#i've been avoiding the fandom until i could get through it at least once

[purgaytorysupremacy]

off to play baldur's gate 3 to get some words of affirmation from my wizard boyfriend

[kbstanny]

Treatment (Zayne/Reader)

✿ Fandom: Love and Deepspace

✿ Pairing: M/F

✿ Tag: NSFW

✿ Mentions: smut, mild injury mentions

✿ Word count: 5,051

✿ Summary: She had no choice but to see Dr. Zayne for treatment after a Wanderer left her injured, but his cure for her anguish wasn't quite what she had in mind.

✿ A/N: Hey! This my first fic on this website, and it's on a game I only started playing a week ago 😭

Because I'm a new player, I don't really know the world or the story very well, so if there are inaccuracies then you know why. However, I've also avoided specific plot details for this very reason.

I hope you enjoy!

Damned Knave.

She tightly gripped the gash on her thigh, limping her way down the dark deserted path. She'd received reports of disturbances down at the old munitions factory and had gone to investigate. Wanderers had been sighted after hours, so she'd gone late into the evening, and solo, as her ever-elusive partner had been unavailable. She'd handled herself fine, but a rather tricky Knave had managed to cut right through the top of her thigh.

Once she eventually hobbled her way to a street lamp, she could investigate her injuries properly. Shakily, she removed her blood-stained hands from the wound, then hummed — It didn't look too severe. The gash was long, but not so deep, stretching from her inner thigh up toward her hip. The blood made things a lot nastier than they needed to be, and the pain was bearable, at least for now. She'd hail a taxi and treat the damage at home, and if it didn't feel much better by morning, she'd consult her physician. But Dr. Zayne was a last resort.

Once morning came, she did not feel better.

The pain woke her up before her alarm did. It stung intensely, and the surrounding skin was hot and numb. Clearly rubbing alcohol, a cocktail of painkillers and gauze wasn't going to cut it. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage to take a look at her injury — it still didn't seem too bad. Inflamed, a little gnarly, but far from incapacitating. Just painful. But she'd faced foes much fiercer than some stupid Herte Knave, and obtained injuries far more gruesome. For now, she'd suck it up. She had a job to do.

—

"Oh my god!" Tara gasped. "When did that happen?" Her friend asked her, leaning in to the picture on her phone. She'd snapped the pic before getting ready for work this morning, thinking it would be a funny story to tell to Tara at the office. But her friend's reaction was a little more alarmed than she'd anticipated.

"Last night, at the factory. There were some serious beasts down there, but you wanna know caused that? A Knave of all things." She chuckled, shaking her head. Tara didn't look so amused.

"Aren't you hurt? Have you been to the doctor?"

"It's just a scratch, Tara, I'll be fine."

"That is not just a scratch! That needs stitches!—"

"What needs stitches?"

Captain Jenna approached the two, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She had a scrutinising look in her eye, one that said 'Why are you chatting and not working?' It reminded her of her old teachers.

The hunters were silent, looking between each other. She shot Tara a warning look, but Tara ignored it, turning the phone to face Jenna. "This does."

Jenna leaned in, her eyebrows raising, breaking her steely expression. "Why yes, it does... Is this you?" She looked to her, and she sighed softly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes, but I feel fine. I promise. If I didn't, I'd take the day off."

"Have you had it treated?" Jenna cut to the chase.

"...No." She admitted, and Jenna sighed.

"Well go. At once. That could easily get infected." The captain straightened up, her tone commanding. There was no room for negotiation. "Honestly, I thought you'd have more sense than to leave an injury like that unattended." With that, Jenna walked away. She waited until her captain was out of sight before standing and addressing Tara.

"Did you really have to snitch on me?" Though she already knew she would — anything to impress Jenna. Tara gave a sheepish look.

"Well I had to do something! I'm only looking out for you." But she pat Tara's shoulder, shaking her head and smiling.

"I know, I know, you're right... as usual. I really shouldn't ignore it. Thanks Tara." Tara gave a knowing smile.

"I am usually right! Now go and see Zayne. He might be a little scary but he knows what he's doing." They both chuckled at that.

Tara knew what her friend was hesitant to admit: It wasn't that she was ignorant of the risks of open wounds, nor was she a particularly nervous patient. She just didn't want to see Zayne.

Not because the doctor was in any way cruel or unpleasant, he wasn't even scary as such. But the doctor was so cold, and the icy chill of his eyes permeated her core with a mere glance her way. Zayne had been an old forgotten friend, a dear one, but now he was a figurehead for her ailments. All that time they'd spent together as children seemed meaningless now. They couldn't have drifted further apart. Zayne was a bad omen, and a sign her past had been well and truly shattered.

But that was only half of the reason. The other reason, the more embarrassing one, was that she found Zayne stupidly attractive. Not only because he had the face of an angel and a body carved from marble, but for his work ethic, his dedication, his intelligence. And of course, she couldn't help but feel sentimental toward him over the time they'd spent together as kids. She yearned to reconnect with him. He had a potent effect on her. When she was near him, his mere presence was enough to suck the words out of her mouth, to reduce her to a shrinking violet with no resolve. Like a silly teenager with a crush. And that wasn't like her at all. She hated not having control.

She wasn't certain whether the feeling was mutual. There was something about the way that he looked at her, on occasion, that made her heart flare up. Sometimes she thought he had a tenderness to his tone that he just couldn't have used with everyone, but maybe that was wishful thinking? His concern for her health and wellbeing seemed obsessive, too. Never had her previous physicians been so zealous, but Zayne was a renowned surgeon. Perhaps it was just a sign he was good at his job, and nothing more? She didn't know, and she didn't like thinking about it.

With a deep breath, she rapped on the door to his office. With any luck, he'd be busy, and she'd be forced to return to HQ and schedule an appointment the long way.

"Come in." He answered — Damn.

She walked inside, standing by the door with her hands behind her back. Zayne was busy typing away at his computer, and he hadn't even spared her a glance. She hadn't realised she'd been quiet until Zayne spoke up again.

"Can I help you?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, if you're not too busy. I injured myself while dealing with a Wanderer. I was hoping you could take a look."

It was upon hearing her voice that Zayne decided his patient was more interesting than his computer, and he turned to face her, scrutinising her slightly crooked form, and the way she carried her weight. He thought for a moment or two.

"Your left thigh." How did he know that? She looked down, but her injury was completely concealed, and no blood had seeped through her clothes.

"Yes, how did you—"

"What happened exactly? Take a seat." She nodded, heading to sit down on the chair opposite the doctor, but he shook his head.

"Not there. On the examination table."

"Right."

As she sat down, Zayne quickly punched one final sentence into the keyboard, before turning to face her, waiting for her answer.

"It happened yesterday. A Wanderer, as I said." She clarified, and Zayne hummed.

"So the Wanderer attacked you directly? You didn't sustain this injury through any other means during the battle?" She shook her head. Zayne made a note of this on his computer.

"And do you have any other injuries?" She told him no again.

"Alright. I need to examine you, if that's okay."

She nodded, looking down to where her legs were outstretched on the table, before coming to an awkward realisation: She was wearing pants. She couldn't just pull her skirt up, she'd have to strip the item off entirely.

"Yes, of course." She began to fiddle with the button to her pants, before Zayne stiffened, taking the curtain that surrounded the table.

"Tell me when you're ready." With that, he shut the curtain around her. She released a sigh of relief, grateful for the privacy, though she felt a little stupid for not closing it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd compose herself having to undress in front of him.

Once her pants were off, she came to a second mortifying realisation: Her underwear. The item was black and lacy, made from sheer mesh, hardly concealing her delicate areas. The type you'd wear for a lover, and not at all the sort of thing you'd wear to work. But she'd washed all of her more practical undies yesterday, and thanks to one pesky Knave, hadn't found the time to dry them before morning. If she'd known she'd be stripping down in Zayne's office for an examination, she would have stopped off at the shops on her way to work to buy something cheap and appropriate. Hell, she probably would have bought boxer shorts.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath.

What would Zayne think of her? Surely he'd think it was deliberate. She'd approached him for treatment, and she just so happened to be wearing semi-transparent lingerie? There was no way he'd find that coincidental. He'd think she was some sort of pervert. Was it too late to get out of here?

"Are you alright? Or are you struggling to get changed?" Zayne asked from the other side of the curtain. Her chest felt tight — how long had she been sat there worrying?

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready now." She panicked, blurting out the words despite herself, cursing internally as Zayne pulled back the curtain. The doctor said nothing as his eyes drank in the sight of her, nor did his expression give anything away — Not that she'd know, she avoided his gaze like the plague, staring intently at the floor. But despite his composure, Zayne certainly noticed her indelicate attire. And despite his healing instincts, and the rather prominent gash on her thigh, her panties were the very first thing that held his attention.

Zayne sat beside the bed, on the side of her injured leg, leaning in close to the cut. He took a long look at it, reticent as ever, before finally meeting her gaze.

"What time did this happen yesterday?"

"In the evening."

"And you didn't think to call me when it did?" Zayne pressed. Her words were trapped in her throat for a moment, before she finally pushed them out.

"Well... no. It was late, and it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"It's never too late to check yourself in to a hospital." Zayne stated the obvious. "Whether I was available or not, you should have had this seen to immediately." His tone was stern, his stare unwavering. She said nothing. "When something like this happens, you need to call me, no matter how late it is. I'm your primary care physician, it's what I'm here for. And if I can't see to you personally, I can find someone who can."

"I understand. I will do, next time."

"You really ought to take your health more seriously. You have a duty, as a hunter, to protect people. Lives depend on you. And you can't protect anybody if you can't take adequate care of yourself. Being anything less than thorough with your wellbeing is selfish, and neglectful of your duties." His words made her brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and shame, but she still didn't respond.

"Injuries sustained through Wanderer attacks are more susceptible to infections. Some are serious, and fast-acting, as you should well know. I cannot stress enough the importance of getting wounds like these seen to as soon as possible—"

"I know, Doctor." She interrupted, a little snappy. "I told you already. I will next time, and I'm here now, aren't I?" But did she have any right to be annoyed with his tone? Deep down she knew she didn't, that she was only being stubborn, but she couldn't help herself.

"Please don't be so reckless next time." Zayne asked her, his tone softer, his eyes so tender she couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She couldn't take it when he scolded her.

The doctor sighed softly through his nose.

"This will need sutures, but I'll need to clean the wound and check for signs of infection first, which requires a physical examination. Is that alright?" His words nearly made her melt.

"That's fine." She composed herself well enough for an answer.

Zayne brought a gloved hand to her thigh, and although the gesture was purely clinical, she couldn't help the heat that rushed to the spot between her legs. His hands were cool, and his touch gentle, so gentle that if she closed her eyes and pictured a different context, it could've been a loving caress. Zayne pressed his fingers firmly against her thigh.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." She answered honestly. Zayne repeated the motion to the space surrounding her injury, his fingers travelling in a small circle, starting from the bottom of the cut, until they creeped inwards. Zayne gently pulled at her thigh, widening her legs as he continued his examination. She was trying her best not to react.

She cast her gaze downwards, to the fingers between her legs, and her heart dropped. From this angle, under the stark white lights, she was clearly exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. She was so embarrassed she nearly screamed, looking to Zayne to try and gauge his reaction — but she couldn't. He was too focused on the task at hand.

Her breath became shaky as she observed the way he prodded at her, how his fingers crept ever-closer to her arousal. Just one budge in the opposite direction and those tough, broad hands would be swept over her cunt. Imagining how his fingertips would tickle the mesh of her panties was enough to make her wet.

She heard her name in the recesses of her mind, and then again. Only the second time did she realise it was coming from Zayne's lips.

She snapped back to reality, looking back at him with eyes wider than intended. He stared back at her with a cutting gaze.

"I asked you whether it hurt, where I was touching you." He repeated. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a few moments before she could cough the words out.

"No— no, sorry. I was a million miles away." She chuckled sheepishly.

Zayne looked back at her, giving nothing away. How exciting, he thought, that he could tell exactly what was going through her mind, yet she didn't have a clue what he was thinking? Zayne was extraordinarily good at hiding his emotions, but his patient? Not so much.

She was embarrassed, that much was clear. Whether the lingerie was a wardrobe malfunction or a bold decision she quickly came to regret, he wasn't sure.

What was also clear was that she liked it — what he declined to express was that he did too.

How could he not? If it were anybody else, he wouldn't give such scandalous attire a second thought. As a doctor, he was indiscriminate; a body was just a body. He'd seen the hidden corners of countless beautiful women and it never swayed his commitment to his work or hindered his professionalism — not once. But she was different. Surely, despite how reserved he was, she could tell that she was different? That this tension between them was all but ordinary?

"I don't believe you have an infection, but I'd like to see you in a week for observation. If anything changes, let me know immediately." He told her, his tone as stoic as ever. Yet his hand lingered at her inner thigh, so close to her cunt she was sure he could feel the heat through his gloves. Eventually, he did move his hand. Despite his feelings, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Zayne then proceeded with the usual cleaning and dressing procedures, and she suppressed a hiss as he swabbed the wound with antiseptic. During this entire exchange, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, whereas Zayne was as quiet as usual. The silence was unbearable, she wasn't sure she could ever recall a time where she'd felt so awkward that it hurt. Her body was so tense, and her lust swelled so needily that she couldn't suppress the words that left her mouth next.

"I'm sorry about the underwear." She blurted, her apology cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. But it didn't take long for the searing metal to scorch her skin — she regretted the words almost the moment she'd said them.

Zayne paused, placing down the suture needle he was prepping before staring straight back at her. There was a hint of mirth behind his eyes, that came into fruition through a small, teasing smile.

"Don't apologise." His tone was gentle and neutral.

Did he say that so things wouldn't be uncomfortable, or because he liked the look of them?

"I didn't wear these because I knew you'd see them, all my other pairs hadn't dried. And I wasn't even going to see you in the first place, I only did because Jenna told me to!" She couldn't help but explain herself, a grimace on her face, but Zayne remained quiet as he brought the needle to the cut.

The anaesthetic numbed the pain. She felt uncomfortable again, with Zayne's sudden silence. She wondered whether he'd respond at all, whether she'd made things too awkward, but Zayne was simply mulling over the best thing to say.

"You don't usually wear lingerie to work, then?" He enquired, meeting her gaze once he'd pulled the stitch through. She chuckled bashfully, dipping her head.

"No. Never. They've been irritating me all day." Zayne hummed at this, continuing with his sutures. "Why, would you prefer it if I did?"

She wasn't sure where such boldness had come from. Likely it was that her lips below were talking for the ones above, despite how twisted up she felt inside. Yet again, she quickly regretted her pitiful attempt at flirting, until Zayne seemed to bite.

He met her eyes again, his smile wider now. He loved seeing her so playful. "I'm not sure I can come up with an answer that's both professional and true."

Her desire burned at his words, so brightly that she swore she could feel a hole forming in her chest. She clenched, unwittingly, never had she been so eager to feel him. A Cheshire-cat smile stretched across her face, the type of smile that she was sure made her look silly, yet Zayne found it endearing.

She began to laugh, though at first it was deep in the pit of her stomach, and Zayne continued with his work. But she couldn't help her laughter, the swell of emotions overtaking her. Embarrassed, yet immensely satisfied. How unexpected that things were beginning to work out for her?

Zayne finished the sutures, gathering fresh gauze as he began to dress the wound, amused by her reaction. "Do you truly find me that funny?" He asked in a level tone, and her laughter died down so that she could respond.

"Zayne, you are the furthest thing from funny." Though she didn't elaborate, as there was no need. Her belly full of butterflies was clear without words. The doctor hummed and finished dressing the wound.

She watched him as quiet settled over them again, but this time it wasn't an awkward silence. Instead, it was charged with sexual tension. Zayne stopped looking at her thigh in favour of the warmth between her legs. He stared, unabashedly, and the look on his face struck a bolt of fresh arousal through her heart.

