#I'll likely make a follow up to this at one point

[disparatemind]

WHOOPS I posted a bit out of order sorry O///O

Part 10

The quiet conversations slowed for a moment when there was a polite but hesitant knock on the door. When I opened it, a tall soul with a slender frame looked down at me.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” came a polite, soft-spoken voice, “but… I'm not sure where I am, or how I got here.”

“Please, come in, and I'll try to explain.” As the soul passed under the lintel, I started to close the door when I heard another voice.

“Wait!”

Another soul came running up to the cafe, and I gestured for them to come in. “Welcome, please come in.” The two souls followed me to the counter where they seated themselves, looking at me anxiously. “Coffee or tea?” I asked, as was my habit.

“I don't suppose you've got a beer?” asked the soft-spoken soul.

“‘Fraid not. This is a cafe, not a tavern.”

“Coffee then, please, with vanilla creamer and syrup if you have it.”

I looked at the other soul. “Coffee with sugar.”

Nodding at the two, I began to speak as I prepared their drinks. “I know this all seems a bit strange, but this cafe is a waypoint on your journey.”

“Journey? I don't even know where I am or how I got here!” the second soul exclaimed.

“I understand,” I began, but the second soul exploded again.

“No, you don't!” The soul jumped to their feet, sending the stool clattering along the floor behind them. “You don't know what's going through my head right now! You don't know shit!”

Out of the corners of my eyes I saw a few patrons rise to their feet, but I shook my head ever so slightly. “You're right, I don't know what's going through your head,” I said calmly. “But I'd like to try to help you, if you'll hear me out.”

The soul looked aggravated but gave a short nod.

“You're here because something happened to you. This cafe is between the realms of Life and Death. Think back; what's the last thing you remember?”

The soul seemed to breathe a bit harder, and anger was etched into their face. “Why should I tell you? What does it matter?!”

“Because she wants to help,” came a gentle voice. Both the soul and I turned to the first soul who had come in. “I remember being in pain, my body felt like it was on fire and like I was being stabbed with needles radiating out from my back.” The soul paused, and there was complete silence as every patron in the cafe watched the three of us. “I remember my family telling me they loved me, and going to sleep… and then I found myself walking and realized this cafe was where my feet were taking me.”

The soul looked at me. “I'm dead, aren't I?”

I nodded, my smile gentle and sad. “You are. The door you came through is the door to Life. The other door,” I nodded at the opposite end of the cafe, “is the door to Death's realm and whatever afterlife awaits you. I do not know what you will see when you go through it, but you are welcome to rest here as long as you like.”

The soul nodded their thanks, but the more aggravated soul wasn't satisfied.

“So that's it? I'm dead? I'm dead and you don't know what's gonna happen to me. That's all I get?” A fist slammed down onto the counter, making the cups shake. “This is bullshit!”

“Hey now, let's try to breathe a bit here, buddy.”

A familiar voice came from Life's door, and I saw Deadpool saunter through as everyone's attention turned to him. He came right up to the soul who'd been shouting and stood toe to toe with them. “Being dead isn't cool, I know. But you know what's even less cool? Taking your anger and fear out on someone who's trying to make this transition easier for you. Now, I'm gonna count to four, and you're gonna breathe in. Then I'm gonna count to four again, and you're gonna breathe out and relax. You with me, friend?”

“And if I tell you to fuck off?” came the terse reply

“Then you're no longer welcome in this cafe,” I answered, “and I tell you to fuck off, at which point you are escorted out. You're not the only one who's had shit happen to them.”

The soul looked at me and then back at Deadpool and made a frustrated noise of acquiescence.

“Glad to hear it, pal.” As Deadpool led the soul to a more quiet part of the cafe, I turned to the soul who'd intervened. “Thank you for jumping in,” I told them. “I'm sorry for your passing and losing your loved ones, but I'm glad you're not in pain anymore.”

The soul gave a pained smile. “I have to tell you, I was expecting something a little… different after my life on Earth had ended.”

“That's not the first time I've heard that,” I chuckled. “If I may ask, what faith or spirituality did you follow?”

“I was—am—Christian. No offense, but I was hoping to see the Pearly Gates.”

“You may yet see them,” I answered. “I have no idea what waits on the other side of that door. You're welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

“Do I get free refills?”

This time I laughed. “Of course. I'll even throw in a couple of cookies.”

“That sounds like a deal!”

You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.

[pitchsidestories]

under the mistletoe II Ellie Roebuck x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2032

summary: With a little help of Ellie's and Reader's Barcelona teammates a near kiss on Ellie's return to the pitch turns into a real kiss at the team's Christmas party.

author's note: Dear readers, we hope you had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrated it or not. Enjoy reading ! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

19 months had passed since Ellie had suffered a stroke, there were days the English goalkeeper believed she wasn’t able to make her return in goal, but her will was stronger and tonight marked her emotional return.

Ever since the blonde joined Barcelona in the summer, you witnessed her achievements as well as her struggle first hand. Both of you were in recovery together for different reasons, yet it made you bond over the similar situation.

As the season changed from summer to autumn, you went from being regular teammates to friends. Now that winter had arrived in Spain, you wondered whether the two of you could be more for each other.

The football game against Real Betis turned out to be a solid win for Barca with Esme, Caroline and Ona scoring.

Much to your own dissatisfaction, Pere substituted you at the end of the game. He told you he didn’t want to risk anything after your recent comeback but was happy with your performance. 

The words of your coach calmed you down a bit while you sat down to watch the rest of the game including the only goal from a Sevillian player. The team celebrated it like their own little win, immediately your eyes went to look for Ellie’s reaction who was clearly frustrated by it.

Nonetheless, it was a win that meant so much more because the goalkeeper had returned to the beautiful game she loved so much.

After the game officially ended you immediately ran on the pitch to jump into Ellie’s open arms. “Congratulations, babe. We're all so proud of you,’ you whispered in her ear, ignoring the fact that your lips were almost touching her in a perfect kiss.

The English woman beamed at you: “Thanks.”  Her face literally lit up and competed with the beauty which were the glowing and colourful windows inside the Sagrada Família. For a moment both of you forgot you were still surrounded by people until Kika reminded you.

“Move over, we want to hug Ellie too!”, the Portuguese forward chuckled amused.

Slightly embarrassed, you release yourself from her embrace, feeling your cheeks turn fiery red at her comment.

Many team-mates followed the striker and hugged the goalkeeper, who responded with a warm smile and said thank you, girls.

” You’re welcome, we've been waiting for this moment, and it hasn't disappointed us”’ replied Kika in a friendly tone

Curious, Keira asked her friend, whom she had known for so long at this point: “How does it feel to be back?”

“Unbelievable. I'm glad I can share this with you in the team too”, Ellie replied gratefully, hugging her sideways, knowing that the older midfielder wasn't so keen on physical affection.

Nevertheless, Keira was incredibly touched by the significance of the moment they were able to experience together: “You deserve to be here on the pitch again after all you’ve been through.”

“Stop it, Keira, or I'll cry”, the younger English woman warned the older one, tears of joy already forming in her blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry, don’t cry, please.”, the midfielder begged.

To save this situation, you suggested: “What about a group hug and no more tears for tonight?”

“Promise.”, Ellie said as the team hugged each other tightly to celebrate her return once more.

“Good.”, you nodded satisfied.

The wholesome moment was only interrupted by Mapis voice: “Girls? Don’t forget about the Christmas team dinner!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”, you promised as you all finally started to let go of Ellie again.

The blonde goalkeeper smiled: “Yes, I will convince Keira to join us.”

Her lionesses teammate cringed at that: “I hate Christmas parties.”

“But you love me, so…”, Ellie blinked at her innocently.

Keira knew she couldn’t disagree so she just groaned: “Ugh.”

“Count us all in.”, you laughed before you all started heading towards the dressing room to change. One by one, they all started to leave the stadium until only Mapi and Ingrid were left.

“Ingrid, you noticed that earlier too, right?”, Mapi asked impatiently, once the door fell shut behind Irene.

The Norwegian nodded: “Of course, amor.”

A smile spread on the Spanish defenders face: “I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

Mapi just shook her head with a conspiratorial smile: “You will see. Let’s go buy some mistletoes for the Christmas dinner.”

“Mistletoes? I think I know what you have planned now.”

“It’s the season of love after all.”, Mapi winked.

“And we saw that they almost kissed on the pitch.”, Ingrid added.

“Exactly. Now let’s go, we have to prepare everything.”

When you arrived at Mapis and Ingrids apartment, the Christmas party had already started. Most of your teammates were already there, standing in the middle of the room with drinks in hand. It looked like Mapi and Ingrid had to move some of their furniture to accommodate the number of football players they hosted.

You immediately spotted Ellie standing to the side, talking to Kika.

“Hi.”, you greeted your teammates.

The goalkeeper quickly pulled you into a hug: “Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thank you. I love your outfit.”, you replied politely but truthfully.

“Thank you.”, Ellie smiled back. “Who hung up all those mistletoes?”

You followed Ellie's gaze to the ceiling, where sprigs of mistletoe hung at regular intervals.

“Mapi? Ingrid?”, you suggested with a shrug but you also couldn’t hide how impressed you were with their decorations. They really went all out for the Christmas dinner.

As if she had been waiting for it, Mapi appeared on your side with a smirk: “Oh, don’t you two know what tradition wants from you?”

“We do but we’re not standing under one.“, Ellie replied laughing.

You nodded in agreement: “Exactly.“

Mapi raised one eyebrow at both of you: “At least you know, in case you find yourselves under one.“

Keira stood with her back to the wall, studying the parasitic plants above her with wide eyes: “I’ll make sure I won’t move for the entire evening to avoid standing underneath them then!”

“And how are you going to get your food?”, Ellie asked, her warm laughter filling the air.

The English midfielder replied with an embarrassed smile: “Well.”

“I can bring you some.”, the goalkeeper offered then gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Thank you,’ Keira muttered, incredibly grateful for their friendship, which has lasted since their time together at Manchester City. 

Still smiling the blonde answered: “You’re welcome.”

“When’s the dinner ready? I’m getting hungry?”, Kika changed the topic swiftly.

“It should be done by now.”, Mapi and her girlfriend quickly left their seats and went into the kitchen to fetch the festive meal that everyone was waiting for. Inside there was a buffet there every guest could get what the heart desired.

Just outside the door, the Spaniard stopped and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy expression on her face. With a mischievous grin on her lips the defender added: “Oh, look, Ingrid. A mistletoe right above us.”

Ingrid’s green eyes lit up with amusement: “You’re such a dork, Maria.”, the Norwegian mumbled into the older woman’s ear before kissing her despite the teasing comment.

 “You love it.”, Mapi observed confidently.

Her younger girlfriend admitted: “Maybe a little bit.”

“Want to get some food too?”, Ellie turned her face towards you beaming.

You nervously push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before answering: “I do, but the mistletoe.”

“We can avoid them.”, the blonde offered conspiratorially with a wink.

“How boring!”, Mapi threw in.

 Ignoring her teammate's words, Ellie stood up and took your hand as you followed her: “Come on.”

“You can go first and then I’ll follow you. Oh, uhm sorry.”, you apologized with heated cheeks while you stumbled into the goalkeeper who caught you without a problem, but now the mistletoe was hanging right above you, waiting for the next act to unfold.

You both didn't see that Keira was the one who was inconspicuously pushing you. Later in the evening the midfielder would explain her reasoning behind it to bring you figural speaking closer together.

In the present moment Keira waved it off nonchalantly: “Don’t worry about it.”

“‘Well, you know the tradition, I guess we...”, began Ellie, her cheeks colouring slightly pink as she felt all her teammates’ eyes on the two of you.

A gentle reminder came from your lips: “I mean no one’s forcing us to.”

“I’m aware of that, but what if I want to do it.” Much to your own surprise, she made this quiet confession, which rekindled the sparks between them.

“Maybe, I want it too.”, you agreed flustered.

A shy smile spread on Ellies face: “Close your eyes.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, waiting patiently for what would happen next. You almost flinched when Ellies lips lowered down on yours with the softest touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes, in case she might stop.

Only when Ellie finally pulled back after what felt like minutes, you finally blinked and found yourself too close to her face. She studied you in anticipation but you had no words except for: “Oh wow.”

“That was…”, Ellie started, clearly unsure how to put her own feelings into words.

“Absolutely delicious. Can I have another taste?”, you asked with an innocent smile.

The goalkeeper nodded happily: “Yes, maybe in the kitchen without all those eyes staring at us?”

You couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay.”, you agreed and followed her into the kitchen, ignoring all the other mistletoes on your way.

“Ellie, don’t forget my plate!”, Keira called after the two of you.

The goalkeeper shrugged and continued her way: “Sorry, I have to go.”

Keira pouted from the other side of the room: “Rude.”

“Young love, what are you going to do about it, right?”, Mapi grinned as she joined the midfielder leaning against the wall.

Ingrid appeared on Keiras other side, handing her a drink: “Thanks for your help, Keira. They really needed that push in the right direction.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kika held a plate out to her: “Here, Keira.You can have a bit of my food so you don’t have to starve because of those two lovebirds.”

