#this one was the quickest to do for obvious reasons

[russilton]

Sorry but it's obvious Mercedes wants George to be above Lewis in wdc and is doing everything to achieve this. I don't know why you justify this team so much.

I honestly loved your account and your opinion but I just can't agree with you here. Ferrari does stupid things but at least they don't play with showy priorities.

Why would they want that though- genuinely, why would they want that, it makes them no extra money, it gets people yelling at them, and they have had multiple DNF’s for George this year that sure seem like a bad look if they’re trying to master mind this shit. In this race that masterminding would lose them points and money, Merc never, ever, want a situation where they lose money. They are a business.

Merc suffer from successful idiot syndrome- when they do a risky thing and it works out they look like geniuses, but sometimes you do a risky thing, it doesn’t work out, and to everyone you look like morons. Look at Oscar passing George now when he started 5th. George also would have come out behind Lewis had he not ran long with yuki— but as shown ultimately Merc’s strategy was safer than McLaren’s, but makes them look bland when mclarens risk works out. If there has been an early safety car like there usually is, or if he had made overtakes on the start, Lewis would have looked clever as hell for going soft

Tire picks are not uniquely up to the driver, but they are also not decided arbitrarily by the team either- they are made in combination with strategy and lewis’ engineers Mike and Bono, there’s a reason Lewis Bono and Mike will have seperate meetings on Saturday to Lewis Marcus and Chris. They are working in combination but still racing each other, look at SPA— that was not them deciding not to do for Lewis what they did for George, that was lewis’ team playing it safe, and not accounting for George’s team having nothing to lose and playing risky.

All of this is really boring, it doesn’t sound as compelling or spicy as some great conspiricy theory about fucking one driver or the other over as we have had FOR THREE LONG YEARS, but it’s just what’s happening when you don’t have the quickest car and you’re trying to claw ahead of the quicker guy ahead. I would love some great silver bullet that if we pulled would fix everything but it doesn’t work like that. Sometimes you gamble on something with your best assumption as to what might happen, and you don’t get it, racing is boring like that, because you can’t will your way to being be a bit faster like in a foot race, you are limited by the car you have.

I know this is annoying and it feels extra shitty because you can’t do anything about it, and if there’s a greater plot then you can justify that feeling easier, “I can’t get by because they are out to get me” is easier than “I can’t get by bc we just don’t have a good enough car”

But that’s the reality of this sport. And it’s so fucking annoying I get it, you think I don’t frequently partake in “McLaren’s are cheating and redbull is evil and my special guys deserve more” ? Of course I do, that’s also part of the sport. If I had had my way Lewis would have won today I wanted it so badly, but as evidenced by McLaren and ferrari getting by us we just didn’t get it right today. It sucks whole ass but that’s what it is.

Grit your teeth, kick a wall, curse the heavens, move on.

[nugatorysheep]

Glow Week yet again! This time for Rain! @glowweek (My thought was that this is immediately after it rained and they've gone out in the mud looking for weird stuff).

This one is a redraw of Aleth Romanillos' art but with Sven and Connor :3 Its a fun pastime of mine to make edits of official media and screenshots but convert it to their AU.

They're good target for edits because they look significantly different, but I can leave most of the background unaltered because they go through a lot of the same events that Steven and Connie do, in comparison to Leo who has a totally different vibe and early series of events or Druid who has 99 percent of his relevant story happen way after canon is over

Anyway I'll shut up lol

[redr0sewrites]

No Nut November Hcs With The Hashiras

the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)

🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)

🥀minors dni

🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)

Giyuu

when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused

why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?

after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly

not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint

he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments

when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him

claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?

the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control

teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you

giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways

he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off

he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants

Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.

Tengen

im sorry but he is not making the month

he'd last two weeks at best

you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you

quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie

just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed

teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.

"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure

tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all

"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~

Shinobu

Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked

she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her

would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking

she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite

she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened

she's teasing YOU

i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs

she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing

"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"

Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.

i went off there for a sec omg

Rengoku

i think he would make it without too much trouble

i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is

so yea i def think he'd make it

unleeeesssss you teased him

listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you

if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november

it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done

He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA

normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher

i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you

just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?

the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."

Mitsuri

i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling

She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy

you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3

Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose

once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️

shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long

MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG

she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)

tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~

fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.

Obanai

i genuinely think obanai would last like

a week at most

im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything

you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck

or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess

sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back

he NEEDS to ravish you

you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."

Sanemi

he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"

he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you

i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between

Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"

either way, hes not making it 💀

prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH

Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...

congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend

"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."

Gyomei

i think Gyomei would make it

honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease

hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)

hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher

he has STAMINA tho

prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end

if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it

hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS

he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.

Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"

RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO

[bwabys-scenarios]

Who from HxH do you think definitely has a breeding kink and would get S/o pregnant?

HxH characters with breeding kinks(NSFW)

!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!

!!REQUESTS OPEN!!

warnings: breeding, creampie, implied public sex in Illumi’s part, implied kidnapping in Uvogin’s part/dubcon

A/N: I may do a part 2 to this if people want it!

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

Kurapika

DUH! He’s the first one on this list for a reason. He wants to rebuild his clan, to have a family with his beloved. He’s one of the only characters on this list who is very upfront about wanting a family at the beginning of your relationship, and the quickest to ask for marriage.

Kurapika won’t waste a singe drop of his cum, every last bit of it goes towards getting you pregnant and as quick as possible. He’s surprisingly horny, but always soft and sensual, especially after he’s filled you to the brim with his cum. He loves rubbing your cute, chubby tummy, imagining how pretty you’d be with your belly round with his child.

Illumi

Another obvious pick. Illumi needs an heir, and as his partner you’re going to give that to him. He’s also honest about what he wants, and will start breeding you the second you agree.

It doesn’t matter what you were doing, where you were or who was watching, he’s pulling your panties down and bending you over the closest surface to stuff you full of his cum.

Chrollo

Surprisingly, Chrollo is more of a family man than you would think. He won’t mention kids until he’s been with you for a bit, but when he does he has this… faraway look on his face. It’s like the concept of having a family is a fantasy to him, something that wouldn’t usually be on the table for him. But you… he can’t stop imagining filling you with his seed, having children with you.

So the next time you have sex, he stays inside you when he cums, planting kisses on your neck. “I think… you’d be a great mother, (Name).”

Feitan

Now feitan doesn’t actually want kids. He doesn’t hate them, in fact he’s a bit soft towards them(yes, his interaction with Gon WAS him being soft). Feitan just doesn’t think he’d be a good or present father, and isn’t ready for that commitment. But… just the thought of filling your womb with his seed, claiming you in a way that no one else can… that gets him going.

He’s another one that only cums inside you, loving to watch his cum leak out of your pretty, used cunt.

Uvogin

You are literally his little housewife, the taste of a domestic life where he can be someone other than a member of the phantom troupe. Of course he’s ready to knock up his cute wife, it would complete the perfect domestic fantasy he has, of little feet running around the cabin in the woods he placed you in.

Uvogin is already insatiable, but when you ask for him to put a baby in you, he nearly chokes. He’s more than willing to oblige, especially when there’s pleasured tears in your pretty eyes.

[userchai]

The Best Thing In The World- E.M. (smut)

18+ only for obvious reasons, oral (male receiving), cum talk, dirty talk, reader is down bad for Eddie’s dick essentially. This is very short I hope you enjoy it! ❤️‍🔥

You love getting off on the taste of Eddie’s dick , and I mean really getting off on it. To you it’s the best thing in the world. You don’t care that your lungs are practically screaming for one breath, Eddie is your air now. He fills all of your senses until your brain shuts down into some sort of craze, and he’s enjoying himself far too much. He’s standing above you, a smirk splitting his face while you drool around him. Every time the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat you’re squeezing your legs together. Eddie was the only man who’d ever made you cum untouched, and the quickest way to get you to do that was when you’re on your knees worshipping him. “Fuck baby, you’re just a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” He growls out, his ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your throat, he can feel his dick inside you as a sick sort of pleasure courses its way through your veins. You gargle out a muffled, “Yes sir.” Before he’s grabbing the back of your hair, twisting it painfully in his fist while he shoves you all the way down. Your nose is pressed against his pubes, jaw aching to close, but you love the pain, it sends shockwaves to your core as your eyes roll back. The tightness in your stomach finally breaks when Eddie tells you how you’re only a throat for him to use, nothing but a useless little toy for him to fuck whenever he pleases. You smirk around him as your orgasm fades, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you run your tongue against the slit on the head of his dick. The second best thing about sucking Eddie off was swallowing his cum, the feeling of it running down the back of your throat until you choke on it was nothing that could ever be topped. You’d stay on your knees forever if it were possible, with Eddie fucking your mouth like there’s no tomorrow. You loved being his cock sleeve.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Gwyn says hi by the way.” 

Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found. 

Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.

“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began. 

“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.” 

Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”

Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.

“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually. 

“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”

Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.” 

There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him. 

Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together. 

“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”

A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him. 

He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him. 

That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity. 

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”

She grimaced. “I came close.”  

He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard. 

“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy. 

It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose. 

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”  

“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.  

Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.

She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.” 

Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you. 

You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves. 

“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.

You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before. 

Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.

But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth — until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away. 

But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying. 

You shoved against that power now.

“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.” 

He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood. 

It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him. 

Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound. 

You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent. 

Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero. 

Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again. 

You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.

Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded. 

“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.” 

“I can go for longer,” you pleaded. 

“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.

Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—

Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.” 

You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”

“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.” 

Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow. 

But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.

You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least. 

The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.

 Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony. 

No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.

~ Helion 

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.” 

You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object. 

When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown. 

The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled. 

If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky. 

You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.

You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.

“It doesn’t make sense.” 

You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire. 

What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert? 

Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out. 

It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety. 

Azriel. 

You couldn’t help but think of him. 

Azriel was nothing like that. 

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.

No. Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist. 

She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you. 

Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” 

You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom. 

You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you. 

He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home. 

“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you. 

He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity. 

“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.

You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.

Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.” 

You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.” 

The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent” 

“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness. 

He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.

He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight. 

Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge. 

It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight. 

“Like who?”

“Cassian.” 

You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth. 

Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day. 

Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it. 

“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.” 

Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”

His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.

“And? Are they alright?”

He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home. 

He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”

You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself. 

“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”

Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.

“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?” 

“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.

“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.” 

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching. 

You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger. 

“How are things going? With the book?” 

You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch. 

“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.” 

But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you. 

Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”

“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch. 

Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real. 

But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks. 

“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”

“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick. 

You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily. 

Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch. 

“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop. 

“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.

“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows. 

Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed. 

Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing. 

“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.

Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another. 

Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes. 

Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.

Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.

Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.

[talktonytome]

if someone asked me at the end

bucktommy ft breaking up & making up + presumed dead

Buck knows he’s straight up wallowing, but he can’t muster an ounce of energy to do anything else. Eddie’s probably a day away from dragging him out, like he did when Buck couldn’t be at work, after his leg accident. He’s lying on the couch, tracing mindless patterns on one of the throw pillows, as a documentary plays on tv. He gave up watching it ten minutes in. He meant to watch it with Tommy.

He has his favorite Tommy hoodie on and he refuses to wash it, even though it’s been a week. He mostly sleeps with it, but he’s feeling especially sad today. Besides, the only stains that can be attributed are the tears he shed on it.

God, it had been such a senseless fight. In true Buck fashion, he can admit what he did was dangerous and reckless. Tommy hadn’t even begrudged him for doing his job. He only expressed concern about taking unnecessary risks and asked Buck to please take him into consideration, next time he thought about doing something so reckless.

In the heat of the moment, and very much in a fit of good old self sabotage, Buck turned venomous.

“I’m not sure you know me at all,” he’d spat at Tommy. “S-so maybe this is it for us.” He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, but he stood frozen and watched in horror as Tommy’s heart shattered in real time. By the time he came back to his senses, Tommy had left with a sad and painful, “Okay, Evan.”

