#remember when they were up against the trojans and the foxes had to ask him not to root for them. yeahg

[dayurno]

did you see noras tweet …. of course he’d fawn over jeremy ……

cute cute cute absolutely cute to me that whenever nora tweets something about kevin i get asks asking me if i saw it and agree with it…. you are absolutely cuties and keep me from the noose of having to keep track of what she says

BUT YEAH I HAVE kevin really truly genuinely likes jeremy a lot………. aiya. he’s about to be such a flower to jeremy in tsc and we will have to politely avoid our eyes and pretend that this isnt blatant favoritism on his part. we will have to live with this terrible and lovely truth

[thesunshinecourts]

five curiosities for the next book, after reading the sunshine court

a non-exhaustive list, but five things i'm curious to (hopefully) find out more about in TSC2, or that i have questions about still:

what happened at the trojans' fall banquet (presumably jeremy's first year)? it's a Scandal, and jeremy cannot stand to be around bryson, and annalise has never forgiven him for sticking with exy after that, despite having attended all his games in high school. given the allusions to his stepfather, and also his step-grandfather being a congressman, i can see how jeremy's sexuality might be relevant to the situation—especially if we read into lucas' stiff apology and shame at his implication about jeremy and jean as being born from more than just common decency, but rather knowledge of this being a previous sticking point in terms of jeremy's scandals—but i also keep thinking about what cat said. jeremy has—three. two brothers, one sister. the way she says it, how it sticks out to jean as an odd switch, and the fact that we've only met two siblings – it makes me wonder what happened to the third. or if that's even the right question to ask, regarding jeremy's siblings.

elodie. i'm curious if we learn anything about what happened—by and large, i kinda hope not, if only because then jean has to too, unless it turns out stuart is lying, but that's a very different kind of fallout. (i don't actively theorise he is—at some point, these kids will run out of tolerance for ghost stories coming back to life—but i think its possibility ought to be considered, at least). i think we'll get more flashes of her from jean's thoughts, though, and i anticipate lots of heartbreak lmao

lucas. assuming stuart's contact comes through, and neil's hit goes ahead, we've got lucas in the aftermath of finding out his brother is a monster, and jean saying not to call the police, and then possibly his brother being dead. if it happens any other day—if it happens in west virginia, especially—i suspect lucas might be able to look at it like another domino in the ravens machine falling down, or even that something horrible happened to him when he returned home, but if it's still in LA, after what he did to jean, after jean said no cops-------i can see how that might twist into something more suspicious. who knows! i'm curious to see what happens there. grayson is a monster, but he is still lucas' brother. aaron and kevin still have complicated grief about tilda and riko, and they were their direct, constant abusers; cass never learned until after the fact, and lucas is in a complex space between the two parts of that spectrum. if grayson dies, i think the fallout will be unavoidable for exploration

this is a small one but man, i just want to keep seeing jean's list grow. it tears something out of me every time, and stitches me back together, and i want to go through that over and over, because i want to see a jean who not only hears that his life is his and worth living, but a jean who learns to believe it too

i'm just kinda assuming we see the foxes again, because i remember nora's character list having new details about characters who didn't show up in this one, but i'm also quietly hoping for more thea. their scene made me ache, and he'd never had good defenses against thea, and kevin knew that. jean would kill him for bringing her here made my heart do the !! double-tap. i'm extremely invested in jean, thea and kevin as a unit, and it would be so incredibly wonderful to see more

[allforthegaymes]

Post Evermore drabble

(Andrew x Neil x Jean)

When Neil had told Jean about Andrew, way back in Evermore. Stumbled through shaky words between whichever torture sessions Riko and the Master had scheduled. Jean had wondered how in Neil’s mind, Andrew could ever seem as looking larger than life itself.

His brief meeting with the man at the banquet was nothing remarkable. A short welch for Kevin to cower behind. Likely too drugged to even comprehend what he had been saying.

But the way Neil talked about him then. What information would have been nothings if it had been spoken to anyone besides Jean.

Whispered tid bits as they lay in the dorm at night, fit together onto one bed for the comfort of company. Neil would tuck his face between Jean’s shoulder and talk about how Andrew always sat on the desk when he smoked in the dorm. How even though he was scared of heights, he would always lean far through the busted window screen to exhale smoke. How he took Kevins need for the buddy system in stride, letting the Foxes believe it was Andrew who needed it more than Kevin.

Jean couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful. Even knowing he had no way out of Evermore, at least Neil would have someone waiting who had experience taking care of the post Raven abuse.

The hope drifted slightly when Renee reached out to him. Neil had mentioned the system, how the Foxes were split between being Andrew’s or Renee’s. Hope bruised that maybe he could’ve been one of Andrew’s too.

Hope near crushed when Renee is the one to sweep into Evermore and drag his beaten body out.

He’s not sure why he was so convinced that Andrew would find him intriguing. The man doesnt visit like Renee does. Only making an appearance when Neil and Kevin feel the need to bully their way through Abby’s house to see him.

He is the one who rebukes Kevin’s offer to ask Jeremy to take in Jean with the Trojans. He doesnt give an explanation, just a steady stare towards Jean and a nod to him before they leave again for the dorms that night.

When the Foxes win against the Ravens, and Riko gets his arm near ripped off by the heavy swing of Andrew’s racket. Jean is glad someone else was able to protect Neil from Riko.

When Jean hears about Rikos suicide, and finds himself in that bathtub, and then finds himself dragged through the halls of the Fox Tower to the waiting ambulance. He thinks about whether Neil will be okay with just Andrew to take care of him.

He’s surprised to wake up in the hospital bed and see Andrew sat beside it, more surprised even to see that Andrew’s alone.

The blonde doesn’t offer him any words, but tugs off his black armbands, grabbing Jean’s hands to place them onto the faded, but raised scars beneath. Jean grips onto him harder than necessary but Andrew doesnt sway. A steady force for Jean to lean into.

When Jean releases his wrists, Andrew lets them tangle into his shirt instead while he pulls the bands back on.

“Dont touch me, just touch the clothes.”

Jean hooks one finger around a belt loop and a fistful of the shirt in another, and keeps them right there to fall back to sleep.

Hes moved back to the Fox Tower within a week, Kevin moves to sleep on the couch in order to give Jean his bed, but Jean finds himself crawling into Neil’s every night anyways.

“Does it bother you?” He asks Andrew once.

Neil is fast asleep beside him already but Andrew is sat on the desk by the window, leaning as far out as he can.

He gives Jean the quirk of one eyebrow.

“Me sleeping next to him. I know you two…and you know my…reputation”

Andrew snubs his cigarette out on the windowsill before dropping it to the concrete below.

“I’m not in charge of Neil and I will not be in charge of you either”

“But that doesnt-“

“It doesnt need to make sense,” Andrew shrugs “I told Renee I’d take care of you, and that means letting you have what you need to feel better”

“Would you come over too then?”

Andrew doesnt hesitate, barely remembering to kick off his shoes before he climbs in next to them. He stays closest to the edge of the edge of the bed, “no skin, but clothes are okay.”

Jean turns to his side to tangle his fingers into the sides of Andrew’s shirt, and lets the arm that Andrew slings over his shoulder tug him closer till his nose can be tucked into Andrew’s chest.

A deep breath.

The smell of cigarette smoke, sweat, and cheap deodorant.

Neil mumbles in his sleep somewhere behind Jean, but he tunes it out as Andrews fingers slide into his hair, scratching softly against his scalp until Jean’s breathing evens out, slipping into sleep as well.

[kevindayscrown]

Ah, I love your series with Kevin and Eric so so much! It's so good. Now that you said about prompts, I kind of would like to see Kevin talking with Jean about Eric (and maybe Jean talking a bit to Kevin about Jeremy). Of course you don't have to if you think it wouldn't belong to the plot/series but, if I'm being honest I would like to see your take on this! :')

Hello! Thank you for taking time to send me your request! For some reason, the most asked prompt both here and on insta was Kevin/Jean and their discussion about Eric! So I'll start with this one (and you were the first to send me it).

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Extra Content Part 2

Ghosts

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts, and follow this link for the fan fic version.

Kevin still rarely talks about Jean Moreau and everything cruel that took place in the Nest. He touches very briefly upon that subject, and even when he does, he hardly ever mentions the former Raven backliner.

He knows that Eric won't push it but it becomes clear that, as the final match between the Foxes and the Trojans approaches, Kevin is more jittery and nervous.

Usually, he expresses these emotions through being extra snarky. It's also the match that will declare the champions of the season, which only adds to his demands on court.

The Foxes can hardly stand his behaviour, so they let Eric do damage control. He seems to be the only one able to tame Kevin after a total of seven hours of practice per day.

Eric has managed to find a few of Kevin's buttons that help the other relax and ease off the tension, but it doesn't always work.

It does nothing when the day of the game finally arrives.

This year, it's a home game for the Foxes, so they are saved from the trouble of travelling across the country. They can hardly accommodate the crowd this match will attract, but they know they will still have the support of their loyal fans.

Eric takes a seat fifteen minutes before first serve. He can see from the stands that, even during warm ups, Kevin is unusually silent for someone who can't stop talking about the Trojans or about game tactics.

The game finally starts and it reminds the ice hockey player of a death match. There is violent collision of bodies, curses and fights, but it's apparently all fair game. It surprises Eric, but not enough to make him take his eyes off of Kevin.

The way he moves on court, brings about a wave of pride that overwhelms Eric. He can't help the smile on his face nor the way he cheers every time Kevin scores.

However, much to the Palmetto students' dismay, the Foxes lose 8-10. The 'renovations' the Trojans did to their lineup last year and the addition of perhaps the best Class I bakcliner on their team, is enough to create the small point gap needed to secure them a victory.

Eric can already tell Kevin will not be happy about it. He decides to give the team time to process the loss and waits outside of the Foxhole Court.

Which means that the Foxes have to deal with Kevin taking their ears off about everything that went wrong. Only few of them could tell, however, that Kevin was probably judging himself the harshest for every lost opportunity.

No one wants or has the guts to tell him that many times, Kevin would hesitate simply because his offence was met with Jean's defence.

The only one who decides to do something about it is Neil. Jeremy Knox seems to agree to his plan and the two of them manage to persuade both teams to help.

And that's how Kevin finds himself facing his former teammate as he comes out of the showers, dressed and ready to leave.

The number three on the other's cheek makes Kevin want to reach for his own tattoo, to look in the mirror and see if the '2' is still there.

"Jean," he says and walks over to his locker. "What are you doing here?" His voice comes out somewhat empty and void of emotions, even if there is a whirlwind of them in his head.

"That was a good game. Your hand seems to have almost fully healed," Jean says instead.

Kevin flinches. He remembers the night he left and he is sure Jean does too. He is sure that Riko took all of his rage out on the one left behind.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he finally says.

Jean says nothing at first. He simply stares at the other. They are obviously both still haunted by ghosts of the past. And Kevin is still weighted down by the guilt of thinking only of himself that night, no matter how injured he had been.

"It doesn't matter now. That's in the past. We have both gone our own ways."

Kevin can see that. Jean looks... healthier. He has gained weight and his light skin looks less ashen than it did the last time Kevin saw him.

"The Trojans-"

"The Trojans have taken me in and have helped me stand on my own two feet. It was the best thing you could have done for me."

Kevin nods. He had known that the two of them would never be able to play on the same court together again, exactly because of their shared past.

"And I thank you for it. I know the Foxes are right for you too."

Kevin is not so sure about that sometimes, but he knew that if Wymack had not taken him in, he wouldn't be here now.

"Are you happy?" Jean finally asks. It sounds almost absurd; the two of them, happy. They had never even been allowed to make such thought in the past.

But he thinks of Eric, he thinks of his father, he thinks of all the victories he has shared with the Foxes, and nods.

"I am."

"So they were right. About you and that hockey player."

The last thing Kevin expected out of a conversation between him and Jean was to talk about his love life. But eventually, he nods slowly in confirmation.

"Yes. They were right. We are together. We have been for several months now."

Jean crosses his arms on front of his chest and watches Kevin carefully, as if calculating what to say next.

"If he can tolerate you for months now, then I suppose it does work out."

Kevin could hear the meaning behind those words. 'Don't screw up'. But he has already done so once and he isn't planning on doing it a second time.

"It does. My boyfriend comes to all my games and is there when I need him. That's enough."

Jean nods, and there is a far off look that tells Kevin that he is thinking of something similar.

"Give Jeremy my thanks. Tell him that tonight's game was good enough that it almost doesn't feel like a loss."

The small laugh that comes out of Jean catches Kevin off guard. He supposes that the Trojans have done a lot more for Jean than he had expected.

"I'll tell him. He seems to value what you have to say," he says and Kevin scoffs, grabbing his duffel bag from the locker before closing it.

"And of course you would know." Normally, someone would perceive this as teasing, but Kevin is very clear about the meaning behind his words and is sure that Jean has also understood.

"I spend a lot of quality time with my Captain. I've gotten close with him, as it's expected."

Kevin just nods, walking besides the other towards the exit.

"We will see each other again on court next year," he finally adds once they are a few feet away from their awaiting teams. "You better be prepared."

"Don't worry about that, Day. I'm sure we will get to talk again before that," is the last thing Jean says before leaving.

Kevin watches him until he feels an arm being wrapped around his waist. He turns to look at Eric, with a characteristic scowl.

"It was a good game, if that's any comfort to you," the goaltender says and chuckles as he presses a kiss to Kevin's temple.

Kevin rolls his eyes but despite tonight's loss, he somehow feels lighter in his chest.

[whosnickydude]

A soft dusk

okay so a while ago a posted this Kandreil drabble on ao3 but never really kept writing a 2nd part? but now that’s summer i have more time on my hands and i started writing again, so i guess i’m posting the 1st part here as well?? idk enjoy

CW: panic attack, Kevin has some really sad and harmful thoughts. please take care of yourselves lovies!

Kevin was spiraling. He felt as if his chest was about to explode from the pressure of not getting air through, and he couldn’t get a hold of his feelings.

Six months had passed since Riko’s death. Since the press lurking around every corner, demanding answers, fighting for a statement. None of them were sensible about it. Kevin practically couldn’t go anywhere alone the first month, or he would probably end up being stalked. One time it actually got close to physical assault.

All the while, he was mourning Riko. And he was the only one, it seemed. He felt immensely guilty, for an overbearing amount of reasons. He felt guilty for letting his brother become the sadistic monster he turned into. He felt guilty for not being able to change him. He felt guilty for leaving him. But most of all, he felt guilty for mourning him. It wasn’t fair, not with all that he did to Kevin. The sleepless nights, the feeling of always being a prey, always the second, always with a leash around his neck. He broke his hand because he was having a fucking tantrum, for God’s sake. It was not fair that Kevin still had to feel like shit because of him dying.

He started drinking, after that. More than he did before. It was the only way he knew to numb the pain. The other foxes let him. None of them understood why he felt so sad about his abuser’s death, so none of them knew how to —or wanted to— comfort him. They would throw him a pitying glance and try to do so, but after some times he shoved them off, they started to leave him to himself. So they let him drink. It wasn’t as if they ignored him completely. When everyone went to Eden’s Matt, or Dan, or Allison asked him to go dancing with them. Sometimes he got so drunk that he actually did. Most of the time, though, he stayed on the table while everyone gradually went to the dance floor. They never left him completely alone. Almost every time, Neil and Andrew stayed on the other side of the table, speaking in languages he didn’t know. Probably flirting shamelessly right on his face. However, the only one who stopped him from getting alcohol down his throat was Andrew, and only when he saw that another one would end up with Kevin passing out.