“Thanks, Kika.”, Keira smiled, gratefully accepting the offered food.

“No worries.“

While your teammates stood outside gossiping, you and Ellie were alone in the kitchen. Every surface was covered with food or bottles but you didn’t mind. It was just you and her and no one else.

“So when did you first-…”, you started but stopped immediately when you realized that Ellie said the same thing at the same time.

“No, you go first.”, she insisted.

You cleared your throat before replying: “I’m not sure when it was. But I like your vibe and how positive you are even with everything going on.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I just have so much… love and respect for you.”

“And I loved that you didn’t pity me. You just welcomed me with open arms. And I like that you don’t hate it when I take photos of everything and that you’re able to just enjoy the moment as it is.”, Ellie answered, surprisingly passionately.

“You’re so sweet, Ellie.”

You watched her face suddenly light up with a smug smile: “And you know what they say about me. I’m a keeper.”

The joke came so unexpected that you started to giggle: “Then I’d like to keep you in my life.”

It was Mapi who softly knocked against the kitchen doorframe to receive both of your attention. “Hey, just letting you two amantes know that we’ll start playing games soon.”, she informed you with a wide grin on her lips.

Ellie quickly promised: “We’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect.”, the Spaniard nodded in satisfaction.

Innocently, you placed a finger under the taller woman’s chin so that she had to look into your eyes when you said: “You know, Ellie, I think there’s another mistletoe right above us.”

“Looks like I’ve to kiss you again.”, the goalkeeper replied happily.

Her lips felt incredibly soft against yours as they met in a tender kiss.  Warming both of your hearts on a cold December evening.  

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[defire]

As an abuse survivor, you are just fetishizing child abuse. Plain and simple. Call it a coping mechanism or a power take-back all you want, but it's just an excuse to write porn about child abuse. I pity people like you, truly, I do. I can only pray that you eventually see a therapist about your internalized pedo behavior.

Cw: RANCID ask ⬆️

I'm so glad you brought this up because I don't like to speak for people like you--I'd rather combat these opinions directly.

Since you're praying, I'll feel free to make biblical allusions. (Tw)

First, the word "fetish". My opinion: I don't find fetishes or porn too helpful for processing trauma--it's more like exposure therapy. At some point you do need to actually grieve and process what happened. I don't judge those who do that (you're not hurting anybody♥️), but that's not what Survivor Fiction is for.

When you're judging whether something is bad or good, you can use the "tree by its fruits" concept. Basically, if a tree produces good fruit, it's a good tree. If it produces bad fruit, it's a diseased/bad tree.

So let's look at what Survivor Fiction does for survivors specifically.

It brings healing. I (a new author!) have already received five testimonies that have said how much my writing helped them move through some of their trauma and see things in a different, calmer way.

Survivor Fiction brings peace. A surprising amount of the community--90.5% in a poll involving 1,543 voters--use whump stories to go to sleep at night. (Many trauma survivors have difficulty sleeping from flashbacks. Fiction along the same lines can offer an appropriate sense of distance from the fear.)

It helps disabled people. It appears that a strong majority of our community is autistic. Part of the diagnosis is emotional dysregulation. We need to be walked through how to do things in great detail. Survivor Fiction often walks the reader through the process of trauma, reaction, ptsd, and recovery.

It spreads awareness. Survivor fiction is often more accurate to real-life abusive situations instead of glossing it over--in other words, LYING--about what goes on. This can bring a 3rd party perspective to a current victim too, giving them the understanding that they are being abused and need to escape if possible.

For a more thorough explanation of why fiction about survivors is good and necessary, see this post.

Okay, so would "bad fruit" look like? Do you see any of the following from our community? ↙️

Doing these things in real life

Being generally hurtful of others

Hurting children in real life

Harming emotions by pushing unwanted content to people who would be triggered by it? (Quite the opposite, we tend to post exhaustive content warnings before the content.)

Something else that's actually wrong and not just a thought crime?

And here's the fruit of your words, which I'm sure we all heard the jist of many times before:

You encourage covering up evil. Trying to hide fiction that more accurately describes pain, abuse, and PTSD means hiding the truth. Stifling the exposure of just how evil it is to abuse someone like this. The righteous walk in the light, but the wicked hide their deeds in the darkness.

Your words are shaming. Shame causes pain to fester and act out in harmful ways, such as repeating abuse cycles, self-harm, and dangerous overreactions. Christian ideology here--shame is what caused Adam and Eve to hide from God.

You are lying. You implied that we harm people in real life without any reason to think so. And also implied that we want to be in the aggressor's position. Generally speaking we identify most with the victim.

Referencing Christianity here, if you're christian--Your words condemn the Bible. The bible is full of stories much darker than most of what is written here. You'll read about rape, and the cannibalism of one's own children in Lamentations, among other things.

You're hurting yourself. You will be judged with the measure you judge others with. This is because if you judge others harshly for their thoughts, you'll instinctively judge yourself just as harshly. You end up hurting yourself and others over something that wasn't even doing any harm in the first place.

Causing confusion. What you said was illogical. If it's fiction where the damage occurs, we should be blaming the fictional aggressor--not the writer reporting it. If it's reality where the damage occurs, we should be blaming real criminals--not the journalist. The truth is that writing about survivors isn't generally harmful.

In short, you're creating a lot of problems and not helping. Did this ask come from a loving place?

This answer I'm giving, does.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter sixteen: "What do you mean Wheels up?"

Summary: Stephen's death and Emily's kidnapping are a hard blow to the team. Spencer and his wife haven't slept in over 48 hours and fighting is the only way to go, apparently.  Word count: 6.074 Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind Ep S13 01, angst A/N: The Reids need a break from everything. And no matter wht you say, the "wheels up" scene is the cringiest moment in the entire show. Try to prove me wrong. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

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(Y/N)’s point of view

We waited for a few minutes in the hospital hall until our friends got there. We had called their family and let them know what was going on. Spencer seemed to be in severe pain, and there were too many reasons: lack of sleep, stress, hospital lighting… the fear our friend had been hurt, Emily was missing and Stephen was dead. My husband was clearly having post-traumatic stress syndrome, with no time to deal with any emotion he might have to face.

It got worse after talking to Rossi. He was refusing treatment until he spoke to Luke, Spencer, and me.

- “First, you, go through my pants pockets and find my keys. There's a little one there in a file cabinet in my office. You following me?”

The man had hit his head, was still bleeding, and looked at us like he was about to give us the secret location of the holy grail.

- “Yes, I’m following.”- Luke said, holding the keys.

- “Inside, there's Chicago Bears season tickets. When you get them, you call Matt Simmons. I promised him those tickets.”

So Rossi hit his head harder than we had anticipated. We tried to convince him he was under any drug effect, but he got so mad he called us “assclowns” and forced us to go to the BAU and do as he asked us. It was the only way he would accept treatment.

- “I can’t arrest him.”- Spencer said as we reached the bullpen. Luke and I turned to him as he covered his eyes with one hand for the hundredth time in the last half hour.

- “What are you talking about?”- Alvez asked him.

- “Scratch.”- my husband explained and made an effort to look at us- “The second I see his face, I am going to kill him.”

- “Reid, come on! No one could blame you, we all wanna end that bastard.”- Luke tried to ease the mood, but I knew Spencer meant it. He wanted to add something, but he covered his eye with one hand with a painful expression. I wanted to hold him and take him away from all that pain, but we needed to help our friends.

- “What's wrong with me?”- Spencer whispered as I kissed his hand. Neither of us had rested a lot, and his crazy hair showed how little time he had had to take care of himself in the last 48 hours.

- “I’m pretty sure it’s PTSS. You’ve been in hyper-vigilant mode for the last 48 hours, we haven’t slept, eaten or rested, and shit keeps going south.”- I replied and rubbed his arms. - “I would suggest you take some time off to deal with this, but we both know…”

- “I don't have time to process my emotional state.”- Spencer added and I just nodded.

- “That's exactly when you make time, right? You ask for help. There's no shame in that.”- Luke tried to help, but Spencer’s attention was lost.

- “Rossi's office.”

- “Yeah. I'll handle that.”- Alvez tried to continue talking, but Spencer stopped him as he started walking away.

- “No. There's someone in Rossi's office.”

My husband was right, Penelope and Agent Simmons were in the room when we walked in, and they immediately gesticulated us not to make a sound and to give them our phones. Once they put them in a little wooden box filled with Cuban cigars Rossi had on his desk, Pen finally explained:

- “Ok. Now that we are secure, I got that for Rossi last year. Not only is it a cigar case, but it's also a Faraday case. It blocks all radio and cell signals. I think Scratch might be listening to us with our cell phones, even when they're off.”

I felt naked as soon as I heard that. What had Scratch heard…

- “That explains why Rossi was so cagey in the hospital.”- Luke added- “All right. Let's find these tickets.”

But as soon as he opened the drawer, all we could see were files about Scratch.

- “What is this?”- I asked as I grabbed one and went through the pages.

- “Stephen was brought on board for one reason. That was to catch Scratch.”- Simmons explained- “That is his entire investigation into him. He kept all his records off-site, updating Prentiss and Rossi through hard copies.”

- “If it's off the cloud, Scratch can't hack it.”- Spencer added, making it sound so obvious it hurt I didn’t realize it sooner.

- “Have you guys read it?”- I asked immediately.

- “No. Prentiss ordered it compartmentalized, eyes-only clearance, but she also felt there should be at least one failsafe who wasn't part of the BAU who knew about it just in case of emergency. That's why Garcia called me.”

Emily fucking Prentiss was the best, no questions asked.

- “All right. Let's dig in. I mean, this may be our only chance at stopping this bastard.”- Luke grabbed a few files and started passing them around. I followed him and got ready to read and find my best friend. We had to bring her back and make Scratch pay for what he had done.

Spencer’s point of view

It wasn’t a good day, let's put it that way. The fact Stephen was dead and that it could have been anyone on the team was too painful to start analyzing. It got real. I had always been, but it reminded us we could go through the same any day on the field.

Monica, Stephen’s wife, called Luke and asked him to go with her to the hospital to see her husband for the last time. It broke my heart to even think that that could be my wife, visiting my corpse.

But I didn’t have time to think about it. We had to find Prentiss.

I knew my wife was trying to focus as well, but tears kept falling down her cheeks as she read the files from Stephen’s investigation. I wanted to comfort her, but again, we had no time to process, to feel sorry, to feel at all. We were against the clock, and every minute Prentiss was away was a minute I knew she was being tortured.

All I could do was read file after file and make a major effort to find a lead.

Until I did.

- “What? Prentiss texted Hotch?”- (Y/N) asked as she read the print I had found. Garcia stood by her side in the conference room and read the paper over and over again, still not believing what I had found.

- “According to Stephen's documentation, yes.”- I replied.

- “It must have been a coordinated attempt to share intel. Would Hotch have exposed himself like this?”- Simmons asked, looking confused.

- “No!”- me and my wife yell at the same time.

- “And neither would she!”- I added and continued talking as I wrote the last message on the board. - “I mean, she wouldn't rely on a hackable app, and she sure as hell wouldn't write, “A.H.,” in a text. That defeats the purpose of compartmentalizing the investigation.”- I rambled, starting to feel very irritated by the slow pace we had figuring out where Prentiss was.

- “It was a smoke screen.”- Garcia whispered, shocked.

- “Prentiss knew they had to triple watch their backs because Scratch has always had eyes and ears everywhere.”- (Y/N) added and crossed her arms on her chest, looking upset and tired as well.

- “Stephen had a background in counterintelligence. He must have designed this. He faked the Hotch side of the conversation to entice Scratch to make a move.”- I nodded at Simmon’s words as I turned and looked at my team.

- “The size and scale of which indicate desperation, a desperation he hasn't shown after a year of hiding, so why now?”

My question hung in the air for a few seconds, until (Y/N) said.

- “It’s clear that the last text hit a note on him. We know Scratch has been obsessed with Hotch ever since the very beginning. He has to be trying to get his location from Em.”- that didn’t help keep me calm at all, but I knew she was right.

- “(Y/N) is right, A.H. is a pretty big red flag. Maybe that's what brought him out.”- Simmons added.

- “Well, they used Hotch's initials in other texts before.”- Garcia suggested- “Maybe that’s not it…”

- “Then they found something else, something they knew would rattle him.”- I turned to read the message again when my wife asked.

- “What’s B-cap?

- “Geography maybe. I mean, it's mentioned in relevance to DC.”- I heard Simmom’s theory, but it didn’t feel right. To make it worse, my eye was still bothering me, I was feeling anxious and I couldn’t focus.

- “Maybe it’s a code name for a partner.”- (Y/N) suggested.

- “I can't see it.”- I whispered, annoyed. That shouldn’t be that hard. There had to be something there to help me decode those letters, and I couldn’t see it. It was so frustrating and irritating I had to deal with it alone before I snapped in front of my team. And my wife.