Buck isn’t totally clear if that counts as a break up, but it sure feels like one. He wants to reach out so badly, but he knows he hurt Tommy and he’s been trying to give him space.

He considers driving over to his place to talk it out, remembers how Tommy did that for him, right before he kissed him and upended his entire world. Fresh tears well at the memory.

He thinks maybe a good shower cry sounds like a solid idea, when his phone rings. He flips it over to see who’s calling and picks it up immediately when he sees it’s LA Gen. He’s memorized all the surrounding hospital numbers over the years, for obvious reasons, the 118 being frequent fliers being one of them.

“Hello?”

“Is this Evan Buckley?”

“Y- yes, that’s me,” his hearts races, but he tries to remain calm, bracing himself for the worst.

“This is Stacy, I’m a nurse at LA General, she explains calmly. “I’m calling about Thomas Kinard. You’re listed as his emergency contact and he-”

Suddenly, she’s cut off by the hospital intercom, distinctly alerting a code blue in the background. “Damn it, he’s coding again; grab the crash cart,” Stacy barks, her voice sounds far away from the phone- and that’s the last thing he hears before the call disconnects.

Tommy.

Buck is barely conscious of his actions, as he races to the hospital. He only stops long enough to shove his feet into mismatched slippers and nearly jerks his key holder from the wall, while frantically grabbing his car keys.

Aside from knowing all the hospital numbers, he’s also memorized the quickest routes to each one. Perks of being a firefighter, he thinks sarcastically. That, along with breaking a few traffic laws, lands him at LA Gen in record time.

He doesn’t remember and doesn’t care if he locked his car, by the time he’s stepping through the emergency room doors. For the first time since the phone call, he lets himself think, wondering what state Tommy’s in- if he’s alive. He has to be, he tells himself, like there simply cannot be another option.

He channels some of the sureness he’s grown into on the job, and tries not to shake too much as he walks to the information station, where a sweet-looking older lady is working. “Excuse me, I need to find my boyfriend’s room? A nurse, Stacy called me less than an hour ago a-and I think he coded. Please, I just need to see him,” he says as steady as he can.

The lady gives him a sympathetic nod and smiles at him. “Of course young man, what’s his name?”

“Thomas Kinard,” Buck supplies immediately.

“Hmm, yes, I see him in the system,” her eyes scan over the computer screen and Buck catches the moment her demeanor changes.

“Is everything okay?”

“Um, you know, this thing glitches sometimes,” she says nervously.

She’s stalling, and if she’s stalling then…

“Anyway, I’d better let Stacy update you. She’s at the nurse’s station on the third floor. I’ll call her and let her know you’re going up.”

She holds out a visitor pass and Buck takes it, nodding numbly. His body’s on autopilot as he reaches the elevator and rides up to the third floor. Luckily, the doors open right in front of the nurse’s station. A harried-looking middle-aged woman leans tiredly against the side and Buck guesses that must be Stacy.

His feet are heavy as he walks up to her and something in his expression must tip her off.

“You’re here for Thomas, right?”

Bucks nods weakly, palms sweating, dread sitting on his chest heavier than the fire truck had on his leg.

“I’m so sorry,” she starts.

“No. Don’t.”

“We did everything we could, but he coded twice and his heart was too weak to sustain the stress and damage.”

Buck grips the desk, like a life-line. It’s the only thing keeping him from crumbling to the ground. He feels like he’s under water, Stacy’s words drift further and further away.

“Sir,” Stacy grabs his shoulders gently. “Sir, breathe. Match my breaths,” she demonstrates long, deep breathes until Buck begins do to as she says. “That’s it, come on let’s sit down for a little while,” she guides them around the corner to sit on a bench by the first few hospital rooms on the left wing.

“Evan?”

Buck must be hallucinating, because Tommy, a very much alive-looking Tommy is standing in front of him. Maybe Buck went into shock and died.

But then Tommy’s coming closer into view, a bandage visible across his forehead and his face is flushed, which means blood’s coursing through his body, and that means…god, he’s alive??

“Evan, are you okay?” He asks in that deep, sure voice of his. Buck had missed it like a limb.

He hardly knows what he’s doing, before he’s launching himself into Tommy, body racking with sobs and gasping for breath, as he chants into his neck, “you’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive.”

“Hey, hey Evan,” breathe for me,” Tommy pleads softly. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m very much alive, I’m okay.” Buck sobs harder and Tommy holds him closer, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“I- I thought you were dead! I got a call and then she said-”

Tommy frowns, “I don’t know what they told you, but it’s just a concussion. I actually told them not to call you,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you’re listed as my emergency contact and they wouldn’t let me leave the hospital alone.”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Buck only just remembers Stacy’s still there and he would be furious- Hell, he is furious, but the relief of finding out Tommy’s alive surmounts his anger. He doesn’t let go of Tommy, only turns his body enough to look at her.

Stacy’s face is sheet white and unshed tears line her eyes “I- I can’t even begin to apologize for this. Sharon called and she said Thomas Kincaid. That’s the patient who coded. I didn’t realize you were here for Mr. Kinard. The names are so similar and both on the same floor, of all the things,” she’s crying now. “We’re short-staffed and I had to run off while I was on the phone with you. I know that’s no excuse and I understand if you need to report this. Again, I’m so, so sorry.”

Buck does feel for her. He’s very aware of the staff shortages all over and how overwhelmed the hospital staff has been, especially the nurses. He’s not going to report this. He’s angry, but he knows it was a genuine mistake. He’s learned that doing things out of rage isn’t a good thing, and all that matters is that Tommy is here, alive.

“Look, I won’t pretend like I’m not angry, but… I understand,” he assures her. “I’m not reporting you to anyone, just please don’t let this happen to anyone else. It’s the shittiest feeling in the world,” he chokes out. “And, I’m not trying to be rude when I say this, but can you please leave us alone?”

“Thank you,” she says voice barely above a whisper, her shoulders slump; Buck’s sure she must be relieved. She nods curtly and takes her exit.

Buck instantly turns back to face Tommy, not allowing more than a couple inches of space between them.

“Oh god, Evan, you thought I died- they told you I died. Well, who they thought- I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that felt like.” Buck can’t believe Tommy’s the one apologizing, of all people.

“I’ve never been happier about a mistake,” Buck proclaims with a watery laugh, a ghost of a thing. “You’re alive, sweetheart, you’re alive,” he repeats, assuring himself that this is real.

“I’m alive,” Tommy confirms, leaning in the rest of the way in to rest the uninjured side of his head to Buck’s forehead. Because he does, in fact, know Buck so well. Buck knows Tommy knows he needed to hear that from him.

“Tommy, I- I’m so incredibly sorry about that stupid fight,” Buck pulls back to look Tommy in the eye. “I was obstinate and dumb and I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Evan,” Tommy breathes.

“Please, let me finish,” Buck begs. “I wanted to take it back, as soon as I said it. You do know me. You know me better than anyone and I lashed out unfairly. You didn’t deserve it. It’s all on me and my insecurities, a- and I’ve been a complete mess since that night. This doesn’t erase that, but I missed you and I love you, and I want to be with you i- if you still want me.” There, he manages to get it all out and can only hope Tommy won’t turn him away.

Tommy lifts a hand and gently cups the side of Buck’s face. “Evan,” he starts, “first of all, I missed you too, terribly; god only knows how much, and, I love you too.” He rubs a calloused thumb across Buck’s cheek. “I won’t lie, what you said that night hurt like nothing I’ve felt before. I didn’t want us to be over. Turns out the sound of a heart breaking isn’t very loud at all,” he says, voice small and pained.

“Tommy-”

“Your turn to let me finish. Please?”

Buck nods, kicking himself mentally for interrupting.

“We- things won’t work if we retreat and withhold and jab. You have to talk to me, when your insecurities trip you up. We take care of each other, okay?”

Hope takes root in Buck’s heart for the first time in a week. Tommy smiles at him, tentative, yet tender.

“We’ll definitely talk more about what happened,” Tommy promised, “but of course I still want you, I’ll always want you, Evan,” he vows.

“Oh god, I promise,” Buck nods as a few tears run down his face. Tommy delicately wipes them away. “I called a therapist and made an appointment the day after,” Buck confesses.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I want to work on my issues- for us, but also for myself,” Buck asserts. “You’ve helped me grow and have shown me what healthy communication looks like, but I know I can’t put it all on you.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Tommy beams at him. “I think that will be great for you and I’m here for you, always.”

“Thank you, Tommy.”

“Of course.”

Buck rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet; He’s itching to kiss Tommy, but doesn’t want to push it. The ball should be in Tommy’s court he decides.

Tommy scans his face and must find what he’s looking for, because next thing Buck knows, he’s using the hand on Buck’s jaw to bring him in for a sweet, passionate kiss.

Tommy’s lips are chapped, from the hospital air, no doubt, but they’re the best thing Buck has ever felt. He sinks into the feeling, as they re-familiarize themselves with every ebb and flow. They go on for seconds or minutes, he can’t be sure, but at some point they taper off into gentle nips, until they’re parting, and Tommy pulls him in completely flush against his body so they’re holding each other again.

“God, I really missed you,” Buck exhales softly. “Love you. So much.”

“Love you, too, Ev,” Tommy says into his shoulder. “Let’s go home?” He pulls back, reluctant to leave Buck’s arms, but settles for intertwining their hands.

Buck’s never been more deliriously, insanely grateful. He sends a silent thank you out into the universe.

“Yeah,” he brings their tangled hands up to kiss Tommy’s knuckles.

“Yeah, baby, let’s go home."

[waywardsou2]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ General Bad Batch Head Canons ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hunter

He was secretly always jealous of Cut getting to settle down, have a life, a family, getting away from all the war and bloodshed. Hunter had wanted that but never thought it was possible

Hunter cried, fully cried to himself the night after Crosshair, despite everything that had just happened on Kamino, had still chosen the Empire over his brothers. Despite all he had seen on the battlefield all of the people he had failed to save, nothing hurt more than losing his brother.

When he was young, and ever since then Hunter has only ever let his brothers trim his hair. And he helps them cut theirs too. Hunter is very particular about his hair being a certain length and usually only trims his hair a few inches at best.

Hunter's face tattoo is actually to cover a birthmark. His other brothers (not the batch) used to tease him about it when they were cadets. He eventually got the tattoo to cover it up. These days he regrets it and doesn't understand why he folded to their teasing but he's still happy with it anyway. He doesn't regret the tattoo perse more the reason he felt the need to get it in the first place

Wrecker

Wrecker got Lula from a kid he helped on Ryloth when the Separatists were attempting to invade the planet, he loved it and was very attached to the toy. But he knew how important it was to the kid and he kept it with him for years until he gave it to Omega. He thought it made sense to give it to her, a young kid he had helped gave it to him and now he had passed it on to the next kid who needed it

Wrecker used to place fake bombs or stink bombs under his brother's bunks as pranks. He was always so obvious whenever he was doing this because he would be over-eager and giggle to himself, but he did manage to jump his brothers a few times with the prank

When Wrecker was caught in a bombing accident that messed up his eye and scared his face, he had a hard time adjusting to the way he looked, he didn't recognize part of himself now. And he especially hated when his hair didn't grow back the same way, and because of that he decided to shave it all off and continue to keep his head bald

In addition to that I think that when Wrecker was younger, he had hair a similar length to Hunter, and he liked it, despite the Kaminoans telling him to cut it several times. He does miss his hair at times, but he does like it better without hair hindering him.

Tech

Techs goggles function the same as prescription glasses, he's actually far sighted, this is why his helmet was built to fit around his goggles because he basically cannot see without them

(less of a head canon more of a canon fact with my personal twist) Tech is the youngest of his brothers but he was the quickest to mature and grow, which he likes reminding them about constantly.

