#but nothing about its shutdown had anything to do with it

[armenianwriterman]

I just saw dozens on people on here celebrating the Rooster Teeth shutdown news because they hate RWBY. Nice job celebrating hundreds of people losing their jobs due to corporate interest because the show the internet told you to have a hate boner for got canned, you dicks.

[write-tama]

"hank.. what am i feeling right now?"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ connor anderson (4k800) x officer!reader

sypnosis ; connor is very interested in an officer who just joined the police force. after being told the news that they would be joining the team, connor just had to make an acquaintance with them. anything to hear their voice.

containing ; use of you/yours and they/them pronouns! connor struggling to process emotions. hank being a proud father.

author’s note ; hihi! havent written for connor in SO long so i thought this was a cute little way of them meeting each other. connor is a

04.12.24 | 1.9k words

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everyone knew about the infamous RK800.

The last most developed and intelligent android produced by Cyberlife.

A machine built to hunt its prey and to always accomplish his mission.

But now?

A confused man sitting at his desk, elbows on the surface as he ran the fourth diagnostic this morning.

Connor was never really taught how to feel his emotions, considering that he was forced to compress them from the moment he was made. If he were to feel any sort of emotion, it was either to the scrap factory for him or a hard lecture from Amanda.

But Amanda was gone, and androids were free to express any emotion they pleased.

It’s been weeks since Markus hit the headlines for his famous android revolution. He worked with the government extensively to pass bills in order to settle android rights for the country. Connor, on the other hand, continued to work with the DPD as a full-on detective under the supervision of Liutenant Hank Anderson. Hank was more than just a coworker, but a father figure to Connor. And that brought Connor joy, an emotion Connor was well aquainted of.

But not the feeling he was experiencing now.

Connor couldn’t get his mind off a certain someone who had joined the team a bit before the revolution. You had joined a week prior, and honestly, you were kind of regretting it. As android and human tensions rose, you were on duty 24/7. Originally, you were supposed to start easy with basic patrol around a part of a city, but because you were so impatient in doing the “big kid stuff” you found yourself frequently in the middle of the android and human discourse. Your shifts nearly lasted twelve hours, and you would be absolutely exhausted.

Things are different now. Sure, there were still some situations between the two sides, but it was definitely peace compared to literal boycotts. You sat at your desk idly scrolling through your past cases, making sure that all the information was correct and accurate. On the other side of your desk was a tablet full of notes you had taken after some cases you had to deal with. What you didn’t notice was the android detective constantly glancing at you, watching your every move to see if maybe, at some point, you would notice him.

A loud groan echoing from the desk in front of Connor made him jump, immediately turning his attention to his lieutenant taking a seat in his chair. “Fucking hell..” Hank sighed. “Fowler does nothing but my bust my balls these days, huh?” Connor stared at his partner with his hands folded in his lap and eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything okay, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, tilting his head.

“It’s nothing too serious. Fowler just wants me to take the rookie on our next homicide case. He insisted that they would be a perfect addition to the team or whatever.” Hank groaned. “Now I’m responsible for two of you fucks.”

Connor, admittedly, felt his thirium pump racing. You? As part of the team? It was almost like he could overheat and shutdown momentarily right now. “I think they would be a great addition to the team.” Connor stated, biting back from smiling. “They have an excellent track record of solving cases in an orderly and timely manner, has caught every perpretrator with their undercover skills, and had a reputation back in their training classes as one of the top students.” He explained. Hank looked over as he was slouched in his seat with arms folded across his chest.

“Jesus, Connor, you sound like some creep searching up their name on Google.” Hank scoffed, half smiling. Though this caught Connor a little off— was he being creepy? He didn’t want to leave a bad impression on you, especially now that you're about to meet for the first time. His face scrunched up in anxiety, feeling as if he made a mistake. Hank immediately took notice and sat up. “Ah— I was just joking, Connor. I’m sure you have uh.. Good intentions.” Hank reassured, though he never said he was exactly good at it.

Hank looked over to you, seeing that you were preoccupied with work despite the fact you haven’t been on a case in a few days now. Hank looked at Connor. “Well.. Why don’t you introduce yourself to them.” Hank suggested, nodding his head over to you.

Connor immediately jolted his head up, a little wide-eyed to even suggest such. “O-Of course.” Connor stuttered out. Connor never stuttered, and though Hank was in a mood after his exchange with Fowler, he certainly didn’t leave that unnoticed.

“Did you just stutter?” Hank asked, a little amused. “Are you.. Nervous?”

“Of course not, Lieutenant,” Connor replied as steadily as possible. “I am an android.”

“Connor.”

“Yes?” Connor replied, mindlessly.

“You’re a deviant, for fucks sake.”

“Oh.”

Connor, to avoid anymore embarassment from the man he deemed his father figure, swiftly got up and started to approach you. Hank watched in pure amusement, not even wanting to stop the boy from probably embarassing himself even further, but at least Hank had some faith in him. He is Detroit’s best god damn detective.

“Hello, Officer (l/n). My name is Connor. It is nice to meet you.” Connor said, putting his hand out for a shake. You looked up from your computer screen only to be met with the most chocolate eyes you’ve ever had the privilege of being in the prescence of. He smiled politely, but behind that smile he thanked Elijah that androids could not sweat, otherwise you would’ve felt the claminess of his palm.

You took his hand and shook it firmly. “A pleasure to make your aquaintance. My name is (y/n).” You smiled generously, and wow, did Connor felt like his pump couldn’t get any faster.. He cleared his throat before darting his eyes to the unoccupied chair that sat next to your desk.

“May I?” Connor asked, gesturing towards the seat.

“Of course, I’m not doing much anyway.” You nodded. Connor took a seat, and for some reason, he struggled to even maintain his balance as he sat himself down. He nearly had to think about how to fold his hands before placing them firmly on his laps and looking at you. Thankfully, you barely realized any sort of struggle as you looked away to take a swig of your morning coffee.

“So..” you said, clasping your hands. “Am I in trouble or anything?” you joked. Connor immediately shot his head up, worried he had made the wrong impression.

“Oh, no— I—” Before Connor could sputter out an explanation, you tilted your head a little and started laughing.

“Relax! I was just kidding!” You playfully waved off. Connor’s shoulders immediately relaxed as a breath he didn’t even know he was holding back escaped his lips. You looked at him curiously, a smile still resting on your face.

“I’m sorry. Usually, I am not like this.” He said, shaking his head a little in embarassment. He was always on his A game and constantly prepared. Why were you the reason for this disruption. “I.. Uh..” He couldn’t think of anymore to say. Suddenly, he got a message through his LED.

NEW MESSAGE:

HANK: tell them u think theyre pretty.

Connor blinked a bit, registering the text message. Hank was at a perfect view watching this unfold. The back of your head was visible but he could see all of Connor’s reactions, who desperately tried to maintain a polite smile.

“I think you’re very pretty, (y/n).” Connor complimented.

“Oh— ah—” A subtle blush began to form on your cheeks as your eyes widen a little, not expecting a compliment from a handsome android such as Connor. “Why thank you, Connor. I wasn’t expecting that as our first conversation.” You chuckled a little. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Thirium was rushing through his circuits and to his cheeks. The faintest color of blue appeared dusted on his face. “Thank you.” He maintained a calm, neutral voice. They stared at each other for a minute, sort of registering the sort of corny first conversation the two of you had.

“Ah.. I almost forgot to mention.” Connor snapped back to reality. “I came here to introduce myself sfter I heard that you were joining our team on our next investigation. It’s good to make an aquaintance with our future team member.” Connor smiled politely.

“Why thank you. I am very excited to work with you and Lieutenant Anderson.” You nodded. “Though I will miss working with Gavin and Chris’ team.”

Ah, that’s right. You used to work with Gavin. It almost left a bad taste in Connor’s mouth knowing that Gavin probably spat some awful opinions about him to you. Though from the looks of it, you were enjoying your conversation with him which eased him.

“I promise we will a provide a welcoming and safe space in our team, and of course, to make sure you don’t come into harms way.” Connor assured. Though he was mainly promising this to you personally. God forbids Connor seeing you get hurt.

“Why thank you, Connor.” You said, tilting your head. Connor was rather intriguing to you— an android acting this way around you. His LED constantly switched between yellow and blue as if he was making sure to process every word you uttered. Yet he was so human— he would scratch the back of his neck, fidget with his fingers, and shuffle a bit in his seat. You would think someone as advanced as him would at least be able to have a composure, but he was different. It was something you admired about him.

“(l/n), in my office!” Captain Fowler called from the balcony of his room. You looked over to Connor before sighing.

“Well, boss is calling me. I’ll talk to you afterwards?” You suggested as you stood from your seat.

“Of course.” Connor replied, shielding his excitement. He stood up from his chair as well. “I’d be happy to talk again, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You winked. With that, you left your desk and headed straight to Fowler’s office. Connor stood shellshocked. Did you just.. Wink at him?! Connor’s eyes slowly drifted to Hank, who was chuckling heartily. He gave Connor an assuring thumbs up as Connor made his way back to their desks.

“You’d be a shit detective if this is how you acted all the time.” Hank snickered. Connor grinned a little before taking a seat back at his desk.

“I know.” Connor sighed, leaning a little back in his chair. He at you through the glass walls, noticing your upright posture and the way you listened intently to Captain Fowler’s words. He looked over to Hank before thinning his lips.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“What is it, son?”

“What am I.. Feeling right now?” Connor asked, a little lost on how to explain it. “I can only think about them— only envision them when I close my eyes. I get nervous and its like my programming has reduced to 0s and 1s.” He sighed, hell, even a little frustrated that you had this affect on him.

Hank with a wide smile, shook his head and looked at Connor with a knowing stare. Connor looked up, both lost while desperate for an answer and maybe even a cure. Hank sat up and made sure to look at Connor right in the yes.

“Connor,” Hank sighed, grinning. “Son, that feeling your experiencing is called love. And your plastic ass better get used to it.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

thank you so much for reading towards the end ! im sorry if its a little messy-- i quickly had to post this before hanging out w some friends but i just wanted to get this out of the way rq! reblogs, replies, and even likes are so so appreciated <3

[lion-writer]

Reincarnation Au where Kaveh and Alhaithem reincarnate into Aventurine and Ratio. Because I've seen a ton of comparisons between these two and Need a reincarnation Au badly.

They're so similar on a surface level, flamboyant blonde x tsundere scholar. Then you get deeper and realize just how different they are. Alhaitham is lazy, and doesn't care about others. While Ratio is passionate to a fault, he's dedicated his life to teaching, to spreading knowledge.

And on the other side, we have Kaveh and Aventurine, two blondes who have lived lives of tragedy, and have self esteem in the negatives but try to cover it up with a flamboyant attitude. We have Kaveh who binds himself to his ideals, suffering for their sake. While Aventurine is bound by others and by fate itself and as such isn't free to hold himself to such ideals.

But If they're so different, how do you get Kaveh and Alhaithem to become into Adventurine and Dr Ratio? You may ask. And the answer is quite simple. You just break them.

Once upon a time, there lived Kaveh, who lived with Alhaithem. And they were in love, not that most people were able to tell what with all the fighting. A lot of it was over Kaveh's bleeding heart, how he would sacrifice himself on the altar of his ideals. How he would give and give only to receive nothing but pain in return. And then one day Kaveh got sick, and died, slowly, painfully, and far too young, questioning if it had all been worth it.

After Kaveh dies, a month or a year, some amount of time later, a cure is found. And Alhaithem recognizes the researcher who developed the cure, maybe they asked for his advice only to be shutdown, or they had submitted their research application while he was grand sage only for it to sit on his desk for a month and get rejected. Maybe nothing would have changed had he helped them, but possibly a cure would have been discovered quicker. And that possibility haunts Alhaithem, that maybe had he cared, maybe if he tried to help, maybe Kaveh would still be there. But maybes won't bring the dead back to life.

Thus in another life we have Aventurine, who can't quite remember why he tried to do the right thing, but knows that it has been his downfall before. He has two lifetimes of evidence as that proves that loving something is the best way to lose it. But still, no matter how hard he tries, he can't help but care. At the very least, with this heart of stone he's tried his best to create, he feels closer to that voice he doesn't know yet can't forget.

While Veritas remembers loving somebody who Cared. Remembers losing them because he didn't. Remembers calling himself a genius only to be hated and alone. And so, determined to fix his mistakes, he makes it his mission to help others, he will not, can not, rest untill he has cured the universe of its ignorance . Even if he'll never be able to care as much as the smile in his memory did.

They both cling to a memory of the person they once loved, and try to push and prod pieces of themselves into that shape. Cause they'd do anything to see their partner again, even if it's just in the mirror.

Ratio remembers more of his past life, partially due to Adventurine attempting to suppress the memories of his childhood, and partly due to Ratio still desperately trying to not repeat his mistakes. Thus when they first meet, Ratio would despise Aventurine. It feels almost like looking at one of those face swap photos, an unholy conglomeration of somebody he regrets being and the face that haunts his dreams. Blonde hair in the wrong shade, mannerisms that are almost but not quite. Still he falls in love, slowly, begrudgingly, and hating himself for it.

On the other side, what little memories Aventurine has is mostly of a grey haired scholar with a tongue as sharp as his swords. And so Adventurine sees Ratio and can't help but compare the two. They're different, undoubtedly, but it would be so easy to ignore those differences and fall. But he can't, he can't lose yet another person he loves.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Got a little bit of an angst prompt but...

After witnessing something go wrong on a mission, Hotch has Reader do a mental wellness check. At first, Reader says he's fine and all that, but the team still convinces him to do it. It goes well, he answers questions (he's honest about his answers. For example, he's not afraid to die because it's just a new chapter to a book). He ends up talking about "these weird anxiety attack things. Like they're sudden and I know what triggers them but I don't know what they are."

In short, the wellness check turns out to reveal that Reader has c-ptsd panic attacks triggered by mostly loud noises, yelling, abandonment. This makes reader break into tears when he's told this because he feels like he finally understands what is "wrong" with him. This surprises the team because no one expects the sunshine guy to have anything related to ptsd

(Maybe a little cuddle party on the plane between reader, Derek, and Spencer? Can be romo or bromo)

Hiya, sorry it's taken yonks for me to write this

Warnings: panic attack, dissociation, blood, gun, mentions of death, hints (obvious hints) to child abuse.