- “Hey, no. Why don't we kick it over to the team? Maybe they can suss out…”- Penelope was still talking when I started pushing her and Simmons out of the room.

- “No. No time. Get out!”

- “What?”- Garcia looked at me like I had just asked the most random thing on earth, but I kept gently pushing her and Simmons out.

- “Get out. Sorry. You too, chipmunk, please.”

- “What? Why me?”- the way (Y/N) stared at me was both hurt and confused.

- “I'm sorry, but get out.”- I kissed (Y/N)’s forehead as Garcia grabbed her computer, Matt took the folders and I closed the door behind them.

I needed to be alone and focused. I was exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Prentiss was in danger and I had to make an effort and figure out that message as fast as possible.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I stared at Spencer pacing in the conference room for almost an hour. It was killing me because I knew how much he was pushing himself to get the right answer. He felt responsible, he was taking the burden all alone, and it was painful to know he wouldn’t even let us help.

- “Did he even sleep?”- Garcia asked and held my hand, trying to comfort me.

- “No more than an hour. Morgan stopped by with donuts.”

- “Yeah, he told me he wanted to catch up with him.”

- “I didn’t get time to hug him. I really need a hug from Morgan right now.”- I whispered and Pen held my hand tighter.

- “This I might be able to help with.”- Matt Simmons said and pointed at the text on the screen- “Prentiss’ last text had to do with Honduras. Scratch's last known sighting before tonight was Honduras.”

- “Right, and we thought Scratch fled there.”

- “Right. Prentiss asked the IRT to contact our Central American sources just to see if we could find anything. Now, we never did. We also never stopped to ask why Scratch was in Honduras in the first place.”

- “Clearly, not for the baleadas.”- I whispered and stood up. I needed to move to keep my head focused because I was both falling asleep and losing my mind sitting there.

- “Reid will figure this out.”- Garcia said with such conviction I felt hopeful for a second.- “He's really amazing at this kind of thing.”

That was the moment my husband picked to toss a book against the window, shocking us all. He was like a madman inside that room, with crazy hair and crazy weary eyes. I ran over and stormed into the conference room with Matt and Garcia. But before I could ask Spencer what the hell had happened, he started talking:

- “B-cap is short for Banisteriopsis caapi.”

- “What the hell just happened?”- I asked, but he ignored me and continued explaining.

- “It's a plant, specifically a hallucinogen that's found in a tea called ayahuasca.”

- “We worked on a couple of those cases, I think. If I remember, it's like peyote.”- Simmons added and my husband nodded and continued talking.

- “Yeah, in multiple ways. They're similar legally in that taking them is considered a religious practice, and pharmacologically, they're similar in that both drսg cause you to hallucinate intense, geometric patterns and vomit a lot.”

- “Ok. What does this have to do with Scratch?”- Garcia questioned, still looking shaky after the book-throwing scene.

- “Well, Scratch has a cocktail of disassociative drugs to induce delusions, but a mathematical mind like his would always be looking for ways to tweak and improve the formula.”- my husband explained.

- “Ok, so he wanted to get this B- cap and use it against his victims?”- I asked him and he nodded.

- “Exactly.”

- “So he went to Honduras to look for it. He then brought it back to DC to experiment with it. Stephen and Emily came to the same conclusion and tried to pretend like they were hot on his trail.”- Simmons summarized Spencer’s idea as my husband came up with a plan:

- “We need to track down all practitioners of the ceremony in the district... Shamans, gurus, overnight religions that just hung their first shingle. He could be using one of their volunteers as a partner, either witting or unwitting.”

Penelope, Matt, and I nodded, but none of us moved. Spencer frowned and stared at us confused.

- “What?”- he asked us.

- “You threw a book at a window. It was jarring.”- Garcia whispered, still shocked.

- “It took me sixty minutes to deduce what should have taken me sixty seconds, and if Emily dies because I was too slow, I'll be throwing a lot more than books.”

And just like that, my husband stormed out of the conference room. But I wasn’t gonna let him throw a tantrum and make me feel bad about it. So I followed him.

- “Stop it!”- I whispered/yelled and grabbed his hands to force him to turn and look at me, as he reached his desk in the bullpen.

- “What? Working? I don't think it’s a good idea, all things considered.”- Spencer hadn’t snapped at me at work in a very long while, though it didn’t surprise me. He was exhausted, but so was I, and I wasn’t throwing things around.

- “Stop trying to do this on your own, Spencer! We are a fucking team!”- I raised my voice ‘cos I didn’t have any more patience to deal with him.

- “I know we are, but I need to focus! This is the kind of thing I am good at, and I am failing!”- Spencer’s voice was hard, he was almost yelling and I was glad the bullpen was mostly empty.

- “You are failing at being a team member! We are all worried sick about Em, not just you!”

- “Don’t you think I know that?! I am worried about JJ, Rossi, and Tara too! And they are not here to help us solve this case, so it’s just us two, who have barely slept or eaten, plus Garcia and Simmons!”

- “Exactly! Not just you! So fucking let us help!!”

- “I need to do this!”- Spencer argued and I nearly lost it.

- “Why don’t you take a trip to Mexico behind my back again then, maybe that would help!”

- “Oh! you were waiting for a chance to throw that to my face!!”

- “Stop it!”- Penelope grabbed our hands and forced us to stop yelling at each other.- “I love you both, and I know you are not at your best, so please, for your family’s sake, stop arguing right now!”.

- “Can you tell him he is being a jerk?”- I replied and Penelope nearly gasped. - “He is! You know he is!”

- “So are you!”- my husband argued and Garcia was now officially shocked.

- “You are making me act like a jerk!”

- “Time out! Both of you!”- Garcia raised her voice- “You are going to sit in the conference room and fix your problems while me and Simmons are going to find the ayahuasca dealer who is covering Scratch, and we won’t talk to you until you have talked like adults and not the annoying brats you are being!”

- “We don’t have time for this!”- Spencer argued as Garcia started pushing us to the conference room.

- “Then make time for this!”- she said and slammed the door behind us. She locked us there, forgetting (or overlooking) the other door in the room, wide open.

- “This is crazy, we should be after Scratch!”- Spencer complained as I sat at the conference table and stared at him, pacing back and forth the room.

- “We? Don’t you mean you, Spencer?”- I crossed my arms on my chest and stared at him as his face changed.

- “Why are you making such a big deal about it? I am good at figuring things out! Period!”- my husband stared at me, crazy hair, weary eyes, exhausted, and angry. I was sorry I was being mean, but I couldn’t hold it. He was in so much pain he kept covering his right eye with one hand, still struggling with his vision. And yet, he refused to stop and ask for help.

- “I know you are good at it! You are good at fucking everything, Spencer! But that doesn’t mean you have to figure it out all alone! You can’t just throw us out of a room ‘cos you need to think, and you can’t fucking slam books at a window and not expect us to be worried!! What the hell were you thinking?!”

I stood up and waited for his answer. He looked at me and simply raised his arms, like asking me a question.

- “You know this is not our regular case! This is not a normal situation! We are worried, frustrated, and exhausted!”

- “Spencer! I know that!”

- “Then why are you nagging me?”

- “Because I am tired of feeling you keep pushing me away when things get hard like I can’t handle shit!”- I yell and finally take the anger off my chest- “You don’t ask for my help! You wanna solve everything on your own! I know you wanna keep me safe, but it’s so frustrating ‘cos I know I can help you and you don’t fucking let me! Ever!”

- “You know I trust you! You are an amazing SSA!”- Spencer tries to explain, but I don’t let him go on. I groan in frustration and shake my head.

- “Not here! At home! You are your own island! I know things haven’t been at their best lately! I know having your mom has been challenging and I feel incredibly guilty because I told you it was ok to bring her home with us! But I just want to help! And you never let me in!”

- “(Y/N), I’ve had to deal with my mother alone my entire life!”- Spencer yelled like it was groundbreaking news.

- “Not for the last ten years or more, Spencer!”- I replied and felt almost insulted.- “I’ve supported you, loved you, and helped you with Diana since we were friends! I’ve loved her since we met!”

- “But she is not your mom! She is my problem! My burden!”- Spencer’s voice shook as he finished that sentence, and covered his eyes one more time.

- “We are not married just to fuck and raise our kids! We are married to share the good and bad things! I’ve told you a million times, that we are in this together! Whatever “This” is! Stop pushing me away or I’m actually gonna go away! Is that what you want?”

Spencer stared at me after I finished shouting. He seemed hurt, not angry, not upset, he looked at me as if I had just shot him, and he had never seen it coming.

- “I love you with my life, but we can’t go on like this.”- I whispered and took a few steps closer to him. Enough yelling, we really had to start moving in that conversation and fix things- “This whole situation showed us how much work we still need.”

- “(Y/N), all I’ve ever wanted to do was to protect you.”- my husband sounded so wounded as he said those words, and I felt guilty for having that conversation, though I knew we needed it.

- “I know, but ironically, you keep hurting me in the process.”- I replied and took another few steps closer to him. He held my hands and rested them against his face, cradling his cheeks.

- “I know I’m stupid when it comes to feelings… I’m sorry.”

- “Were you planning to tell me about Mexico or did you actually think you could keep it from me forever?”- I asked him and he took a deep breath before replying.

- “I really wanted to tell you. I've felt like shit since it happened.”

- “Did it just happen once?”

- “Yes. I planned a second trip but never made it.”

- “Why didn’t you? You felt guilty?”

- “That, and the kids got sick that weekend. I could never leave you alone with them.”- Spencer confessed and he closed his eyes as if the thought brought him pain. He looked ashamed. - “I’m so sorry.”

I wrapped my arms around Spencer and he held me so tight against his body, I had trouble breathing for a second.

- “I hate when Cat Adams gets into my head.”- I whispered against his chest and my husband kissed the top of my head.

- “It was my fault, I let her get too close this time.”

- “Fuck yeah you did, she even sat on your lap.”- I looked at him and he caressed my cheeks carefully and slowly as he stared into my eyes.

- “I did what I could to get my mother home safe.” - Spencer’s voice was so apologetic my chest tightened as I heard him.

- “I know… but it doesn’t mean it was nice to hear, or watch.”

- “You know you are the only woman on earth for me.”- he added quickly as he raised my chin with his index finger, forcing me to lock eyes with him.

- “Derek might add other planets to that list as well, Space Boy.”- I teased and Spencer sighed, nodding.

- “True.”- he held me a few more minutes, letting the whole argument sink in.- “I don’t want to push you away.”

- “I know… it comes naturally when you are under pressure. You shut everybody out.”

He didn’t say anything else, I knew what he was thinking. A part of him wanted to apologize, the rest of his brain kept thinking about Emily. I sighed and looked at him, as my hands tried to fix his messy and crazy hair a little.

- “We’ll figure it out. Now let’s bring Em back.”

Spencer’s point of view

(Y/N) and I were still reading some of the files with Scratch’s intel Stephen had collected over the recent months when our cell phone rang. We both read the text, it was an address. Matt and Penelope had a location. They were on their way.

- “We are ten minutes closer.”- I whispered and my wife dropped the file on the table.

- “Hurry!”

We both knew we shouldn’t be doing that, neither of us had slept, I could barely see with one eye and my mental health was… unhealthy, to call it somehow decent. I was ignoring all the signs of burnout, anxiety, and panic attacks because I didn’t have time to deal with it. And my poor wife was unquestionably exhausted.

I kept the AC ice cold, trying to keep (Y/N) awake as she drove. The cold could help her stay focused, because it has a stimulating effect on your body, helping to counteract drowsiness, as well as improve mental clarity and alertness.

- “I’m fucking freezing.”- she whispered.

- “I’m trying to keep you awake, chipmunk.”- I replied and rubbed her leg.

- “I’m about to start singing all the Frozen songs.”- I chuckled remembering Raven would force us to watch that movie at least once a week back then. Even my mother knew some of the songs.

- “Did you double-check your bulletproof vest?”- I knew I had checked it myself, but I had to ask again.

- “Yes, you?”

- “Yes.”- she parked and we basically jumped out of the SUV.

- “You take right, I take left.”- I suggested but my wife shook her head even before I was done talking.

- “We are not splitting. We walk in together and walk out together. Is it clear?”

- “Yes ma'am.”

We rushed inside and less than a minute later, we heard the first gunshot. The place was a three-floor warehouse. We ran toward the sound, in hopes of finding Emily. My wife was right behind me, both our guns pointing around us the entire time.

And then, I saw her, Em, running up the stairs as Scratch tried to catch her.

- “FBI!”- I shouted and pulled the trigger. But I didn’t get him, I couldn’t even focus my gaze. He shot back, and I had to take two steps back, pushing my wife behind me to keep her safe.

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered as she nodded.

- “Are you?”

- “Yes, let’s go, Emily is on the run.”

We went upstairs but didn’t find anything. Instead, we heard Alvez’s voice from the first floor and decided to regroup with him.