Five months had passed since Thea left him by now. And through text, at that. Apparently, he was making a fool of himself in public every day and it was bad for both of their careers. She didn’t want anything to do with him nor with Edgar Allen. The hypocrite. Kevin was the only one that was always mindful of his surroundings. The only one that acted perfect, that pushed every feeling inside so as to not attract too much undesired attention from the public. But she had it as she wanted it, and Kevin put no resistance against it. They didn’t even see each other and barely even texted or spoke on the phone.

The drinking got worse. The mighty Queen of Exy had fallen, but the only ones who saw it happening were the Foxes. And people who knew nothing about Exy in the darkness of a nightclub in full swing.

Four months had passed since on a Wednesday at 6 A.M., in the middle of his morning run, Neil had found Kevin, alone, near to unconsciousness in the middle of the road to Fox Tower. He had his body on the street and his head on the sidewalk. His face was pressed to the pavement as he sobbed, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his right hand.

Four months had passed since the last time he drank alcohol: he was four months sober now.

It had taken fights, screams, and comforting talks with Abby, but Kevin finally accepted to go to A.A. Neither Wymack nor Andrew would let him alone enough time for him to get near any type of alcoholic beverage. It took a while, but he got to the point that he spent a whole day not thinking about it.

Right now, he would kill for a drink. His mind seemed to have caught up on everything that had happened in the past few months. It was the beginning of term, so everyone wasn’t as free anymore to look out for him. Andrew and Neil had gone out a while ago, probably to the roof, since it was almost dawn. Kevin was left alone for more time than he could manage. The prospect of having to deal with still mourning the death of his worst nightmare, his own mental health, his addiction, and the school year, was simply too much. It was looming over him. He felt as if he was dying.

Maybe it was because he found himself with so few distractions that he started overthinking. Maybe he just opened the wrong Pandora’s box from the rotten depths of his mind. Either way, he was panicking. The rush of adrenaline and utter fear he felt —he remembered— from his time in the Nest was a live wire around his throat. How could he let all those things happen to him? Riko’s abuse, Tetsuji’s beating, the terror, the exposure. Being so vulnerable and ignored while also being right in the spotlight. “Always a commodity, never a human being...”

And then, what? He went running to his father, who didn’t even know he was his father. And he didn’t say anything about it until he was forced to do so. He was a coward. He was a coward, a fucking coward.

He couldn’t breathe. His head felt heavy, his shoulders felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. Living felt heavy. Maybe he could just lay down where he was sitting on the couch and let himself go. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. His vision started blurring and everything around him was out of focus. Suddenly, there was a warm pressure on the back of his neck, and then another on his right cheek. The world started solidifying back, spinning around him, and he was gasping for air. He was letting out ragged, desperate gasps, his neglected lungs screaming for oxygen.

A face started coming to focus in front of him, but as soon as it materialized it blurred again. Tears were running down his face and he curled his arms around him. The pressure on the back of his neck —a hand, he realized— tightened, and the one on his cheek went up to pull at his hair.

“Kevin, look at me,” he heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar. “Kevin, I need you to breathe.”

The hand behind him stretched up and tangled between his hair as well, pushing his head slightly down.

“Come down, Kevin. You’re safe.”

The voices felt oddly comforting, and his hands flew up to grasp the other two. He was still crying and gasping, but it wasn’t as desperate. Maybe he wouldn’t die today.

At some point during the episode he had shut his eyes tightly, and now he tried to blink slowly, with narrowed eyes. The first thing that he saw was red hair, scarred skin, and blue eyes. Neil was in front of him, looking worried in his own way. His brow was furrowed, and he was chewing on his lip, but his expression didn’t seem quite compassionate.

“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, Kevin,” he said. He showed the motion, exaggerating his breaths for Kevin to copy. And Kevin could only look him in the eyes and comply. Some time passed —maybe minutes, maybe hours— and the panic ebbed. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and his breath was shaky, but he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

He was still holding both hands, and he felt the one at the back of his head slip away from his grasp. He looked back and saw Andrew staring at him, sitting on the arm of the couch. Neil was sitting on the coffee table in front of it.

“I’m... I’m sorry, I just...” he started, but couldn’t finish.

Andrew didn’t look away from him. His face didn’t demonstrate any emotion, but he still wasn’t looking away. “What happened, Kevin?”

“I...” He sighed. “I started overthinking, and I really wanted a drink, and I... I guess it just went down from there.”

His voice was small and he hated it. He felt stupid, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for two fucking seconds because he started falling to pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Well, don’t be,” Neil said. “It’s only natural for these things to happen.”

Kevin wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because then Neil was standing up and going to the kitchen. Kevin looked back towards Andrew and saw him lighting up a cigarette and walking to the desk next to the window.

“Go change your clothes, Kevin,” he said, looking out towards the campus. “You’ll be itchy until you do, and you probably drenched all that in sweat anyway.”

He was probably right, Kevin thought, but still glared in his direction. Only because it was in his nature and he felt better already; Andrew wasn’t looking at him. Though he probably knew Kevin would glare at him. Giving no response to the blonde, he stood up and went to the bedroom to change into his pajamas. Andrew was right: the sweatpants felt like heaven on his skin. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to rub them. He was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. The panic attack had drained all the energy from him, and his muscles hurt everywhere.

He went back out to the living room, yawning, and found Neil sprawled on one end of the couch with his laptop on his lap and a cup of coffee on hand. Andrew had one too where he was still sitting on the desk, and there was another one on the coffee table.

“Is that for me?” Kevin asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Neil looked up at him from his laptop and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“No, Day, I felt like having two cups of coffee,” he said. They fixed their eyes on each other until Kevin decided to take the cup. Neil seemed satisfied with that and looked back to where he was browsing something. A few seconds later he clicked on something with a flourish and put his laptop on the coffee table. It was a Trojan’s game they had already seen many times.

Kevin stared at Neil, but the boy just kept watching the beginning of the game. He saw Andrew moving to stub his finished cigarette on the window sill and light up another one. The last rays of sunshine and the street lights drew shadows all over his face. He breathed out the smoke and Kevin saw it disappearing in the wind. He looked back to the game playing on the laptop and brought his knees to his chest. He sipped on his coffee, and it was sugary sweet. But he could allow himself that, at least for today.

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt. VII

Happy Birthday, Kevin. I’m so glad you exist. We all are. Here, I give to you friendship, love and care. You’re gonna get through this, I promise. ♥️

>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts are here!

Jean leaves

after their game against the Trojans, Kevin says goodbye to Jeremy Knox, and to Jean

Kevin feels heavy, he feels torn, and sad and scared, because he’s alone once again

and he’s afraid he’ll never see Jean again, that whatever they managed to have hear in Palmetto was their unofficial “break up” and that Jean will never speak to him again

Jean had cried, he’d begged, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to be abandoned again, he didn’t want to be away from Kevin again

but Jeremy Knox had somehow worked his magic, and Jean had genuinely (well, as genuine as one can be after the Nest) accepted Jeremy’s offer, and even chose to move immediately to South California with him instead of waiting for the summer

Kevin hoped it wasn’t in an attempt to put as much distance between them and more because Jean was on his way to healing, even if it was away from him

they had hugged one last time, in Abby’s guest room, and poured everything they felt for each other in their embrace

they both knew things would be different from now on

they knew it would be hard, and painful

they knew the healing would be slow, that nasty things would resurface

but in that moment, they didn’t care

“Jean… Jean listen to me,” Kevin whispered in Jean’s ear. “Hell is over. You got through it. You got out. You’ll be safe, now, okay? I know- I know we have to process things… Take your time. Rely on Jeremy. Rely on your team. The Trojans are great. And I’m not just talking about Exy. Okay, Jean? You’ll be safe now. You’ll be far away from all this mess. And if there is anything, anything, Jean, you call me. I’ll be there. I don’t care why or how; I’ll be there for you, Jean.”

they held on tighter to each other, tears silently streaming down their faces

Kevin cradled the back of Jean’s head as Jean clutched Kevin’s shirt in his fist

they had to let go, they had to, and yet…

I care for you. I love you. I do. I’ll always love you.

words left unsaid, barely exchanged in a look, barely understood in their eyes

words that had never held any meaning to them, words they’d never heard, words they’d never said

they weren’t about to start saying them now, but their presence was strong

But this is goodbye, for now.

they let go

Jean leaves

Jean is gone

none of the Foxes know what’s happened, but they do feel the consequences

and it doesn’t help that their next and ultimate game is against the Ravens, at Edgar Allen, their last chance at winning Championships, at beating the odds and their nemesis

Kevin is a huge fucking asshole all week

he can’t seem to help it

he lashes out, he fights, he drinks…

he’s obsessed, he’s panicking, he’s a monster

the high of helping Jean has worn off, the high of their win against the Trojans has worn off

fear is all that’s left

Wymack has to forcefully bring him to Betsy at 6 AM when he finds Kevin at the court, having passed the whole night practicing, even after Neil and Andrew left around 3 AM

Kevin is shaking all over in his chair

Betsy doesn’t offer hot cocoa

Kevin doesn’t want to be here, never did, never will

Betsy has to thread carefully, has to approach him from the right angle

“How is Jean settling in at USC?” she calmly asks

“We’re not talking about Jean,” Kevin spits back immediately

“Okay. What are we talking about?”

“We’re not talking.”

“That’s alright. I’ll talk for a bit, then. As your designated therapist, your health is under my care as much as it is under Abby’s and David’s. What this means is, my word weights as much as theirs when it comes to who plays, and who doesn’t. Exy has been good for you, Kevin. Exy is good for a lot of you, actually. However, what my professional advice would be, in your case, is that you are to be forbidden from playing this last game against Edgar Allen.”

Kevin gasps

Before he can unleash the thousands of obscenities on the tip of his tongue, Betsy raises a calm hand to hold him off

“I won’t do that. I should, but I won’t. Ultimately, not playing would aggravate your mental state more than facing Edgar Allen and pushing yourself past your limits. You need this. You need closure. You need proof. In my opinion, it won’t solve your problems, it won’t solve your traumas, your alcoholism, your PTSD, your anxiety, your anger issues, and I’m being brief. But this is something you want to do, and I understand its importance. So I won’t be interfering.”

Kevin scoffs, uncooperative

“But hear this, Kevin: at the rate you’re going, you are not going to win this game. You’re not. You’re going to break, you’re going to lose, and then you won’t be getting back up. This? Right now? This is your point of no return.”

Kevin gapes at her

he can’t believe the words that just came out of Betsy’s mouth

not because they are cruel, or unprofessional, or harmful

it’s because they are true

Kevin finds that her words resonate in him, like the echoes of a desperate cry for help within himself

Kevin doesn’t cry, because he can’t, he doesn’t remember how to

he does however go into full-blown panic

without a bottle in his clutch 

it’s bad

it’s really bad

he hears half the words Betsy says next

“Kevin, this is a panic attack. You know this, this is familiar. Don’t be afraid of it, you are not going to die. Not on my watch. I’m going to hold you now, okay? Do I have your permission?”

Kevin nods frantically as he chokes on air

Betsy gets up to come sit beside Kevin on the couch and takes him in her arms

she buries his head over her shoulders and crosses her arms behind his back; without rocking as to not increase the nausea, Betsy begins squeezing Kevin every three seconds, raising her shoulders everytime to encourage him to breathe

“One, two, three, in, Kevin. One, two, three, out, Kevin.”

the pressure of her arms and her deep, motherly voice bring Kevin down from his attack after a good twenty minutes

“I’m going to release you now, Kevin, okay? Can I let go of you?”

Kevin slowly nods, his eyes fixated on a point behind Betsy’s back

she doesn’t even have the time to sit back down on her own chair, though, before Kevin pulls a Neil and sprints out of her office

Wymack can’t even catch up to him

he runs, and runs, and runs

his feet should take him to his dorm, to the alcohol cabinet, or even to the court, to his gear

they don’t

he stops running right in front of Jackie Hall

rationally, Kevin knows classes start at 8:30, that Jules has been getting back in class progressively, that she was slowly getting back on her feet

irrationally, Kevin fears she won’t be there, or that she will, but in pieces on the floor, or that she won’t want to see him, or that she’ll know, or that-

his feet take him inside nonetheless

in a haze, he once again faces door 418

he doesn’t realize he’s knocked until his fist meets the air when the door opens

he woke up Jules, and she looks like it; eyes puffed from sleep, bonnet half off, naked feet

“Kev? Wha- You’re here. Why are you here? Are you- Are you okay? Why are you dressed like that?”

Kevin looks down, at his Exy clothes

his Exy clothes

Shit.

“Okay, no, it’s too early for this. Come on, don’t just stand there. Go shower. I’ll be there after, yeah?” she says as she ushers him inside her dorm room

but Kevin can’t seem to move, now that he has stopped

so Jules grabs two of his fingers and pulls him inside

which then pulls Kevin out of his apathy

“I don’t- I can’t- I-,” he tries

“Do I need to call someone? Are you in danger?” Jules panics a little bit

“N-No… I- Clothes… It’s all I have…” Kevin explains with difficulty

“Oh.”

Jules locks the door behind them and goes to her bed, only to pull out a pile of clothes from under the corner pillow

she brings them to Kevin

“You left this last time you were here… I figured if you didn’t ask for it back, it’d be more useful here in case… Well… You know… That,” she explains, a bit embarrassed

Kevin furrows his eyebrows, he looks like he is on the verge of crying

he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, but if he could…

he gently takes the clothes and locks himself in the joint bathroom, without a word

Jules is left standing there, still shocked, nervous, overwhelmed…

she quickly undresses herself while Kevin is out of the room, puts on some more decent clothes that what he is used to see her in, washes her face in the tiny sink and fixes her hair for the day

she gets cold as she waits for Kevin, and pulls on a red polo sweater, the only one she has left that doesn’t need to be washed

she waits for Kevin on her bed

Kevin comes out of the bathroom at last, black sweatpants, black shirt, white socks on

he’s clutching his Exy uniform in his arms, close to his chest, close to his heart

Jules gets up to go fetch them two granola bars, the only two she has left of her oh so spare groceries

Kevin looks at it as if she’d handed him a live kitten

he gets that pained look again

“Are you sure that’s okay…?” he asks her

“Yeah, I’m sure. You need it, Kevin. Eat,” she answers him

she sits down on the floor and invites him to do the same

they eat in silence, Jules watching his every moves

Kevin barely nibbles at his bar

“Kevin… Tell me,” Jules finally speaks

and he can’t hold it in anymore

he tells her everything

everything.

from Betsy’s emergency session this morning all the way back to his mom’s death

and everything in between

Riko. The Nest. Exy. His hand. The Foxes. Thea. The alcohol. Andrew. Neil. The mafia. Jean, again, honestly this time.

everything.

it lasts for hours

or so they think

turns out the sun has barely been up for an hour when Kevin finally closes his mouth, emptied of all his bad history 

Jules has bitten the skin off of her lips, but has stayed put where she sat next to him nonetheless, through it all

after a while, breaking the heavy silence, Jules asked the only question one could ask after such a story

“What do you need, Kev?”

what did he need, indeed…

“I- Help me…” was the only answer he could think of

it chilled Juliet to her core

she couldn’t

she couldn’t do that

she was a mess

she didn’t have the strength

she was falling apart at the seams

“Kevin, I- Look at me… Look at my life… I am the last person you want help from… I can’t hold you up like that… I can’t be your anchor…”

she was on the verge of crying, too

but she could cry for real

it took her everything not to

Kevin blamed himself relentlessly

“No, no, no, no… I’m not- I just want… Someone,” Kevin tried to explain

Kevin took a deep breath, getting ready to confess

“I can’t do therapy. I can’t do it. Not alone. I just can’t. I hate is so fucking much. I can’t do it alone.”