You felt her blood splatter on your face, as your eyes snapped shut with the familiar bang of a gun. You hear the victim fall to the floor but you had squeezed your eyes shut at the sound. Another shot goes off and you force your eyes open as you see the unsub drop to the floor.

You're silent on the way back, blood on your face forgotten as you follow the team back to the SUVs. When you're back, you follow the team up to the bullpen when You jump when a hand is placed on your shoulder, your head snapped up. You looked up, seeing Morgan. It's the look on his face that reminds you that you're covered in blood.

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm fine. I just- I need to wash my face." You said, disregarding anything Morgan had to say, making a beeline to the toilets. Naturally, he followed.

"Talk to me, what's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing." You say, giving him a lopsided smile, face now blood-free and dripping wet. You grab a couple of paper towels, drying your face off. "Everything's fine, don't worry."

The team gave you a few days of peace (minus the worried looks). And by a few days, it was two, so a couple of days, really. They led you in with a false sense of security - a cup of coffee. You should have known they had an ulterior motive.

"Guys, I'm fine, really." You sigh, giving them a small smile.

"Just do it anyway," JJ says. "Even if you are fine, there's no harm in it."

"Do it for us," Garcia bats her eyelashes at you and you immediately cave. God damnit, how is she so persuasive?

And so, a few days later, you were sat in a psychologist's office. It was quite a nice office, actually. And they let you sit on the couch (that's how you know you must have looked like an anxious mess).

"Yeah, I'm fine." You say, giving a small nod. "The only thing is sometimes I get these weird anxiety things?"

"What do you mean?" She leans forward slightly.

"Like they're just these sudden bouts of anxiety," You give a small shrug.

"Can you describe it for me?"

"Er, yeah, sure. It's just like I'm trapped in my head. Like I just shutdown. I don't really know how to explain it," You give a small, nervous laugh. "It's just like I'm stuck in my head and I can't form a thought but my mind is racing, and I feel like I can't breathe."

She nods in understanding, "And how do you feel when that happens?"

"Scared."

"Why?"

"Because its like I'm trapped. And it's just this sinking feeling," You said, swallowing slightly. "And- and it's like I can speak, but I can't. Like the words get built up in my throat and I know what I want to say, I just, can't bring myself to speak."

"And... what can spark these off?"

"Um, I'm not really sure? Like if someone takes a certain tone, I guess? I don't know, it just makes me feel like a little kid and it makes me panic,"

She nods for a moment, jotting that down.

The appointment passes fairly quickly and you find yourself opening up to her as each minute ticks by. When the hour's up, she puts her notebook and pen down gently.

"I think it would be beneficial if we met weekly." She says, with a small smile. "Just to help you work through this anxiety, give you some coping mechanisms."

"Oh God, this isn't one of those things where you say to have a cup of tea or something, is it?"

She gives a laugh, "No, no, nothing like that."

"Good. I might have walked out otherwise." You give her a small smile, letting her know you were only half joking.

When the appointment was over, she let you have a few minutes alone in the room to gather yourself. It took you a few moments, you even tried out the square breathing technique she taught you. You straightened yourself out before standing up and leaving the room.

You go straight to your desk, keeping your head slightly ducked. You just really didn't fancy the socialising right now. You absolutely loved your team, but you'd rather just let yourself try to destress before the questions began.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asks, eyebrows furrowed as he approached you. He had waited a few minutes before he approached.

"Ye-" The word falls flat on your tongue and instead you just pause, trying to find the word. Why couldn't you find the word?

Hotch, sensing this, steers you gently into the unattended office to the right.

"I don't know." Is all you manage. "I don't think so." Hotch watches in concern as you blink. "No. No, I don't think so. Probably not. I don't think I am."

Hotch watches you for a moment before quietly sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You bite the inside of your cheeks before you gently shake your head. "No? Okay, that's okay. Did you want me to just sit here with you?"

You give a gentle nod, trying desperately to focus on breathing. It takes a while for you to calm down, but eventually, your heart starts to slow to a regular pace.

"You want to talk about it?" You shake your head and Hotch gives you an understanding look. "Okay, if you change your mind, I'm here."

"Thank you."

No one brings it up again. Until one morning on a case, you're on edge already, tossing and turning all night but unsure as to why you couldn't sleep. You're at the latest crime scene, it's the third body that's turned up since you've been there and the team are running on very little sleep.

A car door slams and it feels like it jolts through your body, matched with the yelling you can hear, you just freeze, breath catching in the back of your throat. Your father's voice echoes through your mind as he and your mother scream back and forth, the door slamming and the yelling becoming slightly more distant.

"(Y/N)?" Your eyes flick up to Morgan.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You answer quietly, giving him your very best attempt at a reassuring smile. You turn your attention back in front of you, watching a father grab his son's wrist, tugging him back. You know it's nothing, you had just watched the boy go to step out into the road. It's just a worried father stopping his son from getting hurt, but the skin on your wrist burns nonetheless. Your lungs are quick to follow.

Morgan's in front of you, trying to guide your breathing. It's rugged and you feel like you're dying. Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest, hands trembling. And yet, despite all of these feelings in your body, you've checked out. You no longer feel real, none of this feels real.

You can't feel your calves. Are you supposed to feel your calves? Can you normally feel your calves? What about your back? And your forearms, you can't feel your forearms. That's weird right? Surely you could normally feel your forearms.

"Hey, hey, talk to me." Morgan says gently.

"I can't feel my forearms. Or my calves." You say, you swallow slightly, "I'm supposed to feel them, right?"

"Okay, let's sit you down, okay?" Morgan gently guides you to a bench and you sit. "It sounds like you're dissociating, so we're just going to take a seat for a minute, alright?"

"Okay."

The case was solved not long after that, and you all piled back onto the jet. You had dibsed the couch and halfway through, Morgan approached you.

"Scoot over."

"Why?"

"So I can tie my shoelaces- why do you think?" He gave you a grin, sitting down next to you. "Come here."

You looked around, everyone else was asleep. You gave a small, mental shrug before leaning against the taller man.

"Thanks for earlier." You smiled. "Sorry I freaked out a bit."

"You don't have to thank me. And you didn't freak out."

"I did freak out." You corrected, "I was panicking because I couldn't feel my calves."

"Okay, yeah, maybe you freaked out a little." He chuckled quietly, "But you don't have to apologise for that."

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part I)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.6k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm (not detailed) •A/N: I couldn't fit everything into one post, so there will be a part two in a few day's time :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2007

The Triskelion slowly emerged in the distance. Tall, massive, impressive. A building fit for a strong organization like SHIELD. A statement to scare off their enemies.

It used to intimidate Katya too, back when she worked for that enemy. All Hydra agents were warned to stay far away from SHIELD HQ, unless they wanted to die. 

But in the past few months, it had amazingly become her safe space. A place where she could breathe for the first time in her life. A place she eagerly returned to.

Not right now, though. 

On this sunny, late afternoon in cold November, Katya dreaded landing the Quinjet on the flight deck and getting out. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons and flipped the switches, forcing her breathing to stay normal so the SHIELD agent in the co-pilot seat wasn't alerted of her anxiety. 

She failed her mission. She messed up. Badly. She let Fury down. 

And she was still on probation. 

Her boss was very clear; make one mistake and she's out. And Fury always meant what he said. Always.

Katya didn't think she could keep going if she was kicked out of the one place that showed her kindness. If she was forced to say goodbye to the love of her life once more. 

That was the worst of it all; her failure would come back on Natasha. Natasha who was responsible for her. Natasha who promised Fury that Katya was fit for duty. Natasha who had faith in her to become a better person.

Not only had Katya let herself, the safety of the world, and her boss down, she had disappointed the woman she loved. And that stung more than anything.

The Quinjet barely wobbled as it touched the ground—at least she could do one thing right—and Katya helped her co-pilot with the shutdown procedure before lifting her heavy body out of the pilot seat. 

She didn't want to go out there. As long as she was in the jet, she was safe from being fired. Or she could pretend that she was safe, at least. So Katya took her sweet time collecting her things, triple checking that the Quinjet was ready for its next use before reluctantly making her way outside. 

Her anxiety was miles high as she crossed the flight deck. She felt like a pig being led to the slaughter. Every step of her booted feet took more effort than the last. Katya kept her gaze ahead and avoided the scared agents that jumped out of her way, refusing to let them see the fear in her eyes. 

She thought about running. It was her first instinct after she managed to escape her mission earlier today. It shouldn't have taken her fifteen minutes to decide to call in a SHIELD pickup, but it did, and she felt so ashamed about it. 

That part of her life was supposed to be over. Done. But it tempted her like a line of coke tempted a drug addict. 

Being on the run, being alone, it was so much easier. The only responsibilities she had were to herself. The only person she could disappoint was herself. If she messed up on a shady deal, they would be hunting her for a while, but only her. 

Having people who counted on her was harder than she thought it would be. Emotions were harder than she thought they would be. Her default setting was to isolate and be alone. To run when things were bad.

But she wouldn't take the easy way out this time. She refused to. With a deep inhale, Katya stepped inside the building.

To her surprise, nothing happened. She expected some agent to materialize and take her to Fury, or for people to stare and gossip about her failure. She had even imagined Natasha standing there, a disappointed frown on her face. But life inside SHIELD HQ went on as usual. They barely spared her a glance.

Without further hesitation, Katya mixed with the group heading for the elevators. Maybe if she blended in, she could hide and avoid having her soul broken for a little longer. Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could make it to her room and hide from Natasha as long as possible. 

The agents around her should know how hard her heart pounded as they shuffled away from her. How scared she was. It could be the last time they saw her face. It could be her last day in this building. Her last time riding this elevator. 

Katya's throat closed up. The tiny room suddenly felt extremely crowded. Panic pressed on her lungs. When she arrived at her floor, she bumped some shoulders in her rush to get out. As soon as she crashed through her apartment door, she sank to the floor, shaking.

The silence inside her apartment was terrible. The thoughts in her head sounded ten times as loud in the silence. They were overwhelming. The angry voices screamed at her, calling her a failure, a loser, that she would be better off dead.

She wrapped her arms around her knees in search of comfort. Comfort that she didn't deserve from anyone else.

How did she manage to mess up this badly? The mission Fury gave her was so simple, nothing she hadn't done before. Infiltrate a Hydra building—one Katya had marked as one—and steal some information. In and out. 

But somehow, they spotted her. Katya still didn't know how. She knew nobody could have heard her, or seen her. But the alarms went off and all the exits were blocked. She was trapped with no way out.

It took her locking herself into a room and hotwiring one of the alarm boxes on the walls, to lift the blockades and escape. She ran for five miles through the hills and hid before calling a SHIELD jet to pick her up. 

Now they had seen her face, knew she worked for SHIELD, knew their facility was compromised, and knew what information they were after.

It was the worst thing she could have ever done. She might as well have sent them an email. Fury would not be taking this lightly. 

Katya only noticed she was hyperventilating when someone slammed a door shut down the hall that made her jump. 

She felt ridiculous, rocking back and forth like a baby on the floor of her apartment, but it was her apartment, her safe space. She felt in her bones that she started to belong here, that this was where she should be. So it hurt a million times more, knowing she herself was the reason she would lose it all.

Katya sat on the floor for hours, digging her nails into her arms until welts started to form. Only when dusk set in did she pick herself off the floor, exhausted and covered in cold sweat. Nobody had come to check on her. 

She did her coming-home routine on autopilot. Shower, unpack, turn on her phone that she couldn't take with her on the mission, eat something—even though her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous.

She had four missed texts from Natasha, each more worried than the last.

Nat (3:44 PM): Welcome back. Hope the mission went according to plan :)

Nat (3:46 PM): Are you okay?

Nat (4:18 PM): Can't get out of this meeting, so I can't check in. Can you let me know if you're alright?

Nat (5:52 PM): I hope you fell asleep. Dinner later? My last meeting ends at 7. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm taking it as a yes.

Guilt started to pile up on Katya's shoulders. She couldn't tell Natasha what happened. She couldn't handle letting her down. She couldn't handle breaking her heart. She couldn't handle having her own heart broken again.

Katya left the messages unanswered. Maybe Natasha would take that as a sign to not come and find her later. 

She didn't. When she showed up at 7 PM and knocked on the door, Katya pretended to be asleep. She stayed "asleep" for the rest of the night and never answered the texts in the morning.

This streak of avoidance continued throughout the week. Katya woke up earlier on purpose, so she finished breakfast right when Natasha walked into the cafeteria. She changed her workout schedule from early mornings to the late evenings to avoid Natasha, who trained in the morning. She walked the other way when she saw Natasha in the hallway. She didn't answer texts, or answered very late. 

When Natasha did manage to talk to her long enough to make plans, Katya canceled them last minute with some lame excuse. 

It stung. It hurt every fiber of Katya's being to ignore Natasha like that. The woman didn't deserve it. She should be getting angry with her, but instead Katya triggered her insecurities too.

When she asked if Katya didn't want her around anymore, the blonde swore she heard her heart shatter.

But this was necessary. Even though Fury still hadn't called her in, Katya knew her exit from SHIELD was close. She needed to create a distance between herself and Natasha beforehand, so it would hurt less when that time came.

"Stop avoiding me."

It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and Natasha had finally managed to corner Katya. Literally. She'd grabbed her wrist in passing and forced her into a random supply closet in the hallway. Her body pressed Katya's against the wall, a fire in her green eyes.

"I'm not. I'm busy," Katya answered with a hint of annoyance, impatiently eyeing the door. She had places to be, people to avoid. 

"Don't lie to me," Natasha bit back, vulnerability in the back of her voice. "We're beyond that."

"Nat." Katya tried, avoiding her gaze at any cost. She didn't want to do this.

"What is going on? You better tell me right now," Natasha demanded.

Katya scowled. "Nothing. Let me go."

"Kat—"

"I said, let me go."

Slowly, Natasha stepped back, giving Katya enough space to escape. The brunette eagerly took advantage of that and slipped back into the hallway. They may not be in a good place, but they always respected each other's boundaries.

