel desperate to live up to my own future reputation.

“…It’s not real yet,” I say. It was a question when I thought it, but it’s a statement as it exits my lips.

“That’s what we think,” agrees Makeda, closing her eyes, and I feel an intense increase in her magical output.

For few seconds, we are all quiet, waiting. I feel her familiar circuits where her hands hold mine, and I feel a sudden pause in the heartbeat-like pulse of her magical energy.

It’s like time has stopped.

The energy holds, but she opens her eyes, which glow like a breathing galaxy.

“I’ve got it,” she says in an inhuman voice, and then the tide of her energy ebbs back into her, soft and controlled like it filled the room, and she releases my hand.

“What’s the news?” asks Da Vinci excitedly, seeming to forget she’s holding my head, and bending over so far towards Makeda that her stomach is smashing me.

“Can I get up now?” comes my muffled voice.

“Yes,” says Makeda apologetically.

Da Vinci sits back and I drag myself up, still and sore, and lean against the bench seatback, rubbing my face, and trying to get sensation back in my limbs. Makeda climbs up beside us, on my other side, and, apparently feeling left out, David drags his chair closer, then climbs back in.

“We were right,” says Makeda, to both Da Vinci and me, “It’s a spell.”

“A…” That is cosmically not what I thought was going on, or said. I—I guess she means about Goetia’s location not being real yet.

“A spell…” says Da Vinci, who I personally think from her expression, also did not actually think that’s what was going on.

Weirdly, I look at David, and he, alone, seems unsurprised. What do you know, old man…

“Can you elaborate?” I ask.

“Well,” says Makeda, “We’re not a singularity, and we’re not a lostbelt.” A what? “We’re built a little like one or the other though. Or a wish.”

“Like a grail?” suggests Da Vinci rather dubiously.

“Only in vague concept,” says Makeda, then, reconsidering, “…But, in vague concept, not a bad analogy. The ways in which we are similar to a singularity or lostbelt is in nature—partially complete and partially real, still growing—not in function. Functionally, more like a grail. The same way holy grail rituals have set rules and functions, so do most rituals and big magic. And this is certainly a function of intricate structure.” She suddenly looks embarrassed to be explaining this, to me, I assume because of my rank.

“So, the timeline we’re on has been altered. In a very significant way, from its original. It’s not a naturally occurring alternate timeline, but an intentionally constructed one,” I say, then pause, to consider. “…Any guess as to by who?”

She looks at me for a long few seconds, and then says, “No,” but I can’t help but feel there’s more to it than that.

“Okay,” I say, not pressing her for the moment, and moving on to the question I don’t want to ask, but know I have to, “…Can you tell if this…aberration, is it dangerous, like a singularity? Is it…are we hurting the world, by existing?”

Makeda shakes her head.

Oh thank God.

“Whatever we are, we’re not convergent, or concurrent,” adds Makeda, “Even if we’re not an alternate timeline in the natural sense, whatever bubble we are, it’s its own in the same way one would be. It’s magic, but, it’s magic not growing or building in opposition to, well, anything. It’s…disconnected. In ways that are zero sum.”

“Alright,” I say, feeling a few worlds better, “Then. …Whoever, and whyever they started whatever this…spell is, if it’s still in construction—if the magic is still in process—that probably means we either need to dismantle it, which, if it’s not dangerous, I’d very much prefer not to do, since in this timeline we could save a whole lot of lives by reaching Goetia before he acts, and uh, well, I have to assume this version of all of us would probably die—or, we’ve got to finish it—the spell, I mean—get it to cement—so it doesn’t deviate, or unravel.”

“Exactly,” agrees Makeda, “I think that’s where we should start.”

“Great! A plan,” says David happily, “So, how much are we telling the others?”

I hold up a hand. “Before that—you said this is some sort of spell. You mean magic—not magecraft, but magic. Like, First Magic.”

“I do,” says Makeda, “It’s the only class of magic that could do something like this.”

“What do we know,” I ask, ‘we’ meaning ‘her’.

Makeda sighs and places her chin in her hand, bouncing a leg absently as she thinks it over. “This?” she decides after a moment, glancing over at the rest of us, “Doesn’t leave this room. Not until we’re sure it should.”

I nod, and see Da Vinci move in my periphery.

“Alright,” says Makeda, and she opens the little lamp she carries, and smoke billows out, forming distinct shapes in the air as she sways her fingers through it, like the shadow puppet show of a master.

“Da Vinci and I have matching knowledge of another timeline. That alone isn’t odd. But in it, we know of events and people spanning from before the Age of Gods,” A sprawling mountain and a cloud city appear, floating islands of smoke, desert kingdoms, "to the distant future.” Building shapes from countries around the globe and centuries apart, fell into a timeline. Frontiers, temples, castles, modern skyscrapers, and past them, massive space ships. “We, should be here.” She indicates a modern urban skyline in her set of smoke-made history. “And we are. Ritsuka should be, and she is. Akira wasn’t at Chaldea, but him being here isn’t really odd. You’re mostly where you should be. But some people, are missing.”

Here, she makes a handful of figures out of the curling whisps, and then passes her fingers through them and watches them go.

“What’s more,” she continues, “A lot more, is that there are a considerable amount of people who shouldn’t be in this time, who are.”

Makeda raises a hand to her lips and exhales like she is blowing a kiss. Smoke forms humanoid figures along far separated points on the timeline, and they lift from those places by floating cities and icy mountains and desert sands, and settle into the urban skyline.

“Actually, they shouldn’t be at all,” she says, eyes on something far away, no changes in her smoke story this time, “At least many of them, should never have existed. Yet, here they are.” She looks at me. “And not transported, and confused. Here they are like they’ve always been, with normal memories and normal lives, somehow, in spite of everything, alive.”

“People who should never be?” I ask, a sinking feeling in my chest.

“It will take a little while to explain to you fully, but for now, people who lived in versions of time that only existed at all by destroying the time around them, and whose broken time had to be corrected, that is, erased,” says Makeda softly.

I nod, and keep quiet. I can imagine, since I’d been a little afraid after waking up with two sets of memories, that I could be a version of me that shouldn’t exist.

“Our reality, it’s real,” says Makeda, refocusing, “But instead of starting at the beginning of time and moving forward, as time is meant to, it starts here.” She indicates a point not long before what she’s designated as ‘now.’ “And it grows forwards and backwards from there. No, grows isn’t the right word. It…’becomes set.’ Like a writer starting a book in the middle: the beginning happened, because otherwise the characters wouldn’t be who they are, or have memories of their upbringing, or loved ones they share a past with. But it’s not stable, until it’s on paper, because once the writer forgets, there will be nothing to hold it all in place.”

A terrifying metaphor, I think, but I don’t say it.

“Whatever, or whoever, caused this,” says Makeda, “it hasn’t stopped working. But it’s magic still in progress. At a guess, something has to be…done, or ‘finished’—fulfilled—for the ritual to be complete, and the timeline to stay. If it doesn’t, it’ll collapse back in on itself, and…”

“…And we all cease to exist,” I say shakily.

“Well,” she offers me a sympathetic smile, “This version of us.”

That’s great for the heroic spirits, I guess, but it really sucks for the rest of us. God, especially the ones she says ‘shouldn’t exist’ at all anymore. It’s…a heavy fate, that. Not to be taken lightly…

“And this point?” I ask, tapping the little swirl of smoke she’s left to indicate the start point. The smoke is surprisingly warm to the touch, and almost thick enough to feel soft to me.

Makeda watches me with her bright eyes full of their knowledge and sight. “You, Solomon.”

I am so taken aback I don’t know what to say.

“Me?” I check after a full ten, very suddenly awkward seconds.

“Don’t you mean ‘Romani’?” asks David, whom I’d completely forgotten was even in the room with us, and it makes me jump.

To my surprise though, when I look over, he’s not joking. He’s being pointed about the name.

“What,” he says, looking from one of us to the other, “That’s about when you would have been ‘reborn’ into a last life, right?”

He points and I look at the timeline again, and my breath catches in my throat.

“How many terrible things did I cause?” Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Not terrible,” says Da Vinci, patting my shoulder with one of her gloved hands, “So long as we can keep this thing going, it’s good.”

“Very, I would say,” agrees Makeda, and again, I see in her face that there’s something she knows she’s not telling me, and I’m sure she has her reasons, but it distresses me a lot not to know. This is beyond high stakes universe poker. This is all or nothing, eleventh hour Russian roulette shit.

“That’s not all,” adds Da Vinci, stretching, and looking very gleeful to have her own lore to share, “I ran some tests when you were out because something about Ur-Shanabi has been bothering me ever since the others told me about it.”

“And?” says David with interest.

“And,” says Da Vinci, looking annoyed to be interrupted, “There’s been a change in the world state. You know how in a holy grail war, the ritual is designed so when a heroic spirit dies, their energy is used to fill the grail—to power it, more or less.”

We give our various forms of assent.

“Well, it struck me really odd the Counter Force would let something like that go on so long without proper recourse, and it wasn’t apparently even Alaya that finally sent in the Counter Force Agent we’ve got—Ritsuka summoned him. But, when something like a grail war is on, the Counter Force tends to be less active. Rituals bring their own, shitty ass rules, and tend to be allowed more—some might even say inadvisable –catastrophic damage.”

“Yes,” agrees Makeda, “It’s about the way magic works. Even the universe itself, is bound by rules. That’s why the Counter Force has to use agents in the first place. Even power has limitations.”

“So, I looked into it,” continues Da Vinci, “And the way this thing works, the whole world is…sort of designed to soak power up, from everything, but especially from people.”

“That’s horrible,” I say, disturbed.

“Not really,” she disagrees, leaning forward and gesturing broadly, “See, it’s not like a leech. It’s designed to soak power out of people only when they’re trying to give power—like—it’s in a hyper-high-performance catalyst state. But it’s not forcing anything—people aren’t all slowly taking magic-radiation-damage or something. It’s just wildly amplifying and accelerating physics around energy and its transfer, when it comes to magic specifically. Heroic Spirits, though, we’re made of magical energy. And with the rules around magical energy, and the transformation and transfer of it altered—altered to make the change in form easier, not just when it’s offered from or created by humans, but in all forms. Well. ...”

“The physical structure of anything made of magical energy entirely has become a vulnerability,” I say, mental calculations locking into place, “The same way Achilles’ heel would be, or Samson’s hair.”

“Exactly,” says Da Vinci, way too happy about this.

“Well that’s genuinely terrifying,” I say.

She shrugs, a grin on her face. “At least we know what we’re up against. Half the battle.”

“I suppose so,” I agree a little uncertainly.

“Anyway, the other half of the issue may be that we’re not the only ones to have figured that out,” adds Da Vinci.

“Meaning who?” I ask, “I mean—obviously if Ur-Shanabi had it working, it was only a matter of time before someone else did too, but. The world is currently…well, incinerated. It seems like one problem takes care of the other, in the temporary anyway.”

“Well, you know how when she described what was happening with Goetia, you said ‘it’s not real yet’?” asks Da Vinci.

Makeda raises a hand and gestures to her smoke tapestry, and it begins to curl and dissipate, leaving a few floating ‘islands’ almost, as it were, along what was once a solid timeline. “Goetia’s attacks, when they come for real, target specific points in history, to de-stabilize and collapse the timeline. We know where, from our own memories, and the data we’ve been able to run with the effects already in place here. But the thing is…”

Slowly, almost delicately, Maketa weaves her fingers into the smoke, and then tugs like the is pulling it apart, and the image shifts from a 2D image, to a three-dimensional timeline, pieces splitting away in different direction. Of these, a select few’s smoke begins to shift into shades of pink, and I am sure this must be the ones Goetia has picked, because I recognized the 2004 Fuyuki a version of me has just vicariously experienced as one of them. Other pieces stay their original, almost purple shade of grey, and then a few more begin to turn a cyan blue. These, as Makeda makes a circular motion with her index finger, begin to rotate.

“They aren’t the only points reading as anomalies,” said Makeda, turning to look at me, “Da Vinci is till collecting data, and we expect it to take a while, but…”

“What we know for sure, is the Counter Force is—or at least was—active in all of them,” says Da Vinci, “But as far as we can tell, Goetia wasn’t.”

I look at the blue points on the map unhappily, and let out an exhale. “And…these all activated in the years between now, and 1985.”

Da Vinci gives me a sympathetic grimace.

“Well, think of it this way!” suggests David, “That certainly limits the damage, and narrows down the search area. Besides.”

He tries to reach way forward and tap Makeda’s smoke diagram, and his hand goes right through it, dissipating an image.

“Since what Ur-Shanabi did was considered ‘breakthrough research,’” he continues, totally nonplussed, “I would bet a lot of money that the points before the last couple years won’t have deeply significant change. If they had, someone in the mage world would have heard about it.”

Da Vinci and Makeda both look annoyed by this, but Da Vinci mutters, “…He’s probably right,” rather unhappily, and my father grins.

“See?” says David, reaching too far forward to try and pat me on the shoulder, and just having to latch onto it instead to not fall off the chair, “All good.”

“Well, that part is an overstatement, but, he’s right it’s not an immediate threat,” says Makeda, miffed, and she waves her hands and the smoke curls back inside the lamp she wears at her belt. “In the meantime, you should go talk to your staff and the others and let them know you’re alright.”

“Yeah,” agrees Da Vinci happily, swinging her feet in anticipation while she watches David very awkwardly make it back upright in his chair, “I’ll keep running calculations and try to get some kind of gameplan together. But we need more data before doing anything concrete.”

“I’ll help,” I say, honestly just relieved to have a little breathing room.

“You will NOT,” says my father sharply, “Not until you get some proper sleep! Look at you!” He gestures broadly with both arms. “You’re a wreck! You’ve been up for three days straight, and went comatose from memory bombardment for almost two hours! You’re exhausted! You transplanted a magic crest, onto yourself, then summoned two heroic spirits inside a reality marble, and stayed up for another forty hours!”

“I, uh,” I try awkwardly, taken aback.

David crosses his arms and eyes me. “You and Ritsuka are both going to take a rest. You act like you forget, son, but you’re only human now. The last thing anybody needs is you to work yourself to death. Or past usefulness.”