- “Prentiss!”- I yelled as soon as I heard another gunshot. I was on edge, ‘cos I knew at the sight of Scratch I wasn’t going to talk to him, I wasn’t hoping for an interrogation or even to see him rot in jail. No. I wanted to be the one to put a bullet in that man’s head. I needed to see him bleed and get cold to be sure no one else in my family was ever going to be threatened by him.

- “Lower your weapon, damn it!”- Prentiss whispered as I found her and Matt behind some boxes on the first floor.

- “Where is Scratch?”- I asked immediately.

- “He is upstairs.”- Em whispered.- “Tag in here, Simmons and Alvez can box him in.”

- “No, I need to go find him.”

- “No, no, no, Spence. Please. I need someone I know is real right now, all right?”- Emily begged me and my wife moved closer to her and wrapped her arms around her. Simmons took his chance and ran away to catch Scratch. When my wife moved from Emily, I wrapped my arms around Prentiss and held her close to me.

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered as Prentiss nodded and tried not to cry.

- “Do you wanna go to the car?”- (Y/N) asked.- “This whole floor is clear. Scratch was alone here. Cocky bastard.”

- “Yeah, I need to get out of here.”- Emily replied. I held her and helped her walk as my wife grabbed her from the other side and supported her weight too,-

- “Scratch is down.”- we heard Alvez’s voice on the monitor a few seconds later.- “I repeat, Scratch is down.”

And though the nightmare was over, I didn’t feel relieved at all.

- “He fell, trying to escape.”- Luke explained to us as we stood next to the body. It made his death real, but it didn’t help with closure. It felt oddly wrong. The bastard was dead but all the pain he had caused was still here, hunting us. Knowing he was gone wasn’t enough to make it go away.

Coming back home to our kids was all we needed. That day, after visiting the team at the hospital, and dragging Emily along for a check-up, we went to Sofia’s and spent the rest of the day with our babies and my mother. Raven was so happy to see us she didn't let either of us go the entire day. Not even for nap time. (Y/N) held Vincent most of the time, she didn’t want to let him go, even when our 22-month-old wasn’t very excited to be stopped from running around.

- “We need time off from work.”- my wife whispered as we both lay on her old bed, holding our sleepy babies close to us.

- “We do.”- I replied and moved my hand from Raven’s back to my wife’s leg, rubbing it carefully a few times.

- “Maybe permanently.”- she added after a few seconds. But I didn't have an answer for those words. Not yet at least. So I just closed my eyes and sighed, ready to fall asleep.

(Y/N)’s point of view

Stephens’ funeral was something I wasn’t ready to deal with. I still felt overwhelmed by everything that had happened, and I didn’t feel prepared to face Monica, his wife. When I saw her sitting with their two kids, I kept seeing myself instead, crying over Spencer’s casket.

I didn’t know how to deal with the angst that that image produced me. I just held my husband’s hand tight as we stood next to Penelope and Simmons. Speeches were said, and people spoke about Stephen’s incredible career, his brilliant mind, and his good heart. All the things we were never going to share with him.

Somehow, Emily was strong enough to say some words at the ceremony. Being in a cemetery wasn't doing any good for anyone’s mental health at the moment, but we loved Stephen too much not to be there to say one last goodbye.

- “We never get to say good-bye the way we want, and when we deal with a loss so sudden and cruel, our emotions can overwhelm us.”

Prentiss’ voice was clear and strong. I bit my lips to stop crying, and Spencer wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head.

- “Stephen Walker was a good agent, but he was a better man. He made the world a better place, and we can honor him by doing the work he never got to do.”

He never got to watch his kids grow. He never got to kiss his wife one more time. He didn’t get to retire, have a life, catch Mr. Scratch, and watch how he made the world a better place. There were too many things Stephen didn’t get to do, and all that ‘cos a psycho killer murdered him. I just sobbed and hid my face in Spencer’s shirt. He held me tight and didn’t let me go during the entire ceremony.

I couldn't even talk to Monica, I was too affected. However, I watched Emily and JJ talking with her, so after they lowered the casket and most people were gone, Spencer whispered in my ear:

- “Ready to go?”- and I just nodded.

- “Prentiss asked us to meet her at the BAU.”- Mat announced to us as we started walking. I didn’t want to go there, I wanted to go home and be with my kids. But I knew if Em wanted us to go to the BAU, it was serious. It wasn’t a meeting at Rossi’s after something had emotionally affected the team, it was formal.

When we walked into the conference room, Emily was waiting for us. She stood alone, like taking the room in. God knows how fucked up she was after being taken by Scratch, we had very little time to talk to her. We had little time for anything and everything at that moment. Rossi stood by her side as we all heard her saying to Matt.

- “I wanted to thank you for all of your help.”

- “Well, it was good to be of help. Ever since the IRT went down, I've been sitting on my hands waiting for a new assignment.”- he replied with a short smile.

- “We should sit down tomorrow. We can talk about that.”- Em suggested with a nod.

- “I'd like that.”

I don’t know why knowing there was a chance Matt joined the team made me feel better about my constant thoughts of leaving. Maybe ‘cos it meant someone else could step in and take our place.

- “So we all need to discuss what Peter Lewis' death means for this team.”- Emily was in full chief-of-department mode. Spencer, who was standing by my side, held my hand and intertwined our fingers as he kept looking at Prentiss.

- “It means that Hotch can come back.”- Penelope suggested, which I hadn’t thought about to be honest. Would he like to come back to this job? A job I didn’t know if I wanted anymore?

- “Yeah. We spoke to him. He was relieved that he and Jack were out of danger. They're out of Witness Protection, but...”- Rossi paused as if he didn’t want to break our hearts with the truth.

- “He's not coming back, is he?- JJ finished his sentence and David just nodded.

- “He loves being a full-time dad.”- Prentiss added- “He never got to do that before, and, let's face it, in this job…”

- “There's always gonna be another Scratch, and he's lost enough.”- Rossi’s words were somber, but filled with honesty. Of us all, Aaron Hotchner was the one person who had been forced to sacrifice too much for the team, for the victims, for the benefit of the Bureau. He deserved a life out of that madness and just be happy. Who knew? Maybe Beth could take him back after all those years.

- “We all have.”- Tara pointed out and looked at me. Of course, she knew I was a mess. But to be fair, we were all destroyed after those last couple of days.

- “Yes. We have, which is why the director has ordered us to take some time off from handling cases.”

At that moment right here, I felt like a whole brick wall had been lifted from my shoulders.

- “But before we all leave, there's one last thing I need to say.”- Prentiss continued talking. - “Scratch got deeper into my head than I care to admit, and the only way I was able to stay sane was by repeating a mantra, two words. You know what those two words were?”

- “Fuck you?”- I asked, but Prentiss shook her head.

- “Wheels up. It saved my life when I wasn't sure I was gonna make it because it reminded me that you were out there fighting, so take your rest... You've earned it. But when we get back, wheels up, Matt.”- Em turned to Simmons and he looked at Rossi for a second before answering:

- “Wheels up, Emily.”

- “Wheels up, Tara.”- Prentiss asked and I closed my eyes for a second, feeling the anxiety filling my body. My friend was about to ask us all one by one if we committed to the team after our weeks off and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life.

- “Wheels up.”- Lewis replied with a short smile.

- “Wheels up.”- JJ said before she was asked to answer,

- “Wheels up.” - Penelope did the same, and her voice cracked slightly.

- “Wheels up.” - Luke added

- “Damn right, wheels up.”- Rossi gave it a twist and then turned to my husband. His hand was still holding mine and I gave it a little squeeze. He looked at me and then at the people around us and finally nodded as he replied.

- “Wheels up.”

And then, they all stared at me. I didn’t know what to answer; I was feeling my peers’ pressure. So I opened my mouth and before I knew it, I heard myself saying.

- “Wheels up.”

And I immediately regretted it. 

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[hermanoga]

My last argument before Yingdu drops : Shiguang will get a Happy Ending Beginning at the end of Link Click

translation : Waiting for you to come and want me!

Come and marry me!

The song that plays at the end, it contextually and thematically intertwines the narratives of the older couple and Shiguang together. It talks about perseverance, memory, time, waiting, love (quintessential themes of Shakespearean sonnet!) and a promise to be together till the end.

The song is called Shíguāng Jiāohuì Wǒ De or "What Time Has Taught Me"

This time, I'll quietly watch you leave Don't look back Just let the tears drown me ceaselessly After so long, I still don't understand What I should've done in that moment Would everything change because of that? That naive me of yesterday Left behind too many inconclusive answers All the people I hold dear, thank you for having appeared in my life Smile and have faith The you still innocent in my heart With unwavering conviction, go forth and chase The moment when your heart's desire nears I've gotten used to it, flipping through All that time has slowly walked through Every single brand new day Please shine brightly and wait for me I watch as it all scatters in the wind I turn back once more Stubborn and unyielding, I stride forwards Oh, it's as if the shadow of time is pulling me by the hand Outfitting myself with you and my courage Even if we, insignificant as we are, cannot correct those mistakes As long as we dream in earnest, we can still love each other deeply Smile and have faith The you still innocent in my heart With unwavering conviction, go forth and chase The moment when your heart's desire nears I've gotten used to it, flipping through All that time has slowly walked through Every single brand new day Please shine brightly and wait for me The people that have left, the people before your eyes The ones that laughed and cried with you Go forth with courage and embrace Every single hypothetical of growing up The reversing, the receding Between parallel and intersecting lines, find a release What's been frozen in frame, what is cherished They're what time has taught me Every memory — the wonderful ones, the ones I've bid farewell to They're what time has taught me

Now let's look at the lyrics of 'The Eye' (even though, the visual significance is also very important, it complements the lyrics)

I wish that I could tell you the truth I've seen it a million times I stopped painting excuses red Even if I'm trapped in a rewind Rewinding right in front of the eye I ran towards the end of the line I heard your voice but missed you in time I followed every end of the signs But the clock tower bell only struck nine When the sun sets on this side of my mind And I thought it was snowing Only when the ashes fell on the film in my hands Did I know There will be a fire when it all unfolds We should bury the treasure along with all we know But I couldn't save you I couldn't make it to you Trapped in endings I don't want you to know So long to a bursting wave of blinding lights But we fought the tides, we fought the tides Till the river dried We splash velvet dye in the sky Standing still in front of the eye I still remember the way you danced under heavy rain Hold out your hands and embraced When clouds never seemed to fade away away away away Rolling thunders in disguise No matter how hard we looked in the lost and found We never could shine the moonlight underground To the point where we got sick of pretending like we are saviors Till we learn to carry on There will be a fire when it all unfolds We should bury the treasure along with all we know But I couldn't save you I couldn't make it to you Trapped in endings I don't want you to know So long to a bursting wave of blinding lights But we fought the tides, we fought the tides Till the river dried We splash velvet dye in the sky Standing still in front of the eye So the clock tower bell only struck nine And we followed every end of the signs If I heard your voice and caught you in time Are you with me to the end of the line? Are you with me to the end of the line Are you with me to the end of the line Are you with me to the end of the line Are you with me?

The narrative of this song is still waiting for the response, it's not over yet. Yingdu will increase the tension and I will love (crying) it.

I have already argued so much on this, this is the most prominent (and my favourite) parallel example I wanted to remind myself and others again. Joi, Shiguang!

[thekaratcake-blog]

Okay lets start immediately with, I'm not using race as a tool, crying hate doesn't absolve you of wrong doing and spreading misinformation, I don't need to be black to tell you it's shitty to justify the shit used to ensalve your ancestors, that's just obviously fucked up

Once again you immediately go to the rules for hebrew slaves, the year of jubilee only applies to hebrew slaves, the death penalty is only for kidnapping, whereas selling and buying slaves is explicitly allowed, but they are generally instead the children of the slave traders or of course, prisoners of war or slaughter, that of course does not make it better and is where a lot of the african slaves in america came from

You clearly missed my point about the shellfish, it's that god can prohibit shellfish but not slavery, you are seriously arguing that god will tell people not to eat a certain food but not bother to say you can't own slaves, I do not lack maturiy but I guess your opinion is noted, if of course you are using personal views of me as a person to try to dismiss my points however, that is what we call and "ad hominem attack" the slavery commanded in the bible for non hebrew slaves is of course, directly equivelent to american chattel slavery, stop using hebrew slave laws, you're seriously arguing that because they treated people in their group better it's fine and ignoring the ones outside of the group that were treat exactly like your ancestors

Job was literally punished and tortured by god to prove a point, that's fucked up no matter what you believe and it's also god directly killng children

My grammar and spelling is perfectly fine, and you have still failed to give a reason why we should take exodus 20 as direct command of god, but exodus 21 directly following it as anything other than that, you have just decided that arbitrarily because it fits your worldview, whereas it's context and place in the bible would dictate that it is, infact, divine instruction

Also if your god is that sort that even allows slavery to happen, that's fucked up, but you still haven't given me any good reason why it was allowed and not commanded, because again, everything else would say otherwise

You did a great job of dodging the questions about the slave's bible or god just murdering children

Kinda funny how you only address the points you think you have an excuse for, and what exactly implies I "desire so badly for my question to be answered" I honestly couldn't care less because I know the answer will avoid the real bad stuff and just use someone else's bad apologetics, however, of course, it'll reflect quite poorly on you and your religion if you can't answer these questions, so I'll lay it out again

Tell me the difference between the rules for specifically non hebrew slaves and american chattel slavery, as none of the rules you've mentioned up to this point apply to non hebrew slaves

Explain the existence of the slave's bible if you don't think it played a large role in american slavery

"Well we can't understand god so whatever he does is fine" is just a terrrible cop out, but I get it, you can't actually justify his horrible action so the best you can do with "well we just can't understand it"

And if you want, lil bonus question if you of course, are even able to respond or give a shit to, what's up with god killing children? The first born sons of the egyptians? And demanding a sacrifice of a lamb and the smearing of it's blood on the doorway to mark the children he is not to kill

And bonus 2, just the entire slaughter of the caananites

[rei-ismyname]

X-MEN #9 Review - Raid on Graymalkin 3/4

Crossover events always have a lot of moving parts, keeping track of them while driving the story forward in a coherent fashion has to be a mark of success. X-Men #8 started the event off elegantly, keeping the momentum up until the very last page when the two X-Men squads came face to face. Uncanny #7 muddled that up and didn't get a lot done by slowing down, but X-Men #9 is a worthy successor to the previous issue - it's kinetic and always moving forward, with enough variation in tension to make the big moments hit. Mackay seems to be hitting his stride, which makes me happy.

