#and you’re allowed to state your opinions and talk about whoever you want

[starry-marshmallow]

Friendly reminder this is a Kim Jihyun love-zone!! We appreciate him over here!! This is a safe space for people who just want to find content of Jihyun and adore him peacefully.

I will not tolerate any slander or hate on him at all. If you don’t even like his character or dislike/hate him, this is not the place for you.

[fazar234]

Understanding Lanolin

(First time doing an analysis, so I hope y’all like it!)

Hey all, it’s been a minute hasn’t it?

With Issues 63 and 64 of the IDW comics for the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise having released, it’s caused quite a lot of division amongst the Sonic fanbase, in regard to one new character in particular: Lanolin the Sheep.

And hoo boy, it has not been pretty.

A while back, I sent an ask to a user by the name of @molinaskies (btw go check her out if you’re into analyses of Sonic’s character and Sonamy fanfics!) about her thoughts on Lanolin, and she replied with a post stating why she wasn’t a fan of her character.

Now, I believe that everyone has the right to like, dislike, or be neutral towards whatever or whoever they want, including Sonic characters. If you don’t like Lanolin, that’s totally fine by me and I respect your opinion.

However, due to all the ridiculous hate she has been receiving lately, I feel obligated as a Lanolin fan to state my own reasoning and analysis behind her character. As such, this post will be meant to serve as an understanding towards Lanolin and her character.

Now, before we go any further…

This is not meant to come off as forcing my opinion onto molinaskyes or anyone else! We all have the right to our own opinions, and we should all be allowed to like/dislike whatever characters we want to! This is just a post stating my opinion and reasoning behind Lanolin, nothing more, nothing less!

Alright, with that out of the way, let’s begin!

Who is Lanolin?

To put it short, she’s a sheep from the IDW comics who started out as a background character in the form of another Restoration volunteer and eventually worked her way up to the rank of a primary protagonist in Issue #57, taking on the role as leader of the Restoration’s new task force, the Diamond Cutters.

Her first ever appearance in the comics is Issue #2, where Sonic and Amy are doing a formidable job defending Riverside Village (Lanolin’s hometown), which is being hoarded by badniks, until Lanolin runs in, informing them of an incoming army from the west. She’d then help evacuate the citizens into the bunker and assist in taking down the army.

Since then, she’s made plenty of background appearances throughout the comics, helping citizens, taking care of various tasks at Restoration HQ, or just chilling (which, given her character, is pretty rare).

Lanolin’s Flaw

Fast-forward all the way to Issue #57, where Lanolin gets her chance in the spotlight, and from there, along with further issues, we get a better look at her character.

She gets startled quite easily, doesn’t approve of recklessness, and prefers to operate with a proper plan. She also has a more stoic and serious personality compared to the other characters, which I feel is a nice change of pace, and can come off as bossy to others (which I’ll dive more into later.)

She wasn’t like this in her previous appearances before 57, and I believe the reason can be attributed to the trauma the Metal Virus, as well as other minor disasters seen in the comics had on her. She doesn’t want anyone to feel scared and helpless again, which is why she formed the Diamond Cutters, and why she doesn’t seem to take well to things going wrong.

In Issue #58, she looked defeated because of the scouting of Eggperial City going wrong, and in Issue #63, she snapped at Sliver because of the training mission getting out of hand with the boulder incident (more on that in a second.)

Lanolin doesn’t know how to adapt to the unexpected, and it’s a flaw she’ll need to overcome in the future, or she may meet the same fate as a certain platypus.

Lanolin’s Perspective

Now then, onto what I’ve been wanting to talk about most: her actions and perspective in 63 and 64.

In the past three issues that have released thus far, we, the readers, have full knowledge of everything that’s been happening.

We know that Mimic has joined Clutch and disguised himself as Duo the Cat to infiltrate the Restoration and join the Diamond Cutters, so that he could get close enough to get revenge on Tangle and Whisper. We know that he sabotaged the team’s training session by kicking Silver (which Whisper managed to notice) and causing the boulders and the flood. And we know that he made Silver look bad by falling off the chair he was controlling and made it look like he had attacked him.

But Lanolin doesn’t.

From her perspective, Duo is just a new recruit who wants to make a difference and is expected to make a few mistakes. She sees him as someone she used to be. It’s why she took Duo’s side in Issue 63, when Silver accused Duo of ditching him while he was struggling to restrain the Giant Chopper from consuming him whole, because to her, Duo had only been to overwhelmed by the situation to do anything, and from her view, Silver was the one responsible for the accident, someone she had expected better control from, given his experience.

Now before you all go “OH WHAT DOES LANOLIN KNOW?! SHE’S JUST A NEWBIE AND SILVER’S THE EXPERT ON PSYCHOKINESIS! HE SAVED THE WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES!” Yes, we know he’s more talented than everyone gives him credit for. But Lanolin doesn’t. She doesn’t share the same history with him that everyone else does. If she did, she’d know that Silver would never lose control that easily unless something (or in this case, someone) sabotaged him, thus leading her to also suspect Duo.

And the same applies to 64. Lanolin asked Silver and Whisper for proof, they only responded by trying to assault who to her, was just an innocent individual who felt helpless and scared, something she never wanted anyone to feel. From her perspective, a powerful psychic and an experienced mercenary were accusing a new recruit of being some shapeshifting murderer, without even bothering so much as to offer a tad smidge of evidence that Duo was indeed a shapeshifting murderer.

And before you go: “WELL THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE HER ATTACKING WHISPER AND HER ATTITUDE!” Whisper literally made the first move by grabbing Lanolin’s arm! She was simply trying to defend herself and be rational, stating that they needed to talk about her problem as a team! As for her remark calling herself a soldier, this is one of her flaws, her bossiness, coming into play here! She’s not a perfect person, none of them are! She’s a flawed character, who’s experienced in certain aspects of leadership, but is still new to being a hero.

Silver accusing people at random isn’t anything new; we’ve seen it before in Sonic 06 and the Traitor Arc in the Archie Comics (which I personally haven’t read myself), and the reason why Whisper was too quick to act was because this is Mimic, the guy that killed the closest thing she had to a family! You really think she was just going to stand there and let him do it again? Yes, she should have acted reasonably but she let her emotions get the better of her. And it’s because of that that Duo was able to remove any suspicion.

And before you ask “WELL WHY DID LANOLIN VOTE TO KICK SILVER OUT BUT NOT WHISPER?! SHE ACCUSED DUO TOO!”, I beckon you all to look at this scene here.

Duo tricked everyone into thinking that Silver was the one who attacked him, not Whisper. Had Whisper been with Silver, it’s likely she would’ve been kicked out as well.

A villain’s plan to manipulate can only work if someone’s fallen for the bait, and Lanolin is indeed one of those people. I imagine once he gets caught, Lanolin’s gonna learn from this and she and Silver will make up and all will be good.

Lanolin and Tangle

One more thing that people’s miscomprehension has annoyed me about: the dynamic between Lanolin and Tangle.

In @molinaskies' post on Lanolin, she stated that Lanolin has an objective problem with Tangle and would go as far as to replace her. And I’m going to try to not sound too harsh here, but NO? SHE DOES NOT??

In Issue #58, Tangle was the one to comfort Lanolin when she felt defeated during the Eggperial City mission, and in Issue #59, Lanolin nearly sacrificed herself to save Tangle from the dimensional traps! And that whole gag with the pong-pong ball and Lanolin swatting it away in Issue #62 was literally just that: a gag! Lanolin definitely gets irritated by Tangle, but she doesn’t outright hate her! Would someone who wants to replace a teammate nearly get themselves killed to save said teammate?!

Conclusion

Wow, that was longer than I imagined.

I’m sorry if I ever came off as harsh during my analysis, but it just irks me that most of the fanbase won’t bother trying to see scenes from different perspectives, and it feels like they don’t tolerate flawed characters at all.

In the end, though, you’re all free to like or dislike Lanolin if you want. Everyone has the right to their own opinion. But at the very least, you should learn to properly comprehend perspectives and realize that none of these characters are perfect.

I hope my analysis brought you all some insight, and I’ll catch you all later.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

They Say You Can’t Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Chapter Four:

They spent the next day getting Roman’s car back (which was still in good condition, just needed adjustments after driving so long on the road), and then exploring.

The town was pretty small, but there still seemed plenty to do.  Granted, Remus was used to far less to do, but there were still a couple bookstores, some good looking restaurants, a cinema, and, what Remus would have made them leave if they didn’t have, a rage room.

They both headed there first, and walked in to find two employees arguing behind the desk.

“No, no, shut up, shut up and listen, are you listening to me?” said the one with purple hair.  “I will put up with a lot of shit from you, but I am not going to sit here and take this!”

“Well excuse me,” the other one said, rolling his eyes.  “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to have an opinion.”

“You aren’t if your opinion is fucking stupid!”

Roman cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Um, hi?” he said.

To Remus’ eternal delight, the purple one turned to face him, held up a finger and said “Hang on,” then turned right back to the other one.

“Now listen,” he said.  “And tell me, Janus.  Have you ever run for your life?”

“Janus” said nothing.

“Well, have you?”

“You told me to listen,” Janus said.  “Do you want me to listen or do you want me to answer your questions?”

“I swear to god Janus,” the purple-haired one said, as Remus leaned forward, absolutely riveted.

“It doesn’t even matter Virgil, because we’re not talking about real life, we’re talking about fiction, and that gives me free reign to judge whoever I want.”

“Have you. Ever. Run for your life?”

Janus threw his hands up.  “No!  Obviously I haven’t, Virgil!”

“Well then how do you know you wouldn’t be exactly as stupid as a horror movie character?”

“Because I have a functioning head,” Janus groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“Do you know how much head function goes out the window when you’re running from a man with a chainsaw?”

“Uh, hey,” Roman said, drawing both of their attention.  “Are you going to let us in?”

“Shh-shh,” Remus said, putting a finger up to Roman’s mouth.  “I want to hear this.”

Thankfully, the other two seemed to take Remus’ interest as all the permission they needed, because they went right back to arguing, and Remus walked forward to lean on the desk and watch.

“I don’t know what to tell you Virgil, you’re not going to convince me of this,” Janus said.  “I don’t care how much psychology is behind it.  It’s a story, it doesn’t have to be realistic.”

“Yes it does,” Virgil snapped, looking up at the ceiling.  “It doesn’t have to be reality, but it needs to be believable!”

“I’m sorry, what is the criticism launched at horror movies so often it’s become a joke all on it’s own?”

“Janus—”

“Isn’t it something about the characters making stupid unbelievable decisions?  No, wait, that couldn’t be it, because that would mean you’re a moron who’s making a stupid argument.”

“I’m going to strangle you,” Virgil growled.

“Look, the way I see it, we’re diametrically opposed on this anyway,” Janus said with a shrug.  “Seems like we need outside input.  You want to ask the customers here?”

“Oh please leave me out of this,” Roman said, backing up.

“I think you’re both right but for the wrong reasons,” Remus said with a delighted grin.  “Yes, human reasoning goes out the window when someone’s chasing you with a chainsaw.  But also, it’s funnier if the characters are stupid.”

Virgil turned to stare at him.  “It’s a horror movie.  It’s not meant to be funny.”

“Is it not?  I’ve never actually seen one of those.  Not by lack of trying, it was apparently just too much on my delicate mental state.  But I don’t know, the idea of people running screaming from a guy with a chainsaw like that’s not gonna make them easier to find sounds hilarious, in my opinion.  Anyway, can you let us in so we can break a bunch of shit?”

Now both of them were looking at him in confusion, but after a second, Virgil sighed.  “Fine.  I guess since no one is going to listen to reason anyway,” he said in annoyance.  “Are you both eighteen?”

“Yep,” Remus lied instantly.

“Cool.  Don’t damage the structure of the room, just the items inside it.  You can hit stuff against the walls as long as it’s not hard enough to make holes in them.  Make sure you’re wearing shoes if you break anything glass.  Janus will take you to grab your safety gear.  Are either of you intoxicated, sick, injured, or pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” Remus said instantly, as Roman groaned and buried his head in his hands in the background.  Remus had a similar response the last time they went to a rage room.

“Congratulations,” Virgil deadpanned, sliding two liability waivers across the table.  “That’ll be 60 bucks for each of you.”

“Great, put it on our parents’ stolen credit cards,” Remus said, fishing one out of his pocket and passing it across the counter.

Virgil stared at him for a second, seeming vaguely suspicious, which was an interesting reaction, since Remus had just said out loud the cards were stolen.  Janus, on the other hand, was smiling at him, appearing closer to intrigued.

“You got it,” he said, taking the card from Remus and running it through before passing it back to him.  “Lets go get your safety gear.”

Remus grinned at him, and he and Roman both followed Janus back into another room, where Janus gave them both eye protection, coveralls to change into, and gloves.

Remus had been to a rage room once before, but the feeling had been totally different.  He’d spent the time smashing TVs and vases in an effort to get some kind of, well, rage, out at his situation and everything he was going through.  And it had felt amazing in the moment, but then he’d gone back to the mental hospital and everything had just felt more insurmountable.

This time, however, as soon as Remus walked into the room, he started looking around in delight at everything there.  The second Janus closed the door, he ran over and smashed a hole into a TV screen.  Roman laughed in delight behind him and went to do a similar thing to a TV nearby.

Remus whacked his TV several more times, then turned to cause a good amount of damage to an empty bookshelf.  When he’d hit that enough times, he turned to several decorative vases.  When those were appropriately shattered, he moved over to a pile of cords and headphones.

And rather than anger like the last time he’d been to a place like this, the whole time he felt like he was shaking with adrenaline and mania and joy.  Roman was taking out a fair bit of items with just as much energy, and near the end of their hour-long session, they both ended up in the middle of the room, surrounded by broken and shattered objects, with grins that were way too wide.

Remus looked around for a second, then started laughing.  Roman started laughing a second later, and they both ended up on the floor, laying down in a relatively clean area and staring up at the ceiling.

“Fuck,” Remus said.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I liked that better than last time,” Remus said.

“Me too,” Roman said.  “I pretended all of the stuff I smashed was Mom and Dad or one of your orderlies.”

“Fuck,” Remus realized, turning to look at him.  “Why didn’t I think of that?  We have to come back now.”

Roman laughed.  “You think Mom and Dad will be cool with us maxing out their credit cards on rage rooms?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, turning back to the ceiling.  “But I think I have a better idea.”

…

Virgil and Janus were surprisingly willing to hire the two of them.  Apparently they didn’t have a ton of employees right now, and two more would boost the hours they could be open, since Virgil and Janus could only work when they weren’t in class.  They were both a few years older than Roman and Remus, and trying to work their way through community college.

So now, when he and Roman weren’t apartment shopping or going on drives through the area around town or trying to figure out how the hell they were going to afford not dying, they were working at the rage room, usually with Janus and Virgil for now, since they were new and still learning some things.

Remus liked Virgil and Janus.  They didn’t ask too many questions and bought that Remus and Roman were both eighteen without asking to see an ID.  (Well, they were close, so Remus could understand why they bought it.  He and Roman both looked a little old for their age, you could blame the trauma, and they’d only have to last until June before they wouldn’t have to lie anymore at all.  But it was still nice that neither Janus or Virgil pushed too hard.)

Janus shared Remus’ tendency for chaos, and he’d introduced Remus to spray paint art.  Just on plywood that was going to get smashed in one of their rooms, so far, but Remus loved it all the same, and he sure Janus would be down to spraypaint in slightly-less-legal places one of these days.  It would be Remus’ first crime!  He was a little embarrassed it had taken him this long to commit one, but the orderlies had watched him too closely for him to get away with much back at the institute.  Janus was clearly experienced, though.  He said he knew how to spraypaint, and shoplift (which Remus and Roman should both probably learn just for survival reasons), and Remus could never be quite sure if he was joking when he said he’d gotten away with arson once.

Janus talked with Roman about theatre and acting, which was clearly less superior to his conversations with Remus, but that was okay.  Roman could keep Janus’ boring half, as long as Remus got to have fun with him.

Virgil was a little less out there overall, but he still got approval from Remus once he brought in his whole collection of horror movies for the two of them to watch in the back when they didn’t have customers.  Unsurprisingly, Remus decided he liked the super gorey fucked up ones the most, though he did ask Virgil to steer clear anything with mental hospitals or crazy people.  Virgil, thankfully, didn’t ask.  Remus liked that quality of his more every day.

In what was more of a surprise, horror-movie enthusiast Virgil also loved Disney just like Roman.  The two of them spent hours talking about it and debating it— apparently they liked it for very different reasons.  Roman liked the mushy gushy happy fairy tale aspect like a loser, and Virgil, in what Remus could almost respect, liked the darker undertones and weird messed up messages that could be found throughout the movies.  They both went back and forth on this topic often.

And unfortunately, it was during one of these debates that they ended up on a topic neither Remus or Roman liked.

“See, that’s another thing about The Lion King.  I can’t decide whether they should have added soulmates or not,” Virgil said, waving his hand dismissively as he scribbled down something on the inventory sheet.  “Like yeah, as far as we know animals don’t have soulmates, but if they’re going to be humanizing the characters to such an extent anyway, it’s at least worth thinking about.”

Remus exchanged a glance with Roman, who rubbed the back of his neck.  “I don’t know,” he said without looking at Virgil.  “Honestly, the romance wasn’t my favorite part of the movie.”

“Oh yeah, me neither obviously,” Virgil said.  “That’s hardly the only great thing about it.  It just could have made Simba and Nala’s relationship different is all I’m thinking.”

Roman didn’t reply this time, and after a second Virgil seemed to take notice and glanced back up.  He paused and stood up straighter when he noticed both of their faces.

“Wait, did I touch a nerve or something?” he asked, setting the inventory sheet down.

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman said, but he turned away, and Remus looked down at his hands and started to fidget.

“Oh shit, I really did,” Virgil said.  “I’m sorry.  I got it, soulmates are off limits.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Roman said hesitantly, but he trailed off.  Remus glanced up at him, and he glanced back again.

“Dude, you don’t need to explain,” Virgil said.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t talk about it.  Anyway, obviously Be Prepared is Disney’s best villain song, but do you have a preference in regards to the second best?  I’m torn between Poor Unfortunate Souls and The Mob Song from Beauty and The Beast.”

Remus glanced over at Virgil, surprised to find him moving on so comfortably.  He really didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.  Granted, Remus didn’t have much of a perspective on how important soulmates were in general society, but it was all anyone ever seemed to talk to him about growing up.  He wasn’t expecting Virgil to be so comfortable writing it off as a subject entirely.

“Uh,” Roman said, seeming just as caught off guard as Remus was.  “I think I prefer The Mob Song.  It’s a good cautionary tale about thinking critically.  Sorry, I need to back up for a second.  You’re just okay with not talking about soulmates?  At all?”

Virgil looked back over at him.  “Yeah.  Is that bad?  You didn’t seem to want me to.”

“But…” Roman glanced over at Remus again.  Remus shrugged.

“It’s just not usually something we get to wiggle our way out of,” Remus said, turning back to Virgil.  “It’s, you know, soulmates.  We always have to deal with it.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.  “Always?  What soulmate obsessed nuthouse did you grow up in?”

Remus flinched hard, taking a couple steps back, and Roman stepped closer to him.

“None of your business,” Roman snapped at Virgil, who was now looking thoroughly confused and a little offended.

“Dude, you’re the ones who keep bringing it up now,” Virgil said, holding up his hands.  “I was totally cool dropping it and moving on.”

“I’m taking my break,” Remus said, turning around and running off before either of them could say anything else.