He took his gloves off, then slowly, he reached over, tracing his fingertip over the lacy edge of her underwear. "Why do you have underwear like this anyway? Do you have a partner?" He asked her. She thought he sounded almost a little possessive, but it was clear another man in the picture wouldn't stop him anyways. His eyes flitted up to hers.

Her face felt hot at the question. Goosebumps prickled up across her skin in an instant, her cunt twitching from the subtle contact. "No."

"No?" He tested, taking his finger directly over her heat, stroking it up and down over the thin mesh of her panties. He could feel her wetness soaking through, and the way she twitched under his touch. "Then I'm right to assume that these are only for me?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that she mirrored.

"That's right."

Her answer pleased him. She spread her legs a little wider, resisting the urge to moan despite the fact he'd hardly touched her. Zayne slipped his fingers beneath her underwear, finally feeling her properly. The sensation made her gasp.

He merely trailed his touch along the length of her cunt, between her folds, sticky with her slick. He was teasing her, taking his precious time as he lapped up the look on her face.

"You're already so wet."

His voice was collected. He was completely in control, while the woman at the end of his fingers was quickly unravelling by the second. She said nothing, releasing a shaky breath. Zayne stood, sitting opposite her on the table.

He took his fingers from the lips below to the ones above, tracing them gently, before taking hold of her jaw. He pulled her forward, and their lips collided in a greedy kiss. She poured her desire into him, clasping him tightly, pulling him closer, her eyes clenched shut as he expelled the tension from her form.

Yet Zayne, as always, appeared composed. He parried her hungry affections effortlessly, his grip on her jaw becoming firm. Zayne led the charge, as he guided her lips against his, eventually setting their pace. She slowed down to appreciate him, but before long the kiss was broken. Zayne pulled away with a soft smile, his lips a little puffy as he pressed them chastely to her cheek.

He brought his fingers to her lips again. "Suck them for me." His command was gentle without losing its timbre, and she obeyed, sucking on the digits without question, briefly, until he pulled them out of her mouth. Zayne brought his wetted fingers back to her cunt, pulling her underwear to one side and sticking his fingers firmly against her.

She huffed at the sensation. His fingers were still a little cold, warmer now thanks to her mouth. She clenched, feeling empty, needing him inside of her.

Zayne rolled his fingers over her clit, and not too slowly, which took her by surprise. She moaned already, widening her legs for him. He wore a focused expression, lust sparking beneath his pointed gaze.

He sat more comfortably between her legs, taking her thigh, before inserting a finger into her cunt. She whined, though she was wet enough to offer no resistance. He pushed it deep inside of her in one, smooth motion.

She clenched tightly with her core, as if to hold on to him, wanting to keep him inside of her, sighing as he pulled his finger out, only for him to add a second.

This was a tighter fit. She moaned, trying to keep her voice down, angling her hips up to feel him better. Zayne slowly began to pump both his fingers, up deep inside of her then down to the tips. The friction of her walls against him was marvellous.

"You feel wonderful." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, fixed on every micromovement. Everything about her, from the sound of her voice, the small parting in her lips, the sight of her so uninhibited before him — it was poetry in motion. This woman, as capable and stubborn as she was, was helpless at his touch.

I do feel wonderful, she thought, scoffing at Zayne's compliment. She felt blissful, like a ball of a thousand knots had at once been untied, releasing a deep strain she'd been harbouring in her stomach. Ever since she'd reunited with Dr. Zayne, those ties had knotted. Every time she'd seen him, the palpable tension between them had grown and grown. Until now.

Zayne sat up straight, then hoisted her up, taking his fingers out briefly to pull her panties off entirely, carelessly discarding the item on the floor. It was only a momentary distraction — soon Zayne's fingers slipped past her walls yet again, though this time he was positioned beside her, his other arm hooked around her waist, holding her close.

He pumped his fingers faster, his motions mechanical, his rhythm never wavering, and she struggled to contain the sound of her mewls.

"Shh. You need to be quieter." He hushed her, gently. "As much as I love hearing you, the walls here aren't so thick." He managed a chuckle, dipping his head to her neck, pressing a short trail of kisses down its length. This made her shiver

"That's— that's the wrong way to get me to be quiet." She scolded, playfully, matching his smile. Her words were breathy and choppy from her efforts to conceal her pleasure.

"Noted." Zayne turned her head toward his, then caught her lips in another kiss, one more frenzied than the first. Zayne used his lips to muffle the noises coming out of hers, eating every moan and whine she poured into him. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could reach inside of her, stroking her walls with a beckoning motion. Meanwhile, he played with her clit with his thumb, breaking their kiss to observe her reactions.

She looked divine. Her lips were wet and inflamed, dripping with saliva, her hair tousled, her expression languid. And he could see how she tried so hard to keep quiet for him, how her whimpers bubbled in her mouth, how hard she breathed through her nose. She felt she must have looked silly, but Zayne didn't think so at all.

"So you can do what you're told?" He teased, sounding more playful than she'd ever heard him. She huffed at this, far too wound up to retort.

He suddenly began to pump his fingers again, faster than before, which took her time to adjust to. She gasped, but caught most of the sound in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel her climax swelling. It couldn't be far away. Her body felt tight and hot, her face clenched with the torment of having to keep quiet. She held his hand, leaning into him, her movements becoming fidgety as she tried to channel her stimulation. Again, she clenched at Zayne's fingers, bucking her hips to take more of them. Seeing her so desperate for him was so exciting.

"You're doing so well." He didn't tease her anymore, cooing into her ear. His husky tone was enough to make her moan again, that one slipping right past her defences, ringing loud and clear. Oops.

She bit her lips, flashing Zayne an apologetic look, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did he slow down. Another pang of pleasure rippled through her, and at that she knew it was time.

"Zayne— I'm close—" She just about choked the words out, her hand coming to clamp her mouth shut. Somehow, in the heat of things, she'd forgotten she had that option.

He sped up a final time, his fingers flashing in and out of her with a series of thick squelches. Zayne fingered her like a machine, one clever in its design — to be so quick and accurate without being brutal. She felt her whole body tense, a flush of great heat washing over her, choking out her gasps as she buried her head in Zayne's shoulder. Then, at once, she reached her release.

Her body quickly went lax, the heat and strain fizzing out of her, skin tingling. It took her a few good gasps to regain her composure, eyes slowly opening. When she looked down, the light sheet on the table had been soaked through with her release, her legs glistening with sweat. Slowly, Zayne pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine from the weary woman. He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking away her juices.

He sent her a smile, pulling her against his chest. "Did you like that?" Surely the answer was obvious, and she sent him a look that spoke a thousand words. His smile deepened. "I'm glad."

"I hope I wasn't too loud..." She mused, looking to Zayne, who leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. A delicate gesture that made her heart stir.

"You were. But don't worry about it." She scoffed at that, too tired to do anything but listen to him. Before she could return the favour and get Zayne off, she needed a few minutes to gather herself.

But Zayne didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own satisfaction — seeing her hit ecstasy was all he needed. He rubbed at her inner thigh, the one that wasn't injured, giving her a slightly regretful look.

"I have an appointment in twenty minutes, so unfortunately you're going to have to leave soon." The words weighed heavy on her chest, even though she knew that was stupid, nodding at Zayne with a cheeky smile.

"That's not a problem, I can make it quick." She reached over to the tent in Zayne's crotch, but he took her hand, moving it away.

"I can sort myself out." He assured her. She couldn't help but feel a little rejected. Sensing this, he stroked her cheek.

"You can make it up to me another time." They both smiled at that, staring at each other for what felt like hours.

"I'll never avoid making an appointment again."

They probably would have kept staring if it weren't for the startling knock at the door, and the concerned voice of one of the nurses that followed.

"Doctor Zayne? Is everything alright in there? I heard a lot of noise!"

[unkur]

Just me reflecting on the past 12 months

I think that today (04.12.2024) is my one year anniversary of being a part of the DCA fandom. And holy shit, a lot has happened.

(CW: Rambling, not written with much effort, perhaps a little bit oversharing, suicidal thoughts mentioned)

I've been a fan of robots, aliens and monsters for the longest time. So one day I was scrolling through AO3, looking for some random stories, from random fandoms that I know nothing about. Because I wasn't really that big of a fan if anything at that moment. I just wanted to read about robots.

I avoided FNAF fanfictions for like a month. I was a part of the fandom back when I was like 11 years old. And I didn't wanna return. But there were quite a few stories. And I also noticed the so called "Daycare Attendant". Idk what it was, but something just had me interested in them. So I gave in.

Like with every other fic that I read, I googled what the robot looks like. My first reaction was something like "What the fuck is that? Why does it look like that?".

But something just pulled me towards them. And I fell into a rabbit hole. I hope it never ends.

Tomorrow one year ago (on the fifth), was my last day at a workplace. I was there for exactly two months and it fucked up my mental health really bad. I've had depression before working there, but this made it all just worse.

Around the same time, maybe a few weeks later, I discovered the best fanfic that I've ever read.

I decided to join the server some time later, because I needed art about the characters, and I needed some drabbles to read.

I just wanted to be a lurker, but people talked to me when I joined. So I responded. I talked and tried to make friends. I tried it for months. But making friends is just something that I'm horrible at. And it hurt. My depression got worse, but I still tried. Until I couldn't handle it anymore and went silent. Being lonely in a room full of people just hurts so much more than just being alone.

So, instead of trying to make friends out of real people, I went back to my imaginary ones. They have always been there and will always be there, as long as I want to keep them. They are my main reason for happiness. I love them. They have rolls. My two best friends are the beast and the jester (Like robots, I have liked jesters and clowns for a long time. Before I knew anything about the DCA). Then there's the king, the robot and two others that I'm not sure what they are yet (One of them might be the priestess though, or the demon?). I take up the roll of the knight.

I was doing terrible. Stopped taking care of myself. Until I realized I had to do something against it.

I read a DCA fic where they were part of a self care app. That's how I realized I could just download one of those. And it helped! It helped really really well. Not only did I take care of myself. I started to go on walks almost every single day. I explored the forest and the mountain. Went down small roads and paths I have never been on. And when I saw a bench, I sat down on and wrote. I wrote almost every day, until I finally got a job again. After six god damn months.

The book, which is my second book btw, has recently reached novel lenght!

That new work place healed my depression in a span of a few weeks. I went from suicidal thoughts every day to only occasionally a few times a week, to only once a week! The people are nice, the work is fun, its a safe place for people with mental illness, disorders, physical disabilities etc. The only downside is that I don't get paid. But at least I don't have to be scared of my life anymore, I guess that's enough.

So yeah, that's it I guess.

[findafight]

R/nance shippers are some of the first to scream homophobia/lesbophobia if you disagree with them or point out the Steve of it all, but they're the first in line to vilify Vickie, a canonically sapphic character, because she gets in the way of their ship.

It's so silly tbh. Like the ship someone likes (that doesn't erase a character's sexuality) has any say on whether or not some is/isn't homophobic.

Everybody loves pure of heart, dumb of ass and lesbian friendship until that lesbian loves her bff more than the possibility of a romantic relationship lol.

And yep. I think this is the first time I've seen a fandom vilify a female character that's a canon love interest who is getting in the way of a non canon gay ship when the gay ship is also two women. Claiming she has no personality when we see her have a similar sense of humour to Robin and Steve, like a movie Steve likes, get a bit nervous talking to a cute girl and rambling a bit, breaking up with her boyfriend because he refused to stay and help their hometown after a natural disaster. She's loyal and funny and brave. She's not the same as Robin, she does have a personality, (saying she doesn't have one and then also saying saying she's just a copy of Robin shifted to the left is also sus like.. what do they think of Robin, then?) And the fact that Vickie is canonically wlw!! Bi queen!!!

Something about it feels hinky to me. Especially when some people insisting Nancy is a lesbian do it. Now, that is a fine and reasonable HC, but acting like her relationships with men, regardless of her actual attraction to them, meant nothing to her is also not it. She chose those relationships, and while it may have been comphet, they still mattered to her? They were still people she trusted and was close to. (Honestly, exploring how those were still meaningful to her but the romantic/sexual aspects were not what she wanted from life/realizing she's gay could be interesting.)

It mostly boils down to folks valuing Romo ships above any other significant relationships, and that if it wasn't romantic and there wasn't sexual attraction, then obviously it didn't mean anything. And also possibly biphobia (especially concerning Vickie!)

I'm fine with people shipping different things, ship and let ship, I can avoid things I don't like, but acting like Steve is an irrelevant part of both Nancy and Robin's lives mischaracterizes all three of them, and saying that it would be a non issue makes it boring. At least be interesting with it! I'm not even saying Steve would have a problem with it, but that Robin would because while Steve can downplay how hurt he was by Nancy, and blame himself, Robin would at least see how bad the relationship ended and wouldn't want to rub salt in that wound. I think Steve would be more worried about Nancy hurting Robin and/or lying about how much the relationship means to her than he would be hurt, through he would have every right to be. After all, he most likely doesn't know he was cheated on, but he does know Nancy said she loved him when she didn't.

It's one of those ships that makes waaaay more sense if it's at least five years from canon (and even then it doesn't make sense to me unless it's reconnecting, because I don't see Nancy staying close to anyone in Hawkins once she gets out).

Everybody has their headcanon etc, but I think fandom is much more fun when there's a balance and Romo ships aren't prioritized over platonic ones, especially platonic ones that are canonically incredibly important to the characters

[siilverwiitch]

Chapter 1: I am the problem

Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, & (mentioned Nakahara Chuuya)

Language: English

Words: 1,208

AO3 Link

Next

Opening his eyes, Dazai noticed the morning sunlight streaming in through the window. Despite the warm rays resting on his skin, he felt cold. Sitting up, he let his futon pool around his waist.

“I see God has made me live another day and I’m about to make it Kunikida’s problem.”

Chuckling to himself, he avoided eye contact with the mirror as he went about his morning routine. The final part of his morning involved wrapping his arms, torso, neck, and legs. Every time he did this, he ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that unhelpfully reminded him that it was easier with the help of a certain red-haired chibi. Pushing that thought back, curb-stomping its face, putting three rounds into its chest, and then throwing it into the river of his subconscious, he finished up the last bandage.

Time to start another day.

Today was just like any other day at the agency. Work was as unstimulating as ever, and Kunikida was as entertaining to annoy. Today alone he had called Dazai a ‘waste of bandages’ eight times, twice in the same sentence. Dazai was honestly impressed.

"Dazai, I swear if you don't stop being a pain and actually start writing the report that was due two hours ago, I will force you to stay behind until you actually finish!" 

Kunikida's face was now less than an inch from his own, and was so red Dazai could practically feel the heat of his anger coming off in waves.

"Why, Kunikida-kun, if you get any angrier your blood vessels might explode, and that would be a very painful death," Dazai replied in his usual playful tone, earning an exasperated sigh. 

Kunikida stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Just get it finished, alright?"

Deciding that he had probably pushed Kunikida's buttons enough for one day, Dazai turned towards his laptop, staring at the screen and the small icon that lay ignored on the taskbar. Guess I should stop pretending I've not done anything, he thought. Sitting at the desk, he opened the icon and began checking the contents. I really need to remember that not everyone takes my playful jabs as well as... Anyway, he realised this fact more and more each time Kunikida seemed less and less pleased with his antics unlike... no, stop it... I'm not going there. I'm not giving that pipsqueak any room in my thoughts.

I can't. It's still too soon.

He hated when his mind did this to him, reminding him that one dumbass decision he made destroyed any chance he may have been able to have... Although blowing up his car may have been the final straw for the pipsqueak—at least it wasn’t his bike. He thought he would have hunted him down and ended him years ago if he had destroyed that.