Natasha was at a complete loss. The only thing she knew was that everything changed after that mission. If she wanted to know why Katya was avoiding her, the key lay at that mission.

The problem was; her clearance wasn't high enough to get any information. She'd tried to get into the system, but it blocked her. The only thing left to try was going to the person who knew it all.

"I need to know what happened. And no confidentiality bullshit." 

Natasha stood in front of Fury's desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was angry. At Katya, at herself, at the secrets. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, of being left in the dark. She wanted answers, now.

Fury lazily gazed up at her, unimpressed and calm. "It's simple. Petrova failed her mission."

A wave of nausea hit Natasha. Deep down, she wasn't surprised to hear this. She suspected something like this. But actually having it confirmed was something else. She, too, knew what it meant if Katya failed.

"Lots of us fail our missions."

"Correct. But we've also never had a Hydra deserter join us before," Fury said casually, reorganizing some folders on his desk.

Something clicked for Natasha. She didn't know the magnitude of the mission, or Katya's failure. But if Fury was this calm about it, and if Katya was still here, a week later, something else must be going on. As always, the Director of SHIELD had ulterior motives.

"You set her up," she realized with disgust. "You set her up to fail."

Fury didn't blink an eye at her accusation, only proving that she was right. "Only when they face death do people show their true faces."

Natasha boiled with anger, clenching her fists to keep herself contained. He really sent the woman she loved into a building full of hostiles just to prove her loyalty. "She could have died!"

"I knew she could get herself out of that situation."

Natasha had never felt as protective over someone as she did right now. "Katya doesn't deserve your mistrust. She's been loyal since she set foot inside this building. She hasn't lied about anything."

"Loyalty runs deep. We shouldn't underestimate her ties to her former employer."

Natasha swallowed back some nasty words. To call the Director of SHIELD an asshole was risky, even for her. Maybe especially for her.

"If your goal was to make her terrified of losing everything good she found, then you succeeded."

Fury sharply glanced up at her with his one good eye. "We are not a charity, Agent Romanoff. Petrova needs to understand that her stay here isn't guaranteed."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. What an outrageous way to prove a point. "If she has to go, I'm going with her. Just so you understand that too."

"Message received," Fury said dryly, returning his gaze to the desk. "Loud and clear."

A mess of emotions raged in her body as Natasha left his office and legged towards Katya's apartment. It was false hope that sent her there. Hope that her small, meaningless conversation with Fury would calm Katya down enough to talk to her. 

She was still furious at him. Furious for sending Katya into a trap, for mistrusting her, and for being the perfect director. She was angry because she couldn't be angry at him. In his position, it was a logical move to test Katya's loyalty.

But Natasha's love for the woman clouded her judgment. Funnily enough. 

"Open up." Her knocks were fast and impatient on Katya's door. "It's me, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." She was determined this time, willing to kick the door in, now that she knew why Katya acted so strangely.

To her surprise, Katya opened the door. Her body shielded Natasha's wandering eyes from seeing her apartment. She had dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and a slow way of moving about her. "What is it?"

Natasha pushed past her before Katya could stop her. It had been a while since she had been in the apartment, and what she saw broke her heart. "Why do you have everything packed?" Katya didn't answer. All her personal belongings were in bags. "You don't have to leave. It was a test. And I think you passed it."

Katya snapped her head up, her eyes suddenly wide awake. "How do you— Ты говорил с ним (You went and talked to him)?"

Natasha was taken aback by her sharp tone. "I—"

"мне не нужна няня (I don't need a babysitter)!" The brunette raised her voice. "I made a mistake during probation. He has every right to send me off, test or not!"

"But it's not a fair test if he set you up to fail!"

"That doesn't matter! Failing still isn't an option! Test or not!"

Natasha thought she would be easing Katya's mind. But the woman only saw failure, clouded by fear. Katya was too terrified to lose everything to think rationally. "You're being too hard on yourself," Natasha continued gently. "You're an amazing agent. All your other missions went perfectly."

Katya huffed, raising her arm to scratch her head. "You can save 20 people, but we both know you only remember the one you killed."

Natasha barely heard her words. When Katya lifted her arm, her short sleeve lifted enough to show red welts on her arms in the form of nails. Clearly self-inflicted. Pointedly, Natasha looked at that arm, the spots now carefully covered. "Nothing is worth doing that to yourself."

Katya watched her go with a broken look in her eyes.

[contemplatingoutlander]

The House GOP is a circus. The chaos has one source.

Republicans spent two years sabotaging the U.S. House. Another two years would be ruinous.

Dana Milbank does a masterful job of describing just how dysfunctional the House GOP members have been in the past two years.

This is a gift🎁link for the entire article. Below are some highlights:

The Lord works in mysterious ways. Six weeks after his improbable rise from obscurity to speaker of the House in late 2023, Louisiana’s Mike Johnson decided to break bread with a group of Christian nationalists. [...] “I’ll tell you a secret, since media is not here,” Johnson teased the group, unaware that his hosts were streaming video of the event. Johnson informed his audience that God “had been speaking to me” about becoming speaker, communicating “very specifically,” in fact, waking him at night and giving him “plans and procedures.” [...] Today, Johnson’s run looks anything but heaven-sent. In the first 18 months of this Congress, only 70 laws were enacted. Calculations by political scientist Tobin Grant, who tracks congressional output over time, put this Congress on course to be the do-nothingest since 1859-1861 — when the Union was dissolving. But Johnson’s House isn’t merely unproductive; it is positively lunatic. Republicans have filled their committee hearings and their bills with white nationalist attacks on racial diversity and immigrants, attempts to ban abortion and to expand access to the sort of guns used in mass shootings, incessant harassment of LGBTQ Americans, and even routine potshots at the U.S. military. They insulted each other’s private parts, accused each other of sexual and financial crimes, and scuffled with each other in the Capitol basement. They screamed “Bullshit!” at President Joe Biden during the State of the Union address. They stood up for the Confederacy and used their official powers to spread conspiracy theories about the “Deep State.” Some even lent credence to the idea that there has been a century-old Deep State coverup of space aliens, with possible involvement by Mussolini and the Vatican.

The above article was adapted from Dana Milbank's (2024) book: Fools on the HILL: The Hooligans, Saboteurs, Conspiracy Theorists, and Dunces Who Burned Down the House.

[See more below the cut.]

And this is on top of the well-known pratfalls: The 15-ballot marathon to elect a speaker, the 22-day shutdown of the House to find another speaker, the routine threats of government shutdowns and a near-default on the federal debt that hurt the nation’s credit rating. They devoted 18 months to a failed attempt to impeach Biden, which produced nothing but Marjorie Taylor Greene publicly displaying posters of Hunter Biden engaging in sex acts. One “whistleblower” defected to Russia, another worked with Russian intelligence and is under indictment for fabricating his claims, and still another is on the lam, evading charges of being a Chinese agent. As soon as Biden withdrew his candidacy, they promptly forgot their probe of Biden’s “corruption” and rushed to launch a new series of investigations into Kamala Harris (over her record on border security) and Tim Walz (over his military service and “cozy relationship” with China). After a number of failed attempts, they did impeach Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas (the first such action against a Cabinet officer since 1876) without identifying any high crimes or misdemeanors he had committed; the Senate dismissed the articles without a trial. House Republicans created a “weaponization committee” under the excitable Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio), but it was panned even by right-wing commentators when it produced little more than a list of conspiracy theories from the likes of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard. They lapsed repeatedly into fits of censure resolutions, contempt citations and other pointless acts of vengeance. In all of its history, the House had voted to censure one of its own members only seven times; in the two weeks after Johnson became speaker, members of the House tried to censure each other eight times. [...] In lieu of consequential legislating, they passed bills such as the Refrigerator Freedom Act, the Gas Stove Protection and Freedom Act and the Stop Unaffordable Dishwasher Standards (SUDS) Act. On the House floor, the Republican majority suffered one failure after another, even on routine procedural votes. Seven times (and counting), House Republicans voted down their own leaders’ routine attempts to begin floor debates — something that hadn’t happened once in the previous 20 years.

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

I'll never get over how Athena's trauma is written in Dual Destinies. I never will. It's one of few areas I have absolutely no complaints about.

At a surface-level, it's a very effective tool to evoke discomfort, fear, pity, and intrugue from the player. We get glimpses as to what's causing these nervous breakdowns of hers in 5-1 and it's nothing comforting (a courtroom with bloodied-out faces staring judgementally at a crying child is... distrubing). Those breakdowns are accompanied by near silence, letting us drink in the raw emotions of the moment. Her breakdown in 5-3 is a standout example; there's nothing but hollow wind and a shivering, broken Athena to lend the moment its deserved gravitas as she fruitlessly tries to calm herself.

Repeating the trauma of having to defend a dear friend from being accused for killing their tutor, in spite of nobody listening to you, is going to do that to you.

Come the revelations in 5-5, we get compelling body language with her covering her ears in distress - the most sensitive part of her & source of a lot of pain in her childhood. Shaking her head in denial at the revelation of what Simon saw when he walked in the robotics lab, how rarely she comes out of her sad pose during the first half of 5-5 (reminiscent of Edgeworth's own brooding pose in the Wright Trilogy, most often seen when he's reliving his own traumas). Even after things come to light and the truth is revealed, she struggles to even say what happened while locked in that Edgeworth arm-grab pose. It's fantastically handled each time it rears its ugly head.

Going deeper, it also explains a lot about her behaviour; her reflexive throwing of the police officer in 5-2 and her furious outbursts being some good examples. Her emotional state is pretty wild throughout Dual Destinies - partially because she's just like that - but partially because she's trying to keep the more uncomfortable feelings down. She goes quiet when the Blackquills first arrive, being avoidant around the topic of Simon and unable to confront Aura for just how cynical and loathing she's become. She's very iffy around blood and is noticably uncomfortable and perturbed during 5-3 (for reasons I have already mentioned). Her main motivation for keeping this pain to herself is a tragically relatable one; not wanting the drag others down in her sorrow. That's the reason she gives Phoenix when he tells him to back down and stop fighting (a stark contrast to when she objected on his behalf in 5-DLC, sensing he still had some fire left in him).

Despite having others help bring her back from a dark state of mind before, her pushing others away to carry the sufferage alone when it's too much for her feels painfully real.

But one of my favourite parts is how other characters handle it. Specifically, how Phoenix handles himself around Athena. Even if he doesn't know the full extent of her traumas, he knows she's nervous and perhaps not in the best of spirits. He's a LOT more gentle with her than Apollo, is for damn sure; guiding her through examining Courte's body and praising her for getting through it despite going pale. He does still tease in 5-DLC, 5-3, and 5-4, but it's more playful than what he does with Apollo. He also keeps it to a minimum in 5-1 after just barely making it before she has another shutdown, prioritising his role as a reliable presence over anything else. A very good example of this is 5-5; when the big revelation finally comes and Athena's ready to confess to what really happened during UR-1, Phoenix is there to reassure her that she's safe and prevents the Judge from butting in to give her room to disclose what happened.

When push comes to shove and Athena can't quite make it out of that terrible mental space on her own, it's her friends and allies that ultimately help pull her out. Juniper Woods re-assures Athena of her faith, something that had appeared to waver over this case until the truth of what she saw the day of the murder came out. Simon Blackquill reminds her why she's even here to begin with, indirectly stating that he so desperately wishes her to succeed and bring them both out of this mess. Apollo Justice - on top of the usual "your're fine!" bit - reminds her of the skills she has to turn 5-3 around. Phoenix Wright, having dealt with many a client and friend burdened by trauma, gives Athena the stable footing she needs to get back up and carry on. Even if he needs to step in now and then, it's not to belittle or infantalise her - it's to be supportive.

I've said before in a past essay I don't really think too highly of anymore that I don't really mind the fact that Athena needs so much help throughout the game. This is the main reason why; her PTSD from the events of UR-1 have a believable impact on her character and ability to perform normally, with characters helping to pull her back out in ways unique to them and their respective relationship to her. As I said, she gets all that support because she genuinely NEEDS it. The game does a good job proving that much.

And that's alright.

Part of the reason it took so long to solve this is that Athena constantly pushed people away from her problems. She didn't want anyone else to become another psychological casualty of something that otherwise only affects her. It's when she finally sees that Phoenix can and does help her that she can finally let him do so, and help him in return by digging into that dark place and letting the memories of that day come back to her.

Trauma in Ace Attorney doesn't often get this level of focus. It can and has been depicted rather well in the past - see Edgeworth for a good example - but Athena, being the heart-on-your-sleeve type and a protagonist, offers a unique opportunity to witness how it affects her on a more personal, sometimes first-person level. Between a gut-wrenching and haunting presentation, stellar characterisation, and fairly grounded consequences and reactions to it from her and others... it's a rare part of Dual Destinies that I have no complaints about.

Happy Thena Thursday!.....?

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 4: You've Given Me A Piece of Happiness

Chapter Word Count: 3,683

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language

Master List | Prev | Next

2020

Everything went to hell for a while.

March brought the shutdown of New York. Covid-19 was running rampant across the entire world. You didn’t know what to make of it. Though your job didn’t lay you off, you were working one-hundred percent from home. It was killing you, months of staring at the same walls, trying to navigate the unknown of the world around you to survive. Many days held anxiety for your loved ones, worried for their wellbeing, their soulmates. Being in one of the epicenters of the breakout, you took care to self-isolate and keep inside as much as possible.

It was hard, but over the years, your mental health got better, you spoke with your friends, your family, and started making more friends here in the city. You had moved up in the past three years at your job, you had an amazing team behind you that was open minded and ready to work unlike many of the other coworkers you’ve dealt with in the past. You made the comment of being alone but never lonely.

“Mimi, you really should just let me have groceries delivered to your house, I can afford it if it’s too much for you.” You sighed into the phone, laying back on your couch. “Or let me reach out to Jay and have her help you since she is in town.” 