Instead of the break room, however, he headed straight for the employee bathroom and locked  himself inside.  Thankfully, it was a single person bathroom, meaning Remus was free to slide down to the floor and slam his head back against the door and slow his breathing without anyone watching him.

Virgil was going to figure it out now, and then he was going to call Remus’ nuthouse and get him shipped back there and Remus couldn’t take going back there.  He’d rather die, and that was not hyperbole.

A knock came at the door.  “Remus?” Roman called.  “Remus, it’s okay.  It’s just me.  Virgil’s not here.”

Remus reached up and turned the handle just enough so the door would unlock, then scooted forward so Roman could open the door and buried his head in his knees.

“Hey,” Roman said, locking the door behind him and moving around to kneel in front of Remus.

“This is the stupidest fucking freak out of all time,” Remus said into his pants.  “He literally fucking said we didn’t have to talk about it and then we didn’t shut up about it.”

“It’s… new,” Roman said hesitantly, putting a hand on Remus’ arm.  “It’s okay.  We’re figuring this out together, remember?”

Remus mumbled some kind of weak affirmation, because Roman was right but also he wasn’t doing so hot.

Roman squeezed his arm gently.  “Re?  Can I help you somehow?”

Remus pulled his head up.  “Can you tell me I’m okay?”

Roman’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Can you say it anyway?” Remus said, answering his unasked question with another question.  “Even though I’m kind of not?”

Roman nodded, and pulled Remus forward into a hug.  “You’re okay, Remus,” he said.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.”

Remus took a deep breath in and wrapped his arms around Roman.  And for a while, they sat there breathing.

…

They explained some of it to Virgil, afterwards.  Or, well, they explained it but they didn’t.  They told him that the two of them were platonic soulmates, and most people where they’d come from had been super not okay with that, and they were used to some kind of angry or condescending reaction when they explained.

Virgil said, again, that he got it, and they didn’t have to talk about it, which he’d apparently meant the first time.  He also offered to tell Janus so they didn’t have to have a repeat of the conversation, which they took him up on.

So after that, they had a job in a cool place with cool people, who were really actually okay with not talking about soulmates.  And Remus was pretty sure it was still going to take him a while to get used to that, but that was okay.  They weren’t in a rush.

...

Chapter Five

[thetomorrowshow]

defend

empires superpowers au masterlist (now fully updated!)

this is a heavy fic, folks. proceed with caution (then join me in ranting about scar's insurance /j). this is also pretty long whoops.

this story takes place about 5ish months after the end of 'poisoned rats'.

cw: self-harm (under duress), blood, flashbacks, referenced past torture, altered mental state (of sorts), emotional distress

~

“You’re safe.”

“No,” Jimmy whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is, so he can’t be safe. His master isn’t here. His master isn’t here and he doesn’t know where he is.

“Jimmy, please look at me.”

Jimmy ducks his head away, but after a moment drags his eyes up to meet whoever is speaking. Not his master. Someone with blue eyes and a grey beanie, and they’re holding Jimmy’s hands. He doesn’t know why—his leash is open for the taking.

“We’re in the grocery store,” the person says, holding his gaze. “Do you know that?”

He doesn’t know anything, but he nods anyway. He’s so very confused, glances around for Xornoth, doesn’t find them anywhere. Is this a guard? Why is he here without his master?

The person lets out a sigh of relief, squeezes his hands. “That’s good. It’s a little loud in here, would you rather go out to the car?”

Go out? Outside?

Now that the man mentions it, it is loud in here. Louder than most places Jimmy spends time in, louder than his cell and the lab and the meeting room. Jimmy nods, unsure if he’s allowed to say yes.

The man’s brows furrow and for a moment Jimmy’s certain he’s disobeyed, certain that he isn’t allowed to have an opinion. But then the man helps him to his feet—he’s still not pulling him by his leash, and Jimmy looks down at it, the way it drags behind him, pulling on his collar—but decides that if the man isn’t going to use it like he’s supposed to, he’s certainly not going to argue.

Outside is bright, far too bright, and Jimmy shields his eyes with his cuffed hands, pulling them from the grip of the man leading him. He cringes as soon as he realizes—now he’s going to be beaten for sure—but the man just hisses lightly.

“Right, I didn’t even think about how bright it is—how about I throw my jacket over you, yeah? It’s too warm for me to wear right now, anyway.”

Jimmy doesn’t respond in any way but pressing his hands further into his eyes, trying to block out any ray of sunlight.

Sunlight. He’s outside. It’s hot out, it’s so hot, there’s no breeze at all but it’s natural warmth and it’s so much better than the permanent chilliness of his cell. He’s not sure what he did right to earn this treat, but he’s going to bask in it.

Then there’s something dark over his head and Jimmy can lower his hands. He lets the man guide him, until there’s the sound of a car unlocking and a door opening, and he’s guided to sit in a car.

It’s not familiar at all. He gets in vans sometimes, he thinks, but he doesn’t know this car. He’s never allowed to sit in a seat. Something’s off about all of this.

“Jimmy? You all right?”

Jimmy’s not sure how this man knows his name because nobody knows his name, they can’t know his name, his name is the only part of him that belongs to him and no one else, the one thing Xornoth hasn’t taken from him—

“You can take the jacket off, y’know. You don’t have to if it’s still too bright, but if you want to you can.”

Jimmy doesn’t move. He’s supposed to have his head covered when he’s in the van. It’s the rule.

“Buckle up,” the man says, and Jimmy mechanically reaches for the seatbelt and pulls it over himself, fumbling for a moment before he finds the receptacle. Then the car is moving and Jimmy grabs the armrests, forcing himself stockstill.

“Um, babe? Are you up to talking about what happened?” It’s several long minutes of silence before the man says that, but Jimmy isn’t babe, he’s pet, or little bird, or darling, or bi—

“It’s okay if not. I already called your therapist to see if she’s available for an emergency session if you think you’re going to need one. No pressure, but just in case.”

Jimmy tugs a little at his cuffs, swallows. He’s fine. He’s going home, and he’s going to lay on Xornoth’s knee and let his master touch his hair, just like a good pet. Or if Xornoth’s in a bad mood, he’ll submit to his punishment. He’s a good pet.

Did he ruin whatever this mission was? Maybe he’s not a good pet.

He can’t be a good pet. There’s no way. He’d somehow ended up on the ground alone with a strange man—a guard—having to help him up. This isn’t good. He’s ruined everything. He’s ruined everything and Xornoth is going to get out the whip or the spiked boots or the cage, please not the cage, he’ll do anything—

The car slows and turns, bumping over a curb, before coming to a complete halt. There’s the sound of keys turning, then the driver’s door opening and shutting.

Jimmy unbuckles his seatbelt, trying to quell the shaking in his limbs. He doesn’t want this. He’s been bad. He deserves it.

The door opens and he clambers out, a little unbalanced from his bound hands. The man closes it behind him, takes Jimmy by the shoulder and guides him until the air changes and Jimmy knows they’re inside.

The guard leaves him standing by himself, but he doesn’t go far, calling out after a moment, “I turned off the lights, so you can take the jacket off your head.”

Jimmy obeys, winces when it’s still a bit brighter than before. The man is in front of him, smiling. He’s smiling.

Jimmy’s been very bad, then.

He lets his eyes fall to the floor. He doesn’t know what’s about to happen, but he knows it’s not going to be good. Often, Xornoth is too busy to deal with him right now, will throw him to the thugs before punishing him themself.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, I promise,” the man says, and Jimmy bites his lip to keep from vomiting. He doesn’t usually have enough food in his stomach for it to be a huge issue, but his stomach is rolling and he’d rather not take chances. “It happens. Are you feeling well enough to help me make dinner?”

Jimmy’s not sure what that’s code for, but he nods demurely, follows the man to what seems to be a normal kitchen. Where’s the catch?

Then he’s seated at a kitchen table and set in front of him is a cutting board with a couple of carrots on it, but more importantly—a large knife.

Oh no.

They make him participate, sometimes. They give him knives and jeer at him until he cuts himself, or a noose to choke himself on, or one of those batons to electrocute himself with. He hates it, hates that he has to harm himself, hates that he’s in control of what’s happening and that he can stop it at any time but chooses not to—but the quicker he does what they want, the quicker they toss it aside and hurt him themselves. He prefers that, prefers to not be in charge of his own torture.

But the knife gleams in front of him, unmoving and waiting. A glance up shows him that the man isn’t even watching, is just waiting for him to do it so they can get on with it.

Jimmy forces himself to pick up the knife, scrunches his eyes shut, and goes against every screaming instinct in his body. He brings it down in a slash on his upper arm.

His eyes shoot open as a whimper escapes him, and he sees blood quickly soaking his shirt and running down his arm—it hurts, it hurts and makes his head a little bit woozy but he has to continue, has to keep going. He draws in a breath that’s more like a sob, raises the knife—

“Jimmy!”

The knife is wrested from his hand and Jimmy lets out the breath, ready for them to hurt him, to hit him with the stun baton, to kick him and beat him until he can barely move so it can just be over with—

But the man is just standing there, holding the bloody knife, his face white. “I—what are you doing?!” he yells, and Jimmy can’t help but duck his head. He’s messed up, he wasn’t supposed to do that with the knife, he doesn’t know what he was supposed to do but it wasn’t that—

“Okay, okay, everything’s fine!” the man says, sounding panicked. “Right. I should—I should call for an ambulance, right? Wait—let me see it—”

The man pulls his arm forward and Jimmy can’t help but keen at the pain, but he allows it to happen, lets the man look at it.

“It doesn’t look too deep—but there’s so much blood—no, it’s okay, I’ve got first aid supplies in the closet, hold on—”

Then he’s gone, and Jimmy’s shaking.

This is too confusing. Usually they tell him what to do, or they do it to him, or they drag him straight to Xornoth. This isn’t normal. This isn’t any of the places they usually torture him. He’s never been in a kitchen in Xornoth’s manor, he doesn’t know what’s happening. . . .

The man is back, and he’s got a bundle of bandages and a first aid kit, and Jimmy’s still so confused. It’s just a cut. Usually they don’t bandage him up after each cut, they just wait until the end, until he’s limp on the floor and they need to drag him to his cell or to Xornoth. But this guard is pulling out cotton pads and a brown bottle and he’s pressing stuff to the cut and Jimmy can’t help but whine and pull away. He isn’t supposed to have help yet, he’s been bad, this is supposed to be a punishment.

The man freezes. “I know it stings,” he says slowly, carefully, “but you need this to be safe. I know you don’t like hospitals, so we’re going to try to deal with it here.”

The knife is on the table, the one he’d made Jimmy cut himself with, and Jimmy shudders and tears his eyes from it. The man presses the pad to Jimmy’s arm again and he jolts away, briefly meeting his eyes before looking down submissively.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to do this,” the man says, voice shaky, and before Jimmy can react his arm is being rubbed with the pad, quick and efficient and painful. Jimmy bites his tongue, does his best to stay still.

“Okay, it’s not deep. It shouldn’t scar, but Blossom knows more about that sort of thing, so I might call her and ask her to take a look, if that’s okay. I’m going to wrap it now, all right?”

Jimmy doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to talk to the thugs. He only has to talk to Xornoth. He knows they’ll just make it worse for him if he doesn’t speak, but it’s so hard to make his mouth move.

The man wraps a bandage around Jimmy’s bicep, blood welling again in the cut that the man had just cleaned. Once he’s taped it off, he looks up at Jimmy, catching his eyes.

“Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

Jimmy can’t disobey a direct order like that. He doesn’t want to be hurt even worse. He whines a little, clears his throat. Barely audible, he breathes, “I’m sorry.”

The man sighs, rubs his forehead. “It’s okay. We’ll fix this together, yeah? Can you tell me . . . why you did this?”

Jimmy whines again. This is a lot of talking, especially for someone who isn’t Xornoth. Especially for an answer that the guard already knows.

He cut himself because he was just following orders.

“I’m a good pet,” he whimpers, and what little color the man’s face had regained vanishes.

“No—No, Jimmy, you’re not—”

He can’t help the tear that escapes. “I-I know, I know I was bad, I’m sorry, please don’t make me go in the cage, I’m a bad pet but please, anything. . . .”

There’s a crash and Jimmy jumps; the man has dropped the first aid kit. He pulls out another kitchen chair and collapses into it. “I—I don’t know what to do—what if—” he takes a deep breath, and when he looks up Jimmy sees that he’s crying.

“Jimmy,” he says, and Jimmy flinches at the deliberate use of his name. “You’re not there anymore. Do you know who I am?”

Jimmy shakes his head, not sure what’s happening here. Is this a trap? The man’s face falls further and Jimmy whimpers. He doesn’t want him to be angry when he hurts him, it’s always so much worse.

“My name is Scott. I’m your boyfriend.”

His—what? But—

“We’re in our home that we bought together,” the man—Scott?—continues. “We live together here. Do you know that?”

Again, Jimmy shakes his head. This is—he’s in Xornoth’s manor, he has to be. There’s no way to escape. He can’t get out. He’ll never get out.

The man—Scott pulls at his hair. “I don’t know—maybe I can call Nora again, she said she’d have time for an appointment in like—fifteen minutes, okay, I can call her then. . . .”

Jimmy looks down at his arm, where blood is beginning to seep through the bandage. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t care that Xornoth is so much worse, he just wants everything to make sense again. “Master. . . .” he whispers, and Scott’s head shoots up so suddenly Jimmy thinks for a wild moment that the man’s been slapped.

“No, I—I can’t let—Jimmy, Xornoth—Xornoth’s dead,” he says frantically, moving to reach out but aborting the movement. “They died, and you got out of there. We saved you.”

He’d had his suspicions, but now Jimmy is certain this is a lie. He’s trying to make him betray his master, trying to make him believe that this is all real so that they catch him saying something he shouldn’t and then he’ll be punished so much worse.

He ducks his head, grips his hair in his hands. He just wants to go back to his cell. It’s quiet there, he can sleep there.

“Can we move to the couch?” the man says, and Jimmy’s not sure what he’s looking for with that question but he doesn’t respond.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?” Again, Jimmy doesn’t respond, but he lets the man take him by his forearms and stand him up, then lead him to a different room, one with a fluffy rug and a couch that he can’t sit on. The rug luckily only takes up a portion of the room, flat carpet beyond it. The guard sits on the couch, releasing Jimmy, looking up at him expectantly, and Jimmy flounders for a moment before kneeling on the flat carpet. He bows his head, his hands at his side. He knows what’s expected.

There’s a choked-off cry from the couch, but Jimmy doesn’t dare look up. He twists his fingers into his shirt—why does he have a shirt on?—and breathes out slowly.

“Jimmy? Would you be okay . . . sitting on the couch?”

The couch isn’t for him. He can’t be on the couch. He takes in a slow, measured breath. The only furniture he has permission to be on are his bed and the exam table. It’s a trick, a nasty trick to get him to disobey so that there’s more of an excuse for punishment.

He stays where he is, silent and still. Maybe if he’s quiet enough, the man will forget he’s here.

“Right, I’ll take that as a no. Okay. Ten more minutes until I can call Nora. I—it’s never been this bad, I don’t—I don’t know what to do. . . .”

If Jimmy looks up, he can see the man sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He lowers his eyes again. He doesn’t want to aggravate him.

He’s so tired. The emotional upheaval of misbehaving and being brought to an unfamiliar place for his punishment, then having to instigate his own punishment and somehow messing that up bad enough that he’s just sitting here, not being hurt, waiting.

Waiting for Xornoth.

He’s messed up so badly that they’re skipping the middleman. He’s going to the cage, there’s no doubt about it.

Adrenaline shoots through his veins, but he tamps it down. He can’t cause an accident right now. He can’t be in even worse trouble. He’s already going to the cage.

A whimper escapes him and he clamps his mouth shut, eyes darting up—the guard heard, Scott’s shifting from the couch to the floor and Jimmy flinches back—

Scott pulls away, hands up. “Jimmy, you’re hurting. Is it your arm?”

His arm? Nothing’s wrong with his arm. Either of his arms. Nothing out of the usual. He’s still functional. Pain doesn’t make him dysfunctional.

“Are you—are you hurting in other places? Can you point to where it hurts?”

What, so he can kick those places? Jimmy doesn’t move. His hands aren’t cuffed—weren’t they just cuffed? Are they still? They aren’t—so he holds them out in front of him, wrists close together. 

The guard doesn’t move to bind them, or move at all. “What are you doing?” he asks after several moments. “I—do you want me to hold your hands?”

He wants to go to his cell and hope that Xornoth forgets his disobedience. He wants less confusion. He wants his head to stop pounding, he realizes, as a headache bursts into the forefront of his mind.

“I don’t know what you want.”

Jimmy bites his lip to keep from making a noise. He’s going to make him ask to be cuffed. He’s going to make him act like he wants it.

He clears his throat, swallows. “Pl-please,” he croaks, “please handcuff me, sir.”

Silence. Jimmy chances a glance up, sees utter disgust painting the man’s face. He’s trying, he’s trying to be good, what is he doing wrong?

“I’m not going to handcuff you,” Scott says, and Jimmy’s breath seizes. Does he—is he expected to do it himself? He doesn’t know—

“Do you know why I’m not going to handcuff you?”

Jimmy bows his head again, waits. They always answer themselves.

“I’m not going to handcuff you because you don’t want it,” the guard says, and now Jimmy’s really confused. What kind of mind game is this? “I am your boyfriend, Scott, and I love you very much, and I will never handcuff you.”

This is too confusing. This is too much for his unrelenting headache. Jimmy lowers his hands, slow, unsure, but doesn’t move other than that. He swallows, feels his throat bob against his collar. At least that’s normal.

“Do you know where you are?”

Jimmy doesn’t, so he doesn’t answer. The man sighs. Jimmy bites back a noise of fear.

“Maybe she got out of an appointment early. Jimmy, look at me?”

Jimmy drags his eyes up to land on Scott—not quite his eyes, but he’s looking at him and listening, which is enough.

“I’m going to call your therapist, Nora,” he says slowly, carefully. “You’re having a bad flashback, and I don’t know how to help you. Is there anything you need right now to feel safe?”

He doesn’t need anything. He wants a lot of things, sure, but asking for them will only make things worse. He shakes his head in quick, jerking movements. He wants to throw up.

A long pause, then Scott says, almost doubtfully, “Okay. I’m going to call her now. I want you to know that I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” Another, pause, then: “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

Jimmy scrunches his eyes shut, forces himself to speak. The man is asking him a question, and not answering is just likely to make him more angry. “I-is my—is Master going to—to put me in the—cage?”

Scott sucks in a sharp breath, reaches out again but again pulls back. “Okay. Okay. You’re not here at all. Okay. I’m calling Nora. Just—don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

Of course he’s not going to hurt himself, he doesn’t want to. He’ll only do it under orders, if he knows everything will be so much worse if he doesn’t obey.

“Hello? Nora?”

Jimmy blinks at his knees, rubs his fingers together. He’s used to waiting. He does hours of it on the regular.

“I don’t know what to do. He’s—he’s never been this bad.”

He’s bad, he’s a bad pet, he’s been bad. He’s never been this bad. He’s going in the cage, and now he’s just waiting for Xornoth to come and get him.

“No, he—I don’t think he knows where he is. I don’t think he knows who I am. I—what? Oh, well I think he’s—like, I think what he sees is what’s real, because . . . well, he’s interacted with objects—and that’s another thing . . . okay, yeah—”

He’s not sure if he’s chained to this spot or not. He doesn’t feel anything on his ankle, and he doesn’t remember that happening. But it’s possible that the man had hooked his leash onto something.