(this one is gonna hurt, sorry in advance) When he fell off of the rail car into the ravine below, he didn't instantly but have some very fatal wounds and wasn't far off, Hemlock and his men found him and Hemlock took his goggles from off of his dying body and left. Leaving his men to dispose of him (I don't know what my mind was thinking when I wrote this, I guess I just love angst too much)

Tech had feelings for Phee but he never knew if she was being polite or flirting with him. He never said anything about it to her or his brothers because he figured that there was never going to be a time for him to ever act on those feelings so he never did anything about them.

Echo

(keep in mind I haven't seen any pre Bad Batch content of Echo so some of this stuff might conflict with his canon)

When Echo got blown up and had to have his face reconstructed he was awake for most of the procedure because if he slept or if they induced him it wasn't likely that he would wake up again, especially considering all of the damage done to his body and brain.

(Idk why but this one is super random but just feels right to me) Echo really likes butterflies, he likes the delicacy and beauty that comes from the creature's existence, the first time he saw one he was taken aback and had stopped to admire it. His Commander scolded him for getting left behind at the time

Echo used to pick at his head implants, they made him really uncomfortable and self-conscious, and his brothers used to have to stop him from damaging them and endangering himself. It was a really big issue of his for a while.

Crosshair

Crosshair's tattoo is also a cover-up for a scar, it's the right side of the crosshair that touches his nose. That line is actually a healed over scar underneath. He thought considering his nickname that the tattoo wasn't a bad idea. He was also secretly just copying his big brother Hunter, not that he would ever admit that

This guy can nap anywhere, and I mean anywhere. He doesn't sleep so he naps when he can. In trees, standing up, in the cockpit literally any where.

Adding onto the head canon from before I think Crosshair would have insomnia. But as he would do he never told the Kaminoans because he didn't want them to "fix him"

Crosshair has a nervous/general tick where he chews on his lip, he used to chew it so often that he often had cuts all over them. In place of cutting up his lips he decided to try and alternative - toothpicks. This was a good way to hide it but to still be able to tick when he needed to, plus the toothpicks were easy to access because he could collect them from the mess hall on Kamino

I realised at the end that I hadn't written any for Omega. How dare I? I promise I'll upload some soon

Hope you enjoyed these! Tell me your head canons below!

[tofixtheshadows]

@myszkaa It is completely bizarre to me, when I consider the story of Dungeon Meshi to be so clearly laid out, but I know it's because 1) fandom will always rally around the easiest, shallowest readings, the quickest and least challenging impressions, and, more importantly, 2) these attitudes will always affect characters of color in the most negative light possible. Seeing what's been happening to Kabru and Toshiro (and inevitably with Thistle I'm sure) feels like living through a time loop because they're the exact things I've seen happen in every fandom, like clockwork. The takes are all the same, just with different set dressing.

Because Kabru is positioned in the story in a way that is the slightest bit "oppositional" to golden boy Laios, and because he is not white, he is treated as inherently sinister and antagonistic, assumed to be full of himself and incorrect, because Laios is "right" so therefore Kabru must be "wrong." He is not given anywhere near the same amount of grace that his white counterparts are given. For example, I cannot imagine a fandom that would let Chilchuck be their darling if he were not white.

Even the most positive depictions of Kabru- normally from people invested in shipping him, so they don't register what they're doing as biased- often portray him as more aggressive than he is, whether that's making him short-tempered and violent or just mean and catty. Or he will be a prop for another character. Or they will go in the opposite direction and claim that there's absolutely no good reason anyone could possibly ship Kabru with anyone, and donwnplay his significance in the story to an absurd level.

Meanwhile his very obvious PTSD has only recently started to be talked about in fandom. I seriously did not see anyone actually use the term PTSD to describe Kabru until about a month ago, despite the fact that his PTSD is portrayed as clearly as Laios's autism, complete with triggers and flashbacks and panic episodes.

I like to write about Kabru because I find him and the story fascinating, but part of my motivation is that I want to make the fandom sympathize with him more. I'm trying to purify polluted waters one drop at a time.

[jheselbraum]

It's 2024 and some of y'all are still whining about Katara being "mean" to Zuko after he joined the party like he didn't directly betray her trust and almost caused her to waste the spirit water on him instead of saving it for Aang which-- while definitely not intentional on Zuko's part since 1) Zuko didn't know that Azula was going to shoot Aang with lightning and 2) He didn't offer or expect the spirit water to be able to heal his scar-- from Katara's perspective the last time she trusted Zuko the Avatar cycle almost fucking ended. Of fucking course it's going to take her the longest to trust him again, she's right! She was the first person to trust him, and he burned that bridge!

Everyone's field trips with Zuko make the most sense for both how they happen and when they happen. Toph trusts Zuko the quickest because she can literally tell when people are lying and is also good friends with Iroh, who's like, the number one "Zuko's not evil he's just in turmoil" guy. Aang trusts Zuko next because he's a fucking air nomad pacifist who is culturally predisposed to the virtue of forgiveness. Sokka trusts Zuko after an intense and prolonged mission to rescue some POWs because Sokka is a warrior at heart and while he like Toph sees the strategic value in Aang having a firebending teacher (eventually), he needs to know how Zuko behaves while on their side before he can trust him. Like-- the change in dynamic between the air temple, when Sokka and Zuko aren't on mission and Zuko is kind of the one "in charge," he has the information Sokka wants but Zuko is the one who hesitates to give it freely and Zuko is the one who dictates how Sokka leaves the temple for the boiling rock, to when they actually get there and Zuko follows Sokka's lead and Sokka is the one calling the shots and coming up with the plans really emphasizes how Zuko works in team setting when it counts.

And Katara's field trip with Zuko has to be her revenge quest, and how Zuko acts during that quest really tells us a lot about what Zuko wants personally from that field trip which is the same thing that he wanted from the others-- jack shit.

Zuko asks Sokka about his mother's death because he wants to better understand where Katara's coming from, and from where I'm standing it's pretty obvious that he only realizes "hey hang on my years at the Fire Nation School For Little Princes might come in handy actually" and tells Katara what he now knows about the raid and who did it.

And throughout the entire episode Zuko is 110% on board with whatever Katara wants to do with that information. If she'd said at the tent "Thanks but the only revenge I want is helping Aang defeat the firelord and ending the war" then he would've just been like "ok"

Zuko makes no judgement call on Katara's use of bloodbending and he makes no judgement call on Katara's decision to spare Yon Ra and every move he makes in that episode is Zuko saying "You're right, I fucked up, and I understand where you're coming from" every move he makes is in support of Katara, she is the one in control in the situation and I think that's why Zuko brushes off Aang's call to pacifism earlier in the episode, because pacifism isn't what Katara wants in that moment.

Like that whole sequence comes from such a genuine place of caring and support from Zuko for Katara and I think the interpretation that Katara is just being Mean to Zuko for No Good Reason really cheapens one of the best episodes in the series as well as the episodes leading up to it.

[7-wonders]

Time of Your Life

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVIII)

Summary: It's something unpredictable, but in the end, it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.

Word Count: 3.6k

A note from the author (it's a long one): "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day has been on repeat while I wrote this final chapter for a couple of different reasons. While one will be revealed literally the moment you begin to read this final chapter, the other is for obvious reasons. We've reached the end of Mad Love.

I've spent more time than I should have thinking about the note that I would write to accompany this finale. This story started way back in 2019, born of one of my first one-shots that blew up. Though I had never planned to write anything beyond that original first chapter, people kept asking for a second part. Thus, Mad Love was born.

So much has happened in the five years since I began writing this, both within the story itself and within my life. I've graduated college, started a new job, moved cities and slowly learned how to become an adult. Through it all, there's always been this story to come back to. No matter what got in my way of releasing the next chapter, or how long the breaks between releases were, there were always readers just as excited to learn what was going on with Michael and Reader as I was to write it.

My thanks to anybody who's ever read this story, and my endless gratitude to those who have liked, commented, and reblogged throughout the years. I've fondly read everything left in the tags, from the quickest of keysmashes to the most thought-out notes. The support of my readers was, sometimes, the only reason I chose to write and update, especially in the last couple of years when my interest in this fandom waned. You've seen this story through the highs and lows, and you've seen me, the author, through the highs and lows.

With the end of this story comes the end of my time writing for Michael Langdon, and I'll miss him so much. He was the reason I started this blog in the first place, and getting to get inside his head has been such a benefit in my growth as a writer. Thank you for everything, Michael, you awkward, puppydog Antichrist.

For the last time, I sincerely hope that you enjoy, and remember that likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

Mad Love Masterlist

Seven months later

“Smile!”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard innumerable times today, whether directed at you or overheard among the groups that comprise the hundreds, if not thousands, of people gathered. Though you’ve been directed to smile a number of times today, and that doesn’t show any signs of stopping, you doubt you’ll end up being annoyed. After all, how could you be annoyed on one of the best days of your life?

Your arm tightens around Kate and vice versa as you both do what’s asked and smile brightly for the camera. It’s a bit awkward, having to figure out how to hold your diplomas with one hand while simultaneously trying to keep your mortarboards from hitting, but you make it work. Once Kate’s step-mom flashes a thumbs up, Kate insists on one more, and you giggle as she kisses your cheek.

“Mallory, get in a picture with them!” Brennan, standing off to the side, urges.

“Even though I’m not a graduate?” she asks teasingly. 

“Still a bestie,” Kate retorts, wiggling her fingers in Mallory’s direction. “C’mere!”

She fits herself between you and Kate, the missing puzzle piece to your trio, as the three of you pose once more. Mallory will get her own graduation day soon—she only needs another semester of credits to graduate, and plans on returning to school in the fall to finish her English degree. There have already been plans discussed of how you’ll celebrate her own accomplishment, but she’s insisted that talk of this can wait. Today, she said, is for you.

And today, you’re so, so happy.

Sometimes, you never thought that you would actually see graduation day. Between the routine breakdowns every semester that made you ponder why you actually wanted your degree and how weird and supernatural your life had become in the latter two years of your post-secondary education, graduation seemed so distant, like a barely achievable fantasy. But in the blink of an eye, you found yourself sitting among your peers and listening to the same type of cheesy “this is where your life begins” speech that you heard at your high school graduation a few years prior.

This graduation is so much sweeter though, because you had to work for this degree. Through the late nights and tears, the well-researched essays and the hastily finished group projects (the bane of your existence), the relationship drama and the threat of apocalypse—you persevered, despite it all. You earned this accomplishment. This time around, the speeches sounded so much more inspirational, the air filled with more excitement, and the celebrations more deserved.

The best part of the ceremony? Walking across the stage to receive your diploma and looking into the crowd to see Michael standing and cheering with your family, tears in his eyes and a grin on his face. When you waved at him, his smile had somehow grown, and he whistled loudly.

Now, you eagerly search the faces of those streaming around you outside, hoping to see someone familiar. While you found your family right away after the ceremony officially concluded, Michael split off from them for a bit, making you wait to find the one person you wanted to see most. When you finally see your favorite pair of blue eyes, you peel off of Kate and Mallory and run to him. Michael opens his arms and happily wraps you up in a hug, the both of you swaying from side to side.

“Well?” he finally says, pulling away from you to fix your mortarboard, knocked out of place when it hit his forehead. “How’s it feel, graduate?”

“Feels pretty damn good,” you declare, flipping open your diploma and gazing down at it proudly. Your name and your major are written ornately, declaring that you’ve fulfilled the requirements of your degree. Michael kisses your cheek as he looks it over, tracing the engraving of your school’s crest on the inside cover.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You become unexpectedly emotional at this, tears pricking your eyes for the first time today (honestly, you thought this would happen sooner) and your throat growing tight. While you know that he’s proud of you all the time, hearing it on the occasion of the biggest accomplishment of your life so far makes it extra special. “Thanks, love.”