'They're not just mutants. They're X-Men.' Damn right.

Uncanny #7 put the brakes on by recapping and introducing petty conflict, though it did recontextualise the planning phase of the raid. Rogue came out of it looking petulant and irresponsible - something that I think it's healthy to just accept - I'll discuss that in her book. Here and now it's a problem that our Alaskan team have to navigate, the recklessness of allies blown up in everyone's faces. At least they've stopped fighting. As I said at the start of the event, one of the metrics I'm judging on is how well this event fulfills its promises - primarily a much hyped ideological divide between Rogue and Cyclops.

Immediately we follow up on where Kurt and Psylocke teleported to, after some posturing Kurt theorises that they're being manipulated. They start working together. Nice! This will pay off later without taking up too much space. Call it the C plot. The B plot is the POV of the Graymalkin command centre, with Ellis being the worst and downplaying the X-Men's effectiveness. Captain Ezra disagrees, while Scurvy confirms he's tampering with the X-Men's emotions. Importantly he can't do that and control the Trustees, implying that he was speaking through the Blob and Siryn last issue.

The fight between the two teams of X-Men and Graymalkin's forces takes up quite a lot of the issue. It's well executed with cross-team bonding moments and shows how well they can work together.

Ransom redeems himself a bit after starting this fight by stepping in after Temper is knocked down. There seems to be some chemistry there, which is cute, and also shows that Rogue's team isn't following her lead unthinkingly. It's a good character beat and a reasonable side effect of her poor leadership. The joint X-teams take out the trustees and Wolfpack easily, allowing conversation to resume.

I will say that Marvel has a habit of pairing dark skinned characters romantically, enough to give a slight creepy miscegenation vibe to me. That's probably its own post though, after my white ass does a lot of research.

The argument continues in the command centre, with nobody having changed their mind. Scurvy especially has a defeatist attitude, so Ellis slaps the shit out of him and lets him off the leash. It's revealed he claims to be the equal of Xavier telepathically, with Chuck conceding that he's a concern in the Infinity Comics, but what we've seen in this event has been pretty weak (except for controlling multiple people.) His offensive utility has been underwhelming.

Kurt and Psylocke agree that they shouldn't free Omega Red. Presumably they didn't read X-Force where he'd made a lot of progress reforming and responded well to not being manipulated or controlled. Kinda like Wolverine. I hope that's not undone.

The two X-Men teams are bonding even further, calling back to the old days. They reach a tentative agreement to collaborate, but then the sticking point from Uncanny #7 resurfaces. Ignoring Scott's valid question of whether freeing Charles is a good idea, Rogue insists they free him with no explanation.

Scott doesn't just disagree, he meets Rogue's absolute stance and refuses to allow it. They've both flipped to the opposite of their original positions. Scott wanted to break the prison and Rogue just wanted her people back. This is explicitly the leaders butting heads and Rogue escalates into accusation and chest poking.

Scott keeps his cool and explains his position, removing Rogue's finger from his chest. He makes an excellent point though it could be explained better. The guts of the argument is present, but he doesn't mention the many examples of Charles' oversized influence. He shouldn't really need to, though, and the closeups we get of Logan, Gambit, Magik, Temper and Juggernaut implies they at least think he has a point if not outright agree.

This is an ideological difference between the two, as promised, but it doesn't look like Rogue is coming from a place of reason. She doesn't respond to his argument or show any empathy for his uniquely informed position. Scott knows better than anyone what Xavier is like, having been his child soldier since he was 15. Rogue should absolutely know he has a point, too, but she's not interested in hearing it. Rogue delivers a violent ultimatum and Scott pushes back, standing his ground by putting his body in between her and Charles. It's disappointing in the sense that it's a bad outcome, but it's consistent with Rogue's cowboy characterisation so far. She knows best and isn't interested in talking about it. We don't actually know if Scurvy is still affecting them, as he's not controlling the trustees anymore.

Then this clown shows up, interrupting the argument. Scurvy makes a badass boast, though it's not quite clear what he's actually doing beyond 'psychic attack.' Nobody attempts to use Red Triangle protocol but maybe it doesn't work that way. It's implied he's a telekinetic as well, though his reason for believing in this 'dream' isn't fleshed out just yet. Working with Ellis I'd assume would be against his interests, and a new psychic rivalling Chuck should be significant. Maybe he's a product of 3K. My question is - if he can do this, why bother with weak emotional tweaks? He seemed reluctant to enact White Light Protocol but we don't know why.

Famously, The Juggernaut has impeccable psychic defences while wearing the helmet, so he tries to get the door open thinking they need Charles to take this guy down. I wonder if Quentin would be able to thrash him? Probably, though he was taken out last issue.

Surprisingly, Charles Xavier casually strolls up flanked by Kurt and Psylocke. Interestingly their faces are pointedly covered by hair, so I'm not sure this can be taken at face value. Chuck reveals he's not Inmate X and does a heavy handed title drop for the reboot line.

The issue ends there on another cliffhanger with Raid on Graymalkin to be concluded in Uncanny X-Men issue #8. X-Men #9 was solid, a slight step down from #8 but with the inherited responsibility to follow Uncanny #7's chaotic plotting and sluggish momentum. I give it a pass for that, though it would have been nice to continue the Rogue/Cyclops discourse in a linear fashion. That wasn't possible without leaving out crucial information and development so I give it a pass on that. Importantly, the promised ideological divide was actually developed. It felt like a genuine disagreement the two might have, and I loved the atypical layout that gave us the team members' reactions to Scott's reasoning. That's important as these people all have extensive experience with Charles Xavier and a stake in the outcome. Rogue came across as unreasonable and impetuous as she's been characterised this era. While I don't think it's a good look for her, I can appreciate the consistency. If this is where Rogue is at right now there's plenty of conflict and drama to be had there.

Part of the problem with this event's tension is rampant editorialising. We more or less know how this ends so the execution needs to be excellent. Mackay and Stegman have done their part really well, though I'll be reserving my judgement on the promise that needs paying off - the Rogue Cyclops Schism - for when Uncanny finishes the event. If that is actually Xavier I'd expect him to dominate the narrative but I expect he'll choose to stay as @mkpersephone theorised. That will be a problem for selling the ideological divide believably, but it's on Simone to land that plane. My one complaint about missing story beats is Scott's team being acutely aware of the consequences for the Raid. I think a reminder would have been helpful, preferably said to Rogue's face.

Looky look, a blanked out data page! How very Krakoan of them :). Who's your guess for Inmate X? Shaw? Legion? Colossus? Omega Red? xZibit? Exodus? Angus MacWhirter? Briar Raleigh? I've got no idea. Exceptional X-Men #4 review coming soon! ❤️

[meanbossart]

some questions about du drow and his blood magic sorcerer stuff (because i'm so damn curious about lore and sorcerer is one of my favourite classes haha). how did he become a sorcerer? did bhall create him that way and only grant him access to those powers later? did du drow just... not realise he had them until he joined the cult of bhall? did he suddenly stop being a sorcerer after he was infected with the tadpole? does he still have access to those powers but he just doesn't use them? does he still use them but not to the same caliber as before? i can understand not having them after being killed by bhaal and subsequently resurrected by withers, but if they are cut off at a different point, what causes that?

i think that's all the questions i have... sorry if they're too many 😅

(Technically there are indirect spoilers for A Novel Experience in this answer but I don't think its particularly egregious. EITHER WAY I figured I'd mention it.)

I guess sorcery is something bestowed upon him by matter of being a God's spawn, but there's no solid answer here and in truth, it's anyone's guess! He was born with these powers and had a vague but progressive knowledge of their existence as he developed. As I've mentioned before, DU drow killed his foster mother and partner at the age of 10 or 11 - he is not supernaturally strong now (well, I mean that he's only as strong as you would expect a 6'5", 250lbs man to be), and he certainly wasn't back then, either - It was thanks to his sorcery streak that he could take them out at all and swiftly. From that point on, he also had to escape the Underdark all by himself, where said powers probably came in clutch.

I believe that as DU drow grew older, a mixture of forgetfulness and aversion played a role in him pushing the thought of it out of his mind. He did not practice his powers at all as a teenager and focused entirely in what his body was physically capable of doing and enduring - he was often hungry, hurting and lonely, whatever weird blood magic he spurred up as a child, bore no relevance now. In truth, his powers are pretty useless for any purpose besides quickly killing something or healing himself.

It's worth noting too that this sorcery thing is purely in service of lore; DU drow is not a character that I play table-top with and so, his sorcery isn't supposed to function exactly like it would in a game. He has a blood magnetism/molding type power based closely off the Blood Magic's homebrew additional spells. He doesn't have cantrips or domain over any other type of magic like a caster character normally would.

DU drow can only do the following: Hemorrhagia: An AoE spell that draws blood out of a creature's orifices by forceful, magical means until either the caster's concentration is broken or all affected creatures perish. Ineffective against undead or constructs. (Based on the 6th level spell Haemorrhage from the aforementioned homebrew)

Universal Recipient: The human body is like a balm, and DU drow is but a pile of meat-putty; The blood and flesh of others can be absorbed to quicken the healing of small wounds, retain the vitality of the caster, and even regenerate the function of body parts. This also makes him immune to all blood diseases, but not to all blood conditions. This is actually a passive. (Based off of "Theft Of Life".)

(I have a desire to expand upon this but my other ideas are currently irrelevant and/or undercooked. So I'll leave at that for now.)

This is based on his theoretic conception (literally a piece of meat slabbed off of a dead god), and should also explain how he would have been able to survive infancy, childhood, and later, Kressas's experiments.

Upon joining the Bhaalist temple, DU drow would come to better understand and utilize his powers, but it was often more of a threat/punishment used against his own followers rather than something ever employed against victims. He always preferred getting up-and-personal with targets and sacrifices rather than resorting to sorcery, though naturally he still enjoyed the benefits of being Universal Recipient at all times.

DU drow does not recall ever possessing these powers following his brain being scrambled and the tadpole inserted. I can also tell you right now that triggering them by accident is impossible - his rejection of Bhaal as well as his death at the temple, however, did not nullify them. Once again, Universal Recipient does remain in-effect, but the benefits enjoyed by someone who's unaware of how that power functions is far too subtle for DU drow to chuck it up to anything outside the normal range of weirdness that surrounds him. As far as his friends and himself are concerned, he just heals really well sometimes.

Thanks for being curious about it! I had been holding onto this for so long, LOL. I'm glad to finally have a reason to get into it.

[ernmark]

When I was in college, a friend of mine got a job at one of the campus help centers where they're supposed to help students who are struggling get their feet under them.

Based on his training there, he insisted that he wanted to have a similar session with me in order to Fix me.

(This speaks volumes about the help the other students were getting, I think.)

See, the entirety of his assistance was sitting with me and creating a nice, tidy little schedule for my life in fifteen-minute increments, with tidy little spots for daily workouts and weekly meal prep. And he kept getting frustrated with me for not being able to put my activities for the day in any order, or assign them specific periods of time, or being willing to commit to following this militant schedule to the letter.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I'm a writer-- I have no control over when the words come. Sometimes I'll be doing something Very Important and I'll have to put it on hold because if I don't write this line of dialogue down Right This Second it's going to make it impossible for me to focus at all. Sometimes I'll be staring at a blank word document for two hours and get a sentence and a half done. Sometimes it'll be three in the morning and I'll have been writing for five hours straight but I won't be able to sleep until I get it written.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I have debilitating depression, and sometimes it takes hours to gather enough energy just to get dressed.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I don't actually know how long something like cooking is going to take, because every recipe calls for completely different cook and prep time, and I can't predict what's going to be utterly unappetizing until I look in the fridge for that meal.