Jules understood

her eyes widened in surprise

“You want to do… Joined therapy? With me?”

“Yes.”

“Why.”

“I can’t talk to her… I can’t talk to Betsy. I don’t know how to. I don’t even want to. But you… I can talk to you. I want to talk to you. But I can’t do that to you. We need an outlet. Hence, you, Betsy, and me… The dream team,” Kevin chuckled sadly

it made no sense

it was unconventional, unheard of

it was playing with fire, playing with their traumas

“Okay,” she said

“Okay?” he asked in disbelief

“Okay.”

---

and so they walked back to Betsy’s office, together

Betsy is quite surprised, to say the least

not that Kevin came back

but that he came back willingly, with a plan and desire to get better, and accompanied

before agreeing to Kevin’s deal, however, she has conditions of her own

“One: these sessions are to be once a week, and more if I deem it necessary, no arguing. Two: No more alcohol. You go sober or nothing of this will work. Three: As soon as this Exy season is over, you are to be put on antidepressants. Again, meds mean sobriety.”

Kevin nods, somber but willing to try

“Also: we will all sign a contract to prevent any more harm and to clarify the conditions under which these sessions are to take place. It will be a bit different, as you are not family, or a couple, but we can make this work.”

Juliet and Kevin consent

“One last thing: I will need a full session alone with you, Juliet. I have to evaluate you, evaluate if you are not a threat to Kevin’s well-being, and if Kevin is not a threat to yours. We also need to get to know each other, I’m sure you’d like to know who you’ll be dealing with, yeah? I promise I’m not usually so serious. Would that be okay with you, Juliet?” 

Juliet nods on her own, before she is hit with a heavy realization

“Ma’am- Doctor- I- I don’t have the money. I can’t. I should’ve thought about it sooner. I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” Jules apologizes

“Oh, that won’t be a problem, dear. I’m funded by the Palmetto Foxes. And believe me or not, they don’t use my services as much as they should. Right, Kevin? Besides, Kevin needs this. I need Kevin to do this. And I have a strong feeling you need this too. I assure you, money will not be a problem,” Betsy responds

“But… I’m not a- a Fox…”

“Oh, trust me, dear. You’re a Fox alright. Just not on a court.”

[owlface28]

AFTG Reverse Big Bang

I have been lucky enough to participate in the amazing, stress-inducing, extremely fun @aftgreverse. I also have been lucky enough to work with the amazing @solelystarling as the writer for his art. This is a little snippet of the fic that I will be posting on AO3 on April 10th. I will post the link here when the time comes. I’m so excited for y’all to read my first real fic to see the light of day.

TWs for the fic as a whole: gang violence, self-harm past, and present, suicide attempts past and present, torture, depression, past mental health hospitals, past abuse, and alcoholism

also this is for the most part un betaed so the grammar is probably awful

⋯

The inside of the warehouse was freezing. Jeremy couldn’t tell if it was from the weather or the death magic.  He shivered. There was no way that he was going to be able to fix whatever the fuck happened.

There was a grating sound as Andrew heaved open a door that led to a mostly empty room. Jeremy looked around. The walls were covered in corrugated metal,  rusted catwalks crisscrossing the air above their heads and there was no light except for one industrial light that was flickering above a pentagram. In the middle of the pentagram, there were cut ropes and dried blood.

Jeremy ran his hand through his dense curls. Helping the Foxes was going to get him killed. He was already well acquainted with the cruelties of the Moriyamas but this was extremely risky.

  The Moriyamas had killed someone in a ritual. He didn’t recognize the ritual but he knew it was bad. There were markings for death, the Veil, and the soul. He wanted to get out of here. There was no way that he was going to come out of this situation for the better. 

“So, what can you do about this?” Neil asked. He looked expectant but his eyes were still icy and he was somewhat braced against Andrew who was standing beside him. 

“I think I can get rid of the aura leftover and figure out what happened.” Jeremy sighed. “I don’t know if I can reverse whatever happened.  Did Renee or Allison say anything about what they felt or if they have any clue what happened?”

“They didn’t feel anything but we brought Nicky in to see if he could identify who the signatures belonged to. He knows one of the death magicians was Tetsuji and the other Riko. All he could figure out about the life magician was that it’s a male and to quote Nicky ‘Welcome to join me and Eric anytime he wants'.” Neil shook his head. Jeremy blushed slightly. Nicky had said something similar when they first met, and he might have taken him up on the offer but Neil and Andrew didn’t need to know that. 

“Okay. That should help. If I know who wields the magic, I can get a hold on the magic and that means I can break the aura leftover easier.” Jeremy said. “Do either of you know someone who is good at healing? The spells seem very strong and I know you both know how explosive breaking spells can be.”

“Yeah. We can bring you to Abby and Bee after or we can call them here,” Neil looked slightly concerned. “You know you don’t have to do this right?” Jeremy gave the show-stopping grin that he was known for and hid behind it. 

“Yeah, I do. You remember all of the disappearances in LA a few years ago?”

“Of course we do. We investigated half of them.” Neil’s concern turned to confusion and Andrew just shifted his weight from one foot to another. 

“So, you, of course, know that the main suspect was the Moriyamas but the LAPD couldn’t convict anyone due to lack of evidence.” 

“Yeah. Jeremy where are you going with this?” Neil asked. Andrew seemed to know where this was going so he poked Neil in his ribs. Neil huffed out a breath.

“Well. My boyfriend and my dad were taken. They were confused for members of a gang that had been gaining too much control for the Moriyama’s liking and they took them out.” Jeremy shook his head trying to clear out the memories that threatened him. When he spoke again, he spoke in an icy voice that he hadn’t heard since he joined the Trojans. “I want the Moriyamas taken down. I don’t care how long or what I have to do, they ruined one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I’m tired of them continuing to haunt me.” He rubbed hands over the tattoos that covered his arms and the scars that they were trying to cover.

“Okay. If you’re certain.” Neil looked like he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind. “Andrew will set up a ward on our way out so the surrounding areas don’t get damaged if the spell breaking becomes dangerous.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy said. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

⋯

Jeremy took a spellbook out of his bag and walked over to the pentagram. It was always best to break the magic from the center where the magic was most concentrated. 

As soon as Jeremy began to chant the spell, magic whirled around him, creating a ball of light surrounding him. Jeremy mentally grabbed onto the death magic, knowing the life magic was elusive and wouldn’t allow itself to be caught, Jeremy gave up so he could get the Moriyamas’ magic gone. Life magic could be broken by someone else if need be. 

Jeremy’s chanting grew louder as he started to break apart the magic. The room grew hotter and hotter. Jeremy’s shoe soles started to melt onto the concrete and he had a fleeting thought that his only goal was to come out of this alive. The death magic started to fray as Jeremy’s light magic tore through it. 

There was a supernova of light as the death magic was torn into shreds by Jeremy’s light. He fell to the floor and pain exploded through his body. The last thing saw before the world went dark was the glowing soul of a breathtakingly handsome man hovering over him.

⋯

There was suddenly light. 

So much light.

Then there was a world in front of him again. It was the same world that he inhabited but Jean felt none of it. There was no feeling. Yes, it was the same cold concrete where he had been ripped from his body but he didn’t feel the chill.

Despite it being the same world there was a ball of light surrounding him. There was a man in the center of the light. He was muscular. His arms were covered in spiraling tattoos. His hair was full of spiraling curls that sprang into all directions and his eyes were blue fire in the extreme light. The man was chanting a spell and his lips seemed to curl around the words.

There were streaks of black in the light as the light somehow grew brighter and more intense. Jean saw the man’s shoe soles melt. His jacket was being ripped to shreds by the light. The stranger’s skin started to glow. Then there was a flash and the light turned black and then everything stopped. The man collapsed to the floor. Jean walked over to the man and hovered over him. 

Jean was at a loss. Normally he would be able to help this person but he couldn’t do anything. Every time he tried to shake him Jean’s spectral hand would stop without him meaning it to. 

“Putain de merde vous enculé j'espère que vous irez en enfer vous morceau de merde,” Jean yelled to nothing, or so he thought. 

“You know, that’s not very nice. You don’t even know him.” There was a new, but familiar, voice from behind him. He turned around to make sure that this wasn’t some hallucination.

He saw two familiar figures in the flesh and both looked extremely angry. Well, Neil did.

“Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard. What a pleasure.”

“Jean Moreau, I wish I could say the same but you are looking quite… see-through,” Neil said with a wince.

“I figured. If it wasn’t so much trouble could you tell me who the fuck this is and why the fuck he’s here.”

“Ah, that’s Jeremy Knox. He’s the most powerful light medium in Los Angeles and we needed his help,” Neil said.

“Do you know someone who can help him? I would but my magic disappeared along with my body and something is stopping me from touching him.”

“Yeah, Abby and Bee are almost here. He’ll need all the help he can get. If we can get his jacket off you could probably touch him. That jacket he’s wearing is almost entirely protection spells,” Neil said. Andrew walked over to Jeremy and hovered his hands over his head. Andrew’s hands glowed softly with a greenish light and Jeremy sat up. 

“Fuck,” Jeremy slurred as he struggled to stay upright. Andrew pushed him back down with no resistance. 

“Lay back down you idiot,” Andrew said. He hovered his hands over Jeremy’s head again and Jeremy fell asleep.

Neil’s phone rang and there was a moment of him talking to Abby and Bee before he hung up.

“They’re here. We need to get him out of this warehouse though. Jeremy might have broken through the death magic and gotten rid of the aura but there are still pieces of Riko and Testuji here.” Neil walked over to Andrew and they slung Jeremy’s arms over their shoulders. Jean followed them as they walked outside half-dragging half-carrying Jeremy.

[tfcrp]

THE FOXHOLE COURT: FEBRUARY 18-FEBRUARY 24

ONLINE:

“Both the Palmetto State Foxes and the UCLA Bruins entered into the last game of the first round of the Championships with their seasons on the line. In the end, the Foxes, down dealers Raphael Peruggia and Sasha Hart-Ashby due to red cards in the Foxes’ previous game, emerged victorious in the shootout, sending them on to the death matches for the second year in a row.”

“But, despite the must-win game, the real fireworks seems to happen off the court. The first came when the stars of Exy TV show ‘On The Line’ showed up to watch the game—and cheer on their former co-star, Fox striker Akira Sato. ‘Gotta make sure our boy out there gets them into the finals, you know?’ Actor Trevor Moeller said, ahead of the Foxes’ shootout victory.”

“But that victory was immediately soured by a vicious fight in the handshake line between Fox Louis Granger and Bruin Joe Carmichael, instigated by Granger. ‘It’s poor sportsmanship, plain and simple,’ Bruins Coach Ted Dunlop said. ‘It’s outrageous. Any team should be ashamed to have their players conduct themselves that way.’ Fox Coach David Wymack, however, disagreed with Dunlop: ‘That Bruins player knows what he did, though it sounds like his coach doesn’t. That’s all I’ll say.’ The ERC had its own say, stepping into deliver Granger a one game suspension.”

“While one game may be light, with the Foxes securing their spot in the death matches, there’s a chance that one game is all they have left—it is, after all, where the Foxes fell last year, after a years-long championships drought. Meanwhile, despite their shootout loss, the Bruins managed to scrape their way into the death matches, as the UC Davis Aggies and the Baylor University Bears saw themselves eliminated.” 

- COLLEGE EXY ONLINE, “SECOND SHOOTOUT WIN FOR FOXES IN DEATH MATCH CLINCHING GAME”

“After a slow start to the Championships that saw the Washington State Cougars, the Boston Terriers, the UC Davis Aggies, and the Baylor University Bears eliminated, it’s time for the Championships to kick into high gear with the first set of death matches: a series of winner-takes-all games where the remaining field will be cut in half.”

“In the evens bracket, the Palmetto State Foxes will be facing off against the surging UNLV Rebels in Sin City. The Foxes, after a four game win streak to secure their spot in the Championships, limped into the death matches with two shootout victories, while the Rebels got off to a commanding start, winning all three of their first round games, including against the Penn State Lions. Also in the evens bracket, the Lions will be facing off against the surviving UCLA Bruins, and the Breckenridge Jackals will be facing off against the DePaul Blue Demons.”

“But the biggest shock of the randomly-assigned death matches is taking place in the odds bracket: where the USC Trojans, last year’s Champions, will be facing off against the Edgar Allan Ravens, the team they beat in last year’s finals. Many expected these two teams to meet again in this year’s finals, but that won’t happen: next Friday, one of them will be eliminated. 

After years of Trojans-Ravens (and, in previous years, the Lions) domination in the odds bracket, the door is open for another team: will it be the Ohio State Buckeyes, who hope to rebound after a slow start in their game against the Arizona Sundevils? Or will it be the UT Longhorns, who will be facing off against the Binghampton Bearcats? Or maybe the Idaho Vandals, in their first Championships appearance in history, who will be taking on the Belmonte Terrapins? It all starts next Friday night.”

- COLLEGE EXY ONLINE, “FIRST ROUND OF DEATH MATCHES REVEALED”

“Well, you don’t need us to tell you what the Foxes were up to this weekend—you have Hollywood tabloids to do it for you, thanks to the Foxes’ resident washed-up star. But we’re going to do it anyway: we thought that he didn’t like the limelight, but between the Foxes’ night out in LA and his convention appearance earlier this year, we think this Hollywood reject doth protest too much. And who is that with him? Why, none other than the Foxes’ Captain. It’s not the first time these two have looked cozy away from the crowds and, you know what they say, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

“Seems like love was in the air for some of the Foxes this week—or, well, something like it. We spotted a certain redheaded Vixen with a new victim at the Foxes’ party on Saturday. Who, you might ask? We can’t blame you if you’re having trouble keeping up. But don’t worry, Valentine’s Day or not, we wouldn’t put any money on this lasting.”

“If you’re looking for some light listening, may we interest you in a podcast? (And by light, we mean…about murder, of course.) The Foxes are getting attention off of the Exy court for all the wrong reasons, as usual, and if you don’t remember this Fox standing up at a press conference and reminding us all that he killed his mother, well, this latest series of First Degree just might jog your memory. But there’s a plot twist: did he really do it? Color us intrigued, and mark us down as loyal listeners.”

- FOXWATCH, YOUR SOURCE FOR GOSSIP AT PALMETTO STATE UNIVERSITY

ON CAMPUS:

The Foxes return to Palmetto victorious—and to a campus that seems willing, now that the team is actually doing well and football season is over, to jump on the bandwagon, decorating the campus in even more orange than usual and hanging the Foxes’ posters around town.

But the Foxes don’t have time to worry about that—they might have two weeks before the death match, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to ease off of the throttle. Their focuses remain focused and intense, with an added emphasis on video review: they know they’re going up against the Rebels, who have been a surprise force in the Championships so far, and they know they’ll only have one chance to stop them in their tracks—and one chance to make sure they go further in the Championships this year than they did last year. 

[hillaryisaboss]

Right now Trump is using the microphone and power of the American Presidency (which is exactly what Putin wanted) to endorse a xenophobic, right-wing, nationalist, racist, fascist, anti-Democratic global takeover. Donald is declaring the Europeans are “losing their culture” due to immigrants. Isn’t the scapegoating of immigrants red flag #1 in high school history classes? Fascism 101? I guess those who don’t know history truly are doomed to repeat it.