He kisses you chastely, acutely aware of the fact that your family is watching. It’s sweet, how eager he is to impress them. You’ve told him multiple times that he doesn’t need to try—he succeeded at making them like him from the get-go, simply due to how he treats you. Michael, of course, didn’t grow up with any idea of what a semi-healthy family dynamic is, and still believes that he needs to continually earn their approval. It’s a stark difference from the Michael that he was veering towards becoming a few short months ago, and you’re so thankful for it.

He wasn’t lying that night in New Orleans when he said things would be different from that point on, and that included his attitude.

Even after your return from your fall trip, as Michael officially put a stop to the apocalypse plans and started charming and convincing investors and Cooperative members alike into believing that Satan’s will had changed, you could tell that there was something weighing heavily on him. It was in the way that he looked at and acted toward you, the way that he hugged you in the morning and held you at night—like he was so worried that he was going to lose you, or like you would disappear if he looked away for too long. After asking him time and time again what was wrong, only to receive the same answer, that he was fine, you finally sat him down and asked for the truth.

“Honesty, remember?” you said. “We promised that we were going to communicate now.”

Michael considered what he was going to say for a while. You sat in silence with him for almost twenty minutes, holding his hands in yours and waiting patiently for him to gather his courage. Finally, he spoke.

“I saw the future,” he said. “The future that would have happened if I actually ended the world. It was a complete wasteland, devoid of almost all life. Those who survived the initial fallout were riddled with tumors and sores from the toxic air. They did terrible things—stealing, murder, cannibalism—just to survive. Nothing, though, was as terrible as me. I became…a monster. Someone cruel, someone evil, who enjoyed playing with the lives of those left like they were nothing but puppets. The only thing that I cared about was my father’s approval, and with the world ended and depravity everywhere, he encouraged me to lean into that depravity.”

Michael stopped when he became choked up, and his hands began to shake. One of your hands went to his cheek in comfort, only for him to let out a sad, distressed sound at the act. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“In that future, you—you died,” Michael blurted out.

“I did?”

He nodded as tears began to run down his face and make his eyes look impossibly bigger. “You died, and I couldn’t save you. I was too late, and left with nothing but your corpse. The image has haunted me ever since I saw it. When I look at you, all I can see is how lifeless you looked in my arms.”

It made sense, then, why Michael treated you the way he did. If you had a vivid image of the future, one where he was dead and you were forced to bear witness to it, you’d likely have acted the same way. To see him in this much pain over what he witnessed hurt you in turn. Sniffing back tears to try and remain the strong one (because Michael needed comfort in that moment much more than you did), you took his hand and placed it on the side of your neck.

“Do you feel my pulse, thrumming away under your fingers?” you asked, waiting for him to nod before moving his hand to your chest. “Feel my breathing? I’m not dead. I’m here, alive, and with you. And if I have it my way, I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael pulled you to him, and you straddled his lap in order to get as close to him as possible. If it took you plastering yourself to him in order for him to hear the truth in your words, then you were going to glue him.

“Yes, you saw a future where I died. But what matters is that this isn’t our future. Our future is this one, where you’re changing your path to ensure nothing like that happens. And it won’t, okay?”

It’s taken a lot of work and reassurance to get Michael to believe that the future you were on a crash course for is no longer even an option. With Satan’s recent acceptance of Michael’s alternate plan—“the long game,” Michael likes to call it—he’s finally starting to come around.

“There he is!” Kate says triumphantly when you pull Michael back to your group. “We thought you got lost.”

Michael smiles. “I was just taking my time.” He turns to Brennan and grins, abandoning holding your hand so that he can greet his friend (his friend! Michael has a friend!) with a hug. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man!” The joy on his face at Michael, notoriously not the best at touching, initiating a hug is evident, and you and Kate share a fond look over your respective boyfriends’ shoulders. Never did you think that your sheltered, half-demon husband would become good friends with a self-described frat bro, but stranger things have happened.

“Are you guys coming to the bonfire tonight?” Brennan and a couple of his closest Lambda Chi brothers had planned a farewell beach bonfire for tonight. It’s supposed to be pretty lowkey, according to Kate, with maybe thirty people at most—rookie numbers for an event hosted by Brennan, but ones that make the event more appealing after a long weekend of graduation festivities.

You shrug. “Maybe. We’re going to dinner with my family after this, so I’m not sure how long it’ll take or how peopled-out we’ll be.”

“Oh, you have to come!” Kate pleads. “What if this is our last night all together?”

“It’s not going to be! We have plenty more adventures in store,” you assure her. After all, it’s not like she and Brennan are going anywhere yet, not with Brennan finding an engineering job in the area and Kate getting a job offer out of her internship.

“But you and Michael are going to Europe in a month, and by the time you get back summer’s basically over and you’ll be off to grad school.”

You smile at the reminder of what’s in store for you. Michael was finally making good on his promise to sweep you off your feet with the “date” of a lifetime. Greece, Italy, England, and France were on the docket for your European adventure, but one of the perks of having an Antichrist husband who controls the world’s most powerful people is that you can change your plans to whatever you want them to be.

And grad school! While you’re excited to be in a new area, and to continue your studies in a field you love so dearly, you’re most excited for Michael’s future. In addition to what he’s already been doing with the Cooperative, he’s also planning on taking a couple of classes at the same school that you’re attending to find a major he’s passionate about. His orientation day is the same as yours, and you’re a little too excited that you’ll get to take your student ID pictures together. For the first time in a long time, Michael seems happy and excited for what’s in store. As for you, you couldn’t be more thrilled that he’s discovering who he is outside of being Satan’s son, which is all you’ve ever wanted for him.

“You said it yourself though, Europe’s not for a whole month!” you say to try and cheer Kate up.

She pouts and drags Mallory to her after a moment of thought. “Okay, but Mallory goes home tomorrow night! What if that’s it for us?”

It won’t be, since you and Kate literally have the tickets already booked for a trip to see Mallory in New Orleans before school starts in August. But despite your best efforts, the nostalgia gets to you. This likely will be the last time all three of you get to hang out together here, at the school where you all met. The longer you go without speaking, the wider Kate’s smile grows. Oh, she knows you too well!

Luckily, you’re saved by a member of your family grabbing your arm. “We’re going to head back to our hotel to get ready for dinner. We’ll meet you in an hour, alright?”

You smile and nod. “Alright, love you!” 

Hugs are given to both you and Michael (who still looks delightfully pleased that these people don’t all hate him simply by virtue of him being alive) before they split off. The conversation with Kate is forgotten for the moment as you make the rounds with some of your other friends, going through the routine of congratulating and smiling for pictures over and over again.

“We should probably get out of here if we want to be on time for dinner,” Michael eventually says into your ear. 

You nod after checking your watch to see that he’s right and head over to Kate, wrapping your arms around her from behind in an attempt to scare her. Instead, she just laughs and turns around so that she’s facing you.

“Hey, we’re leaving,” you tell her.

“But we’ll see you tonight, right?” she asks hopefully.

“I don’t know.”

“Please?” Kate’s eyes grow wide, and she clasps her hands in front of her. “Please please please?”

You sigh. “We’ll see…”

Naturally, you end up sitting in the car next to Michael as you pull up to the location Kate sent you at that damn beach. 

The sun’s just barely set, the horizon still a light yellow as the last rays of light try to cling on before giving way completely to the night. It silhouettes the scene below, where your friends are clustered in loose groups around the fire that’s already going strong. Their laughter, along with music playing from a speaker someone must have brought with them, can be heard even up here, at least a hundred feet away. It makes you eager to join them, and you reach into the back seat to grab the bag that you packed with a large blanket, some drinks (both with and without alcohol, for wherever the night leads you), and a couple of snacks.

“You made it!” Mallory cheers when you and Michael walk hand in hand to the group, Kate jumping up to hug you like it’s been years since she’s last seen you—one of your favorite traits about her.

“What can I say? Someone’s pretty convincing,” you tease.

Kate laughs triumphantly. “Damn right, I am. C’mon! Have a seat.”

Doing as she says, you spread out the blanket next to Kate, Brennan, and Mallory, lay your drinks and food out so that they can be shared, and get comfortable.

The night passes like most get-togethers with your friends do: with lots of laughter. And when there’s not laughing, there’s talking. The topics range from anything to everything—the simultaneous feelings of excitement and fear at what’s next, sharing memes, updates on job hunts, new music recommendations. Being able to fit fifty different conversations into one hours-long period is one of your (many) favorite things about your friends. You, Kate, and Mallory eventually end up on the topic of your Europe trip, both wanting to know all of the details now that you’ve gotten it mostly planned.

“How are you going about the Greece portion?” Kate asks.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Kate fumbles for a moment, unable to find the words. “Mal, help me out here.”

Mallory nods, apparently knowing exactly what Kate means. “You know, are you going to look at all the history and culture, explore some ruins and visit museums? Or are you going to live out your Mamma Mia fantasies, endless days spent on the beach, swimming in the crystal blue ocean, and,” she casts a look at Michael, currently chatting with Brennan and Jack, before waggling her eyebrows, “dot dot dot?”

You and Kate both laugh, with Mallory joining you after a moment of trying to keep up her straight face. “How long have you been holding on to that one?”

“Actually, only when Kate tossed the question to me.” She shrugs and sighs. “It’s hard being a comedic genius, but somebody’s got to do it.”

“But for real!” Before Kate can ask you the question again, another song starts up and she lets out a pleasantly surprised shout. When she looks at Brennan to get his attention, he’s already looking back at her. “Of course, you snuck this song onto the playlist.”

“I had to,” he says bashfully. “Beach bonfires get me feeling all sentimental.”

“We met at a beach bonfire,” Kate says to you and Mallory. “Labor Day weekend of our sophomore year! This song comes on, and suddenly I find myself talking to a guy who also thinks Perks of Being a Wallflower is one of the few movie adaptations that’s just as good as the book.”

“How did I not know that!” Mallory exclaims. 

“Brennan, you’re such a sap,” you tease.

“Only for my lady love.” He crawls over and kisses her, so naturally it’s your and Mallory’s duty as her best friends to gag when he does so. “So? May I have this dance?”

Kate goes along happily, allowing Brennan to pull her up and spinning with him in the sand. Michael joins you now that his conversation’s been broken up, settling back down on your blanket and pulling you against him so that your back is to his chest. You both watch your friends dance for a bit, a few others on the opposite end of the fire getting up to join them.

“Do you ever think about it?” Michael asks you, bringing your attention away from the scene in front of you.

You look at him curiously. “Think about what?”

“How we would have met if I wasn’t who I am. What our life would have been like.” He smiles, a slight movement tinged with self-deprecation, and takes a drink of his water before continuing. “I do. In my head, we met on the first day of class. It was probably some gen ed—English, I usually imagine. I would have sat next to you because it was the only empty seat left, and by the end of the second week, I would be asking you for help since I’m not the best at writing. We probably would have started out as friends before I got up the courage to ask you out on a date.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. 

Though you won’t say it aloud, sometimes you’ve thought the exact same thing. How, if he was just a regular guy, your love story would have been something simple, something normal. You never would have been kidnapped (twice), or poisoned by Satan, or forced to marry the Antichrist, falling in love with him despite your very best efforts. You wouldn’t have had to spend so much time and energy worrying about the world ending while trying to figure out how you, a mortal with no sort of powers, could stop it. There wouldn’t be some alternate future out there where the world did end and you died, according to Michael, a painful and traumatic death.

“You know what, though? If I had the chance, I don’t think I’d change our story.”

He looks at you in bewilderment. “Even after everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve put you through?”

“Have the things that we’ve gone through been crazy and oftentimes fucked up? Yeah, absolutely. But for every bad, there’s been so much good.” 

With Michael snapping for the first time and accidentally hitting you came going on your first “date” with him and learning that he really likes mint chocolate chip ice cream. When you were in the trenches after Dinah gave you the potion to reverse the effects of the poison apple, Michael never left your side and cared for you diligently until you woke up. The Cooperative meeting you attended, the one where you watched Michael incinerate a man with his mind, seemed a fair trade-off for getting to experience your senior homecoming with the man you love.