There was no accommodation for the fact that I have a sleep disorder, which between the depression and the rest, makes it damn well impossible to predict when I'll be able to start sleeping, or when I'd need to wake up in order to be rested.

And that's what it comes down to-- there was absolutely no leniency or accommodation for anything outside of that ultra-disciplined, hyper-regimented approach. There was no allowance made for neurodivergence or disability of any kind. Despite knowing me for years at that point, he couldn't understand why I just didn't Try Harder. Clearly I'd succeed if I just did it his way.

A few things that did actually help me, for the record:

When there's something that I Know is going to occupy the entirety of my brain until I do it, I just freakin' stop whatever else I'm doing and do it. In my case, that's usually writing down whatever bit is in my head, but also it can be getting out of bed to make sure I turned the stove off, or making sure I locked the door, or paying my credit card bills in the middle of the night, or whatever.

A lot of my executive dysfunction is exacerbated by sugar/protein levels, so I keep a supply of protein shakes on-hand. It doesn't necessarily fix my depressive episodes, but it gets me out of those loops where I can't do X until I do Y until I eat and I have to eat first because if I don't eat now then I won't be hungry for dinner and then blah blah blah.

On that note: I can't control when/how I sleep, but I can control how many meals I eat during a day and roughly when they happen. Eating regularly helps to make the rest of my natural rhythms a little more predictable.

I have a short list of foods that my household can reliably eat and try to keep the ingredients for that stocked.

I do actually do a little bit of scheduling-- I set aside a few-hour-block on two days of my week to work out. Not because I Must do it, but so that I'm not preoccupied with the constant background radiation of "I should be working out more". If it's not Monday or Friday, it's not going to happen.

Forgiving myself for not being at peak productivity levels at all times. My boss will get what I have it in me to give them, and not more. My writing might not be at its best all the time, but it's a hell of a lot better than a blank page. Pushing myself past my limits to adhere to an impossible standard only exacerbates all those other problems.

[cryptid-killjoy]

When Mazzie asked Ellie if she'd planned on staying too Babyface knew it wasn't her plan. They hadn't even spoke about it. Still, put on the spot he knew it was his plan all along. He knew from the moment he stepped foot on the boat. He'd known long before that if he ever got the chance to step foot here again and get a do over what he'd do different.

This was it. He'd stay. He wouldn't have run away from Mazzie when she needed him the most. Hindsight made him realize that was biggest mistake.

So, he clenched every muscle as he waited for Ellie's answer. She was laughing and so did Mazzie, but it felt like a goodbye to Babyface. He smiled through it even though it wasn't a no. It was clever wording even a not so clever boy could manage to pick up on. It scared him.

The timer scared him. Her indecision scared him because of that clock. Come some time tonight the island would start it's feed and turning real people into donkeys. He needed the island to accept them or their time, Ellie's time would run out. Not just that but despite being wholly committed to staying, in his mind, it wasn't permanent. When the Foulfellows used to work the island they still left it all the time. Babyface figured he could work on the details of how to leave it later. What mattered is he was staying.

Mazzie laughed. "We skate all over." It seemed to diffuse her though. She was realizing herself what both of them were saying. The one she had been so angry with was the one pleading to stay, completely willing, and the one she was okay with was the one hedging. It gave off the feeling that they had no plans of ambushing her and trying to take her off the island. It made Mazzie have to slow down and think. She gave her memories a once over. It was hard not to be sentimental when these were the only real life friends she'd ever had. Everything Ellie was talking about was reminding her of the old days. No matter how many hard feelings she had, she had just many good or more.

Even all Babyface's questioning made her believe on some level he must have cared more than she realized. So, she looked at him real serious because she knew something he didn't. She was hesitant to say it.

"You'd care for the island like me?"

"Yeah. That's the point. The whole point."

"You're sure. Donkeys and all? You remember how it works?"

"Yeah-yeah. I know. I know. I don't care about all that. I can handle it."

"So, you'd forgive the island for everything."

"Yeah-yeah Alls forgiven. It's all good. Whatever."

"No matter what? You're sure?"

"Yeah. I said yeah. We're crew. Remember?" Babyface sounded frustrated by this point she was dragging it out so much.

"UGH. I'll see what I can do. Come on. Let's go find Jax at the control room." Then she went in for a hug finally giving the warmer reception Babyface wished for.

"And don't ever make me have to forgive you again. Ever. I hated missing you guys."

All the island boys were giving them side eyes but slowly backing away from area where they'd once looked like they were ready to pounce if Mazzie felt threatened. Babyface figured this was a good sign. He finally figured out the pace of the boys was the chaos of island's emotions. At least sort of. He was hoping if they were backing down that meant they were okay with him staying and he wouldn't be turned into a donkey like the offer years ago.

When she finally let go she punched Babyface twice quick with two fast jabs in the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you in so long. I just feel like I owed you some."

She'd start to talk more like a regular conversational Mazzie as they followed her to the control room.

"I have to admit, a part of me thought you two were goners already. Over time I started to assume everyone I knew was gone. We don't have any boats left. We stopped trying to leave. We had the paddle boats and the water zombies would pull them down. Flip them. People would drown trying to leave the mainland dancing unable to swim. The magic didn't dance on the island. We'd never make it back to the mainland if we tried. We decided it was just best to hunker down and live it out here. We could survive. There's been a few to make it but the island either rejected them, got the donkey treatment in the end, or even the few I managed to save succumbed to the zombies eventually. All but one."

He looked over at Ellie with a bit of surprise. He never saw Mazzie as some sort of hero trying to save people on the island even if it ended up a failure.

"Sucks you found some you liked and lost them then I guess."

Mazzie glanced up, "Yeah, they were Beagles."

His feet stopped. "What?"

It wasn't like Babyface didn't already know. He'd been trying to mourn, but no bodies meant he could keep a glimmer of pretend hope. His heart started to pound.

"That's the boat that made it over. They'd been spying on us. You and us. All of us. Trying to figure out what you were doing all the time. It's how they knew. I got the island to let me keep them. Your family was the only people they let me keep. Anyone else that ever happened on the island got the donkey treatment. Sadly, I'm sorry, like I said, the zombies just over ran the place. We're finally getting it weeded down and protected. We have barriers up. But, they're still here."

Babyface was stunned. Fuck those details. "Who Mazzie? Who? Who was here?"

"Oh, Big Time, the zombies came out of nowhere that day. There was nothing we could do. We weren't fast enough. Bouncer, spinning tea cup accident. Not quite sure what happened there. It was going too fast. He got real pukey and dizzy after. Then zombies. He's so big and strong and he couldn't have protected himself if he tried. Not right then."

Babyface looked like he might puke himself. Putting images to his family's vague MIAness to actual faces of death was a reality check. He put a hand on his stomach as he asked, "Wait. Stop. Didn't you say earlier that you had a survivor? You mean of my family?"

"Mhm."

"Well who already? Who?"

Like a movie cue she waved to the control house. "See for yourself."

Babyface Beagle looked over at Ellie and then looked up following Mazzie's arm pointing in the distance.

There was Jax's curly hair sitting on the porch with all the carnival lights behind them talking to a god damn ginger.

Of all Beagles to survive. Mother fucking Bebop was sitting on the stoop with Jax.

Fuck the coachman right now, Ellie just let out the biggest sigh of relief that Jax was okay, her head leaning back as she let it out, running her fingers through her hair. “Thank fuck for that,” She said, thinking of the curly-haired guy whose homework she had helped out with while he was a donkey, of the guy that always seemed to bring a smile to her face, of the one that she disguised as a girl so that he could sleep over at their house. “You have no idea how much we thought of you two. Seriously. Shit went down and -” Another deep breath, shaking their head. Even with zombies here, and the bad boys, she felt alright for the first time since setting foot on the island.

Honest John and Gideon - she didn’t really care about those two right now. It always seemed clear that it was Maz in charge, not those two. So to Babyface’s disappoint, she wouldn’t try to get any clarity on that.

Yeah, of course there was disappointment in Babyface. Ellie had been expecting that. That they weren’t going to get the warmest welcome in the world, considering that Babyface had literally gone and popped the Magic Man. And she knew that Babyface wasn’t going to go apologizing for it either.

Her face definitely reflected the shock at what he was doing instead. That was not expected. That was not what they had talked about. True, they didn’t actually talk about what to do with their future, but it always had seemed so open. Like they could do anything. They had no attachments anymore, nothing keeping them down. Ellie had the Laveaus and Aunt Elsa but distance didn’t seem to come between them, she could go anywhere. Babyface had his mom in prison, and she supposed now Black Arts Beagle but it was hard to trust the smooth-talker. He was too smooth, like a freshly waxed floor, and she didn’t want to go slipping and sliding.

So much for not making any decisions for Ellie. He might not have spoken for her right then and there, but his decision affected her too, and he had to have known that. He goddamn better have known that.

This was hard. This was conflicting. It felt like two separate armies - the hot and the cold inside of her - were clashing inside of one another and there was no winning.

This was her crew. This was her life. She had the chance to get Maz back in it, and Jax. The two people that she never felt right not having anymore. She woulda died for them, no question. She woulda fought for them too. And here she was, with the opportunity to stay here, in this place that felt like a personal Hell to her, with them.

But then there was the other side. The Hellish side. She never liked the island. She never liked the way that it made her feel. The bad kids, the constant screaming and noise and mayhem, the fact that she couldn’t even use her powers which was something that Babyface would never understand, because he never had them. Being repressed like that - it felt like having a part of her missing.

But there were heavy eyes on her, wanting to make a decision. And a yes or a no was something that she couldn’t give now, not without thinking about it first, not without talking to her trusted people about it.

The weight of the eyes was intimidating. Babyface and Mazzie both. She struggled to come up with filler, something that wasn’t a yes, but also wasn’t a no.

“Put in a skatepark and we’ll talk about it.”

[careforpears]

Illario was certain that Neve Gallus knew something.

By the time she, Rook, and Lucanis—whole and freshly back from the dead and with a beard—arrived at the Crow's nest of the Cantori Diamond, Illario was exhausted. He had spent the last several hours dealing with the aftermath of Caterina's immaculately staged murder, including making a show of standing frozen before breaking down to weep over the body with its face cut up and burned well enough that no one would be able to identify it, until Teia and Viago dispatched Crows to take her remains to Villa Dellamorte. He allowed Teia to comfort him, allowed her to fetch him water and then something stronger, allowed her to rub her hands up and down his arms as if trying to warm him. He grew silent and somber, gathering himself as she and Viago discussed next steps in low voices.

"Maker—" Teia gasped, and he heard Rook's footsteps, the detective's, and then the voice of his cousin.

"What happened here?"

He pounded a fist against the table once and recited a carefully rehearsed line with just the right amount of frustration and grief turning his voice ragged. Then he turned around.

The raw confusion on Lucanis' face was almost too much. A well of emotion took him by surprise, startling in its intensity and variety. Guilt, anger, relief, contempt, and the deadly certainty that he was going to make Zara pay.

Rook was beside Lucanis, and Illario could see the way they glanced at each other, already in sync. And behind them was Neve Gallus, the detective that had gone with Rook to the Ossuary, looking straight at Illario with dark eyes shadowed by her ridiculous hat. It felt like she could see into his soul.

Like she knew that two days ago he had been in bed with Zara Renata, unaware that Lucanis was rotting in a Venatori prison. Like she could smell the blood on him. Like she could look into his memory and see the way Zara ran her pointed, painted fingernails down his back with vicious intent, like she could see through his clothes to the raised welts left on his skin.

Illario fought down a strange surge of panic. That was ridiculous. She knew none of those things. He positioned himself so that she couldn't see his face.

Neve was quiet as they talked, as Illario learned that Lucanis planned to leave Treviso immediately. Planned to leave him to clean up the mess while he buried himself in his new contract. From Caterina's lapdog to Rook's, how predictable, how boring.

That thought was uncharitable, but it gave him a dull satisfaction that cut through the sting of abandonment.

Neve's stare was like a brand he could feel on his skin even as he avoided looking at her. When Lucanis and Teia left to gather supplies for him and Rook followed like a little terrier at their heels, Illario finally turned to her.

The detective had a hand resting on her hip, which was cocked to one side so that her weight was off of her metal leg. Her one boot was damp and crusted with sand, and her robes were a fashionable Tevinter style that wouldn't look out of place in Minrathous' upper city. She was curved and sharp all at once, beautiful in a striking way rather than the vacuous prettiness that he was usually drawn to in women. Under the weight of her hawklike gaze, his palms felt suddenly clammy.

"I'm sorry about your grandmother," she offered, and it sounded genuine and more gentle than he expected.

"Thank you," he returned, injecting it with what warmth he could. He sounded tired, and it wasn't an act.

"Did they leave anything behind?"

"What?"

"The Venatori." She looked him up and down carefully, eyes cataloging.

"Blood. And my grandmother's body," he snapped, then reined himself in. "My apologies, it's been... a long evening."