Looking up from his laptop, Dazai realised the office was busy today and yet he still felt as lonely as he always had since leaving. He needed some air.

Dazai stood up from his desk, his movements languid and deliberate. The office buzzed with activity, voices overlapping in a cacophony that felt distant to him. He weaved through the bustling room, heading for the exit, his mind replaying fragments of past memories he wished he could forget.

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath of the fresh air, the cool breeze providing a brief respite from the turmoil within. The streets of Yokohama stretched out before him, alive with the rhythm of the city. He walked aimlessly, his thoughts a chaotic mix of regret and longing.

He found himself at the edge of the harbour, the water lapping gently against the docks. The horizon was painted with the soft hues of dawn, a promise of a new day. Dazai leaned against the railing, staring out at the sea, his mind drifting back to happier times. He remembered the camaraderie, the laughter, and the warmth of friendships that had once been his anchor.

But those days were gone, shattered by his own reckless decisions. He couldn't help but think of the red-haired chibi, Chuuya, and the bond they once shared. A bond forged in the crucible of battles and struggles, now reduced to a painful memory. Blowing up Chuuya's car had been the final act of defiance, a misguided attempt to sever ties he didn't know how to maintain.

Dazai sighed, his breath misting in the cool morning air. He couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the mistakes he had made. But he could try to make amends, to find a way to bridge the chasm he had created. 

As he stood there, lost in thought, he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Turning slightly, he saw Kunikida walking towards him, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. 

"Dazai, what are you doing out here?" Kunikida asked, his tone softer than usual. "You should be inside, working on that report."

Dazai gave a half-hearted smile, shrugging. "Just needed some fresh air, Kunikida-kun. The office can get a bit stifling, you know?"

Kunikida crossed his arms, studying Dazai with a critical eye. "You can't keep running away whenever things get tough. We all have our burdens to bear."

Dazai's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I know, Kunikida. Believe me, I know. It's just... some burdens are heavier than others."

Kunikida's gaze softened slightly, and he sighed. "We all make mistakes, Dazai. But we have to face them, learn from them, and move forward. You can't keep punishing yourself forever."

Dazai looked out at the water, the weight of Kunikida's words settling over him. He knew he was right. He couldn't keep running from his past, from the guilt and the pain. He had to confront it, to find a way to heal and move forward.

"You're right," Dazai said quietly. "I can't keep running. I need to face what I've done and find a way to make things right."

Kunikida nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And you don't have to do it alone. We're a team, Dazai. We're here for each other."

Dazai felt a flicker of warmth in his chest, a reminder that he wasn't as alone as he sometimes felt. He had people who cared about him, who were willing to stand by him despite his flaws and mistakes.

"Thanks, Kunikida," Dazai said, his voice sincere. "I appreciate it."

Kunikida clapped a hand on Dazai's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's get back to the office. There's work to be done."

As they walked back together, Dazai felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had the strength to face it. With his friends by his side, he could confront his past and work towards a better future.

And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to heal the wounds he had caused and rebuild the bonds he had broken. It was a daunting task, but one he was willing to undertake. For himself, for his friends, and for the chance at redemption he so desperately sought.

[gravitywonagain]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

thank you for tagging me @amethyst-noir <3 you're wonderful

i'm not sure i did this right; i'm working on too many things at once...... so i picked a few :D

 1: what are you currently working on? 

umm... several things. if we're going to stick to the immediate and not look at my entire wip folder, currently i'm working on finishing wagbfm, an external porny wagbfm oneshot ch, and a fic with the working title "under streetlights" as my main fan projects.

but then also, because i hate myself or something, i have (oh god) two (2) original projects that i'm building. the first shares a universe (or at least a magic system) with a fanfic that i'm not allowed to touch until i finish wagbfm because it will be a similar undertaking in length and world building, and it has the working title "desert mirage". the second doesn't quite have a plot yet, but i've been spending a not insignificant amount of effort developing the magic system for it from scratch (must be masochism), and its working title is "rebel yell".

2: summarize your current project 

which one? okay, i'll do the fics here and the original ones next.

wagbfm (taken directly from ao3): Wei Wuxian died and Yiling Laozu rose in his place. He has avoided the Triad societies he grew up around, maintaining his anonymity and forging a new cultivation path. Now, thirteen years later, Hanguang-jun walks into Demon-Subdue Hall and requests Yiling Laozu's services for GusuLan Triad. Something is stirring in the world. Something that necessitates his return to a life and to people he’s long since mourned as lost to him.

"under streetlights" (significantly less polished): 13 years after the car accident that took Wei Ying's life, Lan Zhan has fled the memories and grief that haunt him in San Francisco, only to find himself making a strangely compelling connection on Grindr in Florida.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

"desert mirage": Girl magically decapitates herself only to find out that it's not even her own head.

"rebel yell": In the world of genetic magic users, the one-armed whistler with perfect pitch is king.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

i think almost every character from mdzs could fill this list. plus several from my many other fandoms (looking at you, asami sato). but this seems aimed at ocs or other characters i haven't already spent time dissecting on this blog so...

meet calliope burns: she has two love interests, one arm, and zero fucks left. her default mode is research spiral. her glasses are always dirty. and she once threw her cheap-as-they-come prosthetic arm across a room because her roommate would not stop punning at her.

(also, worry not, i don't do love triangles unless the triangle gets closed... with polyamory, in case that wasn't clear.)

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

“You’re dead,” says Lan Zhan, and Wei Ying feels glass splintering around his temple.

6: how do you get through writers block?

patience? or, more accurately, distraction. i have no cure for it. i mostly just wait it out by doing other things. sometimes that becomes very difficult and aggravating, but i have not yet found another solution. sometimes making playlists helps?

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

hell no. i do not write fun places to live; i write interesting places to live. and as we have all discovered by now, interesting is exhausting.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

um... sporadic? it tends to start as a vague idea in a note on my phone. then when i've added enough to that note, it gets a onenote. on the onenote i collect a lot of larger character and world building things, in addition to figuring out the plot. the plot gets a bullet list with an associated timeline. then when the prose starts, it gets a google doc. from there the prose and the bullet list inform each other back and forth until i get something coherent out of them both. which is to say, mostly it's pretty freeform.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

wagbfm: a darker chinese version of Romeo + Juliet (1996, dir. Baz Luhrmann)

"under streetlights": cigarette smoke and that fever dream feeling that accompanies yellowed, peeling motel wallpaper, but in, like, pretty sunset colors

"desert mirage": american southwest cow skull art

"rebel yell": 1980's punk scene meets 1950's technology meets 1910’s human rights violations and eugenics… plus magic!

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

wagbfm: the title is based on a lyric from "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes, but i think the song that gets at the heart of it might actually be "Freak" by Sub Urban

"under streetlights": the fic is inspired by "3 Nights" by Dominic Fike, but the song that it most resembles is actually "Hurting on Purpose" by Whethan

"desert mirage": "Black Magic" by Magic Wands but also "Corazón Espinado (feat. Maná)" by Santana... it's complicated

"rebel yell": "It's a good day (to fight the system)" by Shungudzo though the working title is obviously taken from "Rebel Yell" by Billy Idol

Tagging: @dovebeast, @epistemologys, @jasontoddiefor, @eldritchjackalope, @iamwestiec if you feel like it, and really anyone who wants to play!

[reblogandlikes]

Tangent incoming.

The fact that this even needs to be literally spelt out is crazy, but what's new with this fandom who gobble every word SJM pick-me characters spew? Everything you've written is what I've picked up and have been screaming while reading the books.

I wasn't so much of a pro Tamlin person until Feyre/SJM turned me into one because i hate being lied to and manipulated in believing a character's wrongs are actually morally correct. I rather characters do wrong and know they are wrong, but then grow as the story progresses. Not becoming so self-absorbed when stuck in their own circle-jerk echo chamber whilst claiming others are rewriting the narrative when babe, that's literally you, it's painful.

Initially, I was giving Feyre leeway. She's the MC. She's young. She's gone through trauma and unable to see beyond it in order to recognise others. She literally DIED. But then her inner monologue felt exhausting and purposefully falsely reading the situation or people's words/actions. She painted everything negatively without consideration yet never fully overtly asserted herself or at least tries to understand how precarious the entire situation is with the dangers around or the political instability whlist also being attached to Prythian's Voldemort.

Throughout MAF the heavy distinction between Tamlin and Rhysand could make you choke. To make Rhysand become Feyre’s saviour by actively demonising Tamlin with the theme of "freedom" and "choice" instead of delving into trauma complicating relationships and finding common ground, whether the relationship maintains or ends. That they shouldn't be worked on, but discarded to replaced with something supposedly better. By WAR, even if a reader had yet to understand Tamlin’s motives (should have been obvious by the end of MAF) Feyre made it her mission to be his downfall no matter his intention or the logjcal reason why he felt fearful for her. That the Rhysand she "knows" isn't the one that Prythian has been subjected to.

She lied in ways that negatively confirmed Tamlin fears for her. She schemes, ruining relationships when a strong bond was needed. She manipulated the people who once praised her. Her actions forced Tamlin's hands in ways he wished to avoid. Her involvement literally fucked everything Iver when she little miss boss babe could have used that brain and put her daemati powers to use and scan Tamlin to understand him more. But her intention was understanding, but ruination because he...rightfully feared for her life which she herself realised later when the attor tracked her thanks to that wonderful mate of hers?

Despite Tamlin working to protect his court and Prythian by extension, Feyre’s fury has been justified and twisting the readers' objective opinion to become as biased as her. It doesn't matter that Tamlin's court trusted and respected him long before everything went down while Rhysand’s own court, 2/3, hates/dislikes him and continues to, but thats irrelevanti guess because ✨️Velaris✨️. It doesn't matter that Tamlin's actions actually had tangible results whilst Rhysand’s...hiding a place that was already hidden and was in no danger but gave the rest of his court up on a platter and still didnt get anything worthy against Hybern. Doesn't matter if Tamlin continued to save her and people she cared about time and time again; he's worthless, and this is displayed in FAS and again in their hostility towards him in SF when dude is just being depressed, minding his business while they are trespassing on his land.

I don't know which boyfriend Tamlin was based on that fucked SJM over, but even when she tried to write him to be horrible or toxic or violent or ✨️abusive✨️ (all these are traits in Rhysand and other Fae's) his actions remains the most understandable out of all her characters. And to then try to suddenly claim that his court was already failing and he wanted to work with Hybern or that he wasn't a good double agent...readers who think this are just being disingenuous.

Hijacked this post, sorry. The Tamlin slander is horrendous. Their hate, most inherited due to the social media content consumed mixed in with group think to sway opinion is crazy. Even with SJM's lazy writing, the villianisation of Tamlin despite his overall actions being a benefit to Prythian will forever leave me dumbfounded.

Long Post

I’m starting to feel people don’t understand what espionage truly means. I recently came across this post that said Tamlin was never a double agent and was only playing the good guy to save himself, and there was a list supporting the claim. So, here we go.

Fair warning: this is needlessly elaborate, includes many tangents and requires thinking from perspectives outside of the explicit narrative.

Before we begin, let’s get one thing clear, just because Night flaunts Azriel as their spymaster, it doesn’t mean that’s how spies operate. Revealing their identity risks compromising future missions and the people close to them. IRL spies lead double lives for decades for this very reason and only a select few are trusted with the knowledge depending on who they report to or who serve as their getaway.

‘Even Lucien was in the dark.’ Dagdan and Brannagh are daemati. Involving more people in the plan means more sources for the twins to exploit and more possible leverage for Hybern. Lucien could be held captive or threatened with death to force Tamlin into furthering the war. Their friendship was taken advantage of by Amarantha twice before. It isn’t a matter of trust but of protection, the way Feyre isn’t involved either. Besides, if Tamlin is compromised and found plotting against Hybern, the first step would be to check Lucien’s mind, leaving with no one in power left to protect Spring.

‘Tamlin let Hybern settle in Spring.’ Tamlin grants access to a troop to survey the Wall, which is different from allowing a whole army into his territory. With his defences intact, he still has the upper hand. Managing and controlling the movements of a troop within his borders is much easier than stopping an army, which is exactly what Lucien does—accompanying Jurian and the twins to the Wall. It is after Feyre destroys Spring that they are left vulnerable, allowing the rest of the Hybern’s army camp there. Moreover, denying access to his lands would be suspicious, not letting them inspect the Wall would be suspicious. It is part of the act, playing a willing participant in upholding his end of the deal.

‘Tamlin didn’t warn the other courts.’ After Amarantha’s reign, while the other High Lords are rebuilding their courts and making allies, Tamlin is invested in freeing Feyre from her bargain. Among the six courts, one is Spring’s enemy for harbouring Lucien, one steals Feyre every month, and two are fairly new High Lords Tamlin doesn’t know. And if Night’s visit to Summer is common knowledge, Tarquin ‘allows’ Rhysand to parade Feyre again after witnessing everything Under the Mountain. Clearly, Tamlin doesn’t know who to trust.

Considering he chooses to warn them, a ‘Hey, Hybern is coming for us all’ isn’t useful enough when it’s already expected after Amarantha’s reign. In fact, it would have encouraged Hybern to act before the courts could recuperate or even unleash the Cauldron in whatever capacity. This is evidenced by the attack on Velaris when they attempted to gain the mortal Queens on their side. Hybern has been amassing armies for years, centuries even. In order to win, Prythian needs more than a ‘warning’ which Tamlin manages to obtain.

Moreover, the battle of Adriata occurs right after Feyre returns to Night (iirc a week or two). Since Spring is in tatters, Tamlin isn’t in a position to help anyone, especially as Hybern attacks from the seas and not Spring lands. Also, his emissary, Lucien, and every other powerful player on his side are removed from the board.

Besides, who would believe his words when not long ago he was running around like a depraved lunatic to save the woman he loves, and none of them cared? Who would believe it’s more than his paranoia or even a ploy to get her back without concrete proof?

‘Spring was already broken.’ From the beginning, it is clear that Tamlin has his people’s loyalty. His sentries beg to be sacrificed to free him from the curse. When the lands grow dangerous with not many left to defend it, the people flee. After the curse is broken, they all return—one of them being Alis. Despite the reduced population, with Amarantha’s cronies still at large and creatures roaming wild, Spring is recovering and the people are happy. Feyre herself notes how content they are to be in Tamlin’s presence.

When Feyre is kidnapped, Tamlin kills the sentries on guard, which is meant to turn everyone against him. But it’s not that simple. Feyre would have officially become Lady of Spring if she weren’t ‘stolen’ during the wedding. The sentries are entrusted to protect their Lady—whom they love and respect. They are aware of the bargain. They are aware Feyre was killed once. They are aware Feyre is a target—as an asset or Tamlin’s weakness. It is under their watch that she is taken from their home. When they couldn’t even stop his third-in-command from walking in, disarming everyone, and carrying Feyre away, how are they expected to protect her from the most powerful High Lord of Prythian?

And, Rhysand is not just an enemy of Tamlin. He has been the villain of Prythian for five centuries and possesses powers to twist someone’s mind. One outburst from Tamlin isn’t enough to make him a monster in the eyes of his sentries when Feyre is now Rhysand’s hostage. The people didn’t abandon Spring when Tamlin made a deal with Hybern because they knew there was no one to help them.

Everything that happens after Tamlin, Feyre and Lucien return from Hybern’s castle is a calculated move. Feyre admits that it is her goal to destroy everything Tamlin has, including his court and people. She never opens up about how she’s treated in Night, even during the one-week stays. Later, she accuses Rhysand of raping her over the past months and tricking her with the fake mating bond. She even takes the dramatic route with ‘if you peer into the darkness long enough, the darkness peers back’ (paraphrased) saying this to Lucien. There is no reason for anyone to doubt Tamlin’s actions when Feyre proves every one of their fears true.