“ Sweetie, you know I don’t really mind going out, I need it! I might be old but your grandfather and I are healthy, we are letting the soulbond do its magic.” Mimi laughed, moving something around in the background. She huffed and more rustling was heard. “ I’m taking precautions; masks, washing my hands, and I’m taking those damned vitamins you sent us every day – which is annoying as hell by the way. And your grandfather is being a peach fixing all the little problems we’ve had in this house for years now.” 

Shaking her head, you blankly stared at the ceiling before rolling your eyes. “Just don’t do anything reckless. I have Jay keeping an eye on you and I can get the neighbors to-” 

“ Goodbye Y/N, I love you. Don’t pester me-” And she hung up on you.

Not long after your abruptly ended call, a video call came in, one from your coworkers turned close friend, James, or Jamie as you call him. He has been calling you nearly every day since he was bored at home since his boyfriend, who worked in the Japanese business aspect of the company, was across the country with his family. Swiping your finger across the screen, you were met with a similar sight to yourself, Jamie laying back with his phone above his head. 

“Babes, listen up, I have the best announcement of the year.” You scoffed but said nothing in protest. “Seventeen is having a comeback next month.”

Ah yes, that was a recent development. For about a year now you have fallen into the trap of Kpop – thanks to Jamie. Seventeen was the first group he introduced you to when you noticed a guy as his background, who you thought was his boyfriend at first. Turned out to be a member named Mingyu, who you jokingly called Big Sexy once while drinking, and his boyfriend’s – well, soulmate – Kazuk ‘bias’ as they called it, was Jeonghan. 

“Didn’t they just release Fallin’ Flower a little over a month ago?” 

“Yes and? Moving on, we need to start saving money for when they have another world tour since we didn’t go to the one before the pandemic.” 

“You won’t take no for an answer?”

“Never, you have accepted yourself into this hole and I’m going to drag you in every way I possibly can.” At that, you laughed now, letting a snort out at the foolishness. Jamie only grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “And you can see your favorite, most handsome bias in the whole world live, Scoups~” 

“That isn’t so unappealing…” You sat up from your lying position and shook your head. “If we work hard and can get everything done from now until then without an issue, how about I treat us to it. Deal?” 

“Deal, boss lady.” 

Jamie laughed now, jumping up and off his bed as he paced energetically about his apartment. “You better start saving your money because I’m going to knock this shit out of the ballpark. Do you understand me? I’ll hold this bet over your head now!” 

The sudden shift in languages wasn’t uncommon now. You had finished your linguistics degree, having proficiency in four languages, and were currently in the processes of your Masters in business and international relations. It only reminded you of when Jamie first introduced you to Kpop the year prior. 

“Wait wait wait, you speak, read, breathe Korean in your job, you literally deal with international business from there and you don’t know Kpop?” He had asked, eyes wide and disbelief across his face. 

“I hate to tell you this Jamie, I’ve been living under a rock trying to keep my head above the water and moving up in my job. It isn’t like I had a lot of free time between that and finishing my first degree.” You replied as you typed away on the computer at your office desk. “Plus, I’ve listened to kpop, just never dove deep into all the fandom and group mumbo-jumbo.”

“ I don’t doubt that at all my dear friend.” Something Jamie liked to joke about was that your voice became softer each time you spoke in Korean, Japanese as well. “ But don’t just be working hard for a concert, understand? If your performance drops after, I can and will fire you as your boss.” 

“Oh because you would totally want to fire me, basically secretary and best friend.” Sarcasm bled into his words. “ You wouldn’t have a piece of entertainment in that boring off all day when we go back in the building or in your quiet studio apartment if i never called you so often. ”

Thinking back at those memories never failed to bring warmth to your chest. Jamie’s relationship with Kazuki, or just Kazu as he liked to be called, had given you some hope of the relationship you hope to have with your soulmate; communication, love, support, and understanding. From what you can tell, your soulmate wasn’t someone from your country, you’ve had many sleepless nights because of their sleep schedule being opposite of your own. 

Many of those nights you wondered what kind of person they were, what they did for a living, so much more, but you didn’t ponder too much. You held hope for yourself and your soulbond unlike your parents did. Those same nights you looked down at the countdown on your wrist, feeling whatever emotion they were experiencing, and wondered what that day will bring when you meet them. 

“I don’t even feel sick but we have to be holed up in our rooms for two weeks.” Seungkwan complained in their zoom call ‘schedule’ before they were recording. “ It just sucks we can’t do the stages and see Carats.” The pout was permanent on his expression currently. 

“ Yah, just be grateful we aren’t feeling sick like millions of others in the world.” Mingyu rolls his eyes, leaning back in his desk chair. 

“ Mingyu-hyung, you know I don’t mean it like that!” 

“Both of you, quiet. Let’s just get through this and pray the next two weeks go quickly so we can move on from this.” Joshua sighed, adjusting his laptop for a better view of himself once the recording started. 

Getting Covid right after the release of a new mini album wasn’t the worst thing so far. Or at least that’s what Jihoon told himself. Well, aside from the fact that he didn’t have much of his recording equipment…or a palace where he can work out properly…and all he really could do was watch anime. That wasn’t so bad.  There were plenty of new anime that were released or some that were getting another season. 

That began the longest two weeks of his life. Boredom was the overarching feeling. While he was a homebody (or studio-body as everyone liked to say for him), he hated the feeling of being locked up and unable to do anything. Jihoon had started a workout routine with the items he found around his room or calisthenics. He had taken to sleeping the majority of the days and while on a normal schedule, that would be fine for a day off, but after his third nap of the day and still days on end to go, he resorted to reading tweets, instagram posts, and more entertainingly, Tik Toks. 

Carats, despite Seventeen’s inability to perform for them, were great at entertaining themselves. Edits, assumptions, and just overall weird or funny tweets were simple joys they could pursue. In his mindless state, he began sending them into the groupchat the thirteen of them had. Jokes were exchanged regarding Jihoon of all people sending Seventeen memes into the chat, but not long after, a few others joined in on the antics. It was better than them watching netflix in bed, now it was just social media flipping before going back to netflix. So amusing. 

While Jihoon was glad his members, his staff, and himself were safe and only had mild symptoms for a few, he held immense relief that his soulmate was alright. There were some days over the past few months that he had anxiety bubble up in his chest at random times, how sometimes he had felt their worry but it didn’t last long from you.

It was funny how you had such a vast bank of emotions. While he did have many emotions, his own didn’t seem as deep as yours. While he worried, you had fear or anxiety pocketed with it. While he had excitement for comebacks and new music in general, when you felt excited, it was electrifying as if it was sparking him to life. He held partial envy concerning it. Your emotions alone reminded him of Seokmin, Soonyoung or even Minghao now, so emotionally mature to a point, so intune with their emotional expressions. It drove his music most days. 

Soonyoung actually made a list of some of their recent songs that had to do with the emotions he felt from his soulmate. Together was one from their recent album. It was inspired by the idea that one day he will walk on the same path with his soulmate and go through the hardships together. Jeonghan and Joshua had a field day making fun of him when they found out about Second Life . While he is someone who speaks comfortably with his brothers about how he feels and what runs through his head, he kept many of the feelings you subconsciously shared with him to himself. 

“ ...ung….Hyung…Woozi-Hyung.” Jihoon shook his head, sitting up from his slowly reclining position in his desk chair to look down at his ipad screen. 

“ Thank you for coming back to earth.” Mingyu snorted, starting to wiggle his eyebrows. “ Are they awake?” 

A few of them insisted on video chatting today since they had been so bored. It was a majority of the Maknae line that blessed his screen. At the question, snickers were heard through his speakers causing him to roll his eyes.

“ No, I was thinking about somethi-”

“Thinking about how in Loooooove you are with your soulmate.” Seokmin and Seungkwan hollard out with extra obnoxious energy. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon took in one long breath, flattening his lips in his signature ‘bread face’. He held his breath in for a moment before opening his eyes and stared deadpan at the people on his screen. 

“ I know where you sleep.” 

“Hey hey, wow, six feet apart, Hyung, can’t have us getting sick again.” Seungkwan’s words flowed out quickly, holding a hand out towards his screen.

Jihoon’s expression went from flat to somewhat disgusted. Once again, he rolled his eyes.

“ We are already- You know what I’m not even going to attempt to argue this with you because you will just continue to make jokes.” 

From his point of view, he saw his bandmate’s faces light up in victory and grin wide. 

Glancing down at his wrist though, he traced his thumb over the dark numbers on his skin. He just needs to be patient. Just over two more years.

2022 

From all the hard work from the three of you and the rest of your team, you all had received decent bonuses and a healthy promotion for yourself, advancing up to an assistant manager position in the sector of the international business section of the company. You felt accomplished outside of it all. Your masters was finished, you were advancing in your job, and you felt genuinely happy. Your grandparents were still around, your friends only got closer, and you had on and off butterflies knowing that you were so close to meeting your soulmate. 

As you sat in your office, leaning back in the cushioned chair, you lazily read through some of the files you needed to get through by the end of the week. So far, you were ahead of schedule so you didn’t stress too much, however you wanted to just peek at the information you needed to know. It was a quiet Tuesday so far, nothing too serious popping out at you. 

Your soulmate had been up all night, they were jittery, both excited and nervous. It had been building for the past couple of days, but it was nothing too major until now. 

It was later in the work day for yourself, closer to 4:30. You were passively getting work done before you clocked out at five and went home. Somewhere on your organized mess of a desk, your phone vibrated, but you paid no mind to it, knowing you can check it later. Not long after, you hear hurried steps from down the hall thanks to your office door being open and the out of breath call of your name as Jamie bends over in the doorway. 

You sat up, dropping the files on the desk and standing up. 

“Hey, is everything alrig-”

“Just…” He heaved a breath in, “Check twitter now!” 

Confused, you were taken back when Kazuki appeared behind Jamie, eyes wide and absolutely beaming at you. You’ve seen him animated before, he was bounding on the balls of his feet. It didn’t dawn on you yet but as you picked up your phone and opened twitter, it hit you. 

Staring down at your phone, you laughed to the point tears bloomed in your eyes. 

“Oh my god. You both are ridiculous.” You leaned forward with your hand on your desk. Though tear hazed eyes, you shook your head, seeing the two standing just beyond your desk now, giddy and nearly childlike. The fancy suits only added to the comedic scene.

To be far, you didn’t expect Jamie and Kazu to actually take your bet as seriously as they did, but yeah. It happened. You owed them (and yourself) tickets to the Seventeen concert now. 

“Jamie, Kazu, we are going to see Seventeen!” 

In the first days of June, Jamie, Kazuki, and yourself sat shoulder to shoulder on your living room floor. Though it wasn’t ideal, the three of you took the day off in advance for this. Each of you unsurprisingly had the Weverse membership, but you sat early in the queue for the ticketmaster sales to go live for early access. Your laptop rested on the coffee table before you, taunting you. On September 6th of this year, the group will be performing in Newark, New Jersey. You had decided to go there instead of New York itself. 

Your body buzzed with excitement, hands shaking and unable to stop your leg from bouncing. Jamie was doom scrolling through twitter, Kazuki was attempting to focus on the video he was watching, but your eyes never left the computer screen. Over the last hour, you triple checked your credit card information and the amount of money in your account. Now you sat, listening to the idle words leaving Jamie’s lips when he found an amusing tweet. The words never processed in your head, melding together with the brainless thoughts. 

“You look ready to throw up.” Kazuki placed his arm around your shoulder, making you tense but let out a breath of relaxation after. 

Turning your gaze to him, physically you deflated. “Nervous energy is building up. I’m excited, dizzy, and a little stunned that we are sitting on the floor of my apartment sitting in early access queue for all this. I just want to get us good seats.” 

“Babes, no matter what seats you get us, you know we won’t mind.” Jamie now threw his arm over your shoulder from the other side, squishing you between them. “All I care about is us seeing them and you getting to meet your soulmate! Hopefully they are cute, and who knows,” He began to wiggle his eyebrows, “Maybe it’s your bias.” 

The look of pure disbelief at his words had both of them cackling. To be honest, it wasn’t like you didn’t think about it. Kazuki did make that joke when you started to bias Seungcheol, but you never took it seriously. That was some delulu shit. 

Returning your eyes to the computer screen, your heart dropped. You were in the proper queue. You voiced the change and suddenly the three of you were sitting forward. As the number slowly got closer to zero, your heart jumped to your throat as the floor plans appeared. 

Fast fingers work on the bluetooth mouse and keyboard, quickly finding open seats that nearly had you keeling over. Floor seats, front row just off center to the left from the extended stage. You took no time to secure the tickets, bated breaths praying you were able to get them in time. From past ticket sales along, you knew the competition was cutthroat to put it lightly. As you watched the screen load, you froze in awe. Before you on the screen were three confirmed seats for the concert, front row.

Jamie’s hand on your shoulder slowly traveled to your back and began patting slowly at first but turned into semi-hard slaps of elation. “YN, YN you got them!” He yelled in your ear, breaking your unblinking stare at the confirmed screen. Your phone buzzed with an email regarding the purchase and a copy of the tickets. 

You blinked once, twice, three times, then the tears just…started to fall from your eyes and you let out a high pitched squeal. The sounds that began to leave you were really coherent, rather babbling of unnecessary doubt about the situation. 

“Holy fuck!” You were finally able to form proper words. “I just spent over a thousand dollars for this, you better get me food and stuff for the rest of my life! Kiss the ground I work on! Worship me like a Goddess!” 

Standing up, you jumped around the room, unable to keep yourself still even for a moment, believing that if you stopped, you’d wake up from this dear. 

“We’ll need outfits, a hotel, take the time off to-” You rattled off necessary things, but Jamie laughed and wrapped his arms around you, jumping in a circle. 

“One step at a time! I’ll make sure everything gets in order for this.” He placed the fattest, wettest kiss on your cheek. Half gagging as a joke, you push him away and snort.

It was going to be a night you will never forget for sure. 

“ I’m telling you hyung, they have to be a carat. No one can be that restless on a weekday and the time matches up with-.” It was the third time Jihoon said something similar to that in the last hour. 

Sitting in his studio, the animated energy that his soulmate pushed through to him was keeping him up. To no one’s surprise, Seungcheol and Soonyoung were lazing around on the couch on their phones, however it was nearing 4 in the morning. 