I wish he didn’t have a point, but I feel like death warmed over. Still… “I should be able to help though, and it’s-“

I was going to say ‘my fault in the first place,’ but all three turn to look at me as one with such a united front of deeply terrifying energy, like a pack of guard dogs just itching for the command sick ‘em to come,that I don’t.

“…I think David is right,” says Da Vinci, recovering her mask of pleasantness first, and smiling at me with her eyes shut. She pats me on the shoulder. “You can come help in the morning.”

“…Yes,” says Makeda simply, but the way she says it has an undercurrent of chilling.

I’m not getting out of this… “Alright, alright,” I say as I feel the pressure in the room begin to grow tense again, and I put my hands up, “I’ll rest. But, I do need to talk to staff first, at least a little, to explain things—and the kids.” God, poor Mash. She is so inclined to worry, too.

“That’s fine!” says Da Vinci, her same eyes-shut smile still on, “Just don’t stall too long.”

“Yes,” agrees David, hopping out of his chair and offering me a hand, “Let’s do that.”

I let him help me up, but the second he lets go, I almost lose my balance, with my legs so completely asleep, and me so dead-tired. The instant I do, David, Makeda, and Da Vinci all make a move at the same time to help me, and I can’t help but laugh, a deep, full body laugh, as I catch myself and then straighten up on my own, feeling a lot better now.

“It’s so funny,” I say, glancing from one to the other with a smile, “I’ve been the most isolated I think I’ve been my entire existence, for months, and now that things have really fallen apart, I’m surrounded.”

Da Vinci smiles back. “Good.”

I nod. “Good indeed.”

As I wait for my painfully asleep legs to get some feeling back in them, I survey the room for real for the first time. “Where are we right now, anyway? Which conference room is this?”

“It’s the one closest to the command room,” says Da Vinci.

I nod. Finally getting a little painful feeling back, I take a few steps towards the door, testing my balance. Ow.

As we begin to walk, my whole little horde of tag-alongs staying suspiciously within ‘he might fall again’ distance, David says, “Question, Miss Da Vinci. You seemed to know Ritsuka, from Chaldea, but it’s her brother here who’s done this Rayshift, which should be how you meet, or met her, in the future. And then you said it was odd for him to be the one in the Fuyuki singularity, but not very odd. So, was it both of them who helped you, originally?”

“No,” says Da Vinci, seeming surprised—by the question, or by it being from my father, I’m not sure, “I’ve never met the brother before, although I knew he existed.”

“Interesting,” says David.

Interesting indeed.

“Where are the kids?” I ask.

“Didn’t I tell you?” asks Da Vinci, “They’re outside.”

“W—You mean in the hall?” I ask, taken aback, “They’re not resting?” Ritsuka is dead on her feet, and Akira and Mash just returned from a rayshift like three hours before we arrived!

Da Vinci shrugs. “Like father like-” She stops and almost seems a little flustered, then just offers me an impish grin.

Weird, I think, since it’s really no secret I see Mash as a daughter, to anyone. I guess I probably deserve that though. …Damn it! WHY didn’t I do a better job at teaching her to prioritize her health? Stupid! Kids watch what you DO, not just what you say! Stupid stupid! Bad job, Romani! Bad job!!

“Okay, well, let’s fix that too,” I say, increasing speed towards the door. God knows we ask enough of them as it is. I hope they haven’t been too exhausted and miserable out there.

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

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” says Akira, beaming at me, “I mean, what are the chances?!”

“I know!” I chirp. I’ve been grinning so hard the past few hours that it hurts my cheeks, but I’ll never stop! “And you?! Holy crap! The Last Master of Humanity??”

“No-no!” he corrects, his mouth full of the pb&j he’s been working, raising a hand and then pointing from me to him, “The Last Masters of Humanity.”

I laugh.

“Like, go Fujimaru twins, am I right?” he asks, mouth even fuller as he takes another bite.

I elbow him. “Don’t do that! Didn’t dad teach you manners? Not in front of a kouhai!”

He chokes on the pb&j and desperately grabs his milk bottle to help wash it down, then after a solid swallow, gives his friend an apologetic little, “Sorry Mash.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” she replies hurriedly, flushing at us both, “I know you’re hungry and tired.”

“Well, you must be too, right?” I say, offering her a box of pocky.

Hesitantly, the purple haired girl just a year or so younger than me, takes the box and opens it, giving me a little smile.

Mash is neat. We’ve all only been talking for like, two hours or something—it can’t possibly have been that long since my group even arrived—but, I like her. Somehow, she feels like somebody I’ve known all my life. I guess she just must be that kind of person. And, it makes me happy. And relieved.

She’s timid, and quiet. Big eyes, soft voice, always watching the stuff around her like a baby deer taking in the world. But, from Akira’s stories I’ve been getting, she’s also like, super brave and dependable. And a ‘Demi-Servant,’ which, as far as I gather, is a heroic spirit kind of reverse-possessing someone, so instead of them getting the body, they let a normal living human use their power. Apparently, back when the building exploded, Mash got trapped under a fallen pillar, and my brother went and was going to die like a hero holding her hand while another bomb went off, so she wouldn’t be alone (a story she told me trying not to cry, and while staring firmly at the ground, while he turned the reddest I’ve ever seen him, and also looked so, so smug). But instead of either dying, they were saved by whoever is letting Mash use their heroic spirit power, and got rayshifted out.

Rayshifted, as far as I gather, is like teleporting and time travel. Okay, mechanically, it’s more like going to another plane in D&D, where you’ve got a thread connecting your body to a duplicate body, but if one dies the other is in big trouble—you know what—I don’t get all the science. Miss Da Vinci said you’re broken down into your spiritrons, and those are transported to other coordinates in time and space, and re-assembled. So, I wouldn’t know how to do it, but, I get what it does, which I think for me is the important half.

Anyway, when time got incinerated in the city, apparently it was because specific points in history were getting messed up, and my bro and Mash went and repaired one. So one ‘Singularity’ is now stabilized, and, if they fix them all, the world will come back.

So far, it’s been a crazy ride—I mean, his story might be even wilder than mine. And we’re both not even totally done telling the stories. We’ve really only covered bare-bones.

But anyway, to me, the important part is that he’s here and okay and alive, and that this can all be fixed. And, that I’m really glad Mash was here. Akira is brave, but we’ve always done stuff together. We’re strong because we were born with somebody to lean on—I think that’s part of why I’ve been able to do so well with these heroic spirits helping me, despite not being very good at magecraft: I literally came out of the womb as part of a team.

Akira’s the same. We’re strong when we have somebody to lean on, and to prop up, but not alone. And, while I wasn’t here, Mash has done that for him—really reliably!

Plus, I think, smiling as I watch her chomping on the pocky with more gusto than I’ve ever seen anybody else eat it, like a toddler trying ice cream the first time, I bet they’re good for each other. He’s got a lot of charisma and adaptability and he knows how to make you smile when it’s rough, so you can keep going. Mash sounds like she’d be there to be a voice of reason, and pull you up when you fall, but might need somebody who can make her feel like it’s okay for her to smile and talk more too. I bet they’re going to be great friends.

“I’m glad he was the first one you summoned,” says Akira, who has already forgotten what I just said, and gone back to talking with food in his mouth—indicating Billy with his head. “He smiles a lot.”

“He smiles a lot?” I echo.

“Yeah,” agrees Akira, giving me a grin, “You don’t have me there to crack jokes when you need them, so you need somebody else to remind you it could always have been worse, and it’s gonna get better.”

I snort, but then I think about it, and I smile. He’s not totally wrong, and even more than that, it’s reassuring. Twin-morphic-resonance. We were thinking the same thing.

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

“How’re you doing, you sad bastard?” asks Lancer, sidling over to where I’m sitting slumped against a wall near the conference room, holding a bottle.

“I feel like I might do nothing but throw up for the next year,” I reply dryly, annoyed to have to pry my eyes open again at all. It just makes the headache worse.

“Well hey,” he says, sliding down against the wall next to me, and slapping me on the shoulder, “You got the world record now, for longest sustained reality marble. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Great. Put it on my tombstone,” I reply, shutting my eyes again and leaning my head back against the wall.

“Oh, get over yourself. You’re not even injured,” he replies in an annoyingly amicable way.

I sigh. “Why are you over here bothering me. What do you want?”

There’s a clink as he taps something glass—I have to assume the bottle—against the metal guard on the back of my hand.

Annoyed, I crack open an eye and glance over. He’s raising a large bottle of what up close I can tell is definitely alcohol of some kind.

“Come on,” he says, “Gotta push through.”

‘Push through’?! I think, irritated, I just sustained a reality marble for almost three days. I’ll kill you.

“Alcohol isn’t exactly going to make a headache better,” I reply dryly.

He snorts. “Not going to make it worse.”

Yes it will, stupid. “What do you care, anyway. Go bother someone else,” I reply.

He rolls his eyes and removes the glass cork, then takes a swig. He holds the bottle out to me.

I’m annoyed, but I’m too tired to keep arguing, and I want him to go away, so exhausted, I take it, and drink. I'm even more annoyed that it's actually pretty good.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning at me.

Oh go fuck yourself, I think. “How’s the doctor?” I ask instead.

Lancer shrugs. “Seems fine now. Everyone who’s useful at that kind of magecraft is in the command room, trying to figure out how the hell this happened. Everyone else is supposed to rest up.”

Great, is there a bed somewhere then? That actually might help. “Anywhere better for that than here on the floor?” I ask.

When we arrived, after what was more of an awkward than dangerous standoff when the doctor fainted, we were more or less asked to stick around this general area, and it would have been more trouble than it was worth not to comply. Besides which, as tired as I and everyone else are, the civilians who are actual living humans have it worse, and some of them are injured. They were given access to a large conference room and as many pillows and spare blankets as the staff here seemed able to find. Us spirits, and the Fujimaru kids, stuck around near the command room to wait for the doctor to wake up.

“They’re working on it. We brought in almost two-hundred people,” says Lancer, a little more seriously, “And the facility was bombed not long ago, so a lot of their shit is under rubble right now.”

“Bombed?” I ask. News to me. But then, I missed a lot the last few hours. Basically as soon as I could tell there wasn’t going to be a fight, I went to collapse and rest somewhere, with as much dignity as I could, before my core knocked me out completely.

“Yeah. Right—You left,” says Lancer, cocking his head and thinking, “Some guy turned traitor, and took out a lot of the staff a couple days ago—to them, right at the turn of the year. They’ve been scrambling ever since.”

I nod, too tired to ask a lot more right now. “Anything pressing, for us?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. You can pass out.”

On the floor? I’m not sure I’m that desperate. Not with this group of people.

Lancer takes the bottle back and drinks, then passes it back to me. I give in and take another swig. Energy is energy, and it’s not bad. Even if it won’t help the headache. I guess I’m physically past caring about that.

“…It’s weird, isn’t it?”

I glance over at Lancer, waiting for him to elaborate. His tone has changed. It’s light, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness, study, almost. He’s not really looking at anything I can tell, though, just eyeing the empty hall.

Finally, he turns his face back towards me, and smiles, but I don’t believe the smile. I don’t really think I’m meant to. “It’s familiar.”

Is it?

I’m skeptical, but, as he says it, and I turn my own head to look over the nondescript, white-blue walls, it’s…

“There’s…a cafeteria. That way,” I say, not sure why, pointing to my left. “Two halls down.”

I haven’t walked that way at all.

Lancer nods. “There is.” We meet eyes, and we both understand something I almost wish we didn’t.

“…We’ve been here before,” I say. It’s not a question. “Together.”

He nods, very slowly.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“I…remembered,” says Lancer, thinking, and quieter than usual, “And I didn’t. ‘I’ haven’t been here. I’m sure ‘you’ haven’t either. But some version of us has. Because I remember, a Christmas with you.”

“…And…Robin?” I ask, perturbed by the sudden inkling. It’s not a visual memory. It’s like…information, like the throne fills in when we’re sent to a different area. Or the familiar emotion a smell brings, if you knew it well. “…No. David and Robin, but not you…” I add to myself, under my breath. The hell? Were all of us…?

But then, Da Vinci said that, didn’t she? That she knew all of us aside from Salieri.

“It’s our own future summons,” I suggest, “That we’re remembering.”

“But if it is,” says Lancer skeptically, “That would mean we’re all about to die. Then get re-summoned, and be remembering the re-summoning. We can’t remember the summon we’re on.”

He’s right. “That…seems a little far-fetched. But I don’t know what else it would be,” I say. Maybe I do.

“Parallel timeline?” suggests Lancer.

“Our memories, or, sense of them, is way too keen for that…unless, there’s a reason we’re being allowed this much,” I add, thinking.

He shrugs, seeming to completely relax again suddenly.

“What?” I ask.

He glances at me and smiles. “Ah, nothing. I could tell you remembered stuff too. Figured if we were about to die, we’d both have some kind of bad feeling. Or one of us would, at least. But neither of us does. If we aren’t about to die, the memory stuff is a problem for future us.”

The way you live your life, I think, smiling at the absurdity in spite of myself. He holds out the glass and I take it and drink. “Well, good luck to them then,” I say tiredly.

Lancer grins and holds up the bottle in toast. “To them. Probably gonna fuckin’ need it.”

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

“So, that about bring everyone up to speed?” asks Da Vinci pleasantly.

The Chaldea staff around us trade looks, confused, but glad to have answers, even if they’re answers they don’t understand. The civilians who aren’t resting, and chose to attend, seem to be feeling an even stronger version of the same response. Something like ‘Oh thank God somebody has an idea.’ –I guess I can kind of relate. I flip up the hood of my cloak, and relax a little against the back wall. Even if the situation sucks, it’s reassuring to have some answers. Plus, the doc and his two casters look a lot more relaxed, so, I gotta believe they have a plan forming now, at worst.

In the front, I see Ritsuka’s hand shoot up, and just a half-second later, her brother’s beside her. Da Vinci nods at them both.

“So…” says Ritsuka with great focus, glancing at her brother then Da Vinci, “If our best move is to stabilize things enough we can find Goetia, then what’s our next step to stabilizing?”

“Our next step,” answers Doctor Romani with a tired smile, “Is for you to rest—for everyone, to rest. Those of us who do analysis, we’ll take shifts, so we can keep running tests on the situation. Everyone else, we need to be in tip-top shape.”

