#a more oblique way of exploring the reactions of those around him

[hobbitsetal]

The Woes of Prince Osric

"Of course," said the Chancellor of the Exchequer fretfully, "one ought not to offend fairy godmothers."

Prince Osric gave his uncle a scathing look. "I had not meant to offend Falina's fairy godmother, uncle. In fact, our conversation was perfectly civil. To avoid offense, I would have had to have been a different man altogether!"

The chancellor wisely did not comment on that remark. Prince Osric was apt to be touchy these days, albeit silently most of the time. "Well, the matter is done. The queen is planning another ball next week, so you ought to find your True Love in short order."

The queen, who paid close attention to nuptials of various kingdoms, had decided briskly to aid her son in regaining his voice. That he would also end up married, as he was supposed to have been already, was a benefit she did not bother to point out. And since everyone knew a grand ball was the most romantic place for royalty (and since she had met her own husband at a ball), they had been held monthly since Prince Osric had returned home with his curious case of mostly muteness.

The ungrateful prince groaned and plopped into a chair, one hand pressed to his brow. "Not another one! Why can't she see how useless they are?"

"Oh, but they aren't!" the chancellor protested, scandalized. "Why, my own dear wife and I--"

"Can talk to each other," the prince said bitterly. "You've no idea, uncle, how dreadfully dull it is to dance without ever saying a word. I'm not even a novelty anymore. Hardly a six-month, and no one wants to dance with me, for they must do all the talking."

"But you have the Conversation Tablets."

Osric shook out his hands with a grimace. "Aye, and cramped hands from them. Besides, I can hardly stop midway through a minuet to write out a witty response."

"You have garden strolls to write in," the chancellor said patiently.

Another scathing look from the prince. "Where I can hardly see to write? Ugh. And the conversations stumble so! She says something, then she sits and looks at the flowers for five minutes while I write, then she says something else, then she looks at the statues! No one has any interest in that! And I can only talk in pairs, for if there's a group, they forget to pay attention when I'm writing and they've begun talking of something else by the time I have written out what I'd wish to say."

"They forget?" the chancellor asked, scandalized.

"Apparently," said Osric, "even a prince may be forgotten if he is silent."

The godmother had referred to her punishment as a gift. Osric had not yet found the gilt wrapping paper that would make it so.

"I feel," said he, "like a stack of furniture. Or-or a servant! I am dull and easy to ignore!"

The chancellor looked worried. "I shall budget a new wardrobe for you," he said, rising from his seat. "It shall be very fine and very colorful, so that you shall stand out in any crowd."

Ting ting ting began the little clock on the mantel.

"That will do nothing!" cried Osric. "I shall be like a bird of paradise and just as dumb! No, more, for a bird at least may--"

Ting ting ting, and the little clock was done.

And so was Osric, for on the tenth chime, his mouth closed with a snap and he could say no more.

"A new wardrobe," the chancellor said, nodding. "You are a prince, after all. There are many young ladies who will love you for that alone. I shall consult with your mother, and my dear royal sister and I will design a wardrobe that will make you impossible to forget." And he hurried out, frowning and muttering dear dear to himself.

Prince Osric sat alone in gloomy silence. A wardrobe, he knew, would not change anything about him. For one hour of a ball, he could be as eloquent as he had always been. Yet even that magic hour had been wasted of late, for he found himself embarrassed to go from sudden silence to compliments or poetry. No, true love was not to be found at a ball, not for him. He sat and he pondered.

At last, he wrote a note on his Conversation Tablet and left it for the servants to bring to his parents in the morning. He packed a bag of plain clothes and his second best pair of boots. And then Prince Osric stole out into the night to seek his True Love where he might find her, or at least adventures that did not rely upon conversation.

[meepmoopfanfics]

you don’t get a win unless you’re playing the game: Daveed Diggs x Reader: Chapter 5

Chapter 5-Game On 

Daveed Diggs x reader (there’s def smut in this... close your eyes if you’re under 18)

The whole world went silent and time refrained to exist. You heard strong quick footsteps approaching the door in front of you. 

All that was separating you was an inch of barrier. Your heart was beating into your throat. You felt the skin of your face become hot. Your breath became slower as you imagined how hot his breath would feel behind your ear on the soft spot of your neck that drove you wild when it was touched. 

You heard the faint thumping of a bass of a speaker. Then click, click, click. You watched the knob slowly turn and the door opened smoothly. 

There he stood, towering over you, shirtless. His white Calvin Klein briefs teased you, peeking just over the waistband of his Oaklandish grey sweatpants. They sat perfectly under his tights obliques. He wore two gold chains around his neck, laying right above his broad pecs. Those biceps... those forearms... you could only imagine how you wanted him to hold you down and take every bit of you exactly how he wanted. 

He looked you up and down. Reading you, studying you. You noticed his dark pupils somehow dilate. His hair was slightly frizzier than normal, making him even sexier. The scruff of his beard made you squirm. You waited for him to speak. 

“Now what took you so long?” He growled in a deep, gravely tone just above a whisper. You took a few steps in, about a foot away from him, face to face, and he shut the door behind you pinning his hand up against the door, leaving no room for you to move in further. You dropped your bag right beside you without even looking where it landed. 

He handed you an old fashioned he made for you with his other hand and placed one single slow, sensual kiss teasingly on your neck. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, just an inch or so from your left ear, “I need you to know... I don’t like waiting.”

All you could do was part your lips and sigh.

He leaned slightly away from your ear to grab just under your chin to make sure you had direct eye contact. He was peering straight into you. Both of your lips were no more than an inch apart. The tension was making you shake.

“Do you know what happens when you make me wait?”

You couldn’t move. Your senses were shutting down. No thoughts browsed through your once busy brain fumbling through Hamilton choreography. No thoughts of the soreness of your body from rehearsals even remained. This man had complete control over you and he knew it. It was consensual and hot as fuck. 

All you could do was timidly shake your head no very slowly. 

“It’s my turn to make you wait for it.”

Shit. 

He raised his voice. “Until you’re begging. Do you understand?”

He leaned in as if he was going to crash into your lips, but dived straight past them to whisper into your ear. 

“Cheers.” 

He took his moscow mule glass and clinked it right into yours as he smirked, winked, and nodded his head for you to follow. He walked away, revealing his toned back muscles and headed towards the couch 

Your nearly felt like you were going to faint as your knees became weak. You followed him like a puppy. Fuck. So much for you taking control...

He turned up his music louder. The sexy bass of Miguel’s song “Funeral” blasted through his Sonos speakers setting the mood just right. It drove you wild. 

“It’s a little toasty in here, don’t you think, Y/N? Maybe you should take that hoodie off...” Daveed suggested as you took a sip of the delicious old fashioned he crafted for you. 

“You a little eager to see the lavender I see?” You questioned. 

That’s it. You’d had enough. 

You set your drink down, slipped off your shoes, and went to straddle him. Right before you could grind against what you craved, he took his two palms and pushed up against your inner thighs to prevent you from sitting down and pushed you to sit directly to the left of him.

“You a little eager to get you way with me?”

“Ugh...” was all you could muster

“Take your hoodie off. Now.”

You did your best to sexily take it off, biting your lip while throwing it to the side. You felt confident and sexy as you revealed your Aerie lavender bra with lace detailing. Daveed couldn’t help but stare directly at your perfectly perky breasts.

“Now stand in front of me. Turn around, and take off those damn leggings.”

“Oh so you can see this?” You pulled the strings holding together your purple thong out just enough to tease him.