Feyre doesn’t stop there. She exploits the people’s faith in her and manipulates them. During the Summer Solstice, she positions herself as more valuable and blessed than the people already claim her to be. With these new beliefs she creates, she becomes a bigger prize for the likes of Rhysand, Beron, and even Hybern. She constantly interrupts the conversations and corners Tamlin into decisions that are less than ideal, which he complies with to put on a united front. She exploits Tamlin’s trauma, abuses him, and pushes him to a breakdown in order to play his victim. She knows of Ianthe’s plans and lets the nagas attack using that to her advantage.

The lashings are pivotal in revealing who Tamlin is to the people, but there is a flaw in the narrative. Feyre was stolen from the mansion more than once. Rhysand and Morrigan proved that the mansion is not safe enough. Now, it is not even guarded against a few nagas and the sentry loses the keys after falling asleep? This is a question of their competence and loyalty. Even then, Tamlin waits till the morning to execute the punishment and Feyre controls the sentry’s memories until the very last minute, ensuring Tamlin has little chance to back out. She twists the scenario as Tamlin’s cruelty, when it is a High Lord’s home breached and their enemies are on their lands. Feyre exploits Tamlin’s fears, pushing him to take drastic measures and playing the saint who expected him to prove his goodness. If she cared so much about the sentry, why didn’t she force Ianthe to confess? Ultimately, she goes as far as manipulating them into believing that Tamlin let the twins hunt her. She breaks their trust in their High Lord. Everything Feyre does or says is a lie until Tamlin cracks (if you want to draw parallels, it’s exactly what Rhysand claims to have done Under the Mountain).

This is often ignored or used as proof of Tamlin’s failings. But, Alis leaves Spring because she knows that Hybern is not the only threat. Though she doesn’t hate or blame Feyre, she understands that soon Spring will fall because of her and Night.

So no, Spring was not broken. It was more put together than Night, where Rhysand has to threaten one half of his army and buy the loyalty of the other with false promises. Spring is loyal to their High Lord and their court until Feyre manipulates them. She admits to ‘priming Spring to fall’ and ‘baiting Tamlin’. She even wants to take over Spring with Night’s army after she destroys it. She is the reason for their downfall, not Tamlin, who is stuck in a no-win situation with everyone working against him—Ianthe, Feyre, Hybern, and even Lucien after a point.

The real question: Why is Night not held accountable for Hybern’s invasion, but Tamlin is?

Rhysand is aware of Hybern’s movements long before Tamlin makes the deal. He doesn’t trust other courts or warn them or ally with them—exactly what Tamlin is condemned for. Rhysand betrays Summer by stealing their most valuable relic and weapon. It’s only after he fails that he reaches out to other courts for support. In fact, his failure fast-tracks the war—Hybern was counting on Inner Circle’s martyr complex which they all played right to the T.

Even forgiving all this as good intentions, they still keep everything under wraps. None of the courts are warned, including Summer and Autumn, who share their borders with Spring, which Hybern is taking over first. For two months, all they do is wait for Feyre. For two months, they don’t attempt to unite other courts to stop Hybern or make Feyre’s escape easy. They don’t even rally their Illyrian and Darkbringer armies until Feyre arrives. They have the best spymaster and the best network of spies, but they also have the habit of always pulling his sources out at crucial times. They have the most powerful daemati who never uses his powers to find who his potential comrades are but has no problem invading minds to assert his dominance. In the two months, Night comes to the tough decision to hold a High Lords meeting after Feyre returns.

Besides, Feyre claims to spy in Spring but finds nothing useful about Hybern’s plans, which is proved in the meeting. Feyre is a High Lady who can’t keep her emotions in check and destroys the one court that shields the mortal lands from the rest of Prythian, leaving both sides vulnerable to Hybern. Tamlin could have stalled the infiltration with his army, exchanged information with the twins or Jurian, or negotiated his people’s safety in exchange for more access to his lands which would have been the strategic move here. But Feyre undermines every single leverage Spring has in this situation.

Tamlin siding with Hybern is similar to Rhysand working for Amarantha. No one knows of his intentions until the very end either. There’s no proof Rhysand was in favour of Prythian. He is the one who told Amarantha about the human girl in Spring only days before they ran out of time to break the curse. He is the reason Tamlin sends Feyre back to the mortal lands. He is the reason Feyre is abused, tortured, and killed Under the Mountain. None of his actions support his words. Then, why is it hard to believe Tamlin who delivers what he promised? He keeps his cover until Feyre is in danger again. He brings Beron’s forces to join the war. If he was merely playing a hero, he didn’t have to do any of this. Tamlin was a double agent and he did a better job than Feyre, who managed to notify her Inner Circle about the twins she killed anyway.

See, the issue is not with the character but the structure of the plot. Did SJM plan it thoroughly? No. Was it executed well? No, there isn’t enough foreshadowing to convince the readers. Despite this, it still works to some extent because Feyre is an unreliable narrator. When she arrives in Spring, she is determined to ruin Tamlin’s life and expose him as a monster. She nitpicks every one of his choices, words, and actions. She glosses over his good deeds and reassures herself that they are his manipulative tactics. Even if Tamlin laid his plans out to her, she wouldn’t believe it—that’s how far she is in her rage and vengeance.

The entire espionage arc doesn’t exist to redeem Tamlin, but it is a device for Rhysand and Feyre to magically have everything they need. Tamlin is not a character SJM cares about. He is a villain and will always remain a villain. Had it been someone she wanted to redeem, there would be a 12-page monologue in the High Lords meeting with tears and a sob story.

None of this is favouring one point of view over the other, but it’s important to consider the mentality of other characters in such situations instead of believing every word from the chosen narrator. This is a major problem in this fandom where readers take Feyre and Rhysand’s views at face value and treat it as absolute truth when the situation is much more complex. SJM doesn’t respect her readers’ intelligence and writes with complete abandon. As long as you lap up whatever she offers and glorify her books, she has no reason to write a better story. Instead of hating on the characters like Tamlin, maybe you should be questioning the writer for such an unconvincing and subpar plot.

[xthe-writing-vampirex]

In the Walls Part 3

Word Count: 1,596

Warnings: Mild fear and injury

Fandom: FNAF Security Breach

Parings: Glamrock Freddy/Reader

I've been posting this on AO3 and calling it In the Walls so I'll probably call it that on here too. This part of it is a fluffy G/T sort of scene with my favorite Papa bear. Hope you guys like it💕

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Freddy Fazbear stands in the dim light of the now open doorway for a moment, looking around for any signs of life. He saw the small being slip in here out of the corner of his eye, but now he wasn't so sure. There was no sign of the tiny being and the very thought of what could happen to them in a place like this makes the bear's heart hurt. He carefully steps into the dark room, watching the floor below him to make sure he doesn't harm them.

The sound of the bear's huge foot coming down next to your small frame causes a small noise of fear to escape your, until now, tightly sealed lips. Any human wouldn't have been able to hear such a small noise. Sadly for you, you weren't exactly dealing with a human.

The bot closes the door behind him before turning on the light above them. He wouldn't want anyone else coming in and scaring the small being more after all. When the light comes on another small noise of fear escapes you despite your best efforts to remain quiet. You crouch down, trying your best to hide among the huge containers of chemicals.

You hear a loud thud as the giant bear sits down in front of the door, as if trying to make sure it doesn't open. Your small eyes widen as you look over at the rockstar. They're even bigger up close! Staring up at this giant your heart rate increases, fear rushing through your body. This isn't good. This could very well mean death!

"I know you are in here Superstar. I am not here to harm you." You hear the bear say, flinching at the sound of his voice. He knows you're here. What a great day this was turning out to be. You begin to look around the room to find some type of exit route. Nothing obvious catches your eye. Your heart sinks. You're stuck here with this monster of an animatronic with no way out but the door behind him.

As you come out of your thoughts you look up at the bear, noticing his glowing blue eyes have fallen on you. Your heart practically stops and you let a whimper, backing yourself into the large gallon jug of chemicals behind you. Nowhere to run.

The bear's eyes soften at your clear fear of him. He sighs, looking forward once again to try and not seem as intimidating.

"I am sorry for scaring you little one, but I noticed you injured your arm. If it is not set correctly it will not heal. I only want to help." He explains, glancing over at you again to make sure you're listening. He can tell that even being close to you may not be the best idea right now, but with an injury like yours it's important to get you to a first aid station. How to talk you into letting him take you though?

You look down at your arm, carefully pushing down on it to figure out what's broken. As you push down on the lower part of your arm you feel a bone shift and let out a whimper of pain. You had no idea how to set something like this, having lost your parents at a young age and being unable to truly figure it out on your own. Thankfully you had avoided situations like this. Until now that is.

As you sit there, sandwiched between large jugs of chemicals and one of your biggest fears, you can't help the tears that begin to fall down your cheeks. You've been trying to avoid this for so long and now it's all happening at once. Freddy looks down at you, sympathy in his kind eyes. A part of him really wanted to hug or at least hold you but he knew better than to try that. After all that probably wouldn't help your current situation.

Through the hot tears blurring your vision you take notice of the huge paw that's been set, palm up, in front of the chemicals. You guessed this was his way of giving you the choice. He didn't seem to want to force you, but was clearly worried about your injury. Fighting your fear as best you can you do something you never expected yourself to do. You walk forward, carefully stepping into the bear's palm and sitting down. You bring your legs up to your chest, hugging them and hiding your face as a last line of defense.

Watching you move towards his paw causes the bear to audibly gasp. He didn't expect you to actually be willing to let him hold you. After all, you seemed to be absolutely terrified of both himself and Monty. He was grateful though, absentmindedly curling his fingers inward in a protective way. You flinch as the bear begins to move to get up, causing him to stop. Maybe rushing this wasn't the best idea.

"What is your name superstar?" You hear, tear filled eyes going up to meet glowing ones. Should you give it? What did you have to lose after all?

"Y-Y/N" you manage, voice trembling from fear and cracking from crying. You see an obvious smile on the star's face and he nods in response.

"It is wonderful to meet you Y/N!" He replies happily, though keeping his voice lower so it doesn't startle you. For this you're grateful seeing as you're already close to having a panic attack. "My name is Freddy!" He continues. As if you didn't already know that. His name was plastered on just about everything in this place. Maybe it was just a politeness thing?

"I-I know." You state, looking him over for the first time since all of this began. You hadn't exactly stopped since you were still in the walls. Everything was a blur and to your surprise actually looking at the animatronic grounded you and kept you from the panic attack you felt was fast approaching. Up close he was still quite intimidating, but it was easier to see him as another being rather than some giant monster hell bent on harming you.

As you look down at the paw you're sitting in, you become aware of how oddly soft it is. Isn't he made of metal? Without really thinking you reach a hand out, touching the surface you're in with curiosity. For a moment you forget the situation you're in. Its not exactly skewed in your favor. After all, you've seen this bear lift metal beams and whole sets of furniture with one hand. With thoughts like that coming to you, you bring your uninjured arm back around your legs and pull them a bit closer with it, trying desperately to feel safe.

Noticing your movements the bear speaks. "Are you alright little one?" No. No you aren't. That wasn't exactly something you wanted to admit though. Turning towards the bear you glance up, unable to maintain eye contact. You're grateful he hadn't immediately decided to get up and start moving, apparently listening to your subtle protest. "You can move around. I will stay completely still."

You turn your head to the side in confusion as you look up at him. What was he getting at exactly? Maybe he just wanted you to feel like you had the choice? It was definitely working. "W-Why don't you feel metal?" You ask, trying to make some form of conversation. Maybe it would take your mind off of things.

"Well, I was created to be more life-like for the children. That includes a different material for my casing as well as heaters so I am not cold to the touch." He explains, you listen intently. It makes sense. The children you'd seen absolutely loved the stars and were always around them. With all the hugs and photos it made sense they'd want something that's going to be touching children to be more life-like so they're more comfortable. You didn't understand the claws and fangs though, wasn't that dangerous? Speaking of which, those claws were pretty close to you.

Catching you staring, the animatronic quickly flattens out his hand so they aren't so close to you, prompting you to flinch at the sudden movement. "We are programmed with the inability to harm a human. I am…..unsure of what you are but you look human. You have nothing to worry about." He says, seeming to be making an effort at calming you down.

"A-A borrower…….I-I'm a borrower." You explain. The bear blinks for a moment, as if thinking.

"I have no species by that name in my database." He says once he eventually comes to.

"That's because we aren't supposed to exist. Our main rule is don't get caught. Anyone who does is…….eh w-well…….they usually don't come home." Hearing these words, Freddy's expression becomes one of sympathy. This little one must have had quite the life. He told himself right then and there that he would do all he could to keep this little one from harm.

"I am…..sorry to hear that. I promise you that I only wish to help you. If you will let me, I know how to fix your arm." At this you look up at the bear. Should you let him help? He hadn't harmed you so far and if you let it heal on its own the bone could heal incorrectly and you'd lose some motion in your arm. It seemed like you only had one choice.

"O-Okay….."

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[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

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*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

[pennyl4n3]

The Pool

*Taking a deep breath*

Well well well, this is my first fanfic (or should I say second or third? Btw, this one came to a conclusion) and I've never been much into writing, but Duskwood and all of you fantastic people in the fandom here brought me to this. I hope you like it, and of course I look forward to your comments and feedback.

Pairing: Jake x MC

Contents: Angst, Sadness, Fluff, Romance

It had been three months since his last contact with her. He'd had to disappear from the radar, the government breathing down his neck. Every day he fought the urge to write to her; he couldn't risk putting her in danger. He couldn't even risk reading her conversations at the moment, so he was as blind as she was.

He didn't know where she was, if she was okay, if she was mad at him, though after all this time he imagined she was. The last time they had written to each other she was in Duskwood and he had every intention of finally catching up with her. Things hadn't gone as planned unfortunately, and the deal he was trying to make with the government had fallen through, forcing him to become a fugitive again.

He was exhausted, he was free and yet he felt imprisoned in an endless loop. Ever since he had met her he had realized how heavy his condition was to bear, how much he missed talking to someone in person, how much he longed to get out without having to disguise himself. He wanted to move, to run, to be outside, and above all else he wanted to run to her, and hold her, look into her eyes, tell her in his voice how much he missed her.

While he was lost in these thoughts he scrolled through their last conversations, rereading every word and every comma. At one point he found the conversation in which they had talked about one of MC's great passions, swimming. He barely knew how to float, he had never had a chance to learn it as a child, and on that occasion he had promised himself he would try it someday. MC had told him about a public pool in her hometown that was easy to get into at night through a gate with a broken lock. She had gone there many times, when she needed to relieve her nerves and to be alone. Suddenly Jake felt the urge to see that pool, and set about finding it. Amazingly it was a couple of blocks from where he was hiding, the next step was to check the security cams near the building and along the way. He could do it without too much difficulty, and he really needed to get some air and some purpose, so he slipped on his sweatshirt, pulled on his hood and mask, and set off.

He arrived within minutes, constantly looking around. The streets were practically empty, but caution was never too much. The pool was a low building, all on one level. Mentally following MC's directions he managed to find the little gate, behind some bushes. It was still broken, unbelievable. Curiosity was stronger than him and he continued towards the entrance. His footsteps echoed in the hall, as he went down the few steps that led directly to the pool floor, the smell of chlorine filled his nostrils. Even though it was night he could see almost all of the interior well, thanks to the huge windows that almost reached the ceiling and let in the illumination of the street lamps, just as MC had told him.

He sat on the steps and stayed there for a while, lost in his imagination, even though he had never seen MC, enjoying that moment of peace, and trying to imagine her doing something that made her feel good...

A noise outside startled him, he ran off the steps and flattened himself against the wall. He waited in silence, his nerves on edge, his heart in his throat, his eye searching for possible alternatives escape routes. another metallic noise, and the angry meows of two cats fighting each other. Jake breathed a sigh of relief but waited vigilantly for a while longer before heading for the exit with shaking legs. When he returned to his shelter, he promised himself he would never try it again, but that was not to be. He returned there two more nights, until he decided to get a swimsuit and try swimming.