One of the kids goes to ask him a question—the brother—Akira? – and Doctor Romani cuts him off with a gentle hand.

“-Akira, Mash, you two just got back from a harrowing experience. Eat, sleep, and then report tomorrow for a physical exam and mental health checkup. Ritsuka, you just helped sustain a reality marble for the better part of three days. After almost dying, and contracting a grail war’s worth of spirits. You do the same. On the subject of spirits, obviously Emiya needs time to recover, but as much as possible, I want everyone else to, too. Rest up, because we need you sharp. We’ve uh—finally—got accommodations and rooms worked out. Sylvia has a print out with room assignments, as well as directions to bathrooms, the cafeteria, and medical quarters.”

“And after we report?” asks Akira.

Doctor Romani sighs. “…We don’t know for sure yet, but, it’s pretty likely we’ll be having to send out small groups to contend with both the targeted singularities, and the new anomalies. We’ll let you know more when we do. But for now, the assignment is rest.”

“Yes sir!” calls out the little purple haired girl—Mash—almost over the end of his sentence. She turns pink and stutters out an apology.

“I can’t believe he wasn’t lying about the daughter thing after all,” mutters Emiya in disbelief nearby.

I try not to laugh.

“And that goes for the Doctor, too! I’m afraid he’ll be out of commission while he sleeps,” says David in a friendly tone with more than a little danger hiding inside it warning against being challenged, “There are other people on standby at the medbay though—don’t worry.”

Doctor Romani sighs again. “Any last questions?”

“I got one, but not for him,” says Billy’s voice in my head, “Robin, uh—everything he said—you got the gist of it, yeah?”

“I did,” I reply, mostly ignoring the end of the briefing in favor of this.

“Well, if some human mages figured out some kind of First Law type magic altered the world state, I can see those greedy bastards runnin’ around breakin’ all kindsa shit tryin’ to get more power—ain’t like mages ever been careful before,” he replies, “But they ain’t the ones who changed it. Too much experimenting. And I believe the Doc didn’t do it. I know the kid didn’t. So who do you think did?”

“Why would I know?” I ask, turning to lean against the wall and trying to find him in the crowd so I can give him a look, “I’m not a Caster, or any kind of magic user, for that matter. If they don’t know, no way I do.”

“Well, sure,” says Billy awkwardly, and I find him in the crowd finally, near the far left side, already watching me. To my surprise, he looks…deeply contemplative. “But you would know who would want us to have a chance to see each other.”

“Come again?” I say, truly taken aback.

“I…thought it over,” says Billy, meeting my gaze, “What got said back in the bar—about how everyone but Kotarou seems to come in a set? Think about it.” He ticks off on his fingers. “You, Me. Emiya, Cu Chulainn. David, the Doctor. Mozart, Salieri. Doesn’t it seem way too random to be random?”

… “I take your meaning…” I offer slowly, “…I do. …But. …No one would. Right?”

Billy nods, looking concerned. “I could only think of Geronimo, for us. But, I don’t think he’s ever even met any of the others. They sure as shit don’t remember him. And I can’t think of anybody else. But it can’t be coincidence, right? Two is coincidence, three is a pattern—that’s the sayin’.”

“Well…whoever did, it seems non-malicious, right?” I say after a few seconds of thought, “Even as much as Emiya and Cu Chulainn bitch at each other, they’re not actually mad to both be here. And it’s a straight-up gift to most of us. I don’t think we need to be worried about it.”

I look across the room at Billy, and the expression on his face says he could not be more sure that I’m wrong.

“I think you want to know a donor, not just a robber,” offers Billy.

And when I consider the re-painting of the whole world going on around us, I realize pretty quick he couldn’t be more right.

“Alright!” comes Da Vinci’s voice, loud through the speaker system, and sharp, snapping me back to attention, “That concludes the briefing! Everyone rest up. We all need it, and it's a big day tomorrow.”

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

It’s quiet in the room. Somehow, it feels almost like being home. I really like it.

I mean, it doesn’t look like home. The walls there are not the off-white of paper walls like I’m used to at home, and there aren’t all the pictures and posters Akira and I hung up on them; it’s kind of sparse in here—just white-blue walls and floor, the Chaldea emblem on the wall, a desk and an empty shelf, and our beds—but, just the same. …It feels like getting in your bed at home does. Dunno why. Maybe because Akira is here, and we’re always okay together.

“Aki,” I say. He’s been quiet, but I know he’s not asleep. He doesn’t like, snore when he sleeps, but he breathes louder, and I know the sound super well. He isn’t doing it right now.

“Suka,” he replies. I can tell he knew I was awake already too.

“…Are you okay?”

I haven’t gotten to ask that before. We always had Mash, or Doctor Romani, or Billy, or somebody else nearby. I mean, I could ask, but he couldn’t have said the truth, if I had, and I couldn’t have either.

“…”

I hear him sit up, so I roll onto my side and look over. Even in the dim light from the hall outside, spilling under the door, I can see him enough to make out his expression, and see he’s looking at me, too.

“…No,” he says simply. He leans against the wall, and tucks his knees up to his chest.

I climb out of my bed, and walk over to his, clambering up beside him. Taking my place next to him, where I always am, I sigh, letting out some real tension finally, and I feel him lean his head on my shoulder.

“How about you?” says Akira.

“I’m not either,” I say quietly, “…But. You know. It doesn’t matter.”

It’s weird. I wish it did, but, I feel selfish, and bad, for wishing it did.

“Yeah,” he says in the same subdued tone as my own.

“…We’re gonna be okay,” I promise, looking over.

He exhales slowly. When he speaks, I can hear an attempt at a smile in his voice. It makes me sad… “Are we?”

I take his hand. He squeezes mine, and we sit in silence for a few minutes, just thinking, and breathing together.

“…You wanna tell me about it?” I ask finally, in the stillness of the room that feels like my bedroom at home somehow, even though it’s on the other side of the world, at the end of it, “About it for real? With all the bad parts, and awful feelings, and stuff you’re afraid to even think? The stuff that wakes you up at night?”

He thinks about that. “Yeah. I would. But you go first.”

“…I got somebody killed. For real, forever. Not because I wasn’t fast enough to help. The heroic spirits helping me killed them, for doing bad stuff. And now they’re just dead.” I think about that for real. About Mr. Toujou. Miss Ayase.

I turn and look at Akira, and see his eyes reflected back in the dim light, like my other half.

“…I feel bad. I didn’t want it. But, what’s worse is…I don’t feel very bad. I know I should feel worse than I do. I know I should feel guiltier, and have tried harder. But, Mr. Toujou threatened to kill you, and Mom, and Dad. He was going to kill me, and make me kill my heroic spirit. They were torturing people. Director Ayase was running that whole place. And I…I saw, what they did to Billy, to Robin, Cu Chulainn, David, god, Salieri. …Kotarou. I just…”

He's still watching, listening. No judgement.

“…I’m scared it’s gonna change me,” I whisper, letting go of his hand to bury my face in my knees. “What if I become bad? What if I care less someday? I don’t want to stop being me, but I feel like I’m already letting myself down.”

“…” Akira watches me a few more seconds, then looks away. “…I saw a bunch of people die,” he whispers, “When that bomb went off, there was fire everywhere. Parts of the ceiling had fallen on them. The walls. Some had even burned alive. The worst part, was that not everybody was dead yet. And…” His eyes tear up. “…Mash was there. A column had crushed her body. Everything in her midsection must have just been pulp, and I couldn’t lift the column, and it wouldn’t have mattered if I could. She was dead, it was just taking a while. And I could hear another bomb ticking down. I was so scared. I wanted so bad, Suk, to live. I wanted to run out that door, and not look back. But god, she was so scared. She was crying, and shaking. I knew the scariest thing on earth, to her, was to die alone. And I knew I wasn’t gonna achieve anything, except a few seconds being less bad, if I stayed to die with her. If I died, you and Mom and Dad would all be so sad, too. It would have been so easy, to leave her. I wanted to leave her.”

I realize he’s crying.

“…But you didn’t,” I say.

“I’m scared it doesn’t matter,” says Akira, “Matter enough? I thought about it. She was so pitiful, and helpless, and I thought about leaving her to die alone, to save myself.”

“But you didn’t,” I say again, putting a hand on his back.

He nods, breathing slowing back down. “I know. …What if I do someday, though?”

Oh. We’re exactly the same, huh.

“…You won’t,” I say after a few seconds. “I know, because I know you better than I know myself. Even if you did, I’d still love you, and I’d forgive you, and you’d still be good, but you won’t. Because you’re glad, right?”

He glances at me.

“You’re glad you stayed. And not just because you got a miracle, and survived. It was scary, when you were deciding, but after, it was easy, right? Like peace.”

“…How did you know?” he asks, shifting to face me more completely.

“I saw how you looked at Mash,” I reply easily, smiling, “You were grateful, right? That you got to save her.”

He nods. “I was really glad.”

“Then don’t worry. You aren’t how you feel, you’re how you choose to be. And you’d always save her. I bet you know that already, deep down. It’s just really scary, the first time you have to act the way you always thought you would,” I say.

“You realize you’re not holding yourself to the same standard, right?” replies Akira with a tired smile, plopping a hand on my head, “You’re worried you’re bad because you aren’t feeling guilty enough.”

“-W—no—and I didn’t try hard enough!” I argue.

“Didn’t you?” he says, unimpressed.

Did I? I’m not sure anymore. I’m so jumbled up, it’s hard to tell.

“You know how when we were kids, you always really liked the character who was the hero’s friend, who got trapped sort of turning to the dark side—not because they were bad, but because sometimes someone had to do something a little bad, so the hero didn’t have to?” asks Akira, “They were such a good friend, they’d even lose themselves, so the hero didn’t have to?”

“Is that what I’m turning into?” I ask nervously.

He grins and shakes his head, like I’m being stupid. “No. But you should love yourself at least as much as that, if you ever started to. Those people who died, it was to protect your friends right? And you feel guilty you didn’t try harder to keep them alive, even though probably there was no way to do it at all?”

But…what if there was? And I’m just not good enough to find it…

I nod, and look at the sheets.

“So if you even did anything wrong, which I think you didn’t, even a little, you only did it to protect somebody you love,” says Akira, like it’s so easy, “You put them before an ideal that was gonna hurt them. That’s not bad. That’s love. You’ve always been good, and you always will be Ritsuka. And if you ever have to do things you wish you didn’t, I already know the only reason you’re gonna do them is so someone like me doesn’t have to. I hope you never, ever have to do that again. But if you do, thank you.”

He reaches over, and he pulls me into a hug.

It’s a little unexpected, since we were talking, but, I think I needed it. I feel the urge to cry build up in my throat, and lean in against him, wrapping my arms around his back.

“I know you want to save everybody, and have everybody be good, and never hurt anyone at all,” whispers Akira, “You want to love everybody, and see it all turns out alright. So thank you, for taking a bullet for everybody else. I know it hurt. And I know it hurts to ever act how you don’t want to be. But thank you, and I love you for it. Thank you for loving me enough to do the hard thing yourself.”

“Do I have to do it?” I whisper, voice shaky, trying not to cry. I can’t, so I stop talking, and lean my head into his shoulder, doing it silently.

“No,” says Akira, “You never have to. I hope next time, I’m the one who does.”

I don’t want that at all. I’d much rather it be me.

Oh.

There’s something in that thought that gets through the way the rest of what he’s been saying hasn’t quite been able to. Maybe…maybe not every part of it isn’t bad, about me, even if most of it was. Maybe there’s a little piece of love in there too, after all.

“Let’s hope neither of us has to ever again. I want to grow up a little slower,” says Akira.

“Me too. But so long as I get to do it with you, I think we’ll both be okay,” I whisper back.

And it helps.

In the way my twin has only ever been able to help me.

Akira and I talk, for several hours, when we should be sleeping, but, I think we both need this a lot more. I talk about helplessness and weakness and my inability, and the weight of quick choices, and my fears. He talks about failing to save somebody, and needing to never do it again, and how lonely it feels to survive.

But, it’s not all bad.

I already knew it wasn’t, for me, but somehow when I say the good and all the bad together to Akira, I really hear how much is good in a different way—even with the parts that are bad; like, how I was so scared Toujou would kill him and Mom and Dad, and how Emiya said he wouldn’t blame me if I made him die there to save them, and how he thanked me after. How he promised he’d keep them safe from Ur Shanabi, and did it too. How Salieri makes me so sad and worried, and said he’s not like a real person, but I gave him food, and talked to him the same, and I didn’t think it would matter, but I saw him smile at the shop. How Doctor Roman bought the goofiest swimsuits in the gift shop, to try and help me relax, and wore it all through an operation. How I was a little worried about tying my pool of energy to somebody I didn’t really know, but he keeps coming to check on me and make sure I’m okay, and he hasn’t betrayed me or hurt me once. I keep gambling, and winning—I said that to Akira. He said, ‘No. You keep putting faith in people, and they keep proving you right.’

I’m not sure if it’s different. But, I like the way he says it.

It’s been scary. I watched the world wipe away, like a bomb was taking out the whole planet. But, we saved people—people that weren’t alive in the version of the world Akira knew about, here in Chaldea. Maybe it’s only ninety-six people who wouldn’t have made it, but that’s so much more than zero. I’m really proud of it. Even in the horror, we’ve done little things okay.

It's the same for Akira. He doesn’t tell me until the next morning, when we’re getting ready for the day, but, he feels awful for what happened to Olga Marie, but he says he also saw her change—grow—that, in the short time they worked together, she got less mean, and less hard, and he was proud. She said she didn’t want to die, because she hadn’t proven herself yet, but he said, ‘I wish it felt like it might have mattered to her that she did, to me, in Fuyuki…’ I said, ‘I think it would.’ He smiled. And he talked about Mash, who’s shy, and awkward, but she’s brave, too. He said she’s gone from being barely able to say no to a request, to risking her life to protect him—and she’s not just braver, she seems happier. Not that all this bad stuff happened, but she’s really…alive. He says Doctor Roman told him that talking with Akira after the mission was the happiest he’s ever seen her. It would be great, if nobody had died, and she still got to feel that way, but the fact it happened a bad way, doesn’t make the goof part not good.