“I love all of you, Michael, demonic parts and all. If you weren’t the Antichrist, then you wouldn’t be the man that I love. So yeah, I’ll take everything we’ve been through. Because everything we’ve been through, we’ve done together.”

Michael’s laugh sounds surprised, as though he was waiting for you to reveal that you’ve been lying this whole time. “I love you too.”

While you and Michael had an impromptu heart-to-heart, more of your fellow beachgoers got up and started dancing as songs came and went. The song changes once more and this time Mallory jumps up with a whoop, grabbing Kate’s outstretched hand and spinning herself under it. As the two start to move with the beat of the song, they catch your eye and begin beckoning you over. Laughing, you shake your head and settle yourself more firmly against Michael.

“Aren’t you going to go dance?” he asks.

“No.” You smile and kiss him, happy to feel him smiling too. “I’d rather just stay here with you.”

It’s the truth, both for your current situation and for life in general. You don’t have the gift of divination like your husband and best friend—nor any powers at all—but you don’t need them. With Michael by your side, you already know that your future’s looking very bright.

•••

@ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @nsainmoonchild @redroses07

@xo-angel-ox @littleangel4996 @iamlivingforturner @thatonehumanbeing05 @codycrazy

@love-on-the-murder-scene @gabriella-aesthetic @radicalisopod

[gaybananabread]

rottmnt tickle head cannons? What is your favorite tickle trope for Rise? (As in who is your favorite Lee/ler scenario)

🐢Rottmnt Tkl Headcanons♡

~Oooooh my Rise hcs! Sorry I've been so dead recently, school is kicking my ass this semester (⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙). I'll do character hcs first, and the trope thing at the end. Much longer than my others for sure. I need to do more for these skrunkles tbh. Slight Rise spoilers if you squint. Sorry this took 8,000 years, and thank you for requesting!~

(Casey Jr Hcs)

💥Raph🧸

General:

We can all agree that this big ol’ teddy bear loves tickles, right?

Be it a fluffy comfort or destroying a bratty brother, Big Raphie is up for it.

Taking this into account, he feels like a switch.

Might admit he likes it around the right person, though his brothers have known for years.

He has to really trust someone to tell them.

Doesn't wanna seem like he's unfit to protect his brothers. As you can probably guess, he gets lovingly ejected from that mindset when people find out.

Lee:

If he gets a lee mood, he tries to hide it and fails miserably.

Big boy will have the dopiest grin around his playful brothers, which he does a horrible job at hiding.

Can't seem to focus on his advice-giving or training. It doesn't take long for his brothers to notice.

Worst spot is his underarms. You get him there and he'll give every dog near a NYC sewer grate a headache.

Melt spots are his palms and beneath his chin. Gentle scratches on either surface melt him into a happy, giggly puddle.

Likes being tickled by anyone really close to him. He's just gotta be in the right mood for it. April kills him most often.

Amazing thing to do to him is gentle melt-spot attention to help him relax. Toss in some reassurances and praise while you're at it. He'll be in a blissful daze for hours.

Ler:

Mostly a revenge-ler, but he can also randomly get ler moods.

He loves the Tickle Monster persona, always uses it on his brothers when they're being shitheads.

A softer ler, though he isn't afraid to wreck someone if they refuse to quit (or ask).

When he's being nice, soft scribbles, flurries of pokes, and side squeezes.

“Cootchie-coo, ya cutie!”

When he's not-so-nice, you get one or two giant, inescapable tickle-claws attacking you, big squeezes and occasionally neck nibbles if he's feeling evil.

Mikey, Leo and April get it most often, though each for different reasons.

Mikey straight up asks, and big bro is more than happy to provide. Boy loves a willing lee.

Leo’s always a shit, and some Raphie tickles work wonders on taking him down a peg.

April either offers to let him tickle her as a stress/mood reliever or engages a tickle fight.

He gives the best aftercare ever (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠｡⁠♡. Cuddles, back rubs, maybe a nap in his cozy lap if you're comfortable with it. Potential hot chocolate if you're patient.

🗡️Leo✨

General:

Sassy man gives off ler-leaning switch.

Always in the mood to lovingly murder his brothers’ lungs, but occasionally likes to forget his name.

This playful goof definitely likes tickling, though he refuses to admit it. He needs to protect his coolness, afterall.

Lee:

When the lee mood hits, everyone in the house is immediately notified. Not directly, of course, but it's pretty obvious that something's up.

WAY more one-liners and flippy jokes than normal. Awkward finger guns at the end of jokes, little prods and pokes for no reason, just general annoyance.

In his mind, he'll either annoy them into wrecking him, or they'll pick up on it and help. Either way, he gets tickled.

If anyone tickles him, it's usually either Raph or Mikey. Raph gets tired of his shit the quickest, and Mikey is good at reading people.

Worst spots are his thighs and feet. Get him there, and there's no way he'll be able to even think about sassing anyone through his laughter.

Melt spots are his forearms. After a long day of patrolling the city and being awesome, some light traces there will make him a very happy turtle.

Ler:

Okay but the SASS

He's such a teasy bastard of a ler. Will tease and coo at his lee until they're a flustered, blushy mess. Then he'll call ‘em cute one more time, just because he can.

He frequently gets ler moods, but those are way easier to take care of than their opposite.

Most of the time, his lee will be Mikey or Donnie. His bubbly brother is almost always in the mood for a good tickle “fight,” and Donnie needs to relax sometimes.

Has a bit of a rough style, but does get softer moods sometimes.

During regular moods, he loves to dig into sides and bellies, attack death spots and blow raspberries to hear a lee squeal.

On softer occasions, he'll gently skitter his fingers along death spots, switching places whenever the giggling gets too loud. Maybe some tickly kisses if you're lucky

His aftercare typically consists of cuddling during a Jupiter Jim movie, snacks, and gentle praises. Makes sure his victims are smiling, even when his fingers aren't wiggling.

🎨Mikey☀️

General:

Sunshine boy loves tickling, both as a bonding activity and a coping method.

He's a lee-leaning switch for sure. Ready to get his ass handed to him, but open to helping out his brothers’ lee moods or cheering someone up.

Has magical “can say the t-word at any time” powers. You know he abuses the absolute heck out of said powers, too.

Lee:

Lee moods are no rare thing for this boyo.

Gets them very frequently, though he's actually able to ask for help when he needs it.

Either accidentally or on purpose, he's able to fluster his ler. He'll ask for more, one specific spot, tell them that they're doing an awesome job, ect.

When he gets super stressed, some cheer-up/calm-down tickles are much appreciated (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

A massive squirmer, he can't help it. Make sure to pin or hold him, or you might get an elbow to the nose (accidentally, of course; he'd never stop apologizing).

Worst spots are his knees and neck. Either spot gets him screeching, though he isn't likely to try and stop you.

Melt spot is his palms. With his mildly-terrifying mystic magic, some feather-light touches can be reassuring. Just make sure to ask first.

Everyone kinda rotates through wrecking him, though Raph and Donnie kinda dominate the field.

Either because they catch on/get annoyed the quickest or something else, he's usually found with them.

Ler:

Surprisingly formidable ler

Don't let his cinnamon-roll vibe fool you: this man can and will wreck your shit.

Tweaks his style a bit for each person. Super observant and tailors how and what he does to each lee.

Compliment-teases are his specialty. He'll have you blushing in 5 seconds flat.

“Aww, I love your blush! It's so bright and cute, just like you!”

“This squishy belly is just so ticklish, isn't it? Here I thought it was just adorable!”

“Was that a snort? No, don't hide it! Those are the best!”

His ler moods are a bit rarer, but they are absolutely something to fear (or enjoy while they last (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)).

Super sweet aftercare. You can't escape cuddling (unless you can't handle the touch, he'll understand). Usually some hand-baked treats as well, depending on what he has hidden from his brothers.

General:

🛠️Donnie👾

He's a ler-leaning switch, but that's mainly because he's not always open for being touched.

He gets lee moods, but they're rarer. People have to ask before they try anything.

Even with ler moods, not always open to get somebody.

Communication with this boy is key.

Lee:

It takes a good combination of good day + not overstimulated + in a touchy mood, but he does get lee moods.

Tries to hide and ignore them, but it never works out. Either Shelldon finds him and helps, or one of his brothers stumbles across the mood.

If he’s super overwhelmed with a project and okay with touch, some light tickles are perfect for bringing him back to Earth.

Little hand flaps and kicks when you get him. Happy stims galore! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Worst spot is his soft shell, though armpits are a close second. Loud, bright and occasionally hysterical reactions.

Melt spots are his belly plastron and tops of his thighs. Gentle traces and scratches on either spot leave him a stimmy, giggly puddle.

Most of the time, it’ll be Leo who tickles him. It’s usually for help calming down, though April isn’t far behind.

Will never admit it, but he does enjoy both sides of tickling.

Ler:

You know this mans uses his shell attachments to wreck people.

Those metal claws? Yeah, good luck- =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

Very dramatic commentary on his lee’s reactions. His inner theater kid loves to shine. Either that, or complete monotone. There’s no in-between, and he’s never offered an explanation.

“Oh my, you’re laughing rather hard, my dear gigglebug!”

“Judging by this raucous laughter, I’d say this is your worst spot.”

“Oh, it tickles? Really badly? How unfortunate for you…”

Has absolutely made tickle-specific gadgets and I will die on this hill.

Remember the feather staff feature from the Shredder episode? He didn’t just have that for no reason.

Usually wrecks Mikey and/or Leo. They’re both very talented at provoking him, either on purpose or by accident.

His aftercare depends on his mood. If he’s cool with touch, he’ll cuddle and watch a movie with you. If not, you’ll usually get some pats from his claw and snuggles from Shelldon (yes lil’ dude is fine gimme a break)

📹April⚾

General:

Hmmmm toughie, but I’d say ler-leaning switch. Not all that ticklish, but willing to help if one of her brothers is in a bad ler mood.

She just kinda prefers to do the tickling most of the time, unless it’s for her bros.

Extremely confident, bears the magic power of saying the t-word whenever she pleases. You know she puts it to good use, too.

Being the sister of the family, she’s gotta put her bros in their places. Why not use tickling?

Lee:

While it’s not often, she’ll let Big Raphie tickle her if he needs to.

Sometimes that boy just needs someone to reassure him that he’s not hurting them while giggling their brains out.

She’s pretty good at sitting still, amazing poker face. Could easily dominate in the Arms Up game.

As I said before, not super ticklish. Serves her well in tickle fights (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Only her ribs really get her laughing, but other than that it’s bubbly, pitchy giggles.

Doesn’t really have a melt spot, though if she had to choose a favorite, it’d be her belly.

Ler:

VERY very teasy. Easily-flustered lees be warned (˘ ˘ ˘)

Loves seeing her lee blush and sputter, finds it endlessly adorable.

“What? Oh, it tickles? Good, thought I might’ve been going too easy on ya!”

“Oooo, someone’s blushin’! How cute~”

“Wonder what would happen if I went for your worst spot… Only one way to find out!”

Giggles along with her lee. They’re adorable—how could she not?

As big sis, it’s her job to keep her brothers in line. Why not use tickling?

Frequently gives Raph calm-down/confidence-boosting tickles. Boy’s too stressed, in her opinion.

After him, it’s helping Donnie relax or pry him away from a project. Leo also needs to be taken down a peg every once in a while.

Super snuggly aftercare. Back rubs, praises and even some teases for the road, if ya catch my drift~

🔥Cassandra🏒

General:

I’m feeling ler on this one. She doesn’t seem like she’d enjoy being tickled too much, though she definitely doesn’t mind wrecking others.

Before the Hamato fam stepped in, she didn’t really have much experience in the tickly field.

Maybe one of her foot-face mentors, but other than that, nada.

That absolutely changes when she joins the bros.