“ Jihoonie, if you repeat yourself one more time, I’m going to kick you out of your own studio.” Seungcheol dropped the arm holding his phone over his head, huffing before he continued. “ Take a chill pill and breathe. ” 

Turning around in his chair, Jihoon physically deflated despite the curiosity he held within himself. Beside the leader, Soonyoung hit his arm gently against the former’s chest. “ Leave him alone, let him be a love sick puppy and believe his soulmate is a carat. ” 

“ Yah, I’m not a love sick puppy-” 

“Yes you are.” His counterparts retaliated. Soonyoung continued sitting up to look level with Jihoon, “ For a guy that doesn’t want to talk about their soulmate much because you want to keep their emotions private, you sure do talk about them a lot.”

As he was about to counter argue the point, a tightness formed in his chest. The excitement he felt turned into pure unfiltered adrenaline. The sudden rush of emotions had him dizzy, using his elbows on his knees to hold his head up. That adrenaline only lasted moments before a bloom of bliss washed through his limbs. Soonyoung was kneeling in front of him when he came down from the shared high, shaking his head to clear the fog that was forming. It was like they had dipped themselves in euphoria and were riding out the glee. 

“ Tickets just went on sale in the US, right? ” Jihoon asked, giving no explanation to his friends, but Seungcheol gave him confirmation nonetheless. 

Soonyoung frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he sat back on the small ointment pushed against the wall behind his desk. 

“ I’m probably right by the way, assholes.” 

Scoffing in disbelief, the three shared a laugh. 

This year was going to be interesting.

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Trust, where there shouldn't be (1/2) (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8(wip!)

Summary: just when things were supposed to settle down, trouble stirs again- this time, with the fate of sumeru potentially hanging in the balance.

Warnings: mention of murder, crime, getting arrested, water,

Word count: < 3.3k

Inspired by: -

Author's note: this has been in my drafts for way too long! i'm back!! this chapter is a little more kaveh and cyno centric! i hope this chapter is ok :) its been so long since i wrote- had a lot going on! i'm going to have to recall the original plot i wanted to roll with, and check up on genshin lore!

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Usually, offences unrelated to the Akademiya were handled by the Mahamata- Sumeru's civil administration branch. To be specific, the crime division- which consists of the Corps of Thirty and the Mahamata investigation department (which overlapped with the Matra on occasion).

However, this isn't the case anymore for places outside Sumeru City. The work of the Mahamata is extremely procedure-heavy, which often translates into heavy reliance on Akasha Terminals to help speed up and manage the workload. As such, when the Akasha Terminals were shut down, what followed was nothing short of a mess. Nobody could remember what to do when faced with certain situations, and even if they did, it often was after a lot of work had piled up. Tasks like recording, which had been done solely by the Akasha Terminals, now have to be done manually (so now there's also a labour shortage in the Mahamata)- and of course, to make everything worse, all records before this have been destroyed together with the Terminals.

No one could start anything, no one could finish anything, nothing was being done; and at least from a law enforcement perspective, the growing public dissatisfaction with the whole situation- the Akademiya scandal, the current state of the nation and its administration, and the now scarily apparent increasing crime rate- is a growing threat to public order. The Mahamata is failing- or perhaps more accurately, has failed everywhere except Sumeru City, which had only survived this ordeal because Al Haitham was there to sort it out before things got out of hand.

To manage this, Al Haitham had instructed the Matra to help in regions that had seen a complete administrative shutdown. Cyno didn't see an issue- after all, the Matra didn't have much to do due to the small number of ongoing research projects (fewer academic violations). As such, the General Mahamatra had sent some of his most capable and trusted Matra to take over Mahamata duties- and he's proud to say that they have been carrying out their new duties exceptionally. Every once in a while, he'll get a report back from his dispatched Matra about their current status- and it all seems to be going fine, for now.

Port Ormos, however, was a strange case. In other regions where Al Haitham's Matra-Mahamata system was applied, it had worked perfectly- things began to pick up again, and, for at least now, some sense of public order had been restored. However, due to the unique circumstances in Port Ormos, the Matra-Mahamata system didn't change anything. The Port Ormos Crash meant nothing was happening at the port- there was no one there. There is nothing to administrate or anything to do. The only notable thing in the reports sent back to Cyno was that the Corps of Thirty Division in Port Ormos was gone; according to Rashim (the Matra he had sent there to take over Port Ormos's lead Mahamata's duties), it was because the Wikala Funduq's trade supervisors had dismissed them due to the lack of business- no business meant no people in the port, which meant that policing staff weren't needed. When Cyno had escalated this to Al Haitham in the name of security concerns for the people living at and around the port, the man had let out the loudest sigh he had ever heard.

"Well, it certainly explains why the people around that area have been calling the Matra of all people for crime reports," Cyno informed, placing Rashim's report on Al Haitham's packed desk. "What is your instruction, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham?"

"Could you spare any more of your Matra?" Al Haitham doesn't look up at him as he scans through a document. Cyno doesn't take it personally. "Send any that you can to Port Ormos. They'll take over the policing side of things until the Mahamata is stable enough to re-contract and manage the Corps of Thirty again."

"Very well," Cyno agrees as he watches Al Haitham quickly sign at the end of the page before picking up a new one. His new office above the House of Daena is dimly lit, but even so, Cyno can see the dark circles under his friend's eyes. "Al Hai-"

"Is that all?"

No. No, it wasn't. Cyno wants to ask if there's anything else he could do. If there is anything more that he could do. He has never felt so helpless before, watching his friend stress all alone while he watches.

The silence causes Al Haitham to look up at him, pen in hand, impatiently waiting for a response- and Cyno feels the question disappear from his lips.

"Yes- yes, that's all."

He couldn’t have done it. In hindsight, Al Haitham being the culprit makes zero sense.

Yes, he may have been the last person to see Mr Dilawar. And yes, the Matra did find bloody clothing in his overnight bag. But under scrutiny, several small details don’t add up.

For example, his movements on the day of the murder. No murderer would have stayed any longer in Vimara Village after killing someone there. Much less take time to wander around the village the next morning, buy groceries and chat about books for the next half a day. 

Next, the murder weapon. The Matra found a bloody kitchen knife next to Mr Dilawar and deemed it the murder weapon. The doctor that they brought along also agreed. But knowing Al Haitham and what he can do, it makes little sense- why use something that can be found when he could use his sword and then make it disappear? 

Nothing makes sense. Once you got over the initial shock and thought things through, Al Haitham being the killer makes no sense.

Or perhaps this is all just your wishful thinking- maybe you’re just trying to squeeze out any tiny, irrelevant inconsistency to convince yourself that the man is innocent.

You just don’t want him to be guilty, you scold yourself as you pace mindlessly outside your house. You don’t want to believe that a guy who would be so kind to you, chat with you about books, buy groceries for you when you were too scared to do so, would go and butcher a man and act so casual about it.

What do you even know about Al Haitham anyway? You’ve only known him for less than a week. Perhaps this is what he’s actually like, under all that kindness and gentleness and-

"It's you!"

The loud exclamation shocks you out of your ruminations. Where have you heard this voice before?

"It's me! Kaveh! Remember me?" You hear the loud sound of rushing footsteps before a hand grabs your shoulder and pulls. The force makes you spin on your heel, and you turn, finally seeing the man himself. His golden hair is in a mess- the feather on his head shoved haphazardly around his fringe- and he's drenched from head to toe. Did he run here? Or swim?   

"Kaveh? What are you doing here?" 

"I- it's a long story," Kaveh pants, removing his wet hand from your shoulder. "Do you know where the detention rooms are?"

"It's not too far from here," you point towards a dirt path leading away from your house, and Kaveh prepares to bolt in that direction. You quickly grab his arm before he does. "Kaveh, wait! Is this about Al Haitham?"

Through the warm, wet fabirc of his sleeve, you feel his arm tense up. So, it is about Al Haitham. 

"You've heard about it too," he sighs, turning to face you. He lowers his voice as you release his arm. "I thought that they were trying to keep it under wraps. If news got out that the Acting Grand Sage got arrested for killing somebody right after the whole Akademiya Sage saga..."

You shudder at the implication of his words. It would be chaos if word got out about Al Haitham's arrest. Regardless of innocence, nobody would be able to accept someone who was suspected of murder to lead the country. And in the state that Sumeru is in, she won't survive another political crisis.

"Let's speak somewhere quieter," you lead Kaveh towards your home. "Come on in."

The first thing Kaveh notices when he enters her house is how packed it is with books but not with anything else. 

"Do you want anything to drink?" She asks as she shuts her front door. "I'll go get you a towel. You look like you ran all the way here. Or swam all the way here. Or both?"

"I did," Kaveh groans, treading carefully so he doesn't wet her living room. Her sofa is a lovely shade of green; it matches her wallpaper perfectly. Now, if she moves that stack of books a little more to the left... "I snuck onto the boat Cyno and the Matra took here this morning and was kicked off about halfway when they caught me. I was worried about what Cyno was planning, so I ran all the way. The swimming was involuntary."

"Cyno is here?" Kaveh hears her step back into the living room. She hands him a glass of warm water and a towel, gesturing him to take a seat before sitting opposite him. "Wait, start from the beginning, how did you find out?"

"It's a long, long story," Kaveh sighs, sinking into the couch. "Basically..."

That arrogant, unbearable, stupid fungi took his keys again. Couldn't he at least have returned it before he left for Vimara Village?!

"I swear I'm going to kill him when he gets back," Kaveh complains from the couch. The General Mahamatra's office is comfortable, but not so much so that he would be happy to sleep on it for the night. A sigh comes from the table behind him, and Kaveh turns to face the shorter man. 

"And when I take my keys back from his corpse, I'm never leaving it in the key holder ever again!"

"I guess you've locked onto a solution," Cyno quips, and Kaveh responds with a groan. "Do you want me to call Ahangar to unlock the door for you? He does locksmithing services too. We could ask him to duplicate a spare key."

"That's beside the point. The point is-"

"General Mahamatra!" The door bursts open before Kaveh can finish, nearly shocking him off the couch. It's one of Cyno's Matra. She doesn't seem to see him- beelining over to Cyno's desk, holding a letter towards him. From where Kaveh lies, he spots a red wax seal keeping the envelope shut. "An urgent message from Rashim!"

"Rashim?" Cyno seems to have spotted the red seal and frowns. Kaveh hears Cyno's chair drag against the floor as he stands- and the mood in the room shifts. Something big has happened. Something bad? "Did you rush over here from Port Ormos, Shohre?"

Kaveh knows he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. Whatever is going on here is clearly important, confidential, and for Akademiya folk to deal with. He should excuse himself, let Cyno deal with the issue in peace, and head to the tavern to order all the wine and place it on Al Haitham's tab. 

But, whatever is going on here is clearly interesting, and Kaveh is bored (and for the record, this is all Al Haitham's fault- he wouldn't be so bored if he could go home and continue his architectural models). So, he decides to lie perfectly still on the couch; perhaps if he doesn't move, Cyno will forget that he's here and not chase him out. Let him hear the tea, please.

"Yes. This is a matter of utmost importance!" From where Kaveh lurks, he hears Shohre (who Kaveh slowly figures out is most likely a Matra stationed at Port Ormos) shift closer towards Cyno. "Rashim currently has the situation under control, so he sent me to deliver the message."

"But why send you? This letter would have sufficed."

"Due to the nature of the situation, Rashim felt that the matter had to be handled with confidentiality. The letter is for your eyes only- I was to ensure that," Shohre answers. "I was also to answer any questions regarding the incident at hand. Only the simplest details were included in the letter as a precaution."

There's a rustling of paper- an envelope opening, perhaps? Kaveh pictures Cyno tearing into the sealed paper as he holds his breath. What could have happened?

Silence. But just when Kaveh is about to lift his head and take a peek at the two-

SLAM!

"You can't be serious," Cyno's voice drops to a deadly whisper- a stark difference from the loud slam that reverberated through the room. Kaveh hears the crumpling of paper. "Is this a joke?"

"It isn't. Rashim is requesting your presence in Vimara Village at once."

"This is ridiculous," Cyno's voice takes an angry tone. Kaveh doesn't dare move. "How could this happen?"

If Shohre responds, Kaveh doesn't hear it. 

"How many people know about this?"

"Only the Matra who are involved in the investigation. And two villagers from Vimara Village; both have been sworn to secrecy," Shrohre blurts. "One of the villagers is a witness; the other was in the vicinity when the Acting Grand Sage was arrested-"

"I'm sorry, arrested?!" The sudden mention of Al Haitham is apparently enough for Kaveh to forget fear and jump off the couch. Shohre screams. Cyno whips out his polearm. Kaveh ignores both. "What happened to Al Haitham? Is he alright? Is-"

"You are not allowed here, what are you-"

"Cyno! What did Al Haitham do-"

SLAM!

"Enough!" The sound of Cyno's polearm hitting against the cool marble tiles shocks the two out of their squabbling. "Kaveh. I forgot you were here."

"That was kind of the point at first."

"Shohre. I'll handle this," Cyno turns to the Matra, dismissing her. "I'll meet you at the docks."

Kaveh doesn't miss the wary glance Shohre shoots at him- but decides to look at Cyno instead. When the door shuts, Cyno sighs, turning back towards Kaveh.

"I know you have questions-"

"Yeah, no sh-"

"But," Cyno interrupts with a heavy look. Kaveh feels a chill go down his spine. "You need to forget everything you've just heard."

What?

"I'm serious, Kaveh. No one can know what you just heard," Cyno folds his arms, staring Kaveh down. "You aren't even supposed to know." 

"You can't just tell me to forget after hearing that!" Kaveh scoffs. The audacity! "My fri- housemate just got arrested for Archons knows what, and you're telling me to just go on my merry way?!"

"Like I said, I'll call a locksmith to open your door-"

"That's not the point! I want answers! I want to know if he's okay!"

"He's fine!" Cyno raises his voice. Tempers are rising in the room. "As fine as someone who just butchered a man would be." He spits.

Silence. 

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing," Cyno flinches away, walking towards the door. "You should leave, Kaveh."

"Butchered someone? Al Haitham murdered someone?" Kaveh takes a step back. "Cyno, what?!"