I can tell he’s different, too. Akira’s impulsive, like me; Mom and Dad call us ‘the tornado twins,’ because we ran around causing messes on accident so much when we were little. I know he hasn’t changed much, but, I can see him thinking hard now, and I know he’s thinking about how to make everybody happy and safe. I wish he hadn’t had to grow up a little so fast. I wish it hadn’t happened at all. But, for parts of him to grow into early, I’m really happy he picked such a nice one.

We talk for several hours, quiet, like we used to when Mom and Dad had said it was bed time and we better not, and we’d whisper to each other through the wall of our rooms anyway and be bad, because we were too excited about a trip the next day. I know they were right, and so is the Doctor now, but I think this time we were too, because at the end of it all, I climb back in my bed, and I hear Akira whisper, “Hey, Suka? I really love you, you know?” and I whisper back, “I love you even more,” and we go back and forth trying to one-up the other for a minute, and then call it a tie, and the room gets quiet, and I really rest for the first time since this all started, since the day I got Billy out, like I’ve learned how to sleep again by talking with my brother.

Maybe I have. Maybe if he can be proud for me, and I can be sure for him, we can both really be…okay.

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

Timeline: Two Months, Sixteen Days, Two Hours Forward. Coordinates: -4.R48X91, -R1.559X46 Graph: 10912.1326

The jungle is dark and full of shadows, but it is not quiet.

That is a good sign. There is nothing more fearful, in a jungle, than the absence of noise. Can you even imagine the terrors it would take to scare every type of beast living in one, into silent submission or flight?

So, it is a clearly good sign.

What is clearly not a good sign, is the man-made structure up ahead.

Kuhaha, I mutter as a scoff in my throat. Irritating, being dropped here for this. Not that I’d prefer a master; I wouldn’t. But I’d prefer some damn idea of what I’m being flung here to do.

It isn’t like planning or persistence are issues for me, which is probably why the Counter Force chose me, but it’s not my job, and I don’t love being spat out by it. I shouldn’t be here at all. And if I’m in the prison tower after this again, I’ll hunt her and that demon down myself.

Still. I let myself melt into the shadows and fade in and out, towards the building. It’s an ugly thing, built at odd angles and jutting out, like boxes of different sizes stacked haphazardly about. I have become curious, so, I may as well indulge. Despite my distaste for the system, it does tend to throw heroic spirits at the more disgusting humans in this miserable world, and I have a taste for blood.

There is movement behind me.

How. The HELL, did I not notice the-?!

Cursing, I swing around, and am uppercut in the face by a massive blunt object the size of a bed.

Shit, I think it is a bed, I register as I fly backwards, breaking through two trees before catching onto a third one with a clawed hand and swinging around it with my momentum, landing back on my feet with an aching jaw.

Fast—hell—too fast! I feel almost no spike in magical energy, but the red figure who attacked is a blur, tearing at me at a sickening speed. Tch-!

I leap up, and call black flames to my hands, raining them down on the thing, but it dodges and weaves, and I see it raise a gun, so I mentally calculate the time it takes for a bullet to be fired and aim taken, and dodge, leaping from the tree I’m clinging to, smack into the path of the gun, because it THROWS it at me! Not shoots! No! It throws the whole gun at me!

It doesn’t even hurt that much, but it catches me by surprise, and expecting that, the red figure takes that fraction of an opening, leaps, and kicks me out of mid-air, through another three trees. I hear trunks snap and thud around me, and curse as I dig my claws into the ground to bring myself to a stop. It’s going to draw guards, like this.This thing is probably their perimeter security. I need to retreat, if I want to at least avoid being identified.

I sink into the shadows, and begin to melt from one to another, and the stupid thing appears from among the trees at a full-tilt run again, going right for me—I swear! The damn thing locks eyes! It’s a human, too—a heroic spirit, it must be, and it’s running at me like a football player going for a tackle.

FINE! If that’s how you want it!

I dash forward myself, and having run away before, I catch her by surprise, ducking under her arm and slicing her through the gut with a black-fame’d claw.

She cries out, more in surprise than anger or pain, and whips around to follow me like she hasn’t even noticed.

Tch. It didn’t go as deep as I meant.

The woman twisted on impact, like even too late to dodge, she somehow knows the best place in her gut to take the hit. This is a pain. I’m not really hurt yet, but neither is she. I need to make this really fast, or whatever is in that building that the Counter Force found important enough to throw me at, is going to come out here, and I’m not a man who likes to rush in blind. I should take this more seriously.

Annoyed, I catch another tree and swing myself around it again, sliding past her as she barrels after me, and slicing into her leg.

Almost too easy. She caught me by surprise, but she’s not as fast as me, just odd.

Moving faster, I tear off into the cover of shadows again, her, single-minded as a bull, plowing after me through the underbrush, then I turn and leap to a tree, propel myself off the side to another, and then from it, dive down at her, tearing a gash across her chest as I go past.

Breathing hard, she hesitates, turning to see where I went, and I use the opening to dash in and swing at her back with a claw, and my fingers sink in and find flesh, just as I feel a vice-like hand clamp down on my neck, raise me up, and slam me hard into the ground

JESUS! How strong-?!

It actually stuns me. Just a split second, but she slams me down so hard that the ground dents around me, and I’m at least two feet down, in a crater, throat burning.

“Hold still,” she says like a mildly-irritated reprimand, and that tips me off like nothing else has. She’s not even mildly threatened.

Shit-

“I don’t need mercy!” I shout, raising a hand towards her face, and managing to dig my fingers into the side of it, drawing blood, but her eyes are fixed on me like steel, and she’s already calling hers out, too:

“I will purge all that is toxic, all that is harmful.”

“I follow a path that is beyond love and hate!” I spit, digging my claws deeper and feeling my mana surge around me.

            “For as long as I have this power-“

“Enter Chateau D’If!”

I do it—I’m faster.

Around me, I feel my body speed up, my mind sharpen, until the pace is so frantic, time may as well stop around me. Wrenching myself from her grasp, I rip a claw up and through her torso, scouring her body with black flames, curses of death. I move at the same time left, right, behind her, above, tearing her back, her legs, her arms, her face; I am everywhere, I am fire itself, I am death and hate in that moment, I am the concept of inescapable suffering and the unconquerable march of the reaper. In an instant, I attack from every conceivable angle, and cover her body in the flames of the cursed poison inside me, then skid to a stop on her left as the phantasm breaks and ends around me, the world catching back up.

You’re finished, I think, relieved, and surprised to be threatened enough to be relieved, No one can survive those flames.

And no living witness to a phantasm, no identity given away.

Her uniform, as I’m only now recognizing it to be, hanging in tatters around her, blood seeping from her chest over breasts and down her torso, past the hole through her stomach, and along shredded leg muscles, she blinks in surprise at where I was, then turns to see me where I am now, as if she can still sense it. Her face is not twisted in pain or anger. Her eyes are red, like mine, and burn, like mine, but burn a different color. Blood seeps down her forehead, and it’s like she doesn’t feel it, the way I don’t. And she looks at me, but not the way I am looking at her. She reaches out a hand, but not the way I reached out mine, and she calls:

            “I shall lead everyone to happiness!”

She’s still using it, I realize, taken aback. She has to know using that much energy would kill her instantly, with my flames consuming her body at speed already. She’s going to take me out with-?

“Nightingale Pledge!”

A waterfall of white flames erupts around her and the black flames of my phantasm that are burning out her life, and behind her, a massive figure the size of a building appears—like her—I think it is her, but made of white flame as well, and with a sword, and she raises a hand and the sword comes down with a ferocity and speed—I try to move, and find I can’t, and it hits me.

And passes through.

I breathe raggedly, reaching a hand to my chest, and I find myself undamaged, only—Wait. My flames have gone out?

They always glow around me and my claws, but-

Shit!

I look back at her and see they’ve vanished around her as well, and as she stands there, unmoving, the slashes across her face heal, and the hole in her stomach closes, and-

Mer…

I see her. I see me, in the Chateau D’If, and—?

“Mercedes?” I ask, taken aback, and I forget for just an instant, to move.

She is on me like an attack dog, her force and size knocking me to the ground again, and I see an outstretched hand holding a pad with what can only be chloroform on it from the smell—Stupid! Poison won’t even work on me! I just used my own-

My back hits the ground and the pad rams into my face, and WHY THE FUCK IS IT WORKING?!?

What the HELL is going on with her?! WHY-?

Damn it! Her phantasm! That’s right—some part of me remembers; it blocks the effects of other—

“Mercedes!” I try, voice muffled by the pad, “Get off of me!”

I could stab her until she lets go, but now that I remember who she is, I suddenly don’t want to; I also suddenly remember she’d probably die before thinking to move, the insane  nurse! Instead, I try to just grab and pull her off, but it’s like wrestling a goddamn rhino.

What kind of insane strength do you HAVE, woman?!?

“Please sit patiently. You are in need of treatment,” she states calmly, pinning me down without mercy, and not budging an inch.

“I do not need treatment!” comes my muffled voice as I thrash around under her, trying not to breathe, “I’m fine! Get off! We’re on the same side!”

“I’m sorry, but you are clearly disoriented and unwell. You may be suffering an injury to the head,” she says with sympathy, “I am not Mercedes.”

YOU BITCH! Do you remember me too, and you still-?!

Shit, it’s getting hard. We don’t exactly do body functions the way humans do, but it doesn’t matter, because her chloroform is seeping in not exactly the way it’s supposed to either. Holding my breath seems to slow it down, but I think it’s sinking into my skin anyway. Also, it’s also agonizing, which it shouldn’t be, because I don’t actually have human lungs! I should be able to hold out until it starts damaging my prana cycle, and instead she’s…fucking somehow forcing my body to think it’s functioning like it’s flesh and blood! “You remember me?” I manage.

She tilts her head and blinks at me, considering my face, staring deeply.

“…No,” she decides.

LIAR!

“Listen to me!” I choke out, “I don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t get off me, I’ll rip you to shreds! We both need to get out of here, before the people in that building get here to check out the massive disturbance you caused!”

She turns her head to look, then looks back at me.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I do know you.”

Finally! Thank-

I relax for just an instant, and she dumps a whole bottle of chloroform onto my head, then slams me in the gut so I involuntarily take a breath, before I can even process what just happened.

Shit…

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding genuinely sorry, “You were agitated and needed to be sedated. I decided the best way for you not to hurt me like you want, is for you to go to sleep.”

“You bitch…” I wheeze weakly, forgetting not to take a breath, with my head suddenly so hazy. This is so stupid. I’ve made so many mistakes in a row, and it’s just because I remember her! This is why it’s a mistake to ever let anyone get close to you—only someone you trust can ever stab you in the back! Why did I do this?! I’m so frustrated I almost do hope she just bashes my head into a puddle now. Maybe I’d finally learn that lesson.

“That’s extremely inappropriate language,” she reprimands harshly, as if she’s disappointed in me now, too. Gripping the lapels of my coat firmly, she jerks me up, and hoists me over a shoulder in a fireman carry.

…this sucks.

“Just…kill me,” I hiss out unhappily. Damn it. My head is starting to feel numb.

“I told you—I am not going to kill you,” she replies, “You need treatment.”

Great.

I feel a gloved hand pat my head. “That’s good. Please remain calm. Your anger was consuming you so much you could not listen to reason, but do not worry; I will find a way to cure you even if I have to kill you.”

“…please don’t,” say dryly, giving up and hanging limp over a shoulder.

“I am Florence Nightingale,” she says, ignoring me.

No shit. “I know…who you are,” I manage between labored breaths.

She glances at me and tilts her head again, curious this time. “Then why did you call me-?”

I pretend to pass out, because I don’t want to answer, and I’m exhausted now anyway.

“Hmmm. Poor man,” she says with a sad sigh, and forges on.

Angel of Crimea, more like Angel of Brute Force Sanity, I think, but I’m not as annoyed as I could be. I’m not as sick as I’m acting, either. The effects of her drugs will knock me out if I’m not careful, but they only worked full force when she was smashing me in the face with them, and with her noble phantasm wearing off now too, I could choose to activate my poison resistance and shake off the effects. The thing is, though, I actually don’t really mind letting her have her fun, and just going along with whatever it is she’s planning. I could fight back now, or break free, and run away, but I don’t really have a reason to.  I mean, she’s not going to kill me, no matter what she said; she just isn’t like that—and it isn’t like Alaya gave me instructions, so if it can’t be bothered to lift a finger, why should I run around slaving for some malicious god? Besides, as much of a pain as that crazy nurse can be, she can also be fun, and the fact she’s here at all is interesting.

The fact both of us are?

Maybe there is a reason, I think, contented, and I begin to plot.

[loungemermaid]

No.1 Everlark Shipper

for @jhsgf82, based off this post by @goldrushenthusiast and some of the tags/replies I left on there. crossposted to my ao3!!

We’re standing in the disgustingly hot July heat, the sun beating down on us, already burning the tops of our noses. Really, for the sake of all us Townies, the town square should be covered. I’m pale enough, but some of these kids, like little Lottie Sayers over there, are too white to be outside now. She looks like she’s going to burst into flames at any second. I look around at the sea of sweaty necks and brows, looking for a dark braid instead a blonde one. Not for me. For my idiot brother. Everdeen has her hair up in a crown of braids today, and she’s in a pretty little dress, shows off her little waist. The hair and dress make her look sweet, maybe flirty, but she’s (as always) scowling. Can’t imagine why Peeta likes her. She looks fuckin’ mean. Stuck up. Also, the fact she can kill things and drag ‘em through town? Something tells me you’d have to make sure you toed the line with her, or else. Kinda like how Mama is to him. Well maybe that’s it then.

I have heard about Everdeen for comin’ on Eleven Goddamn Years now. I know everything there is to know about this chick that can be known without actually saying a word to her, because he’s never said a word to her. I’ve seen the sketches, the letters, the truly awful attempts at poetry, the (admittedly, pretty good) pencil drawings that took weeks for him to finish scattered across our room for Eleven Years. I’ve heard the soliloquies(see, Mrs. Marks? I’m payin’ attention) practiced in the mirror, the grand planned gestures, the paper flowers and ribbons gathered and then abandoned after Sweetheart’s Day, every instance of young tender love and I could not be more sick of it. It ain’t-isn’t. Isn’t real. Not a lick of it. If it was, he’d talk to her. If she’s too scary, which again, she sure as shit looks that scary, maybe move on? Maybe pick someone different? Hell, it can even be another Seam girl, if that’s what he’s into. Leevy’s got that same little tits and long legs thing. And she actually smiles. But whatever. One day something will break it, and then I won’t have to fuckin’ hear it ever again. 