“That’s hella hot...” he responded. 

You slowly bent over directly in front of him, almost as if you were going to give him a strip tease. You slowly bent forward, showcasing your flexibility by leaning forward  on releve to really enhance your calves and hamstrings as you slowly peeled your leggings off. Your ass was on display with your legs crossed. A perfect vision of a peach directly starting back at Daveed. You stepped out of your pants as you looked away for the quickest second. 

Before you knew it, Daveed’s hands gripped forcefully at your waist to pull you directly into his lap, right onto his thick erect cock. A moan instantly left your lips as he reached around to cup your right breast with his right hand and used his left to keep you in place. All you wanted to do was grind against his erection to pleasure yourself, but he made sure this wasn’t an option.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? Think you can take it?” He lightly thrusted his hips into your backside, creating friction right on your opening.

You were beginning to breathe faster. 

“I can take it...I need it...”

“What can you take?” He sarcastically asked.

“I need your cock inside me...”

“Where do you want it, baby?”

He reached around with his left palm to lightly grab your throat as he continued to fondle your right breast. He didn’t put any pressure on your neck to make sure this was within boundaries. 

Dominating and respectful? Hell yeah. You were all in.

“In my... oh fuck.” You hissed as put pressure onto your throat while simultaneously thrusting harder into you. Your neck instantly breaking and leaning back onto him.

“You said you couldn’t wait to get on your knees for me...isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yes... yes... Please let me take you in my mouth.”

“Get on your knees.”

You obliged. But as soon as you turned around you had to crash into his lips just once. He moaned into your mouth as he kissed you powerfully. He grabbed the side of your face tenderly and then bit your bottom lip, making you moan as you dropped to your knees. 

“Good girl.”

He slowly pushed his Oaklandish sweatpants down and kicked them out of your way. 

Holy... fuck...

He placed his hands behind his head, looking at you cockily as he watched you stare in awe at his giant bulge under the Calvin Klein briefs

“Like what you see?”

You slid your hands slowly up his thighs. “I’m one fucking lucky lady”

You kissed slowly up his right thigh then passed right over him to suck on his obliques and around his groin.

“Shit...” he hissed as he adjusted in his seat. The thought of driving him to the edge again brought you endless excitement. You noticed he began to perspire slightly, signaling he was getting heated. Daveed’s hands released from behind his head to stroke the side of your face and gently tried to guide your head to where he wanted you to be.

You nudged his hands away. Both of your hands interlaced as you slowly, over top of his briefs, brushed your lips down his shaft. He released a guttural, primal, moan and sent instant pleasure to your core. You released your hands from his and grabbed the waistline of his briefs. You pulled them down to strip him completely naked.

This was something you could’ve only dreamt about. You couldn’t make this shit up. This was quite simply the largest erection you’ve ever encountered. You were slightly timid to begin to finish what you started, but you were up for this challenge. 

He let out the sweetest giggle when he saw your reaction. His million dollar smile filled you with butterflies. He reached behind you before you could touch him to unclasp your bra, baring your chest. 

“God damn, Y/N...” He began touching himself just at the sight of you, stroking slowly while biting his lip.

Quickly, you pushed his hands away to show him his hands were no match for your mouth. You parted your lips to suck just gently, right on his head while making piercing eye contact with him. He pushed your hair behind you ears on one side and gently place his other hand on the back of your head, aiming to push you down further. You popped your lips off of him making a sucking sound.

“Is this what you imagined when you thought of the bullet sucking you dry?” You were in the dirtiest mindset imaginable. You were ready to do anything for this man.

“Mmmm...” was all he could say as he remained watching you with awe.

You began blowing him again, this time deeper, slowly bobbing your head up and down while lightly playing with his balls. You couldn’t quite fit his entire length in your mouth yet, but were close. You released his balls and used your other hand to cover the rest of his shaft to the base of his cock. You twisted as you sucked, giving light pressure to send him into heaven. 

“You’re amazing at that...” was all he could say as he released his head back onto the couch closing his eyes in pure bliss.

You began to speed up, noticing him squirm even more, tensing his quads, trying to reach his peak. You stopped completely causing him to shoot up in his seat.

He stood up and picked you up to standing. He put one hand around the back of your neck and one on the small of your back to forcefully pull you into him. He immediately explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly moving to suck onto your neck... right onto the sweet spot behind your ear. 

“Fuck.” you whispered. You had touched yourself to the thought of just that  many times before this man even know you existed.

He stopped and gripped tighter on the back of your neck as he leaned into your ear, “Turn around.” he ordered. Both of you were a panting mess and the whole control thing began to blur. Both of you were losing control to the other. 

You gladly obliged. He pushed your head down so your ass was up. He lightly spanked you playfully as a light moan left your lips. You didn’t realize you’d be turned on by someone spanking you, but you were into it. 

You turned around, giving him a sexy look. “Harder.”

He nodded and then spanked you again, leaving a light red mark on your right cheek.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, understand?” 

He ripped off your lavender thong. You stepped out of it, revealing how wet you were to him. He couldn’t resist the sight and immediately dropped to his knees behind you. Without warning or hesitation, he grabbed your ass and pulled you into him, licking everything that was dripping down, from your clit to your opening.

Your eyes rolled back into your head and your knees buckled. His hands kept you steady although you were sinking into pure bliss.

“You taste so good...” he said taking a breath before going back to work. You have never been eaten out from this angle before and it was sending shivers down your entire body. You began slightly shaking.

“Oh my god... oh my god... oh my god...” was all you could muster as he explored you with his mouth. He switched between gently sucking on your clit to licking your slit. You were almost to pure ecstasy and your body was not able to hold back. The way his tongue flicked against you was otherworldly. Every time you would moan or attempt to say his name he would moan back sexily. You could feel his humming against you and it drove you wild.

“You’re going to wait to cum until I’m inside you, understand?” He muffled. But you couldn’t understand a single word coming from his mouth.

“Daveed please... Daveed please”

“Please what?”

“Daveed I’m com-” before you could even finish the sentence, your orgasm hit you unlike any one had ever in your entire life. Your legs shook until you fell into the table you were bent over. You swore you just saw stars. Waves and waves of pleasure kept hitting you.

You were coming back to consciousness as Daveed flipped you over on your back on the patterned rug on his floor. He was hovering just over you...

“What did I say?”

You started dazzlingly into his eyes, trying to get your own eyes to focus.

A light mixture between a moan and a sigh came out of your throat, but no answer.

“You're in for it now, Y/N.”

Before you knew it, you were in Daveed’s strong, toned arms. You felt so safe, so cared for, even in the midst of a fuck. You practically melted in his grip. He carried you down the hallway back into his bedroom. He flipped a switch and down came his blackout curtains, only leaving a small amount of sunlight escape from the bottoms of the windows.  You were almost certain he would throw you on the bed, but instead he laid you down, gentler than ever against his cloud like down comforter. You sunk into it with pleasure. 

He crawled directly over top of you. The smidge of sunlight made his chains sparkle as they dangled over you.

“You just had to fire your weapon out there didn’t you, “Y/N?”

Bullet joke. Good one. Points for creativity.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You spread your legs, giving him the green light to enter you. 

He took his cock in his hand, stroked it a few times, and placed it right at your opening. Everything in you wanted to push your hips to fit his full length deep inside you. He dragged it up and down your slit. Driving you crazy.

“Jesus Christ, Diggs, just fuck me already.” You were desperate.

He grabbed his headboard with one arm and behind your backside with the next.

“Are you on birth control?”