“Jimmy? Can you tell me what you see?”

He’s not Jimmy. He’s not supposed to respond to that. They aren’t supposed to know his name. He’s just a bird to the guards, just a pet.

“Yeah, he’s not answering. . . . Um, definitely earlier. He had a panic attack in the grocery store, but I thought he was okay—like, he wasn’t talking, but I thought he was just worn out. But we got home, and we started on dinner, and he—”

There’s a noise that sounds something like a sob, but Jimmy doesn’t look up.

“Sorry. He, um . . . he cu-cut himself—sorry—just out of nowhere, it was—it was so—”

Scott takes a couple of deep breaths, measured and long. “Yeah, I do. I’m okay, I think, just really worried about him. . . . Um . . . maybe sleep? He’s never been this bad before—”

Jimmy whimpers, quiet, at the word again, but Scott notices and comes closer.

“Hey, ba—Jimmy, are you—um—did something I say scare you?”

He’s a bad pet, he screwed up in some way and he doesn’t even know what it was but the punishment is going to be severe. . . .

“No, he’s—right. Okay. No, he’s on the floor, like kneeling there—and he won’t move—yeah, like that. And I know—I know how to deal with that and how to help him, but he called himself a–a pet, he asked for them. He’s—he hasn’t been this far gone ever, not since the beginning, and even then I don’t think I ever saw him like this.”

His powers are still trying to cause an accident, he can feel it. He can feel the scar burn, but he swallows it back before it can send sparks down his arms. He’ll be in even worse trouble if he does that, and he’s already in trouble because he’s never been this bad, Scott said it himself—

“Okay. No, you’re right. Um . . . I think . . . oh, maybe I can just put some of my body wash on one of my jackets? So it’s a familiar object and a familiar smell? Okay, uh—Jimmy, I’ll be right back—”

Then he’s alone in the room, and it’s a moment to relax. He lets his shoulders fall, his jaw ease. There’s cameras, but they won’t pick up the minute slip of his stance. He hates it here. He can’t think it, he can’t let himself think that. He’s a good pet. No, he’s a bad pet. His head hurts.

There’s hurried footsteps and he snaps back to attention, only for something to be draped over him—a jacket? A jacket that smells strongly. Smells nice. Like home.

“Jimmy? Can you tell me where you are?”

Jimmy breathes in the scent of the jacket, tears brimming in his eyes. Home. It smells so much like home.

“Jimmy, look up at me.”

Jimmy jolts, looks up. The man is there, sitting on the floor across from him, one hand holding a phone to his ear, the other outstretched. “Tell me where you are,” he says firmly, and Jimmy looks around, clears his throat.

“I—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” he rasps. Just another thing to fail at. He bites the inside of his cheek. He’s fine. He’ll survive this. They’ll make sure he does.

“That’s okay. I—one second, Jimmy. . . . Yeah, maybe . . . usually he’s pretty tired after a flashback, d’you think sleep would help? Okay. Yeah, I’ll do that first.”

The guard looks back at Jimmy and Jimmy curls a little in on himself, grounding himself with the jacket.

“Jimmy, you’re not going to be punished,” he says, voice choked with tears. “Nobody is going to hurt you today. You—you’ve been good.”

Jimmy can’t help himself; he glances at the cut on his arm. If he’s been good, then why did Scott make him cut himself? Why is he waiting for Xornoth? Scott is lying, that’s all there is to it.

“I—I made a mistake, earlier. You’re not in trouble, that was my mistake. Your—” he cuts himself off, breathes. Jimmy looks down uncomfortably. He hates watching people cry. “You can rest, okay? I swear that no one will hurt you.”

It’s a lie, but his eyelids are so heavy. If what the man is saying is true, then he can go back to his cell. He’s going to go back to rest. That sounds incredible right now.

Scott’s waiting for him to respond, so he reaches up to grab his leash, hand it to Scott—it’s not there.

He can feel its weight, he can see—he can’t see it. He can feel it, though. He stares down at his hands, aching head trying to piece this together. Why can’t he see his leash? Why can’t he hold it? Is his collar—?

He bends his neck slightly, feels it press into the thick leather of his collar. That’s still there, then. His hands are hanging in the air, still feeling for something that by all rights should be there. He can’t help but whine, it’s all so overwhelming. . . .

“Oh, honey. . . .” the guard trails off, fiddling with his shirt. Jimmy swallows, bows his head again. He’s lost his leash. He doesn’t know how. It’s here but it isn’t. “Would you like to go to your room, lie in the bed instead of on this hard floor?”

That’s all he’s wanted this whole time. Jimmy nods quickly, keens in the back of his throat. The man’s face collapses, tears leaking from his eyes, but he takes Jimmy by the hands (Jimmy jerks at the touch, but allows it to happen) and lifts him to his feet. He must not feel like dragging Jimmy while his legs are working, even with the leash gone. Then they’re walking, down an unfamiliar hall and into a homey room with a large bed and the confusion just worsens. This isn’t his cell. He shakes his head rapidly, trying to shove away the ever-encroaching headache. He doesn’t recognize this at all.

Scott leads him to the bed even as his legs feel wooden and he stumbles over nothing. What—does Scott expect something from him? What’s going on?

The man presses him gently onto the bed, and Jimmy sits on the edge of it, every part of him screaming to get off, he’s not supposed to be on furniture, he’s supposed to be on the floor at Xornoth’s knee—

But Scott presses a little firmer on his chest until Jimmy lies down, heart pounding in his throat. He wraps the jacket around himself, suddenly concerned that it might be taken from him—it smells so safe, he needs it—

“Covers?”

Jimmy blinks blankly at Scott. What?

Scott’s face contorts in a weird way, and he pats Jimmy’s hand before drawing away. “I’m—I’m going out to the living room, okay? I’ll leave the door open, just shout if you need anything.”

Jimmy doesn’t respond, just stares at him. This isn’t right. This is so strange. The bed he’s in is well-cushioned, soft, and he can already feel himself sinking deeper into sleep. Maybe this is a new observation room. That place had a bed that he was allowed to lie in.

“Go to sleep, okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

And Jimmy is nothing if not obedient, so he closes his eyes and quickly slips away.

-

It’s dark when Jimmy wakes, and he inhales the scent of home and sighs contentedly. Then he closes his eyes again and lets sleep drag him back down.

-

When Jimmy wakes a second time, light is filtering in through the bedroom window. He yawns, looks over for—Scott’s not in bed. He must’ve been called out early.

Jimmy reaches out to his other side, gropes around for his phone on the bedside table. When he can’t find it, he turns, checks. Not there.

That’s . . . that’s strange, to say the least. Scott being gone happens on occasion, but Jimmy almost always plugs his phone in beside him before going to sleep. This is weird.

He stretches, gasps when his arm burns. What? Did he sleep weird on it? Actually—he slept weird on everything, it seems, because he looks down to see that he’s wearing jeans. In bed.

What?

This is concerning, at this point. He looks at his upper arm, right where it burns—there’s a bandage wrapped around it, dried blood staining it.

Was he in a fight?

Jimmy groans, sits up. One of Scott’s jackets slips off his shoulders, and he blinks at it in confusion before rolling out of bed. He’s a little dizzy, and—his stomach growls. That would explain it, then. He’s absolutely starving—and he’s putting some pieces together, sleeping in day clothes means he maybe fell asleep before eating dinner. . . .

He hisses on the first step, his bad leg throbbing dully. He really must’ve slept in a weird position. Maybe just sleeping in his jeans had done it, to be fair. He yawns again, runs his hand through his hair—he grimaces at how oily it feels, but he doesn’t have time for a shower yet. It’ll have to wait until he eats something.

He limps out of the room, scratching his face. Something about the house feels . . . off. The energy isn’t quite what he’d expected. He pauses by the hall closet, considers getting out his hip brace and cane. He ultimately decides not to—he’s about to shower, after all. He can just put it on when he gets out.

He continues down the hall, makes to turn right into the kitchen, but in the living room—

Scott’s lying on the couch, arm hanging off the edge, a blanket bunched around his feet. He’s asleep. Why on the couch? Is he sick? Did something happen the night before that Jimmy just can’t remember?

He creeps closer, sees that Scott’s face is drawn, eyelids heavy. He makes to kneel beside him but flinches as an unpleasant ache in his knees warns him of the potential emotional and physical consequences. Instead, he leans down, gently rests his hand on Scott’s forehead.

He’s not warm, actually cooler than he should be in the summer weather (he’s always been that way, though), but now that he’s this close, Jimmy can see dried teartracks on his cheeks.

Oh no.

Something bad must’ve happened, if Scott had cried himself to sleep on the couch. Cautiously, carefully, Jimmy reaches out, shakes Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott?” he says quietly, preparing himself to leap back if he wakes up swinging. “Petal? Can you wake up for me?”

Scott sighs, face scrunching up. “Jimmy?” he croaks, one hand coming up to drag across his face. Jimmy can’t help but smile.

“Yes, love. Are you sleepy?”

Scott fully sits up, reaches out to grip Jimmy’s hands. “Jimmy,” he gasps, and Jimmy can’t help but flinch back. Scott releases him instantly, eyes going shiny.

“Jimmy,” Scott repeats, and Jimmy glances around. Did he do something? “Can—can you tell me where you are?”

“Um, our house? In the living room?”

Scott doesn’t move, face solemn as ever. “Do you know who I am?”

This is weird. Jimmy doesn’t like this at all. “You’re Scott, my boyfriend,” he says, as upbeat as possible, despite the frown fighting to be on his face. “I don’t understand. Scott, did—did something happen? Was there a fight?”

Scott leans back, relief flooding his features. “Jimmy, what—” he cuts himself off, rubs his eyes— “what do you remember about yesterday?”

About. . . ?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

He remembers, now that Scott’s brought it up. He remembers the fear, the confusion, the unfamiliar face of his lover as he shook with fright. He remembers kneeling and cowering and waiting for punishment.

And Scott saw him like that.

Jimmy groans, flops down on the couch beside Scott. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, covering his face.

“No—Jimmy, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

He groans again. “That you had to see me like that.”

“I—Jimmy, look at me.”

Jimmy waits a few seconds, just to prove to himself that he can. He doesn’t have to follow orders. He doesn’t have to. Then he lowers his hands, meets Scott’s eyes.

Scott’s voice is serious when he speaks. “I love you, Jimmy. I love all of you. I’m not gonna lie, yesterday was . . . emotionally distressing.” He laughs a little. Jimmy doesn’t. “But I’m so very proud of you, and I will never be upset with you or your brain for reverting to a past way of survival when triggered.”

It sounds rehearsed, and Jimmy can’t help but snort. “You called Nora yesterday, right? She tell you to say that?”

Scott's huff and eyeroll says all. Jimmy giggles, leans into Scott. Scott wraps him in a hug, pauses before squeezing him tight.

Tears are building in Jimmy’s eyes, and he blinks them back. “I’m still sorry,” he mutters into Scott’s shoulder. “I—geez, Scott, you had to watch me try to punish myself! I thought—”

He ducks his head, too ashamed to continue. Scott nudges him a little.

“Will it help to tell me?”

He sighs. “I thought,” he says, voice shaking, “that—or, my messed-up brain convinced me that you were a guard, that you were going to hurt me while waiting for X—for Xornoth to come get me and put me in—in the cage.”

“Oh, honey. . . .”

“And I hate him,” Jimmy continues, undeterred by Scott trying to hug him closer. “That—the me who thinks he’s a pet. He’s so pitiful—just—just whining and so scared all the time, and I hate feeling like that!”

The tears finally spill and he cuts himself off, sobs into Scott’s sleeve. “I-I-I thought, I thought that you were—were making me p-punish myself! I was so—so scared, Scott, scared of you, scared of Xornoth, when that bastard’s been dead for longer than they had me! I hate—I-I didn’t want it!” he pauses for a breath, a sob, an animalistic noise of pain. “I didn’t want to—to have a fla-ashback, I didn’t—I didn’t want to sca-are you, I didn’t want to be a pet!”

“I know, I know,” Scot murmurs, rubbing his arm. “It’s not fair. None of that should’ve ever happened to you.” His hand shifts, rubbing up and down Jimmy’s back, and it’s too much—too much like them—

Jimmy shoves himself off Scott, pushing his arm away. “Re-red,” he chokes out, phantom touches running through his hair. Scott moves away instantly, his hands up.

“Thank you for telling me,” Scott says. “Is there anything you need right now?”

Jimmy takes stock of himself; runs through a breathing exercise. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Again. Again. He runs through it about ten times before he feels fully present again, no foreign touches making him shudder. Then he slumps back onto the couch, utterly exhausted.

“I just woke up, like, twenty minutes ago,” he rasps, running his sleeve under his nose. “I wanna cancel today. Can we cancel today?”

Scott chuckles lightly, stretches. “Yeah, I get what you mean,” he says, and Jimmy realizes that he’s crying too. “Good job thinking of the breathing exercises, I’m such an idiot—I didn’t even think to do anything for grounding yesterday. . . .”

“‘S all right, you were panicking,” Jimmy waves him off. “And you got me your jacket, right? Or did I imagine that?”

“I did, yeah, but only after Nora suggested it.”

“It still helped,” says Jimmy. He can remember smelling it, how safe the scent of Scott’s body wash had seemed, even in his amnesiac state. “It was probably the only thing keeping me from having a full-on freakout right then and there, to be honest.”

“That’s good,” Scott sighs, also falling back. After a moment, he speaks. “So don’t think we’re skipping over all those things you just said about hating yourself for your defense mechanisms, because I really didn’t like the sound of that. But I think we need a day off today, yeah?”

Jimmy nods furiously. He needs nothing more.

“Great. I’m going to go throw something together for breakfast, then we can just watch TV all day or sleep or whatever. Do you wanna stay here or go shower or what?”

Jimmy grimaces; his hair still feels oily against his forehead. “Shower. Then cuddles on the couch?”

They both stay there for a few moments longer, then Scott gets up and stretches and heads to the kitchen, inspiring Jimmy to get up and go into the bathroom.

When he gets out, skin red and hair wet, Scott’s set out english muffins with various sandwich toppings. Jimmy gives him a long kiss, puts together a sandwich of fried egg with jam, pointedly ignoring Scott’s barf noises.

And when they hold each other close on the couch, Scott wrapped up in Jimmy’s arms, the TV playing some trashy romance film, Jimmy thinks that maybe they’ll be okay.

[edensrose]

Hi hi hi!!!!! I love your blog so much!!!! I always come here to re read all the fics again💜💜💜 can I make a request? I've been feeling very sensitive lately, but I do have reasons for it, and my family keeps making fun of me (as if I am like this because I want to☠) and I have to deal with it alone basically. I loved those hcs of yours where Irmo comforted a reader because of the things they said about their smile and I was wondering if I could get something similar? Maybe reader is feeling very vulnerable and Irmo finds out and comfort them? Just something soft, please.

Hope you have a wonderful day☀️☀️☀️☀️

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ irmo ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. irmo finds you in his gardens and wishes to help in any way that he can

· ⊰ note. thank you so much dearest, but I'd also like to say that I'm really sorry you go through all that. family can really be a pain but don't ever let them weigh you down! you are worth everything and you deserve nothing but happiness. I hope this makes you feel even a little better <3

ʚ Irmo had heard from one of the other maia that you weren’t doing too well, so he took it upon himself to scout you out as he knew you often kept to yourself during times of need. And while he did want to respect your space - he didn’t want you to suffer alone 

ʚ He finds you curled up in his gardens and quietly takes a seat beside you. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to get your attention, instead he gently places a hand on top of your head in a comforting manner 

ʚ If you wanted him to let go, he would, but if you leaned more into his touch he’d gladly take you into his arms and let your head rest upon his shoulder 

ʚ Doesn’t force you to tell him what’s wrong but lets you know that he will definitely be an ear to listen should you need it 

ʚ Gently rakes his fingers through your hair and sings you a soft lullaby in an attempt to calm your cries. Would even press a soft kiss to your head and rub your back as you let it all out 

ʚ It didn’t matter how long you needed him to hold you - Irmo would do it without a hint of complaint. Even if he had to snuggle you until you were feeling better or sing you to sleep, he’d be willing to do whatever it took 

ʚ If he finds out you are in this state because of other people, he’ll try to hold his disdain towards whoever dared to hurt you - but he would make sure to have a stern talking to them when you’re not around 

ʚ “You are perfect in every way, dearest. Imperfections and all. Please do not allow other’s opinions of you to blind you from what a special flower you are.’’ 

ʚ Irmo would most likely sing you to sleep, gently swaying with you

taglist — @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @blueberryrock @a-chaotic-dumbass @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @heraluthor @pinkslashersimp @the-girl-king @qwerty-19923 @livialounalamontagne @sobbingbeauty @afternoonhours

( masterlist ) ( taglist form )

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 17 - Mind Games [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst.

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Love demands sacrifices.

Not even once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in handcuffs, in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table.

You weren’t even at the FBI headquarters though. The police had taken you to the station after the hospital, taking a blood sample and your fingerprints, then they had handcuffed you and left you there with a glass of water.

Of course they suspected you. Of course they thought you had murdered him.

Murder was your father’s legacy, after all.

You traced the handcuffs over your wrists, already feeling the bruises forming there. The shock still hadn’t worn off but you were starting to think it was a good thing. It felt as if you were watching all of this from behind some kind of glass window, perfectly aware of every single emotion but unable to actually feel them.

Spencer had said when you felt threatened, your body produced nervous energy, some sort of a fight or flight reaction but for once you weren’t trying to do any of that.

You just sat there, completely frozen.

“You look calm,” the police officer spoke, making you look up, trying to ignore the faint yelling coming from outside, possibly from the end of the hall.  

“I’m sorry?��

“Most people would be traumatized if this happened to them, they’d be crying, shaking…” he motioned at you, “But look at you. Still as a statue. You look pretty calm.”

“Would you rather if I were crying?”

“I’d rather if you were acting like a human being,” he said, “Why are you so calm?”

Why were you so calm?

Because your mother had taught you this much. Showing emotion when you were afraid meant weakness.

“My father was a serial killer,” you stated, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ve had a complicated childhood.”

“Yeah, I’d say…” he leaned in slightly, “You know, I’ve watched that documentary about your father. His interviews too.”

You raised your brows as he sniffled, trying to look like he was nonchalant about this whole situation.

“And I’ve spent sixteen years on this job,” he said, “After a while, you don’t even need anyone to speak for you to know what they’ve done. It’s all in their eyes and little girl,” he clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing behind your eyes but ice and death.”

You couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of people, not even if they tried to kill you. No matter how much they tried to hurt you-

No emotions.

“Impressive,” you managed to say, “Very poetic. Have you ever considered changing your career?”

“You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I think you wanted to follow your father’s footsteps,” he said, “I think you killed Anthony, and all those other people. It’s not even your fault, is it? Some people are just born broken.”

That was more than enough to make your eyes snap up to his and you could feel the lump in your throat but you bit your tongue so hard that you swallowed blood, making sure to keep your expression still.

“Nothing to say?”

“You’ve already decided what to think of me,” you said, “And I already told you what happened. What more do you want to hear?”

“Right,” he scoffed, taking a look at the file in front of him, “You went to bed around 12, didn’t wake up whole night, when you woke up you found him like that. Lying in a pool of his own blood, in your kitchen.”

“You don’t look like a whiskey girl.” an unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and you lowered your glass, tilting your head. The guy smiled at you, and stole a look at the whiskey glass you had put on the bar.