Ler:

Ready to vanquish any “enemy” lee mood to help her friends out.

Rougher style normally, though she can be convinced to dial it back. You wanna forget your name? She’s your gal.

Takes her role sorta seriously, though she can be playful. Just depends on her mood.

If she does tease, it’s more observational than anything.

She just kinda says flustering stuff without meaning to.

“Well, no duh it tickles. That’s the whole point!”

“Not there? You asked me to tickle you, but scold me the moment I get somewhere? I don’t think so!”

Attacks everyone pretty evenly, but she does have a preference for April and Raph. They’re the most fun to take down, in her opinion.

Cass respects boundaries, of course. You genuinely want her to stop and she’ll be off you in seconds.

Doesn’t grasp the concept of aftercare quite yet. Once you can breathe, she’ll start asking for feedback.

“How was that? Did it really tickle? Details, giggler, details!”

If specifically requested, though, she does give a mean back-rub and/or massage. If your back or neck is ticklish, though, you’re gonna have a whole new problem~ ( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

💮Splinter🐀

General:

Splints has ler energy, ya know?

Like April, not super ticklish. He isn’t the biggest fan of being tickled, but if it’s with very specific people, he’ll tolerate it.

Doesn’t interact tickle-wise very often, but he does have his moments.

Is very aware that his children love it and tries to connect with them in that way sometimes.

Ler:

With his ninja skills and small size, he can take down even the brattiest of lees in seconds.

You see his tail? Yeah, absolutely uses it to help wreck his victims.

Very playful, goofy ler. Laughs along with his lee, makes little comments on their reactions.

“Oh my, little one. I never would have thought you’d be so sensitive!”

“Heheh, what a cute laugh! You really should let me hear it more often!”

When he notices any of his kids are down in the dumps, he sneaks in a few pokes and scritches with his tail.

If that doesn’t work, they get the full-Splints treatment. Reassuring teases, rougher tickles and his undivided attention.

He’ll bug Draxum when he feels like it, which is more funny than anything.

Reducing the broody goat-man to a giggling, cursing mess is therapeutic for him ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º)

His aftercare is light and sweet. Head pats, reassurances, and a small cookie break for a nice close.

🌱Baron Draxum🐐

General:

Before the turtles, had little to no idea what tickling was about.

Sure, he knew that people laughed when it happened, but he couldn’t tell what was so great about it. It was just touch and laughter - no big deal.

Once the teetles got ahold of him, though? Yeah, that view changed pretty quick.

Turns out he’s a switch. Likes “destroying his nuisances” with the harmless technique, but doesn’t mind it being used on him.

Will never admit the latter, though.

Lee:

A LOT more ticklish than one would imagine. Like a few squeezes will leave him giggling and blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

He’s pretty good at hiding his lee moods, though they definitely aren’t repressible. Draxy feels them, but can keep others in the dark.

If anyone’s gonna notice, it’ll be Lou (Splinter). He knows the man the best, thanks to Mikey’s whole “fatherly-bonding” push.

Splints will help, though he’ll tease the shit out of the Baron the entire time.

While he’ll never tell the rat man, he enjoys the silly exchanges.

Worst spots are his hips and shoulder blades. Either place will have him stuck in a snorty, rumbling bout of hysterics.

Melt spots are his palms. He adores gentle traces there, lets him know somebody cares.

Ler:

Absolutely uses his mystic powers to help him.

Those vines? Yeah, restraints and tickle tools for days

Very smug ler, likes to tease his lees until they’re flustered messes. It’s done out of love, though, so can you blame him?

“This must be torturous, huh? The vines holding you still, my fingers on your worst spots… However, I don’t think I’ve heard you say stop…”

Usually tickles the teens if they’re annoying him, but also goes after Lou every so often.

He knows there’ll be repercussions, but life’s no fun without a little risk.

Huginn and Muninn are next in line. Surprising no one, they’re and attention whores. Draxy makes sure they get their fills.

Not the best with aftercare, but he tries. Back rubs and light praises while you catch your breath. Maybe some of his “confectionary wonders” if you’re brave enough.

*✧⁠◍Favorite Trope & Lee/Ler Pairing◍✧⁠*

Okay, so there’s no way I can pick a single favorite pairing. I love them all too much! I can, however, name my top 3.

lee!Raph, ler!April is definitely up there. I adore the big-siblings energy in their fics, and they just bond so well!

Pretty much anything with lee!Donnie in it. I love seeing the smarty-pants get got ( •̀ ᵕ •́ )

lee!Draxum and ler!Splinter. Okay, hear me out, but I love redemption arcs and enemies to friends/lovers/co-parents or whatever you wanna call what they have going on. They’re fun and I like fun.

For my favorite trope, I’m gonna have to go with cheer-up tickles, or more specifically, some stop-stressing-tf-out tickles. It’s always so fun to read how people would cheer up the boys, as well as write some super duper, totally not self-indulgent fics like that for myself. Maybe one day they’ll see the light, but don't count on it lol (¬////¬)

[todo-shotoroki]

1//: But now..

.

.

.

.

“....Return to my parents’ home.. my old residence...find my little brother, Senjurō...tell him...to follow his heart....and to walk down the path..that he feels is right.....and..my father...”

He stopped..should he go on..he loved his father, so why was it so hard to continue with his next words.

“....tell my father that...that I want him to take care of himself....and-”

Rengoku had so much more to say...but he could feel his life quickly draining from his body...he had to make this quick..he had to make it count..

“Ren-Rengoku-San..please don’t talk anymore” Tanjiro didn’t want to hear anymore...he didn’t want to believe this was happening...how could this be happening...he..he fought so damn hard..he can’t die...he’s ..the hero...he can’t die..not now...h-how-

“Young Kamado, I’m going to tell you all I can while I can still talk so I need you to listen..” with only so much strength left..he needed Tanjiro to understand the passion he was putting into each of these last words...before it was too late.

“There’s someone else I need you to seek out...”

.

.

.

.

It was a normal day for her..as normal as it could get in a world of blood-thirsty demons. She didn’t leave her work in the village until late in the night so she wasn’t able to see Kyōjurō off on his mission that morning, like she wanted...but this time was like many others. He would go off and fight, she would work through the night and they would reunite..soon enough, to be together again.

Kyōjurō didn’t like that she worked so late in the night though..its dangerous, you never know who lurks and stalks in the shadows waiting for that perfect opportunity..she used to think he was trying to scare her, but everything he said held true, there were no grounds to doubt his words...he never gave her reason to.

She’d always reassure him that she was safe though..walking on the path with the most street light..staying in populated areas as much as possible until she had to duck off through the forest because “It’s the quickest way”... he was always protective of her nevertheless, no matter how tough she tried to prove herself to be.

It was just his way of expressing his love for her..and she gladly excepted it.

.

.

.

It was 12:17 in the afternoon when she finally opened her eyes to greet the rising sun..Kyōjurō..of course that would be her first thought as she is welcomed into the new day..He informed her that it wouldn’t..no..shouldn’t..take no more than 2 days...it was a well-planned mission...he didn’t want to worry her with the details that people were always going missing on the train that he would be boarding...that all the swordsmen that were sent to investigate, fell silent..and that initially, he would be fighting alone. No, there was no need to worry her with the obvious factor that dying was not an outlier in this mission.. He would do what he always did...He would fight for what’s right, she would work past daylight and they would reunite..soon enough, to be together again.

She expected Kyōjurō would be returning soon, and she didn’t have to work until much later. Surely she would be able to see him before she left. She did light cleaning, and prepped a meal for his return, although she hoped there wouldn’t be too much eating, she was prepared to hear all about his mission, from the moment he boarded the train right down to him stepping out the train and breathing in the fresh, crisp air of his home town.

.

Maybe he could finally take her to see Senjurō after so long, hope he’s doing okay..and she wishes to see Rengoku-San again..even though he didn’t bless her and Kyōjurō’s relationship from the start..she still wishes to know how he’s holding up, that’s just who she was, and how she’s always been. So caring and passionate; that’s one of the reasons Kyōjurō fell in love with her. Just one.

.

.

.

.

It was nearing 4:30 in the afternoon when the food continued to sit on the stove and the small pile of trash sat in the corner of their small common room; she remained positioned on the cushion, legs aching as it has been folded for some time now, awaiting the arrival of her Kyō.

She mentally cursed him because in 2 hours night would be approaching, she would be leaving for work and a new day would be among them, which would make 3 days he would have been gone. One day more than it would’ve..no, should’ve taken.

What exactly could be prolonging his trip. She searched her brain over the details that he had run by her that day, trying to recall if he had mentioned anything regarding his time immediately after his mission.

.

“....-and there may be injuries that would call for immediate attention...file reports and-“

Injuries. Of course. Patrolling a train packed with over 200 people, and the awareness of a possible demon attack, there were bound to be some injuries, right? Surely he would do what he had to do and return to her.

This pondering was going to drive her crazy, as many times as she’d done this, as he had told her not to worry for him, it was completely inevitable. She loved the man, her man, he was hers, and it was alright for her to worry. But every time she approached the point of too much worrying, he would appear in her view, into her arms, once again..

Maybe she could go for another plate as she waited.

.

.

.

.

It took Kyōjurōu a while, longer than he would like to admit to formulate the right

collection of words that would carry the same passion that he intends it to hold, even coming out of someone else’s mouth.

.

How could he find the perfect words for the perfect woman..the woman that came into his life when he was not aware of the need of her very presence..he loved her...he loved her..and now he was leaving her..he remembers every little detail about the last time he’d seen her..2 days ago, 5:45 am, he remembered her complaining about not wanting to go to work that day just the night before, but knowing the small dining shop was already understaffed, it would be painfully difficult to get this day off on such short notice.

.

He watched as she slept on their shared mattress, not making too much of an effort to take his leave quietly as he knows her to be the heaviest sleeper..he would be back soon enough, she should get her rest.

The early morning light, little that was, did no justice in capturing all that was her beauty, he knew better though.

He did what he had always done, he kissed her..her forehead..her nose..her cheek...he pulled away and smiled..he loved her. Yes, he would be back soon enough.

At the time he couldn’t pinpoint the moment that it suddenly hit him, he felt smaller in their room; it was rare, to say the least, their room was only so big. He gazed at the composition his mind had laid before him..it was like he was looking in on someone else’s life..he summed it up to be detachment, he was leaving, leaving her...of course it felt a little weird. He just didn’t know why it felt weirder now than any other time he’d left for a mission.

With a smile on his face, fire in his eyes he said to himself with confidence, “I’m off, but I’ll be back, so don’t miss me too much”

Something soft inside him almost persuaded him to turn to look at her again, kiss her nose again, cheek, forehead, lips. But, with his wide, bright eyes and passion in his heart..he continued out the door.

.

.

Now more than ever he’s glad she wasn’t awake to see him off. To see the fire in his eyes as he walked out of that door that early morning, prepared for any and everything that was to come with this mission.

He’s trying to keep himself from thinking of her right now, but it’s proving to be damn near impossible. He did a good thing today. So what is this feeling in the deepest pit of his stomach?

He didn’t act irrationally. But what if there was something he could have done differently, could there have been a different outcome?

He kept the damage to as minimum as possible...and nobody died. Not yet anyway. He knew he was going to die. No amount of breathing techniques nor mental strength could stop the outflow of blood rushing from the hole in his body.

It was getting cold. Which seemed funny to him, given that he is the Flame Pillar...was..was the Flame Pillar. He needed to talk fast..his mind was both moving too fast to grasp anything and not fast enough....time..he was running out of time.

.

“There’s someone else I need you to seek out...”

What do I say? He knows she would be sad. Broken, Devastated. Angry? At him for not returning to her like he had promised that night..his last night with her..their last night together...NO. What does he say?!

“...tell her..I’m sorry..”

She would know that he loved her...should he say it.?