You shook your head yes. You were thankful he asked, you weren’t even thinking about a condom, which was completely irrational and... you broke from your racing thoughts to hear him state...

“Well since you asked for it...”

In one, excruciating second, he growled, thrusted forcefully and deep, directly into you, filling you to the brim and then some. Not even a moan, but a scream, escaped your lips.

“God damn you’re so tight...you feel..... amazing...” He pulled out slowly, then forcefully thrusted, multiple times. Slowly exiting and powerfully entering as your walls already started to squeeze around him.

You spread your legs further, showcasing your flexibility. You then snuck both of your legs onto his toned shoulders, making your entrance even tighter for Daveed, to give him maximum pleasure. It was the least you could do since you already came.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m not gonna be able to last long if you stay like that.”

“I don't mind” you responded. The innocence in your eyes drove Daveed wild.

He began speeding up his pace. Every thrust brought you more and more pleasure. They always say sex isn’t this magical in movies and shit, but this was real.

“Ride me.” He said as he flipped you from your back to on top of him, seamlessly. 

You slid down even deeper onto his hard cock and could feel it pulsating inside of you.

“God you’re so fucking hot.” You blurted.

He reached out and fondled your breasts as you began to ride him, grinding onto him. Soon enough he pulled you into a sensual, romantic kiss, running his fingers through your hair. The thrusting stopped. God this was perfect. 

You hovered over him and pulled away, just taking a second to be still with him, looking into his eyes. You felt magic. A spark.

The thrusting from his end began, putting him completely in control.

He then grabbed the base of your hair with his right palm, put it into a fist and lightly pulled while holding you down with his left forearm, embracing you.

“Look at me, Y/N... You’re so goddamn fine. You’re so goddamn gorgeous riding me like that.”

You moaned, rolling your eyes until they closed. Your orgasm slowly building,

“Look at me.” Your eyes shot back open at his mercy.

“You're so fucking sexy” you responded keeping eye contact. 

He thrusted faster and harder, faster and harder, getting sloppier as the pleasure built between the two of you.

“I’m close Daveed... I’m so close” you moaned. He took his hand from out of your hair and put his hand under your chin. His thumb stroked your lips. You lightly sucked on his thumb throwing him over the edge.

“You’re gonna make me fucking cum...” he yelled.

As he felt your walls tighten intensely around his cock, he grunted and began spilling into you. 

“Ah fuck it feels so good...” he grunted as he finished with you on top of him.

You crashed into him, laying like a lump on top of his chest. You felt both of your chests rise and fall in unison, laying there naked, feeling primal and satisfied. You felt so close with him. A connection you never thought was imaginable.

About a minute passed as you caught your breath and planted small, romantic kisses into one another with your eyes closed.

“Wow.” was all you could mutter.

“Shit that was somethin else.” He said as he began playing with his hair. “Okay let’s see... how am I gonna get up?” 

You both giggled as he reached for a tissue on his nightstand. He flipped you over gently as he pulled out. Some of his cum started spilling out of you and he handed you his tissue and reached for a new one.

“You stay there. I’ll be right back. Don't worry about the sheets.” You got a nice view of his tight booty from the dim light as he exited quickly to his bathroom.

You laid there, completely in bliss. You were definitely going to be sore on Monday. The first thing that popped into your mind was... God I hope this wasn’t a one time thing. That was too fucking perfect. Daveed was too fucking perfect. God Daveed was otherworldly...

Oh no.

Fuck.

The thing that you couldn’t believe you’d ever feel again after the heartbreak you experienced after your last relationship. The thing you would have to bury so far down in order to function.

Fuck.

You’ve caught feelings.

@alexander-hamilhoe

@lonelydance

@riiyy

@ohsoverykeri-blog

@braidedchallah

@lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa

@britbrat6501

@roman0ffxnat

[dippedanddripped]

Fear of God's Jerry Lorenzo (left) and Zegna Creative Director Alessandro Sartori LONDON, United Kingdom — Jerry Lorenzo’s memories of Zegna dial back decades, to his father becoming manager of the Chicago White Sox baseball team and celebrating his appointment with a visit to Michigan Avenue, the city’s Magnificent Mile, home to major luxury brands. First stop, the Italian suiting giant Ermenegildo Zegna.

“The name represented elegance, sophistication,” Lorenzo remembers, “so many aspirational things that I’ve held on to in my subconscious ever since.”

He cycled through a series of entrepreneurial incarnations before settling into fashion with Fear of God, the upmarket streetwear brand that has become a cult favourite (he prefers to think of it as “American luxury”), but those memories of his dad shopping for suits have come back into vivid play with his latest project: a collaboration with Zegna and its Artistic Director Alessandro Sartori on a new collection for men, comprised of fashion and accessories at luxury price points, set to launch during Paris fashion week and hit retail in September.

“A good opportunity to explore new territory with a new customer,” said Chief Executive Gildo Zegna, “to combine the quality of the past with a modern attitude.”

The hybrid has flourished as a menswear staple since Kim Jones fused the sporty and the sartorial in the early years of the 21st century. Even so, the principles of this latest manifestation acknowledge its fundamental unlikeliness. Fear of God is rooted in Californian subcultures: a freeform stew of sport, skate, punk, hip-hop, hints of Goth. Meanwhile, Zegna has been the apogee of tailored Italian elegance for over a century. Melrose Avenue versus Via Monte Napoleone. And Lorenzo and Sartori couldn’t look more physically different.

“Aesthetically, our worlds are so far apart,” Lorenzo agrees, “but we’re inextricably tied.” Why am I irresistibly reminded of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in “Twins”? He hooted with laughter. “I love that movie. If you know anything about me, all I do is watch '80s and '90s movies. So many of my references come from that time period. It’s exactly that: when your destiny is tied to someone, you have to be prepared for the initial relationship to be a tough one.”

Aesthetically, our worlds are so far apart, but we’re inextricably tied.

Fact is, though, it wasn’t tough. Lorenzo and Sartori were primed for each other when they first met for coffee a year ago. “I already liked his styling, the way he dropped collections when he felt like it, the approach of his stores,” said Sartori. And Lorenzo soon found out they shared not only core values but also, he said, a common mission for menswear. “We’d debate back and forth about a shoulder width or what have you, but we never ever wavered because we believed what the collection needed to say in the end."

What that means exactly will be revealed on March 2, but the designers drop some oblique hints.

“I strongly believe there’s a gap between what’s happening culturally in streetwear and tailoring,” said Lorenzo. “It’s extreme to go from hoodie and sweats to a perfectly tailored suit tomorrow. There’s a place in between that speaks to both languages: easiness, relaxation, tailoring without compromise.”

Sartori described a “very physical” work process, “cutting and re-building silhouettes on real men, with a different approach to sizing, because Jerry likes to work on large sizes. So, the 48 is more than a 48, reflecting a freer body rather than a specific size of shoulder or chest.”

“There’s oversize and there’s a way to refine that,” said Lorenzo. “Alessandro has been extremely helpful, taking the idea and perfecting it.”

Sartori insists that working on the silhouettes was the most interesting part for him. “That was where we saw how different we were and how our approach was evolving into a third approach. One plus one equals three. I noticed a bit more sexiness and freedom.” Jerry laughed when he heard this. “Three years ago, I was talking to some consultants about what’s next for Fear of God. I said, ‘I wanna get into tailoring. I don’t know what it is, but I have this conviction that I want to make a sexy Zegna.’”