And so Jake found himself inside the pool, scared and unsure at first, but after a few minutes he began to feel the benefit of being in the water, the lightness provided by its support. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he continued to go there as many nights as he could. He would return to his hut tired but satisfied, and he could even get a decent night's sleep.

One evening he was trying to swim as usual when he heard a female voice saying jokingly, "well, I thought I was the only one who knew this place, but apparently not." Jake froze, almost having a heart attack. He was in the water, there was no way to escape. He drew a deep breath, thinking that it was anyway dark enough, and that his features weren't clearly visible, and decided to try not to look too suspicious. "Yeah, apparently not" he replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The girl smiled, or so it seemed to him, and continued, "I guess you like to be here alone, just like I usually do, but I could really use a swim tonight. I'll go in the back lane, I swear I won't bother you. Is that okay?" "O-oh yeah, yeah, go ahead," Jake mumbled, trying to hide his face as much as possible, and stood watching her as she made her way to the other side of the pool, still shocked that there was another human being in the same room as him. He realized that he was staring in her direction, and decided to start swimming again. After a while he stopped, out of breath and with tired arms, and saw that the girl instead was still swimming, at a brisk pace, and giving no sign of wanting to stop. He got out of the water and sat on the steps, wrapped in his towel, trying to catch his breath. Watching her was hypnotic, she moved with fluid movements, slow and steady. He wondered if MC swam like that too. How he wished he could have written to her to tell her he was swimming, or at least trying to, and to thank her for letting him discover this wonderful new experience as well. Since he had met her, his life had taken on a new light, where before only greyness and despair reigned.

His phone made a sound, bringing him back to reality. It was time to go home. He dressed quickly and headed for the exit, he didn't want to interrupt the girl's concentration, and he didn't intend to introduce himself, so better that way. Once back at the shelter he went back to work on his laptop, while eating a sandwich. Concentration continued to leave him that night, however, as the encounter with the stranger had brought him back to MC in a big way.

He returned to the pool the next evening, yearning to tire himself out and find some peace of mind. Once he got to the door he heard the sound of water coming from inside, he carefully pushed his way across the threshold, trying to figure out who was there and was relieved to see that it was again the girl he met the night before. He walked over to his side of the pool and removed his clothes as he cast furtive glances at her. He dove into the water and began to swim, trying to focus on his breathing, which was the part he struggled with the most. When he emerged with bated breath, he saw the girl standing at the edge of the pool and winced. "Hi, I didn't mean to scare you. I've been watching you swim and I thought I could give you a few tips, if you don't mind" Jake was so amazed and scared that for a few seconds he could only stare at her with his mouth open. "I-I...I don't.... " she giggled softly and shrugged her shoulders "Ok, look, I didn't mean to embarrass you...I'm going back to my lane. If you want it you know you can ask it okay?" And she turned to go back to her lane. "Wait. Yes, please I will gladly accept your help." Jake said. She retraced her steps and squatted down beside the edge of the pool with a smile on her face. "So, first let's start with your upper body, I've noticed that you move it a lot between strokes and that wastes your energy and breath. Try to stand up straighter, your arms and legs do most of the work. Then, every time you pull your arm forward, you can inhale if you feel the need to, and slowly you'll find yourself pulling two strokes, then three, and so on, but don't be in a hurry. If you take care of your technique well, managing your breath will already be easier." Jake was focused on her words and nodded, before turning around and trying again. Following her advice actually felt like he was already doing better. A wave of satisfaction ran through him when he managed to do his usual laps without getting breathless. He emerged smiling and sat on the edge of the pool. She was still there and looked at him approvingly, then asked "Better now, isn't it? "Yes, thank you very much." He answered. "Thanks to you, I'm just back in town but I'm not having much contact with the rest of the world, helping you was a pleasure" "I... I understand, I didn't have much contact lately either". A slightly embarrassed silence fell between them. It was Jake's phone that broke it, by emitting an alarm tone. Jake got up quickly and headed for his bagpack. "I, uh, have to go now, thanks again for your help." She looked at him briefly, nodded, and stepped back. "Oh, yeah, sure, no problem. Well, good night then" and walked back to the pool. "Good night" he replied, and as soon as she turned around, he changed his wet swimsuit with dry clothes and headed quickly to the exit.

As he walked down the street, he wondered if he wasn't risking too much by going to the pool regularly, and by confiding in that unknown girl. He then decided that it would be better to avoid it for a while, even if it was with great regret.

Jake avoided the pool for a few days, but eventually decided to go back. He couldn't wait to get there. As he walked the short distance between his hiding place and the pool, he mentally savored the feel of the water, the smell of the chlorine, the relaxation it gave him to swim until his muscles ached. As always, he sneaked up on the hidden entrance, his senses all out to catch any suspicious movements or noises. That evening, however, he heard no suspicious noises as he entered the large room with the tanks, but a soft sobbing. He listened for a while, trying to distinguish where the crying was coming from. When he spotted the silhouette of the mysterious girl on the steps he felt a tug at his heart, and could not help but go near her.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he said softly.

She looked up with a jolt, and when she recognized him she answered a little annoyed: "What do you think? No, everything is not okay." She immediately realized she had been abrupt, and added in a tone of apology, clutching her knees to her chest: "Sorry, I didn't think you would come, I haven't seen you here in a while and you caught me off guard..." "It's okay, no need to apologize. I guess I interrupted an intimate moment of yours. It's just that hearing you cry made me worried somehow." He replied to her as he blushed, realizing what he had just said. "I-I meant...well I mean, sorry if I m-maybe I embarrassed you, I should probably go and..." hinting back. "No, wait. Please stay. If it's not a problem for you of course. I don't really feel like being alone anymore." she said as she reached out a hand towards him and motioned for him to sit beside her. Jake was tense, the last thing he had expected that night was to find himself consoling the mysterious girl, but he certainly couldn't leave her there alone, she had always been very kind to him and he was sincerely sorry to see her sad. He exhaled a deep breath and went to sit next to her as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of his backpack and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said with a smile, "I really appreciate it." For a while an awkward silence descended, during which they both stared at their hands. Suddenly she blurted out "You know, I'm worried about someone, that's why I was crying. I haven't heard from him in a while and I don't know what to think. I'm trying to move on, I promised him, and really, I'm trying so hard, but some days the weight of his absence is so hard to bear that I can barely get out of bed. Whatever I do the thought of him is with me. This is the only place I can find some peace, because swimming empties my mind b-but t-tonight..." her eyes glazed over again as she swallowed, trying to push back the tears. He had listened to her in silence until that moment, respecting her moment of venting, but when he realized she was about to cry again he felt he had to do something, so he passed his left arm behind her back and pulled her to him, gently holding her in an embrace. "I-I can understand it, you know? I promised one person I would move on too. But it's so hard. I want to call her, I want to write her, I want to know how she is doing, where she is...but every day I forbid myself to do that. And I know I owe it to her, because she doesn't deserve to keep feeling bad because of me and my mistakes and..." his voice faded away, as he realized that he was risking to say things he shouldn't have said, he recovered quickly trying to cut it short and not to let the tremor in his voice be heard "...and I understand you, that's it. I miss her so much too."

As they stood in silence, his heart running fast in his chest and he desperately looking for something else to say, he felt her draw back into his embrace and sigh. It felt good to have her in his arms, and feeling her calming down warmed his heart. It had been so long since Jake had touched anyone, not really talked to anyone, hardly remembered what it was like. A little later she said softly, "Thank you. For sharing a little piece of you with me. You don't need to talk about it if you don't feel like it, I understand. It's... " she stopped thoughtfully, "Complicated" finished Jake. "Yes, yes exactly! It's damn complicated. But knowing that someone can understand me makes me feel better." then she turned to him and drew a deep breath, then added, "Well, how about a swim? After all, this is what we both came for." Jake nodded and removed his arm from her shoulders. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He got up from the steps and walked over to the usual little corner where he used to change his clothes, while she headed to her pool lane and dove in. Once he slipped into his swimsuit, Jake entered cautiously, still pensive from that brief but intense exchange of confessions.

He slowly dived down to the bottom and stayed there for a while, still immersed in his thoughts. He had to stop those nightly outings. They were already dangerous in themselves, and now this unknown girl had been added, making him talk too freely. All of his inner alarms were telling him it was time to stop, and it was also time to change hiding places again, even though being so close to a place in MC's heart made him feel closer to her.

A movement to the side of his field of vision brought him out of his thoughts, and out of the pool as well. When he got to his feet he ran a hand over his eyes and pulled his hair back so he could see better, turning to face the source of the movement. He saw her in the aisle next to where he stood, staring at him. "A-are you ok?" said him in an uncertain voice. She giggled and replied, "I was going to ask you the same thing, you weren't coming up out of the water anymore." "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I scared you, I was just... well, reflecting." he replied. She stared at him intently, looking at his black hair, stuck to the sides of his face, and said tilting her head "It's weird you know? You remind me so much of him, the way you behave somehow, I can't actually explain it". Jake blushed and swallowed hard. "I'll take it as a compliment" he replied, and stepped out of the water. "I have to get back. I hope you feel better now." continued, while heading to the bag of dry clothes. She stood staring at him, wondering if she had made him uncomfortable with that confession. When she realised he was about to undress she turned around, blushing. She waited for a while and then sat down on the edge of the bath and said with a smile, "Yes, I'm feeling better, thanks to you. Good night, stranger."

When he arrived to the hut, something alarmed him: some of the boards near the entrance were placed differently than he had left them. He quickly stepped into the shadows and took out his phone to check inside. Two men were sitting at his usual spot, peering at the screens. Jake was quick to slip back downstairs and to reach out his hiding place number two, three doors down. As soon as he was seated, he took his phone out of his jeans pocket and started the hidden cameras. The two men didn't seem to have any idea what they were looking at, and they didn't look like officers either, to be honest. Maybe two thieves? But what kind of thieves would break into an old warehouse with the windows covered by boards? What did they expect to find there? He carefully examined the video images from the cameras he had placed around the rest of the perimeter of the building and saw a couple of policemen in the back. "Fuck!" he whispered through his teeth. He prepared to format everything in the hiding place and stood vigilantly by, watching them alternately. The two intruders were probably hiding from the cops, and risked exposing him. He noticed that there was a car shop next door and decided to create a diversion. He quickly managed to hack into the shop's security system and set it to go off, so that the cops could be sent away. He then logged on to his workstation and simply brought up Nymos, some glitches and the words "intruders detected, defensive protocol activated" on the screens. It was more than enough to send the two of them running for the hills.

He sighed with relief, letting himself down on the makeshift mattress behind him. He stayed like that for a while as he listened to his heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, his adrenaline slowly subsiding, his breathing becoming regular. His stomach rumbled, so he reached into his bag and pulled out an energy bar. After an hour or so, he locked the entrance to the main hideout and went back the way he'd come: better stay there for the night. As he settled in for the night, streams of thoughts came over him. He realised that the idea of leaving MC hometown made him feel lost, even though she wasn't there, and it wasn't even certain that she would return. Still, he knew he had to leave, that evening's mishap was another proof of that. There wasn't much to think about really, he had to move again, maybe he'd come back later. He thought of the girl at the pool, of her pain, so familiar. How was it possible that love could always bring so much suffering? He drifted off to sleep with those thoughts in his head, and woke up restless.

The next morning Jake was almost done packing up all of his belongings and ready to go. He wondered if once he was settled into his new hiding place, he would find another pool where he could train undisturbed, so he set about identifying all the potential candidates. How he wished he could have told MC about this! As he scanned the pools and studied their surroundings it occurred to him that he could write her using a disposable phone before leaving. His hands began to shake at the mere thought of being able to write her again. Would she be happy to read it? Maybe she was angry with him. In their last conversation she had told him to at least let her know if he was alive as soon as he could. Before he could think about it too much longer, he stormed out of the room and headed for the first open store. Once he retrieved the disposable phone he went back to the spare hut and slipped into it with all his things. He turned on the phone and prepared it for use.

*??? is online*

Jake:Hello, MC.

Shortly after came the reply

*** MC is online ***

MC:Jake! Are you okay?

Jake:Yes MC, I'm fine. I apologize for not letting you hear from me again, it was too dangerous.

MC:That's okay, I'm so glad to read you now, I kept telling myself that you were definitely fine and that I shouldn't have written you, as promised

Jake felt his palms sweat.

Jake:You know, I've been going swimming lately. At night, on the sly. Your enthusiasm about it convinced me. You were so right MC, it can empty your mind. I wanted so hard to thank you for that.

MC:I went swimming recently too, at night, it kept me from going crazy. Maybe we swam at the same time

Jake: :)

Jake:And do you know where I was? The place you told me about. It was like I felt closer to you

MC squinted her eyes

MC:Jake... you don't mean that place with big windows almost to the ceiling,do you?

Jake:Yes, exactly that.

MC bursted in laugh and shaked her head in disbelief.

MC:And you didn't happen to meet someone? Like a really nice, kind girl who gave you lessons?

Jake felt his knees buckle and had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

Jake:You...

Jake:Was that you?

Butterflies were spreading through his stomach.

MC:So you hugged me the other night! I was crying just for you, and you were there, this is crazy!

MC:Where are you now?

His eyes widened.

Jake:MC me, I was going to leave the town, last night I found intruders in my shelter, it's not safe for me to be here anymore.

For a time that seemed eternal to him there was no sign of life on the other end of the phone.

Jake:MC...

MC:Don't you dare

MC:Don't you dare leaving again. You've been staying here for days, and even allowed yourself to go out almost every night, and you never wrote me anything. Now that we might meet you're starting this again.

MC:We met by accident Jake! Does that seem normal to you???

MC:I'll be waiting there tonight, you better come

***MC is offline***

Jake stared at the phone bewildered. He was terrified. He couldn't believe he had hugged MC the night before. And she was crying, because of him. She was right, he couldn't leave again.

That night he went to the pool, almost running. He sneaked up on the hidden entrance, holding his breath, and went to sit on the steps where he usually rested his backpack. A short time later he saw her walk in and head towards him. It seemed to him that his heart was about to explode. He stood up and walked over to her. They both found themselves running to cover the final distance that separated them. They hugged each other tightly, and stayed that way, without speaking for who knows how long. Neither of them wanted to untie the embrace, as if to do so meant to lose themselves again.

At the end MC pulled back a little to look him in the eyes, and said, "I was beginning to think this moment would never come" "And instead we found each other without even knowing it" he replied chuckling. She blushed and rose on tiptoe to give him a light kiss on the lips.

"Shall we go for a swim?" she told him with a mischievous grin. "Sure. I've been taking lessons" he replied as he began to undress.

[lovebecomeshim]

hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

[hey-there-juliet]

Random Drabble Day (2/23)

Summary: First off, let me just say that this is more like a one-shot than a drabble because I'm a wordy bitch and I cannot control myself 😅

That said, I always had a hard time imagining Julie writing some of the Perfect Harmony's lyrics about herself, so I thought why not make this just another song that Luke and Julie wrote together? This is set somewhere between Finally Free and Edge of Great, in that week when Ray was stress-eating. This is supposed to fit back into the show at the end, so it might seem like a cliffhanger, but it's not.

Quick shout out to @jamestkirkish for betaing this for me! I love you and you are amazing! Any remaining mistakes are my own. And to the fabulous Sloan, for helping me out with Luke's handwriting! Enjoy 🧡

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationship: Juke 💜

in the great scheme of life and ghosts

No matter how many times Luke insisted that she had been snooping through his things, Julie knew for a fact that she had done no such thing. In reality, she had simply been cleaning the studio when she came across it.