That weird Trinket woman is just about to pick the girl’s name, and I’m still wondering what it takes to get someone’s hair that big, that pink, that shiny when she reads out the slip. Primrose Everdeen. Well. Shit. I don’t know what this is gonna mean, when her little sister dies. When her dad died, Peeta talked for months about how we needed to help her. I kept telling him it wasn’t the time or place, that the last thing she needed was some over-enthusiastic Townie meddling in her shit. She already had it rough enough. We could tell she was taking care of everyone now. That her mama wasn’t doin shit, and she was the breadwinner now. I remember thinking it was weird, and how I couldn’t imagine it, then I thought about how that’s just what older siblings do. That that’s what Rye does for Peeta and me. A buffer for when Mama’s on the war path. Even when she ain’t-isn’t. Isn’t coming after me, he protects me all the same. She usually doesn’t come after me, and that somehow feels worse. I owe ‘em both a lot of beatings. Rye used to take the blame sometimes, but we all kinda quickly realized I could get away with significantly more than he could, and especially more than Peeta could, poor fucking kid. Never understood why she hates him so much.

There’s some screaming and shuffling, and I look over and there she is, her face showing real emotion for once, screaming that she’s volunteering. I can’t imagine that. How would you ever do that? And then it sinks in. Shit. Everdeen is gonna die. I look over at Peeta, who looks like he’s gonna spew. Shit. What am I even gonna say to him, when this is over? While we walk home?  Happy fucking birthday! That girl you’ve been obsessed with your whole life is gonna get gutted by some teen-freak Career. It’s too awful. I just sigh and brace for the boy’s name. Almost over. One more year of it for me, two for him. 

And then that pink and green bitch calls his name. I’m shocked. I can’t move, or see, or hear anything, and then it’s too late. He’s up on the stage and it’s too late. I can’t volunteer, can’t save him, can’t fix it. Once again he’s getting more punishment than his fair share. This kid that cries when he sees a hurt wild dog. That cried when he learned we ate our baby pigs. That’s been in love with the same girl for eleven years. The girl that’s going in with him. Shit!!! She’s going in with him!! They’re gonna die in there together. Well, I think darkly, they’re gonna have to talk now. 

I go and look for Rye, and we both just stare at each other. He’s not saying it, but he’s thinking it. “Yeah, I know. I should’ve. I… I couldn’t make the words come.” I hate myself.

I’m expecting him to scold me, to yell. Being the parent’s favorite makes me the least favorite brother. They neither one like me much. Well, that ain’t-isn’t true. They like me just fine. They’re just very jealous. I would be too, if I was-were gettin’ beat for minor shit that don’t even matter, and someone else wasn’t. I don’t expect him to hug me. He does, pulling me in close, even kissing my forehead like he did when I was little. I don’t even wipe it off this time.

“Hush. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do anything right neither.”

He smiles a little. “Either, you mean. But it doesn’t matter. It’s going to be okay. Besides, I think she’d kill him, if you went in instead. It wouldn’t be a good sacrifice. She’d hate him even more, especially if you didn’t come back.” He shook his head. “God help me for what I’m gonna say, but it’s better this way. If he comes back, JoAnn won’t think he’s worthless anymore. If he doesn’t”, his breath shudders, “if he doesn’t, well. Then she never touches him again.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. The one thing she only did to him. Rye got beat, sure. But he didn’t get touched like she touches Peeta. It… it’s not that she straight up sleeps with him. But it’s…uncomfortable, to even watch. Humiliating. Can’t imagine what it feels like. “Right. Well, ready to say” Oh I can’t say goodbye. I blink some rogue tears. “To send him off?”

“Yeah.” He says gruffly. “Yeah.” I can tell he’s thinking what I am. This is gonna be a shitshow.

It’s worse than I thought it’d be. We’re all standing there and not saying anything. Rye at least held him while he cried. JoAnn is world class, says something truly evil. Says she’s rooting for Everdeen, and if there was any fondness I ever had for that woman, it’s done. She runs out, even though all the rest of us are begging her to not. I scoff, but Peeta is laughing, no, cackling. Like nothing has ever been so goddamn funny. 

“Love you too, Mama! Hope I get to see you again!” He yells out, voice hard and bitter. “God. What the fuck?” He scrubs at his face, leans back, screaming and laughing and sobbing into his hands. 

Rye runs after our useless fucking parents, trying to talk sense into them. It’s pointless. Anyway, we’re almost out of time. Almost out of time. I can’t fuck it up again. 

“I know it ain’t great timing to be asking you a favor, but do one for me anyway?”

“God, Soren. What?” He sighs, clearly not in the mood for whatever he thinks I might say. I sit down on the saggy sofa, clapping his shoulder.

“I need you to tell her. Please. She deserves to know.”

He huffs, rolls his eyes. “It’s all a bit pointless, ain’t it? Nothing either one of us could ever do now.”

“Yeah, but I know you. You’d never be able to live with yourself if you never told her. So you’ve gotta. Find some way. Do one of those grand gestures you’re always planning. Or, fuck, I dunno, do it private. Over coffee or whatever. But tell her, little bun.” I’ve never called him that. Not sincerely, anyway. That’s what Dad and Rye(mostly Rye these days) call him. But, it felt right. “I’m really sorry I didn’t”

“Don’t be.” He cuts me off. “I get it. Don’t be sorry. In fact, promise me. You don’t get to feel guilty about it.”

I swallow hard again. The Peacekeepers are coming to take me away. I clap him on the shoulder one more time. “Alright. I love you. Uh, good luck and all that. And happy birthday”

It gets him to laugh, even if it’s just a dark laugh. “Thanks. Uh…see…mm. See you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.” I don’t know if I believe he will, but I know he can win this. I hope he does.

I try to keep my promise, of not feeling guilty, for not stepping up and going in for him. It’s not easy. Suddenly our room feels too big, too empty.  Rye and I haven’t moved a damn thing. There’s still a half finished drawing on the desk, a pair of silver eyes. I wanna puke everytime I see them. I do my homework downstairs in the bakery now. 

We’re closed on the day of the interviews. We close a little more now, though not as much as I thought we would. Dad hides, crying in long showers or disappearing on errands, and JoAnn, Rye and I are stuck in the bakery together, avoiding curses and rolling pins being hurled at us. Now that Peeta isn’t here, I’m getting on her nerves more. I’m sporting black eyes now too, though I don’t let them show. I can’t cover them like Peeta does, and I’m a little paler than him anyway, but the little tube of concealer he left behind does fine enough. 

We all sit on the couch, pretend to be a family over some tea and cookies. We’re eating more fresh, a result of the sympathy money. People have been spending a lot on baked goods here lately. The mayer orders a cake a week. Madge must know we’re feeding Prim and Mrs. Everdeen(Mama does too, and she hates it. Dad catches an ashtray to the nose for it). She likes Katniss too. 

Anyway, my baby brother is talking to Ceasar Flickerman, and they’re playing off each other like they’ve been co-hosts for decades. He’s charming. Affable. He could make this a career if…when he wins. And then Ceaser asks about a girl, his whole body shifts. He gets a little nervous, a little small, tries to shift the conversation but Ceaser ain’t having it. He pushes Peeta again. Say it say it say it, you little dork, or I swear to god. I’m staring at his face in the tv. Maybe if I think it hard enough he can somehow get it. You promised.

He clears his throat. “Well, there is this one girl…”

I sink back into the couch with a sigh of relief. There you go, bro. Took you long enough.

She even goes for it. When they change the rules(which I still can’t get over, but maybe young love is more exciting than child murder for those people.((if that’s the case, can we make it a matchmaking game? I’ll volunteer. I’ll host.)) I just don’t know if I trust it) and she’s up in that tree, screaming his name, I know it’s over. She likes him too. She tears through the Arena just to find him, looking very camouflaged and very dead by the river. He flirts, and she giggles and blushes. What? Maybe she’s just soft for him. Good. It’s what he deserves. Hard for everyone else but soft for him.

For a few days I’m worried I’m gonna have to watch my baby brother lose his virginity on national television, but as cuddly and kissy as Katniss is, she’s clearly not very experienced. She won’t change around him, she blushes every time they kiss. She’s actually sweet. A giggly, nervous, even precious little thing. She looks even tinier next to Peeta, so short and thin and fine boned. They fit each other. They’re striking together.

It’s all anyone can talk about, but for the first time I don’t mind hearing about it all. I join in at school, spilling all the secrets I know. It’s a little shitty, but I can’t help it. It’s so…excuse the dopey ass phrasing, but as one teacher said, life affirming to see. My homelife is worse, but if they really can win and win together, it’ll be like a real life miracle. Hard proof that not everything always has to completely fucking suck, all the time. That sometimes, good things happen to people. Sometimes good things happen to the people who deserve it the most. 

The berries give me a heart attack. I’m on the edge of my seat and I don’t think I breathe the whole time. I don’t know what to expect. Are they gonna let them live? Are they gonna blow them up? Send in mutts again? Let them live and torture them on the air? I almost shut my eyes, bracing for the canons, but instead Templesmith is shouting, telling them to stop, that they both won, and he did it. He actually did it. I’m jumping and screaming and laughing and we’re all hugging even, because he fucking did it. He won, and he got the girl of his dreams. This one time, it actually works out for him. This time, Peeta gets what he wants.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla Ecstasy [08]

ー The scene starts in Carla’s room

Carla: ...

Yui: ( ...Seems like he finally fell asleep. )

( Carla-san’s illness actually got worse without me realizing... )

( You think it has calmed down, but the next momennt he gets a really bad attack, so I can’t take my eyes off him. )

( Carla-san... )

*Knock knock*

ー Shin enters the room

Shin: ...Yui. One second.

Yui: ...?

ー The scene shifts to the saloon

Yui: Yes, Shin-kun?

Shin: ...You should get some rest already. 

Yui: Eh...?

Shin: Do you have any idea how much time you’ve spent glued to his side?

At this rate, you’ll collapse. You haven’t been eating properly either, have you?

Yui: I’ve been getting proper meals and sleep. 

Shin: Liar. Then why are you as white as a sheet? Sleep in your own room for once. 

Yui: ...I swear, I’m fine. I actually wouldn’t be able to sleep nor eat if I were separated from Carla-san.

Shin: ...

Yui: I’m sorry. I have to return to Carla-san.

ー The scene shifts back to Carla’s room

Carla: Ugh...

Yui: ...! Carla-san...!

( Another flare-up...The intervals between them keep getting shorter it seems... )

Carla: Uu...Ah...

Yui: Please take slow breaths. I’ll wipe off your sweat right now. 

Carla: Kuh...Uu...Yui...

Yui: Don’t worry, I’m right here. By your side...!

Carla: Uguh...Uu...!

Yui: Carla-san...!!

( These are the final stage symptoms of Endzeit... )

( I’d love to swap places with him, but that’s impossible. )

( All I can do is keep him company and take care of him to the best of my ability... )

( Is there nothing else I can doーー? )

ー The scene shifts to the outside of Banmaden

Male Ghoul A: Hey, have you heard? Apparently the Founder King’s illness took a turn for the worse. 

Male Ghoul B: For real...? Then what are we supposed to do if the enemy attacks now?

Male Ghoul C: But we formed an alliance with the Vibora using that girl, right? Then we should be fine...

Male Ghoul B: We can’t know for sure, can we? The Vibora Clan might change their mind if they hear that the Founder King isn’t doing so well!

ー Kino walks up to them

Kino: Time-out, stop right there. I don’t think you need to worry about the Vibora.

I doubt they will disregard Eve’s lineage. 

Male Ghoul B: But what will happen to Banmaden...and our lives here?

Kino: Don’t worry. I’m right here, remember? 

I’ve always done a fine job as you guys’ leader, haven’t I? Just leave it to me.

Male Ghoul A: ...Right. We have you backing us up, Kino-sama.

Male Ghoul C: We’re counting on you, Kino-sama!

Male Ghoul B: You’re our only hope!! Please help us!

Kino: Yeah, of course. I’ve taken you guys in after all. You can rest easy.

( Heh. The Founder King’s reputation has hit rock bottom. )

( I have to show everyone who is truly deserves to govern the Demon World, don’t I? )

ー The scene shifts to the saloon

*Thud* 

Yui: Shin-kun! Is it true that we received a letter from the Vibora Clan!?

Shin: Yeah. It’s this one.

*Flip* 

Yui: What does it say?

Shin: Well...

Yui: ...Is it bad news, perhaps? Like they’re turning down the alliance.

Shin: No. It says that they agree to the alliance. ーー However...They want us to hand you over in return.

Yui: Eh...?

( In other words, I have to go to the Vibora. )

( It only makes sense since I said that it’d offer myself as a means of negotiation. )

( But now that his illness has actually gotten worse, I don’t want to leave Carla-san’s side... )

Hey, Shin-kun. Can our answer wait a little?

Shin: Nah, that won’t work.

Yui: What do you mean? Is that one of their conditions? 

Shin: Well, I guess you could say that. It says that if you don’t make it there in three days, they’ll attack us.

Yui: Three days...

Shin: It’ll take two days to get to their Castle. We have to leave pretty much right away or we won’t make it on time. 

Yui: No way...

( What to doーー )

ー The scene shifts to Carla’s room

Carla: ...So what are you hesitating for?

Yui: Well...

Carla: You decided that you would go yourself, did you not? ...Then you should go.

Selection

→ But...

Yui: But...I cannot leave your side right now.

You are suffering so much. I want to be here to take care of you at the very least...!

Carla: ...Is that your only reason?

Yui: ...? What do you mean?

Carla: I just want to know whether you are perhaps using me as an excuse.

Yui: Wellーー

( I’m not, but... )

Carla: You made this offer yourself, did you not? Then should you not see it through till the very end?

Yui: ...

( If I don’t go, Banmaden will become a battle fieldーー )

Yui: ...Okay, I’ll go.

→ Okay... (❦)

Yui: ...Okay. I’ll go.