“Yeah?” you asked, “What girl am I then? If you’re such an expert?”

He thought for a moment, “Hmm, wine?”

“Depends on the occasion.”

“What kind of an occasion does whiskey call for?”

“Apparently an occasion for meeting guys with bad pick-up lines.”

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, I swear I’m normally smoother than this.”

“I would hope so,” you grinned, and offered your hand, “Y/N.”

“Anthony.”

“But you failed to mention the part you texted him to come to your apartment.”

“I didn’t text anyone.”

“We have your phone Y/N.”

“I didn’t text anyone,” you repeated, “Someone must’ve drugged me and taken my phone, the same person who killed him, the same person who obviously broke into my apartment.”

“How convenient.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I always wake up during night,” you said, your voice completely calm and controlled. “Always. I never woke up last night, there has to be a reason for that.”

“If you’ve been drugged, it will come up on the blood tests.”

“Good.”

“While we wait for that,” he said, “Why don’t we go over what you did last night?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said “Went to work. I left work at 7 to go to my sister’s place. I left there around eleven, came home and went to bed.”

“Nothing else happened.”

“Nothing else happened,” you repeated and he sat up straighter.

“Okay. Well just so you know, Dr. Spencer Reid—” he started and your head shot up, your heart slamming against your chest, “He is giving us his professional opinion at the moment, about this case and what might have really happened this morning. Do you have anything you want to change in your story before he’s finished?”

You gawked at him, blinking a couple of times before you turned your head to look at the one-way mirror on the wall.

The BAU was there, behind the mirror.

“….They came back?”

“We’ve sent them the report, yes. They landed an hour ago.”

It was as if somebody was trying to claw your stomach out of your body as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the burning behind your eyes before you turned to the officer.

“I don’t have anything to change,” you managed to keep your voice stable, “It was a terrible thing, it definitely was but I didn’t do it.”

Someone knocked on the mirror, making you and the officer look that way before he pushed his chair back and left the interrogation room. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing through the blinding headache but opened your eyes when the door opened again.

Luke.

He offered you a small smile and pulled himself a chair.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, sitting up with your back straight, your hands clasped.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you stole a look at the one-way mirror, “Is he there?”

“Reid?” Luke asked and shook his head, “I had to basically wrestle him out of the hall, he’s…he’s not allowed here. Conflict of interest. He’s giving his statement at the end of the hall as we speak.”

You nodded, digging your fingernails into your palms. “Okay.”

“He also called your sister on our way here. Couldn’t reach her, but left a message. Listen, he can’t request it on your behalf, but you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“I didn’t kill Anthony.”

“I didn’t ask if you killed him, I’m saying you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“Does he think I did it?” you asked and Luke shook his head again.

“No,” he said, “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else believes at this point, Y/N. Ask for a lawyer.”

You kept your back straight, rolling your shoulders. “If Spencer left a message to Mina, she’s coming.”

“Is she a defense lawyer?”

“No but she knows a lot of them.”

He took a deep breath and put the bottle of your pills on the desk, “The officers also found this.”

You tried your hardest to focus, moving your wrists to help with the soreness of the handcuffs. “They’re prescribed.”

“I can see that. The side effects say confusion?”

You arched a brow, “I’m sorry, do I sound confused to you right now?”

“No, you sound way too controlled right now, I may as well have been talking to a robot.”

You gritted your teeth, trying to control the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach, sending anger through your veins.

“I’m not confused,” you stated, “Besides, I haven’t been taking them lately.”

He threw his head back, pressing his lips together, “God, Y/N, you can’t say that. A psychiatrist prescribed you something and you—“

“They’re just for nightmares, they don’t make you…” you took a deep breath, commanding yourself to stay calm, “I didn’t kill him. I found him like that. It was terrible, but I didn’t do it.”

Someone opened the door again and Emily Prentiss cleared her throat.

“Luke,” she murmured, “Spencer.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat upon hearing his name but kept completely still as Luke left the room and Emily and JJ walked into the room.

“You’re taking turns now?” you asked and Emily cleared her throat,

“Me and JJ are the only people in our team who haven’t spent as much time with you, so we figured it would be better if we interrogated you.”

“I didn’t do it.”

Emily pulled herself a chair as JJ crossed her arms, standing by the wall.

“Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said, “With a headache. I knew something was wrong, I felt it. My window was open, the front door was half open and my phone wasn’t where I left it. I stepped outside my room, saw the blood, went to the kitchen and saw—“ you gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, “Saw my ex-boyfriend there. Dead. Lying in a pool of his blood.”

“But you heard nothing.”

“I never sleep for the whole night,” you said slowly, “Check my blood test. Something happened last night.”

“We don’t have your blood test results yet, but there was no sign of any sexual—“

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” You cut her off, a shiver running down your spine, “That’s not it. Whoever it was, they didn’t touch me, they wanted…”

“What did they want?”

You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. They wanted me to see it I think. My…my father’s crime scenes.”

JJ took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.

“And you don’t think it’s a little too convenient?”

You pulled your brows together, looking at her and she stepped closer to the table, her eyes fixed on you.

“Two victims so far,” she said, “The ones that we knew that were in the same place as you, they had some connection to you. That woman who was killed at the charity ball, you didn’t get along when you were kids, you turned her down as a client before she was killed, and now your ex-boyfriend ends up dead, in your apartment because you sent him a—“ she scoffed, “I’m sorry, someone sent him a late night text, inviting him to your apartment.”

“JJ,” Emily started but JJ held up a hand while you tried to wrap your head around it.

She had a point. Two victims so far had some connection to you and that was not a coincidence, it couldn’t have been.

“You think I did it,” you rasped out and she scoffed.

“I think you had something to do with all of this,” she said, “I think you’ve been trying to manipulate Spencer for something. The best case scenario, you were cheating, that’s why Anthony was there and something went bad, the worst case….” She shook her head, “You’re behind every single murder we’ve been looking into, and Spencer was just a tool for you. He’s my best friend, and if I find one single proof that you put him in harm’s way, I swear to God I will destroy you.”

Two people had ended up dead, and that was your fault. The copycat was going after people who had some kind of connection to you, and apparently no one except you and your family was safe.

The idea was way too painful to even exist inside your head, but it was clear as day. JJ was right, you were putting Spencer in harm’s way just by being with him, and if it were him, if you had seen him lying in a pool of his blood, his eyes wide open—

You dug your fingernails into your palms until it hurt before you managed to lift your head, that invisible wall which kept you safe from anyone and everyone who could possibly see anything you felt going up again.

“You…” you trailed off, your throat burning, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked but before you could say anything, someone slammed the door open, making you and the agents turn.

Mina.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked no one in particular and stepped aside so that 4 lawyers could walk inside before the police officer rushed to you to remove the handcuffs off your wrists.

“You’re not saying another word,” she snapped her fingers, “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“We’re going to need her to sign some papers,” the officer said as Mina grabbed your wrist to pull you out of the room, making you hiss in a breath and she froze, lowering her glances to check your sore wrists for any bruises.

“What did they do to you?”

You shook your head silently, and something in Mina’s gaze shifted. You had seen it only a couple of times, including that time you were getting stitches after some girls in your classroom had ambushed you in the bathroom, and more importantly, you had seen that look on her face when Lily had fever that one time and you all had to rush to the hospital and the doctors said she couldn’t see her.

It was fire, similar to yours, ready to burn everything in its path.

“Don’t say anything to anyone. You two,” she motioned at the two lawyers, “Read whatever she’s supposed to sign.”

The lawyers approached the desk by the door as Mina put her coat over your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as you swayed slightly on your feet, trying to focus.

“We’re leaving, okay sweetheart?”

“Miss—“

“No,” When Mina turned to the police officers and the BAU team, any trace of softness in her voice disappeared, “You don’t talk. If you don’t want to get into even more trouble, you’re going to listen to me right now.”

The officer that had been with you at the interrogation room just blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback.

“Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?” she asked, “What you did to this whole precinct? Because allow me to explain, my sister was a victim in this scenario, and you tried to pin this shit on her to make her a scapegoat,” she shook her head, “We will be suing you for defamation of character—“

“Mina, your sister—” JJ started but she snapped her fingers at her.

“I haven’t even started with you yet, wait for your turn.”

“Mina…” you murmured but she didn’t even look like she could hear you,

“Where was I? Defamation of character because press will be all over this, intentional infliction of emotional stress and wrongful arrest and hey, to make things fun we will also be requesting the security footage in the interrogation room and if I see one very small slip of anything that wasn’t supposed to be said and done in that room…” Mina tilted her head, “Well, let’s just say that by the time I’m done with you guys and this whole precinct, the only thing you will be able to afford is going to be a typewriter and a desk.”

One of the lawyers came to tell you the document was alright to sign and as soon as you approached the desk, a door by the hall opened and Spencer stepped out.

It was almost excruciating not to be able to run to him. He looked as shocked as he was and he took a step towards you but JJ stepped in front of him as you grabbed the pen, ignoring the way your name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

“Oh, hi genius.” Mina called out, “Were you getting a glass of water while your team was hounding my sister or something?”

Spencer looked almost confused only for a moment before he turned to look at JJ who deliberately averted her glances from him.

“Mina, this is not necessary,” you croaked out as you signed the papers and she shook her head.

“No, this is very necessary, trust me. You need to show these people what you’re capable of or they will try to fuck you up, case and point.” She turned to Emily, “You’re the one in charge, I suppose?”

“I am.”

“Good. Consider this your warning, because the next time anyone in your team, including the puppy dog eyes over there gets any closer to my sister, we will be getting a restraining order for each and every one of you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, still swaying on your feet and you hugged the coat around you tighter.

Not that you could do anything other than watching this.

“Your sister is an active part of this investigation, your father specifically asked for—“

“My sister is a civilian,” Mina growled, “She has no responsibility for this case, you do. How about you surprise me and do your fucking jobs?”

You took a breath to say it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t their fault but Mina turned to look at you.

“Get in the elevator, we’re leaving.”

You were way too tired to fight her, way too tired to even stand there so you followed the army of lawyers to the elevator, while Mina shot the officers and the BAU members a fake smile.

“Pleasure, let’s never do this again,” she said, and got in the elevator with you, and you tried to keep your expression still, Spencer staring at you until the doors slid close.

“4 lawyers?” you managed to say, “I don’t think even Bundy had four lawyers.”

“Tell that to mom,” she said, “She was on the phone with a congressman the last I checked.”

You couldn’t even smile at that, but Mina let out a breath before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, making the tears rush to your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her.

“Never do that to me again, you hear me?” her voice cracked for the first time and you nodded slowly.

“I won’t,” you said, “I promise.”

                                                   ***

It was as if someone had pulled all your energy out of your body. You were exhausted, you could barely understand what anyone was saying but you knew there was no way you could sleep anytime soon.

The blood test, as the lawyers had informed you, finally came back and just like you suspected, they had found traces of chloroform in your system. That and your team of lawyers combined were more than enough to get rid of any kind of accusations against you, so at least you had that.

On the other hand, the fear, the guilt, the sadness were still there inside of you, even if you felt way too numb to reach it.

You wondered if Spencer would have a scientific explanation for that.

Your mother had insisted you would never step a foot into your apartment again, she was already looking for a new apartment for you, one with multiple security systems and until that happened she had told you you would be staying at her house.

The damn thing was way too big anyway and you and Mina had grown up there so you figured it would serve as some sort of shelter.

If it even existed for you.

“Here you go sweetheart,” your mother pushed the tea cup towards you, “Drink it, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m fine.”

Kenzie heaved a sigh, “It’s okay if you’re not,” she said, “No one expects you to, anyone would be traumatized.”

“The real estate agent already sent me three apartments,” your mother said, “Huge windows, you love a bright apartment.”

“Mom,” Mina said silently and she heaved a sigh.

“It could help her distract herself,” her head shot up, “Y/N, you should go on a vacation! Somewhere far away from here.”

“Somewhere peaceful could be nice?” Kenzie added, “I think that’s a good idea.”

You and Mina exchanged glances.

“I heard Fiji is lovely this time of the year,” your mother said and you let out a breath.

“Mom, two people died because of me,” you croaked out, “I’m not going to Fiji for vacation.”

“Honey, you could use some peace,” she held your chin carefully and lifted it so that she could look at you better, “You look so…”

“I look like how I feel,” you said and turned your head when the doorbell rang, making Mina sit up straighter.

“Who’s that?” she asked when the maid walked in.

“Spencer Reid?”

“What?” you and Kenzie asked at the same time, your heartbeat getting faster and Mina jumped on her feet but you stopped her, shaking your head.

“It’s okay,” you sniffled, nodding to yourself, “It’s….it’s fine. There’s no point in dragging it out.”

“Dragging what out?” Mina asked you but you walked out of the living room and reached the front door, trying to ignore the warmth filling your system as soon as your eyes caught the sight of him. You stepped out of the house and he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply as if it helped him calm down while you just stood there, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

You had to do it. No matter how much it hurt you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

No matter how badly it would rip your heart out.

“You okay?” he asked you, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear, “I tried your apartment but I figured…”

“Yeah, I’m not going back there,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll move out, it’s fine.”

“Do you want to stay at my place?” he asked quickly and you closed your eyes for a moment, every cell in your body begging you to change your mind.

You couldn’t though. You’d rather die than see him lying in a pool of his blood, all because of you.

“Don’t say that,” you whispered and opened your eyes again, “Please don’t say that.”

He looked almost confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy before it dawned on him.

“Is this about the file on me?”

You shook your head and he took a deep breath.

“About today?”

“I didn’t send that message,” you said, “To Anthony, I mean. I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that.”

“And I didn’t kill him. I don’t know if you heard, but the blood tests came back positive for—”

“I never doubted that, not even for one second,” he insisted, “With or without blood test.”

“You might be the only one,” you murmured and he paused for a moment.

“What did JJ say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Because we had an argument on the jet on our way back here and whatever she said…”

You shook your head again, trying to smile.

“I get it,” you murmured, “She’s your best friend, she’s protective of you. That’s normal.”

“Yeah but if she thinks that you’re capable of—”

“I want to break up.”

You could swear the words burned your mouth, some invisible hand clutching your heart tighter and tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the street, because you were sure that every wall you built to keep your emotions under control would crash down the moment you looked at him. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that he froze and he blinked a couple of times, as if he was lost.

“What?” he asked silently and you tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

“Y/N, wait—no,” he said quickly, breathing hard, “Listen, whatever they said to you today during the interrogation, if that’s what this is about—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” you forced yourself to say, crossing your arms and he took a step closer to you.

“Whatever the problem is,” he rasped out, “We can solve it, okay? Don’t do this.”

That was when it dawned on you.

It wasn’t enough to push him away. You had to make sure to burn that bridge so that neither of you could ever find your way back to each other.

“It’s not one of your cases Spencer, you can’t solve this one,” you muttered and finally turned your head to look up at him, your stomach churning at the sight of betrayal on his face.

“I don’t understand.”

“You—it’s—“ you stammered, trying to find the words, “It’s going way too fast, alright? It’s going way too fast and it’s going to fucking crash, and I can’t—“ you cleared your throat when your voice cracked, “I’m not going to crash with this, I can’t.”

Your father had taught you this way too long ago, when you were too young to even question it.

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

Stab the prey.

“I mean come on Spencer, we’re not in love or anything,” you shrugged your shoulders, “Should be easy enough.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed, shock written all over his face.

“We’re not in love?” he repeated, “You…you don’t love me?”

Twist the knife.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

His eyes searched your face, as if looking for any kind of clue that could tell him you were lying, or that it was a trick but for once, it was in vain.

You’d had spent years learning how to control your emotions and your expression when it came to heartbreak.

Pull it back.

“It’s not my fault if you’re in love,” you said, each word making you hate yourself more and more, “I can’t be held responsible for that.”

Stabbing yourself would’ve been less painful, you were sure of that but you knew you had to keep going. One last step, one last sentence and you would be done.

Watch them bleed.

“I never told you to love me.”

Then, silence.

You had to give it to him though, it took him faster than it would’ve taken you to pull yourself together if you were the one on the receiving end of this. He blinked back the tears, clenched his jaw and in a second, his gaze turned cold, exactly like yours.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, nodding, “You didn’t.”

But you had forgotten one small detail. 

Spencer knew how to withdraw that knife and stab back.

You cleared your throat and turned around to get inside the house but before you could step in, you heard his voice.

“I was wrong.”

You looked over your shoulder, clutching at the straws to keep it together, “I’m sorry?”

“I was wrong,” he stated, his voice was distant and held no trace of its usual warmth, “Before, I mean. In terms of behavior and psychology, you’re exactly your father’s daughter.”

With that, he walked away from the house, and you just stood there for a moment before stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, that comfortable haze of shock slowly withdrawing from your mind like mist. That hand squeezing your heart twisted it in your chest and you tried to breathe, pressing a hand on your chest.

“Sweetheart?” your mother called out as she stepped into the hallway, then slowly approached you, “You okay?”

It was impossible to stop the tears rushing to your eyes now and a gasp escaped from your lips as you shook your head.

“Mom,” you whimpered, “Please, my—my heart hurts...”

She rushed to you and shushed you gently, pulling you into a tight hug and caressing your hair as you slipped to the ground and you buried your face to her shoulder.

Then the sobs came.

Chapter 18

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.

[astaroth1357]

A Demon Has Claimed My Soul! (Among Other Things…)

Your Guide to Possessive Demons!

So you've made a pact with a demonic hellspawn, the powers of which are beyond your comprehension, and now you want to become an item? Fantastic! Love can still be found even in the most unholy of unions! However, there are some very important things that any human should know before giving themselves away to the forces of Hell and that is what we here at Mammoney, Inc. plan to provide! In our award-winning guide, A Demon Has Claimed My Soul! (Among Other Things…), you will receive a comprehensive overview of the possessive behaviors of your new lover as well as the Dos and Don'ts for keeping your relationship on track! Remember, your satisfaction is a definite possibility! 

(Mammoney, Inc. accepts no responsibility for injuries caused due to taking our advice. No refunds accepted, terms and conditions apply).

Lucifer

Lucifer, huh? Are you sure you really want to go through with that, human? He’s really no fun at parties, hell no fun in general! But if you’re into being told what to do all the time then he’s probably a dream come true so whatever floats your boat...

If you decide to start a relationship with Lucifer, the first thing to know is he plans to have you and keep you. Once you've gone down this road there’s no going back now, human.

Lucifer will show his possessiveness most often through stating it outright. He will be pretty blunt about claiming who you now belong to and isn't shy to tell that to others too. Get used to the reminders.

He’ll do those old school kind of moves like letting you wear his coat over your shoulders or keeping a hand on your waist. He doesn’t have to do all that much more because no one would be dumb enough to try anything after he’s staked his claim.

DO: Pretty much anything he says

DON’T: Defy him, ignore his requests, or piss off Diavolo.

Leviathan 

Levi? Really? You know he hasn’t left his room in centuries right? And you’d be playing second fiddle to an actual anime character? In our astute opinion, human, this ain’t a good choice.

Levi is the Avatar of Envy so he’s going to be pretty possessive at all times. If you’re going to choose with him then just know that he won’t be letting you go any time soon… Literally. He will cling to you like his life depends on it.

Levi’s primarily going to show his possessiveness of you through being hostile to others like a pissed off snake. 

Any time that you’re not alone together he’ll be on edge or glaring at everyone around you. If someone gets too chummy he might start hissing until they back off. He won’t actually do anything unless someone tries to make a move, but if they do get out of the way in case he summons Lotan.