So, that was three years ago, and Lorenzo was already noticing the kind of shifts that other streetwear gurus have since picked up on, most notably Virgil Abloh’s recent declaration that streetwear is “gonna die,” drowned in a sea of T-shirts, hoodies and sneakers.

Jerry has his own take on that. “Streetwear designers have been given recognition as the creative directors and artisans they are. The title is changing but not necessarily the product.” Still, he calls himself his own best R&D department, and his instincts are telling him that a more mature look is driving the market.

Meanwhile, the customer Sartori has been courting in his collections for Zegna seems to be skewing younger, if you take the menswear spectacles he stages in Milan as his manifestos.

“There, I’m trying to evolve a certain grammar, write a new chapter for the book,” he explained. “What I’m doing with Jerry is a parallel language. I’m trying to write a new page for a generation I don’t work with today, who’ve never approached this message before. But there will also be people who haven’t found certain products from Jerry and now they’ll find suits, certain blazers, crafted leathers, beautiful coats, accessories… I think there are new product categories for both of our customers."

I’m trying to write a new page for a generation I don’t work with today, who’ve never approached this message before.

Music to a CEO’s ears. “The first thing that comes to my mind is that it will help us in the States where Jerry is super-well-known,” said Gildo Zegna. “We’ve not reached our potential with the new Zegna of Alessandro and this is a way that could help us reach out quicker. A new customer for Alessandro, a new customer for Jerry… that gives us new chances around the world.”

He acknowledges that the profound differences between the two make this a bold move, but he also notes their compatibility: the heritage, the purity, the authenticity.

Part of Lorenzo’s own purist point of view is that he bridles at the merest suggestion of the commercial exposure this collab could garner for him.

“It’s not an issue or desire for me. I’ve never relied on or hoped for that or looked to celebrity or anything other than my point of view to be the platform from which we reach the world. When you start thinking of the commercial or PR side, you begin to get lost and forget why you’re doing it.”

For him, Zegna is all about an opportunity to elevate what he already does to the very highest level.

Jerry is a spiritual guy. “You think he’s a party person, but when you call Jerry, he’s walking in the mountains with his daughter,” said Sartori.

“The foundation of what I do is faith,” explained Lorenzo. “I listen to a lot of sermons. Bishop TD Jakes says the greatest gift you can give someone is exposure. I think I’ve been exposed to a new way of doing what I do. And hopefully I’ve done all I can to expose Zegna to a new way of thinking.”

There was one early reaction to the collection that I was particularly keen to understand. Jerry Manuel introduced his son to Zegna. How does he feel about Jerry Junior’s latest move?

“I think I’ve got some solutions to have him look more like a 60-year-old man,” said Lorenzo. “I really think this collection not only shows a young man how to mature, but also gives an older market the freedom to approach their wardrobe in a different way. But, to be honest, my mom is more excited than my dad. All he wears is Fear of God. My mom said, ‘Finally my husband is not going to look like a kid!’”

[nadziejastar]

Poppet…? Apparently, that meant Xion. But what resemblance was he referring to? Xion was just as much a puppet as ever.

Saïx had no time for all these deliberately oblique remarks from Xigbar. “Nonsense. I see no problem whatsoever.”

Xigbar only laughed louder. “Pa-ha-ha! No, apparently you don’t!”

“Something you find amusing?”

“Oh, the things you hear from a guy with no heart,” Xigbar said through his hilarity.

Yes, I couldn’t agree more. I recently saw a forum topic about KH3 that said Saïx was just a one-dimensional asshole for no reason in Days and it made me kinda sad. I think he had a LOT of depth to his character---it just wasn’t actually explored (like so many other things). I already did posts on Axel and Zexion. I’ve been meaning to write a post about what losing his heart at a young age did to Saïx. He and Xigbar had a very interesting relationship which I was really excited to learn more about. But it looks like we probably won’t get that opportunity. It’s clear that Xigbar saw Saïx as nothing more than a helpless kid.

Day 117: Special Nobodies

Today it was me and Xigbar. Axel and Xion went out on their own mission. Xigbar told me that Xion and me are "exceptional"—you know, like, special Nobodies. Because we can use the Keyblade? Work dragged on late, so I didn't make it up to the clock tower. I wonder if Xion and Axel made it. Those pictures started flashing through my head again on the mission. The boy in red... What's it all about? Maybe when Xigbar called me "special" he meant "crazy"...Seriously, though, is Xion experiencing the same thing? It feels weird to ask.

Day 117 ~Secrets~ is about special Nobodies, the only Nobodies who can join the organization and remember who they were as humans. Xigbar and Roxas went to gather intel on Hercules. When Saïx told Axel he had to go back to Castle Oblivion, he was thinking that Nobodies have goals and are able to think. It seemed to be hinting that Saïx’s shared goal isn’t really with Axel, but with Xemnas---whether Saïx realized it or not.

Day 117: Him and Roxas

Author: Xigbar

Roxas is maturing at an impressive rate. His face, the way he handles the Keyblade, it's all exactly the same. The worlds seem so divided and alone, but there's always that steady thread there to connect them. And we Nobodies can never escape the things we did as humans. So it goes.

And Xigbar was remembering Ventus on this day. That’s one of his dark secrets.

Day 118: Vacation

Today was my first vacation ever. I didn’t know what to do with it. Axel said to do what I like, but all I like is having ice cream with my friends—so that’s what I ended up doing. Axel leaves tomorrow for some kind of mission. Which reminds me—I still haven’t given him the WINNER stick yet.

Before Axel left for Castle Oblivion, it was a day off. Specifically meaning NO WORK. It was called “Lazy Day”.

Day 118: You Changed, Not Me

Author: Axel

Talking to Roxas and Xion always brings back memories of my human life, back when I was a kid. It's a weird sensation.I ought to be able to share all this with Saïx, but I just don't feel like it anymore. It's strange, but I'm content with just missing what's gone. I'm not the one who changed. You did.

This is the day Axel mentioned his dark secrets. And he also mentioned Saïx had changed. If anything, I think Isa was the one who enjoyed lazing about doing nothing the most. He just liked relaxing and eating ice cream. He was probably the polar opposite of the harsh drill instructor that his Nobody is.

“What a pain,” Axel muttered, and he looked up at the ceiling.

I’ve been holed up here with nothing but dusks for company for a few days, and now I’m talking to myself. This castle, devoid of people, is under the control of subordinate Nobodies. Subordinate Nobodies follow orders loyally, but they can’t do any more than that. The biggest difference between them and Organisation member Nobodies is that we can think for ourselves… Well, I wonder what ‘thought’ is, anyway. What’s the connection between ‘thought’ and the heart?

“Argh this is such a pain…”

Axel scratched his head, and continued searching the castle.

Special Nobodies are also the only ones capable of independent thought. Axel was thinking about this while he was at Castle Oblivion. “Thought” has a connection to the heart. 

Xemnas: Once born, the heart can also be nurtured. Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self. But understand, one can banish the heart from the body, but the body will try to replace it the first chance it gets, for as many times as it takes.

The idea was probably that controlling the mind is the key to controlling the heart. If you can get the mind to renounce its sense of self, then there will be no way for the person to resist their heart being taken over.

Day 119: Something to Protect

Axel has been gone forever. It's been just me and Xion at the clock tower. While me and Xaldin explored Beast's Castle, we found something he wants to protect... Xaldin says that's a weakness, but I'm not so sure. What does it mean to care about something that much? I don't, so it's hard to wrap my head around the whole idea.