“and that I love her..I’ve always loved her..so so much”

It’s really cold now..getting harder to breathe..the feeling in my legs is completely gone. My vision..I..I can’t-

“and..tell her”

Gods, he was going to miss her. Her smile, the way her eyes always lit up when he returned from a long mission, just to get tangle within each other in a hug that felt like it was never meant to end, the mere fact that they were created for each other, there was no doubt that she was made for him, and he for her..they were supposed to spend the rest of their precious lives together, get married, have kids. He wanted lots of kids, a big happy family, one that he never had. He deserved it. He deserved you.

He’s realizing that it was not going to happen..he hoped that you would forgive him..even if you say you aren’t angry with him...he hoped you knew he wanted to return..not only for him..but for you..to get to you.. he needed to return to you..hold you, kiss you, feel you..one.last.time..

before he could never do so again..

More than anything he wanted her to be happy.. because she deserved that..He wanted her to be happy with him of course, and only him..but-

“tell her...to be happy....to live on...head high..no matter h-how devastated she may be..”

..but just as his heart ached, and he wished it would continue to ache..it being the only thing tethering him to this life..just as it ached......his mind slowly became blank..he saw flashes of your smile, he heard the ring of his brothers’ laughter...his father was at his side..smiling..and...his mother?

Yes, his mother was there...looking upon him with the softest, most gentlest smile..

“You did well my son. I’m so proud of you”

As much as he wanted to long to be in your arms again.. He did the right thing...he fulfilled his destiny. He could go now.

and so he did.

.

.

.

.

The wall clock read 5:16, it was well past the time she had planned to start getting ready for work, as she sighed for the 37th time since she woke up, she knew she had to get ready soon.

She pushed her body off the mattress, she guess she could take a shower, trying to prolong her time until she had to leave for work was stressful... especially when you’re waiting for someone to arrive..

.

Startle by the sudden tapping at her door, her heart fell in her stomach and she was snapped out of her mental dreaded thinking.

See! All that worrying for nothing. He’s here.

The breath that she didn’t know she held was released and forgotten as she made her way to the door, swinging it open, making sure not to hit the swinging bulb above. Kyō said he would fix that.

She wasn’t met with sunshine, however..it was suddenly grey out, gloomy even..she looked at the boy in front of her door, and noticed two others in the distance, with their backs, turned away from her. Hm.

The boy tries to look her in the eye, but it seemed to be a struggle, he opens his mouth to speak anyway.

“Um, a-are you-“

She recognized his attire immediately. Just like Kyōjurō, he had to be a demon slayer. Younger though. She welcomed the young boy in.

He didn’t look like her Kyō however, not as bright, confident..happy? Was something wrong?

She started to think about saying something, but the boy began to talk. A heaviness hanging on each of his words.

“M-my name is Tanjiro Kamado. I am a member of the Demon Slayer Corps.”

She could tell he was holding up an act, but why. And where was Kyōjurō?

“I was sent to partake in a mission on the Mugen Train, along with 2 other swordsmen to join and assist-”

They were...on the same train? That can’t be right though...why haven’t Kyō come back...did something happen? where was -

“-Kyōjurō Rengoku, Flame Pillar of the Hishira.”

Wait.

“I am saddened to inform..y-you....that-“

Wait. WAIT.

“Rengoku-san....Kyojuro Rengoku...was killed in action...”

All at once, her body was frozen over and set ablaze by the worst of flames...was she falling? She has to wake up. This-THIS is a dream-a NIGHTMARE. No. She was snatched out of her body and forced back in..back to being in front of this..person. What did he just say?

“what?..” she asked with half a brain, not even sure if she was the one that asked it..it was so soft, she probably only thought it, but then she saw his mouth begin to move...were those..tears? He was crying. Was she crying? She can’t feel anything. She’s telling herself that somehow this isn’t real...but it is.

This isn’t happening right now...but it is.

This can’t be happening...it is..

This...it was unimaginable..that he could leave..me..he..Kyō..he would never leave me..what was this boy even saying?!

She knew all too well that she wasn’t hearing things..this was all too familiar to her..

.

.

you say your goodbyes, wish them luck...and you hope like hell you see them again. Because if you don’t...something got screwed up. You’re stuck...alone..replaying every moment to see if somehow you messed up. Did I miss something?... Breaking down every detail, to find the one thing you could’ve done differently. You become obsessed over finding that mistake..

.

Obsessed over that ONE mistake that could have changed this.. all of this. It’s not right! Not FAIR!

.

.

Until it drives you out of your mind..because life comes with pain..but times doesn't stop and wait for you to pick yourself up when you’re ready to move on.

She’s alone again..she’s going to have to grieve alone again..pick herself up...and fight for a way out..again..alone...without Kyō ...

But she’s falling...she can feel it...she’s falling fast..

“Kyō...”

it was barely audible..but she felt the words leave her mouth...the sting of where the sentence was headed..she wished she could take it back, but it kept forming..

“Kyō..please..n-no..“

Was any of this real...was she real..She sure as hell felt real..this pain? Was real.. more real than she could ever think was possible..

“d-don’t..go..Kyō..”

Her voice was trembling at this point. That..boy, was turning into a fuzzy green..figure..she’s sure the floor had disappeared.. her legs too..and she could hear wind..loud wind and..leaves?

..yea..leaves..

.

.

.

It was the first day of Autumn, September 22nd..

Initially, it was her plan to take a walk through the park to see all the pretty leaves scattered on the ground. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it before, she loved Autumn, ever since she was a kid. She and her brother would argue over who got to rake up the leaves first, so they could be the first ones to jump into the freshly fallen leaves, to welcome the new season.

She wanted to walk with Kyō through the park..hand-and-hand, taking in the beautiful scenery. She looks up at him, but he was already gazing down at her...his face was so lovely.

She watched as he let go of her hand, and grabbed a handful of fallen autumn leaves, throwing them into the air with joy..

“I love this girl!!”

This hadn’t been the first time he had said this to her, but this had been the first time she felt more prepared than ever to say it back to him...with that same burning passion that he held in his heart. Her heart swelled with happiness; she didn’t think it was possible for a person to be this happy. It felt..wrong. Like she had just figured out the key to life.. its purpose...and she didn’t want to share it with anyone but him...she love him. She loved him.

“I love you too Kyōjurō!!”

Her body disobeyed her, and tears formed at her eyes and gliding down her tremble cheeks. It was the beginning of Autumn, she wasn’t cold..the excitement was to blame, she was so filled with euphoria that it almost made her dizzy.

The way he looked at her, like she was the only girl...no, the only person in the world..nothing else mattered but this moment, here.

.

.

.

She couldn’t feel anything..not anymore, even the pain was like a distant memory..she felt..empty..she was empty..how was she going to get through this..what was next...Kyō ..

She can’t...It’s just...her mind isn’t working...she needs him..why... Kyō ...

Kyō ..

She wants to drift..off of whatever surface she currently depending on...and float off into where ever...where ever he was....she wanted..more than anything..to be with him..

to see him...

to hold..

...

..

.

Kyō ..

.

..

...

She was always drawn to him. He was the most alive person she had ever known. He was good, he was kind.. and so gentle with her. She had lost her brother and father to the hands of a demon, and Kyōjurō carried her through and out of that pain. She still thinks about the family that she lost, she missed and loved them every day and every night but....she didn’t have to go through it alone anymore. She had Kyō.. He was her Pillar...of light...of warmth...the fire she needed when she surrounded herself by thick, icy walls...He was her flame that got her through that darkness....

.

.

but now...

.

.

.

.

Go ahead and live with your head held high. No matter how devastated you may be by your own weakness or uselessness, set your heart ablaze.

Grit your teeth and look straight ahead. Even if you stop and crouch down, the time won’t wait for you...or snuggle you and grieve along with you.

-Kyōjurō Rengoku💛❤️

[ac3may]

" the wag diaries "

The Orgin Story

~ Charli Grant ~

~~~~~~~~~~

growing up as Sam kerr's little sister sporting greatness was practically expected from you

you were always striving to do better and be better

despite the age gap between the two of you competition was always strong in your household

and that didn't start or end with football

you and Sam had been challenging each other since you left the womb

who can eat breakfast the quickest? who's fastest to the car to ride shotgun? who can basketball throw the candy wrapper in the trash first?

by the time Sam had left Aussie Rules in exchange for football you were just starting to play sports

so you followed in her footsteps, therefore starting at a younger age than she had

this led you to challenging each and every record she set

progressing age groups ahead led you to play on the some team for several years

one of the reasons you both became as good as you were was due to the challenge of each other in games and trainings

who can score the most goals? who can run the furthest? and the quickest?

as much as the two of you competed though you were each others best friend

when Sam left to play professionally while you were still stuck finishing school neither of you were pleased but knew it was for the best

but at 14 you got called up for the National team, making your Matilda's debut a whole year younger than your sister had

as soon as you could after leaving school you made your way out of the country to continue your love of the game

initially rejoining your sister in the States, becoming a player for Chicago Red Stars

alongside Sam again!

after an incredible first NWSL season in Illinois Y/N is suddenly approached by an onslaught of clubs globally

your agents encourage you to move to Europe while your young talent is still so greatly desired

you don't wish to leave Sam after just reuniting though 

it's not until a late night discussion where she discloses to you her discussions with Chelsea that you reconsider

reflecting on how competition improved both yours and Sam's talent through your life you pulled out the only obvious contract to ensure prime progression

within the year you had officially signed with your new club and found yourself proudly dressed in red

yes. Arsenal.

what better competition for the Kerr's than playing at rival clubs across the city from each other

when you told Sam about your choice all she could give you in return was spluttered laughter

her flabbergasted reaction come at great amusement to you

"sorry, what?!"

"but is fine cause we're both in London, so we can still live together!":

"oh. we can, can we?"

but of course you did

you were still each others best friends

and if your stint living apart had taught you anything it was that you enjoyed living together for more than apart

there was never a quite moment in your household

that was for certain

so you found yourselves a place between your two training grounds

...well maybe not exactly directly, your managers wouldn't let you live in Slough

but Richmond was a good compromise

an important move to considering the lockdown that followed shortly after your move

the chaos was constant but you both preferred it to the otherwise silent alternative

"Sam?! what did you order? this box is massive!"

"ah, I was wondering when the bouncy castle would get here"

revenge definitely followed after she showed your new team your underwear

*sam walking past several 'Do Not Disturb' signs*

"hey, Y/N/N. are these yours?" *red snoopy boxers spin on her finger*

*Y/N flushing red* "sam! i'm training!" *laughter booms from your laptop* 

~~~~~~~~~~

Ngl I fully haven’t written anything in days, not even thought about it tbh. So if things are dry or I haven’t replied to stuff that’s why. BUT origin stories are on the way. Some are established, all are free for suggestions so feel free to give feedback and ideas

[outsideratheart]

Eyes open (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: This could be one of the quickest fics i have ever written.

This was based of an Anon request but I cannot find it. Anon, I hope you like it.

In the 85th minute. The game was 2-0, the win was England’s but Canada refused to give up. 

Leah stood on the edge of the box as Kelly sent the ball in from a corner. Everyone knew that your head was the target for corners so it came as no surprise that you are very heavily marked. 

The ball hit its target but it also hit the cross bar. With the ball in the air going from head to head, Kadeisha Buchanan tries to clear it with a high kick and it just so happened that you jumped for a second header at the same time. 

It’s as if it happened it slow motioned and Leah could do nothing but watch as the Canadian defender’s boot connects with your head and with force. You fall to the ground with a thud, there was no scream of pain and your body was limb as it fell. 

“Y/N” Leah quickly ran to your side. 

Lucy was kneeled beside you in a matter of seconds as she tried her best to keep you conscious. It was obvious from look in your eyes or more so the lack there of which told the defender the severity of your injury. 

“Keira you need to keep her away” Lucy says. 

Keira hated it but she knew Lucy was right. There was a huge laceration on your head and blood was flowing out fast. 