For three ghosts who didn't eat and could barely even touch anything most of the time, the boys sure knew how to make a mess. Every morning Julie would walk into the studio to find the chairs or coffee table rearranged, at least one of the rugs was always askew, and the clothes... the clothes were everywhere, and the worst part was: they reeked. 

And so every morning before leaving for school Julie would shoot them a stern look and tell them to pick up after themselves. Which they did - when she got back home, things were mostly in their rightful place. Still, every weekend Julie would make sure to take a moment away from homework and rehearsal to tidy the place up to perfection, just like her mom liked it. She'd dust off the furniture, water the plants, sweep the floor, and even vacuum the whole place. One Saturday when she was home alone (her dad photographing a wedding, and Carlos at a friend's house), she even went through the trouble of washing all of the guys' old clothes.��

Somehow, and she didn't even want to think about how that worked, the clothes didn't stink when they were actually wearing them, but at any other moment when they made no contact with their skin? Yeah... not good. So she washed them all (three times, using every trick and product she had). She washed them a fourth time for good measure and, by the time she was finished, any traces of twenty-five year old mold was gone, and so was the smell.

So no, she was not snooping - no matter what Luke said - when she came across the crumpled paper ball between the couch and the low cabinet, just behind a big vase her mom had gotten from tía Victoria.

Julie sighed, making a mental note to tell Luke to put his discarded ideas in the bin (again) if he didn't want them anymore, when one scribbled and wrinkled word caught her attention: Perfect Ha-

She bit her lip, staring down at the teasing word. Perfect what? Was it lyrics? Maybe half formed ideas? Doodles? Julie knew Luke liked to doodle in the margins of his notebook whenever he got stuck trying to come up with the next best piece of lyric or melody. She also knew she should probably just leave it alone, put it with his stuff to ask him later if he wanted to keep it, or put it in the garbage. Except the more she glanced down at that damn word, the stronger she felt it pull her towards uncovering whatever else the crumpled paper ball was hiding. 

In the end, the pull was too strong. She'd just take a quick look, make sure it wasn't anything important before she threw it away. And, she reasoned with herself, trying to squish the guilt that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach: Luke had gotten rid of it, so he clearly didn't care much for whatever was in there. 

Not able to resist any longer, Julie carefully unfolded the paper, slowly making her way towards the piano and using its surface as a table to help smooth the page over.

Luke's (horrendous) handwriting covered it with the bare bones of a song, random lines were scribbled in the margins with a couple of doodles for company, and even a little note from their bassist - ‘Reggie was here ;)’.

It took her a minute before the chicken scratches became words, and then Julie's breath left her in a rush, as the guilty feeling in her stomach turned into butterflies and flew away with her imagination. 

It was a song, parts of one, anyway, and - more importantly - it was a love song.

Unprompted, her own words came back to her, "Wow, Luke! I didn't know you were such a romantic." Quickly followed by Alex's short reply, "He's not."

She knew now who Unsaid Emily was really about, but these new words were clearly about a different kind of love. The romantic kind, and Julie couldn't help letting herself believe - just for a moment - that the song might be about her.

Before she could let herself be carried away in a daydream, there was a - now familiar - shift in the air, a sound almost like static, the only thing letting her know of a ghost's appearance. Without a thought, she crumpled the page again and shoved the paper ball in her pocket for later inspection. 

"Hey, Julie!" Reggie's cheerful greeting sounded across the studio from where he had poofed in, and soon - with his "help," bless him - Julie was finished with her weekend clean up. 

As if summoned by the end of her chores, Luke poofed in, ready to rehearse. Alex soon followed; and by the time Julie retired for the night, the song had been almost forgotten where it hid inside her pocket. 

Almost.

***

After getting ready for the night, Julie settled on her bed with the wrinkled page and her dreambox. She read over the words again and again, imagining they were about her.

Step into my world, 

Bittersweet love story about a girl 

Shook me to the core 

Voice like an angel, 

I've never heard before, 

- 

You and me together, it's more than chemistry 

- 

Love me as I am 

I hold your music 

Here inside my hands 

- 

You are my brightest burning star 

- 

We create Perfect Harmony.

And unless Luke had been singing with another girl, there didn't seem to be many options on who it could be about, right?

From the beginning, Julie had felt something connecting her to him; to all of them, in different ways. But Luke had been the one to give her a little piece of his soul right after meeting her when he let her use Bright to earn back her spot in the music program. Seeing his passion reflecting back on her, the way he treated music like she used to, made her miss it more than anything for the first time in almost a year. It made her miss the way it felt to use music to connect with her mom.

After they spent a whole weekend finishing each other's songs and working on new ones, getting to know each other's inner workings - the part of them that bled out feelings into paper to create beautiful melodies, Julie knew she was a goner. Finding out he'd been the one to write the words that shaped her taste in rock certainly didn't help. Like he'd been helping her find her way to music long before they even met.

Her crush on him had been inevitable from the start, and while falling for him was probably one of the worst things she could’ve done, it was too late to stop it. She'd been free falling for a while, and hopefully she'd land in his arms soon enough. Reading over his words again gave Julie a warm fluttering in her stomach that made her think he was more than ready to catch her once she reached the ground. 

Carefully folding the piece of paper, she put it inside her dreambox, then placed the box back on the shelf.

***

The following week went by without any hiccups. Every once in a while, Julie would remember Luke's song and a familiar warmth would fill her up, leaving a soft smile on her lips and glazed eyes staring off at nothing. Just as often, Flynn would have to shake her out of her daydreams.

She didn't think much would come of it until her dad decided to throw the band a party so he could film them and post their video on YouTube. Which was fine. Amazing, even. It was most certainly great! Until Luke came to the school, staring at her with his stupid, beautiful, awed eyes, and with his soft, perfect smile, saying things that made her combust and melt, all at the same time.

"I think you make me a better writer." 

    "I think we make each other better."

Calling Nick 'Luke' was bad enough, but slipping into a complete musical sequence as she danced with him? "Goner" didn't even begin to describe her. 

Like the other times they'd written together, the lyrics flowed through her, finishing the song he'd started with the same ease as one would take a breath.

Julie knew that whatever was going on between her and Luke couldn't happen or, if it did, it couldn't last. In fact, in the great scheme of life and ghosts, she didn't know much, but what she did know was that - be it in life or in death - love was constant. 

He didn't need to have a heartbeat or to be able to touch her for her to love him. He was just as real to her as the next person, and whether it would hurt in the long run or not, it didn't matter. 

She knew Flynn was only looking out for her, but that ship had sailed, and Julie was already so lost in his ocean eyes that avoiding eye contact wasn't going to bring it back. She would entertain her though, even knowing it wouldn't work. Just like the tide, eventually he'd pull her right back in.

She could love him just as he was, for however long they had together, and especially after that.

-

End notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it! And, if you'll notice, at the beginning it kind of gives off the impression that Luke eventually finds out about the song and Julie tells him how she found it. Which may or may not lead you to believe that they're in a relationship. I guess it all depends on interpretation though ;)

Oh, also! Shout out to the chaos squad folks that guessed right! You guys are no fun :( /j lmao

[averyauthorship]

Thanks @late-to-the-fandom for tagging me on this. I'm a little dicey on the rules? But I like sharing my writing so it's okay! I'm a little embarrassed to post about fanfiction here, but I've been actively writing so much of it that I don't think I can avoid it. (Hope y'all like RaynxChad from HSM) I did add some stuff to my actual book projects so it looks like I have self control and can write my own characters :)

I know my file names are kinda boring...

Story with witches and stuff

I don’t know where I am—somewhere halfway between the gutter and death. I know what waits for me on the other side of my closed eyelids. I will see my father, my brother. The only family I ever knew, their breath stilled in a silent scream. The explosion was targeting them, not me. But the fact that I’m alive is probably some sort of miracle. Or a curse, as I’m sure most people wouldn’t consider the bastard child’s survival to be a good thing. There’s a blade at my throat, suddenly, and I feel the sharp edge pressing against my Adam’s apple. I’m too stunned and disoriented to move. I do, however, manage to open one eye, and through the grime and blood, I see Mariama. Her face is frozen in shock, and her grip seems to quiver against the handle of the knife. I see the moment she recognizes me—the moment she realizes that her best friend and right-hand of over a decade is actually the shunned prince of the kingdom that put her on the streets.

2. Book

“Well, what’s wrong with here?” Sam asks, almost rhetorically. “I like it so far.” “Just... Nothing ever happens around here,” I explain. “So why here?” I don’t mean to talk Copper Haven down, but it does make me wonder. We have one mall, and it’s technically another city over. And in that one mall is the only movie theater, which is going to be shut down within the next five years. Sure, there’s the college, which makes things a little livelier (especially downtown), but outside of that... There’s not much. And by not much, I mean there’s nothing. There’s a reason I got into fantasy and video games and anime as a kid. Any world was more interesting than here. Sam’s expression is tight, and she absently fiddles with the silverware set on her side of the table. “I had to get away from some stuff,” she admits quietly. “The further the better.”

3. I Still Don't Dance

“Oh, sure.” Ryan laughed fully now, twisting at the torso to face Chad head on. His lips were a little redder than before. Probably because of the kisses. Chad could feel a playful insult coming. About how he needed his best friend to hold his hand to ask Taylor to prom. About how he never once noticed Ryan’s feelings. About freezing up in the movie theater before. But Chad didn’t let him. He kissed him again. And again. Taylor had never been one for physical affection. Chad, on the other hand, loved it. He wanted to kiss and hold his partner close. He wanted to feel their skin near to his and cradle the person he loved forever and ever. Taylor always thought it was silly. It was just one of the many ways they were incompatible. But Ryan… He took Chad’s affection and gave it back to him ten-fold.

4. Document1

Vega rolled her eyes and watched the boys leave. She kept staring after them until they disappeared around a corner. Once she was alone, she frowned, hard. Not only did Mornghoul want to make her life a living hell, but he was also impatient and entitled to her time. She would have at least liked to take a few more bites of Logan’s breakfast before being rushed out the door. Now, she was sleepy, without breakfast, and mad. She let her head drop into her hand. Mornghoul had her so worked up. That’s what he wanted. But how could she be anything but worked up? He destroyed her home first, and then he did the same to Logan. Mornghoul was a cancer, a virus, something that would keep consuming only until it was stopped. Logan was in this now, for better or worse, and he was dealing with so much—his apartment crumbling down around him, leaving his winter classes to travel across the country, manifesting fire magic overnight. Guilt gnawed hungrily at Vega’s stomach. She was helping him now, only with the intention of abandoning him in the end. Or maybe it wasn’t guilt. Maybe she was actually just hungry.

I don't have anyone specific I want to tag, so if you see this, feel free to go ahead and join in! The more the merrier!

Wip Wthursday

Thank you @vcaudley this is good, I like this title. Time zones can go straight to hell.

Rules:

In a reblog (or new post/w rules attached) post up to five filenames of your WIPs, not titles, file names

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be something you wrote in the last 7 days (we're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post!)

After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from, write 3 sentences on it anyway and then 3 more on another to share!

That's it! You can invite others to join in or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request.

I always feel bad admitting my documents really are titled proper chapter titles because I cannot write in them otherwise (like how you can't write in notebook unless it's pretty? Same concept). Here's the five latest updated docs and their most recent snippet.

The Ohn'aran Plains He wanted this ritual to mean nothing. Because if it meant nothing, he was missing nothing. And if it mattered ... Renathal's eyes flashed behind his lenses ... it if mattered, then he and Elisewin were not quite as bound together as he thought.

SU Chapter 5: Promises and Improprieties "Shall I confess something?" "Please do." "I have wanted to do this for some time." "Really?" The Maw Walker craned her neck to catch sight of Renathal's expression. "Help me wash my hair while keeping my casts out of water? That's a very strange and specific fantasy."

Wend Chapter 1: The Master Awaits Propping himself up on an elbow, Renathal eyed his room suspiciously, but a quick sweep of the tidy chamber was enough to convince him nothing had been moved, or even touched. His clothes and armor hung dutifully on their forms, waiting to be donned. His medallion rested on its velvet-lined stand atop the mirrored chiffonier. Each item of purposeless sentiment arranged just so on the mantlepiece, and the rarely-used chairs in front of it, were all in exactly the same positions they had been assigned for eternity. Or at least since he had last redecorated, in... ... when had that been?

Wend Chapter 10: A Reflection of Truth The first question was where. Soulbinding required a Soulforge, a highly specialised magical structure, responsible for conducting anima from one soul to another in a way that bound both together. They were a rarity in Revendreth, due both to the difficulty of their creation and Sire Denathrius' near moratorium on the practice. In all of Revendreth's history, Renathal had only ever known the existence and location of two. All of which he explained to Elisewin as she lay half-tangled in his limbs after the bliss of her initial acquiescence had settled enough to make room for more practical details.

Wend Chapter 8: Mix, Mingle, and Meddle "And you think the Countess would just invite me to her Court for benevolent reasons? Perhaps to apologise?" "Of course not." Renathal chuckled at the thought. "She means trouble. And I mean to give it to her." It was Elisewin's turn to laugh and Renathal caught her round the waist and pulled her into his chair. Far too decorous and staid for two bodies, it creaked alarmingly. Renathal ignored it. He fully intended to be doing this for the rest of eternity. The furniture would simply have to get used to the idea, as would the rest of the realm.

Tagging: @shipping-through-eternity @mousterian-writes @velvethopewrites @diaryofomellas @tsunderewatermelon @frozen-fountain @averyauthorship @yarol2075 @witchcraft-in-wonderland @gummybugg @1legitconnor @tananaphone @karimac @moonluringfrost @27fanficlilies @duckingwriting

[hqprotectionsquad]

Dating! For Science (Kuroo x Reader)

this is for my bestie, ate, and just wonderful person to know, io!!! i’ve gotten to know you over the past few months from the network and let me tell you, it’s probably the best decision i’ve made concerning this fandom. i know this isn’t easy, but you take all of your responsibilities with such grace and i’m always inspired by you. i don’t know anyone else who would have their nickname on the server be writeiolite (lara’s #1 fan) and that just makes me so happy. you make me so happy!! because of you, i have true friends from around the world and of different ages and i actually write!! i’m so honored to know you and i just love you so much. thank you for being you, io! i hope you have a wonderful birthday <3

summary: Kuroo’s tweaking his AI program for his senior thesis and he just needs one thing left to make this true to life: a fake girlfriend. After deliberation, you step in so that he can avoid hurting his reputation and another girl’s heart. What could really go wrong? pairing: Kuroo x F!Reader tw: cursing word count: 3010 a/n: lightly inspired by Black Mirror and the episode “White Christmas” even though that episode doesn’t really have anything to do with fake dating? i was more inspired by their ability to go into someone’s mind, thus leading to the AI aspect of this fic!

There's something about Kuroo that has always drawn you to him. Maybe it was his eyes, his height or hair. You still don’t quite know. But ever since your second year of college, your eyes never left that rooster-headed man. Lucky you; he chose the seat next to yours over the other ones in the lecture hall because he claims you had the best spot, so "sitting next to you is the next best choice."

It's been two years since then, and he won't leave you alone. He insists this is for the best because his best friend doesn't attend college near you two and you're the closest friend he has. Over everyone, Kuroo Tetsurou chose you and will continue to choose you, and you don't really understand why.

The moonbeams shoot into the room through the window. Lately, you've been needing to stay over at his apartment, just to make sure he's still alive. He's been begging the world for his artificial intelligence program to work. He wants something fresh and unpredictable to present for his senior thesis, something that his classmates would envy at and the committee would be in awe of. He'll defend his program swinging, you know that for sure. After moments of just sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him hunch over his desktop computer, the chair swishes and he turns to look at you. "(Y/N), can you proofread this for me?"