Sadly, NATO just got a taste of the Trump propaganda reality-show. It goes something like this:

Trump lies about a non-existent problem (ie: the United States is getting ripped off by Europe/immigrants are “infesting” our country), accuse the other side of which you are guilty (“Germany is owned by Russia”), claim he is finally putting “America First” (white nationalist rallying cry to motivate his racist base), pulls a publicity stunt by throwing decency and decorum out the window, gets his con-man approved photo-opt to give the illusion of success, dominates the news cycle, declares victory by saying he fixed a problem that never existed in the first place, and then Fox News finishes it up by brainwashing his cult followers into thinking Trump is the greatest President of all-time and is producing results for the American people (“Promises Made. Promises Kept.”)

This is the never-ending Trump propaganda reality-show that is the American Presidency.

A Presidency that --may I remind you-- did not receive the majority of votes from the American people. Trump lost by 3 million votes. Never forget this fundamental fact. Hillary voters are the 66-million-majority. And we should start acting like it.

We should stop being afraid to say what we know is true: 2016 was stolen by Donald J. Trump, Russia, and James Comey. This is the biggest scam Trump has pulled off yet... so why on Earth would he stop now? Maybe he can now start convincing the rest of the world that immigrants are the root of all our problems, just like he began his 2016 Presidential campaign by declaring Mexicans are “rapists.” Trump is taking his charlatan act on the road. Watch out, world! You won’t know what hit you if you aren’t careful. Meanwhile, Putin is laughing from Moscow. He has unleashed a buffoon on the world.

Trump is trying to see just how far Hitler’s anti-immigrant, anti-journalist, nationalistic propaganda takes him. So far… the sky's the limit! We have already violated the human rights of immigrant children and their parents. Because according to Trump they are just “animals.” Mind you, Trump later clarified he was talking about the immigrant gang MS-13. But his original statement was that immigrants are “animals.” Never forget Trump’s original statement. Don’t fall for his manipulation. Trump is dehumanizing immigrants. Who is next?

Unfortunately, Don-the-Con pulled off becoming President of the United States by using Russia to manipulate voters in swing states (“Stein is not a wasted vote!” Russian-bots said all over social media). Over 150 million Americans were subjected to this sort of anti-Hillary Russian propaganda on Facebook, with millions more subjected to it on Twitter and YouTube. Ever wonder why there was so many videos of Hillary being against gay marriage floating around? The answer: Russian agents trying to undermine Hillary with progressive, young voters. Nevermind the fact that Obama, Biden, and Bernie all had to evolve on gay marriage, too. But lets vilify the woman for doing the exact same thing her male counterparts did! See how easy it is to fall for Russian manipulation?

This is the first time in our nation's history that an adversary has successfully interfered in our Presidential election and gotten away with it. (And yes, Russia is an adversary contrary to the topsy-turvy world the Trump Administration would have you believe -- “Alternative Facts” such as Trump having the largest inauguration crowd size of all-time). One of the reasons Trump hates when people bring up the popular vote is because he is obsessed with numbers and crowd sizes (he’s a narcissist). Ironically, Donald lost the biggest numbers game of all-time: the actual vote of the American people. By a staggering 3 million votes. Ouch!

Trump wants to give the impression that he won some great big victory against the Clintons (two people that left us a surplus in the 1990s). But his victory wouldn’t have happened without unprecedented inference by Russia and the FBI. Putin and Trump stole the election from the 66-million-majority. Trump is an illegitimate President. He didn’t win it outright. He won it by committing treason with Russia to undermine our election. The first time a Presidential candidate has worked with an adversary to influence the outcome of our election.

Hillary receiving 3 million more votes despite all of these outside forces is actually pretty remarkable if you ask me. Without the last-minute interference by the FBI, Hillary would have defeated both Donald Trump and Russia (remember: Hillary destroyed Donald in all 3 debates and everyone thought she was going to win). This assumption that she would win resulted in lots of people staying home on Election Day.

The 2016 election was a perfect-storm and combination of factors that led to Hillary’s defeat in the Electoral College but victory in the popular vote (one of which it is that it’s historically hard for one party to stay in power for more than two-terms at a time -- every vote counted, Bernie fans!)

Currently, Republicans refuse to stand up to Don-the-Con. In the not so distant past, Republicans used to put country above party. But now they have been bullied into submission by the #1 bully of all-time -- Donald J. Trump. Anyone supporting Trump’s current agenda will be on the wrong side in the history books and complicit in the downfall of American greatness. Republicans are helping Russia become the new global superpower, which was Putin’s main goal for installing Trump as our President. Putin (who hated Hillary due to her time as Secretary of State) realized Trump would do far more damage to the United States than he could ever dream of doing himself. Destroying the NATO alliance is Putin’s wet-dream. Do Republicans have no patriotism left? Are they all traitors to Russia?

Trump is the trojan horse sent by Russia to destroy the United States.

I guess in America, the GOP believes that if you dominate the TV like Trump does (even negatively), you can “win” because of our obsession with minute-by-minute entertainment. Has Trump, through his own cable news obsession, figured out more about Americans than we realize? Who in 2020 will be capable of competing with the Trump show? At least the Clintons have name-power. And it was glorious to watch Trump sip his water nervously as Hillary eviscerated him on stage. She is, after-all, a trained lawyer from Yale Law.

The real question is: will the media continue to cover Trump’s hate rallies (giving him free airtime), and yet again start saying the Democratic candidate is “just as bad as Trump,” leading to the “false equivalence” narrative that helped sink Hillary’s popular-vote winning campaign.

We must never normalize Trump. Nor become numb to his outrageous behavior that is making a mockery of the American Presidency. We can’t allow ourselves to become overwhelmed and give up. That is exactly what Trump wants and is the ultimate goal of his behavior. Abusers are great at wearing down their victims. A constant barrage of mental gymnastics and manipulation. So take time to watch a Disney movie but keep getting back in the fight. Hillary hasn’t quit and we shouldn’t, either.

[stickballl]

Sunshine After Moonlight Pt. 10

The Trojans were… loud was the best way to put it. The minute he walked into the lounge he was met with a wall of sound, enough to rival a stadium full of fans. Jeremy ran to the team as Jean stopped close to the door. The noise spiked his anxiety for reasons beyond his understanding. The Nest had never been like this. It’d always been quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop at the other end of the hall. On game nights, he could hear his teammates’ parties from his room as Riko celebrated privately with Jean, but that was always a distant shout. Now, the volume choked him and paralyzed him.

He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his right ear, basking in a blissful silence. He gasped a breath, his head spinning slightly as he forced himself to breathe evenly. A new environment would be good for him, as the Foxes’ psychiatrist had repeatedly said. It would be the same no matter what campus he went to; sports obsessed assholes who only cared about one thing. Who only saw him as a means to an end.

Despite the air conditioning, sweat fell in rivulets down his neck and back. The beanie was burning his head and his sweatshirt suffocated him. He wasn’t used to this kind of heat. The Nest was always set to 65 degrees. He reached back to pull his beanie off before he remembered the patches of scabbed skin between unruly curls.

He let his hands fall to his sides, flinching at the roar of voices. He opened his eyes to see Jeremy gesturing for him to come over. Jean set his shoulders, reminded himself of Dr. Dobson’s words, and walked toward his new team.

Jeremy stood on a couch and called for everyone’s attention, waving his arms in the air like a complete lunatic.

“I’d like to have your attention,” Jeremy yelled. Jean rolled his eyes, standing back away from the crowd. “Our brand-new teammate, Jean Moreau, has arrived today. Please give him a warm, Trojan welcome. Don’t you dare scare him off.”

Jean shuddered at how much Jeremy butchered his name. He shook it off and faced the mass of people rushing over to him. Their smiles terrified him with their brightness, their ferocious happiness encroaching on him with each step.

He recognized all of them, their names rushing through his head, but they’d never looked at him with anything other than determination that bordered on hatred.

“Welcome to the LA, Moreau. Jason Armstrong, backliner,” one of them said. Jean nodded along. Jason Armstrong, 5’11”, 200 pounds, focused, fierce on the court. Willing to do anything to keep his goal safe. Off court, he didn’t seem like much. All goofy smiles and loose limbs. “Dude, you were terrifying with the Ravens. I’m so fucking psyched to have you on our side now.”

“It’ll be interesting,” Jean replied, a tight smile on his lips. Armstrong forcibly shook his hand before disappearing into the crowd. He kept his composure for the next couple of introductions until the feeling of breath down the back of his neck and everyone enclosing in on him became too much. With a muttered apology, he excused himself, rushing toward the nearest door he could find. It was a bathroom, filled with mint colored stalls and the stale scent of automated air freshener. Jean braced himself against a sink, avoiding his reflection at all costs.

He ran his hands under cold water, splashing it over his face. The water cooled his skin, shocking him enough to suck in a breath. They came faster then, shallower, heaving his chest up and down. His knuckles whitened on the porcelain as he stared at the pearl white. It was the one thing keeping him rooted to the spot, so bright compared to the black of Evermore.

“Hey, Jean, I brought some water if you want some,” a faceless voice asked to his right. Jean nodded and snatched the water, drinking it as quickly as he could. He threw the bottle on the floor. “Good. Can you tell me three things you hear?”

“You, the Trojans, the broken fossette dripping water,” Jean said. The person next to him, a girl he thinks, hummed and seemed to take a step closer.

“Three things you see.”

“The dirty sink, my shoes, my hands.”

“How are you feeling?”

His breath had slowed. His head had stopped pounding. He could focus on more than forcing oxygen into his lungs. It was the easiest he’d ever calmed down after a panic attack.

“Better. Thank you,” he said, voice gruff and throat raw. He pushed himself away from the sink and faced his visitor.

“Laila Dermott,” she said with a sweet smile. “I’m the starting goalie and a psychology major, so I’ve seen my fair share of panic attacks.”

He noticed for the first time the lack of fear in his gut as he faced this stranger. Meeting new people had never been Jean’s strong suit, shoved to the side to let Kevin or Riko bask in the spotlight with Jean as a silent spectator. Anything out of routine shook Jean’s foundations, made his life almost unrecognizable without the strict guidelines the Ravens had imposed. Someone new was the worst disruptor.

Laila seemed alright.

“You also ran into the girls’ bathroom which I’m guessing wasn’t what you meant to do,” Laila said. Jean shook his head. He’d only had flashes of the world around him. He’d needed an out and he’d found one. “Why don’t we go out and meet some more people? I’m sure Jeremy has given them a piece of his mind for setting you off.”

Jean nodded, jaw tightly clenched. He wanted to run as far as he could away from the USC campus, run until his body finally gave out. But he’d made a promise, to himself, to Jeremy, to Ichirou, that he would go on with his life and play for as long as he was permitted.

The rest of the team barely noticed when Jean rejoined them, too enraptured in their own conversations to care about some newcomer. Except for Jeremy and Sara Alvarez, who looked to be whispering to each other with their heads bowed together. They jumped when the door opened, smiles too wide to be considered anything but suspicious. Jean dug his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from sneering.

“Jean Moreau, Sara Alvarez,” she said, stomping toward her and holding her hand out. Jean stared at it, dazed and stuck in his own head, debating the likelihood of having another break down if he had to touch one more person. Laila acted before he did, stepping forward and threading her fingers through Alvarez’s and leaning her head on her shoulder. Alvarez shot her a weird look before dismissing it and looking back at Jean. “Welcome to SoCal, Moreau. Say hello to your new best friends.” Partners, Riko’s voice shouted in his mind. He tried to hide his wince, but the looks on their faces made it obvious he hadn’t done a good job.

“We were going to go out for some coffee and lunch after this meeting, if you’d like to come,” Jeremy said. “Everything’s on us, promise.”

Jean barely held himself back from rolling his eyes. A few dollars spent on coffee was not the biggest factor in making this decision.

“No offence, but it looks like you really need some caffeine,” Alvarez said, dragging a finger under her eye. Jean settled on a glare. In the back of his mind, he appreciated her blunt comment, but he’d never admit that.

“I’ll go,” Jean relented. If joy and flowers and everything embodying happiness could be shoved into one word, it would be the perfect thing to describe the expression splitting Jeremy’s face. He’d never seen anyone so happy with just two words. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so responsive to anything.

Before Jeremy could voice his enthusiasm, Rhemann walked in and demanded everyone’s attention. The residual anxiety in Jean unlocked and he escaped to the wall, breathing fully and deeply for the first time that afternoon. Rhemann said a quick welcome to Jean before launching into the season’s plan. Jean settled into the ease of exy and relaxed.

[greekmythstoldbyanasshole]

Odysseus

So first off, we’re going to talk about Odysseus. Odysseus was like that smart, but weasely guy you know. The kind of guy who is great to have around if you need to find a way to sneak out of a bad blind date, but also the kind of guy who cheats on his wife while she’s sitting at home literally turning away handsome and rich guys left and right. 

But I digress. 

So, Odysseus was on his way back from the Trojan War on his way home to Ithaca. The place, not the college. At this point, his ego must have been huge, since he created the entire field of hacking when he designed the original Trojan Horse. 

After leaving Troy, Odysseus and his buddies were looking for a place to stop and chill out for a bit. I mean, I probably would have just grabbed a couple of Red Bulls and tried to power through until I got home, but that’s just me. They eventually found an island and thought, “This island probably isn’t full of monsters, so that’s cool.”

Island was totally full of monsters. It held the terrible Cyclopes, known for horrendous things like living in caves, eschewing government (and law) and grouwing crops from rain personally sprinkled by Zeus. Seriously? This is the description that these guys get? They’re horrible because they are special farmers who live in caves and fuck with the government? They’re only a few steps away from being a US Senator. 

Odysseus, feeling like Jesus, took 12 of his guys with him to do some ‘splorin’. He told everyone else to stay on board and remain at the ready at their oars, to which I’m sure the not-cool-enough-to-be-a-part-of-the-landing-party guys gave a very convincing nod and said, “Ya, we’re totally going to do that.”

O-dawg and crew then saw a cyclops and decided that the best course of action would be to follow the fucker while holding a wineskin full of specifically unmixed wine. None of that “Barefoot Red Blend” bullshit. 

Ok, so at the beginning of the story, I know I said that Odysseus was super smart, but the following tidbit makes him seem like a bit of a moron. He took one look at the big, ugly, Fox News Conspiracy touting Cyclopes and was like, “It’s customary for all Greeks to be, like, super inviting hosts, who give out sweet gifts to their guests. I’m sure these guys will be like that and not murder us in their caves or anything.”

Then, like a normal Air BnB guest, Odysseus waited in the bushes until the cylops started tending to his sheep, and then snuck into his house. 

When they got into the cave, everyone started bitching about how musty and cluttered it was, as if they hadn’t just broken in hoping for free shit. There were baskets full of cheese and animal pens full of lambs and little baby goats, who were hopefully weraing those little pajamas like you always see on Facebook. The cyclops had made a bed out of willow branches because Ikea hadn’t been invented yet. 

After a while, Odysseus’s homeboys started getting nervous about the whole, “breaking and entering” thing, so they suggested some light robbery. 

“Why don’t we just take some cheese and leave?” They asked, like dicks, “We can always come back later for some lambs.”

Odysseus decided to take the moral high ground. He packed up their things, left a nice tip and a detailed review, got back on his ship and sailed home. 

Just kidding. He acted like a baby. 

“They’re supposed to give us a gift because we’re their guests,” he pouted, knowing full well the difference between an intruder and a guest. He also had a name! How great. His name was Polyphemus, which definitely doesn’t sound like a sexuality. 