"Kaveh, please go. Don't make me arrest you."

"... and so I left, kind of. I followed Cyno to the dock where his boat was waiting and snuck on," Kaveh recalls. "But halfway, I was betrayed by my rumbling stomach and was caught by the Matra onboard."

"And they dropped you off at the nearest shore?" she pokes, glancing at the water dripping onto her floor. 

"I wish. Cyno kicked me off the boat. Literally." Kaveh shivers at the memory, pulling at his wet clothes. "Seriously! He's acting like a Pyro Fungi! He's been acting like a prick ever since he heard the news!"

She doesn't say anything in response, only nodding at him to continue. And continue Kaveh will. He has a lot to say. But perhaps more to think about.

"I know Cyno is just doing his job," Kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Confidentiality I get, but he didn't have to dismiss me like that. I'm worried. The dude I live with just got arrested for murder. I think being disturbed since I live with said person is not overreacting."

"So you think he did it?" she queries softly. So softly that Kaveh would have missed it if he couldn't see her mouth move. "You think that Al Haitham is a murderer?"

"I- no, that's not it," Kaveh cups his hands around the warm mug. "I don't know. This is just- I don't know."

And that's the big question, isn't it? The question he's been avoiding. 

Al Haitham is a machine. He's logical to a fault. He takes a situation, analyses it, finds the best course of action and carries it out. He cuts out all the emotional aspects of a situation unless he can use it to his advantage- something Kaveh hates about him. He doesn't care about the feelings of others- something Kaveh hates even more about him.

With all this being said, is it that much of a stretch that Al Haitham may kill someone to accomplish a goal? Kaveh can see it- Al Haitham, taking his blade and piercing it into someone's chest. In Kaveh's mind, Al Haitham doesn't hesitate. He doesn't look back. He doesn't think about what he had just done, only what happens next.

"...aveh. Kaveh!" 

"Yes!" Kaveh jerks in his seat. "Sorry, what were you saying again?"

"No, I wasn't...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she fiddles with her fingers. She doesn't meet Kaveh's gaze. "I didn't mean to ask that. You must be exhausted."

"I am," Kaveh slumps back into his seat. The towel is doing wonders to absorb the water on him. He'll be dry in no time. "Conflicted and tired. And..."

Hurt. 

Kaveh is hurt. 

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, a part of him- a much younger, naive and carefree Kaveh who knew the stoic, pensive Al Haitham before the fall out- still believes that his friend (or at least, the friend he knew) is still somewhere in there. Past all the arguments, the passive-aggressive taunts, the lock-outs, Kaveh knows that Al Haitham isn't the machine that he makes him out to be.

But he can't take that leap of faith and trust that he's innocent. He and Al Haitham are too far gone for that. Well, not so far gone that they don't talk or are totally incapable of living together, but still not close enough. Not on the level they used to be, where Kaveh would have believed anything that came out of Al Haitham's mouth. Whatever semblance of friendship they have now is not enough for Kaveh to convince himself that Al Haitham won't go and kill a person. It's not enough. But it could have been. It should have been. And that's what hurts the most.

Call Kaveh a dreamer. A brightsider. A hopeless hoper, if you will. But this fool had believed that one day, in the not-so-distant future, they would somehow make amends and return to the two friends they used to be in the Akademiya. They would joke, share ideas, and not let a difference in ideals come between them. Kaveh had been waiting for a day like that. Kaveh had truly believed that a day like that would come. But now it won't. Al Haitham had gone and butchered someone for Archon knows what reason, and with that, slain whatever hope Kaveh had of getting his old friend back.

Join the Taglist!

@sh3wholiv3s @simpcreator @confusedparticle @quintessentialdreaming @icedlemontea03 @levisbebe @anxious-piece-of-bread @confused-red-head @yukina-otome @tigerpriestess @euniscorn @herbal-tea-and-manga @shikamiru @aira-needs-sleep @bubblydumpling @amiiboabeebo @ayanokomu @problematicthinker @dainsleif-when-playable @ophelia-ophelian @ecxhanadi

[carionto]

I heard in the canteen that the humans once used a few antique combustion engines to start one of their portable stars. Any truth to the rumor?

Ah jeez, that was one hell of a day for that guy.

Yes and no. Where do I even being...

Okay. So this place up in Greenland called, uh... I'm gonna butcher this so bad, Hjeilhornhentrotnenheim, has an engineering museum, right? Right, and the guy in charge, his name is, ah fuck this is gonna be bad too ..., Hansinguaq Bjerresvontsgaardsen (I'm just gonna call him Hans from now on because uh yeah, no), collects all the things not fit for display in his personal transport ship. He's essentially converted it into his private mobile museum.

Not long after we established diplomatic channels and preliminary trade routes, Hans eagerly went off on his own to visit Alien equivalents to museums and such. Spent a solid three weeks traveling, sight-seeing, and adding things to his collection.

During a stop on the outer reaches of Coalition space his computer blue screened and forcibly shut down the reactor and pretty much wiped his communication array address book among other less relevant components. And no, I have no clue why he went so far out. He's 46, midlife crisis is my guess, telling him to go out on daring adventures or whatever. Anyway, he couldn't restart the fusion reactor while the inhibitor rod chambers were open, they open and shoot out the star canceler in an emergency shutdown, but one was stuck with the rod half-way in, so Hans had to manually open the reactor and fix it by hand.

Problem is, his transport ship, the Veritable Greenhorn, is fairly big, and the reactor's outer diameter was about 37 meters. Even in zero-g that's a lot of mass for one person to move, not to mention how much force you'd need to pry out a hyper dense metal alloy rod from a gate meant to withstand the pressure of a star right next to it. But he did have a lot mechanical power at his disposal, it just needed to be... rearranged.

Now, he did have backup generators that quietly hum in the background like on every Human vessel, but these are passive and nowhere near enough to charge the hyperdrive even if he could tell it where to go, let alone power machinery to counter a thousand ton jammed deadbolt. He needed something that had a kick to it, something you could really rev beyond its limits just long enough. He needed his V6s and V8s.

After almost two days of DIY engineering details I won't bore you with because I fell asleep when he explained them himself, Hans fired up the engines. It was a very tedious five hours of the engines rythmically tugging the deadbolt a tenth of a milimeter open and what is basically a massive jackhammer pummeling the rod back in. At one point he ran out of gas and was forced to sacrifice his alcohol collection.

Suffice to say it barely worked, all of the machinery he cobbled together became practically unusable, but it worked and he was able to restart the fusion reactor.

Oh, he didn't come home or anything by the way. Like I guess, midlife crisis. If anything, success has made him think nothing can get in the way of his Galactic exploration quest.

So that's the story. No, he didn't use combustion engines to start the reactor or anything, but lacking any other means to fix a problem I honestly didn't know could happen, the petrol guzzlers gave him the right kind of horsepower.

By the way, if you get a chance to tour the Veritable Greenhorn, I'd recommend it. I can't even begin to describe how that contraption looks, it's one of the main displays. I guarantee it's the most specific purpose built and rough pieces of Human engineering you will ever see.

[nero-vanderwolf]

Yuuki Mishima was a liar, through and through.

There were truths scattered into his lies, yes. The Phantom Thieves were incredible, and he owed them everything. Those were truths. He liked Akira and Ryuji. Those were truths.

But what weren’t truths... The lies outweighed them all.

He was fine. He didn’t need help. Everything was okay, don’t worry.

Lies. Lies and deception. Yet somehow, no one ever questioned it. Before Kamoshida’s heart had been changed, he had been told by everyone he was a terrible liar. Every emotion, every thought, was written on his face. It was as though he had donned a mask, hiding his real face. His real self.

When had he gotten to the train station?

It seemed more and more frequent that he lost entire chunks of time to his own thoughts. It was unsettling, how often he found blanks in his memory when he knew there ought to have been something there. Nevertheless, he took a breath.

Trains had always fascinated him, ever since that accident back in spring. It intrigued him how easily destruction could be wrought by a machine, how easily one’s life could be cut short.

How did it feel to suffer a mental shutdown? Was it painful? Did the victims know what was happening to them?

What did they think of in their last moments?

“Yuuki! You good, man?”

Ryuji’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. Once again, he found himself losing chunks of time to himself.

“I’m okay. What’s up?” Mishima forced himself to answer, wrenching his gaze away from the tracks.

“You were just sorta... Standin’ there. You looked like... Eh, never mind. Hey, wanna come over to LeBlanc with me? The others’ll be there.”

Mishima pretended not to feel sick. He knew what Ryuji was about to say.

He looked like he was about to walk onto the tracks.

“Sure, yeah. We can go to LeBlanc together. Sounds like fun,” he answered, glad at least that he didn’t have to go home.

Ryuji grinned, grabbing Mishima’s hand and leading him onto the train. Mishima pretended not to notice the way Ryuji seemed to almost hug him when they climbed on.

It was loud at LeBlanc.

Every Phantom Thief was there, chatting and laughing.

Mishima silently sat in the farthest booth, reserved and quiet. He didn’t belong there with them, with this tight-knit group of friends. He was just support, a figure in the shadows. He wasn’t a Phantom Thief. Just a Phan-Boy.

He could pretend all he wanted that he was one of them, that everyone appreciated him and his work. But he knew they were their own group, and he was on his own. He would always be on his own.

“Hey, kid. Want something to drink?” A man asked. Mishima looked up from the table, nodding.

“Uh, sure. What do you have?”

“Water and coffee. We also got curry, if you’re hungry,” the man said, and Mishima sighed quietly.

“Coffee, please. Any kind, I don’t mind,” he replied, and the man nodded, disappearing behind the counter ro work.

The Thieves took no notice of him, content to simply continue talking among themselves. Mishima was content to stick to himself.

He sighed. He would always be by himself, though he didn’t think he entirely minded.

No, he decided. He didn’t mind being alone.

THE MISHI!!!! love the way he has this theme of lies. putting on a false self. he is the moon arcana after all, a card of deception and masking your true face. he looks down on himself because he thinks he's not as important as the phantom thieves. they do so much more than him and he's just a fan. he cant do anything to help. all hes doing is making a website to spread the love for them. he's nothing compared to them because its not like he can go into the metaverse like them. GOD GIVE HIM A PERSONA RIGHT NOW!!!! AND MAKE HIM STOP COMPARING HIS WORTH TO OTHERS!!!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for 'Breaking up' with a friend?

This is going to be a loooong post so buckle up. I have been friends with this person, who I will refer to as Bread, since 2017. They were pretty much my only close friend beside my sister(Who i will call Gamer, she is important later on) but also i always found them kinda annoying, but I never said anything because i would have to see them in school everyday and it would be too awkward. So right before my school shutdown for Covid, like on the last day, I (basically) said "I don't want to be friends with you anymore." I however continued to be their friend because they acted as if nothing had happened and honestly it took me a lot of courage to say the first thing to their face anyways. This is the end to the first chapter in our story.

So skip a few months in which we have no school. When online school starts we did it on google hangouts, and i found a way to reconnect with my school friends, i.e Bread and two other people who will become VERY important to the story. These two people who i befriend i will call Sprite and Pepsi. Sprite and Pepsi are currently two of my best friends, however Bread has had a long running history of issues with Pepsi. Mainly they set these aside for the good of the friend group. I introduce the three of them to one of my outer school friend, who is slightly older than us and therefore i will call Mentor(who actually has a tumblr so if you see this, by now you know this is me so keep scrolling.) The six of us become very good friends(for those who need a reminder, that's me, Gamer(my sister), Bread, Pepsi, Sprite, and Mentor. Cue 2021, the friend group now all uses discord and I have been invited into a side group chat, titled something along the lines of 'plans to remove Bread from the friend group.' Now, during this time skip i have mentioned a few incidents have occurred. 1) Gamer and I have gotten in heated arguments with Bread over silly things, them being really rude about Sprite's art, them not liking a documentary I recommended, several incidents where they 'introduced' us to their online friends who was just them on an alt account. Anyway, back to the group chat. I am filled in on even MORE discourse between Sprite, Pepsi, and Bread. I don't really remember any of it know and the gc has been long since deleted. We talk shit about them behind their back while also pretending to be their friend(this is partly the asshole part because we did this A LOT.) During this time Sprite is our double agent, being the person Bread always rants and vents too, despite Sprite discouraging it. During this time somthing very childish happens that i am honestly embarrased to type, so i will skip it, occurs, acting as the catalyst for all of us breaking our friendship with Bread in favor of Pepsi. During this event many hurtful words were said, mainly aimed at Bread(to their face this time.) Our break in friendship, however, does not last long, as right after we(Me and gamer) are added to a groupchat where Sprite tells us that they were a double double agent and was on NO ONE's side during this entire thing and also kind of telling Bread what was going on. They explain that this friendship stuff is dumb, and we all become friends once more (including Bread and Pepsi.) Things continue as normal. This is the end of chapter two

School reopens. I am in a class with Bread and no other friends. Each day my resentment for Bread grows. (Also a quick context for our school, Bread, Pepsi, and Sprite all use the same bus. Me and Gamer do not. Mentor does not go to our school. Many events transpired on the school bus that i am not fully aware of.) At this point I fucking DESPISE Bread. Its lots of small incidents, that i never addressed with them. Them being too touchy, invading my private space, not understanding that WHEN I PUT MY HEAD DOWN THAT MEANS I AM TRYING TO SLEEP SO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT POKE ME. At this point all of my friends and I use insta, as me and gamer have just gotten it, instead of Discord. My friends never used discord much, so now, I start talking to my friends more. Pepsi and Sprite start filling me in on more and more of Breads misdeeds. It is revealed to me how pushy Bread is, how they ignore peoples boundary's, etc, and how practically everyone in our grade fucking hates them. This is news to me. I start cutting Bread out more and more. The shit talking behind their back returns, but this time with a vengeance. This time more people are involved. This time, the friend group is larger. This time, the exclusion Bread faces is on a larger scale. It is 2023 now. I barely talk to Bread. Their friendship with Pepsi is entirely down, they had a big friendship over haul that i have not gotten into, but we're still friends, only in name, for Mentor. Anyway, I use Pepsi as a human shield. Bread will avoid us if we are near Pepsi, and wont come to a group event if Pepsi is there. Life is great, because i no longer have to deal with Bread and their bullshit.