DO: Stay close to him (especially in public), let him hold your hand or stay on his arm, keep conversations with other people short, and always tell him if you’re going out to meet someone.

DON’T: Basically wander off anywhere without telling him first, flirt with anybody else while he’s watching, scratch that, just don’t be overly nice to anybody while he’s watching. Not even the Chihuahua. 

Satan

Okay so yeah Satan is smart, but all those smiles are hella phony! He really ain’t as nice as he looks and… What we mean to say is, Satan will act nice to lure you in but you better watch out, human.

Satan can act pretty chill when he wants to so he might not come off as all that possessive for a while. But the second he sees someone acting a little too close with you he’ll snap and start shouting at them. Doesn’t matter who it is or why, he won’t be able to stop himself.

When he does show his possessiveness he is shameless, almost as bad as Asmo, because then he’s trying to make a point to someone or other. PDA for days, but he’ll be glancing at whoever he’s trying to piss off like an asshole…

Satan's the guy who'd leave a lot of marks on you like bruises and hickies to speak for him when he ain't around.

DO: Get used to PDA, invest in sweaters, borrow Asmo's concealer.

DON’T: Do anything that pisses him off. (For more on this, consider purchasing our other guide: How To Calm My Demon Boyfriend)

Asmodeus 

Oh come on, Asmo??? Human, be real for a moment! He’s never gonna be faithful to you at all, I mean we’re all demons so it’s not like we really care all that much but humans care doncha?? You could pick better is all I’m-er We’re saying!

Asmo is going to cling to you about as much as Levi but that’s because he wants attention, not because he’s jealous or anything. He really won’t get possessive of you until someone tries to tell him he can’t be around you for whatever reason. Then he’ll whine, complain, and make a scene until he gets his way.

Asmo will show he owns you by trying to make you into practically the same person. Not in personality, just in appearance.

He’ll start by buying a lot of matching or very… Asmo-looking clothes and jewelry for you to wear. He’ll look for any excuse to put you in his outfits or make sure you use the same perfumes so you smell like each other all the time. Demons have sensitive noses so that’s as good as marking you for his.

DO: Wear the clothes and don’t complain, tell him what sort of style you’d prefer so he can pick more of what you want, try not to get annoyed by his diva act

DONT: Wear somethin' else without telling him, have sex with anyone else without permission first (who knows, ya may get it with him), ignore him. Ever.

Beelzebub 

…. Just a friendly reminder that he could eat you.

Beel isn’t going to come off as possessive of ya until he starts getting lonely. He’s pretty busy with practices and taking care of his appetite, but if he starts feelin’ like you haven’t been paying enough attention to him, he’s gonna get needy and want ya around more. 

He can be pretty childish about it, really. If someone comes over and asks if you want to go do something he’ll just pick ya up and tell them no. He’ll put ya down if you make a fuss about it but he’ll get grouchy so you’ll have to make it up to’em later.

If he’s feeling lonely, he’ll invite you out for food a lot more and try to keep you away from his brothers. He won’t even like you talking to Belphie. It’ll pass after a couple days, so just sit tight and things will go back to normal soon enough.

DO: Feed him. Constantly.

DON'T: Stop feeding him. Ever. Or look too delicious.

Belphegor 

Okay we all know what makes him a bad choice, so let’s not even go there! Honestly human, have some survival instinct, will ya??

Belphie will take the clingy route of always wanting to be around ya, but if he wants to go nap or somethin’ he'll just take ya with him. Doesn't matter whatcha doin'. If he wants ya there, he'll drag ya along too.

Belphie’s gonna be passive-aggressive about his possessiveness when others are involved, a lot of stare downs and lookin’ annoyed. He won’t tell’em to piss off like Beel would but there’d a general aura of “Go the Hell Away” around him so it’s gonna be around you too.  

If you two aren’t sharing a nap together then expect him to lean on ya a lot, probably with his head on your shoulder. Don’t stand still for too long ‘cause he will fall asleep like that and then you're stuck draggin’ his dead weight.

DO: Get used to being a pillow and not going anywhere for long periods of time.

DON’T: Keep him up too long, wake him up early, or toss and turn in bed.

Mammon

Obviously, the Great and Powerful Mammon is really the best choice, human. It's clear ya got a good head on your shoulders and that’s a good sign. But for the sake of being helpful, we will still give ya advice, for your sake and mi-… his.

The Great Mammon knows how lost and pathetic you’d be if he wasn’t around so he’ll take it on himself to be sure you’ve always got someone to help ya. Don’t go thinkin’ that he’s just lonely and lookin’ for a little comfort, ‘cause that Ain’t! It! And don’t go letting any of his brothers try pullin’ the same crap because he’s the only one who’s allowed to do that, ya hear??

The Great Mammon doesn’t need to act possessive because everyone will already know you’re his!... Okay, sometimes they need a refresher but there ain’t nothing wrong with that!

You'll never have to worry about his brothers botherin' you because he’ll always be there to scare'em off. He’s your first man so he better get priority and doncha go forgettin’ it! It's gotta be you and him against the world, got it?

DO: Show the Great Mammon appreciation for his time, "appreciation" can be cash, gimme cash.

DONT: Forget about the Great Mammon, ignore the Great Mammon, refuse to gimme cash.

[the-irken-pony]

For the record, there seems to be some commentary on the iffy morality of hunting down the bonus boss *at all* in Chapter 2, with how off-putting everything is, even if you intend to spare him.

Think about it - you have to go out of your way as the player/Kris to solve puzzles. Then you have to backtrack to hunt down the crazy guy who specifically told you to come alone and whose presence is meant to freak you out, so you can help him with an undefined "deal" that supposedly will make all our dreams come true. This is screaming "TRAP" to anyone who is paying *any* attention, so the player is knowingly walking into this with the distinct impression that it's likely going to turn into a fight, if not instant death.

Also - by the time you get to the mansion and thus make it possible to fight the bonus boss, the game is shoving problems at you. Lancer is turning to stone - Noelle is in danger - the Queen is planning something. Even if you wait until after solving most of the plot, you definitely can't help Lancer without leaving this Dark World first, but if you do that, you can't come back to fight the bonus boss. Which means we have to prioritize fighting this guy over helping Lancer as soon as possible - and maybe that's the norm for sidequests in RPGs, but there's something different about seeing Susie carry Lancer around and ask you/Kris to hurry up with puzzles and beg Ralsei to help that makes this seem more urgent than a lot of world-ending crises in other games ever do.

And lastly, that talk after the bonus fight, where Susie and Ralsei are questioning and trying to comfort Kris, who is clearly rattled by all this. Remember, we're willingly putting this kid in danger for our amusement - and with the rest of the Dark World, you can logically argue that it's necessary, as far as the plot goes. But Spamton needed our help to become a genuine threat in need of defeating - we basically built this boss so we could take him down, and we *knew* that we were doing so (at least with Jevil, there was a chance that people stumbled into that fight truly blind and felt obligated to do something to fix their mistake of freeing him - no such luck here). And yeah, maybe he could have become a threat on his own at some point, but did we really need to be the ones to make it happen? Did Kris really need to be the hero, here? The kid is shaking after everything we put them through just to experience that bonus fight - do we even care?

If I had to guess, the opinion is that people who sought out the bonus boss in the pacifist route aren't exactly saints, even if they aren't anywhere near genocidal. This was 100% optional, but hey - got some nice gear and a crystal out of it, right? Guess that means it's worth it.

Tl;dr - Building a boss with the sole intent of fighting it, even through acting, when we have more important things to do and it's making the characters quite uncomfortable is...probably not the most ethical thing to do. Kinda messed up, really.

I've posted this elsewhere, but I was curious - what do you think about this?

I feel like it’s also important to add that the boss in question is a strong parallel to Kris themself: Spamton is himself a puppet, being controlled by someone behind the scenes. Someone we don’t see is keeping him from communicating this directly; “[[Hyperlink blocked]]” is one of his signature catchphrases, and whoever was controlling him put him in an agonizing glitched state for daring to mention the Knight to Kris. He’s forced to follow their instructions, and is barely allowed to speak for himself until he achieves his NEO form.

And when all of his strings are finally cut, when he’s finally completely free of all control and allowed to live the exact life he wants and make choices that are his and his alone......... he falls to the ground lifelessly and slowly perishes in front of Kris and co. When he obeyed his puppeteer, he was forced through the worst hell imaginable. When he finally found a way he could achieve true freedom, he fought and fought and fought desperately to get it done, even pressuring the only person who understands to risk life and limb so he could do so, only to realize that the controlling force that constantly tortured him was the only thing keeping him alive. At least he got to live his last moments alive, though, right?

Spamton repeatedly projects these issues onto Kris--all the while having a full breakdown over said issues.

Not only are you forcing Kris into dangerous and scary situations for the sake of doing that one boss fight, but you’re making them live through their own personalized hell as they bear witness to a grim reflection of their own issues.

But at least you got to fight the cool secret boss and get the mysterious thingamajig :)

[ibijau]

on AO3

Beta Nie Huaisang goes to check on omega Lan Xichen, since his lover hasn't gotten in touch in a few weeks. When he finds Lan Xichen nesting, he can only conclude that the child isn't his.

It had been a while since Nie Huaisang had last seen Lan Xichen, and longer still since he had come to the Cloud Recesses. Usually, for everyone’s convenience, it was simpler for the two of them to meet in the Unclean Realm, where people knew to mind their own business, and where Nie Huaisang’s failings as a sect leader gave them a good excuse to spend time together.

It had been over two months since they’d last met. In all that time, Lan Xichen had only written once, and about sect business too, so it hardly counted at all. And so Nie Huaisang, who was in the area for some other dealings of his, had decided that it would probably be fine to drop by and check on the omega. 

The men watching the gate did not bat an eye upon seeing him, since it wasn’t so unusual for him to come unannounced, but one evasively warned him that Lan Xichen might be busy. That wasn’t a problem of course. Nie Huaisang had a permanent invitation to make himself at home in the Hanshi for those times Lan Xichen wasn’t free to deal with him right away.

So like always he headed right for the Hanshi, already wondering what tea he’d make for himself while Lan Xichen dealt with his own business. Only when he entered the Hanshi, Nie Huaisang was struck by an unexpected sight.

The Hanshi, usually so neat and tidy that one could have eaten off the floor, was an absolute mess . There were fabrics everywhere in all shades of white and blue as well as the occasional dash of green, plus a great number of cushions of many sizes that Lan Xichen was organising in some manner that must have made sense to him.

Nie Huaisang gaped at the sight.

Lan Xichen was nesting.

There was no other explanation. Although Nie Huaisang was a beta, as a sect leader he’d had to deal with that sort of things before. People were always surprised to hear about it, but Qinghe Nie was very welcoming to omega disciples, and of course alphas had to deal with their spouses. A whole portion of the sect’s budget was dedicated to this sort of things, just because Nie Huaisang had found that it spelled trouble to have a frustrated omega failing to build their nest exactly as they envisioned it. In fact, although he complained about the waste of money, Nie Huaisang found the process somewhat fascinating, and he’d always been happy to give his opinion whenever asked for it.

This nest, though, was instantly hateful to him.

It wasn’t as though Lan Xichen and him had made any clear promises to each other. They liked to fool around when they could, but being a beta he couldn’t mark the omega, and would have been unlikely to ever impregnate him. That was the whole reason why Lan Xichen allowed himself such liberties with Nie Huaisang: it was a safe way to scratch that itch without ruining his prospects for a proper match when the time came. 

Still, even without promises, Nie Huaisang had thought they had a certain understanding. He had never taken other lovers since falling in bed with Lan Xichen, and not just because he was too busy for it. Compared to the esteemed Zewu-Jun, everyone else felt boring, no matter if they were alphas, omegas, or betas. But Nie Huaisang himself, by comparison… well, if Lan Xichen had found himself a proper mate, an alpha, he couldn’t be blamed for it of course.

Busy with the delicate task of constructing his nest, Lan Xichen didn’t realise that he had company until Nie Huaisang closed the door behind himself, a little more forcefully than he should have.

He hated the way Lan Xichen’s face illuminated upon seeing him, so pretty like this, kneeling in the middle of his half built nest.

“A-Sang!” he exclaimed,. “I was just about to write to you, as soon as I finished with this.”

He gestured at the mess around him, and Nie Huaisang couldn’t help a disdainful scoff.

“I think I’d have waited a long while before seeing that letter then,” he remarked. “Congratulations are in order it seems. And I suppose I’d better leave you to it, you seem very busy.”

“Nonsense, you simply have to help me,” Lan Xichen protested, picking up an embroidered cushion and looking around for the best place to put it. “I’m not too good at this, but you’ve said you’ve helped with that sort of things before, right? I need your expertise, A-Sang.”

If Nie Huaisang had been a reasonable person, if he’d had a little more pride, he would have left immediately. Hearing himself still being called A-Sang after this hurt too much, as did Lan Xichen’s casual attitude, as if he truly didn’t realise that it might pain Nie Huaisang to discover in such a brutal manner that he had been replaced. Above all, no self-respecting person should have had to help their lover help prepare a nest for someone else’s child.

But apparently, Lan Xichen really saw no wrong with that. Nie Huaisang, kindly, decided to blame it on nesting frenzy rather than on the omega’s tendency to close his eyes to anything he didn’t like thinking about.

Lan Xichen was the only person that Nie Huaisang could have allowed to be so cruel to him without hating him. His one weakness, now and always. So instead of leaving, he quickly untied his shoes and came to join Lan Xichen in the middle of his nest.

“Hold this,” Lan Xichen ordered when Nie Huaisang knelt next to him, handing him some delicate furs, a present from Nie Huaisang himself some years before. “And this, and…”

“Quite the luxurious nest you’re building here,” Nie Huaisang remarked as he started laying the furs and fabrics around so they would be both elegant to look at and comfortable to lay on. “Is that even allowed by your sect’s rules?”

“It’s my nest, I get to decide how I want it,” Lan Xichen replied in a playful tone. “For once in my life, nobody has the right to tell me how to do this. I will take full advantage of it.”

“Hm. And what about whoever sired your child? Don’t they also get a say? Maybe they’ll think this is too ostentatious.”

For some reason, that remark made Lan Xichen laugh. Nie Huaisang found himself increasingly curious as to the identity of whatever alpha had gotten his friend with child. It couldn’t be another Lan, or else Lan Xichen would not actually allow himself to be so extravagant. A Jin then? He really didn’t like the idea that it might be a Jin, because there was only one of them close enough to Lan Xichen for this to happen, and if Jin Guangyao had dared to touch the omega…

“He won’t mind,” Lan Xichen claimed with laughter still in his voice, before grabbing Nie Huaisang to kiss him.

Again, Nie Huaisang thought of protesting on account of his pride.

But what was the value of that pride when Lan Xichen's lips were on his, tender and demanding, when the omega's arms were wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. 

Nie Huaisang had sacrificed his pride for less pleasant purposes before. He didn't mind doing it again, for one last tryst with the man he shouldn't have loved.

One of Nie Huaisang's hands grabbed the back of Lan Xichen's neck. This made him gasp, and gave Nie Huaisang the chance to deepen the kiss, licking into that willing mouth. Then, with his free hand he started pulling on the ties of Lan Xichen's clothes, eager to undress his lover. 

Under layers and layers of pale silk, delicate skin became revealed. Nie Huaisang's fingers lazily danced over his lover's collarbone, over a firm chest, taking a moment to play with a nipple, just for the joy of seeing Lan Xichen's lips part for a soft gasp. His chest was still all muscle, but it would probably soon start to soften and prepare for the child’s arrival. The thought sent heat coursing through Nie Huaisang’s groin, for which he cursed himself. By the time such changes started appearing, everything would be over between them, Lan Xichen would certainly have married whatever lucky idiot had managed to breed him.

Enraged by that idea, Nie Huaisang tore off the rest of the omega’s robes, letting precious silk pool around them and adding to the mess of the half built nest. When Lan Xichen was left in nothing but pants, Nie Huaisang roughly pushed him down against the nearest pile of pillows.

Lan Xichen went down willingly, though could have resisted if he wanted. He was the stronger between them, and by far, but when they were alone he liked to pretend Nie Huaisang could push him around, to play the part of a delicate and submissive omega. Another game between them, another thing they didn’t talk about, and Nie Huaisang to this day didn't know if Lan Xichen did it for his own pleasure, or out of pity for his weak lover.

It had to be at least partly for pleasure, with the way Lan Xichen gasped when Nie Huaisang, having pulled down his pants pushed a finger into him to find him slick with arousal already.

“Zewu-Jun, how shameful of you to get in such a state while nesting,” Nie Huaisang teased, pressing in a second finger already, while his other hand pressed on Lan Xichen' s shoulder, pinning him against the side of his nest.

Lan Xichen writhed weakly, as if trying to escape but unable to.

“A-Sang don’t, ah, don’t call me that,” he complained, gasping when his lover’s fingers found the right places to tease. “It’s not…”

“Then what should I call you?” Nie Huaisang asked, trying to keep his tone casual even as he added another finger. “Er-ge? Lan-gege? Xichen-ge? A-Huan, perhaps?”

Lan Xichen, whose eyes had closed upon that most welcome assault, opened them again and whined at that last suggestion. Even though they had been doing this for some years now, Nie Huaisang had never really dared to use his lover’s personal name, fearing it would have been too intimate for the sort of relationship they had. Now though, if he was to lose all this, there was little point in not taking everything he could before it was over.

“You’re so wet, A-Huan,” he accused, removing his fingers from his lover’s hole and carelessly wiping them against the side of his naked thigh. “Isn’t it against your sect’s rules to be unrestrained?”

Lan Xichen pouted at feeling himself empty again, and shivered at Nie Huaisang’s words. As if suddenly remembering something, he quickly sat up in spite of the hand pushing down on his chest, proving that Nie Huaisang was only in control because it was granted to him. Nie Huaisang found it a more potent aphrodisiac than actually having the strength to subdue his lover could have been. He then saw Lan Xichen quickly reach behind his head, saw the white embroidered ribbon he wore be loosened and slide down, saw his lover smile at him with that spark of mischief Lan Xichen only ever showed when they were alone together.

“There, now I’m allowed to be unrestrained,” Lan Xichen said after dropping the ribbon out of the way and carefully laying down on the side of his nest again. “Let’s make the best of this, A-Sang.”

He opened his legs a little wider, shamelessly inviting Nie Huaisang to come enjoy his body. Nie Huaisang, in turn, pretended to ignore him and started undressing himself, taking care to fold everything neatly so it wouldn’t get lost in the luxurious mess of that nest around them. Lan Xichen observed him with hunger at first, which quickly turned to frustration.

“You’re teasing me,” he accused with a slight whine to his voice that made Nie Huaisang want to devour him.

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” Nie Huaisang retorted while fighting with his pants, the last item of clothing on him. “I believe your sect has a rule against undue haste, and against being careless with one’s possessions.”

“Then stop being careless with me,” Lan Xichen ordered.

Nie Huaisang froze, unsure whether to cry or laugh. Once again, he was stunned by how innocently cruel his lover was that day. He really should have put an end to this joke and gone home, leaving Lan Xichen to go get fucked by whatever alpha he’d found himself.

He should have.

He couldn’t.

Instead, Nie Huaisang quickly finished undressing, dropping his pants to the side without even pretending to fold them this time, and came to kneel between Lan Xichen’s legs. The omega smiled up at him, so radiant it hurt.

Without thinking, Nie Huaisang’s hand trailed down his lover’s chest, coming to rest on his stomach. Nothing was showing yet, not even the first signs of softness, though when he probed using spiritual energy, he definitely felt there was something there, a presence too small to have reached consciousness yet. 