The day Xigbar teased Saïx while praising Xion was Day 119 ~Work to Do~. This is the day Axel left for Castle Oblivion. Xigbar and Roxas were gathering intel on Hercules on Day 117. Herc was also special and a potential candidate for the Organization.

Day 119: Hearts and Emotion

Author: Xaldin

Watching that foolish beast flail about only deepens my disdain for humans and their incessant need to be pinned down by feelings.We became Nobodies precisely to avoid the shackles of emotion. It was only later that we realized the scale of that loss: that some things simply cannot be done without a heart. Nonetheless, I see nary a pleasant thing about it.

Xaldin and Roxas had a mission to gather intel on the Beast. They found out his weakness which would make his heart a captive. Then Xaldin said their work was done.

He didn’t really understand the ‘reward’ part, except that it was ice cream. Like Winner, though, it meant something special. So when Axel came back, Roxas would use the freebie as a ‘reward’. Xion, eating ice cream beside him, swung her feet.

“You two are really close, aren’t you,” she said.

The first time Roxas treated Xion to ice cream, she said he and Axel were really close. Xion was swinging her feet.

“Oh, hey, I just remembered…” Axel idly kicked his dangling feet against the ledge. “Did you guys know you should be checking your ice cream sticks?”

“Well… it is winning after all, so it has to be something good, right?”

“Something good…?” Roxas asked.

“Hee hee hee…,” Xion laughed. Roxas and Axel looked at her. “The two of you are close, aren’t you?” she said, and then she looked out at the setting sun. “Such a pretty sunset…”

She also said it on Day 352 ~Sunset~, when the WINNER stick was brought up again, and Roxas and Xion almost killed each other. Axel was dangling his feet like a kid.

“Axel, Axel… you two are quite the pals, aren’t you? Wonder what you two whisper about,” Xigbar shot, jiggling his crossed leg.

“Now you’ve mentioned it, I wonder the same about you”, Saïx retorted, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“We have but one objective,” said Xemnas. “Be sure to keep that in mind.”

And on Day 119, Xigbar said something similar about Axel and Saïx. And his leg was jiggling, too. Then Xemnas told them they have one objective and to keep it in mind. They are all Norts, after all.

Xemnas turned to Saïx. “Tell me your progress.”

“Our plans are proceeding as well as might be expected,” said Saïx. “Axel left for Castle Oblivion this morning.”

“Our little Poppet sure is a wonder,” Xigbar remarked, and a vicious smirk came to his face. “It’s a shame we don’t have Vexen around to follow her.”

“The Organization still has his technical expertise, as he notated and saved everything,” Saïx replied, utterly unfazed. “We’re not facing any difficulties in that regard.”

“And? When those difficulties do arise?” Xaldin, his arms folded from the start, regarded Saïx with disdain. 

During this meeting, Xaldin and Xigbar were upset because they blamed Saïx for Vexen’s demise.

“Right, I forgot, the kid did it,” Xigbar echoed with a heavy dose of accusatory sarcasm.

Saïx ignored this and continued. “Axel will be searching Castle Oblivion for any clues as well.”

“Oh, so Axel’s on the case.” Xigbar crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on them.

Saïx let out a deep sigh, the first semblance of a reaction he’d given this entire meeting. “We have not confirmed what happened to any spare cloaks in the possession of the members who were stationed at Castle Oblivion. Axel will also be looking into that.”

Saïx refused to show any semblance of reaction in front of them. After this meeting he gave the order for Xion to capture Riku, and he started to become extremely harsh on her. Way more than usual.

“Lately it’s been rare that you would go out of your way to come to me, that’s what I mean.”

“I have something to ask you, for a change.”

“Hilarious,” said Saïx. He’s being sarcastic… Joking, in other words.

Saïx had made up his mind not to say such things in front of the other Organization members. It was something he could only be towards Axel, something special that could only have been born from the relationship Saïx and Axel had had as humans.

I found it interesting how his interaction later with Axel was similar to the meeting on Day 119. Unlike with the others, Saïx shows Axel the "joking” side of his personality. He can act in a way around him that he can’t with anyone else and it’s special.

“Is it about the failure?”

Axel shrugged. “Mind reader, are we?”

“It’s because you’re simple, see… That hasn’t changed.”

“Excuse me? Were you always such a jerk?” Axel retorted, taking a seat on a shelf across from Saïx.

“Don’t sit on that.”

“Then put another chair in here.” He let his legs swing, the way he would sit at the usual spot.

“Somehow, I doubt that would stop you,” said Saïx. “Anyway, I’m not going to talk to you about it.”

Axel is a “mind reader”, but in a benign way compared to Xemnas. And Axel was swinging his legs restlessly like a kid when he was with Saïx.

“Hey. She has a name, you know.”

“I told you to stay out of this.” Saïx swiveled his chair, turning his back on Axel to end the conversation.

Axel stared at the stubborn set of his shoulders. Both of them had changed.

“Wonder which one of us is more different now,” Axel said under his breath. Just for an instant, he saw a twitch in Saïx’s shoulders. But he wasn’t about to hold his breath for more. Axel showed himself out.

Axel would always try to appeal to Saïx by bringing up their past. Axel was trying to get Saïx to go easier on Xion and I thought it was interesting that he said she had a name.

Secret Report 1: Recollections

I could not even recall my name. I was simply called "X" there. My only solace was the time I spent talking with the two boys who would visit from time to time. One day, a man came to take me from the prison. I could not see him for the darkness, save that he wore an eyepatch.

I think Isa was Subject X and treated like a lab rat. And Subject X was definitely not called by their name. Subject X was treated like an “it” and an object. Specifically, a vessel. Nomura called Seekers of Darkness “raw material” for the X-Blade. It wouldn’t surprise me if Isa was literally called an “it”. I think Axel was probably aware of how Isa was treated to some degree and it really, really upset him. It’s why he didn’t care one bit about killing Vexen. Saïx also treats people as tools that are only worthy to live if they serve any use. 

If you cannot wield the Keyblade to its purpose, you have no place in the Organization. Keep that in mind and make sure to eliminate Heartless with the Keyblade.”

“…I see. I’ll be more careful,” she replied.

It’s kind of creepy how Saïx would tell people to “keep it in mind”. Especially because Xemnas would always say that to him.

“You’d better. It’s part of your work,” said Saïx. “You know you need proper rest to carry out missions.”

“Sorry… I’ll find the impostor today.” Since two days ago, she’d been covering double ground, searching two worlds in one day. But she still hadn’t found any clues. Meanwhile, Saïx had no sympathy for her.

“You are to discover the identity of the outsider,” he told her. “Those are direct orders from Lord Xemnas. Failure is the same as insubordination. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Wha…?” Xion had no idea that Xemnas had chosen her for this mission. To the best of her knowledge, Saïx was the one in charge of assigning tasks.

“I assume I’ve made myself clear. Keep looking.” With that, Saïx turned his back on her and left. Xion stood alone in the vast lobby.

After that meeting he even brought up Xemnas to scare Xion.

Roxas stepped into a world he’d never been to before—Halloween Town, a strange shadowy world, with a fat, round moon hanging in the dark sky. Lamps burned faintly here and there, too, but they didn’t give nearly enough light to dispel the ominous gloom. “What a weird place…”

It was also empty. He didn’t see any of the world’s inhabitants. After a bit, he came to an open square and found an odd mechanism.

“What is this?” As Roxas peered up at it, something came hurtling down toward his face. “Whoa!”

What fell was a blade heavy enough to cleave someone in two.

“Geez, that thing’s dangerous… Why would they put it out here like this?” He looked askance at the device as bats fluttered overhead.