"I'll just take a look around before we leave if you don't mind?" Though it was inflected with a question, she was already doing it, metal leg tapping against the wood floor as she circled the large table to the seat at one end, where Caterina had been sitting. How did she know?

"Of course," he bit out, watching her with wary eyes.

Neve examined a tiny scrap of red fabric on the floorboards. She followed the trajectory of bloody footprints, gears working behind her gaze. Her hand traced a long scorch mark on the table.

"You think they were working for Zara?" The detective's tone was neutral.

"Who else?" In truth, they answered to him. A handful of agents whose loyalty he had secured as Zara had become more unhinged, more prone to sacrificing on a whim the cultists who worked for her.

Neve made a noncommittal noise, peering at broken window panes leading onto the roof.

Illario's heart rate ratcheted up, and he gritted his teeth. There was nothing for her to find, he reassured himself. But he still stepped forward, compelled to distract her from her careful inspection of the scene. He moved close enough that he could faintly smell her warm perfume oil and the hint of sulfur clinging to her clothes. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look up at him curiously.

"Before you go... thank you for bringing Lucanis home to me," Illario said fervently, holding a deferential hand in front of his chest. He knew his expression was warm and intent because it was one he had practiced.

"Sorry to be taking him away again so soon," she said, rueful. "He's not one to take any downtime, is he?"

"No. He never has been," he rolled his eyes affectionately.

Neve's gaze was already drifting back to the windows like she was thinking about venturing onto the rooftop.

Illario gently clasped her hand where it was resting on the tabletop. Friendly, not too much pressure or contact, but with a lingering swipe of his thumb against her skin that should raise goosebumps on her arms. Her eyes snapped to his, and he found that he liked the intensity of her attention in that moment.

"Truly, I am in your debt," he murmured, voice husky and catching with feeling.

He could see her discomfort the instant it bled into her eyes and stiffened her posture. Not at his closeness, he was certain, but at the emotion in his voice and the weight of his gratitude. He felt a little thrill of satisfaction.

She cleared her throat and drew her hand away from his to straighten the front of her robes. Neve didn't, to his pleasure, step away or become shy despite her sudden awkwardness. She held his gaze coolly and deflected. "Rook's the one you should thank."

"And I will," he assured her. Unable to resist, a heady urge infecting him, he leaned closer to her, eyes half-lidded and his voice low and deep. "But if there's some way I can repay you, personally..."

Neve tensed, and her face went from neutral to stony, baleful. She looked at him like one might look at a large, very repellant insect.

That sent a surprising, giddy thrill through Illario, along with the way her pupils dilated just slightly.

"Let us know if you find any intel on Zara's whereabouts. I'll let Teia know how to contact us," she told him stiffly and ducked around him to leave.

Illario smiled to himself as he listened to her footsteps fade steadily, and drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. That one was going to be trouble.

[wilhelminyard]

compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much - except aaron - (part 3) :

ANDREW :

"I said I would keep you alive this year. you make it infinitely more difficult for me when you actively try to get yourself killed."

"the next time someone comes from you, stand down and let me deal with it. do you understand?"

"you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs" "I'm not a hallucination" "you are a pipe dream."

"what would you give me?" "don't ask questions you already know the answer to"

"this isn't yes. this is a nervous breakdown. I know the difference even if you don't. I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be."

"I've never understood why he likes knives" "he will lose his taste when he has one in his gut"

"kevin is a fool whose style is numbers and angles. formulas and statistics, trial and error, repetition and insanity. all he cares about is finding the perfect game. a junkie like you can't be that cold."

"last summer you made me a promise. I'm asking you to break it." "no." "you said you'd stick with me if I kept kevin south, but kevin doesn't need me anymore. he chose us over the ravens because as a whole we're finally worth his time. there's nothing else I can give you in exchange for your protection." "I will think of something."

"spring break's coming. we could go someplace" "where and why?" "anywhere. anywhere at least three hours from campus. there's no point in going someplace closer than that. it won't feel like a vacation. the only trick is figuring out how to pry kevin away from the court" "I have knives"

"no one's said a word to them since they said we couldn't see you"

"if you tell me to leave I'll go" "you aren't going anywhere"

"I have to go. I don't trust them to give you back."

"ready?" "waiting on you"

"can I really be neil again?" "I told neil to stay. leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father."

"andrew could break our deal and let me go or break things off with neil" "he chose neil over you?"

"your close calls are getting old. I thought you knew how to run" "I thought you told me to stop running" "survival tip: no one likes a smart mouth" "except you"

WYMACK :

"I can't believe you trusted david to patch you up" "I was careful with him"

"you're a hundred times better now than you were in may. don't sell yourself short."

"go easy for a few days, would you?"

"are you okay?"

"neil asked us to leave the authorities out of this. I respect him enough to allow that"

"didn't I tell you not to worry about it?"

"I'm making you vice-captain next year"

"didn't you notice? they're uniting around and behind you. that's something special. you're something special."

"look me in the eye and tell me if you think I care who you used to be. hm? I care about who you are right now and who you can be going forward. I'm not asking you to forget your past, but I am telling you to overcome it."

"neil. talk to me. what do you want?"

"giving up on neil now goes against everything we are."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you but I couldn't" "don't worry about that right now."

"we'll wait for you, all right? as long as it takes, neil"

"I should be thanking you. you told us last night you intended to end the year dead or in federal custody. you could have shut everyone and everything out and worried about yourself this year. instead you agreed to help dan fix this team. you're saving the two I thought we couldn't reach, and you're a living example for kevin to follow. he never used to watch you but he's had eyes on you since december trying to figure out how you stand your ground."

"they told me to call them as soon as you returned. have you returned?"

"neil is a critical member of my team. you can ask any person on my line-up and they will all agree : we would not be where we are today if he wasn't here with us."

MATT :

"I want to break his face in six places. if he ever comes within a thousand yards of you again-"

"you okay?" "I'm fine" "for the record, I don't believe you"

"neil? we're here when you want to talk about it"

"neil? you good?"

"we're all legal adults here. we've made our decision. unless he wants to stay with you, you'd better bring neil back to us when you're done with all your questions

"hey, coach made us promise to leave you alone but are you okay?"

"they will get rid of me" "you're not serious"

"things could have gone much worse. I'm glad they didn't. you want anything, you need anything, you let us know. okay?" "okay" "I mean it" "I know. I'm done lying to you, matt. I promise."

"did andrew really choke kevin?" "took three of us to pull him off"

"we can't replace you"

DAN :

"neil? if you want to talk about any of it, or anything, or... you know we're here for you, right? whatever you need."

"kevin knew about this didn't he? he knew what riko was going to do to you and he let you go anyway. the next time I see him-"

"don't do this to us. don't sit here and lie to our faces. we're your friends. we deserve better than that."

"you told the truth. it's not your fault they don't like it."

"are you sure you're okay, neil?"

"go. but come back to us as soon as they're done with you, okay? we'll figure this out as a team."

"you're not playing. you think coach will let you on the court when you look like that? I'll sub in for you, neil. renee can help allison out one more time, right? trust us to hold the line. you focus on healing so we can use you in semifinals."

KEVIN :

"kevin called me yesterday morning when he couldn't get a hold of you. he wanted to make sure you were okay."

NICKY :

"don't you dare tell me you're fine. I can't hear that from you today, okay?"

"you can't have neil. he belongs with us"

"neil isn't a real person. it's just a cover that let nathaniel evade authorities. it's past time to let him go." "neil or nathaniel or whoever. he's ours, and we're not letting him go. you want us to vote on it or something? bet you it'll be unanimous."

"don't worry. andrew will protect you."

"hey, you good?"

ALLISON :

"it would have neen better if you'd come to the store with us. it doesn't matter. I bought out the entire row."

"I'm sorry" "shut up. no you're not. you're not. have you forgotten who has to paint you back together every morning? if you'd let them steamroll you yesterday after all this I would hate you"

"it is not safe for [neil] here anymore and it sure as hell isn't safe for you. it is better for everyone if he disappears." "what part of 'go to hell' do you need us to explain to you?"

RENEE :

"so those knives he brings everywhere are yours?" "were mine. he was right; I don't need them anymore. if you need them, he will give them to you, and I will teach you how to use them"

"if you want to talk more later, you know where to find me"

"will you be all right here?"

"kevin is very analytical whereas you're passionate."

"what do you need from us, neil?"

"I can do it." "I know you can. but perhaps it's easier if someone helps you."

ABBY :

"sometimes I think this job is going to kill me. seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my foxes. I wish I could protect you but I'm always too late. all I can do is patch you up afterward and hope for the best. I'm sorry, neil. we should have been there for you"

"let me take a look at you"

"it's over. it's over. you're going to be okay. we've got you."

"I dropped my gear in new york" "andrew found it while he was looking for you"

[bokutosbabe]

for your new event may i suggest chigiri and for the emojis i pick 🫐 🍰

of course!

a chigiri hyoma blueberry cake slice :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'll build a wall

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — chigiri hyoma x gn! reader, gn! reader, chigiri is a little shit, very anxious reader, lowkey they hate each other for a bit, cuddling, open ending ( but it is meant to be happy :) )

♡ synopsis — you wouldn't say you hate chigiri hyoma...you just hated you had to share a living space with him

You didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you’d been paired with Chigiri Hyoma for the marriage simulation program or the fact that he seemed so unbothered about it.

While you were stressing over the details, pacing back and forth with the program’s rules in hand, he leaned against the doorframe of your shared apartment, arms crossed, wearing a faintly amused expression.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said, his soft voice carrying an easy confidence that only made you feel more flustered.

“I’m not overthinking anything!” you shot back. “This is a month-long program. We have to work together, pretend we’re married, and follow all these rules. It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

Chigiri raised an eyebrow. “It’s fake. It’s not that deep.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You’re not the one who has to deal with you.”

That earned you a small smirk. “I could say the same thing.”

You two hadn't even gotten the chance to look around the rest of the apartment yet.

What else could go wrong?

“Are you kidding me?”

Your voice echoed in the small bedroom as you stared at the lone bed sitting innocently in the center of the room. It wasn’t even a queen—it was a full-sized bed, barely big enough for two people to sleep without constantly bumping into each other.

Chigiri stood beside you, one hand resting on the doorframe as he tilted his head, examining the room. “Guess they weren’t joking about fostering intimacy,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

“This can’t be real,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. You spun around to face him, pointing at the bed like it had personally offended you. “There’s no way we’re sharing that.”

Chigiri raised an eyebrow, his expression unbothered as usual. “Do you see another option? Unless you’re volunteering to sleep on the floor.”

You shot him a glare. “Why don’t you sleep on the floor?”

He smirked faintly. “I don’t think that’s what the program had in mind. Besides, it’s just sleeping. Don’t tell me you’re scared of cooties or something.”

Your face burned. “I’m not scared of anything! I just think it’s… inappropriate.”

“We’re pretending to be married,” he pointed out. “This isn’t exactly the time to be hung up on personal space.”

You crossed your arms, still glaring at the bed like you could will it to magically split in two. “Fine. But you stay on your side, and I mean it.”

Chigiri held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, boss.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of unpacking and adjusting to the reality of your shared living situation. The apartment was small but cozy, with a kitchenette, a tiny dining area, and a living room that doubled as a study space.

Chigiri moved through it all with the same effortless grace he always seemed to have, while you tried your best not to let his calm demeanor get under your skin.

By the time night rolled around, you were too tired to argue anymore.

You stood awkwardly by the bed, clutching a spare blanket you’d found in the closet. “Okay, so… I’ll take this side, and you take that side. And no crossing the line.”

“What line?” Chigiri asked, clearly amused.

You grabbed a pillow and placed it lengthwise down the middle of the bed. “This line.”

He chuckled softly. “Alright, if it makes you feel better.”

The first night was… tense.

You lay on your side of the bed, clutching the blanket like it was your last line of defense. Chigiri was on the opposite side, facing away from you, his breathing steady and even.

You tried to relax, but the awareness of his presence was impossible to ignore. The bed wasn’t big enough to create a proper distance, and every shift he made sent a ripple through the mattress.

“Relax,” he said suddenly, his voice low in the dark. “You’re not going to fall off the edge.”

“I’m not tense,” you lied.

“Sure,” he said, a hint of laughter in his tone. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” you muttered, closing your eyes and willing sleep to come quickly.

The next morning, you woke up to the unfamiliar sensation of warmth.

Blinking groggily, you realized with a start that you were no longer on your side of the bed. Somehow, during the night, you had shifted closer to the middle—and so had Chigiri.

Your face was inches away from his, his soft, even breathing brushing against your cheek. One of his arms was draped casually over your waist, and his hair, always silky and perfectly styled, was slightly mussed from sleep.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

How did this happen?

You froze, unsure of what to do. If you moved, you’d wake him up. If you stayed still, you’d have to endure the way your cheeks burned as you became increasingly aware of how close you were.

Before you could make a decision, Chigiri stirred, his eyelashes fluttering as he slowly opened his eyes.

For a moment, he looked at you, his expression soft with lingering sleep. Then his eyes widened slightly, and he pulled back, sitting up with a startled look.