“What is it?” You stand to get a closer look and you guide the chair back to the correct rotation. Your arm hangs around his shoulders as you slot your eyes to see better. “Is this a—”

“It’s a girlfriend application.”

“Tetsu, what the hell?”

“What?” His palms face towards the ceiling as his forehead creases. “I need to make my AI as accurate as possible. How else am I going to make it realistic?”

Now, you tilt your head. “You...you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Kuroo’s lips drag into a frown and he shuts his eyes for a few seconds as if he’s shutting off the rest of the world. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“But Tetsu, you’re so charismatic. I thought you must have had a few girlfriends by now.” You think back to all of the times you’ve attended parties with him. He’s essentially been the life of the party and he’s always had people surrounding him while playing beer pong or just funneling drinks down his throat. How could have not had a girlfriend at this age considering his background?

“You don’t have to shove it in my face.” Kuroo drags his fingers down his eyes, nose, and lips. 

“You’ve had hookups, I’m sure?”

“Yeah, but a girl sneaking out of my bed at seven in the morning isn’t the same as having a full-on relationship.” Under his breath, he says, “I wish it was because then I’d be having hookups left and right.”

“You’re so weird.” You laugh at his comment and soon enough, he’s laughing along with you. You settle back on the edge of the bed and he follows suit.

His body weight sinks into the mattress, bringing part of you down with him. "It's one of the last parts of the project, and you know I've been working on it for a while now. I just want my program to be as real as it can get. I know it'll be flawed, but I've got to try to make it perfect as I can, you know?"

"Yeah." You mutter, trying to drown out your blaring thoughts. What you're thinking right now...it's absurd and you shouldn't have it on your mind. But if it all worked out, then maybe you'd— "Kuroo, what if I was your fake girlfriend? For maybe a month, give or take. This way, you don't scare people off and you're with someone you already know."

You can tell he's considering it, based on the way his eyes dart in many ways. "But shouldn't the point of dating be that you get to know someone new?" Kuroo's eyebrow slides up and it's hard to believe that he's never had a proper relationship before. "I know you fairly enough."

"You know me as a friend. It's different when you approach someone as a girlfriend and it's different when it's a hookup," you justify. "I don't even know your favorite color, and I'm pretty sure you don't know mine."

"Isn't it purple?"

You'll be honest, you've never really considered yourself as a "favorites" person who naturally sought out what they loved the most. You found better use of your time instead of boring through magazine quizzes to show what you liked the best. But after thinking, you shake your head. "It's red."

“Why red?” He asks and it brings you back to all of the photos you’ve seen of Kuroo in his old high school volleyball uniform. He’s shown you many and when you first saw them, you were surprised he didn’t comment on how you were biting your lip or looking back and forth to see how he’s changed. And he really hasn’t done much of changing except for growing an inch taller and his hair being somewhat neater, but he looked so confident when he was on the court. The red fabric of his uniform hugged his figure in all the right places. The photo where he’s speaking to all of his teammates—would it be wrong to say you swooned? 

It’s his color. Even now, if he searches through his drawers and checks his hangers, his current wardrobe will have splatters of red all over. Maybe red wasn’t really anything to you until you met him. Because it is his, it is now yours.

“Because it’s a passionate color. It’s love, anger, pain; it’s everything.” For a moment, you forget why you’re here and you have this stupid grin on your face, and then you remember and reality pulls you back. “I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want this to be the reason why we end up falling apart, because you’re a really great friend to me and I love our friendship—” He’s speaking at a pace of a million miles a minute and you’re lucky you can even hear the words he’s saying.

You nod your head once. “I’m sure.”

While you don’t start off anything that day because Kuroo said he wanted to plan everything out before you begin, you also take that day to just be friends and bask in the current relationship you have with one another. Everything’s going to change from this point on, and you know it and he knows it.

You’ve got to admit it; the next time you meet, you’re scared of what’s to come. How do you greet him? How will he take all of his emotions and collate it into data for his prototype? Don’t you feel like you’re being used?

But you volunteered for this. You told him he should date — fake date — someone he already knows. You just wanted that person to be you. Seeing him with someone else would just be twisting a knife into your side. At least you get to control your feelings in this situation.

“(Y/N), it’s good to see you,” Kuroo greets you as you find him in the restaurant you were meeting in. He stands to hug you and you’ll admit, he’s actually trying to form a meaningful relationship, of some sort at least.

“Thanks for buying me dinner, boyfriend,” you wink as you say the last word. He even pushes in your chair when you go to sit. Kuroo settles across from you. He mentions something about already ordering for the two of you but you can’t really focus because he’s wearing an outfit you’ve never seen before. Yeah, those are jeans and a t-shirt, but his winter coat hugs his sides in a way you’d never expect. Your hope is that he actually dressed up for you.

After a waiter comes by your table to place your plates of noodles, Kuroo unloads his information for the AI prototype and he’s not afraid to release it all at once.

“So I have these guidelines I typed up for you,” he hands over this folder. It’s incredibly neat, as you expected of him, but there has to be over ten pages in here. Guessing by the first page, none of the papers will have blank space. “It’s just outlining my hypothesis, my expectations, all of that. You might not have to read it all because it's mostly for my records, but I highlighted the things that I think would be most helpful."

You wipe your hands with the napkin from the table and sift through the materials. "Tetsu, you highlighted mostly the whole thing," you mutter. Taking a glance at the expectations page, you raise your eyebrows. "You said that you expect to not fall in love with me?"

Kuroo bites his lip. "It's more like if I write that down, then it has a better chance of coming true. You'll only need to date me for as long as I need to collect experiences and data. I don't want to let you go as a friend."

You don't bother to respond because you've moved on to the rest of the page. "Wait, you want us to consummate our relationship?" You say this almost too loudly, and Kuroo taps your hand repeatedly to tell you to lower your voice. You press your palm to your lips and after seeing nobody is looking in your direction, your hand returns to the table. “Are you being serious here, Kuroo?”

Kuroo sighs. "I was just thinking that sex would also help in gaining experience."

“You’ve had hookups before.”

“Well, isn’t sex different if you have it with someone you’re dating?” Kuroo can’t quite meet your eyes when he says this.

“So what, we’re essentially friends with benefits now?” You bite back your silly smile and wait for his reaction.

His mouth opens and closes. Finally, he says, “I don’t want to say yes, but basically.” After a beat, his words rush out, “You’re still my girlfriend. That’s established. Girlfriend with many rules and such. Fake girlfriend.” He emphasizes on the word fake, and suddenly, it becomes your least-favorite f-word.

Still, you smile. “Fake girlfriend it is.”

You’re thrown into everything pretty quickly. He introduces hand-holding, and soon after, kisses. He’ll come pick you up after your classes for dates. “For science,” he says all the time. You really can’t believe he’s not your real boyfriend because he’s such a great kisser and after this all ends, his lips will no longer belong to you. Your heart says you should, but knowing he literally writes down his observations after you do anything romance related, your brain says absolutely not.

Now, it’s been about three months since you’ve began “dating” Kuroo Tetsurou. He blames the duration of time on the project, and now, this contracted relationship has an "indefinite" completion, says Kuroo. Through all of the dates, cuddling, and etcetra, he’s probably the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. That’s not saying too much, but whoever you date next will not be able to match up with Kuroo. There are definitely times when you forget that this is all for his artificial intelligence thesis because it all feels so natural, especially when you hold his hand while walking down the street, and when you catch him smiling down at you just for a few seconds. He’s not perfect and you hate it when he talks with food in his mouth, but everything else is pretty good.

Or at least you thought.

“(Y/N),” he calls out when you’re at his apartment on a Saturday afternoon. Nowadays, you’re at Kuroo’s place. You have study sessions with him, eat dinners, and close off nights with his arm around you when you watch a movie. He’s seen almost all the parts of you and you don’t even mind. He molds a spot for himself in your heart and he doesn’t even know it. All he knows is that you’re the fake girlfriend for his project, and maybe a trial girlfriend before he truly finds the one he loves.

You’re digging into the refrigerator, scanning the shelves and drawers to find a perfect movie snack. Would chocolates and gummy worms go well together? Or maybe fruit for a change...

“(Y/N), come here,” Kuroo reiterates as he’s relaxing on the couch in the other part of the apartment. After you find your snacks — you give into the dark chocolate to pair with the salty popcorn — you make it over to the living room, settling the candy on the coffee table.

“What’s up, babe?” Pet names flow out easy like the water in a river and you don’t know when it started, but it turns out Kuroo has taken a particular liking to this one. You settle in close, tucking yourself into his side with his arm still resting on the top of the couch.

“I was thinking about the AI thing,” Right, because this isn’t supposed to be real. “I think sex is the next thing we have to accomplish and I think that’s essentially all I need for the project.”

You have to blink a few times, just to make sure those were the words that came out of his mouth. You shift your body to face him and you’re no longer pushed to his side. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kuroo shrugs with his lips pressed together. There’s a chill that rushes through your body. You should have stuck to the contract because you know Kuroo did. You know that he did not stray from it for a second, despite all of the hugs and kisses you’ve shared. You knew this was coming, yet you still don't want to see it in front of your face. The two of you live in this cloud of smoke that this project has forged, and Kuroo will be fanning it away soon.

You don't know what to say anymore. On one hand, it would be simple to ignore your sense of direction and throw away every platonic feeling you have for Kuroo, just to try and work out a relationship without strings. On the other hand, your actions directly affect Kuroo and you'd feel horrible if you messed up his project, whether if it was because you abandoned ship or acted on your feelings and your relationship turned sour.

Any way you think of it, nothing comes out right.

“(Y/N), come on, talk to me.” He pats the hand that rests in your lap, but still, your head won’t get out of this fog. Is this what it’s been this whole time? You should have paid more attention to yourself, to see the exact point where you let yourself go and live in this cloud of smoke.

“I don’t know what to say.” You don’t look at him. “Is it wrong to say that I don’t want to do it? That I feel used?”

“You said this was like friends with benefits when we first began. You saw and read everything in the folder I gave you. This isn’t supposed to be real, we were supposed to be together for this project.” Kuroo sighs. “For God’s sake, (Y/N). You offered. You literally offered, and you did not have to do this.”

If you felt like crying before, well, now you’re really crying. You’re trying to have some sort of semblance of a composure, but with you wiping your eyes with the back of your hands every few seconds, it’s hard to know what exactly you’re feeling.

“(Y/N)...” Kuroo longs to reach for you, but you shift farther from him on the couch, making creases in it. You’re sure he feels like the bad guy now, but this is nothing but your fault, and you’d like to own up to it, if only you’d stop fucking crying. “(Y/N), come here.”

When you finally look up at Kuroo through your oceans of tears, you can’t tell if it’s your currently impaired eyesight or if he’s also shedding a few tears.

“Look, I like you a lot, and I like you romantically. I won’t lie about that. I have for a long time, and when you said you’d be my fake girlfriend, I was scared. I’m not the best at knowing lots of things that aren’t academic, but I know for sure that these things never turn out right.” Kuroo takes your hands when you inch toward him. He rubs the back of your hands, the pads of his fingers sopping up your fallen teardrops. The man here is unfolding the hardened layers he used to have, revealing his softer insides. “Fuck, maybe I thought,” Kuroo stops to stand and pace back and forth in the room you’re in. “Maybe I thought if I threw myself into my work and take everything logistically and treat it like a project with no feelings, then it could all be justified in my head.”

You don’t know what else to think, so you just do.

You mute his next words with your lips and when you release, you’re sure you look like a mess with the tear stains along your face, but he tells you you’re beautiful anyway.

“Be my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. Nothing for the project, though I’m pretty sure I had enough data from the point of two weeks in.” There’s Kuroo’s cheeky self, the one you’ve known and been longing for.

“You’re so stupid.” You roll your eyes. “God, my boyfriend is so stupid.”

He lifts you into a bridal carry, the crook of his elbow caressing the back of your knees. “Do I still look stupid?” But he doesn’t let you answer his question. His lips are on yours. Your hands press against his cheeks and his hair brushes against your face.

“I like you a lot, stupid.”

“And I like you a lot too.”

general haikyuu tag list: @dorkyama @kingkags @clowninfortodoroki​ @ykchaos​ @kingkagss​ @alienvarmint​

please let me know if you’d like to be removed from the tag list via ask!

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[stimmypaw]

stimmypaw reads the apprentice’s quest, a blog post

A big one, just a bunch of thoughts as I’m reading it, of course, lots of spoilers for the first book in the Warrior Cats series A Vision of Shadows. This will be covering just the first book tho, it’s all in the Read More, let’s gooooooo!!!!

Vision Of Shadows time

Lots of new cats!!! I don't remember these guys as kits or anything wrow!!! I like their names but itll take a while to get used to them

Also cant believe they printed stormcloud's dead name

Omg there's a cat named beepaw

I love these cats all of them so much im going 2 cry

All new names are perfect

I FORGOT HOW GORGEOUS THE CAT VIEW IN THE RECENT BOOKS WAS, LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

I'm glad leafpool smokes weed

I love reading from Jayfeather's point of view, his grumpiness hasn't grown on me ever but thats just me, I still enjoy it lots he's great and its fun

Firestar and Leopardstar's characterizations are On Point i love it

OOF i feel so bad when jayfeather is mean to others, poor kestrelflight, I love those two

Lovely Jayfeather moments now its time for the first chapter

I like this duo! Also I didn't think I'd ever say this but shut up squirrelflight one can have fun AND learn with their mentors

Sparkkit sounds nice she makes jingling bell noises when she walks around

Alderkit is chadphobic /j

I can see Alderkit taking deep breaths to relax its rotating in my mind its beautiful

God this first chapter feels so good and comfortable, like eating noodles and chicken nuggets. I am so so deeply in love with it, its gorgeous!

Sparkkit is so perfect too, and Graystripe remembering Firestar aaaaaa

DUSTPELT SAID WHAT? PHDHAHAHHA OH NOOOO I don't remember their relationship much, must have been fun, I love young little creature squirrelflight I MISSED HER SO BAD WOW

I started reading the second chapter and died, I think ill take a break now 2 sleep heehhee

I love them describing twoleg stuff its always so fun and alien, like watching an animal planet show about funny sea creatures.

Also I have determined sparkpaw is my favorite, might be my favorite cat ever next to hollyleaf??? I really identify with her and also she's autistic i have decided that

Alderpaw baby noooo hhhh their mentor at least is trying to show its okay, he seems very emotionally distant so far and alderheart feels very emotionally needy, actually both of them do, did I mention I love Sparkpaw??? I might be imprinting myself 2 much on her

I love how like, its clear both of them are absolutely anxious and worried about others opinions on them, which is clearly something they got from being Firestar's grandkids, deputy kids and leader kids. And bramblestar too, I recall him being quite the anxious lad ahhah. Sparkpaw will be showing confidence and being loud but the second anyone isn't approving of her or she does something "wrong" she gets small and quiet, and she ended up setting a high bar for herself by being good at hunting and fighting so I'm curious to see how that will go. Also there's nothing wrong with being guided through a crowded place to meet others Sparkpaw!!! I bet the two of them would be stuck without not knowing how to talk to others had Needlepaw not shown up. I love them, my gf is mocking me saying I'm a Sparkpaw kinnie.

Apprentices will like learn about a thing and tell everyone about it all the time and assume its always true in every situation and thats valid I love kids like that. Also in my head Needlepaw kinda looks like a porcupine. Oh boo she's fatphobic >:(

I love apprentices they are so fun and silly, just making fun of the leaders like its nothing. The way they are clearly learning and absorving everything their warriors say and do like sponges its just ***chefs kiss***

Omg shadowclan is just full of 12 year olds help

And then the old person said "it sure is hard being old!" And everyone clapped

Shout-out to pretty Riverclan apprentice #481977 I love her

Leafpool: 👁👁

Alderpaw: I knew it im cursed and awful and terrible and I will never amount to anything

I wish the cats didn't seem to be giving up on him so easily though

Ah yes the classic thunderclan move "you suck, into the medicine hole you go"

The way sparkpaw changes the things she says and how she does when it isn't the status quo around her oooooooooooooyeaaaaaaa I love 1 autistic cat

Alderpaw considering your problems lesser than other cats won't help you deal with them better bro

I love Needlepaw's excitement about Alderpaw being a medicine cat apprentice, and her sarcasm, she feels like a preppy teenager

Ahhh this is so good, I am so thirsty for family moments like this, just Alderpaw bonding with grandma, I’ll definitely want to draw this one it’s so sweet.