Day 149 is actually called “Unlike Minds”. This is the first day Roxas visits Halloween Town. I think Halloween Town is probably a thematic representation of the experiments on the darkness of the heart and the mind control experiments. Halloween Town is a graveyard (which is what Xigbar called the Chamber of Repose) that is based on the concept of terrifying people. There’s also a giant full moon in the sky.

Day 149: WINNER

Today’s mission took me to a new world. It was a weird place. I was up on the clock tower afterwards when Axel turned up after being away forever. He said he finished that long mission. But this time Xion didn’t show. I was gonna give Axel that WINNER stick, but I should wait until I get another one. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Xion out.

Axel comes back from Castle Oblivion on this very day.

Day 149: He’s the Sham

Author: Xion

That man wearing the Organization’s coat—that jerk! He’s too powerful. I can’t beat him unless I get stronger. And I’m not a sham. I’M NOT. He is. He’s the one pretending to be something he isn’t!

Xion loses to Riku and he calls her a sham, and a fake.

Today’s investigation took Axel to a world called Halloween Town. Roxas had been here a few days ago, too, but for Axel this was the first visit. Us Organization members should blend right in here, he thought in the unrelenting gloom.

Afterwards, Axel also gets sent to Halloween Town to look for Riku, and he thinks it suits the organization well.

Finkelstein: Interesting! So the puppet wasn't stolen after all! It ran away on its own! In other words, my experiment was an overwhelming success!

Sora: Santa Claus thinks maybe it left because it was trying to find a heart.

Finkelstein: That's quite possible. Unlike my Sally, it wasn't equipped with a heart.

Sora: But if it wanted a heart, why was it going around stealing all those Christmas presents?

Sally: Maybe because...presents are a way to give your heart to someone special.

I think Halloween Town was chosen as a world in Days for several reasons. In addition to fear, the story being built up involved experimentation and a puppet that wanted a heart.

Sora: Jack, it's not about the box or the ribbons. It's about what's inside the box!

Sally: No, Sora. What really counts---what's really special---is the act of giving the gift. To wish deep in your heart to make someone else happy.

On Day 149, Roxas was considering giving Axel the WINNER stick. When Roxas and Xion almost killed each other, it also happens in Halloween Town. And Roxas almost gave it to him again after that.

Jack: Oh, Sally! You've given me the nicest present in the world! And I've nothing to give you in return. What would you like? Just name it. Absolutely anything.

Sally: The nicest present I could ever ask for, Jack, is just to be with you.

I think the WINNER stick was something that Isa gave Lea as a human. And it pretty much was the equivalent of the presents the puppet was trying to steal. It isn’t objectively valuable, but it represents spending time together. It’s possible Isa gave that stick to Lea to thank him for everything, knowing that he wouldn’t live long enough to treat him to ice cream ever again in person. 

Today he had to destroy Roxas. He couldn’t betray the Organisation. Axel took a white envelope from the small shelf by his pillow, and stared at it for a while. And then he put it in his pocket, got up, and left the room.

In the KH2 novel, Axel was looking at this stick when he decided he had to destroy Roxas.

It’s possible that this is the last time I’ll see Saïx, Axel thought, as he looked at Saïx, who was sitting down, from behind. “We’ve been going together a pretty long time, hey.” Saïx kept tapping at the keyboard, as if ignoring Axel. “Say something. Didn’t you think I can’t extinguish Roxas?” Axel said jokingly, and Saïx looked up. “It’s all right. 'cuz I’m strong.” “Saying stupid things,” said Saïx, smiling for just a second at Axel, pulling at his chest. “Hurry and prepare. Time is limited. The hero’s awakening is imminent. Transfer right before Roxas.”

After he made this decision, he tried to bond with Saïx, thinking it might be the last time he ever saw him again. Axel was obviously very sentimental about the WINNER stick long before Roxas gave one to him. Of course, he couldn’t actually destroy Roxas.

Halloween Town was a dismal place, full of gravestones. Xion stared helplessly up at its giant moon overhead. What am I supposed to do…?

Xion was in Halloween Town when she was looking for Riku on Day 150.

Day 150: Too Precious to Lose

Xion didn’t come to the clock tower again today. She and Saïx had some kind of argument. Axel and I talked for a while about the things we can’t bear to lose. Axel thinks that for Nobodies, it’s our pasts, because that’s all we have to remember the pain of losing something. I don’t remember my past, but the idea of losing the present—Axel or Xion—scares me.

Day 150 is called “Fear”. It involved being afraid of losing something precious.

Day 150: Dealing with Xion

Author: Saïx

As expected, the Duplicate is starting to show its limits. The Program showed promise, but a puppet is just a puppet: something to be toyed with until it breaks. I am utterly at a loss as to what Roxas and Axel see in that thing. How best to dispose of it merits my consideration going forward.

This is when Saïx calls Xion a failure and thinks she should be disposed of.

Day 171: What’s Love?

On my mission at Beast’s Castle, Xaldin told me about “love” and the special power it has over people. I tried to ask Axel about it, but his explanation didn’t make any sense to me. Every time I ask him about this kind of thing, he tells me I need a heart to understand. It’s like he’s dodging the questions.

On Day 171, Roxas learns about the power of love, which comes from the heart. Love is about protecting what’s most important to you.

Day 171: The No. i Project

Author: Saïx

Xion failed to complete its mission. If this continues, destroying it and using the next Replica as the Duplicate would undoubtedly yield a higher-grade copy. No. i was among the initial lot, which naturally raises questions about its capabilities. At present, it is nothing short of broken. I cannot fathom why Xemnas would want to keep it.

And Xion collapses on this day. Saïx thinks she’s totally broken and doesn’t know why Xemnas wants to keep her. There seems to be a parallel to Isa’s past with all of this. Isa was considered useless and broken, and he was probably going to be disposed of. Lea of course couldn’t bear that and wanted to protect him.

“The arrangements are all settled,” answered Saïx.

Xigbar snorted at him. “How do you see Xion?”

“What do you mean?” Vague words. A clear will is the only thing of any importance, Saïx was thinking.

Xigbar grinned in reply, and asked Xemnas this time. “It doesn’t matter if you get the meaning. What about you?” Xemnas looked at Xigbar. “Don’t you and me sometimes see eye to eye, as they say?” Xigbar said, shrugging, and Xemnas smiled. Is that a yes, or a no?

“Keep an eye on Roxas.” Without answering Xigbar, Xemnas made himself disappear.

“Yeah, do your best now.” Xigbar followed after. I wonder what on earth Xigbar was trying to say…

Saïx’s scar is on his mind’s eye. Xigbar and Xemnas see “eye to eye”. That is to say, they are of like mind. Saïx can’t see what they see. And the joke is that he can’t really “keep an eye” on Roxas, so to speak. He still has the same mind as they do, but he doesn’t realize it because his mind’s eye has been shut down.

Day 352: What I Must Do

Author: Xion

Riku gave me this time. Axel told me to spend it thinking for myself. The Organization is determined to erase either me or Roxas. They'll never allow us to coexist. I love Roxas and Axel. I'm sure Saïx would scoff at that. Call it a trick of my artificial memories. But the time I spent on that clock tower was real. I wish the three of us could stay together, just like this, forever. But I have to end this. I'll never forget today's sunset. Even if Roxas and Axel do, I won't forget.

Xion was able to think for herself. And she was capable of love, which she said Saïx would scoff at. I think this was supposed to be very ironic, since we would have learned that Isa loved Lea very much.