“Leah, she is bleeding and you’re not good with blood. We can’t have you the two of you passed out” 

“She’s unconscious?” Leah asks and although she didn’t think it possible, the panic within her grew tenfold. 

“I’ll be ok. It’s Y/N. I need to see her” 

Keira turns to to Lucy as if asking for permission.  The defender takes her shirt off so that she can cover the wound then she nods her head. Whilst Leah rushes to your side, Keira shouts for the medics to hurry up. 

“Y/N” Leah’s voice is barely a whisper. The way your eyes fail to focus on anything scares her. It’s like your body is there but your mind isn’t.

You can hear someone say your name and the voice is familiar but you can’t place it. You can hear people talking and you can feel something warm falling down your face but what you feel the most of the excruciating pain in your head. 

“Something’s wrong” your eyes get heavy as the pain consumes you. 

“What! No! Y/N keep your eyes open. Lucy what do I do?” Leah begins fearing the worse. 

Lucy freezes. You are her best friend and as much as she wants to reassure your girlfriend she can’t. She is frozen in the spot as she looks down at you and her once white now red shirt. 

“Y/N It’s Keira. I need you to keep your eyes open. Can you do that for me?” 

You try to do as she asks but your eyelids are too heavy. 

“Ke” 

“Im here. Leah is too and Lucy. The whole team is here” 

“It hurts” you try to move you hand to the source of the pain but it feels heavier than normal and then you realise that someone is holding it, that someone being Leah. 

At this point the medics arrive and the team move so they can treat you but Leah, Lucy and Keira remain by your side. 

When the medics ask Lucy to remove her shirt so they can access the wound Leah winces. The cut was about 4 inches long and it was deep. You would need stitches, no doubt about it. 

“Keira try to keep her talking. She is going to be in a lot of pain” the medics ask. 

You and Keira can talk about anything. It’s one of the reasons why you are so close. From serious topics to top ten pizza toppings, yet in this moment her mind is blank. 

“It must be bad if you can’t think of anything” you use every ounce of energy to muster together a sentence. 

“I thought it was only Leah you could make speechless but I think I have finally fallen for your charms” 

“In” you take a deep breath “inevitable” 

Leah snickers between tears at your cockiness even now in the situation you were in. 

“Always the charmer” Lucy adds. 

“It hurts” the throbbing becomes too much to bear as your eyes close with your body succumbing to the pain. 

“We need to get her to the hospital” 

The medics lift you onto a stretcher all the while Leah stays by your side. Keira pulls Lucy into her arms as they watch you leave the pitch. 

“I need a new shirt” Lucy says as she holds up her blood soaked one. 

“No you don’t. The game is over. Let’s go” Millie tells the team. 

Whilst you were getting treated Millie talked with Christine Sinclair and they agreed that they game could end if the officials were ok with it, which they were. 

Leah rides with you in the Ambulance while the others decide to shower and tell the defender that they will meet you at the hospital but ask that she keep them updated. 

Your body feels like lead and despite your hardest efforts you cannot open your eyes. You focus on your surroundings, you hear beeping noises and the sounds of someone crying. 

“Y/N please wake up. You’re really scaring me now”

You know that voice, you love that voice. Leah. 

“How is she?” 

Another voice you recognise. Keira. 

“She still hasn’t woke up. The doctor said that she could wake up at any point”

“Then why hasn’t she?”

This voice belonged to one of your favourite people, your best friend Lucy. 

“The doctor said that the body is protecting itself. When she is healed enough then she will wake up” 

You feel someone press a kiss against you head but not the side that hurts. 

“You really scared me out there. You have to wake up. I don’t know where you hid my engagement ring” Lucy’s voice is a whisper no doubt so that no one else hears her. 

“It’s in the same draw as mine” 

You slowly open your eyes and you try to sit up but your vision blurs as you get lightheaded. 

“Y/N. Baby” Leah is by your side straight away “don’t sit up. I will move the bed up” 

You hear gears moving and feel yourself sitting up. 

“Do you know what happened?” Lucy asks. 

“I scored?” You ask optimistically. 

“No. You got kicked in the head and got 11 stitches” Lucy explains. 

“Here’s me hoping that we won and I drank a bottle of tequila to celebrate” you move your hand to your head and wince as you touch the stitches your friend mentioned. 

Lucy and Keira laugh at your comment but Leah’s eyes remain on you whilst her own brim with tears. 

“Hey. I’m ok. Come here” 

You gingerly move over so that Leah and join you on the bed. 

“I was so scared. There was so much blood and you were so out of it. In the ambulance I thought I was going to lose you” Leah lets her tears falls as she nestles closer into your side. 

You want to make a joke about not remembering being in an ambulance but you know it would only add to her worries. 

“I’m ok and I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me Leah”

“Especially if she says yes” Lucy mumbles at the side of you. 

“What did you say Luce?” Leah asks the defender. 

“She said she’s happy that I’m ok and that I’m a good secret keeper right?” 

“I may not know what she said but I know she didn’t say that” Leah says confidently from the place beside you. 

“That’s what I meant” Lucy says whilst burning up from the gaze you are sending her way. 

“The girls want to see you” Keira says from the foot of your bed. 

“Let the doctor see her first then everyone can come in” Leah answers for you but her best friend’s eyes remain on you

“You heard the boss Ke. Doctor then team mates” you place a gentle kiss to Leah’s temple before tightening the hold you have on her.

[naivesilver]

Self-fulfilling prophecies, or: I think Rumple and Blue messed up big time, folks

Disclaimer: I am a comparatively recent OUAT fan, so while smarter people probably thought this through before I even watched the show, I have never seen it happen and thus can't know if I'm stating the obvious. Please bear with me, this is going to be a long post.

So prophecies! OUAT has a lot of those. There is an entire wiki section about them, and most of the early ones are offered to us by Rumpelstiltskin, because as we know, he gained the power of foresight from the Seer. But what exactly did said Seer tell Rumple, when she relinquished her power to him?

What we gather from the (cryptic) explanations that we get is that with foresight, you can see all the ways the future might untangle, and practising+physically approaching the time of the events make you able to discern which of those paths will ultimately be the right one. Bae's destiny after the Seer's first on-screen prophecy proves that while the future is highly dependent on people's actions, they cannot forcefully steer it in the direction they want - Rumple thought he could avoid losing his son by crippling himself, but in doing so he followed EXACTLY the road that had been paved for him.

We don't know, however, what would have happened if he hadn't spoken to the Seer. SHE knew, presumably, that by drawing him close she would put the doubt in his mind, but it's unclear whether he would have still left his son fatherless by dying on the battlefield or something entirely different would have happened. We don't know - and Rumple doesn't, either.

Here's the catch, though: everything he does in the first few seasons follows the same pattern of that night in the army, blindly assuming that it makes a difference. He micromanages every main character's life because he sees them as pieces of the bridge he HAS to build to reach Bae. He doesn't account for things going wrong because he thinks they can't, and he's fucking EVERYWHERE anyway, so nothing can slip out of his fingers.

But what if THAT is what actually cements this timeline as the "definitive" one? The Seer told him he would find his son again, he could have simply bid his time and waited knowing this would be the result anyway. When his first apprentice disappoints him as the curse-caster, Regina and her grudges still happen, after all. He probably didn't need to do anything to ensure it - if he'd just leaned back and spun his little wheel, the future would have come around on its own, one way or another. But he doesn't, and instead sets in motion a very specific chain of events, and thus the show happens.

Why would he do that? Maybe he didn't learn how to parse through his visions correctly and he thinks this is a "will be" future and not a "can be" one. Maybe that first prophecy didn't teach him anything, and he still thinks he can cheat destiny (as proven by the fact that when learning that a boy will be his undoing, he refuses to accept it, believing he can just kill said boy before it happens). Maybe he thinks he's like MCU Doctor Strange, who sees thousands of possible outcomes and makes sure the one that leads him to Bae the quickest will happen. I have no clue. But what I think has happened is that for any of these reasons, he made this destiny happen by KNOWING it would happen (or believing it would, as you'd have it), thus fulfilling the prophecy by willingly acting on it.

So Rumple fucked himself over, big deal. We have seen it happen multiple times after s3. But you know who else might have unknowingly led the future where she thought it'd go, in this endless loop we have just described?

At this point in the story we don't really have proof of whether Blue has prophetic powers of her own or she's just going off Rumple's words, but it does seem to me that the way she's telling the story has a bit more nuance than his version did during the Charmings' visit to the cell. So either she went back to pry further, from a man that she generally does NOT trust...or somehow, she's autonomously privy to details most of the others don't have.

But what does she DO with that knowledge? Does she work with what she has to guarantee Emma will fulfil her destiny? Does she trace very clear boundaries for everyone to stay within to adhere to her plan? No. She lets Geppetto convince her to lie. She allows him to risk jeopardizing the safety of an ENTIRE kingdom in the span of five minutes, which makes no fucking sense considering she has never shied away from weaponizing her influence for the sake of what she thinks is the greater good (which in turn is what made people think she was the villain all along, but I digress).

Moreover, some of my friends once had a discussion that, everything else aside, made me realize how fucking dumb it was of Blue to just LEAVE when Geppetto had threatened to do as he pleased with the wardrobe. What kinda preparations did she have to do, literal HOURS before a curse where she would lose all her free will and magic anyway? It was pointless at best, detrimental at worst, and the way I see it, PREMEDITATED to begin with, because while I utterly despise Blue and would have no problem calling her an idiot, this would objectively be a bad move. She could have literally lied to Geppetto about what kind of person could go in the wardrobe, or used magic to prevent the worst from happening. She has done similar things, before AND after that moment.

If she indeed knew, either because of Rumple or her own abilities, how shit was "meant" to go down, it's not too far-fetched to assume she might have acted accordingly in an attempt to guarantee the success of this plan. Even if there had been other possible paths to take, e.g. worlds where Emma might have gone to the LWM with either of her parents, and EVEN IF Rumple hadn't already prevented those variables from happening by that point...if Blue thought the only way for it to work was to stick to the timeline she had envisioned, then there was nothing anyone else could do.

To sum up this theory: Rumple sees the chain of events that develops through show canon, and either decides or mistakenly believes it will be made true, putting all his effort into ensuring it does. Blue makes the same mistake (depending on how you see it, obviously) and instead of forcing people's hands to change the course, allows Geppetto to make what she thinks is an unavoidable decision. By doing so, BOTH of them fulfil what they think is an already written future, but might have still only been one of the various options available among endless variables.

Besides, if they HAD realized that they'd fucked up in hindsight, I doubt they would have admitted to it. It would have been too late by then: knowing them, they would have felt forced to stick to their guns, to avoid considering the possibility to have made a mistake - ESPECIALLY Blue, who was already responsible for the start of this avalanche, what with giving Bae the bean and suggesting the curse to Rumple. It's hard to believe they would have been able to live with themselves, if they'd taken the option into account.

And in the end, what are the results of this proactive decision? Rumple and Bae's reunion is angry, unsatisfying and with catastrophic consequences for the whole family. Emma grows up alone, forced into a destiny she did not sign up for, having been ten minutes old at best. And as for the third victim of prophetic crimes...

Without these beliefs, solid or imaginary that they might be, there is a chance nothing would have gone as we know: the 28 years gap might have meant something else entirely, a lot of people would have been spared the pain, and an external hand would have prevented Pinocchio from being sent on an impossible mission, with a baby and no tools to navigate this world in his hands. Another child lost to the Land Without Magic as a pawn in a game played by two magic users who each thought they were outwitting the other - at least Emma got to grow and heal throughout the show, as an ADULT.

Did Pinocchio?

(OOF. This is almost certainly not what the writers had in mind when they planned the plot of this series. I am, unfortunately, aware of that. But I still think it's worth being put into words as a theory - I probably didn't formulate it as coherently as I hoped, but maybe the message will still filter through, despite the fact that I am 1) overtly verbose 2) tragically Italian. Unforgivable sins, both of them LMAO)