Now i come to the final part. The actual breaking up. Bread has confronted me a few months prior about how i avoid them. I weave my way around the topic of saying I hate them because i am very non confrontational. But now, I have confidence. I just finished hanging out with my friends. Its the middle of the holidays so i can send them a message via discord and not have to think of consequences. So i do. I tell them that I don't like them. I don't exactly outline the problems, but I do tell them this has been a long tome coming. Now, comes the reasons why i could be an asshole.

One, I have been 'soft blocking' Bread for a long time before this and i should have done it ages ago. Two, They have literally no other friends now. They are entering a new school year completely friendless, and i cant completely say its their own fault. Three, Most of what I have heard about their wrong doing is passed down from mouth to mouth, so details may have been twisted and I should just confront them about it instead. Four. As their only friend, it was kinda my job to help them, isn't it? but i didnt . I just abandoned them as soon as i got fed up. Five, even when i was genuinely their friend, i was a really shitty friend, refusing to take their side in any conflict that arised. Six, Bread acts like a genuinely nice person that i don't mind hanging out with in person, its just certain things, and the way they act with others and online that pushed me to this point.

So thats it, thats my story. A few helpful things to keep in mind: This is only an abridged version of events. I will be answering any questions i can on a throwaway account to clear up any confusion, and also add more detail on what exactly Bread has done wrong. Also we are all under 18 in this story and currently, so please keep this in mind. I don't think i did anything wrong but also i am surrounded in an echo chamber of people that hate them so i need an outside view to really understand how bad of a person Bread is. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, and I hope this was, at least, entertaining to you.

What are these acronyms?

[andtheyreonfire]

at the end of every tether

Ao3

WC: 3070

AN: hbd @sizediscount !!!! i got you a serial killer <3 for G/t July, Day 19: Out of reach.

~

Ren’s never actually seen what cognitive rulers do when he’s not fighting them.

He’d assume they’d despawn, like a boss they haven’t hit the cutscene trigger for yet. But Futaba points out their constant presence during every infiltration. They seem more like puppets, than anything. A mouthpiece regurgitating their owner’s fucked-up ideals. A chipped piece of grey matter that wandered around, aimlessly, until it decided to kick the Thieves’ ass.

It was a consideration, that they would just sit on their fancy little throne like the ruler they were, seemingly alone in their corrupted little corner of heart. Ren didn’t think he’d be right.

Ren also didn’t think he’d confirm this by being locked in a massive, golden birdcage, eye-level with the absolutely oversized ruler of Akechi Goro’s palace.

Akechi’s palace seemed a maze of sharp corners and dead ends. Ren’s third eye was only good for uncovering the non-lethal, annoying traps, and Futaba’s Persona was only good for leading them around in a circle. It was a long, tense few hours until they found their way into something that seemed like a next room—

Before it was revealed that their hours of struggle took place in a literal rat maze, located near in the middle of an absolutely titanic castle. And, while the majority of Shadows were normal-sized and scurrying around like rats, there was one, massive problem they could hear stomping in the background.

Ren didn’t realize Akechi’s cognition was stalking them until it was too late. Until his current party was downed, him included. Until genuine fear was singing through his veins, watching the cognition shrug off his remaining teammates like mosquitoes. Until his mouth was already forming the words, wait, please, don’t hurt them, take me instead—

“I’m not one for consolation prizes,” Akechi’s cognition had boomed, Ren craning his neck up, up, up, just to see past his crouched knees. Before he could even flinch, a massive, gloved hand filled his vision, Akechi’s warped face regarding him with a possession he’s never seen on him in his life. “Though, who am I to deny ownership of a new toy?”

Really, Ren should’ve known something was up the second they confirmed Akechi’s third keyword as beanstalk.

And now, Ren sits, cross-legged and cross-armed in a birdcage larger than his room. He is, by all accounts, the human thief from Jack’s fairy tale, and Akechi’s brain is going to grind his bones to make his bread. Perfect. Just perfect.

At least his teammates are safe, with plans and plans to rescue Ren and reunite. And, considering the way Ren screamed after the cognition had tossed him up into the air like a pebble, probably planning a cognitive shutdown upon their return.

It’s not like they hadn’t discussed it, between questions of why, why, why. Why here? Why now? Why Akechi? Why was Ren so quiet as they discussed the very valid option of letting his mind decay—

A massive, cold shadow blocks out the light. Without seeing its owner, Ren scrambles back, his spine hitting the gold bars of the cage. A part of him doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to see the face of the boy he played billiards with looming above him like a skyscraper. So, Ren doesn’t. It’s a perfect, fool-proof strategy—

Up until the cognition’s voice crackles through the air like distant thunder, “Hm. Bored, now.”

Ren’s eyes snap up, just in time to see a massive, stupidly fast hand reach in the cage. Ren doesn’t even have time to get his feet under him before it wraps around his body, and yanks him out like a child’s doll.

Ren isn’t thinking about the fact that there’s nothing between him in the floor except the cognition’s hand, it squeezing his arms to his side and curling a pinkie under his legs. Ren isn’t thinking about his face looming above him, nor that the eyes locked onto his body are larger than his head. He certainly isn’t thinking about all the things the giant could do to him, nor the realization that, after everything, this might be the first time Ren would need a revival bead—

The cognition flops back against his throne, kicking his feet up against a building-sized ottoman. As if remembering the thief in his grip, he brings Ren to his face. Ren stalwartly refuses to look at him, squeezing his eyes shut, even as this Akechi chuckles and brushes a thumb against his head. There have been many palaces Ren disliked but this one he thinks he truly hates—

“I know I’m a lot to take in,” The cognition purrs—that’s not right, some part of Ren’s brain manages, only stopping himself from panicking by a thread. “But you don’t have to hide. It’s not like you haven’t seen more than my face.”

The soft pad of a glove prods against Ren’s face. He sputters, squirms, but eventually the cognition pins his head between his thumb and the side of his finger. Ren can only shudder as it pushes his mask right off his face.

Ren’s pulse spikes. He creaks his eyes open, only to squeeze them shut as the cognition’s finger fills his vision. It hovers too close for his eyes to focus, a padded glove brushing against his forehead and—brushing the hair out of his eyes?

Because he’s always been an idiot when it came to Akechi, Ren opens his eyes.

The cognition stares back. “There we are.” He smiles, and the stretch of his face is one too many things to focus on, because— “There’s that pretty face of yours.”

Ren’s cheeks burn, heart hammering in his chest. Instead of addressing anything, he takes in the—expanse of the cognition’s body. He appears to be nothing more than an oversized facsimile of Loki. He wears a striped, band-like jacket. The patterns fade and curve in a way Ren can’t follow, not against the length of his massive arm. Minus the searing bright gold of his eyes, the cognition looks human—aside, of course, from the red horns jutting from his forehead like streetlamps, his absurd height, and—are those fangs—?

Akechi’s cognition is grinning down at Ren with fangs longer than his hand. Ren is utterly trapped, probably barely bigger than the thumb of the giant holding him. Ren is trying not to process the last sentence the cognition breathed into this world. After everything, he barely catches his low murmur, “I thought you’d be more entertaining than the shadows scurrying around here. I wonder, would you scream as well as them?”

Every ounce of blood drains out of Ren’s body. The cognition’s eyes crinkle in delight. Latching onto the conversation topic—and knowing that he probably would, and every bit of Akechi’s psyche would love it—Ren says, “Do the shadows here not worship you?”

The cognition hums, the sound reverberating through Ren’s chest like a bass. “Oh, they should—but, no. I’m the only thing that deserves power, around here. They’re nothing more than distractions.”

Ren fights the urge to shudder, remembering peeking into a room with the cognition in it, watching him idly dispose of a group that would overwhelm the thieves with just a few, white-hot blasts of energy.

He’s distracted enough he almost doesn’t register the words vibrating through his core. “Goro-kun’s cognition only allows for one person in power, I’m afraid.”

Ren blinks. His mouth feels, suddenly, dry. He tries to read the cognition’s face, even just the few feet in front of him, but all he can read is the same, vague satisfaction. “You know?”

“Everything, yes,” The cognition says, and he says it so assuredly Ren feels the urge to believe him.

“That you’re not real?”

The cognition seems to start, at that. He pulls Ren closer, higher, holding him above his towering face. And, without even a twitch as warning, he lets go.

Ren falls, wind whipping through his coat and his hair and, suddenly, the surface of not-Akechi’s lap seems more like it’ll break his legs than anything. And, suddenly, Ren’s voice is escaping him in an involuntarily scream, Akechi’s body shooting past him and the ground rushing closer and—

Idly, lazily, the cognition’s other hand catches him. Ren lands with an oof in the massive palm, less than a couple meters away from a bone-breaking fall. Instinctively, to assess the threat before him, Ren looks up.

He has to crane his neck back to see the cognition’s face, the way his fangs gleam in the light of his throne room as he asks, “Does this seem fake to you?”

Ren can barely form words, more focused on taking shallow, even breaths. Thankfully, the cognition beats him to the chase. “Goro-kun’s known the rules of the Metaverse since he was fifteen. If he hadn’t already awakened, I’m what would be his Persona. Since he’s awakened several, was a Cognitive Pscience guinea pig, this that and the third, I’ve known I’m a cognition since the moment these palace walls formed.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ren croaks.

The cognition shrugs, bringing Ren up a closer to the billboard of his face. “We have a compulsion to tell the truth. Besides, you’ve always been a great listener.” He smiles, a little less sharp. “I’m sure you have more questions. Ask away.”

Ren figures he doesn’t have much to lose, so he tries, “Can you let me go?”

The shadow laughs, a sharp, painful bark that leaves Ren clutching his ears. He says, in the same tone Akechi would use when Ren would risk everything to do a ridiculous trick shot, “Be serious. You’re trying to steal my heart, are you not?”

Wary of the shadow’s fingers hovering around him, Ren tries, “Does Akechi not want us to change his heart?”

“Every ruler wants someone to change their heart.” The cognition rests his head on his hand, eyes flicking up to the ceiling. “It’s why there’s always a route to the treasure—or a route to a bullet in their head. Subconsciously, humans will always desire help. Goro-kun will scream and cry and bite once you send him that calling card, but, in the end, he’ll be a changed man and everything will work out fine.”

He draws out the final syllable. His fingers twitch towards Ren, and Ren hasn’t missed a warning since Kamoshida’s castle. “Do you have anything more interesting to ask?”

Ren swallows. Well, he has time, and if the cognition’s being honest... “Are you going to hurt me?”

The cognition peers down at him, the glow of his eyes nearly blinding, “Hasn’t Goro-kun already done enough?”

Ren remembers February, December, November. Ren can also see what’s looming within arm’s reach, “Then why am I in the palm of your hand?”

“Why change the heart of every person you come across? Why surround yourself with friends willing to die for you? Why use my life as a bargaining chip during that February?” The cognition pokes him in the side. Ren flinches. “Do you know how easy it would be to take advantage of your size? Goro-kun’s never truly had power over you, but I do. And what can you do about it?”

“Stop you,” Ren breathes, like a mantra, “We’re going to fix this, we’re going to save you—“

“You’re so cute,” The cognition says, like he’s baby-talking a kitten. “I could hurt you, if I want to state the obvious. But, I think it’d only break Goro-kun’s distorted heart if I killed the boy he loves.”

The air in Ren’s lungs goes cold. A beat passes. Two. Eventually, he manages to stutter out, “I’m sorry?”

The cognition searches his face, eyes gleaming like a spotlight, before fanged lips curl into a smile. “Aw, you didn’t know? It really didn’t take a detective. You were his only companion, why wouldn’t he develop a puppy crush?” Ren can’t quite convince himself he’s lying, can’t quite pull air into his lungs before he rumbles, “You weren’t there for the dozens of unsent date invites, the Wikipedia pages he read just to impress you, and, oh, the way he threw up that curry you made for him when he killed you—“

“Stop it—“ Ren tries, tries, tries. “Let me go—“

“He needed you, and he couldn’t stand it.” The cognition lifted him up, running a finger down his side, his touch gentle. “He had to push you away, you see? Push himself into nothingness, find the magic beans that would help him repent, but also forget you.” Ren squirms, grunts, but massive fingers press against him back, hold him still as the cognition pets him. “He failed, if it wasn’t obvious. He thought of you every night, until his heart became corrupted, and his desires swelled his perception of himself into me. Don’t flatter yourself, truly, it wasn’t only because of you—with everything that’s happened to him, it’s a miracle it didn’t distort sooner.”

“You’re—“ Hurting him, except he wasn’t. The cognition was just petting him and talking to him and Ren wanted to crawl out of his skin. “Stop—“

“And now, I’m here.” Goro hums, finally flipping Ren onto his back, pinning him down with his index finger. Ren struggles against the weight, and only feels the cognition’s breath wash over him in a silent laugh. “I’m here to do what he was too helpless, to small to do. He never wanted to let you go? Then I won’t. He wanted to lock you in a cage, away from anyone else but him? Then I will. He wanted your entire world to narrow to his hands, to pull your life on a string guided by his fingers?” The cognition leans in. Smirks, wide. “Who am I to deny him the privilege?”

Here, an arm’s reach away from his massive face, Ren can tell the cognition is telling the truth. His organs feel too large for his body. He fights the urge to shield himself, to claw out his heart, to plead and beg and ask why didn’t he just tell me—?

It’s not like he wasn’t fond of Akechi, but even if he could make his lips form the word love, he’s sure neither of them would want their relationship to progress like this.

Though, what is this cognition, but twisted desires made real?

“Don’t worry about anything else, okay?” The cognition continues, after Ren’s almost caught his breath. “I’ll take care of everything. If your thieves are smart enough, they won’t come back to us. If not—what’s a few more pests to squash?”

The cognition peers down at him, lips turning up as Ren writhes under his finger. It’s impossibly heavy, crushing the air out of his lungs, the weight of the cognition's words flutter around Ren’s head. His blood-red gloves look so small against the cognition’s digit, and for all of Ren’s Metaverse strength, he doesn’t budge an inch. He probably won’t even be able to save his friends.