“In the way of us. I trust you.”

Axel cracked a dry smile. “You say that exactly like you would if you had a heart.”

“My memories of the time I did have one are making it so, that’s all. If you get in the way any further, though, the memories I have since becoming a Nobody will overwrite them.”

“…That sounds like a threat.”

“More or less. Keep it in mind.” Finished with the conversation, Saïx walked away. Axel didn’t move for a while.

On this day, before Axel intervened, Saïx told Axel he trusted him, and Axel said it sounded just like he had a heart. Then he issued a threat and told Axel to keep it it mind. Axel still didn’t let Roxas and Xion kill each other.

“That’s my Poppet! Leaving me with nothing do to here,” said Xigbar, grinning as he watched Xion fight. He turned to Axel. “Don’t you think so, Carrot-top?”

“Yeah. I have no idea why you’re here either,” said Axel, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Xigbar laughed like it was unbearably funny, body almost bent double. “Hahaha. So very true. It’s because I tagged along on my own selfish whim, that’s all. Guys shooting for power do make a point to listen to guys like me.” Guys shooting for power—he means Saïx. Axel listened to Xigbar in silence.

I think this is the main thing that made Saïx and Xigbar’s relationship so interesting. Saïx is a guy shooting for power. Xigbar finds it hilarious because he remembers Isa as a powerless kid who was turned into a human puppet for being too weak to resist. Although Saïx is trying to gain power, he is incapable of the power of love since his heart was captured.

Sora: What do you know? You weren’t even there! If you were, you’d admire Herc’s courage.

Xigbar: I don’t admire one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him. You’re all just lining up to lose out. Dooming others to take the fall with ya. Oh. and you can spare me the usual party line. Yes, hearts are powerful when they’re connected. But if you put too much of that power in one place, some of those hearts might end up breaking. Still, Sora, that doesn’t mean you should change. Accept the power you’re given. Find the hearts joined to yours.

Isa seemed to have a really strong heart. He may not have been physically strong, but he still had power. I'm sure Xigbar saw Ventus glaring at him for an important reason. Xigbar was involved with the fate of Terra, Aqua, and Ventus. But he was much more heavily involved in the experiments. I think the reason Xigbar saw Ventus might have been because Isa reminded him of Ven.

“Yes, it was not supposed to gain a mind of its own—nor become the person we see.” Xemnas closed his eyes. “But in the end, it only proves that the puppet is the more worthy vessel.”

“Whether Xion takes from Roxas the rest of what he has to give…or whether he destroys her first and takes back what is his, there is no change to our plans. No matter how, Sora’s power will belong to us.”

“Understood, sir.” Xemnas disappeared nearly before he heard his order acknowledged.

“…Well, do your best. The best a kid without a heart can do, anyway,” said Xigbar, and he too disappeared.

Just before Roxas runs away, Xemnas and Xigbar say these things to Saïx. Somewhere along the way, Isa probably went from a broken puppet that was going to be disposed of, to being considered the more worthy vessel. Just like Xion.

Day 355: I Am

I have to know who I am...I am DONE WITH THIS.

Roxas left the organization and used his ability to think for himself. His diary entry is entitled, “I Am”. Xion’s theme is called, “Who Am I?”

Day 355: Mind

Author: Xigbar

The gears of Xemnas’ plans have begun to spin wild since the loss of half our membership at Castle Oblivion. The results are there, but can this state of affairs fairly be called a success? If Kingdom Hearts can be said to possess a mind of its own, it is surely rejecting Xemnas—no, rejecting Xehanort. Roxas left the Organization today.

And Xigbar’s entry is entitled “Mind”. He said Kingdom Hearts had a mind of its own and was rejecting Xemnas. The mind control experiments no doubt involved the subject’s mind rejecting Xehanort. Saïx only thinks he’s Isa, but it’s all smoke and mirrors.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Jennoasis!

Read on AO3

*****

Tattoo My Heart

Stiles was born with the phases of the moon tattooed down his spine. Most of the earliest pictures of his existence were of him laying on his stomach with his back on display. Sometimes he was on his father, sometimes on his mother, sometimes sleeping, sometimes not. As he grew older, he would wonder what it meant.

He would wonder whether his soulmate would be whimsical and free-spirited. Whether it meant his soulmate would be prone to pessimism and hopeless thoughts and contemplations about the vastness of the universe. Whether they would know all the constellations and prefer the darkness to light. Whether they would be brilliant in a soft, muted way, or ever-changing, or have the ability to make slow but constant impact on vast things, the way the moon affected the ocean.

Stiles would lay awake at night wondering.

Why the moon?

And when Scott got bitten, he laughed until he cried. And then laughed some more.

-

Derek grew up knowing his soulmate had an insatiable curiosity and an extremely short attention span.

Images flitted over his skin constantly.

Peter teased him about having a soulmate so entirely different from him. Someone capricious, that tended to lean toward dangerous things.

He howled with laughter when a wolf settled onto Derek’s skin, only to replaced by a panther the very next day.

Even if Derek were at all inclined to tell his uncle secrets the man hadn’t already figured out for himself, he still would never have explained that the wolf had simply moved from his bicep to curl up with its head on its paws just underneath his collar bone.

Peter found out anyway, because it was impossible for two wolves in the same pack to never see each other shirtless at the very least. Peter waited for the wolf to really disappear so he could tease, but had to content himself with mocking the way the wolf shrunk until it was just a small little thing in the pocket of Derek’s shoulder.

But his scathing comments barely registered to Derek, because it was what let him know that when his soulmate truly loved something they never let it go.

-

A cello appeared on Stiles. At first, it was a lovely instrument. The burnished teak color contrasted beautifully with his pale skin. The bow leaned gracefully against the cello, and one could almost hear the soft strains of soothing music.

And then one day, not that long after its first appearance, the instrument had snapped strings and warped wood. The hair of the bow lost its sheen and was cut in half to hang loosely. There were deep gouges.

Stiles didn’t realize they were claw marks until much, much later.

-

Derek had a sand castle on his skin. It looked like a child’s drawing of a sand castle mostly.

Did his soulmate love the beach? Did it represent a cherished memory?

Derek had the sense it had to be something specific. He felt that if it was about his soulmate loving the beach, he would be marked with something representing the ocean.

They seemed like that to him. Tempestuous and wild. Ever-changing. A chaotic surface and boundless depths. Peter said making assumptions about his soulmate would only lead to disappointment.

Still, Derek wondered if ocean waves ever appeared on his soulmate’s skin.

-

Siles had a basketball on him. He wondered whether his soulmate was on a team or whether they just liked the game. Did they play for their school? Was it something for fun, just to let loose?

What if they were more athletic than him? It wouldn't exactly be hard after all. Stiles could already tell he was going to grow up scrawny with barely any muscle at all. He wondered if his soulmate would laugh at how different they were.

-

“Your soulmate is so weird,” Laura murmured. Her eyes were on the picture of a brain scan that colored Derek’s skin.

Derek shrugged. He thought the same thing, though with much more fondness than Laura did.

Peter stared for a while, but didn’t say anything. Not even the slightest teasing comment.

Laura and Derek shared a glance.

“What is it?” Derek asked.

“Nothing,” Peter said with a casual shrug. “It’s probably not their brain.”

Laura’s spine went straight. She placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “What if it was?” she demanded to know.

Peter shook his head. “All I know is the colors are in the wrong places.”

Derek tried to convince himself that his soulmate was just learning something new, had found some new obsession to explore with their boundless curiosity. But the days passed by and the scan didn’t move or shrink or fade.