The pregnancy wasn’t very far along, three months perhaps, which would place its start rather close to the last time Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had been together. That would fit, of course. Last time, Lan Xichen had needed to leave the Unclean Realm in something of a hurry when his heat had surprised him, forcing him to rush home before it overcame him completely… or so Nie Huaisang had thought at the time. 

Back then, he’d been disappointed that they’d barely managed to fool around at all. He’d been disappointed at himself, also, for still not finding the courage to ask Lan Xichen to stay, heat or not. With himself a beta there was so little risk of unwanted consequences, while surely it would have been more comfortable for Lan Xichen to go through this with a partner for once…

As it turned out, Lan Xichen hadn’t faced the discomfort of his heat alone. He just hadn’t wanted to spend it with Nie Huaisang either.

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang grabbed Lan Xichen's arm, forcing him to turn around. Lan Xichen willingly obeyed and got on his hands and knees, a spark of excitement in his eyes. He gasped when Nie Huaisang pressed into him faster than he normally did. But then, normally he wasn't so angry at the man he… 

The man he didn't want to love, Nie Huaisang thought as he started moving without giving the omega time to adjust. The man he shouldn't have loved. The man who he should have known he'd never get to keep. 

“A-Sang, be gentle,” Lan Xichen begged, before moaning when Nie Huaisang, instead, fucked him harder. 

The beta soon fell into a punishing rhythm, skin slapping against skin. The only sounds leaving Nie Huaisang’s mouth were grunts, while Lan Xichen alternated between begging to be treated gently or more roughly, as if unable to make up his mind. 

When Lan Xichen's pleasure cries became louder, his body tighter, Nie Huaisang found it in him to fuck even harder into that too willing body, until at last Lan Xichen tensed under him, coming undone with a silent gasp. Nie Huaisang kept going, enjoying that slick tightness for a few thrusts more until he felt he could hold on no longer. 

Pressing inside as far as he could go, Nie Huaisang bent down and bit as hard as he could onto Lan Xichen while spilling his seed.

It was a vain effort, of course. Still, when Nie Huaisang’s senses returned to him and he saw the imprint of his teeth on the side of Lan Xichen's neck, almost deep enough to have broken the skin, he felt a twisted satisfaction. The mark would fade in a few days, a few hours even if Lan Xichen expended some energy to get rid of it. But now Nie Huaisang knew what the man he didn't want to love would have looked, had he been able to mark him and keep him. 

A memory he would surely cherish in the future, when nothing else remained. 

Nie Huaisang pulled out and sat up on his haunches, the better to look at Lan Xichen lying under him, beautiful in his contentment, pale skin decorated by the first signs of future bruises. If he hadn't just come, the sight of such perfection on display for him would have made him hard. Even like that he felt some new desire run through him. 

Lan Xichen cracked open one eye. He smiled, turned around to rest his back against the now crumbling side of his nest, and opened his arms in a silent invitation. One that Nie Huaisang should have refused, the same as he should have refused all the rest. One he took, as he had taken all the rest. 

It was comfortable to lay like this, his head on Lan Xichen's chest, cuddled against one side of that hateful nest. Nie Huaisang could have fallen asleep like this, sated and warm, with Lan Xichen's long fingers lazily tracing senseless patterns on his back. 

Life didn't get better than this, and Nie Huaisang was selfish enough to take what wasn't his to enjoy. 

"I was thinking what we should do, since both our sects need an heir," Lan Xichen said, just as Nie Huaisang was abput to fall asleep. "If it's a girl, let's raise it like a Nie. Your sect is more reasonable about letting women rule, so it'd be… you don't like that?" 

Nie Huaisang shook his head, his body suddenly so tense he could barely breathe, let alone speak. 

That child was his? 

He would have assumed… betas weren't very fertile, and everyone said they had better chances of conceiving with a woman of any sort than a male omega. Nie Huaisang had made his peace with that, knowing he and Lan Xichen wouldn't… That there would only ever be a very low chance of...

But a low chance was still a chance. 

"It's fine if you'd rather see a boy inherit Qinghe Nie as well," Lan Xichen said, his hand turned soothing on Nie Huaisang's back. "In that case if it's a girl, we'll get to spoil her." 

"I don't mind seeing our daughter rule the Unclean Realm," Nie Huaisang weakly replied, still terrified he'd misunderstood somehow, that Lan Xichen had just been carelessly cruel again, that… 

But Lan Xichen kissed the top of his head with affection, and took to running his fingers through Nie Huaisang’s hair. 

"We'll see when the baby is there," Lan Xichen concluded. "I… you want this too, don't you?" he asked, suddenly sounding worried. "We never really spoke about… if you don't want to be involved, I'll… of course I won't force you. I can raise it alone if you're not interested."

Nie Huaisang rose on his elbows to look at the man he loved, who carried his child, and was shocked to find Lan Xichen looking truly worried. As if there were anyone in the world who wouldn't give everything to be in Nie Huaisang’s place. As if Nie Huaisang himself hadn't been ready to sacrifice any dignity he had left for what he thought were scraps of Lan Xichen’s attention. 

"We're raising our child together," Nie Huaisang firmly stated. "I'll claim it if you let me, I'll marry you if you let me. Anything you want from me, just ask and it's yours." 

Lan Xichen smiled brightly at him, happy beyond words. Nie Huaisang found it in him to smile back.

He would just have to get Mo Xuanyu to hurry up with that ritual, so that Jin Guangyao could be taken care of before the birth.

[ijustwant2write]

What’s Wrong With Being Confident?-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @hermoinejeans​)

Tags: @wand3ringr0s3​​ @amirahiddleston​ @bloodorangemoonlight​ 

Requested by anonymous: ‘Fred Weasley x Chubby!Reader?? 🥺💖😭’

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Negative talk about weight/shape/bodies, insecurities, bullying, swearing, fluff, body positivity

(A/N: Chloe is a made up character)

                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Found your dress for the Yule Ball yet?” my friend asked as we made our way to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Yes! My mum got it delivered to me. I’ll try it on later and show you, it’s actually stunning!” I beamed.

“Yay! Shall we try out hairstyles too?”

“Oh yes! That’s such a good idea!”

We sat on the benches, starting to talk to our other friends about the same topic. We were all giddy about it, I had been the only one asked out so far, but that’s because it was inevitable that I was going to go with my boyfriend. It was still early, we had a while before the ball was here, the girls had time (even though they were stressing). We started other conversations as we ate, but soon came back to the topic of dates for the Yule Ball.

“(Y/N), you’re so lucky that you have Fred.”

“Yeah, I am.” I blushed.“He’s been secretly cute about the whole thing. He’s even going to try and get a bow tie the same colour as my dress!”

“A dress that you won’t be able to fit into.” someone mumbled loud enough behind me.

I rolled my eyes, turning around to see who it was. Oh, of course it was Chloe. A fellow student in the same year as me, a Ravenclaw, who tormented me since our first class together. She was very offended by my appearance, always wanting to make a comment. Like any other teenager, I used to be very conscious about how I looked, and that I was slightly...bigger than the other girls. But when I realised that how I looked didn’t effect finding friends or doing well in school, I forgot about it. I liked how I looked, my friends always hyped me up, and I had a gorgeous, caring (if not cheeky) boyfriend; Fred had admitted that my confidence was very attractive to him. And that pissed off Chloe to no end, especially after she had pined after him for so long. 

“As usual Chloe, if have something to say about me, say it to my face.”

She flipped her hair as she faced me, her upper lip curled up.“I’m just stating the truth.”

“No, you’re being a bully for no reason.”

“A bully? What are we, five?”

“Your mentality would say so, yes.”

She scoffed.“Stop living in your fantasy world (Y/N). I saw you open that dress when it got delivered, you’re delusional if you think that would fit you.”

“Funnily enough Chloe, it was made to measure.”

“Might want to measure again, especially if you keep eating like that everyday.”

I glanced at my plate. It really didn’t have that much on it.“What do you gain from this? I’m sorry if this somehow makes you feel better about yourself.”

“What? Don’t be sorry! I...I do it because...because-”

“That’s what I thought, have a nice dinner Chloe.”

Swiveling back round, my friends stifled their giggles. They had always stood up for me, but also knew that I was able to fight my own battles. It didn’t hurt so much anymore, it was more annoying. I just knew every time someone had something nice to say to me, or even if I looked like I had a stride in my step, Chloe would somehow appear and try to bring me down. Wasn’t it exhausting being mean to people day in and out? Just let people be and get on with your life. 

“Heard you talking about a certain dress?” Fred suddenly said behind me as I left the Great Hall after dinner.

I jumped, giggling as he grabbed my hand to walk with me.“Eavesdropping on me now?”

“Nah, you’ve all got big gobs.”

I gasped, but laughed along with him.

“When can I see it?”

“On the day of the ball.”

He whined.“Why?”

“Because I want it to be a surprise.”

“But you’ll still look just as beautiful in it on the day, so you could still show me!”

“Fred Weasley, you may be a smooth talker and an outrageous flirt, but it won’t work on me.”

“Oh really?” he smirked, pulling me into him by my robes, before hiding us behind a column from anyone who could walk by. Luckily, the corridors were empty this way, everyone was headed in opposite directions.

Giggling together, he pushed his body close to mine, leaning down to kiss me. His hands slipped under my robe and around my waist, my hands cupping his face. Although we were in a lot of classes together, and we studied together as much as possible, we hadn’t had a lot of quality time together. If a professor saw, of course we would get a slight telling off, but we didn’t care in that moment. Nothing could interrupt the passion...until she came along again.

Chloe scoffed.“We get it, he’s not made up.”

We broke apart, both of our faces showing frustration. Fred whispered to me,“Don’t retaliate, just ignore her.”

He kissed me again, but if didn’t seem that she was leaving. Two of her friends had began walking away, obviously feeling awkward that we were continuing with our make-out. Gently pushing Fred away, I checked over his shoulder, sensing that she was still there.

“You get off on this sort of thing?” I snapped. 

“(Y/N)...” Fred tried to stop a fight breaking out.

“Just think it’s funny that you show off all this PDA to ensure everyone knows about your boyfriend.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Come on Chlo, let’s just leave them.” a friend of hers tried to convince her.

“Maybe we’re doing this because we love each other? That’s what couples do, Chloe, not that I’d expect you to understand.”

Fred sighed.“OK (Y/N), let’s not-”

“No, don’t tell me to stop! She’s been doing this to me since we started at Hogwarts, I’m allowed to jab back at her!”

“Alright!” he defended himself.

“Chloe, I don’t want to deal with you right now. I’m trying to spend time with Fred.”

She was furious, nostrils flaring, eyebrows furrowed together, lips slightly parted as she thought of her next quip. Nothing came out, and her friends called her one last time, tugging on her sleeve to get her to move. Chloe snatched away her arm, storming away, her friends scurrying after. 

“I’m sorry.” I said to Fred.“I just...I ignore her all the time, you know that. She’s so weird!”

“I know.” he pecked me on the lips.“But you’ve always been able to brush it off, what happened then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because we’re coming to our last years and it’s never stopped. It doesn’t upset me, but it’s almost like she’s nagging now. Like, just move on with your life, we probably won’t ever see each other again once we finish school.”

“Well, just focus on that then. You stand above it, like you always do, keep doing amazing in classes, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

I grinned, squeezing his hands.“And we’ll do all the things we said we’d do when we leave?” 

He chuckled.“Of course.”

It was the night of the ball, and so much had happened since my confrontation with Chloe. The first task had passed (whoever thought about sending school children into the fiery trap of a dragon, whilst trying to retrieve a dragon egg was a psycho), meaning everyone was now focused on the Yule Ball, and not their friends potentially dying. 

In our dorms, us girls all got ready together, constantly laughing and asking each other for opinions on hair, makeup and jewellery. Everyone ‘awed’ at each other once we were all dressed and ready, heading to the ball to meet our dates. As we laughed over hoe the boys had looked at the dance rehearsal, we realised we were almost there. I suddenly became nervous. Fred had never seen me dressed up like this. I loved how I looked, but I hoped that it wasn’t too much, like I had tried too hard, or that I didn’t look like myself.

There he was, stood in his suit, a stupid grin on his face. I smiled widely, heart melting at how handsome he looked. George tapped him on the shoulder, making him turn around to properly face me, where his mouth dropped open. I ducked my head in embarrassment, becoming all shy until I realised he was making his way towards me. His mouth stayed open as he slowly walked around me.

“Fred!” I nervously laughed.

“You look...you look stunning (Y/N). I...I don’t know what else to say, you look amazing!” he seemed genuinely shocked. 

“Thank you babe. You look so handsome, you should wear suits more often!” I exclaimed.

“I will not stop complimenting you all night.”

“You’re going to make me blush, I’ll look like a tomato.”

“A cute tomato. Come on, let’s show this lot how this stupid dance is done.”

As suspected, I had a phenomenal time at the ball. Fred kept on waltzing around with me, twirling me at any possible moment, and I was able to dance with my friends (and by dance, I mean jump up and down to the music whilst screaming the words). I received compliments from my boyfriend, friends and classmates, of course, giving them back. It was a great way to let off some steam, to escape school life for a night. Until I spotted Chloe sitting by herself.

I sighed to myself, wondering whether to approach her. A cruel part of me enjoyed seeing her like that, perhaps she was being put in her place. However, I knew I shouldn’t be thinking like that, it would only make me sink down to her level. Excusing myself from the group, I could feel them watching as I walked towards her. Chloe glanced up at me, angling her body away from me as she realised what was about to happen.

“Having your chance of jabbing me again?” she huffed as I stopped in front of her. 

I shook my head.“No, I had my moment before. I was just...I was just wondering what you’re doing over here by yourself.”

“Like you care. You’re just going to get the gossip and make fun of me to everyone else.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.“Not nice, is it?”

She rolled her eyes.“No, I guess not.”

“So...what happened?”

“I have a date. But he’s too busy head banging with his friends. Before that, he was still with them talking non-stop about their next quidditch match. I had one dance with him. That’s it.”

“What about your friends?”

“They’re with their dates. I felt like I was third wheeling without my date being there.”

“Well,” I glanced back to my friends,“I know we’ve never seen eye to eye, but do you want to hang with us?”

“Is this a prank that you and Fred came up with?”

“No. I’m just being nice. i don’t know why.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I just....I just want us to stop this. I want you to stop commenting on my appearance or what I’m doing. One, it’s a form of bullying, and two, it’s just annoying at this point.”

“Hey, (Y/N), you OK?” Fred asked as he stood beside me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I smiled at him.“I was just about to ask Chloe here why she’s tormented me all these years.”

“You know why.” she huffed.

“I’ve only been dating Fred for the last two years. It can’t just be that because you’ve been like this since our first year.”

“I was a bitch, alright? I am a bitch, I know. I dunno, you were an easy target, and then when you became confident, it pissed me off. Everyone still liked you despite how you looked. Then you got a boyfriend before I did and I found it embarrassing.”

Fred walked away, and I found that confusing, but didn’t question it; I was too busy with Chloe.“I think you’ve wasted all these years putting too much energy into being negative and mean. I’m happy how I am. It’s great being this confident. I have a group of amazing friends, the best boyfriend in the whole world and I’m doing good at school. The fact that I love myself is an added bonus, because we shouldn’t be so focused on how we look. Wow, that felt good to say.”

And just like that, Fred was back, along with Chloe’s date.“What have you got to say mate?”

He nudged him forward.“I’m sorry that I left you Chloe. You want to dance?”

A small smile appeared on her face (couldn’t say the same for her date). She took his hand and they quickly left, leaving Fred and I alone again.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want her hanging with us.” Fred explained.

“That’s OK. I said what I wanted to say.”

He slipped an arm round my waist, kissing me on the forehead.“So? Did she apologise?”

“Of course not. But I let her know that I was extremely happy with my life and she couldn’t do anything to bring me down.”

“That’s my girl. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Let’s go dance again. I want to see you spinning around in that dress all through the night.”

[kpopmakesmequestionmylifechoices]

Kingdom Round 3: "Plagiarism", rigged voting and fanwars.

[Disclaimer: It is possible that for fans of certain groups I'll come off as offensive. I like each of the groups, I possess albums of TBZ, SF9 & SKZ, and I watched HOURS of content/debut programs of ALL the participating groups. Nevertheless, I will ALWAYS say my honest opinion. If you want to fight me, you're ofc allowed to do so but I hope you're all mature enough to not feel offended by opinions.]

Act 1: Tbz, where do your ideas come from?

So what I've noticed is that there's a massive difference between tbz behind the scenes and other groups'. Not only in this episode. So far, tbz simply DID NOT show how they create ideas, stages, how they practice. They picked a song, fooled around, and then met up with RTK members. It was cute sure, but it had NOTHING to do with the stage. The other groups showed practice scenes, showed their ideation process, showed who taught them and how. The boyz didn't. No practice, no ideation. Only song choice. We didn't see them practicing the choreo, we didn't see how they even got the idea for this stage. Their behind the scenes footage sadly has NOTHING to do with their performance. I really wish we could see them practicing and coming up with ideas.

Another big problem I see with this, is that they literally don't explain where their ideas come from. Now for people who know Game of Thrones (GoT hereafter), it probably appears rather obvious that the previous and also this stage was inspired by GoT, right? The white walkers? Ice and fire? The throne? The freaking red wedding??? I can't be the only one who sees a connection between their stages and GoT. ATEEZ said they were inspired by Pirates of the Carribbean. SF9 said they were inspired by film noir and showed how they worked with an actor on their storyline. iKON explained how they associate inception with dreams and put together their ideas. But TBZ didn't freaking talk about any of this. Either it was never recorded, or it never was aired. In any way, it's extremely suspicious in my eyes. Moreover it's just pretty shit to not say where your idea comes from. Especially not when you even name your stage after the iconic red wedding... Now IF they were NOT inspired by GoT, then it would be some... extremely huge coincidences... especially the stage title is just a bit too much tbh. But more to that stage later.

Edit: It came to my knowledge that according to deobis, Cre.Ker will post the content after Kingdom on tbz social media. Whoever took that decision needs to be fired tbh. If the content will be released, I'll link to it and add some few words to it.

Act 2: The good, the bad, and ... All hail king Juyeon?

Let's talk about the performances now.

SF9: What I dislike is the fact that as I stated in my previous Kingdom post, they are forced to do such dramatic musical/movie stages to even be recognized as part of the show. Moreover, I found it weird and unfitting that they held guns during the group dance parts, to me it seemed a bit off. Also, at times, their energy level seemed a bit low.

What I liked is that even tho it was a MASSIVE set, the performance still was extremely easy to understand and follow. They all looked insanely good tho, SF9 simply is mature and manly. I liked the concept, it was fresh because it for once had no fantasy vibe but actual criminal mafia energy. My favourite parts were Jaeyoon's fighting scenes because they were very well choreographed. Altogether, I really enjoyed it and also found it interesting how they referred to the Boyz crown scenes on RTK.

The Boyz: In my eyes, this is already the second GoT inspired concept they did. Not a fan of this. Moreover, I'm a bit pissed that it looks as if they are selling all that as their own ideas. As I said before, I believe this is GoT inspired, the name at least definitely was - but it's never said that the inspiration comes from there, because we literally have no information about where their ideas come from and if it's even their own ideas. To me it has the bitter aftertaste of wanting to hide sth the viewers aren't supposed to see. But this is not tbz fault but the fault of whoever writes/directs/edits their footage.