→ I shall keep my word.

Carla: Heh...That is for the best. The Founder King’s woman should be brave like that.

Yui: ( I honestly don’t want to leave Carla-san in his current condition. )

( But I decided that I would serve as negotiation material, so I can’t suddenly say that I don’t want to go now... )

Monologue

By becoming a means to form an alliance,

I will have to offer myself to them.

I should have been well aware of that.

but it pains me very much to have to leave Carla-san’s side now that he is bedridden. 

Once the Ghouls found out about my departure,

they realize it meant they would not have to fight as they threw their arms into the air and rejoiced.

They did not seem worried about Carla-san’s symptoms,

but rather were only cornerned,

about whether or not it would directly impact them.

That was the only thing which bothered me. 

Especially after Carla-san,

had showed so much care towards them as his people. 

While being a King (王という立場) may seem as if it allows you to receive a favorable treatment,

I began to realize more and more just how rigorous (過酷) of a position it isーー 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter)- Ch. 3: New Student

The Royal Guard marches me out of Sherwood Forest towards a large field with a brick building. Looking around, this is the furthest I’ve ever been away from home. I keep glancing at the soldiers hoping they’ll offer some comfort, but none comes. When we reach the brick warehouse I see a sleek black limo parked off to the side. I’d only ever heard of cars, but never gotten the chance to actually see one!

The Guard pulls me to the limo and a door opens to reveal a skinny, red headed boy a few years older than me wearing a green cap with a red feather on it.

The ginger gives me a wide grin. “Hello there, miss! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Remus, son of Rumpelstiltskin. I know, not as complex of a name as dad’s, but he wanted it that way. And who might you be?”

My brow furrows and I cautiously scan my new acquaintance and mode of transportation. Careful, Magica- for all you know this guy could take you straight to the Isle of the Lost.

Remus sees my concern and offers a hand. “Not to worry, Miss. I’ve personally been sent by Fairy Godmother to bring you to King Best and Queen Belle’s kingdom in Auradon.” He opens the door wider and gestures for me to step inside.

My face twists to a look of confusion and bewilderment. “What means of trickery is this? Do not insult me with the hope of actually getting to ride in a- a… a car!”

Remus rears back a bit but still tries to calm me down. “Let me guess… a descendant of Winifred Sanderson?”

I open my mouth to argue but then remember to control my temper. I lower my head and stare at my boots when I answer: “Actually she’s my aunt. Sarah Sanderson is my mother.”

I wait for him to gasp and condescend me, screaming about how I’m a witch. But instead Remus gently takes my tiny hand and gives it a friendly shake.

“Anyone descended from the Sanderson sisters definitely deserves a place at Auradon Prep. And if you impress Fairy Godmother enough you might be able to land yourself a spot on the Magic Committee.”

He appears to take my inherited powers with serious respect, to which I am very baffled by. Normally when I’d so much as do a card trick people would treat me with suspicion and fear.

“Um…” I regain my posture and try to act poised and composed. “Magica Sanderson, at your service. Now would you please be so kind as to tell me why I must be taken from my father?”

Remus shakes his head. “Sorry Magica, but that’s not for me to say. You’ll have to take that up with FG.”

And with that he sits in the driver’s seat and starts the car, leaving me to literally dive into the limo before it begins to speed off. After crawling up from the floor onto a padded seat I fight the urge to set it on fire.

“What in the name of Auradon are you doing? You nearly ran me over, you incompetent half-wit!” Immediately I realize what I just said and I panic. “Oh my gosh- I am so sorry! I overreacted, and I have this temper-!”

I hear Remus laugh from up front. “No worries, Magica! I’ve gotten much worse complaints! Just sit back, have a snack, and enjoy the ride.”

Snack?

Now I look around the backset to find a never-ending variety of colorful sweets and candies surrounding me. Each one looks more tasty and tantalizing than the last, leaving me with wide eyes and a watering mouth.

Sweet brambleberry pie…

I look back at Remus. “You sure I can eat this?”

“Go right ahead! Compliments of King Beast and Queen Belle.”

I start to decide which treat to try first, but then ask one more question: “Will I get to see Ben?”

A single hope that I might be able to have one close friend nearby will provide some comfort.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be there. When the Royal Guard called you in he specifically asked to be present when you arrived. You two friends or something?”

I nod, selecting a pink-colored lollipop. “You could say that. He’s been like a brother to me my whole life, and in my case friends come in short supply.” I take a lick, and I’m in heaven! The innocent-looking candy leaves my taste buds in a frenzy of bliss! If this is what life in Auradon is like, I could get used to this!

After I’ve sampled nearly every treat and pressed every button, the limo pulls across the Bewitched River using magic to create a bridge.

“Um, Remus? Just how strong is this… enchantment?” I ask as I look out the window.

“Don’t worry! Limo’s never gotten a scratch on it!”

I frown. “But what about the passengers?”

“That’s… a different story. Some folks lean out too far and get a closer look at the ground, if ya know what I mean.”

Quickly I pull my head back in and munch on another chocolate-peanut-thing. Ok, no more of that!

Soon enough I see the familiar Auradon castle come into view, along with Ben and his parents waiting at the entrance. As soon as Remus parks the limo I jump out and engulf Ben in a big hug.

“Brother Ben! It’s been too long!” I laugh.

He nearly squeezes every ounce of oxygen out of me. “Ah, Sparks! It’s so good to see you!”

The nickname gives me comfort, but then I remember why I’m here. “Good to see you too, but I wish it was under different circumstances.”

By now King Beast and Queen Belle have stepped forward, both with uneasy expressions.

“Ben, you knew she was the descendant of a villain? From a witch?” Ben’s father asks harshly.

“Yeah dad, I know who she is. And she’s still my best friend. Magica’s not like the other villains, guys! She uses her magic for good, to help people-!”

“Like how she set that building on fire?” Queen Belle judgingly asks.

At this point I’m starting to shed my soft, cautious side of not wanting to step on people’s toes.

“That was an accident!” I try to explain. “I was trying to light a lantern for a villager when things got out of hand. I swear on my life, I would never hurt anyone! It’s not like I can cut out the magic in my blood. How would you have me prove it?”

The royals are surprised at my outburst, but then another face appears next to Ben- a shorter lady with brown hair in a twisted updo wearing a periwinkle dress with a pink bow. She ignores addressing Ben and his parents and goes straight to me with a beaming smile.

“You must be Magica Sanderson! I’m Fairy Godmother, Headmistress of Auradon Prep!”

I give her a polite curtsy. “Pleasure to meet you. But please, call me Magica. I’d prefer not to be associated with my… family ties as much as possible. The only inheritance I harbor with respect is my magic.”

“As you should. I’ve heard a great deal about you, dear. Good things, all good things!” She quickly adds when she sees my panicked face. “Your father tells me you are a very gifted witch, but need a little coaching on proportioning your spells. Now-”

My insides twist up and I can only guess as to what penalty awaits me- banished to the Isle of the Lost? Locked in an enchanted tower? Writing ‘I will not be evil’ on a chalkboard until the day I die?

“So what, then?” I look around the room. “What’s to become of me, the daughter of a Sanderson witch? Locked away, swept under the rug, forgotten?”

“Oh no, no dear!” Fairy Godmother gently takes my hand. “You will not be punished for having magic! All sorts of talent is encouraged here, and you will be accepted just like every other student here.”

A… student?

“So I’m a prisoner here nonetheless. Kept where I’m told where to go, when to go, and what to do. All with a bunch of hooligans who will see me as nothing but a wicked witch.”

“No, Magica. Not at all. In fact,” Ben looks over at his parents. “I’ve decided to appoint Magica as my Royal Advisor, my second-in-command.”

“What?” Everyone outbursts, including me. This is an extreme honor, for a villain descendant to be in a position of power.

“Ben, she’s an untrained witch!”

“A Sanderson witch!”

“She’s not evil!” Ben shouts, which is surprising since he’s normally very calm. “How are we supposed to accept new people into the school if you can’t even accept my own best friend?”

The room goes silent, until Fairy Godmother speaks.

“Magica herself hasn’t spoken her mind on this matter. Dear, what do you think?”

What do I think? All my life I’ve been told to lay low and keep my talents hidden, but now I’ve been given the chance to prove I really am good.

“Yes, I’d love to accept your offer, Ben. But on some terms of my own.”

My audience anxiously waits for my response.

“That while I’m attending Auradon Prep, no one is to know that I’m the descendant of Sarah Sanderson.”

Everyone gives me a surprised look.

“Really? Why’s that?” Ben asks.

My mouth twists. “Because… if people knew that then they’d think I’d be trying to use my mother’s Siren magic. I want people to like me for who I am and not think that I’m tricking them into liking me. I’ll still go to magic classes but for now I don’t want people to know I’m the daughter of a villain.”

After giving my request, Ben thinks it over and eventually nods in agreement. “Ok, but eventually you’ll have to say something. The other students won’ just accept that you have magic without knowing your heritage.”

I nod. “I know, but right now I just want to be normal, like my father said. I need to learn to control my powers, I…” Hesitating, I look away to avoid showing my fear. “I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Ben comes up and looks me dead in the eyes. “Trust me, you won’t. I know you, Magica, and I know you’d never hurt anyone.” He looks over at his parents. “So, she’s a student now?”

King Beast, Queen Belle, and Fairy Godmother all exchange glances, then Belle answers:

“I guess she’s in!”

And so begins my residence at Auradon Prep.

[babycharmander]

This is a thought I've had for a long while, and I'm finally getting around to writing it now. That thought is, to put it simply, this:

You are hurting more people by "calling out" properly warned-for art/writing (especially if it's not posted to major tags) that you find morally reprehensible, than would wind up getting hurt if that thing were just left alone.

This is not a “pro” or “anti” thing. I'm not here to argue what is or isn't morally reprehensible, or what should or shouldn't be allowed in fiction. That's not what this is about. (And if you bring up ANY of that in the replies or notes, I am removing those, because I do NOT want this post derailed.)

What this is about is how these attempts at helping people can very often wind up hurting those same people you are trying to protect.

Do you want to keep people away from violent art who don't want to see it? Cool, so do I. Do you want to make sure minors don't see smut? Great! We're in the same boat. Do you want to make sure trauma survivors aren't exposed to content that would potentially trigger them? Awesome! Same here!

So then please, please, please, if you encounter a fanwork that is labeled for something you find disgusting, something you want people protected from... do not take that content directly to those people who would be hurt by it.

Most people who don’t want to see these things already have them blocked. By making a post warning about this thing that was already tagged for, already warned for, screenshotting the content, sometimes posting the thing in its entirety, and then saying "this person posted this Bad Thing! You should avoid it, and tell everyone else to avoid it too!" you are, ironically, bringing it to the attention of people who would have already otherwise been able to avoid it, or who would have otherwise not even seen it at all. You are triggering people by showing them this thing you don't want them to see, or telling people where to find this thing that is harmful to them, and then encouraging them to tell everyone else.

You're discovering a well-labeled book about something repulsive, and then setting up a big, flashing sign pointing directly to that book (and sometimes opening the book to the gross part for all to see), and screaming over a megaphone, "HEY!! THIS BOOK HAS GROSS STUFF IN IT! YOU SHOULD AVOID IT! YOU SHOULD TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS EXACTLY WHERE IT IS AND HOW GROSS IT IS AND HOW THEY SHOULD AVOID IT, TOO!"

Do you see the problem here?

I want to tell you a story: I'm old, and I've been on the internet for a long time, back when fics (other than ones on FFN) were harder to find. And I remember sometimes... you'd hear about certain Fics. You had to be looking for them to find them, and they were usually spoken of with horror and disgust. "Hey, have you seen that Fic? It's messed up."

I, a teenager at the time, heard about them once by pure chance. What actually happened in them was never described, but the sheer amount of weight put on them made me curious. So I looked one of them up. There were warnings on the page. I went past them and decided to see if this fic was really as bad as they said. It was worse. So, so much worse--I couldn't get far into the fic before I started feeling sick. It was not triggering for me, fortunately, but it wasn't good for me, either.

That was just from a fic being mentioned. It wasn't being broadcast to everyone or being asked to be spread around--it was just mentioned in a place where only a handful of people would see it.

Now, though, it's not just fics being whispered in forums and chatrooms with horror. Now these warnings are posted in big, bold letters and demanded to be spread around social media, to get as much of an audience as possible.

And now it's not just "this fanwork is messed up." Now it's "this fanwork is morally wrong!" Whether it is or is not morally wrong is not the point. The point is that the weight of morality causes a feeling of responsibility, which creates a desire to take action. The result of this is people feeling like they need to spread this to everyone, or even to go further, to view the content (and possibly more of its kind) themselves to verify just how bad it is... and in doing so, hurt themselves. 

(As a side note, this can turn into a self-harm practice, with a person exposing themselves to content that hurts them, over and over again, and telling themselves that they’re doing it to help others. It’s a trap I’ve fallen into myself, albeit not with fandom, and it’s not something I would want anyone to go through.)

A lot of the people who wind up doing this are minors or trauma survivors--the ones that the probably-well-meaning people who made the original warning set out to protect in the first place. And they're the ones diving in and hurting themselves by viewing content they should not be exposed to, by viewing content that triggers flashbacks and panic attacks and worse, because they feel like they have to--they feel like they have a responsibility to do this to protect other people.

As a result, no one is protected.

Look... if you run across a fic or art that's not-SFW and/or has possibly triggering or harmful subject matter, and is NOT properly warned or tagged for those things, and it is posted in a place where people who should not see it would be exposed to it, then by all means, do something about it. Tell the person to properly tag the content. Report it if you can. Warn people that, "hey, there's something that's been posted to the tags that could hurt you, please block this tag or block this person to avoid it."

But if that content that you view as morally reprehensible or potentially harmful was already tagged, if it already has every needed warning, if it was posted to a private blog or personal website or some place out of the way where it wouldn't be stumbled across... how are you helping anyone by dragging it out for everyone to see?

If a pit of acid already has caution tape around it, warning signs, and everything else, then leave it alone, and stop surrounding it with blinking lights and arrows and putting up billboards and handing out fliers showing where the thing is.

Someone who otherwise wouldn't go anywhere near it is going to wind up jumping in to see if it's real.