So Polyphemus came back to his house and had his sheep with him (like a normal person), rolled his rock-door into place and then milked his sheep. When he was done, he realized that there were 13 strange men in his cave. Not one to judge, but what kind of life does Polyphemus lead that he doesn’t notice 13 random guys in his house? Just how into milking his sheep does he get? Also, what were Odysseus and his crew doing while they were waiting? Politely coughing to let him know that people were watching? There are so many questions. 

When Polyphemus finally got around to talkking to them, he said, “Who the hell are you guys? Like, pirates? Or what?”

Odysseus, super pumped to get his weird guest-gift, said, “We’re Achaen soldiers. We were just fighting in Troy, but we got blown off course, so now we’re here by Fate. We’re in your cave because Zeus says that hosts should give their guests gifts...so...you know...”

“Dumbass,” Polyphemus retorted, “We’re Cyclopes, bruh. We don’t care about Zeus’s laws. We helped him defeat the Titans, so now he waters our plants. He’s essentially our sprinkler system. But,” he continued, “I do care about something. Where did you land your ship?”

As soon as Polyphemus said this, all of Odysseus’s men were probably like, “Fuck. We’re probably not getting that god-damned gift basket.”

Odysseus, though, being the king of thinky-thinky said, “We don’t have a ship. Poseidon decided to smash it against some rocks. We are the only survivors.”

Suddenly, Polyphemus remembered that he hated the number 13, so he grabbed the 2 nearest guys to him, smashed their heads against the wall, and then fucking helped himself to a nice meal. 

Cyclops Cave Air Bnb:

           We got some free cheese and the goat yoga was fantastic, but the host fucking ate my cousin. 2/5 stars

After that, the cyclops laid down on his sad excuse for a bed and went to sleep. 

After apparently just hanging out while his buddies got devoured, Odysseus pulled his sword out of his ass and charged headlong at Polyphemus. However, he paused halfway down the cave as soon as he remembered that there was a big-ass rock blocking the doorway. Remembering that he was better at verbal jousting than physical activity, Odysseus put down his sword to think up a plan. 

After waking up, the giant strolled over to his kitchen, cracked 2 eggs and made himself an omelette. Only, instead of eggs, it was men. Because this guy is just terrible. 

After this, Polyphemus led his sheep out to pasture, and rolled the stone back into place, because everyone in this story is a dick. 

At this point, Odysseus’s men start to cry, which is the first reasonable reaction anyone has had up until this point. Meanwhile, Odysseus decided to try something useful for a change. Among his weird collection of things, Polyphemus had a “hug olive wood log” which was “definitely not a dildo.” Odysseus told his men to sharpen the log and then harden it in the fire. 

When Polyphemus got back, he milked his sheep and then ate some Panda Express while watching Ellen. Nah, he ate more guys. 

After the cyclops was done eating, Odysseus gave him some of that crazy, unmixed wine. Which was apparently a big deal because, apparently back then, everyone would lose a drinking competition to a college girl named Amanda who passes out after 1 1/2 Bacardi Breezers. Anyways, Polyphemus downed it. 

“You know,” the cyclops slurred, “If you tell me your name, I’ll give you a gift.”

At this, Odysseus got a guest-gift hard-on. It didn’t matter that literally half of his men died, he was going to get some decorative bath soap. Odysseus just smiled like a sleazeball while pouring more wine. Not yet having gotten the spins, Polyphemus continued drinking. This whole cycle repeated itself again, and not until the cyclops was good and wasted did Odysseus say,

“You want to know my name? My name is Nobody. That’s definitely what everyone calls me. Nobody. I would tell you to ask my buddy over there to vouch for me, but you fucking ate him.”

Accepting this to be as normal of a name as Polyphemus, Polyphemus said, “Well, Nobody, here’s your gift: I’ll eat you last!”

At this, the cyclops laughed so hard that he threw up the wine and human bits, and then passed out in all of that. 

Gross. 

Without a moment to lose, Odysseus and his men pulled the log “out of hiding,” whatever that means, and stuck it in the fire until it was as red-hot as early 2000′s Ricky Martin. The men took the flaming rod and jammed it into the cyclops’ eye hole. Since he had killed all their buddies, they made sure to wiggle it all around and keep it there until his blood boiled out of the socket. 

Gross.

Meanwhile, Polyphemus was understandably freaking the fuck out. He was causing such a hubbub that all of the nearby cyclopes came over to see what all the yelling was about.

“Dammit, Polyphemus, what is wrong? Surely nobody is killing you by force or treachery?” they asked, apparently unaware of all the strapping young men in the cave.

Polyphemus screamed, “Yes! Nobody is killing me by force and treachery!” 

Apparently fed up with his sarcastic-ass answers, the other cyclopes said, “Ok, man. Whatever. If you are alone and screaming like that, you must be crazy. Try praying to Poseidon to cure your womanly hysteria.” And, without opening the door like decent friends, you know, to see if he was actually ok, the cyclopes just left. “Eh, he’ll be fine.”

Hearing all of his definitely-not-getting-Christmas-presents-this-year friends leave, Polyphemus screamed. He shoved the boulder out of the way and stood in the opening, ready to catch any shithead who tried to escape. However, Odysseus weren’t no bitch. 

Later that night, after the cyclops had put in his earplugs or something, Odysseus stole some branches from the branchopedic bed and used the branches to tie groups of 3 sheep together. He did this just enough times so that each of his buddies would have a 3 sheep luxury package, but not enough for him, because he was an arrogant motherfucker. 

After tying the three sheep together, he told his crew to each grab on to the belly of a sheep, which, I guess, were huge? Odysseus took the biggest ram for himself (phrasing) and held on. 

Instead of waiting until, like, 5 o’clock in the morning to grab some sheep, the poor suckers spent the whole night hanging upside down. When the sun finally rose, Polyphemus let his sheepies out to play. As the sheep went by their blind master, he tapped each one on the back to make sure no one was escaping. The following is how I picture that scene to have played out:

*pat pat*

“Hmm, this is weird. 3 of my sheep must have gotten tangled in my bed and got stuck together. I’ll deal with that later. Next!”

*pat pat*

“God, my sheep are dumb today. 3 more sheep are stuck together. Good thing I’m patting these sheep down for escaping prisoners, or I might think someone was up to something.”

*pat pat*

Odysseus and his big ram *wink wink* were the last to leave. As it came near the cave’s entrance, Polyphemus put on his Border Patrol cap and stopped the ram.

“My old buddy,” Polyphemus said to the ram, probably while looking in the wrong direction, “why are you in the back today? You usually lead the group. Maybe you feel bad that daddykins got blinded by that big, mean bully, Nobody? And he got me drunk! Rude. I’m sure if you could talk, you would tell me where he is hiding.”

But he couldn’t talk, because he was a ram, and that would not be logical. Like the rest of the story. 

Odysseus had a mild panic attack when Polyphemus *pat pat*ed his ram down, before it waddled over to its friends in the pasture. 

When all the sheep had gone far enough away from the cave, Odysseus and his men released themselves from the sheep. Can you imagine how badly their arms must have hurt at that point? I mean, I sometimes need to take a break when I’m straightening my hair, and that takes, like, 8 minutes. Tops.

After getting off the sheep with jello-for-arms, they grabbed a bunch of lambs (with their mouths?) and hauled ass down the mountain. When he finally reached his ship, Odysseus, being an arrogant moron, turned around and yelled, “You! The guy who was a dick and ate your guests, the ones who totally didn’t sneak into your shitty cave, I hope you enjoy the punishment Zeus has in store for you!”

Polyphemus, the guy who didn’t just hear the whole sheep plan, nor the sheep yoking, nor the lamb stealing, heard this taunt from forever away on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Pissed, he grabbed a piece of the mountain and threw it at the ship. It’s a whole new level of angry to rip off, and then throw, a piece of mountain. The piece of mountain grazed the ship, which resulted in a mini tsunami. This pushed Odysseus back into the shore. His crew frantically pushed the boat back out, where they doubled the distance they had before. Odysseus was about to call out to the cyclops again, but his crew told him to shut the hell up and be glad that they had escaped. However, Odysseus was mad and arrogant, and Twitter didn’t have the balls to block his account, even with all the racism and threats of nuclear war, so he yelled again. 

“Cyclops! If anyone asks you who blinded you, you can tell them it was Odysseus of Ithaca!”

Hearing this, Polyphemus remembered a prophesy he’d heard about the Boy Who Lived. No, not that one. About Odysseus. He prayed to Poseidon in the style of Veruca Salt, if Veruca Salt had become a dictator. 

“Don’t let Odysseus make it home! Actually, no. Let him go home, but all his friends die! And...it takes forever! And when he gets there, there’s a whole bunch of shit going on! And make his lawyer get arrested for paying off a prostitute! And kill his hamster!”

After praying/bitching, Polyphemus threw another mountain chunk at Odysseus. This throw also resulted in a mini tsunami that pushed his boat to shore. This time, however, it pushed the boat towards the rest of Odysseus’s fleet, which apparently existed. Instead of booking it, the men decided that right then was the best time for a gyro, so they ate a feast of the lambs they had stolen and drank DILUTED wine. When the sun rose the next morning, they took sail. They were happy to be alive, but also really sad about the guys who had been turned into BK’s Chicken Fries. 

But, the fun was just beginning because Poseidon was pissed. 

[jsteneil]

familiar stranger (strange family)

leave all pretense of realism at the door pls here’s a thing

“It’s only two hours,” Neil says.

If looks could kill, he probably would collapse on the floor right here and then. Aaron only stops glaring daggers at him to bury his head back in the toilet seat.

“Why is he even here,” he asks after dry-heaving for a minute. “Go away.”

Neil rolls his eyes so far back that Andrew can see the whites. He pushes at Neil’s arm gently in direction of the door: Neil is Neil, and Andrew trusts him, but this isn’t the kind of situation he’s helpful in.

“I’m just saying,” Neil says, “you’ve played full Exy games through worse—”

“You’re starting to sound like Kevin,” Andrew tells him.

“Sometimes he’s right.”

Something hits the wall a good foot left of Neil’s head and Andrew turns back to his brother’s prostrate body.  

“Leave,” Aaron all but growls.

“I hope you throw up on yourself,” Neil snaps, but he steps outside.

Andrew waits until he can hear the suite door opening and closing, then he steps closer to his brother, reaching for the glass sitting on the sink.

“Drink,” he says, thrusting the glass at Aaron once he looks up.

“This is Matt’s.”

“I’ll wash it.”

Aaron spills a little down his shirt as he takes a long sip, closing his eyes against another bout of nausea. Andrew swipes his phone from the vanity, quickly enters the password he’s learned a long time ago, and pulls up the browser. He dislikes having to see the background picture of a certain smiling cheerleader, but his own flip phone doesn’t come with internet access. The phone buzzes; Andrew swipes away the text notification when he sees the name of the sender. Aaron even added a heart after her name; this is an unfortunate depth of sappiness Andrew hadn’t predicted.

“What are you doing?” Aaron protests when he hears the buzz. They both know Andrew has never taken his phone off silent. “Give me that.”

“Drink and shut up.”

The first site he checks is unhelpful; they advise deep breathing to fight off nausea and drinking water to prevent dehydration. He nudges Aaron’s thigh with his foot. “Small sips.”

As if to prove him right, Aaron vomits back up the long gulps of water he’s just drank.

“I’m calling Abby,” Andrew says. “You’re not going to that final.”

If possible, Aaron looks even more panicked. “No, I have to go.”

“With a bucket?”

“Powell hates athletes, he’s been waiting all year for an opportunity to fail me. He won’t accept a note from Abby.”

“Tragic,” Andrew says, composing the number.

Aaron’s hand on his wrist stops him. “Andrew.”

Andrew jerks away but locks the phone. He meets his brother’s gaze, crumpled on the floor next to the toilet, his face sweaty and ashen gray. It’s a familiar sight: it brings back up memories of long days spent outside the bathroom at Tilda’s, before Nicky got them away from the place. It seems they always go back to this: silent show of support and hard-won care.

“Andrew,” Aaron says again.

Their high school years were a blur of barely restrained hostility and ambiguous protection, but Andrew also remembers what having a twin felt like; the invisibility of looking exactly like another person, the usefulness of it all.

“No.”

The word is final. Like more and more often, Aaron doesn’t care. “You have to,” he insists.

“Have to nothing,” Andrew tells him. “This does not benefit me.”

“If I’m held back, you’ll graduate without me. I know Powell will do everything in his power to fail me even at the makeup test.”

He’s learned where to strike. Unbelievably, Andrew can feel his resolve crumbling under the what-ifs.

“I’m not a Biochem student.”

Andrew’s specialty is crime and violence. He doesn’t care about the intricacies of the human body he’s damaged time and time again, others’ or his own.

“My notes are on my desk,” Aaron insists. “You have four hours. It’ll just be a multiple-choice quiz, he told us.”

Andrew’s mind is already drafting a pro or con list. He can recognize the battle he’s lost.

“Call the cheerleader,” he tells Aaron, chucking his phone at him. “You need saltines and water, and I don’t have time to baby you.”

Aaron’s head whips up, the look on his face surprised. Andrew inwardly scoffs. He should know better by now only to try and fight battles he knows he can win.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Take a shower,” is Andrew’s sole response.

Andrew settles on the couch with Aaron’s thick pile of notes. He knows his brother’s handwriting almost as well as his own, as well as his note-taking habits. The information is always clearly presented, easy to read and grasp. Easier even to retain, for someone like Andrew.

She knocks on the door thirty minutes after he’s left Aaron in the bathroom. The water has cut off a few minutes ago, but apart from one sound of retching, Aaron has yet to make any noise or an indication that he’s leaving the room any time soon.

“I brought medicine and crackers,” she says when he opens the door.

She has the good sense not to smile at him.

“Don’t talk to me,” Andrew warns her. “He’s in the bathroom.”

She goes without another word, returns soon for plastic bags and a bottle of water, then Aaron slowly inches out of the bathroom into the bedroom, and she closes the door on them.

Andrew goes back to the stack of notes he’s learning. Aaron’s final is early in the afternoon; since Matt called them in when he left for one of his own, it leaves the entire morning for Andrew to try and learn three years’ worth of a subject he doesn’t take. Luckily, he has Aaron’s textbooks for any concept he might not know, and good memory of the course he had to take in freshman year for his gen eds.

Matt comes back sometime around ten, followed closely by Dan. Andrew checks the time. Neil should be going for his last final soon.

“How’s he?” Matt says when he sees Andrew.

Dan, always more suspicious of her players called Minyard, asks: “What are you doing?”

“Bedroom,” Andrew tells them, checking his phone.

A message from Neil, timestamped from five minutes ago: I’m going now. See you for lunch?

Aaron’s final starts at one, Andrew sends back. Neil will understand.

Don’t make him do too well.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan says, leaning over the couch to look at Aaron’s notes. “Andrew, you’re not serious.”

“Go away.”

“If you get caught—”

“It’s not your team anymore,” Andrew reminds her, because they lost against the Trojans in semis two weeks ago.

“What’s happening?”

“Andrew is going to fill in for Aaron. Andrew, I know you don’t care about legality, but you do know the consequences of you getting caught, right? You’ll both be kicked out, at the very least.”

“Funny,” Andrew says, “he didn’t seem to mind when he asked me earlier. Now go away.”

Dan swears violently, and trudges into the bedroom.