“Uh… morning,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Morning,” you said, your voice higher than usual.

There was a long, awkward pause as you both avoided each other’s eyes.

“I guess we, uh, move a lot in our sleep,” he said finally, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, must be,” you said quickly, sitting up and throwing the blanket off yourself. “Anyway, let’s forget this ever happened.”

Chigiri gave a small smile, his usual composure returning. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

But as you went about your morning routine, you couldn’t shake the memory of how natural it had felt—waking up next to him, the warmth of his arm around you. And from the way Chigiri glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, you had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.

From that morning onward, the dynamic between you began to shift. There was a newfound warmth in Chigiri’s actions—a softening of the sharp edges you had initially bristled against.

And as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself no longer dreading the nights.

You still started on opposite sides of the bed, but more often than not, you’d wake up tangled together, neither of you pulling away.

By the end of the simulation, the lines between what was fake and what was real had blurred beyond recognition. And when Chigiri looked at you during the final presentation, his gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite name, you realized you didn’t want it to end.

“I learned that sometimes, the best partnerships come from the most unexpected places,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “And that trust is built, not given—but when it’s there, it’s worth everything.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. And as you left the program hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

this was such a late night write session

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[rabbitindisguise]

Idk if this will be helpful to anyone but a list of techniques I would use:

Confine the multipronoun character to one paragraph, and change paragraphs when another character speaks/is described/does something, noting the new character's name before switching to pronouns

Avoid dialogue tags altogether and focus on making the dialogue more obvious with heavy characterization and solid structure that makes who's speaking clear. Then later on you can sprinkle in some dialogue tags as looks appropriate once the reader grasps the character well enough to know what they would say in a certain situation

Use at least one neopronoun or singular they and use it in situations where the other character has the same pronoun but using names is way too clumsy

Probably don't switch within the same sentence (or don't make a habit of it). Unless you're committed to creating a multi pronoun user's dream come true narrative, it's difficult to follow because instinctively you're thinking "oh this is a new character." Much easier to describe them doing verb and then character continuing that verb with a different pronoun in the following sentence

Don't draw attention to it if you're not aiming to do that, it'll look sloppy instead of authentic to life. I've seen some authors make a big point of clashingly putting pronouns together and it's just not natural. Especially when other characters are speaking about them- even if someone is super good with using them equally, they often talk using one pronoun for one conversation/one day/etc and definitely at least for one sentence. But the MOST important thing about this is that people don't usually use pronouns for someone in front of them. So making a bunch of excuses for someone to refer to someone as if they're not there looks weird. Which could be the vibe you're going for- maybe you're writing a piece about gender and want it to smack you right in the face every sentence. But if you're trying to make it blend into the background it will not help to make a point of putting two different pronouns in the same sentence/same paragraph/same interaction with other characters.

Have pronouns that make sense to you. It can be difficult to juggle atypical neopronouns for you at the same time as trying to do multi pronouns for the character. Typing "him" instead of "his" on accident for example makes it even harder to read, and multi pronouns are already hard enough to read as it is (<- should not be smug about this, but is, because he don't have multiple pronouns because it's easy)

Context!!! This one is the most obvious but it really helps.

You can loosen up the further into the narrative you are because they'll be able to guess based on how the character is behaving and characterization.

Example:

Carin tapped his foot irately, becoming the human personification of anxiety. The clock said they were ten minutes late, and the time on his phone said twenty. If they didn't show up soon he was just going to-

The bell chimed and they stepped into the room, telescoping the umbrella with a SNAP! that could barely be heard over the chatter in the coffee shop. The noise didn't abate at all when they entered and the bell chimed again as the door fell shut.

"It's about damn time," he said. Worry creased his brow.

They looked like they were going to apologize and thought better of it. "I don't see what the rush is."

She rolled her eyes. "I told you, we have a deadline."

"So you've said. Like five times." They sounded more amused than stressed now that they were in the shop and out of the rain. The umbrella folded up into a little tube, one of those tiny ones you could get at target. They flagged down the barista.

He groaned. "Do we really have time for coffee?"

"Hi! I'll have a latte, and xie will have an cappuccino."

The barista looked at xir warily, but shrugged xir off. She looked a bit stressed herself since the place was packed with people trying to escape the downpour. Okay, a lot stressed. But the thought of that was making xim feel bad so xie tried not to think about it. [Alternatively: The barista looked at her warily, but shrugged her off. She looked a bit stressed herself since the place was packed with people trying to escape the downpour. Okay, a lot stressed. But thinking about the barista's situation was making her feel bad so she tried not to think about it.]

"Will that be for here or to go?"

"To go. Thanks."

The sound of change made her eyebrow twitch.

"You didn't have to-"

"You looked like you could use a coffee. Now. The deadline?" They asked, leaning their hip against the counter near the WAIT HERE FOR YOUR COFFEE :) sign.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

ok i brought this up in a discord server already but i'm gonna ask this here as well for maximum coverage

when writing characters who use multiple pronouns, what's the best way to avoid confusion?

no i'm not making this a poll as the answers are bound to be a lot more nuanced than a multiple choice question can do justice lmao

[youkaigakkou-tl]

Yohaji Character Survey 2024

With the release of the anime and the end of cour 1, I figured I'd do the character survey again! You can see last time's results here, which was in Oct 2022

I'll tally the results in about 2 weeks, before cour 2 starts (Jan 7), but the form will still stay open after that

Since last time, over 2 years ago, this blog's gone from around 100 followers to 600+, and I've made a twitter (which now has more followers than this blog. u guys r still my fave tho <3) so I wanna see if I can get a bigger sample size

Some funny numbers under the cut if you like numbers too

The 2022 poll had 22 responses at the time I tallied the results, but I never closed it and it now has 32 responses

Of which, the most recent responses are from.... THIS MONTH????? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE WHERE DID U COME FROM

Takahashi stan who answered this month i respect u so much. me too same tbh

I don't actually remember how many followers I had at that point, the only milestone I know is 300 because I made this post. I was going to make this same joke for twitter too when i hit 300 there but it jumped from like 300 to 600 in like 2 weeks and I missed my chance lol

But anyway I think it was around 100 because at the time I tallied the results I remember thinking "hey 1/5 of my followers responded! pretty nice ratio!"

Some kinda irrelevant stats: Because I set up google SEO for the wiki, I get to see search trends and stats for it and yohaji in general!

Impressions (purple) is "how many people see the wiki in their google search results", which roughly equals "how many people are searching yohaji-related keywords" because the wiki is almost always on the first page of results anyway

Clicks (blue) is "how many people clicked on the link to the wiki in google search", or rather "how many people clicked on the miraheze wiki over the fandom one, either because google put it above or ppl already knew its the active one"

(Don't actually know what's going on on the fandom wiki nowadays, I don't check on it regularly, and a few weeks ago fandom staff revoked my admin and removed all the links to the miraheze wiki when they haven't cared for most of the year, presumably because the anime is driving up viewcounts for the fandom wiki too)

So sort of unexpectedly, it's actually trending upwards week by week!

For the spike on Nov 26, I have to assume that's because of one of those tiktoks that blowed up

The most searched character (that brought them to the wiki, at least) after Haruaki is..... RANMARU?????

After that, it's Ebisu, Miki, Sano and Oota, in that order, all roughly tied in clicks. Massive spike for Ebisu last week and then this week of course

For a long while pre-anime, 2 of the top queries that showed the wiki were Seiryuu and Suzaku, probably because they snuck into searches for those names from other anime lmao

[aishangotome]

[Nica Schwartz] I Can't Return to a Time Before You Part 2

Nica: Nica Schwartz, from Germany.

Nica: Birthday is March 2nd. Family is my younger brother, Ring. My curse power is to charm anyone whose hand I hold.

Nica: Special skill is... tying cherry stems with my tongue.

On the terrace seat, Nica pointed at his slightly protruding tongue with his finger and lifted the corner of his mouth. Despite his flirtatious aura, he was charming, and I almost found myself captivated.

Nica: They say people who can tie cherry stems with their tongue are good kissers.

Nica: Want to try it out?

Kate: No!

Nica: Too bad.

(...Geez!)

We entered a nearby café and started chatting, following his suggestion to get to know each other, but--.

(He says things like this from time to time, and it makes my heart skip a beat.)

Nica: What were you doing before you became a Fairytale Keeper, little Robin?

Kate: I was a letter carrier. That's why I know the streets of London quite well.

Kate: I walked a lot to deliver mail quickly.

The memory of working, which was a normal part of my life just a week ago, felt like a distant memory, and I gently sipped my tea.

Then Nica made a worried expression and said--

Nica: It must have been tough for you with such a sudden change in your environment.

Kate: Huh...?

His fingers touched my hand, which was resting on the table.

Nica: You were just working hard, and then you had the bad luck to run into Crown, right?

Nica: It's not your fault... You just happened to see something you shouldn't have.

The ring on his beautiful finger touched my fingertips, and the coldness unique to metal was transmitted to my skin, but--

(No one has ever said that to me...)

My body grew warm, and my nose tingled.

Kate: ...It's true that it might have been bad luck that I was there at that moment, on that day.

Kate: But I also think, just a little, that it might have been meant to be.

Nica: You mean it was fate?

He played with my fingers, intertwining them and poking them, but strangely, I didn't feel uncomfortable.

Kate: Because I met Crown, I was able to learn about the malicious things happening in this country.

Kate: If I hadn't met them, I would have lived my life without knowing anything.

Nica: ...You're strong, little Robin.

The finger that was stroking my ring finger stopped at its base.

When I looked up, his cat-like almond eyes were piercing me.

Nica: But I don't want my lover to see the dirty side of the world.

Nica: Since we're lovers for the day, just look at beautiful things today, okay?

His gaze pierced me, and I couldn't take my eyes away.

Kate: ...Like what, for example?

Nica: Like this.

Emma: Eh, whoa!

Just as I thought his hand had stopped playing with my fingers, a bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared from behind his back.

Kate: Where were you hiding those...? No, more importantly, when did you buy them!?

Nica: Aha, did I surprise you?

(But we haven't been apart since we came into town!)

He handed me the beautiful bouquet, and the floral scent gently tickled my nostrils, but--.

(Is there another, even nicer scent besides the flowers?)

I realized what the sensual scent was the moment the wind blew.

Nica: Whoa, it's windy today... What's wrong, little Robin? Your face is red.

(This is Nica's scent...)

The sensual scent of ylang-ylang was coming from him, and--

Kate: It's nothing... The flowers, I'm happy, thank you.

Nica: Bitte. They suit you well.

*Bitte means "you're welcome" in German.

I felt myself being drawn to Nica and hid my face behind the bouquet.

Nica: Well, since we're on a date, I have to make you happy.

Kate: I'm already happy enough, and besides...

Nica: Are you starting to enjoy being with me?

Nica said smugly, straightening his jacket collar and lifting the corners of his mouth.

Nica: I'll do something even better.

-

Kate: That was wonderful!

Nica: I'm glad you enjoyed it.

After that, he took me to see a play.

(I never told him I liked watching plays.)

While I was once again reminded of how well-informed he is, being escorted by him still made me happy...

(Nica is truly a smart and wonderful person.)

Holding the bouquet, I walked beside him, completely captivated after being escorted by him all day.

Then--

Emaciated Noblewoman: Oh my, aren't you that man from before?

(Ah, not again...)

I felt a little unpleasant when a woman called out to him, even though we weren't even lovers.

But I recognized this woman.

(This is the woman who often came to the theater with her husband.)

I had seen them having a couple's quarrel in the second-floor box seats several times, but--

(I remembered them because the things I overheard were always about him messing with other women.)

Seeing her worryingly emaciated figure, Nica whispered in my ear.

Nica: She confided in me about her troubles with her husband.

As I was feeling a bit sad about the unexpected truth that had come to light, the woman approached us.

Emaciated Noblewoman: Talking to you made me realize I can't stay with that man.

Emaciated Noblewoman: But when I asked for a divorce, he became violent... I don't know what to do anymore.

(That's terrible...)

I saw bruises on the woman's arm as she covered her face, and I couldn't help but frown in anger and disgust.

However, Nica gently took the woman's hand and said,

Nica: I can only listen to you, and I can't solve your problems, but...

He kissed the back of her hand as if to comfort her.

Nica: There are many people who find your free spirit attractive.

Nica: It's okay, be brave.

(Nica...)

As I watched them,

Emaciated Noblewoman: Yes... you're right.

The woman nodded repeatedly as if convincing herself, and Nica, releasing her hand, put his arm around my waist.

Nica: Well then, take care.

As he urged me to leave, I saw--

The woman glaring at me with an intensely angry expression.

(Did I do something?)

Nica: Little Robin.

He called me, and I looked away from the woman, letting him escort me as we started walking, but--.

Kate: ...Nica?

I looked up to see the corners of his mouth lifted.

Just as I was about to ask him why he was smiling---

???: Aaaaaaaaaah!!!

A scream from behind brought our sweet and happy time as lovers to an end.

.

.

.

Part 1 | Bitter Ending | Premium Ending

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