[saiyanlpkwife2013]

Midnight Siren

Chapter Two: Hazy Daydreams

Romantic relationship: Hitoshi Shinso x y/n (female/AFAB)

Chapter warnings: Mild cursing, Mineta being himself, mentions of bullying (if you squint), mentions of headaches.

MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT BELOW THE "KEEP READING" BREAK.

This shit is OVERWHELMING.

Another bus has just pulled up and out come barreling 40 other students and even a few teachers.

Immediately your mind is a buzz with various voices.

Ah, no way! Is that the new chick that’s going to be starting with our class soon?

She’s a real cutie.

Oh, dude! Look! There’s Shinso! I haven’t really seen him since the sport’s festival. 

I wonder what techniques they are working on. I’m not even sure what the new girl’s quirk is.

Aww!! She looks so nice! I can’t wait until she moves into the dorms with us! We need some more girl power with all of the testosterone up in that place.

The noise continued, gradually getting even louder as the students made their way over to the area you were standing with Aizawa. Your mind going from a light buzzing to an intense amalgamation of voices you weren’t familiar with and were unable to sort out. 

You looked at your teacher, waiting for instructions while shifting your weight from foot to foot as you realize just how many eyes are on you.

“Alright students, we brought you here for a very specific objective today. You will be assisting Y/N; however, I will not be explaining her quirk. The less you know, the more likely you will be able to help her improve. That will be the only rule as you mingle together: Do not ask her what her quirk is. Other than that, stay together within this parameter.” Aizawa gestured to the outline that had previously been drawn as what may have been considered a volleyball court or something of the like. “You are free to visit with each other. The more you talk and think, the better. Use this time wisely. And remember: You are here to assist a classmate. I will intervene if necessary.” Aizawa steps towards the other teachers that have just shown up on the same bus as the students. You see Present Mic, Midnight, Vlad King, and the one and only All Might off in the distance. Past them, you see a somewhat confused Shinso who was not able to hear what all the fuss was about. He didn’t seem to care, then refocusing his attention to his task at hand. You eventually see Aizawa join him in what you can only assume will be a very different looking training session than the one you are currently engaged in.

“OHMYGOODNESS, I’m so pumped to meet you! My name is Mina and we are so stoked to have another girl join our class!” The pink girl jumping up and down as she grabbed your arm and dragged you over to meet more of the class that you would soon be calling friends.

“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Y/N. We know that you will be a wonderful addition to our class. Please allow me to introduce myself: My name is Iida and I am 1A’s class representative. If you need ANYTHING, please do not hesitate to reach out!” Iida punctuates his statements by chopping the air, his mind speaking with the same sincerity and intensity as his actual words. Still, there were others buzzing in your mind. A LOT more buzzing.

Tch, freaking extra. I had to come all the way out here to help some chick I don’t even know. If she’s such great hero material, then why the fuck did she not just start with the hero program in the first place?! Waste of time.

You recognized that voice from the spikey blond, the same one who came in first place at the sports festival. Hey, I’ve heard worse thoughts about me. You shrug to yourself, laughing at his little internal tantrum.

Oh, no way!! I’m so excited to meet this girl! I wish I could ask about her quirk. I would love to know what kind of hero she wants to be, what some of her techniques are and what her fighting style is like, and how she plans on improving. I’m sure she has to be pretty strong to have Mr. Aizawa take an interest in her. I’m sure there’s so much I could learn…

You look in the direction of the mental word vomit and recognize the green mop of hair as none other than Izuku Midoriya whose thoughts are racing a mile a minute. 

He extends out an eager hand and rushes out with, “I’m so excited to meet you, Y/N! I look forward to having you join our class and working together to become the next generation of heroes!” 

You smile warmly and shake his hand in response.

Dude, she’s hot. I might just have to ask her out!

You change the direction of your focus and you see another blond boy. I think that’s Kaminari. Proud of yourself for remembering his name even though you’ve never been formally introduced. 

Heheheh. S-she’s got such nice titties. I bet I could get really close to her with all of these people around...She won’t even know it’s me if I pinch her ass.

Immediately, you whip around and see a rather short boy with purple balls on his head slithering his way to you. He stops as soon as he realizes your eyes are on him.

“Excuse me? You were saying?” You said to the pipsqueak as his eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of his head. 

Whoa, whoa. Did I say that out loud?! Not that I’ve never done THAT before but I could’ve sworn...

The lisp in your mind starts to really grate on your nerves, you turn away from him, mentally daring him to give you an excuse to punt him into next week.

That was part of the delicate balance of your quirk. Over the years, you had to perfect different reactions to people when you overheard their thoughts. Not everything thought “at” you or about you was as nice as what you were receiving at this moment (minus grape boy) and over the years, you have had to develop some pretty thick skin. And you couldn’t just ACT on whatever you had the displeasure of overhearing. I mean, people are entitled to their private thoughts. 

But the second someone actually laid a hand on you, it’s game over.

~*~

The rest of the training exercise consisted of officially meeting all of the students in classes 1A and 1B. Overall, you were excited to be accepted by them so quickly and relieved at the thought of actually having met them BEFORE you had to move into the dorms. That squashed that little anxiety you were having prior to officially arriving at the training camp.

Still, the more time spent around the massive group of people, the more your mind started to pound. Overstimulation to the MAX at this point and you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle all of the voices bouncing through the air and back at you. 

You looked over at Aizawa and he indicated that you still needed to work on focusing your mind on specific people so that you could improve your skill. What if you are in a crowded room and it’s dependent on you to locate the villain with your quirk? Sifting through the crowd so that you could easily track the target? If you allow yourself to get swept up in the mundane chatter, your quirk will not be useful to a hero agency.

You nod in his direction, indicating that you understood his instructions and worked on focusing on specific classmates to amplify and drown out.

This is going to take a while.

~*~

Your brain felt numb.

Classes 1A and 1B had spent the entire day mingling amongst themselves and with you under the instruction of assisting you with training. As a result, your mind pounded from the constant chatter, both internal and external. I just want to rest. I just want to go to my room and be by myself. Please, God, I just need some silence.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. It was nice getting to know your new classmates. The group was very different from the support course students you previously shared classes with during your initial studies. Most of the support students would keep to themselves, working on their own projects as though it might be the next big thing and they didn’t want to risk the chance of having any other student get a similar idea for an invention. After all, the more you produced and the more effective the equipment, the higher chance you had for a company to take you on as an employee after graduation.

And it wasn’t like you were anti-social. You enjoyed being around people, the same as people enjoyed being around you. It probably helps that you are easy-going and likable. (Not to mention if tensions got high, you were able to help alter the mood and bring everyone back to center with Vibe.) But it did get overwhelming when you didn’t have a chance to decompress from the innermost thoughts of others.

“Dinner time!” Pixie-Bob exclaimed down the hallway. “Please meet in the dining hall as soon as possible!”

Your stomach rumbles. You hadn’t even had a chance to realize how hungry you were having just spent the last SEVERAL hours sifting through the minds of your new classmates unbeknownst to them. Now that the other students have left to return to campus, you turn towards the dining hall, hoping that with a full stomach, your headache might dissipate a little more than it was at the current moment.

Upon entering the dining hall, you see that Mr. Aizawa and Shinso have already sat down at the table. Walking forward, you take the available chair to Mr. Aizawa’s left, sitting directly across from Shinso.

The spread looked DELICIOUS. Various dishes ranging from ramen to cooked salmon, with vegetables and rice also available. The smells wafting through the air in the dining hall make your stomach rumble again, causing you to blush a little at the possibility that the men you are sitting with heard you.

You take a long drink of hot tea which warms your throat and travels all the way down to your toes. I can only imagine how nice a dip in the spring will feel later this evening.

You look across the table and make eye contact for what feels like the first time since you’ve joined Shinso at this training camp. It’s not like you have had ample opportunity, really only having spent time with him during the bus ride to camp, during which you found it best to doze off. Besides, with the heavy bags under his eyes, it didn’t take a mind-reader to figure he probably didn’t want to be bothered with small talk at the time.

You don’t look away, taking in the dark purple irises that seem to be holding an entire world within them, noting the flecks of violet that are sprinkled throughout. Interestingly, he doesn’t hurry to look away either (something that Aizawa notices).

“Alright, eat up. We have training early in the morning and it would be wise for the both of you to get some rest. While today may not have been physically draining in the traditional sense, mental exhaustion will not be your friend either. And one more thing…” He paused long enough to take a sip from his own drink. “What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t assign homework?” Aizawa posed, not really looking for an answer.

Wonderful. More work to do. I can’t say I’m surprised. But at least I’m not going through his strenuous training by myself here. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself which Aizawa takes as your appreciation for his dry humor. 

“You will both need to strategize the best way you can use your quirks in a combat setting. While we might not necessarily be starting with hand to hand combat tomorrow, I trust that you are both aware of how far behind you are compared to your classmates. As a result, I expect major strides in improving your quirks as it relates to hero work in a short amount of time. You both are bright students with strong abilities so I don’t foresee any issues when it comes to completing the objectives. Otherwise, I would have never agreed to take you on.”

You both nod silently, understanding the weight of responsibility of living up to Aizawa’s words. He’s not one to hand out compliments, so the pressure is on to impress.

I’m still not entirely clear on what her quirk is. I know I’m not supposed to ask but how am I supposed to know what I might be up against if he won’t tell me? I’m not sure why all of the hero course students were here today...but he said it was something to do with her training specifically...Does she have some sort of stockpiling quirk where she relies on the energy of others? How would that make us somewhat similar?...

You listen to his mind drone on feeling somewhat guilty that you don’t disclose your power to him. It’s a catch 22 situation. While it would be nice to have more people of your quirk, oftentimes it can cause them to avoid you for fear of what you might overhear. I learned that the hard way.

Over the years, you felt it best to just pass off half of your quirk as your “full quirk.” Vibe is a decent enough power on its own, allowing you to really set the mood in social settings. This in and of itself can help put people at ease which you enjoy more so than having them feel awkward or nervous around you. As far as thoughts go, nothing really surprises you anymore. You’ve literally heard it all which probably helps you maintain a decent poker face. If nothing can phase you, then there’s really no genuine reaction you have to hide. 

From a hero stand point, if villains knew that you could read minds, they may consider passing false information for the sake of throwing you off their trail. It would be better overall for as few people to know about the true extent of your quirk as possible, which is something that Aizawa agreed with.

You, Aizawa, and Shinso settle into a comfortable silence while enjoying your meal together. It was interesting how at ease you felt around the two of them. Of course you always admired the stealth hero as he seemed to enjoy his role in the background compared to other more prominent heroes like All Might. You valued that kind of humility and quiet strength.

Plus, he was just a badass.

Maneuvering your chopsticks through your food, you find yourself lost in thought, your OWN thoughts this time.

You had a very difficult childhood growing up. To put it mildly, your parents didn’t exactly get along and being the oldest child, you often found yourself trying to shield your little brother from the negativity that seeped in through the walls of your family home. Your parents were so wrapped up within themselves, constant bickering never ceasing and the accusations thrown couldn’t be ignored. And even if they weren’t intentionally involving you, you really had no way to escape their intrusive thoughts about each other...Or the screaming matches that echoed through your home late at night.

On more than one occasion, you “heard” them discussing the difficulties of remaining a family. How things were different before kids, better. How they would rather become villains than remain a family. You heard the disparaging comments they thought towards one another.

And even towards you.

The saddest part was that they KNEW about your full quirk, not just the part that you present in present day. They were fully aware that they truly did not have private thoughts within their own home which only caused the cavern between your nuclear family to grow.

You wanted nothing more than to give your quirk away.

It was so hard not to blame yourself the day of the accident. 

Immediately thereafter, you moved to have yourself separated from your family entirely, to live on your own. Something they didn’t fight you on, which made it hurt even more.

School wasn’t much easier. Kids are mean out loud, sure, but they’re brutal in the safety of their minds. This was something that pushed you to join the support course once you left for college. You hoped that you might be able to develop your own equipment that could shut off the droning thoughts of others, even if just for a little while.

Aizawa notices that you are lost in thought. He clears his throat.

“If you both are done with dinner, I suggest you start on your assignment.”

“Yes sir.” You and Shinso say in unison, standing at the same time to assist with dinner clean up.

“Don’t worry about this tonight. I know you both have had a long day. Just know, I didn’t come here as the cleaning service so you will be expected to help going forward.”

“Of course, sir.” Again, repeating each other verbatim. 

You hear him audibly sigh and you smile inwardly to yourself. His thoughts feel like those of a father. Well, not of MY father, but one I would imagine cares deeply for his children.

He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow, almost daring you to reveal how tender his feelings are for his newest students. You don’t take the dare.

Both you and Shinso exit the dining hall, parting to walk towards your respective sides of the training facility. Before walking away, you pause, thinking something is being said to you.

“I didn’t catch that, sorry.” You say, turning around to look at the indigo haired man.

“I didn’t say anything.” He looks at you puzzled, placing his left hand on the back of his neck with his right hand in his pocket.

“Oh.” Quick to brush it off. Shit. I must’ve heard him thinking. I’ve got to be more mindful of that. Making a mental note to chastise yourself later for your screw up, sure that the exhaustion from the day’s training has you a little off of your game. “I must have imagined it then.” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness in the air. “Well, good night, Shinso.”

“G’night and sleep well. I’m sure we’ll need it.” 

You nod your head in agreement as you turn to walk away.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #19

Midnighter & Apollo - #19 - Repeatedly Passing Out

*

“M? Midnighter? Can you hear me?”

Midnighter groaned, rubbing at his aching head. “‘Course I can.”

“Here, up,” Apollo said, getting his hands under Midnighter and helping him into a sitting position. “I’ve called Nightwing for help. He was nearby running some intelligence gathering mission for Oracle.”

“Huh? Why’d you call Dick?” Midnighter asked. His words were slurred and he shook his head, hoping his healing kicked in soon. The pain was awful. He couldn’t remember what had happened that led to him being on the ground. 

Apollo looked worried. “M, what do you remember?”

“Uh…” He thought back, wincing at the spike of pain in his head. “Not much.”

“Okay. Okay, don’t worry about it. Let’s just wait here for Dick,” Apollo said, rubbing Midnighter’s shoulders.