“Babe,” Matt calls, jogging behind her. “He’s really not well—”

The door closes on the rest of their conversation. Aaron’s state must have weakened Dan’s anger; by the time they come out of the bedroom, she’s calmed enough to leave the suite without talking to Andrew.

It’s not like Andrew minds.

When the clock hits half an hour before the start of the exam, Andrew’s had time to read all of Aaron’s notes twice. He feels confident, if only because it’s the only way he knows how to feel for accomplishments he’s set his mind to. He’ll walk in the room, take the test, get Aaron to pass, and come home to collapse on his bed with Neil, who’s been far too stressed lately. Neil’s not the best student, mostly because he never learned how to study, and the weight of Exy in regards of his academical results is too heavy for him to ignore.

Luckily for Andrew, he doesn’t care.

He goes into the bedroom to look for Aaron’s book bag, putting in the notes and too many pens. Aaron always prepares for the worst on exam days. He adds a bottle of water and swaps his phone for Aaron’s.

The whole time, Aaron lies in his bed and watches him without speaking.

“Clothes,” Andrew asks.

“Left side of the closet.”

They dress mostly alike, in dark colors and heavy fabrics, but Andrew leaves behind his armbands, too recognizable, and his boots. Aaron favors lighter shoes, black high tops with dirty white soles. He parts his hair the way Aaron does, lower on the side. He doesn’t have to hide his natural look anymore: without the manic grin, their expressions are similar.

“Good luck,” Aaron says finally, tucked into his blankets.

“You owe me.”

“I covered for your shit so many times—”

“No,” Andrew insists. “I have three finals tomorrow. You owe me.”

“Alright. Don’t let the other students to catch you—”

Andrew doesn’t answer. They’ve done it enough time in high school for Andrew to know how to pass for someone he’s not.

“Wait, Andrew—” Aaron’s tone of voice makes Andrew stop, one hand on the knob. Aaron takes a breath and says: “It’ll look weird if you don’t at least wait for Katelyn at the end.”

“I’m not touching her.”

“That’s okay, you can say you’re not feeling well. I’m going to be stuck here for a few days anyway. Just—don’t blow her off in front of everybody, alright?”

“I left my knives.”

Aaron’s glare is withering. “You know what I mean.”

Andrew killed for Aaron; he got into a car accident, and he accepted to join college and play Exy even when he was sure he was going to kill himself before their time was up. But this might be too much.

Andrew arrives almost at the last minute to avoid being roped in a conversation with Aaron’s classmates. The cheerleader, who left Fox Tower a little before noon to get something to eat and prepare for the exam, is watching anxiously from her seat in the middle of the room.

Their seats are assigned in alphabetical order. Andrew signs in as Aaron at the list near the door, and makes his way to her, since her last name places them next to each other. He supposes it might be a comfort for them usually; but she looks uneasy enough that Andrew hopes his presence makes her fail.

He’s barely taken out a pen when the exam starts. Aaron was right, at least: it is a multiple-choice quiz, but a long one. Despite his memory and Aaron’s notes, Andrew has to make up some answers when he finds himself unable to even understand the question.

He finishes early. He’s not the first one to leave the room, but the clock indicates an hour of time left. The cheerleader glances up when he gets up: she’s still only halfway through, which means Andrew leaves the building and her behind without a second thought about his cover. Waiting an hour is a waste of time he cannot be bothered with.

Aaron is sleeping soundly when Andrew comes back. He doesn’t stir even when Andrew changes back into his clothes, drops the bag and switches their phones again.

Andrew nudges him with his foot.

“Fuck off,” Aaron mutters in the pillow.

“I’m done.”

Aaron wakes up properly. “How did it go?”

“You’ll pass.”

“I need to have good grades for med school.”

“Should have thought of that before getting too sick to move,” Andrew says, unsympathetic.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’ll ask you for something later.”

“How could I forget.” Aaron drops back down into his pillow. “Thanks,” he says more seriously.

Andrew slams the door when he leaves the room.

Neil is waiting in their suite, buried in a bean bag with an Exy match playing on the television. His eyes flit over to Andrew as soon as he opens the door, though, an indication that he’s not actually paying any attention to the screen.

“How did it go?”

Andrew shushes him, collapsing in the bean bag next to Neil’s. Neil drags his a little closer, lying down so their legs are touching from the thigh down.

“That bad, uh?” he says.

Andrew slaps a hand on his mouth to keep him quiet. He feels exhausted, drained more than he thought he would be after an hour of exam. It’s a good thing Neil can understand the command for what is: a prayer of quiet.

Neil kisses Andrew’s palm when he’s too slow to take it off his mouth, and Andrew opens one eye to glare at him. He has that look in his eyes that promises tenderness, even though they’re both still learning that language.

Andrew closes his eyes again, drawing strength from the smooth feeling of Neil’s shirt under his fingers. Neither of them turns to the television again for the rest of the evening, but it doesn’t matter.

[wematch]

Only You

In their second year a deal is made. Andrew wants to explore his boundaries and there’s really just one person he trusts around himself.

Set in a universe where everything is the same except that Andrew never kissed Neil on the rooftop that night. Instead, they just got closer and more comfortable around each other.

Read from the start if you haven’t yet! [Part 1]

You can also read it on [AO3]

As always a huge thank you to @velvetnoodle for being an amazing beta <3<3

Part 6

Neil follows Andrew to their usual spot at the end of the bus and sits down in front of him. Kevin had tried to go over what everyone had done wrong during the game as soon as the engine started running but Wymack had told him to shut up. So now, the bus was quiet as everyone settled down to rest during the journey back.

Neil has his forehead resting against the window to watch the blurry landscape as they travel but he finds himself keep coming back to stare at Andrew instead. He keeps thinking about the game they just lost against the Trojans — they’re a fierce team and the Foxes gave it their best against them but tonight it just wasn’t enough. Maybe they’ll play again against them at the finals; if there’s a team Neil would like most to face in the finals, it’s the Trojans.

Halfway into the journey back, Andrew slowly opens his eyes to look at Neil. “Staring,” he comments.

Neil averts his eyes again and takes a deep breath. He can feel the exhaustion setting in after the game but he’s too uncomfortable to try to properly rest the way he is. A few minutes later, Andrew nudges him with his feet so Neil looks curiously at him. To anyone else, Andrew would seem to be only staring back but Neil sees the unspoken question in Andrew’s face about what’s going on in his head.

“I was thinking about the Trojans,” Neil tells him, “and that I want to meet them in the finals this year.” Andrew rolls his eyes at that and Neil can almost hear him in his head calling him a junkie. But then after a moment, Neil continues almost in a whisper, “Jean seemed well with the team.”

Andrew visibly tenses at the mention of Jean and doesn’t say anything about it. “Try to rest,” he tells him instead.

“I can’t; not like this,” Neil explains, understanding that talking about Jean brings back too many memories from last year. He didn’t manage to talk to Jean after the game but in reality, he wouldn’t even know what to say to him after everything they’ve been through. Neil’s just glad that he found a good team to stay with after the Ravens.

Neil looks at Andrew and studies him for a moment. He has a foot resting between Neil and the window, and the other lazily stretched on the floor, looking as comfortable as he can be on the bus. After a moment, Neil decides to stand and sit next to Andrew to stretch his legs on the bench he was previously sitting on.

He tries to find a comfortable position to be in but doesn’t quite manage. He feels annoyed at himself; two years ago he would’ve fallen asleep anywhere he wanted, but now after getting used to sleeping in a decent bed every day that doesn’t happen anymore. He keeps moving around to get a into better position until Andrew speaks again.

“Stop moving,” Andrew tells him with his eyes closed. “Either that or move away.”

Their legs are touching so Neil tries to stay still to let Andrew rest but after a few minutes, he can no longer manage to do it. He shifts slightly again to find a better position to relax.

“Neil,” Andrew says it like a warning and opens his eyes to stare at Neil.

Nei looks sideways at Andrew, and notices the comfortable hoodie that he has on and begins to wonder if Andrew would allow him to lean against him. “Andrew, yes or no?” Neil asks tentatively motioning with his hand towards Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew turns to stare outside through the window for so long that Neil thinks he’s not going to get an answer. “It’s a yes, as long as you stay still,” Andrew quietly replies.

For a moment Neil doesn’t move, too surprised that Andrew had just agreed to it. He blinks three times before he slowly moves to rest his head on Andrew’s shoulder to try to close his eyes for a few minutes. However, it doesn’t take long for his neck to start to ache from being bent in a weird angle.

Andrew, sensing his discomfort, sighs and shifts to put his arm that was resting on his lap around Neil, pulling him closer to his chest in the process. The hoodie feels soft against Neil’s face and there’s a faint smell of smoke on it from the cigarette Andrew had before they climbed onto the bus. The warmth from Andrew’s body reaches him making his body relax. Neil closes his eyes and grins, feeling safe where he is.

“One hundred and twenty-eight,” Andrew says as he squeezes his side in a warning. Neil tries and fails to stop the grin on his face. “Going on one hundred and twenty-nine.”

***

An hour later, Wymack parks the bus in their parking lot and rushes everyone to get out. Neil quietly exits the bus followed by Andrew, and they make a beeline for the Maserati to make the short drive back to the Fox Tower.

As soon as they park the car in the dorms and exit the vehicle, Kevin storms away into the building without waiting for them and Neil watches Aaron stop in front of Andrew with Nicky trailing behind him. He notices how Nicky is looking at his feet so Neil decides to start walking inside to give them some space to talk as a family. However, he almost curses when he finds himself walking behind Mike and Renee. He doesn’t want to be included in their conversation, so he slows down his pace to create some distance between them.

He’s about to enter the building when he hears Nicky call his name so he looks to the side and sees Nicky jogging to catch up with him.

“Hey,” Nicky says once he stops in front of Neil, “Andrew is asking for you.”

Neil nods slightly confused and wonders what they said to Andrew that made him call Neil back instead of meeting back in their dorm room. He walks back to the end of the parking lot where Andrew always parks and passes Aaron on the way. They glance at each other but neither one says a word. When Neil reaches the Maserati, Andrew is already inside with the engine on.

Andrew spares him a glance when Neil pauses near his open window. “Get in the car," he tells him.

“What about the others?” Neil asks, feeling even more confused after he steps into the car. Neil thought they were all going to Columbia like every other weekend, except Kevin, who had already told them before the game that he wanted to stay with Wymack in order to spend some time with his father. When his question is ignored he insists, “What about Aaron and Nicky?”

“Aaron wants to stay," Andrew explains, “so Nicky is going to stay too. The upperclassmen already invited him to go out.”

Neil stays quiet until they enter the highway as he tries to process this. It was going to be just the two of them going to Columbia this weekend. He didn't mind the idea; between practices, and classes, and sharing the dorm with Kevin they could never spend a lot of time together. The few moments they had alone were mostly on the rooftop.

“Are we going to Eden’s?” Neil asks once they reach their highway exit.

“No, let’s just stay in the house tonight,” Andrew answers him. Neil hums in acknowledgment and glances at Andrew; he feels exhausted and the idea of just going back to the house and not to the packed club sounds pretty good.

Once they're at the house, Neil is about to go to the bathroom after Andrew to get ready for the night when he remembers that he never went upstairs to get his travel bag. “Andrew?”

Andrew sees him hesitating near the bathroom door and comes to stop near his side and glance into the bathroom. When he doesn't see anything wrong he simply stares at Neil, waiting for him to continue.

“Is just that I didn’t go upstairs to get my bag and— ”

“There are some spare toothbrushes in the cabinet,” Andrew tells him and starts to walk towards his bedroom.

Neil nods; he can always go to the mall tomorrow and get a fresh pair of clothes for the weekend. Nicky would be happy to see him in new clothes as he keeps complaining about his old ones, but Neil grimaces at the waste of money that would be. He has a few new clothes already that Allison made him buy; there’s no point in buying more. It’s not like he’s just going to throw away all his old ones; those are still good to go to the gym.

When he steps outside the bathroom, Andrew points to his left at the top of the couch where a small pile of clothes is sitting and doesn’t bother explaining it.

Neil grabs the clothes and glances at Andrew. “Thanks,” he tells him, Andrew doesn’t acknowledge it other than glancing in his direction and returning to look at the TV screen, so Neil returns to the bathroom to put on the clothes. Both the sweatpants and the sweater are black. The sweater feels comfortable and loose on him since Andrew has broader shoulders and the clothes look very similar to the ones Andrew has dressed just now. Once Neil’s done changing he sits on the couch right next to Andrew.

They begin to watch an old movie but Neil is not really focusing on it. He feels exhausted from the day so not even halfway through the movie he makes himself more comfortable on the couch to try to rest by sliding down on the cushions.

Andrew turns his head to the side to study Neil. After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on Neil’s neck, guiding Neil’s head to his lap. Neil gets the idea and follows along, stretching his legs on the couch. Then he feels Andrew’s hand resting on his hair, and one of his fingers starts to make slow patterns on Neil’s scalp, making his eyes feel heavy.

Neil closes his eyes feeling content where he is. He starts to wonder what it would like to sleep next to Andrew. He's expecting Andrew to get up to go to his bedroom at any moment but when it doesn't happen Neil eventually turns his head to look up and finds Andrew with his eyes barely open.

“Are you going to sleep here?” Neil asks quietly. They’ve slept near each other before but not this close, not when they were close enough to be touching.

“No,” Andrew says. “It's not a good idea, you know how I can wake up.”

“I know, and it doesn't matter.”

“Don't be stupid,” Andrew tells him.

“I'm not. All I'm saying is that I don't care.” When Andrew doesn't say anything else Neil continues, “If you lash out you'll stop as soon as you understand what's happening.”

Neil gives Andrew some time to think about it and when the hand in his head starts moving again, he presses on insistently,“ Yes or no?”

Andrew lets out a frustrated breath. “Yes, but not here. I'm not going to sleep on this damn couch,” Andrew finally tells him and removes his hand. “Now, move.”

Neil sits up on the couch and watches Andrew get up and start to walk in the direction of his bedroom. Neil blinks twice, wondering if he had heard right, that Andrew had just agreed to this. “Come on,” Andrew says to Neil once he opens the door and notices that Neil hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

When Neil enters the bedroom, Andrew is already on the bed with his back to the wall. “Are you going to just keep staring?” Andrew asks him when Neil doesn’t move from the door.

“No,” Neil answers, closing the door before walking to the bed. He climbs in and leaves as much space as he can between them. ”Tell me if you need me to leave, okay?”

“Yeah, or I can just push you off the bed,” Andrew points out. Neil rolls his eyes and watches curiously as Andrew moves closer to him, holding himself up with his arm. “Yes or no?” Andrew asks him, staring at his lips.

Neil licks his own lips subconsciously. “Yes,” he answers right away; he’s been waiting the whole damn day for this. They kiss until Neil feels his mouth sore and he’s too sleepy to move at all. And eventually, they fall asleep.

[Part 7]

[wesawbears]

My gift for @softproko for @aftgexchange! This is some Kevin/Jeremy/Jean soulmate au. In my excitement, I forgot about the winter/Christmas theme, so that part is a little messy, but I hope you enjoy all the same!

Follow the read more

--

Jean remembers being told by his mother when he was very young that he was lucky, blessed even, to have two soul marks- a sun on his right wrist and a crown on his left. He learns quickly that Moreaus are anything but lucky though and when he meets Riko and hears “king”, he wants to scratch the crown off his wrist. He tries, but soul marks are not easily marred and it stays there, unblemished, even when the rest of Jean is marked and bruised and scarred.