Oh to be young and silly.

I really am enjoying like, Alderpaw’s struggles to seeing how he fits in the clan, how he fits in himself, how he wants to be seen and what he wants to be, it’s really good. I Am Engaged(tm) With This Plot.

SPARKPAW NOOOOOOO but also Yes I want her to be shown vulnerable and weak please 

POP, god watching this stuff always awful, the cats must have thought he broke her ahahah

Also, really great that they learned from Dovewing and now like leave choices and discussions about prophecies between adults

And plus Brambles seemed to take the time to explain stuff to him, seems he wont be going alone either the 1 thing is that he will be the only one knowing what the journey is really about, why though??? I didnt read Firestar's Quest or whatever why does Skyclan need to be secret??? Seems quite silly really!

YESSSS SANDSTORM GET HIS ASS FIGHT FIGHT LOVE THIS LOVE SANDSTORM

I could feel squirrelflight nearing explosion here, this was very fun, i wish they werent hiding this though!!!

The secret thing is showing to be a plot point so I am once again Very Engaged

Also, wonderful dialogue bit, someone asked Bramblestar why an Elder is going and:

Lovely perfect perfect

I miss you dovewing

SQUIRRELFLIGHT LOVE YOU

Oh boy this is it

Traveling book moment

Graystripe: Soooo you're excited to go on the journey to the old territories and Skyclan?

Sandstorm: Yes! It's been ages and-

Graystripe: I'm sure the tribe will love the visit too

Sandstorm, groaning: Oh noooo I forgot about how the tribe is in the way of every journeyyyyy noooooo they're such a racist caricature, please tell me you have a plan

Graystripe: Yes don't worry about it the writers forgot about the tribe in my comic book so you can just use the excuses i did to actively avoid it

Sandstorm: Oh thank Starclan

Sparkpaw's desperation to prove herself oof, her anxiety with understanding the prophecy, oh boy, and Alderpaw feeling too overwhelmed by the questions and not managing to talk!!!! I am so glad they are both autistic

Hoping "Being Leader" wont mean theyre putting nonsense responsibility on the apprentice again

Ah good Sandstorm is on the lead again, as she should, she should have been leader she would have been great

I can't believe Alderpaw thinks I look stupid and diseased :( /j

Everything about this twoleg scene was scandalous I loved it, Sparkpaw just toppled over a trash bag and they are eating from it, iconic, also did those twolegs throw out a whole turkey? Damn

Its not that Sparkpaw is freakishly good at hunting she is very hungry and constantly on the watch for things to eat

BRO Ive never been in a road where the drivers are this wild, throwing bottles out of the car????? Ive seen Fruit being thrown like once or twice, what the fuck!!! I'm glad they are going to wait until the morning to continue

Okay I was not expecting Needlepaw to show up this girl is chaotic I love her

ACTUALLY YEAH WHY DIDNT THEY TELL THE OTHER CLANS ABOUT THIS SINCE THE PROPHECY IS ABOUT ALL THE CLANS???

Needlepaw is like Rono from Bambi 2 if he wasnt a mean bully and thats very epic

Very curious character though, how come her mentor isnt teaching her the warrior code properly? Is that an issue with all apprentices?? Is the clan overwhelmed by 12 year olds and they won?

Having lots of fun trying to play the game "what animal are they describing this time" the erins made here, im glad they're in a farm. Worried about Sandstorm though :c

Fuck im worried about sandstorm a lot, her wound hurt on Me

Yeah water is good youre right sandstorm

Aw man I hope she's okay let her at least survive to meet skyclan please

NOOOOOOOO SANDSTORMA A AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sandtteooonrjrbbbmmnnnnnnnnnn

I am so sad

Alderpaw denying it, Starclan shining upon their vigil, everything crushed me i cried

Alderpaw considers Nihilism

Haven't seen a cat thank starclan for prey in a while its

Oh look they time skipped a journey! They don't tend to do that thats nice

I'm so excited to be meeting The Skyclan that everyone in the fandom knows now

So far they seem kinda mean but thats most clans at first glance really

Okay somethings up

I uh have heard of Darktail pretty sure he's a bad guy so yeah something really bad happened to Skyclan

Am worried

Darktail sounds like an evil himbo* i may be enjoying him actually

*himbos are usually nice by default so he's just evil and stupid and strong

Does needletail know these cats already?????

Ah

Shit

Oh okay fuck

I've been quietly reading the rest because I am just concerned and I want them to be okay as quickly as possible

Waterfalls are a classic nice

Oh boy time for our unlikely duo of Alderpaw and Needlepaw to get out of a Mess!

I did not expect this to end up with the two of them journeying into parenthood, but I'm happy it did

Well actually I'm very unhappy theyre so lost and there's no sign of Skyclan I am very worried for everyone involved Sparkpaw must be feeling awful!

Twigkit is a great name

Yeah this ended terribly

Overall! Frigging loved it this book was GOOD and a great start for the series I am very excited to read the rest, SO WORRIED ABOUT SKYCLAN THO AAAA the characterizations were great the characters were great the pacing was fun and I didn't get bored once!

I think o only wish I had read this sooner really so I could look up others thoughts without getting heavily spoiled about the last books, I can watch a few videos already though thats a start ahhaha. But yeah it was great and it felt very good to read, haven't swallowed up a book so quickly in a very long time!!! Very happy I finally got my hands on this 💕💖💕💖💕💖 cant wait 2 start the next one

If you read all this, hope you had fun hahaha, ill be making more of these cus theyre fun and I like talking about warrior cats thats just my thing

Til next time

[aki-draws-things]

Hi! Your writing is great and I love it, and I've seen you're looking you're writing prompts, so can I possibly ask for "hiding and injury" with Tybalt & The Cat?

Hello there ~ For a second here I thought Tumblr messed up some asks and such, then I realized you just changed the user name. (At that, I spent like 30 minutes trying to remember what it was. I was like “It was a quote. I’m deadly sure... I just need to remember which.”)

Anyway, let’s get started, shall we? I always love to write of those two brothers~

The first 5 in a row!! I’m actually really proud of it!

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Hiding an InjuryFandom: Romeo et JulietteShip: // Tybalt & The Cat

Tybalt learned, over the years, that coming home wounded was bad, his uncle got angry at him for not being able to avoid his enemies’ blades, for not defending his family better, little it mattered that he may have been alone, or that it was more like an ambush than a proper fight, he was hurt and that meant a failure. And his brother always got worried, it didn’t matter to him that he was eighteen and not a child anymore, he worried nevertheless. Yes, coming home injured was bad, but not exactly avoidable, that’s why he learned to hide them, time after time always better than before. He could fool them all and he was quite proud of that. - He shouldn’t, he knew it already, it was stupid, and yet… -

The fight had been fast, in all truth it was more similar to a brawl, and a stupid one too, Montagues and Capulets didn’t even concern that particular fight, no. Instead a young man dressed in green and brown decided it was the best moment to speak ill of Angelica just because – Well, Tybalt wasn’t sure he heard what he was actually saying, he simply heard the comment he made and it wasn’t nice. - If there was one thing he had learned from both his father and uncle, that would be to fight for his family no matter what. And family, unlike many other could think, meant to the last person of the household. Servants included. Not that the Nurse was a servant, of course. She was much more. -

He felt his knuckles collide with the man’s face, - “Careful, dear kitten, careful of who you’re facing. Don’t waste your skills on some rats just because you want to show them off, save them against dogs.” His brother said once, it was a strange metaphor, but it worked all too well, especially because he called him a cat, even more because that was how Tybalt always called him since he had memory. - and he felt something cold against his side, something ripping his shirt, and his skin. Maybe – Maybe the boy wasn’t just a rat, maybe he deserved some more skills.

What couldn’t be called a real fight was over after not even five minutes, the man crawled away and Tybalt was confident enough he wouldn’t go far before dying; at the same time, though, neither would he if he remained there any longer. The wound was starting to hurt, a no-stopping pulsing pain, and blood oozing slowly down his side.

But he was good at hiding this kind of injuries, he was the best, even. Returning home proved itself to be slower than expected, a hand pressed against the side trying to stop the bleeding, - He could feel it seep through his fingers with every step he took, unstoppable. But he did his best to ignore it. - He blinked to clear his vision as he walked, dark spots dancing before his eyes every now and then.

Everything he needed was already in his room, ointments, bandages, clean towels carefully hidden in the wardrobe, that’s what led him to climb the wall outside his balcony and slip in from there.

It wasn't even the first time he did something like that, actually it was more the times he entered the house from there than the ones he used the front gate, not just when injured. It gave him some kind of safety.

But climbing with an injury and hands slick with blood was harder, somehow he managed not to lose his already weak grip and reached the balcony falling on the bed as soon he was inside. It took him a couple more of minutes to stand and gather everything he needed, he felt like he was swimming, his head forced underwater making him lose any sense of direction. He felt sick at the bare thought of walking. But he had to, how else could he take what he needed?

Grabbing the medical supplies and some water took him longer than expected and when he sat back on the bed he was already exhausted.

"I should... No. No, it's not that bad, I'm just tired. No need to call someone." He thought carefully stripping from the shirt and cleaning the wound. It wasn't large, just deep enough to keep oozing blood even as the pressed the bandages on it and dressed it tight.

His hands were shaking badly when he finally finished, his side felt on fire and he barely had time to push the box under the bed before falling back on the mattress, unconscious.

There was one good thing in all of that, no one would go call him for dinner, he was supposed to be out until late at night, at least that's what he told before going out in the morning, no one would go bother him and he would have all the time to rest and sleep off the pain. Or so he thought.

When he woke up, hours later, in the dead of the night, his side was throbbing painfully, it felt even more on fire than before and he had to grab a basin before throwing up on the bed. It had been only some hours, he told himself as he pushed the basin away on the floor, it was natural the pain was still there. - In a corner of his mind a little voice told him it wasn’t, in fact, natural, but he was too tired to listen to it. -

But the pain was still there when he woke up again, in the morning. He shivered and tried to hide more in the blankets, it wasn't that cold the previous day, it was spring already, and a quite warm one too. It shouldn't feel that cold, nor that sick, nor almost unable to sit on the bed without falling back. Blood seeped through the bandages and on the blankets but he found himself not caring. He felt bad. Really bad. - He looked bad, but his sight was so distorted and dazed he couldn't properly see his own reflection on the mirror. - and worse, he was scared. In no way he could hide something like that, not when death seemed to have warmed up on him, not when he thought he would drop on the floor any time soon. It was just a cut, a little stab on the side, he had had worse, much worse in the past. He couldn't do it alone, no matter how shameful, no matter how angry his uncle would be; he was scared, terrified. Like a child. In all truth he felt like a child, he wanted to cry, to hide, he –

Making up his mind proved to be slower, everything he did was slow, even thinking. Slowly he reached the door, looked outside to make sure the corridor was empty and staggered to the room next to his praying his brother to still be in there.

One knock was enough for the door to open, maybe he was getting ready to go out, maybe he was just passing in front of it, maybe he simply was fast at opening for him.

Fast he was for sure since he grabbed him without even changing expression, he held him up against himself as Tybalt's legs gave out and he slumped against him.

"Run in a little trouble..." He whispered trying to smile and sound as casual as possible, there was something metallic in his mouth.

"Run in a little knife, I would say." There was no amusement in his voice, in contrary, it sounded dark and hollow as he picked him up and carried him back to his room. Dark, yes, but never angry.

"Why my room?" He asked dazed hiding the face against his brother's shoulder in hope to make everything stop spinning, he was already ashamed enough to let his brother see him like that without throwing up on him.

"You have more medical supplies than the whole household, boy." He was angry, Tybalt realized in fear, he didn't call him any of the usual nicknames, that could only mean he was angry.

"I do not..."

"Did you think new bandages and ointments just appeared out of thin air? I know of your little hidden stack. Stop arguing, I'm right." He closed the door with a foot and looked at the bed, the mess of blood on the blankets, and the discharged bandages. - Tybalt was so sure he was furious that he failed to see the desperation in his eyes, the terror settling in at the sight. -

"Let's patch you up, shall we?" He sounded kinder now but in the young Capulet's mind it translated with pity.

Undressing the wound was slow and painful, bandages glued themselves at the broken skin even though the blood was fresh, the skin around was red and hot.

"You should have come to me immediately. Why do you always try to do things on your own? Look at that mess. No, wait... Don't look, it's better." He cleaned the wound with a clean cloth and took out a needle.

"This will hurt a bit." Tybalt looked away.

"I deserve it..." He muttered mostly to himself. Again he didn’t see the Cat’s expression. He wanted to leave the needle aside and hold him, hug him so tight it would hurt, and yes so carefully.

"Bite on this, fine?" He nodded slightly, they both knew it would be useless, he wasn't going to scream anyway. In fact, he resisted one stitch before going limp on the bed, his head falling on the side and eyes closed, it was almost a miracle he resisted until then, he thought he would lose consciousness while still in the corridor. The Cat swallowed and finished the stitches as quickly as he could before dressing up the wound and put everything away until the only sign left that someone had been injured was Tybalt lying unconscious on bloodied blankets.

It was wrong. So, so wrong.

"What a mess..." He whispered before carrying him to an uncomfortable couch and changing the bed, throwing away the blankets and hiding everything that would leave a trace. Anything that had blood on itself.

"You know you can come to me when things happen, kitten." He said fondly putting him back in the bed, half an hour later, and wrapping him in fresh blankets. "I won't get angry if you do. But this... Of course I get angry, my love." He sat on the bed next to him, a hand gently brushing his hair. "I get angry out of fear. I could lose you one day. I could arrive just a moment too late and you would be gone. Don't do it. If you can hear me, - He kissed his forehead, ignoring the heat already rising, he would have time later to worry for that, he would have the rest of the day. - in the name of this love that I bear for you, don't do it. "

***

"Brother...?" He staggered back and turned, eyes wide in fear. Romeo dropped the knife, ran back to Mercutio's body and Benvolio. "Cat... I – I think... - He swallowed and looked up meeting his brother's eyes. A small sod escaped his lips. - I think I run in a little trouble." Since then it became a habit, those words, to lighten things up, Tybalt tried to smile, the blood was drenching his shirt, coming from his mouth, mixing with the tears. The Cat swallowed and grabbed him when he fell, holding him as he laid on the street. Fear settled in, took hold of his heart, threatened to drown him. He swallowed again but still he felt like choking.

"Run in a little knife, I would say." It didn't come out like always, it came out wrong, broken.

"Sorry... - He sobbed. - I'm sorry..."

"Tybs... Kitten… No, don’t be. Everything is okay. - He held him, caressed his face and hair. Tybalt’s head lolled to the side and the world stopped. Just as his chest. - No. No! Tybalt! Tybalt wake up! Wake up. Wake up! Tybalt! No –No!" He grabbed him, shook him, fell on his chest and cried, and screamed, and cursed.

**************

The ending sentence is taken from the Austrian production, because thank you very much, they have this Capulet boy crying over Tybalt and asking him to stand up. And it's just so damn beautiful and tragic and I absolutely love it. Instead of just having Lady Capulet, or sometimes, for a brief moment, Juliet, they have someone who’s actually there, who actually cares and begs. (and who has lines!!! The boy speaks!)