“Here?” He looked around. “We’re in the middle of a goddamn sketchy alley, Apollo. Let’s go somewhere else. We can help Dick with his mission. It’ll be something to do, at least.”

“No, let’s wait. He’s on his way here. And no one’s around,” Apollo said, a little too hastily.

“What’s going on?” Midnighter narrowed his eyes at Apollo. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

“I think something is wrong with your fight computer. Will you please just stop being stubborn and sit here until Dick shows up?” Apollo said.

That could explain the pain in his head. He rubbed at it again in irritation, not used to dealing with pain for so long. Usually his healing took care of it, but if it was his computer with an issue, his healing wouldn’t be able to do much about that. 

He tried to get up, but Apollo held him down firmly. He glared over his shoulder.

“Don’t be stubborn,” Apollo warned.

“I could beat you if I wanted to,” Midnighter reminded him.

Actually, he wasn’t sure he could right now. He felt…off. His headache was growing worse and he felt dizzy, his ears ringing. 

Apollo put an arm around his chest, pulling him close. “You could try. This will be a pleasant hug as long as you don’t decide to be stupid again.”

Midnighter pressed both hands to his head. “Yea, I just…just want to stand up for a minute, ‘kay? I need to move. I-”

He blinked, looking up at Apollo. His head was on Apollo’s lap, Apollo running his hands through Midnighter’s hair. 

“My…mask?” He sounded as disoriented as he felt.

“I took it off.” Apollo wiped at Midnighter’s top lip. “Your nose keeps bleeding. How do you feel?”

“Fine.” He tried to sit up, but his head felt heavy. Apollo gently pushed him back down.

“Don’t,” he said. “Just rest for a minute.”

He closed his eyes, hoping the aching in his head would stop. It was only when he heard voices that he opened his eyes again.

“-keeps passing out,” Apollo said, his voice worried. “He doesn’t remember what happened. Something has to be wrong with his computer.”

“Can you fly him back to the batcave? With the equipment there, we can take a look at what’s going on,” Dick said. He sounded concerned, too. 

“I don’t know if it’s safe to- Oh, he’s awake. M? Can you hear me?” Apollo said.

“Yea, yea, I’m fine,” Midnighter muttered, trying and failing to sit up. His whole body felt like it was shutting down on him. He grit his teeth and forced his limbs to move until he was upright, leaning heavily against Apollo. “Can’t sleep when that ass is around.”

“Good to see you too, Midnighter,” Dick said. He crouched in front of Midnighter and held up a finger.

“If you ask me how many fingers you’re holding up, I’m going to hold up one too.”

Dick nearly smiled. “No, not quite. Just follow it.”

He moved his finger around, slowing down the movement when Midnighter struggled to follow it. The hint of a smile was gone from Dick’s face when he finally dropped his hand.

“You’re sluggish, M,” he said.

“Just woke up. Doubt you do flips out of bed in the morning,” Midnighter said.

That pain in his head was starting up again. He very firmly forced himself not to grab at his head and worry the two of them even more.

“Can you tell me what you remember from today, Midnighter?” Dick asked.

“Don’t treat me like a child, Dick. I’m fine,” Midnighter said, mostly because he was struggling to recall anything that had happened today.

“I met up with him after he got in a few fights,” Apollo supplied instead. “It’s been happening since then, and getting more frequent. M, you have to be honest with us right now. You keep passing out and I don’t…I don’t know why. I don’t know what happened to you. Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine. My computer just needs time to correct itself,” he said.

Honestly, though, he couldn’t remember. If he thought back very hard, he could vaguely remember a fall and a lot of pain. Had he fallen and struck his head? Had that knocked his entire system off? 

The more he tried to linger on the memory, the more his head hurt. He heard a pained noise and it took his sluggish brain a second to realize he’d made it. He was holding his head without even realizing he’d ever moved his hands.

Apollo was holding him close, rubbing his back. Midnighter tried to push him away.

“I’m fine,” he managed. “Just need a minute. That’s all.”

Apollo and Dick met eyes over the top of Midnighter’s head.Apollo got his hands under Midnighter.

“Apollo, what are you- Stop that!” Midnighter said as Apollo started to lift him.

“We’re taking you back to the batcave to make sure nothing is seriously wrong. You can try to stop me, but right now, we both know who’ll win that fight,” Apollo said, holding Midnighter to his chest. “Throw a fit all you want. But something is wrong, and you’re not going to stop me from getting you help.”

He opened his mouth just in time for another spike of pain to rip through his head, worse than before. He let out a choked noise instead of an argument, gripping Apollo tightly as he waited for the pain to pass.

It didn’t. Apollo’s voice and Dick’s voice both blurred in his ringing ears, his vision wavering dangerously. He tried desperately to cling to consciousness, once more recalling that sensation of falling and that awful pain.

He couldn't remember what had happened to him. But as the pain dragged him back into unconsciousness, he hoped Apollo and Dick could figure it out and fix it, because this was one battle he clearly wasn’t winning himself.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I watched Jerrod Carmichael’s special Rothaniel, and fucking hell, that was good. I’ve been hearing a lot of club sets and podcasts and WIPs lately, and those are all great and I really enjoy them, but it’s been a little bit since I’ve seen a new (well, new to me, it came out in 2022) full and completed stand-up hour, and I really enjoyed that one. It was directed by Bo Burnham, if that helps to make anyone here more likely to watch it. The video’s on HBO, and based on my quick research yesterday, also available in most of the usual places where people who don’t pay for TV subscriptions find HBO videos.

Obviously delivery is always a significant part of stand-up comedy, but I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a stand-up show (at least, not in the traditional format of one person with a microphone talking to an audience like this one was) where the delivery enhanced the material as much as this one. Incredibly how a guy who casually admits mid-special to being a multi-millionaire, who’s filming a stand-up special for the massive HBO, can make you feel like he’s in your living room whispering secrets to you personally, just by sitting down (so it wasn’t entirely a traditional format, doing stand-up comedy sitting down), and doing some things with his face and his voice and his inflection that I don’t even understand but they really worked. He also had some really thoughtful and gentle audience interactions that made me cringe at first because those things always do, until I realized that actually, everyone is being quite respectful and this is working. I mean, I’m sure there were editing tricks involved in that too, maybe a lot of worse stuff happened in the room. But it came out so smoothly on the video.

This is very much one of those Very Special Episodes of stand-up, with a deep personal meaning and sadness running throughout and all of that, and I really like that it never gets undercut. These days, if a comedian gets too personal or too sad on stage, they tend to undercut it, before or after, with an acknowledgement of how getting emotional during stand-up comedy has become a cliché. They tend to spend at least twice as much time sending up that kind of thing as they spend earnestly engaging in it. And I see why, because it has become really common and it does feel a bit awkward and it takes some of the pressure off if the comedian admits that they know what’s happening.

Because so many people do that, I found myself waiting for that in this one. Waiting for him to break things up and say “Yeah of course it’s dumb that I’m getting so emotional, a stand-up comedian being sad about his family, what’s more cliché than that?” But he didn’t, which was much better than any send-up of the format he could have done. Hearing someone have that much trust in their material, that it had enough emotional weight to carry the hour without needing to be undercut.

It was still funny. It got several out-loud laughs out of me across the hour, which is pretty good for any stand-up special. But it was at least as emotionally effective as it was funny, and at no point did it apologize for being that, and it was really good at being both those things.

Normally on this blog, I try to at least remember to put in a vague spoiler warning (usually like three words before the spoiler itself) for major things, but the general rule, as I try to remind people, is if you haven’t seen the bit of comedy I’m talking about and you want to see it, don’t read my post. That’s kind of how I feel about the internet in general. I don’t understand people who complain about “spoilers” online, because if you haven’t seen/heard/read something yet and want to, you should know that you go looking for internet people talking about it at your own risk. I know full well that if I look things up, I have no one to blame but me if I find spoilers. Because of that, I don’t hesitate to post all the thoughts I have about comedy I like, even if that includes spoilers.

But I’m not going to here, because it was so good, and I think it was better because I hadn’t looked it up beforehand. It’s all really emotionally impactful, and would lose that a bit if I went into specifics about the content. So I won’t, because I really want people who are reading this post to watch it. If you want to see it and don’t know where to find it, message me and I’ll send you a link.

A video that came across my feed earlier today reminded me of that reaction image that I used to use every time people messaged me with requests for links to comedy, which I haven't had many excuses to use lately because internet crackdowns on that stuff has led to me sharing links privately but not publicly anymore. But just so everyone remembers, even though the sharing has moved away from public posts and into messages, this image does still apply to my response to requests for links:

[desiderium-eden]

“So why’re you here? Thought you hated Gaea.”

“Hate is a strong word … though I would rather be elsewhere, yes. Not that I don’t enjoy your company-”

“But you’ve got someone else you’d rather be with right now~?”

“Ha … I’m not too sure about that. A bit of fun, yes. But so far, that’s it.”

“Ooooh! You have to tell me more someday. But right. Why’re you here then?”

“I wished for you to pass a message to your … brother.”

“...?”

“His mother’s territory has been suffering under her absence. Family is being gathered to discuss how to handle things. There are whispers of something happening and everyone’s getting antsy… Especially if they plan to lockdown Hell like they might here.”

“Plus, it’s about time someone did something about the damage your father did to the castle.”

“Yeah… I’m surprised they left it like that until now. So when do we have to be there?”

“... You don’t have to go. It is only your brother who was summoned.”

“Aww. I don’t get an invite~?”

“This isn’t a party, Lazuli. It’s to discuss the estate. And … no offense. This is what I adore about you. But you’re not one of us. Not our blood.”

“Maybe not yours. But Mika’s still my brother. And someone’s gotta be a budder between him and the others. Hell, even just between you two.”

Lys tried to find a retort, but couldn’t. She was at least right about his … dislike of Mikhail. He supposed he could argue that he could behave… but he hated making promises he wasn’t confident he could keep. So he bit his tongue. Trying to find something else to hange the subject as his eyes fell to her hands. Or rather the bangle around her wrist…

“You know what they say about you.”

“I’ve … heard a few things. Luckily, they’re smart enough not to say anything too loud. Or close to the capital. I’m sure they aren’t the only ones who think the same.”

“True. You’ve got half of them wrapped around your finger, don’t you~?” he joked. “... Don’t take what they say to heart. They’re probably jealous he’s off the market now. How’d you manage to pull that off?”

She started fiddling with her ring. Looking down at at the table. “Honestly? No idea. Still feels like a dream really. Like one day, I’ll wake up and he’ll come to his senses…~”

"Lazuli…” He frowned. Before reaching out to grab her chin in his palm, forcing her to look him in the eye. “You are much more charming than you admit. Don’t you think it’s time you realize that?”

“... That’s … really creepy hearing it from your uncle… But thanks.

“And ... I understand it’s not the best time to bring these things up. But if something’s bothering you, you can at least talk to me you know. I’m not too busy these days.”

She seemed … off today. Preoccupied maybe. Then again, he hadn’t actually seen her in years, so he may be assuming things. She had a kid now. So of course she wouldn’t be as energetic as he remembered. Still, the feeling of unease was only got worse as she smiled. The same one he’d remembered. 

“I’m fine. Really.”

[the-box-publisher]

Hey, I don’t expect anyone to see this in fact I hope no one does. For some context I woke up this morning to find a box on my desk- my door was still locked and my windows don’t open I live alone on the fourth floor of a building. At first I was scared it was a bomb but then I realized no one would go through this much effort carefully wrapping and decorating this box to kill a nobody. Anyways there was a letter on top of the box that said:

“Dear publisher,

Please publish this story.

Yours truly,

The journalist”

I was obviously extremely put off by this. Who is the journalist? am I the publisher? How the actual flying f*** did they get into my apartment? But I supposed just to play it safe I would publish it just because it was a small request and I’m scared of what might happen if I don’t. I suppose I’ve always been a very paranoid person but what else can I do. Plus who would believe me anyways I’m sure you don’t. So inside the box was a story covered in dirt like it had been buried:

“Story submitted by Mathew Coppula,

I am very strong willed, I always get what I want. No matter what ever since I was a kid everything always had to go my way. It used to be everyone would tease me because I could control everyone and everything except my own body. I tried to be intimidating but my body would always have great timing for “cute” sneezes, stomach gurgles or hiccups. Then when I was 15 I read you could apparently stop your body from hiccups by just telling yourself not to. I don’t know what I expected but I decided to try the next time I hiccuped I told myself to stop and to my surprise it worked! After continuing this for several years it occurred to me that just maybe it would work for other things and with time and practice I found that I could perfectly manually control every part of my body. I quite enjoyed this everything perfectly controlled, neat and orderly. It wasn’t until I went to the beach a couple of years ago I had any anxiety related to this ability (though I shut that anxiety off to). I was at the beach and after not paying attention I got wiped out by a large wave, since I was caught off guard I didn’t have much breath left in me and quickly I was about to pass out, as wave after wave crashed over me I was so scared of passing out, when suddenly a little voice in the back of my head said “tell yourself not to pass out” and so I did. That’s not normal telling yourself not to pass out and functioning without air is not… was not normal. I found recently I stopped needing to tell myself to do it and it just started happening automatically.

I don’t remember how it happened I was just driving and suddenly it was dark, I was so disoriented everything was spinning and spinning and then I woke up in a hospital bed. Or at least I tried to I could see but couldn’t move my eyes at all, I could hear smell and feel but I could not move a muscle. I could feel a desperate burn from needing to breathe but I could not take in any air. I assumed they had me under heavy anesthetic, but then I saw it. The blank line on the heart monitor, nurses and doctors looked saddened as one moved to shut my eyes, I wish she didn’t being here in the dark is so much worse than being able to see. I heard them talking about what to do with me, I don’t have any family and no one to take me. I tried desperately to let them know I was still alive. But it was no use. Now I only hope they chose to cremate me.”

I- don’t know what to do with this. Obviously it’s not true, even if it was how would I even have a written copy of it, it’s not like Mr.Coppula could transcribe it. Why would anyone be so desperate for me to publish this that they broke into my home?

My curiosity got the best of me so I chose to look him up. Apparently Mathew Coppula was in a bad car accident after lightning struck his car. He died hours later in the hospital, it was deemed an accident, an act of God if you will. He was buried.