With the title of the stage given, I actually thought I'd see a wedding. But what I've seen was a woman in a bird cage. And then many more women. I failed to see what this all had to do with a wedding, and I moreover failed to see the connection to "THE" red wedding. And I failed to understand the plot once again, and because they didn't explain it beforehand, I'll never understand it.

What I liked is that the performance was way less dramatic than it was ever before. It didn't seem like a stunt show anymore, it didn't seem overdramatic anymore. It was easier to focus on the performance. Sadly, I noticed that this "downgraded" (aka slow-paced and less dramatic) stage was unfortunately underwhelming in comparison with what they did before - which was sth I predicted from beginning on. At some point you can't go bigger anymore, and if you tone it down it'll automatically seem underwhelming.

Edit: It's sad that they have this pressure to outperform themselves because they've won RTK. But honestly, it was clear that the winner would have this pressure on them. I don't see why I would pity them for this, after all, each of the groups feel pressured anyways and I rather feel sorry for ALL groups together because this whole ranking/competition thing is just unnecessarily stressful. But once again, I don't understand why you all blame MNET for this. Don't forget that the companies have contracts with MNET and knew that shit would go down. If you blame any bigger instances, then please also the companies who put their idols on the show. It's not like they got forced to make their groups participate.

My biggest criticism this time however is the fact that they give the most screentime to Juyeon (and Sunwoo because of the rap parts), and the rest of the members barely appear, or basically aren't shown at all. I already felt before that there was a strong focus on Juyeon, but now it's srly showing very clearly. I really like Juyeon, but I don't find it fair. I think that doesn't do justice to the other members, which deserve screentime as well. In conclusion, tbz on kingdom is an extreme mess in my eyes, with lots of communication- and management flaws.

iKON: I belong to the group of people who heavily prefers THANXX over inception, so I was a bit sceptical about the song choice. They really made a YG version out of this tho, I was pretty impressed. The stage concept was pretty nice, iKON surely knows how to use light. Now the stage seemed very inspired by Inception (the movie) which makes a lot of sense - but wasn't communicated either. Just mentioning this because I critisized tbz earlier, so I think the same applies here to some degree. I didn't recognize the song anymore tho but I found it pretty refreshing. In my eyes they did the best so far in making another group's song their own. This could have been an iKON song for sure. As always, a fun stage.

My personal ranking will follow after the other stages.

Act 3: About cheating and faking.

The Voting looks as follows:

Views: 1. SKZ 2. iKON 3. ATEEZ 4. BTOB 5. TBZ 6. SF9

Online Voting: 1. SKZ 2. SF9 3. iKON 4. BTOB 5. ATEEZ 6. TBZ

Btw if anyone knows the overall voting, please comment or send a message, because I somehow missed it?

I said it before, and I say it again, this entire voting is rigged and I totally don't care about it anymore at this point because it's absolutely not trustable. Experts didn't know about the budget differences, who even are the experts, why did SF9 get zero on-site votes, and then ofc the fans who created 50 accounts to vote...this voting is a joke. What I can totally not understand is how ATEEZ and TBZ can rank last for online voting. Sth seems off here to me, especially the fact that SF9 ranks last in views but ranks 2nd in votes? I'm sorry to say this but I think that's the result of the ZZZ fanwar. My assumption is that there must be a big mass of people who purposely voted NOT for TBZ & ATEEZ, and my guess is - no offence - that those were stays. In accordance with the fanwar, they didn't give their 2 other votes to the other ZZZ groups but to whatever other group. Or in general the ZZZ fandoms purposely not voting for each other. That would explain extremely well why SF9 could suddenly rank 2nd. I'm tired of this voting, of fanwars and all this drama and I decided to not care about the official voting anymore.

If you got to this point, I wanna let you know that I feel very blessed that you made it through this long post hahaha. Thanks! And for the next week, I expect BIG THINGS. I'm the most excited for BTOB. Them covering back door is the most absurd thing I've imagined for a long time hahahaha. But Eunkwang with tattoos really is a good sight, isn't it ;)?

[bloodbenderz]

humaniterations (dot) net/2014/10/13/an-anarchist-perspective-on-the-red-lotus/ this article from oct 2014 is very dense — truly, a lot to unpack here, but I feel like you would find this piece interesting. I would love it if you shared your thoughts on the points that stood out to you, whether you agree or disagree. you obv don’t have to respond to it tho, but I’m sending it as an ask jic you feel like penning (and sharing) a magnificent essay, as is your wont 💕

article

i know this took me forever 2 answer SORRY but i just checked off all the things on my to do list for the first time in days today so. Essay incoming ladies!

ok im SO glad u sent me this bc it’s so so good. it’s a genuinely thoughtful criticism of the politics in legend of korra (altho i think its sometimes a little mean to korra unnecessarily like there’s no reason to call her a “petulant brat” or say that she throws tantrums but i do understand their point about her being an immature and reactionary hero, which i’ll get back to) and i think the author has a good balance between acknowledging like Yeah the lok writers were american liberals and wrote their show accordingly and Also writing a thorough analysis of lok’s politics that felt relevant and interesting without throwing their hands up and saying this is all useless liberal bullshit (which i will admit that i tend to do).

this article essentially argues that the red lotus antagonists of s3 were right. And that’s not an uncommon opinion i think but this gives it serious weight. Like, everything that zaheer’s gang did was, in context, fully understandable. of course the red lotus would be invested in making sure that the physically and spiritually and politically most powerful person in the world ISNT raised by world leaders and a secret society of elites that’s completely unaccountable to the people! of course the red lotus wants to bring down tyrannical governments and allow communities to form and self govern organically! and the writers dismiss all of that out of hand by 1. consistently framing the red lotus as insane and murderous (korra never actually gives zaheer’s ideas a chance or truly considers integrating them into her own approach) 2. representing the death of the earth queen as not just something that’s not necessarily popular (what was with mako’s bootlicker grandma, i’d love to know) but as something that causes unbelievable violence and chaos in ba sing se (which, like, a lot of history and research will tell you that people in disasters tend towards prosocial behaviors). so the way the story frames each of these characters and ideologies is fascinating because like. if you wanted to write season 3 of legend of korra with zaheer as the protagonist and korra as the antagonist, you wouldn’t actually have to change the sequence of events at all, really. these writers in particular and liberal writers in general LOVE writing morally-gray-but-ultimately-sympathetic characters (like, almost EVERY SINGLE fire nation character in the first series, who were full on violent colonizers but all to a degree were rehabilitated in the eyes of the viewer) but instead of framing the red lotus as good people who are devoted to justice and freedom and sometimes behave cruelly to get where theyre trying to go, they frame them as psychopaths and murderers who have good intentions don’t really understand how to make the world a better place.

and the interesting thing about all this, about the fact that the red lotus acted in most cases exactly as it should have in context and the only reason its relegated to villain status is bc the show is written by liberals, is that the red lotus actually points out really glaring sociopolitical issues in universe! like, watching the show, u think well why the fuck HASN’T korra done anything about the earth queen oppressing her subjects? why DOESN’T korra do anything about the worse than useless republic president? why the hell are so many people living in poverty while our mains live cushy well fed lives? how come earth kingdom land only seems to belong to various monarchs and settler colonists, instead of the people who are actually indigenous to it? the show does not want to answer these questions, because american liberal capitalism literally survives on the reality of oppressive governments and worse than useless presidents and people living in poverty while the middle/upper class eats and indigenous land being stolen. if the show were to answer these questions honestly, the answer would be that the status quo in real life (and the one on the show that mirrors real life) Has To Change.

So they avoid answering these questions honestly in order for the thesis statement to be that the status quo is good. and the only way for the show to escape answering these questions is for them to individualize all these broad social problems down into Good people and Bad people. so while we have obvious bad ones like the earth queen we also have all these capitalists and monarchs and politicians who are actually very nice and lovely people who would never hurt anyone! which is just such an absurd take and it’s liberal propaganda at its best. holding a position of incredible political/economic power in an unjust society is inherently unethical and maintaining that position of power requires violence against the people you have power over. which is literally social justice 101. but there’s literally no normal, average, not-politically-powerful person on the show. so when leftist anarchism is presented and says that destroying systems that enforce extreme power differentials is the only way to bring peace and freedom to all, the show has already set us up to think, hey, fuck you, top cop lin beifong and ford motor ceo asami sato are good people and good people like them exist! and all we have to do to move forward and progress as a society is to make sure we have enough good individuals in enough powerful positions (like zuko as the fire lord ending the war, or wu as the earth king ending the monarchy)! which is of course complete fiction. liberal reform doesn’t work. but by pretending that it could work by saying that the SYSTEM isnt rotten it’s just that the people running it suck and we just need to replace those people, it automatically delegitimizes any radical movements that actually seek to change things.

and that’s the most interesting thing about this article to me is that it posits that the avatar...might actually be a negative presence in the world. the avatar is the exact same thing: it’s a position of immense political and physical power bestowed completely randomly, and depending on the moral character and various actions of who fills that position at any given time, millions of people will or won’t suffer. like kyoshi, who created the fascist dai li, like roku, who refused to remove a genocidal dictator from power, like aang, who facilitated the establishment of a settler colonial state on earth kingdom land. like korra! she’s an incredibly immature avatar and a generally reactionary lead. i’ve talked about this at length before but she never actually gets in touch with the needs of the people. she’s constantly running in elite circles, exposed only to the needs and squabbles of the upper class! how the hell is she supposed to understand the complexities of oppression and privilege when she was raised by a chess club with inordinate amounts of power and associates almost exclusively with politicians and billionaires?? from day 1 we see that she tends to see things in very black and white ways which is FINE if you’re a privileged 17 yr old girl seeing the world for the first time but NOT FINE if you’re the single most powerful person in the world! Yeah, korra thinks the world is probably mostly fine and just needs a little whipping into shape every couple years, because all she has ever known is a mostly fine world! in s1 when mako mentions that he as a homeless impoverished teenager worked for a gang (which is. Not weird. Impoverished people of every background are ALWAYS more likely to resort to socially unacceptable ways of making money) korra is like “you guys are criminals?????!!!!!” she was raised in perfect luxury by a conservative institution and just never developed beyond that. So sure, if the red lotus raised her anarchist, probably a lot would’ve been different/better, but....they didn’t. and korra ended up being a reactionary and conservative avatar who protected monarchs and colonialist politicians. The avatar as a position is completely subject to the whims of whoever is currently the avatar. and not only does that suck for everyone who is not the avatar, not only is it totally unfair to whatever kid who grows up knowing the fate of the world is squarely on their shoulders, but it as a concept is a highly individualist product of the authors’ own western liberal ideas of progress! the idea that one good leader can fix the world (or should even try) based on their own inherent superiority to everyone else is unbelievably flawed and ignores the fact that all real progress is brought about as a result of COMMUNITY work, as a result of normal people working for themselves and their neighbors!

the broader analysis of bending was really interesting to me too, but im honestly not sure i Totally agree with it. the article pretty much accepts the show’s assertion that bending is a privilege (and frankly backs it up much better than the original show did, but whatever), and i don’t think that’s NECESSARILY untrue since it is, like, a physical advantage (the author compares it to, for example, the fact that some people are born athletically gifted and others are born with extreme physical limitations), but i DO think that it discounts the in universe racialization of bending. in any sequel to atla that made sense, bending as a race making fact would have been explored ALONGSIDE the physical advantages it bestows on people. colonialism and its aftermath is generally ignored in this article which is its major weakness i think, especially in conjunction with bending. you can bring up the ideas the author did about individual vs community oriented progress in the avatar universe while safely ignoring the colonialism, but you can’t not bring up race and colonialism when you discuss bending. especially once you get to thinking about how water/earth/airbenders were imprisoned and killed specifically because bending was a physical advantage, and that physical advantage was something that would have given colonized populations a means of resistance and that the fire nation wanted to keep to itself.

i think that’s the best lens thru which to analyze bending tbh! like in the avatar universe bending is a tool that different ethnic groups tend to use in different ways. at its best, bending actually doesn’t represent social power differences (despite representing a physical power difference) because it’s used to represent/maintain community solidarity. like, take the water tribe. katara being the last waterbender, in some way, makes her the last of a part of swt CULTURE. the implication is that when there were a lot of waterbenders in the south, they dedicated their talents to building community and helping their neighbors, because this was something incredibly culturally important and important to the water tribe as a community. the swt as a COLLECTIVE values bending for what it can do for the entire tribe, which counts for basically every other talent a person can have (strength, creativity, etc). the fire nation, by contrast, distorts the community value of bending by racializing it: anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is inherently NOT fire nation (and therefore inherently inferior) and, because of the physical power that bending confers, anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is a threat to fire nation hegemony. and in THAT framework of bending, it’s something that intrinsically assigns worth and reifies race in a way that’s conveniently beneficial to the oppressor.

it IS worth talking about how using Element as a way to categorize people reifies nations, borders, and race in a way that is VERY characteristic of white american liberals. i tried to be conscious of that (and the way that elements/bending can act in DIFFERENT ways, depending on cultural context) but i think it’s pretty clear that the writers did intend for element to unequivocally signify nation (and, by extension, race), which is part of why they screwed up mixed families so bad in lok. when they’ve locked themselves into this idea that element=nation=race, they end up with sets of siblings like mako and bolin or kya tenzin and bumi, who all “take” after only one parent based on the element that they bend. which is just completely stupid but very indicative of how the writers actually INTENDED element/bending to be a race making process. and its both fucked up and interesting that the writers display the same framework of race analysis that the canonical antagonists of atla do.

anyway that’s a few thoughts! thank u again for sending the article i really loved it and i had a lot of fun writing this <3

[astaroth1357]

(Yes, I still have more requests but I need a creativity break. This has been in my drafts for a while so I share it with you now)

How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend

Have Some Sympathy for the Devil...

Demons are amoral beings by nature. This lack of natural empathy and ethical restraint can make them appear to be heartless, but nothing is farther from the truth. In fact, your beloved hellspawn can feel happiness and love just as well as you can but that also means they can experience sadness too... When this happens it’s only natural to want to cajole your lover back to high spirits, but this task can be easier said than done. For cases when your demon has taken up sorrow, our guide How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend is here to help! This volume will offer you some of the best advice on the market for how to bring your demon back to happiness as any lover would want to do. With our help, you should see that frown lift right off your partner’s face just like when they torment the beings left for eternal damnation, guaranteed!

Lucifer

Lucifer will not want to make his sorrow known to you at first. He prefers to present an image of power and composure which in his mind goes against the vulnerability sadness can bring. You will have to be mindful and watch out for changes in his behavior.

If he is: avoiding your presence, working even more than usual, being stricter on others, emotionally distant, isolating himself, or listening to an inordinate amount of classical music it may be time to intervene.

Engage Lucifer on this only when he is alone. This won’t be too difficult as he will likely be avoiding people anyway.

Approaching Lucifer on a matter this sensitive should be done with caution and great care. You have very little room for error. If you make a gaff or try to speak to him in a way he deems belittling, then he may shut you out further and then you’re back at square one.

Do you best to convey concern, compassion, and sincerity. In your mind you should not be speaking to the Avatar of Pride right now. You should be approaching someone very dear to you whom you can tell is hurting.

If Lucifer is not ready to speak, he will try to console you but give you no concrete answers for his behavior. This is normal, and a tad frustrating, but not a complete shutdown. You can wait for a time (at least overnight) and then try again.

Do not interrogate him. He may not feel comfortable divulging why he's upset just yet. Simply tell him what you’ve noticed about his behavior and express concern.

When Lucifer is finally ready to tell you what has him so gloomy, take care to listen intently. He may only admit this once. 

Once the information is out in the open, assess what can be done and what advice you can offer. Lucifer isn’t one to speak idly about his problems, he will likely be seeking some kind of actionable guidance more than a willing ear. Offer all suggestions empathetically, with the understanding that he values your opinion even if he doesn't take your advise.

A new plan of action will likely soothe him the most, but if he still appears to be troubled after your discussion you can offer him further relaxation options: tea, a hot bath, more classical music, pleasant conversation, etc. 

Now that he’s let you in, he shouldn’t begrudge your presence anymore so remain with him for as long as you feel is necessary. To some extent, Lucifer needs solitude to sort out his thoughts but he’s not the best at doing the same for his emotions. Remind him, gently, that some battles take two to win.

Mammon

If Mammon is upset, you’re probably going to know about it. Where Lucifer is reserved and secretive, Mammon is overt and transparent. He may not mean to be but it is what it is. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Signs that Mammon may be in distress include: avoidance to particular topics, unconvincing denial, crying, clinginess, impulsivity, and, in extremes, desperation.

If Mammon is upset he will naturally gravitate to you for comfort. This certainly makes your task easier so long as you pick up on the signs quickly.

Physical closeness will do wonders for easing his mood. If you’re alone, I’d suggest holding him in some way but doing so in public may make him too embarrassed to actually enjoy your comfort. If you’re with others, allow him to hold you.

Get him talking. It won’t be very difficult, so just let him air out what the problem is. He may just need to complain about a bad day or some unfair treatment and that’s totally fine. Offer him a sympathetic ear.

After he’s done speaking, assess where his mood is now. If he still seems particularly gloomy, it may be the time to deploy other measures to bring him back to happiness.

Affection and humor are the best methods to use when dealing with a sad Mammon. Make a joke at the expense of whoever/whatever is troubling him then take the time to remind him of something positive about himself or your bond. He won’t accept these compliments verbally (but he won’t want you to stop them either).

If even this is not enough (and you’re feeling generous), you can offer to take him shopping or out to eat on your expense. Be warned that he will NEVER refuse this offer and you best have the funds to cover his (immense) expenses. Grimm can’t buy you happiness, but if you’re Mammon it comes very, very close.

Leviathan

Chances are if Levi is sad it’s due to an insecurity of some kind nagging at him. Like Mammon, he generally won’t be very subtle about it.

Look for these signs: melancholy, self-deprecation, envious statements, the phrase “It’s not fair!,” increased anime/game usage, crying, loss of appetite, lack of sleep, increased possessiveness.

Leviathan will periodically go through moods of self-doubt that will cause him to deflate and draw inward. He will not be able of pull himself out of these recurring regressions so it will be up to you to take notice of when he’s struggling.

If you see signs that he is falling victim to his thoughts, it's best to comfort him some before getting to the bottom of what’s wrong.

Find a way to hold him, if he’s currently playing a game then either wait for him to reach a stopping point or ask politely if he will pause so you can give him some affection. He will likely cling onto you in some way once he’s ready to speak. This is normal behavior, allow him to be as close as he needs and pat his head. He will find this soothing. 

Now gently ask him what has him so upset and assess the situation. Levi may have several insecurities but always remember that he also has many strengths. Downplay his weaknesses and bolster those strengths when necessary.

He may not appear to believe your compliments at first, but this initial denial is normal. DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED. Your words mean more to him than anyone else’s, even his own. There will be a point where he stops attempting to refute your claims, that is a sign that they have reached him.

With his self-esteem bolstered, seal the deal with more affection. Kisses, hugs, and other forms of intimacy are all acceptable as he is in sore need of all options. Monitoring Levi’s emotional wellbeing is not a task for the faint of heart, yet it can still be a rewarding experience to those who wish to love this awkward otaku.

Satan

Satan takes a little after Lucifer in that he won’t be very obvious when he’s upset, but even more so because he’s already very used to acting against what he may be feeling.

Signs that Satan is in need of comfort will be subtle, but not impossible to spot. Look for if: he’s reading at nearly all times or gravitating especially toward one particular topic (this will be in response to a problem he may be facing), irritability, impatience, melancholy, or he’s more quiet/withdrawn than usual.