“You’re so cute when you squirm,” The cognition says, with a tone like dark chocolate. “Maybe I will keep you around. I have all the treasure I need, right here—“

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing Ren can think to say.

The cognition blinks at him, like a cat watching their prey. Ren licks his lips, wills himself to breathe under the weight of his finger. “I’m sorry we let it get this bad. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were alive until a week ago, that I didn’t do anything to help you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you lo—your feelings until it was too late.”

The finger’s weight lessens, a little. Ren continues, peering up, trying to see if he can pierce through those golden eyes. “I’m going to fix this, Goro. We’re going to save you, I promise.”

The cognition stares at him. Ren recognizes the poker face as the one he’s leveraged to Goro countless times. Gradually, he lifts his finger off Ren’s chest. Ren doesn’t move, lying on his side, waiting for the cognition’s next play.

With the force of a runaway train, the cognition’s fingers snap to Ren’s collar. The surface of the massive palm vanishes. Ren’s legs flail, his hands trying, in vain, to stop his coat from choking him. The cognition pulls him up, until all he can see is his eyes, staring him down like speeding headlights.

“Don’t pretend like this isn’t a game to you and your group of Phantom Thieves, like I haven’t ruined every—“ The cognition cuts himself off, barks out a laugh. “You don’t care about him, you never did. That’s why I’m here, to give him what he’s too cowardly to take.”

“That’s why I’m, here, too,” Ren grunts. He debates kicking out, clipping the edge of the cognition’s nose with his boot, but considering how far off the ground he is—and how close he is to the cognition’s mouth—he thinks better of it. “You think I wouldn’t come all this way if I didn’t care—?”

The cognition stands up in one, fluid movement. Ren can’t help the scream he gives, nor the way his hands claw for purchase against massive fingers. Genuine sweat beads on his forehead. The ground’s so far away—

“I wonder, how your thieves would react to seeing you reduced to a stain?” The cognition stomps forward, fingers steel around Ren’s scruff, even as he kicks and sways. “You seem to forget your place, little thing—“

Static electricity sings through Ren’s veins, adrenaline keeping him struggling, even as the cognition dangles him over a skyscraper-sized drop. “Goro—“

The slam of the cognition opening the cage is the only thing Ren can register, before he sends him flying through the air. His side hits the gilded floor, sliding across it like an abandoned toy.

“Fe, fi, fo, fum. I smell the blood of a lying thief.” Ren cranes his neck up just in time to see the cognition slam the door closed. He glares down at him, his shadow blocking out the light, and Ren’s never quite felt so small. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

With that, the cognition stomps away. He settles down into that massive throne, ignoring Ren like he truly is just some pet in a cage. Ren’s hands swelter. This sucks. This sucks, and yet…

All he can do is sit back, wait for his thieves, and hope that, after they change Goro’s heart, making things right isn’t too out of reach..

[triptychofvoids]

Hey, hey sunshine, considering how many cute sketches with a Medic you draw for people

Can I ask a question to a Medic from your headcannons?

Mr. Medic, what was the first reaction of Heavy to your autism? Did he notice sensory overload or other signs of autism not characteristic of neurotypical people? (may the author forgive me for such stupid questions ":D)

from very near the beginning most of the mercs would know something is a bit different about him, it would be fairly obvious if youre paying enough attention. medic wouldnt really mask very much (if at all) so other people would pick up on something eventually.

the rest under the cut because. this got a bit longer than intended ^^;

when medic makes eye contact its either all or nothing, hes either staring into your soul the whole time or he isnt looking at your face at all. hes more than happy to talk for hours on end about what he wants to talk about and doesnt really notice that he hasnt given the other person a chance to speak for the past 40 minutes. he doesnt really hide his stims (with a few exceptions) so it wouldnt be uncommon to see him rocking in his seat even if only a little or wringing his hands or waving them around when hes excited or anything like that. hes openly very picky about certain foods and drinks. ive already mentioned him having very low empathy. he tends to already be fairly quick to annoyance and anger but nothing pushes him over the edge like hearing sounds out in the common areas of the base while hes trying to sleep or focus on something and hes gotten into more than one argument trying to get whichever merc is out there being loud to be quiet. etc etc etc i could go on.

but at first even though a lot of this would be noticed by the other mercs many of them would just assume its because hes a little weird and eccentric or something, but eventually each of them would probably get their chance to learn more about it or possibly be forced to learn about it if the situation called for it.

now to finally get to heavy xD

he would have noticed many of these traits and like some of the others just brushed it off as medic being a bit weird at first, but i think hed get his first realization moment the first time that medic has a shutdown in front of him (hed have meltdowns too but hed be more prone to shutdown. it does depend on the situation though). maybe they had a really tough battle that day, medic maybe loses a glove and gets some clothes ripped or something, everyones dying everyones getting hurt even more and worse than usual, its completely awful the entire time and medic starts getting sensory overload but has to keep going until they finish the battle obviously. anyway maybe they actually manage to pull off the win somehow and when heavy goes to congratulate medic, hes unresponsive. not completely unresponsive but hes walking around avoiding touching or even standing too close to everything and everyone, he hasnt said a single word since the battle ended (and come to think of it, he had been talking less and less as the battle progressed), any of his usual over the top expressiveness is completely gone. heavy tries to figure out whats wrong but all his questions are met with a blank stare and medic more or less trying to get away from him. so heavy is thinking this is awful,, something broke doktor,, but, look, heavy is a smart man ok?

hed figure out that medic clearly isnt in the mood for talking so hed instead try short yes and no questions in his usual quiet and caring way. are you injured? are you angry with someone? do you want to be alone? can i help? and medic maybe answers with a small head shake or a little hum of affirmation, which takes a lot of energy and he wants nothing more than to collapse right there on the floor, but if it means heavy will be able to understand whats going on and it will get him the best outcome as fast as possible then he tries his best. heavy doesnt really know exactly whats going on but he works out that the poor guy just needs to be alone for a while so he helps escort him to his room or the infirmary or wherever he leads and helps keep everyone else away from him. once they get there heavy stands outside and waits because he realizes that anyone coming in there to bother medic is definitely one of the worst things that could happen at that moment, and he does it without asking.

it would take several hours because it takes medic about an hour of sitting in a quiet corner to even recover enough to clean himself up from the battle, and after that he collapses on any flat surface he can find that isnt the floor to take a nap, and once he wakes up from that he spends a bit of time quietly interacting with his birds or organizing some medical equipment before finally he goes to find heavy and is pleasantly surprised to find him essentially guarding the door. at that point he answers any of heavys questions, explains autism to him as best as he can and in detail, lists exactly what caused the problem that day, exactly what some of his traits are, explains exactly what to do if something like this happens again in the future. etc. so after that heavy would connect the dots between this and some of medics other traits and would have a better understanding of it and do everything he can to support medic if needed and umm yeah :]!!!!

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.50 Be a man about it

Another overcast morning darkened my room, causing me to look at my phone to see the time. I tried to sleep in, but I always woke up at the same time every day. I didn't hear many cars speeding past our house, so I figured school was still out and offices were closed and gave myself a day off too. No one would likely be at the spa anyway after gorging themselves with turkey and holiday goodness. Besides, they had rude girl now. I closed my eyes and attempted to return to my dreams, but the sounds of Dad opening and closing doors and shower water striking the tub interrupted me. Soon, he'd turn the TV on, so I gave up and got out of bed.

I had such a nice chill spot in my room and never used it, so I sat on the couch and thought about what to do with my free day. All week, I thought of my sister and aimed to call her, only to be distracted by everything. With nothing to steal my attention, I called her on SimTime before life invariably threw something else at me. It was so good to see her face. I didn't fully realize how much I missed her until I saw her bright blue eyes and heard the sass in her voice. But to my surprise, she didn't look happy, and my big brother alarm system booted up.

She said she didn't like the family she lived with because she felt like they were always talking about her. I let out a tiny sigh of relief because, honestly, she always felt like someone was talking about her, so this was the status quo for dear Less. I imagined not speaking the language increased her paranoia, and for that I sympathized with her. But despite her issues with the family, she said she's still happy to be in Mt. Komorebi, and that was all I needed to hear to initiate the shutdown protocol. Life was not without its trials, so I didn't expect she'd go over there and live in a bed of roses. She went to find happiness, and as long as she remained happy, I was good.

I rarely had idle time, but when I did, my mind often drifted to Sophia, and that morning was no different. No matter what I did or who I was with, she always lived somewhere in the periphery. I missed her so much and owed her a date as well. I sighed and sank into the couch, running my hand through my hair and wondering what was wrong with me. I had this gorgeous woman who waited patiently for me to get my shit together. She was the only one who wanted what I wanted, yet I spent more time cultivating relationships that went nowhere. At the time, it made sense to me. But now, it all seemed kind of pointless, especially after getting clarity about what they all wanted.

When I was in high school, Mama told me something I never forgot. Two things, in fact. She said to be honest about how I felt, and to find someone I could not live without, and I'd been trying to do that ever since. Despite my thoughts and what I've done, the honest truth was this. No matter who I met, no matter what I did, my thoughts were always on Sophia. And when I thought of her, my sentiments were always long term. That clearly sounded like someone I could not live without. It's just like what they said: the heart wants what the heart wants. But I behaved like a scared little boy, hiding from the monsters under his bed. I already felt like I was behind in life, and I didn't need anything else stunting my growth. It was time for me to overcome my fears and create the life I truly desired. I didn't have to jump into a relationship right away, but I needed to accept that I had already found what I wanted, quit messing around with my other friends, and let Sophia know what she meant to me.

After thinking of ways to convey this message without making it sound like a proposal or even asking her to be my girlfriend, I decided to take her to dinner at the fanciest restaurant I could find and spent the next few hours scouring the Internet for locations and reading menus and reviews. Yasmine called during all of this and asked me out again.

Memories of her bouncing boobs danced in my head again, tempting me to accept. Sophia didn't know what I had planned, so I could cancel without penalty and get an encore of the other night. But I didn't want to. I owed Sophia my time, and I wanted her to have it. And as anxious as I was to woohoo again, I was reluctant to risk losing her for a few hours of fun with someone who didn't care about me. Besides, at some point, woohoo will be an option for us, and it will be a thousand times better because I... Because we cared for each other. I sincerely appreciated our night together and would never forget Yasmine because of it. But frankly, I didn't need her anymore. When the time was right, I'll find a way to let her know.

[itashiro-hitsuchiha]

My thoughts on the shutdown of RT by Warner and on RWBY

Read on if you wish.

Ok so there's a good bit of things for me to say on this matter. Normally I don't do personal posts a whole lot like this but I want to express my thoughts on the matter. I will disclaim that this is a matter of opinion based on my understanding of the situation and I will explain more on certain subjects when I get to it. This is more of my inclination towards RWBY as a series than anything else.

So let's start with the short and simple part of my thoughts on it. It does suck that the company is shutting down mostly for the workers involved. As I understand from secondhand knowledge and statements by other onlookers that the company leadership has made very poor decisions with their franchises, both in writing direction and with treatment of the staff and also consumers. I can't say much more on that front as I will admit I haven't looked into it much and I haven't delved into that matter too much either so that's about all I have to say with that.

Onto the thoughts/feelings on RWBY. Now I enjoy RWBY as a franchise and series to a degree. I know lots of people have issues with how the show's writing became after some points in the series, myself included, but I remain hopeful. Warner still tried to do stuff with RWBY by aligning it with DC comics for crossovers. I haven't watched the two crossover films but I do intend to check them out despite what others say. I am more driven by curiosity with the show than much else. I won't sing it's praises nor will I bash the hell out of it. I get my initial impressions then I gauge what others think and adjust based on what I may or may not agree with after giving much thought on it.

My opinions on things can change drastically. One example which I will use as a somewhat loose comparison, is with Star Wars. I love the world of Star Wars and I always have since I was a kid. I was excited for the sequel trilogy and gave it a go. Force Awakens was an ok start, nothing spectacular, but its problems were showing but they still had time to pivot and correct these errors with the next two movies. The Last Jedi came out. I watched it and was at least entertained on the first watch. Then I saw the discourse erupt in the fandom. So I was curious to what made people so mad. I looked at a lot of writing critiques of the movie by fans of the series. Then I saw the behind the scenes things going on and it changed my view. At first I liked TLJ but that opinion quickly fell into greatly disliking it. I didn't even want to see Rise of Skywalker based on rumors of the plot of the movie. Mostly the ending. But I still watched it just to finish what I started. Even though I disliked it heavily and never touched that trilogy again.

What's this have to do with RWBY? Well it's the same thing for me. I started watching with a friend who was into it. I got into it. And for the most part I enjoyed it. After the fiasco with Star Wars I refrained from giving full opinions until after viewing the show or movie and thinking about it after. I also look into viewpoints of others to see what people liked and didn't like and see if I agreed or not. I seek to understand what turned people away and what made others stay. While I don't agree with everything others list I at least understand why they think about it the way they do. But in the end even if I agree with them I still want to see where it ends. I want to finish what I started. I can understand other people leaving the show after a certain point and not coming back out of outrage or disinterest. But I enjoyed the show at first and even if the ending is dog shit, much like with the Sequel trilogy, I will stay on this ride until it ends.

Now onto extra thoughts. So I did read the article explaining the closing of RT and based on my understanding, Warner may still be looking to complete the series they have, even if its just to milk what they can out of it, at the very least the final season of Red vs Blue is confirmed to happen. I haven't seen anything regarding the state of RWBY but I remain optimistic and hope they will keep most of the hardworking team (the ones that make the show happen and not the dumbasses who mistreat them) and treat them fairly so they can end the series on at least a decent note. There's no undoing what they've done at this point and it's naive to expect one or possibly two final season(s) to fix it. But they can at least try to give it a respectful ending. It is optimistic and it may be a long shot or very unlikely but even so I want to see what they do.

Hopefully this is clear enough in my thoughts and opinions on this matter. I haven't stated anything specific to the series in terms of writing but I don't feel it necessary to do so at the moment. Especially since I still need to catch up on it. You may not agree with my viewpoints or reasons for things but that's ok. I just wanted to get my voice out there.