Derek was torn about how to feel.

Because if the scan didn’t belong to his soulmate, it certainly belonged to someone they loved dearly.

-

There was a necklace on a bed of purple flowers.

After research, Stiles figured out it was aconite.

Wolfsbane.

He didn’t really understand the necklace. But the wolfsbane made him wonder. Was his soulmate into mythical lore? Or was this some kind of oblique reference to being poisoned?

The way the necklace was settled into the petals, the subtle twist of the chain. It seemed intimate. Stiles thought of poison and how love could hurt. He thought of his obsession with wolves in the fifth grade. He wondered.

Stiles knew a lot about werewolves long before his best friend became one. And he wasn’t that surprised they existed. Not really.

-

There was a star on his skin. It appeared not long after the brain scan faded. It wasn't gone, but the colors had lost their luster in a way that made Derek think whoever it represented was gone forever.

The star was big, five pointed, and gold. It looked like a sheriff star from old western movies. Unlike most other things that appeared the star never grew smaller. It was in a strange minority with the brain scan and the sandcastle. In fact, sometimes the star would even grow bigger.

But it lost some of its brilliance over the years. It was difficult to explain how the image had its own overall vibrancy that stayed the same, and even grew at times, but the star itself got a bit dull. A bit scuffed, the points not as sharp.

Derek wondered if the star represented a person. If it was that person that was deteriorating. Or if his soulmate’s perception of them was becoming disillusioned.

-

Stiles woke up with a symbol on his chest one day. It was a triskele, he found. It seemed different than his other marks somehow. More vivid. A deep red in the center that faded to black. He would get caught up staring at it in the mirror.

He would think of the broken cello, the intimate poison, and this symbol pulsing blood red in the center like a weeping wound.

He knew his soulmate had been hurt. Was still hurting.

His dad caught sight of his chest one day and paused with wide eyes.

“There is something different about it!” Stiles exclaimed.

John checked his expression, but it was too late.

“Your soulmate got a tattoo,” he said.

Stiles blinked at him. “Tattoos show up?”

“Not always,” John said, “Not usually.”

Stiles stared at his father, trying to beam the full force of his curiosity out of his eyes.

John sighed. “Stiles, I told you to stop doing that. You look demented.”

Stiles shrugged. It worked to get him the information he wanted more often than not, so it was all good as far as he was concerned.

John studied his son. Stiles would only go look it up himself if John didn’t tell him. “Tattoos don't usually show up unless the bond is particularly strong.”

Stiles began to smile. It faded when he took a closer look at his dad’s expression.

“Isn’t that good?” he asked uncertainly.

John shook his head. “Intensity isn’t always a good thing when it comes to soulmate relationships.”

Stiles thought of the case descriptions that had trickled through to him over the years. Vicious abuse cycles. Codependency. Murders because of jealousy. Suicides because someone’s soulmate died.

He nodded at his dad to show he understood.

Intensity wasn’t always a good thing.

“Will it be on the same place on them?” he asked.

“Not necessarily,” John said. “It might not even be that color.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Over time, he found out the triskele absolutely would not be the same color, since the outer edges seemed to change according to his soulmate’s most prevalent and constant mood.

The center always stayed that fresh-cut red.

-

Derek didn't like Stiles when they first met. He knew his own inability to protect people. He didn't want someone like Stiles involved in what was going on. Someone so pretty and fragile, with such wide innocent eyes.

He soon learned Stiles was beautiful like the ocean, and even less likely to be tamed.He had a steel spine, an iron will, and those innocent eyes sparked with fiery passion at the slightest provocation.

Derek knew the dangers of fire by now, knew how easy it was to get burned. And yet there he still was, drawn like a moth, fluttering at the edges of a light he knew he was not allowed to have. A light that would only deepen the darkness around him, in him, if it were ever to go out.

The most he would allow himself was a slight suspicion and a resolute indifference to confirmation.

-

Stiles suspected Derek Hale was his soulmate from that first time in the woods. Even though Derek clearly didn’t like him, everything about the man made Stiles hum. From his cheekbones to his hostile glare, his leather jacket to his surprisingly soft voice.

And then he thought Derek was a murderer and he was still pretty sure, but he was hoping he was wrong because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life hiding bodies.He would do it, and more, for his soulmate but he didn't actually want to.

Stiles would always be surprised at his own reaction when he found out for sure.

He saw the triskele first, right in the center of Derek’s back.

Stiles had the fleeting thought of how they would match up and maybe Derek preferred being the little spoon, before the wolf turned around.

Stiles caught sight of his mom’s brain scan and mentally noped the fuck out. He stayed mostly silent through the following interaction, as blank as he could possibly be out of sheer self-preservation.

He didn’t have a panic attack until he got home.

It was hours later when Scott called him to assure him that just because they both had triskeles didn’t mean Derek was Stiles’s soulmate. They weren’t even the same color or in the same place.

-

In the end it was Boyd who spilled the beans, though Jackson was the trigger.

“Shut the hell up, Stilinski. Who wants to listen to you? You can't even get your soulmate to look twice at you. You really think he doesn't know it's you? That he's not ignoring you on purpose because he would rather have anyone but you?”

Stiles went white. He stared at Jackson for a moment and then promptly left, pointedly not looking at anyone else in the room. Derek slowly turned to stare at Jackson with crimson eyes until the young wolf left also.

After a drawn out moment of silence, Boyd said, “You're the reason he can throw shit like that in Stiles’s face.”

Derek looked at him with wide eyes, the confirmation he hadn't wanted suddenly given to him.

But he had a different perspective of his reticence as selfishness now, and he couldn't bear the hurt he could clearly see he had caused his soulmate. The sense of embarrassment and shame lingered where Stiles had been standing.

-

Stiles made it home only to find Derek in his room waiting to command him to take his shirt off.

“Fuck off, Derek Hale. Get out of my room.”

“Stiles,” Derek said standing from where he was leaning against the window sill. He stared intently at the human boy. “Take off your shirt.”

Stiles wanted to argue. He wanted to demand an explanation for why Derek had come here, now, to order him to do this. He wanted to yell some more, tell Derek to get out and to not expect to see him for at least two weeks. But he was tired of knowing who he belonged to and knowing that person didn't want him back without getting to say anything at all about it. If Derek wanted to have it all out right here, right now, then that's what they would do.

So he took off his shirt. And he watched as Derek took in his own life and love and hurts on Stiles's skin. He could practically see Derek thinking, “It's true.” But he wasn't prepared for the wolf to just whip his own shirt off. He’d seen Derek shirtless before, but it was different now.

Now it was to prove that they were made for each other. That they'd been marked by what made each other.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Derek asked.

“What was I supposed to say?” Stiles scoffed, “You didn't even like me when we first met.”

Derek looked away. Of course Stiles knew that.

“Plus, I thought you were a murderer,” Stiles added.

Derek raised an eyebrow. They both knew that point didn’t matter nearly as much as it probably should have.

“I love you,” Derek said.

Stiles scoffed at him again. He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling with pursed lips like he was trying to hold back laughter. Or tears. When he looked at Derek again, he was smirking, but his eyes were bleak.

“Because I’m your soulmate?”

“Because I love you.”

Stiles closed his eyes. This was too much.

“Derek,” he murmured brokenly. He opened his eyes and his soulmate was right there in front of him, close enough to touch.

Derek reached up and cupped his cheek.

“I love you, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles gave up fighting, and fell into his other half.

-

They found each other, and all their questions were answered.