It is best to approach Satan about this in solitude but you need not be in private.

There is little need to walk on eggshells when asking him about his mood. Simply present your concerns in an honest and compassionate manner. Chances are, he was only hiding his problems so not to trouble you. Being direct in telling him that he doesn’t burden you will likely get him to open up just fine.

Again, like Lucifer, he will probably be seeking a solution to what’s bothering him more than he will need to vent. It’s alright if you don’t have an answer for him right away, if he’s looking for one himself it may not be a very simple problem.

Offer your support and maybe help him brainstorm what sort of steps he can take. Knowing that you’ve noticed his emotional state and are behind him fully will reassure him greatly.

If this problem has him particularly downtrodden, offer him a good book or some sort of cat-related activity/item. This should perk him up considerably because the thing he loves second to only you, is cats.

Asmodeus

If Asmodeus is upset, you WILL know.

He is not subtle in the slightest so finding signs won’t be much of a challenge. If he is: crying, moping, acting uncharacteristically withdrawn, shying away from partying, buying excessive amounts of makeup/clothing/jewelry, etc. then he is likely in need of comfort.

Approach Asmo anywhere that you can find him and ask him why he what's wrong. There isn’t any need to hide his feelings from others, he’s very open about his emotions.

He will probably tell you immediately and may need to vent in the process. Listen patiently to what he has to say with a sympathetic ear. This is a therapeutic release for him and a very important step towards making him feel better.

Once he’s done, offer him physical comfort. A hug or kisses should suffice, but it can be taken farther to whatever level you are most comfortable with. He will appreciate any contact that’s offered regardless.

If time passes and he still seems unusually somber, offer to take him shopping or to go to a spa of some kind. This may not completely rid him of his sadness, but it will help bring him back to higher spirits. 

Asmodeus’ emotions run deep and can be very intense, both in highs and lows. Do not feel inadequate if it takes a few days to fully rid him of a bad mood. Just be there for him as best you can and he will love and be grateful to you for every minute of it, regardless.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is not likely to voice his sadness, but it can still be picked up on pretty quickly if you know what to look for.

Look for these signs: he’s eating less/smaller portions than usual, unfinished plates, general looks of sorrow or unhappiness, exercising more/in excess of what's healthy, and gravitation towards comfort foods.

The first thing to note is there’s a chance that his sadness isn’t his own, but Belphegor’s just carrying over to him due their twin connection. It may be advantageous to check on Belphie before approaching Beel just in case. (For more on cheering up Belphegor, consult the next section).

If Belphie is fine, then go to Beel and gently ask him what’s wrong. Again, there is little need to beat around the bush here. Like Satan, he probably just didn’t want to trouble you.

The chances are that he’s upset about a family matter or he’s having nightmares again. If it’s a problem within the family, first ascertain if there’s an upset between him and Belphie. If the twins are having a spat, the best way to cheer him up would be to help resolve it.

For other family related issues, please seek out our supplementary material: On Demonic Family Relations & How to Resolve Demonic Family Squabbles

If he’s having nightmares, then you should consider monitoring what food he eats before bed and stay with him while he sleeps if you are not already. It will comfort him to have you close. The nightmares should pass eventually, but be there to give him love and support until they do. 

Beel may look big and intimidating, but he has the most heart of any demon out there. If he has gifted it to you, it’s only natural for you to feel distressed if he’s not acting like his usual self. Just remember that a downcast Beel is not the end of the world, nor something that can’t be righted with a bit of love and effort to reach out.

Belphegor

In truth, Belphegor is more prone than the rest to suffer from bouts of sadness regularly. There may not be an obvious cause for these dips in mood, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things you can do to help.

Belphie is very hard to read at times so physical indicators of sadness won’t be easy to catch. It may take some added familiarity with him to know when he’s acting differently than usual. Stay patient, vigilant, and empathetic. You will pick up on it eventually.

Look for these signs: increased apathy, melancholy, excessive sleepiness (yes, even more sleepy somehow), irritability, lack of appetite, and general withdrawal from the world around him.

It may be best just to ask Belphie how he’s feeling on a somewhat regular basis, but be careful not to frame your questions as if they’re coming from a place of excessive worry. He won’t want to feel as if you pity him or find him to be overly fragile, this is just a part of his daily life after all.

Beel can also be used as an indicator of Belphie’s emotional state. If Beel is looking particularly sad, it might be good to check on his twin just in case.

If it’s not a good day for him, he may not tell you outright. You will need to read between the lines. Watch where his eyes go as he answers and how long it takes him to respond. If he refuses to look at you or takes a little longer than he should to say he's alright, he may be struggling even if he claims to be fine.

Thankfully, there are very easy ways to bring Belphie a bit of comfort. Offering to nap together or cuddle is by far the easiest method and he will rarely refuse the opportunity. You can also make plans to go some place with him and Beel. Spending time with his twin will significantly improve his mood, at least under most circumstances.

If he and Beel are not currently on speaking terms, this could be another reason he's upset. Helping to resolve the issue should bring him back to good spirits, so do so post-haste.

Belphegor is a melancholic individual on principle. Though you may want to see him be cheerful more often, to some extent that’s just not a part of his nature. Don’t blame yourself if you can’t seem to get him to appear happy most days, the chances are that just having you there is doing more for him than you could ever know. Just remember that when he says he loves you he does, in fact, mean it.

[furiosity-wills-the-cat]

Mettaton’s Backstory:

This is part two of my ghost meta. I’d highly recommend reading part one first, which should be right below this post on my blog. It’s titled “Chara, The Fourth Blook Cousin” and it has the background for how I think ghost might work.

I mostly talked about Undertale ghosts in general and how they could explain Chara’s mysterious presence in the game, but now I want to talk about Mettaton, Maddy and Napstablook, and explain my thoughts on their backstories, why they’re different from other ghosts, how they became a family. Because I think about them literally nonstop

METTATON

He is the baby of the cousins (until Chara comes along)

Ghosts dont age (unless they become corporeal) and the cousins (again except Chara who’s like 12) are all basically in their twenties, but MTT is slightly younger than Maddy and Blooky

And also he was formed extremely recently compared to them

I’ll explain them in depth later but they've both got a few centuries and Mettaton is like,, 70

Literally even Chara was formed longer ago than he was, but Chara doesn’t get adopted by the Blook family for a few decades so he joins first

So Mettaton is in this infuriating state where he is old enough to be losing track of years and struggling to keep up with technology and memes

But at the same time he talks to his cousins and they're like “Infant. Baby Boy. Imagine keeping track of what decade it is, you're so small”

He ends up being the self-designated cousin in charge of keeping track of time and pop culture and whatnot out of spite

He’s like “I’ll never forget what's relavent, its not because i’m baby, its just because i am better than you”

Tiny recap from my previous post- I think ghosts are formed when monsters die while completely unsatisfied,

the ghosts have no memory of who they were and they don't have souls unless and until they become corporeal, but they get their personality and some habits from whoever they were

And mettaton starts out being completely obsessed with this

He wants to know who he was and what life mission he left unfinished

He’s like “its gotta be super important because the universe literally made me immortal so i could finish it”

But figuring it out is… hard

It can take ghosts years to form after someones death and theres just so many monsters its impossible to narrow it down

When he does research he makes a lot of friends with monsters who have recently lost loved ones and he actually gets really good at talking to them and listening to their stories and letting them vent

This is a huge part of the reason he never starts to fade or sink into depression like most ghosts do at first, because he has people to talk to who need him

But also while doing research, he realizes that there’s no one he can find who he WANTS to be?

He’s like “yeah these all seem like they were cool monsters when they were alive but none of them seem like me?”

He has little hints of who he was, he knows he hates being alone and needs people near him always, he knows he’s super curious about learning about other people and reading dramatic stories and listenifn to gossip,, and he is for some reason extremely curious about humans, he knows he loves the color pink and the concept of the stars,,, but like,,, none of those are a life mission,,, they're just little quirks

So anyway like a year in to becoming a ghost, he is being emo and crying about this in waterfall when Maddy finds him and is like “shut up, youre scaring the snails” and he’s like “fight me right now… OH MY GOSH ARE YOU HOLDING A SNAIL THATS THE CUTEST THING EVER”

Maddy and Blooky do not invite him to join their family, he literally adopts himself

He is like. Lovely. Pretty farm. I live here now. I am building a house. I work here now. You are both my cousins.

And they just accept it.

He doesn’t ever really introduce himself to them officially?

He’s still convinced he needs to know who he was, so he’s kind of terrified of having his own opinion on his name or gender or anything because what if he’s wrong?

They both try to ask him who is is or anything about him but he’s just like “Nope Nope Nope, you are not allowed to percieve me yet. Give me attention but do Not perceive”

But he is happy to talk about the snails and to listen about how to care for them

Also he wants to learn more about ghosts because most other ghosts are just little lumps of sadness and regret who dont rlly talk so he tries to like,,, just lay on the floor in blooky’s house and see if theyll tell him things,, or he’ll just bother them until they tell him things

Blooky is the one who introduces him to music, and its mostly by accident

Mettaton is like,, actually fascinated by Blooky’s love of music and is like,, “wait IS it fulfilling? Is THIS what you died to do? Is it your greater purpose? Does it make your life worth living and make everything right and the stars align as you realize who you were before??”

And Blooky is like “I like… drum… sticks go click click and it is nice…”

And Mettaton is like “fascinting.. tell me more.”

So thats how Mettaton gets music lessons from Blooky

He also encourages them to play their music for others and start a band

Which Blooky ends up loving so so much

They dont like talking to strangers but they love performing, its a completely different energy

and thats also how mettaton is introduced to performance

And he’s like “oh. Oh ho ho. This is pretty nifty”

So anyway he continues trying to figure out who he was but he’s also kept more busy and realizes that just. Doing stuff is good

He starts a bunch of clubs and activities and stuff because he adores meeting people and being in the center of attention

Until eventually he makes the human appreciation club and meets a certain lizard

And she REFUSES to talk about herself and Mettaton doesnt know what to do with himself because SOMEONE’s gotta be vulnerable

So it takes him all of two minutes to start gushing about how he’ll never know who he was meant to be and it sucks because how can he ever be himself or become corporeal if he doesnt know what he was supposed to do or look like or be

And alphys is like. “Oh. I could try designing something for you. What do you want to look like?”

And mettaton is like. “Wait. I am allowed to want? I thought i was just. Something. And i have to find it.”

And alphys is like… “listen i am not a ghost expert but i feel like if u could be anything, why not be? Do u want pink swooshy hair?”

And he’s like “oh my god yes please”

He doenst tell his cousins because it still feels illegal to him to just. Decide who he WANTS to be instead of being who he was meant to by the universe

Literally neither of them would care, both of them are so confused by his destiny obsession anyway but unfortunately he is stupid

And then he moves in with alphys while she makes his body and he is just so so happy and he gets to choose what kind of character he’s reborn as

And eventually ofc he does tell his family and they are like “you are stupid. I love you”

[vigilvntes]

Bruises - Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader (Star Wars)

A/N: the way i had the opening of this in my drafts for ages and then at the big time of 2am i decided i wanted to rewrite the whole thing and get it published ;) i’m so much more motivated to write than usual when i should be doing uni work but oh well more kylo content for you guys <33 inbox is always open for requests while im actually writing so feel free to send and i hope you enjoy <33

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: mentions of minor injuries. 

You walked out of the casino, wincing as the harsh evening winds hit your bare arms. The dress you wore did little to nothing to protect you from the weather, but the last thing you expected to be doing was leaving the venue in search of your date.

Canto Bight was never your favourite place. In your opinion, it was filled with sleazes, who only came to the city for three things: money, booze and sex. However, you were the daughter of a noble family and despite your wishes, your family often sent you along to the gatherings they were expected to attend, assuming that you would fit in with the crowd more than they would. They thought you’d enjoy the party, enjoy the alcohol, even the attention you often seemed to draw to yourself. How wrong they were.

However, there was always one saving grace to evenings like these: Commander Kylo Ren, of the First Order.

The two of you weren’t official, as much as you would like to be. You understood that he had work to do, with his grandfather leaving big boots to fill, he barely had time to sleep, let alone date. But for some strange reason, you were different. You caught his attention, and he made sure to make time for you, whether that meant attending parties and events with you, or simply going out of his way to visit you, if only for an hour. 

Truthfully, you had spent many nights lying awake, tears in your eyes as you thought about your future, which you hoped would be with Kylo. Would he eventually ask you to be his girlfriend? Would he want to marry? To him, those questions would seem trivial, of no importance. He loved you, and would find ways to show you. But to you they meant a lot, and you were hoping for some kind of answers sometime soon. 

You shook your head as you made your way over to the short wall which surrounded the casino, leaning on it, using your elbows to keep yourself propped up as your head rested in your hand. Your gaze flitted between the city and the body of water beyond, which seemed strangely calm despite the mean winds. For a moment, you forgot about the cold, forgot about why you had even come outside in the first place as you watched the waves slowly made their way towards the shore. 

Your peace was soon interrupted.

A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and you let out a yelp, turning around quickly to face whoever had touched you, ready to defend yourself as much as you possibly could. Until you heard that familiar, smug chuckle come from behind a mask. You knew exactly who it was before you.

You rolled your eyes, “Way to make an entrance, Commander.” Despite your annoyance, you truly were happy to see him. Immediately you pulled him towards you and wrapped your arms around him, smiling into his chest as you felt him return the gesture. 

Eventually, you pulled away and narrowed your eyes at the man. “Don’t think you’ve gotten away with it. I still have a bone to pick with you.”

Despite how hard he tried to hide it, you heard him sigh lightly underneath the mask and mumble a disgruntled, “Go on.”

“First of all you’re late.”

“(Y/N), I had bus-”

“I’m not finished.” If anyone else spoke to him that way, they would surely be punished. But not you. He allowed you to put him in his place, mainly because he couldn’t ever bring himself to snap at you, but also because he found you too cute when you were pissed off with him.

You took his silence as a go ahead to continue with your rant. “You’re late. Your clothes are ruined. Your helmet still has smoke coming from it. Do I need to continue? How did you even get here? Where have you been?”

“Like I said-”

“Take it off.” You demanded. You were sick of hearing the robotic voice coming from the mask already. You wanted to speak with Kylo, not Commander Ren. 

An almost stunned silence washed over him and he replied to your demand with a quiet, “T-take it off?”

“The helmet, genius. Take it off.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, but eventually he reached his hands up and pulled the helmet from his head, revealing a mop of dark, curly hair, which had grown longer since the last time you saw one another, and just as you had expected, new cuts adorned his face, almost nicking the gauze of the scar he had attained during the destruction of Starkiller. But what really caught your attention was the black eye. 

He simply stared at you, waiting patiently for you to react, prepared to accept anything you threw his way. But for a moment you said nothing, all you could do was sigh.

After a minute, you moved closer to him and reached up, your fingers tracing the scar on his cheek, offering him a small, sympathetic smile, “If I remember correctly, the invitation said black tie, not black eye, Ren.”

Kylo couldn’t help but smile at your comment, and you were glad to hear his deep voice, which you had missed so dearly, reply with, “I must have read it wrong.”

“You wanna tell me how Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order, has ended up with a black eye?”

His smile dropped at your inquiry to know more about his injuries, and your smile followed suit as you realised exactly what had happened. “It was them, wasn’t it?” You asked.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Kylo. It was the Scavenger and her Resistance friends, wasn’t it?”

His silence said everything. He pushed his tongue into his cheek and looked away from you, almost embarrassed. And truthfully, it was quite embarrassing. He was Commander Ren. He was feared. Respected. Yet he couldn’t even manage to capture and kill a scavenger girl. 

You turned away from him, moving your attention back to the sea, crossing your arms. He knew you were pissed and he’d have to talk his way out of this one somehow. His silence simply wasn’t enough.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry that I turned up so late.” You didn’t even move, let alone reply, so he continued. “And I’m sorry about the state of my attire.” No reply. “And.... I would also like to apologise for the state of my face.” He wasn’t usually one to apologise to anyone, but a genuine apology from him was the only way for him to bounce back from his fuck up’s.

You tried your hardest to keep your composure, but one of the most powerful men in the galaxy apologising for his face was enough to bring a smile to anyone’s lips. “I guess she got you good, huh?”

He came to your side after hearing your joking retort, “You could say that.” He found himself thinking this too often, but if anyone else had mocked him this way he most likely would have destroyed a wall or two. He knew you would never think of him as a failure, or an embarrassment, as many probably did. Your light-hearted jabs at him were mainly for your own comfort. To make light of any bad situation he often found himself in.

You sighed, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You hated how quickly you could melt back into him again, but you couldn’t waste any more precious time you had together being angry or upset, “I just worry about you,”

“I know. But you shouldn’t,” He mumbled. “I can be reckless. I throw myself into danger. But I also come back fine.” He knew to you those words would probably mean nothing, but he was trying his best to comfort you. 

“You make it so hard not to worry. I mean, this war you’ve got going on... It’s so much bigger than you, or me, or the Scavenger girl. And truthfully, I’m scared. Terrified, actually. For you, for me. For my family. For everyone, really.” That was the first time you had ever admitted your fears to him. There was no way he’d give up his title, give up the First Order, but you hoped he’d provide you with a little reassurance that things would be okay. 

His grip on you tightened, not so much that it would hurt you, but enough to know that he felt every word you spoke. “You know I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you, or anyone you care about. I care about you too much to hurt you like that.” He stepped in front of you and knelt down, taking both of your hands. “As for everything else, I can’t make any promises. No one, not even the Supreme Leader knows what’s coming next. All I can ask is that you trust me enough to make the right choices.”

His words, for some reason you couldn’t quite decipher, felt like they held some hidden meaning. Like he was planning something drastic, or he knew something drastic would happen in the future. But you took these thoughts with a grain of salt, choosing not to press him any further, and instead choosing to trust him, as he asked of you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you offered him a small smile, “Of course I trust you. I’d trust you with my life. Just... Do what’s right. And if it doesn’t feel or seem right then... Don’t.”

He nodded and stood up slowly, “Of course.” After a few moments of peaceful silence shared between the two of you, as you processed each other’s words, he broke it. “You’re going to have my head the next time I see you, I know, but I have to go.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You have to go? As in you’re not staying?”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I know I said I’d join you for the night but given how today went, I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“Oh, and where exactly are you supposed to be?” You knew the answer already, and you knew he’d probably be in some deep trouble, you just wanted him to say it himself.

Once again, he pushed his tongue into his cheek before replying with, “The Supremacy.”

Bingo, you thought to yourself. The Supremacy. The Supreme Leader’s ship. And Kylo chose to go out of his way to see you first, prioritising you over his master. You couldn’t help but feel flattered, even though your plans for the night had been ruined. You gave him a small smile, “I suppose because you came to me first, and because I’m almost certain the Supreme Leader is gonna give you a harder time than I ever could, I’ll let this one go,”

“I appreciate that.” He leant down and pressed his lips to yours gently, and when he pulled away, he left another on your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

As you watched him walk away, towards the steps, you wished you could go with him. Be by his side, be able to see him everyday. Even though you knew that wasn’t exactly possible at the moment, you couldn’t help but ask. Before you could stop yourself, you had called his name, and he, already a few metres away, had turned to look back at you. 

He knew what you were going to ask, and this time his answer was more hopeful than it had been before. He couldn’t tell you what was to come, but he hoped it would work for the both of you.

“Kylo I-.... One day, will you take me with you?”

He nodded his head slowly, and spoke only one word, “Soon.”