He’s fifteen when he learns that Riko has no soul mark and the relief that rakes through his body is palpable. Kevin whispers it to him during one of their late night French lessons. He shows Kevin the mark he thought was Riko’s with trembling hands and Kevin’s eyes widen when it starts to glow, the way soul marks do when they meet their match. He runs his hand over it, biting his lip in concentration, careful the way Kevin is about everything.

That night is the first time he kisses Kevin, neither of them daring to breathe for fear of waking Riko. It’s not a very good kiss- neither of them knew how to be tender then- but Jean feels something click into place, and he feels like maybe it isn’t so bad to be broken if he and Kevin can be broken together.

It’s not the most functional setup in the world, but it’s what they know and it keeps them warm at night when they forget what it feels like to see the sun. Jean glances at his other soul mark from time to time, but there’s no sun in the Nest and since he’s never getting out, he figures there’s no use wasting time on it.

By the time he thinks to ask Kevin if he has one too, Kevin is gone.

Kevin doesn’t talk about his soul marks to anyone once he leaves for Palmetto, not wanting to give the Foxes any ammunition to use against him. They’re hostile in a different way than the Ravens and he’s still guarding his secrets.

He’s never heard Andrew say a word about soul marks, but he catches sight of Kevin’s when he’s inspecting his hand. “Two? Some might say you’re being greedy.”

Kevin wrenches his hand out of his grip. “It’s not like I have any control over it.”

He expects Andrew to push, but he just laughs and Kevin covers his marks again. Thinking of Jean still feels like salt in an open wound and looking at the moon on his wrist only serves to make his heart ache worse. He knows Andrew won’t say anything because he has no room to talk, with the way he hides the paw on his neck.

Seeing Jean at the banquet months later is enough to lodge his heart in his throat, but he doesn’t miss the way Jean jumps when their marks brush. It would give him some satisfaction, but there’s too much hurt there to find anything but a gaping hole in his chest.

He wonders sometimes if that’s why he has a second mark; he fucked up so spectacularly with Jean that the universe decided he would need a fresh start. For a while he’d wondered if it was Thea, but the mark hadn’t glowed when she touched it. He supposed it was for the best. He didn’t think anyone whose mark was the literal sun should be saddled with him.

But it didn’t stop the stupid spark of hope in his chest when he saw it.

--

Jeremy’s always loved the idea of soulmates. He walked around eagerly as a kid, showing his marks to everyone and holding his breath in hope that someone would light up one of his marks. He asked his mother once why he had two when most people had one, but she just kissed his forehead and told him it was because he was so loved.

He doesn’t feel loved when he gives his heart away to so many people, only to receive heartbreak in return. Eventually, he stops showing off his marks, trying to leave it up to fate when he finds his soulmates.

Which is why discovering that one of them is Jean Moreau comes as a complete surprise. Jean has never shown any of the Trojans his mark, though Jeremy suspects his mark is on his wrist from the way he keeps his sleeves pulled over them at all times.

He doesn’t pry, but one day Jean’s sleeve rides up when Jeremy hands him a coffee and the moon on Jeremy’s wrist glows.

He’s speechless, staring at the mark in wonder, so for once Jean takes the lead and says, “I should have known you were the sun.”

Jeremy’s answering smile proves him right. “Sun and moon? So we’re that couple?”

“Are we a couple?” Jean asks softly.

Jeremy flushes. He hadn’t meant to assume. Maybe that was why he had two marks; his first soulmate didn’t want him, oh god-

“Jeremy? Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Jeremy can only nod because he’s wanted, he’s loved. He’s so wrapped up he doesn’t think to ask Jean about the crown.

--

Of course, once Jeremy and Jean start going out, it’s hard to ignore the crown they both have on their left wrists. Jeremy knows by now that it’s Kevin, but his and Jean’s relationship is so fraught that for a few years he knows better than to bring it up.

They’re all on the Olympic team and twenty-seven when Jeremy decides it’s time.. Things aren’t perfect, but Jean’s doing better, so much better and Jeremy figures there’s no time like the present.

He doesn’t expect Jean to agree, but he relishes the nod he gets. He squeezes Jean’s hand in thanks and brings his hand up to kiss his mark.

--

They land at the airport and Kevin is waiting for them, like he agreed he would be. When Jean and Kevin lock eyes, it’s different. This Kevin looks both more timid and more assured than the Kevin he knew. It’s enough to let him believe that maybe they can start over, that maybe they don’t have to be defined by their past forever. Evermore took enough from them- Jean is not about to let it take this.

Jeremy greets him first. “Hello, Kevin! Happy Christmas.” He hands him a small box, which Kevin opens to reveal a small charm. Kevin looks puzzled, but Jeremy laughs and hands him something else. “Tickets to go to a game with us. I know what you like.”

Kevin smiles his true smile. “Thank you. I- got you this. I didn’t know what else.” It’s only a piece of airport coffee cake, but Jeremy’s face lights up.

“How did you know baking is the way to my heart?”

Jean’s chuckle prompts Kevin to look at him. “Hello Jean.”

“Kevin.”

He lets Kevin stand there unsure for another moment before laying a hand on his wrist and watching the way their marks light up feels like coming home. They hug and feeling Kevin in his arms after so long is the Christmas gift he never asked for, but always wanted. They usher Jeremy over and the way their wrists light up in tandem is more beautiful than any string of lights.

[nekojitachan]

so, I know you're not on prompts, but I suddenly really feel like reading some neil with a british accent, and I already reread your stories, and I am going around asking this from all of my fav authors, so if you're ever in the mood or have the time, could you perhaps bless us w some neil w a british accent and the team losing their shit over it???

Hmm, I wouldn’t say that I don’t take prompts, it’s just I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to do them? I’m trying to change that (and find a good prompt list to post).

*******

It was the reporter’s fault, Andrew supposed. With the fall semester winding down and the Foxes securing a spot in the spring championship playoffs despite being weighed down by the new rookies, Wymack had informed them at the start of the week that there would be a reporter coming to interview them to help build up some publicity, so everyone had better mind their manners and watch their mouths (that might have been directed at a certain sophomore with a tendency to self-destruct whenever his lips parted and sound came out).

At first Andrew had been a tiny bit bemused with the prospect of spending Thursday’s practice listening to the Foxes go on about how hard they’d worked so far that year and their chances to hold on to the division’s title against the Trojans while everyone waited with baited breath for Neil to spout off his usual bullshit (especially if it meant that Andrew didn’t have to do much more than stand around for once). Kevin was his usual fake smiles and torn between gushing about Knox and Moreau and talking up the Foxes, the rest of the upperclassmen were positive as always about the team - Dan was more poised that year and going on about the ‘legacy’ she was leaving behind as well about how Neil would be a great captain once she was gone.

Nicky was a hyper idiot, the freshmen were still unused to doing any sort of interviews and so Wymack hung around to keep their sessions brief and to the point. Aaron managed (barely) to not come across as a surly asshole, and Matt gushed equally about Dan and Neil in a sickening manner. By the time the earnest young British man from Extreme Exy got to Andrew, all he did was give the reporter a flat look while he was asked questions about his goalkeeping record so far that year, his thoughts on which teams would be in the final three and who was his favorite professional Exy team.

Neil so owed Andrew for him putting up with this ridiculousness.

Of course the Foxes gathered around as if a crowd waiting near the bottom of the gallows when the reporter finally got to Neil. Perhaps the young man knew about Neil’s reputation, perhaps he was a bit rattled after dealing with Aaron and Andrew, but his smile appeared a little wan and the hand holding the recording device trembled a little when he began with his questions - Wymack had insisted that nothing about the Ravens be brought up, but that still left a lot of leeway for Neil to drag people.

“Ah, after a bit of a rough start, the Foxes are now second in the Southeastern district. Do you foresee any difficulties heading into the playoffs?”

It felt as if most of the Foxes were holding their breath as they waited for Neil to respond, as Wymack stared intently at Neil as if he could mentally will the idiot to think before he spoke (Andrew could tell the man that Neil would just come up with more inventive insults then). Neil eyed the tall, dark-haired reporter for a moment before he shrugged. “I won’t lie and say that it won’t be a challenge, not when so many of our players are so new, but we’ve gotten this far so I’m confident that we’ll do a good job.” He smiled as he brushed aside the hair falling onto his face. “We’re Foxes, after all. We do best under adversity.”

“Oh my god,” Pris exhaled, while beside her Michalyn nodded in agreement and Sheena stared on in disbelief. As for the upperclassmen, Dan’s eyes were wide and her mouth agape, Allison was grinning as she jabbed her right elbow into her friend’s side and even Renee appeared surprised. Matt… Matt was gazing at Neil so intently that Andrew felt the strong urge to go over and smack the backliner. Hard. Hard and repeatedly.

“What’s up with the funny accent?” Aaron asked as the reporter, with a slight, puzzled smile on his face, asked Neil another question - that one about what Neil thought about the Trojans’ improved defensive line with Moreau on their team.

“I think we’re going to have a real challenge on our hands when we play them again - we won last year because of them wanting to face us with an even number of players, and now we have a bigger line-up. But we’ve learned a lot, too, so we’ll each bring something new to the court,” Neil said, his British accent growing stronger with each question.

“His mother,” Andrew answered his twin as he gritted his teeth over the Foxes’ ongoing reactions; somehow, Allison had managed to sneak a phone out on court and was filming Neil’s interview while Nicky leaned against an almost drooling Matt as if swooning and fanned himself.

There was another question about their upcoming game against Binghamton, which Neil glanced at a stern-faced Wymack for a moment before giving (for him) a mild answer about how the Foxes intended to continue with their winning streak against the team. Still speaking in that damn accent which made Andrew furious over how their moronic teammates were acting and twitchy with the need to grab a certain idiot and find a quiet spot to ask him ‘yes’ or ‘no’. To keep him from speaking with that accent - well, other than a few choice words.

“I will give you anything for a copy of this vid,” Nicky crooned to Allison, who continued to smirk as if very pleased with herself. “Anything.”

“Hell yes,” Matt agreed with a rough voice as he continued to stare fixated at Neil.

“This is stupid, he just wants all the attention,” Jack sulked, his glare strengthening when Pris, Michalyn and even Sheena shushed him.

The reporter for Extreme Exy paused a moment before he asked another question. “So, are you going to be cheering for Cambridge or Nottingham this weekend?” He waved the recorder around a little. “Ah, your mother’s side of the family is British, right?” When Neil stiffened at the question, he had the sense to pick up on it right away. “Oh, right, I wasn’t supposed-”

“Edinburgh.” Neil’s answer cut through the man’s frantic apology. “I actually favor Edinburgh’s team, though they’ll play this week’s winner.” He managed a half-smile as the reporter recovered and Kevin took to scowling in the distance in blatant disagreement. “Their defense is a work in progress, but their goalies are top notch and their offense incredible.”

“Ah, yes!” The reporter laughed a little as if in agreement. “I’m partial to Manchester myself, so let’s hope those two make it to the finals!”

Wymack stepped in to wrap things up then, which left Neil standing there with an oddly open expression on his face. Before Andrew could move, Nicky and the upperclassmen closed in on the junkie.

“Oh my god, that was amazing!” Nicky exclaimed as he draped his arms around Neil’s shoulders. “How do you do that? Can you do that like, always? That sounds so hot!” It was right then that Andrew had joined them, and he spared no force in slamming his right arm into his cousin’s abdomen. “Ow!”

“Thanks for closing another bet for me,” Allison said as she reached out to tousle Neil’s hair as if she had every right to be so affectionate. “Actually, two, since you got through today without dragging anyone through the mud for once.”

“We had every faith in you,” Renee murmured as she tugged Matt out of Andrew’s way before Andrew could ‘accidentally’ ram his elbow into the tall backliner’s left kidney.

“Well, not Jack, Sheena, Aaron, Nicky and Roy, but there’s always a sucker or two when it comes to bets,” Allison said with evident glee as she held up her phone. “Between them and this little gem, we’re going to enjoy a nice spa weekend or two.” That was directed toward Renee.

Renee dragged the dealer away before something ‘happened’ to her phone, while Nicky left before he earned another hit and Dan had the sense to remove her boyfriend as well, leaving Neil alone with Andrew. “I seem to remember a time when you didn’t want attention,” Andrew remarked as the rest of the Foxes broke apart and began to walk away, practice seemingly over now that the reporter was gone. “Those were the days.” He wouldn’t mention what type of days, though.

Neil shrugged and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t… it’s habit, I suppose. I used it all the time in Europe unless we were somewhere and spoke French or German. I used it when it was just me and my mum.” His expression was a bit guarded then, since he knew that Andrew didn’t care to hear anything in regards to Mary, to a woman who had fucked up Neil in so many ways and failed to protect her only child. The woman who had abused him even if Neil didn’t readily admit to that fact.

“It’s stupid, don’t do it again,” Andrew told him as he thought about how the Foxes had reacted to it just then.

At first Neil frowned at that, and then he smiled as he stepped forward and brushed his fingers lightly along the hem of Andrew’s oversized goalie jersey. “Don’t do it again, or don’t do it while in public, hmm?” The British accent crept back into his voice as he gazed at Andrew with that almost-smirk on his lips. “I think maybe you like it, just a little. Perhaps you need to hear it again to make up your mind when it’s just the two of us.”

Andrew felt that urge to drag Neil off somewhere private once more, the urge to both kiss him quiet and hear him call out Andrew’s name. “I hate it and you,” he settled on as he shoved his hand in his idiot’s face. “And stop staring.”

Neil laughed as he took a step back. “That’s a ‘yes’.” He hummed a little as they headed toward the locker room. “Okay, later then.”

Andrew shoved him forward, but he didn’t say ‘no’.

*******

Eh… I’m working on keeping things short. ‘Working’. I hope you like it!

Now off for more Ravens Partner….

[ohsweetflips]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter thirty (final chapter)

chapter summary: Class I Exy Spring Championships: The Palmetto State Foxes vs. The Edgar Allan Ravens

tw(s): violence, gore, character death

A/N: please see beginning/end notes on ao3 :)

read on ao3

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When the Ravens travelled to Palmetto for their game against the Foxes, Nathaniel found the orange rather obnoxious.

He wondered how the Foxes liked all the black.

Tonight was the end. It was the closing game of the Class I Exy season, the Spring National Championships. Tonight was the night that everything they worked towards would come to a close. Every bit of pain and grief and trauma they endured would come together.

Or fall apart.

Nathaniel would admit it: he was nervous. He needed the Foxes to win. He needed Riko to realize what he had done and how he wasn’t going to get away with any of it.

He needed to get out of the Nest with Andrew at his side in one piece.

It was two hours before first serve and Nathaniel should have been in the locker room or the lounge or anywhere that wasn’t his dorm. Ravens were supposed to travel as a team, he should have been up with them practicing drills or sitting and waiting for something because Tetsuji didn’t do anything anymore. Their coach checked out, and Nathaniel knew it was because Tetsuji knew that he truly, royally fucked up. His end was just as inevitable as Riko’s.

But he couldn’t get himself to move from sitting. Sitting and staring. He stared at the walls and they stared back and Nathaniel wondered what a life without these four walls would be like. Nothing had been set in stone, but it was accepted as common knowledge that there would be no Edgar Allan Exy team for the incoming fall semester. Nathaniel didn’t know where he was going. He knew who he wanted to be with, but he hadn’t considered where the tragic Ravens would be put afterwards. He didn’t think he could be just a regular student at Edgar Allan. He didn’t know how.

He had grown up in an environment where he was conditioned to work in groups. You won with someone at your side, failed with someone at your side, and breathed sharing two lungs. The thought of adapting to the campus that Nathaniel had rarely actually been to caused his throat to close in the sudden panic of that things were finally going to change, and things were going to change now.

For the first time, Nathaniel found himself fearing a life outside of the Ravens. A life inside was doomed to abuse and manipulation. You were never your own person and to try to be was suicidal. Every athlete that had left the Ravens had carried some sort of baggage with them, whether it be the inability to work with others who you have not grown with or detrimental coping hazards that might kill you years sooner than anything else should. Nathaniel thought of Kevin, the only person to change and grow outside of the Ravens, and Nathaniel didn’t think he would have a support network like David Wymack and the Palmetto State Foxes.

But a life outside the Ravens? Nathaniel didn’t even know what to expect. He told Jean they would survive, he told Andrew he wanted a life, but what was a life when he never had the opportunity to have one? He never had so many choices and right now, staring at his wall, two hours before first serve, there seemed to be too many choices.

Everything was happening. Everything was happening now and fast and things were going to be different and Nathaniel didn’t know what different could entail.

There was a knock on the door. “Nathaniel.”

The voice registered in Nathaniel’s mind and, instantly, his chest began to loosen. “Come in.”

Andrew Minyard walked in and Nathaniel turned to him. He breathed easier at the sight of Andrew, and perhaps too many choices could be limited to what Andrew would do.

“Staring,” Andrew noted.

“I know,” Nathaniel said. “This is it.”

“I know,” Andrew said. He then lifted his phone, which Nathaniel hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Nathaniel saw that he was currently in the middle of a call. “Kevin wants to know why you’re not answering him.”

As Andrew moved to sit by Nathaniel, Nathaniel reached over to check his phone and saw that, yes, he had multiple missed texts and two missed calls from Kevin.

Nathaniel took the phone from Andrew and put it on speaker. “You have a phone so that you can use it,” Kevin said.

“Apologies for the fact that I have a life outside of answering your calls,” Nathaniel quipped. “Where are you guys?”

“We just got in your guest locker room,” Kevin said. “Wymack wanted us here earlier to prepare. We have a long night ahead of us.” Nathaniel nodded even though Kevin wasn’t able to see him. “Are you ready?”

“We have to be,” Nathaniel said. “We all do. We have no other choice.”

“Do you remember our deal, Kevin?” Andrew asked.

“Of course,” Kevin said. “You better be prepared to put up a fight, Minyard. We’re not losing this one. Not now, not again.”

“We all have to be ready to fight,” Nathaniel said. “It’s not just about winning anymore. It’s about everything. It’s about what Riko has done to all of us. He can’t leave this earth knowing that he got the final word after all. This can’t be all for nothing. We have to fight until we have nothing left to give because Riko took everything from us. He can’t die taking one final thing away from us. Everything we put out on the court today, it’s all for the game, all for the people who Riko thought he could take and bend and break and destroy. He can’t take anything else from us. He can’t have this. Not anymore. Not ever.”

Nathaniel expected a quip from Andrew about his obsession with exy, but he nodded in agreement.

“Riko’s not prepared for what we’re about to do to him,” Kevin said.

“Riko’s going to regret everything he has done over the past year,” Nathaniel said. “But his biggest regret is going to be stepping out onto the court tonight.”

“We all know what we have to do,” Andrew said. “What’s left is just meeting on the court.”

“We’re ready,” Kevin said. “See you there.”

They hung up.

Nathaniel was ready to breathe these four walls down and escape.

“I guess it’s time we head upstairs,” Nathaniel said.

“I guess it is,” Andrew agreed.

--

By the time it was ten minutes before first serve, the news had already spread through the Ravens. Kevin Day had covered up the two on his cheek with a chess piece: the queen.

Nathaniel had never seen the Ravens angrier. They had suffered through Kevin leaving them for the Foxes, through Jean becoming a Trojan, through the Foxes getting to Championships. But this, this, was the final straw. This was Kevin Day cutting his ties with Edgar Allan and finally removing himself from their narrative. Finally making it clear that he was no longer a Raven, and he was ready to take down the King and take what was always rightfully his.

At seeing the Ravens’ rage, Nathaniel couldn’t hold back his grin. In fact, he refused to. Let the Ravens see how he was overjoyed with their demise; let them know that he was a part of it. They had no power anymore.

They were waiting in inner court, a huddled mess of black and red. Tetsuji had just left to deliver his starting line up, and he had left his team with no words of encouragement. It didn’t matter to Tetsuji if they won or loss; he knew that he was finished.

Nathaniel, Andrew, and Riko would all be out together during the first and fourth quarter. Then, for second and third, Nathaniel and Riko would be switched off. Andrew would remain on for second, and then be taken off for third to recuperate. Having the three best players of the Ravens be off court for at least one quarter could give the Foxes time to fix any errors they could make, but only if they played their game right. Ravens subs didn’t play significantly worse, and would put up just as vicious of a fight as Riko would.

Kevin and Andrew’s deal only lasted for first half, when Andrew was on for both quarters. He hoped that Kevin and Seth Gordon would score the six points they needed and would use the quarter without Andrew to get it higher.

Nathaniel didn’t know if they would be that lucky. But he still found some small part in him with hope.

Riko then stepped to the middle of the huddle. His eyes stopped on each of his teammates. His look was brimming with hatred, as if he blamed the players in front of him instead of himself for what has happened, for what was about to happen.

His cold eyes stopped at Nathaniel. “Don’t fuck this up,” he said. His words were to the team, but Nathaniel knew that the core of his message was to him. “The Foxes are somewhere that they shouldn’t be, somewhere they were never supposed to be. They are going to try to take this from us, thinking that they have the skills to do so. You all better prove to them that they’re wrong.” He scanned his eyes again. “Make them know that coming here will be their biggest embarrassment yet. They think that they’re suited to play here because they have a traitor on their line. They’re going to leave here knowing that Kevin is just as worthless as them, and that showing up was suicidal.”

“Maybe it actually will be,” someone said from inside the huddle and Nathaniel had to clench his fists to stop from swinging.

“If we lose this,” Riko continued. “You’re just as worthless as them. If they win, none of you deserved to be on this court in the first place. Don’t let that happen. Don’t let them have what was always rightfully ours.”

Nathaniel would laugh if he hadn’t reached his limit for hatred.

The Ravens were called out first. The cheers from their fans were deafening at Riko being announced, and they only got louder from their. The sea of black and red was just as ready to see the Foxes fall as Riko was. They were just as shocked that the previously last-placed Palmetto State Foxes were currently on their court for Championships. They wanted to see the Foxes crumble and break just as much as Riko expected them too.

Nathaniel hoped that the pressure wouldn’t get to the Foxes.

The stadium then filled with cheers of excitement and roars of displeasure as the Foxes were announced. Captain Dan Wilds took every cheer and jeer with pride because she, unlike the other captain on the court, she knew that her and her Foxes deserved to be here. The cries only got louder with Kevin because he was returning to his roots, only this time he was ready to tear them up. The rest of the Foxes’ starting lineup followed out, and Nathaniel actually felt excitement boiling in his gut at the sight of his opponents. Matt Boyd and Aaron Minyard were the starting backliners, and Nicky Hemmick would most likely be switching on for one of them in the second quarter. Nathaniel was glad to see that Aaron was back on court, but it also furthered his desire for Riko’s destruction because he destroyed the Minyards. When Renee Walker took her spot in goal, Nathaniel hoped that she could feel his gratitude for what she had done for them across the court.

The Foxes had first serve and Dan Wilds was currently in possession. There were ten seconds on the clock. Nathaniel’s assigned striker wasn’t Kevin Day, but Seth Gordon. Perhaps Tetsuji didn’t trust Nathaniel to stop Kevin, but he didn’t realize that Nathaniel wasn’t the one giving up his game. That came down to Andrew and Kevin, and the phrase ‘giving up his game’ was used very loosely when applied to Andrew. Andrew was still putting up as much of a fight, but Kevin had to put up just as much of a fight for Andrew to succeed a point.

Nathaniel still thought that Seth was a worthy striker for him to guard. Despite everything he had heard from Kevin about Seth being stubborn at best, offensive at worst, Nathaniel could recognize a good striker when he saw one.

Nathaniel looked back at Andrew in goal and nodded. He gave one in return.

The starting buzzer rang out, Dan served to Kevin, and the game began.

Nathaniel realized that these Foxes were not the Foxes they saw in October. In October, everyone, Fox, Raven, spectator, knew that the Foxes would lose miserably. The season had only just started, they only had eight players on their lineup, and even having Kevin as an assistant coach, they weren’t meeting his high standards and fought him and each other as much as they fought their opponents. They played the Ravens in October because they had to; they were in the same district now, they had no choice. But now, now they played the Ravens after months of training. Kevin joined their team as a player and drilled them with Raven drills and pushed them as hard as they pushed him. The Foxes knew that they deserved to be here, and they were going to fight to the death to make sure that they made everyone know that, that everyone would see them walking out with a trophy declaring them National Champions.

Nathaniel wished them the best, but he still had to play like a Raven. And the Ravens were angry. He could feel their toxicity bubbling up and out of them, seeping onto the court and ensnaring those who touched it. They were angry that the Foxes got back to them, and now they would do anything to keep them from succeeding. Nathaniel and Andrew made a deal, too, and if he wanted Andrew to keep his with Kevin, Nathaniel had to play like he was just as angry.

When Seth Gordon moved to shoot on goal, Nathaniel checked his stick last second and popped the ball out of the net. Seth cursed at him as Nathaniel scooped the ball up and served it to Jenkins.

He was going to piss off Seth, he was going to play like a Raven, but the least he could do was serve the ball to the lesser striker.

The game didn’t take long to turn violent. With the battling of anger and determination, sticks barely missed hitting bodies and helmets, and each check got rougher as the first half went on. The teams narrowly missed yellow cards, and red cards weren’t far along the horizon. Tetsuji always played their red cards, using them as an excuse to bring players with more fuel left onto the court. It wasn’t going to be long before fouls would start being called.

It pained Nathaniel to fight back against his striker mark because Seth hadn’t even been able to score one point yet. Kevin was having more luck, but that didn’t mean that he was having an easier time. Despite having the lesser backliner mark, Nathaniel could hear the things being shouted at Kevin each time he scored. He saw each check his backliner delivered and panicked that the vibrations were going deep into the bones of his hands. The Ravens knew Kevin’s weakness now, and they would do anything to use it against him.

And then Andrew. Nathaniel didn’t know how Andrew decided what goal was worthy and what wasn’t, but he seemed to have a method to it. He and Kevin seemed to have some sort of connection that would tell Andrew to let this one score, but not that one.

Nathaniel could tell that the Foxes were giving everything that had for the first half, but even the drive that had ended up not being enough. Their backliners weren’t able to stop the strikers’ scores, the strikers had difficulties getting past the backliners and Andrew, and Nathaniel couldn’t tune out the goalie wall lighting up red with each score from the Ravens.

Andrew and Kevin were holding up with their deal, but the first half still ended in seven-four, Ravens.

The Ravens filed into the locker room for the fifteen minutes they had before second half. Nathaniel could feel their pride seething off of them because there was no way the Foxes could make a comeback, and it sickened Nathaniel. Of course they would take pride in this, they would take pride in watching the Foxes die if they could see it.

But there was something else to it. Something else that added to the twist in his gut and the anxiety in his mind. Because perhaps his teammates were right, perhaps the Foxes couldn’t bounce back from a three point lead to the Ravens.

Andrew and Nathaniel lingered behind the chattering Ravens. They were still angry that these were the events unfolding for their Championships, but now there was a viciousness tied to it. They had the lead, and they were going to do anything to keep it.

“That wasn’t six points,” Nathaniel whispered.

“It wasn’t,” Andrew replied.

“Andrew-”

“I did what I told Kevin I would,” Andrew’s voice was low. “I told him that he would get six points but he had to fight for them. You might not know what that means, but he did. We’ve spoken about it before. I told him to play his game well. It was between him and I, and he knew that this could be what happened. He knew that you weren’t going to be giving up your game, and neither was I.”

“Andrew,” Nathaniel repeated, pleaded.

Andrew then studied him, ran his hazel eyes over Nathaniel’s face, which must have looked quite pitiful. “We’re both off for the next quarter,” Andrew finally said. “So is Riko. The Foxes can use this as their chance to bring the score back up.”

It was the closest Nathaniel could ever get to reassurance, and he couldn’t have appreciated it more. It was enough to show that Andrew cared, really, truly cared, and that he wanted this for the Foxes as much as Nathaniel and Kevin did. Nathaniel never doubted him, but it was still nice to hear it.

Andrew, Nathaniel, and Riko were sidelined for the third quarter, with Andrew standing in between Nathaniel and Riko. Despite Andrew being the shortest of the three, he would be the one most likely to stop any brawls if Riko (and Nathaniel) couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

But, really, Nathaniel was too caught up in the court to even pay attention to Riko. The second half was just about to begin, and the Foxes were filing into their starting positions. His pulse thumped hard and loud in his body. The Ravens would be going into the second half with an entirely new lineup, but the Foxes were used to playing full games by now.

Nathaniel just hoped that they could close the three point gap, and then some.

When it was Kevin’s turn to enter the court, he hesitated and Nathaniel could see the smirk on his face. He then touched the butt of his racket to the floor and switched it from his right hand to his left.

“Holy fucking shit,” Nathaniel said, unable to hold back as the stands, spectators for both Ravens and Foxes, lost any shred of composure they had left. Kevin Day, broken Kevin Day, left the Nest with a shattered left hand and the daunting exy-less future ahead of him. He eventually returned to the court as a right-handed player who spent more time worrying about reinjuring himself than anything else. And the Ravens called that, that, and let Kevin fester in their minds as a weak, breakable, pitiful, lost thing.

However, they seem to have forgotten that Kevin Day was stubborn before anything else, so of course he would return to his left-handed roots. They forgot that Kevin was just as determined to succeed and come out on top as they were; so, they learned the way he played right-handed. They adjusted the way they played so that they could use it against Kevin’s right handed-style.

And now, Kevin Day was ready to destroy every plan that they had for the rest of the night.

Suddenly, closing the point gap seemed a closer possibility than not.

The second half began, and Nathaniel’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched the game unfold before him. The Ravens were ready to put up a fight, but the Foxes were ready to fight back. The Foxes’ current backliners, Matt and Nicky, were now working on pushing the Raven strikers farther up the court and away from Renee in goal. The Ravens had the tendency to gang up on the goalie; it’s why they could score so many points in such a short time. The Foxes now worked to break that offensive line.

Kevin scored in the first minute and thirty seconds of the game. Then again six minutes later.

Nathaniel smirked. “Didn’t expect this, huh, Riko?” he said over Andrew’s head and Riko shot daggers at him.

Andrew also side eyed him, but Nathaniel pretended that he didn’t see that. He could practically hear Andrew in his head to stop running himself into Riko’s fist, but Nathaniel had a bit of an attitude problem.

The Ravens fought against Kevin like Nathaniel knew they would. They had thrown strategy out the window, since none of it applied to Kevin anymore, and with it came violence. Again and again their strikers tried to score on the Foxes, and again and again Renee fired their shots back and Matt and Nicky pushed them farther away. It was obvious that Kevin had spent time working with the Foxes on adapting to the Ravens’ speed, and it was paying off.

Kevin and Seth, now not having Nathaniel to step around and Andrew to shoot past, were able to get around the Ravens’ backliners and shoot on goal. They didn’t make every shot, but at Nathaniel, Andrew, and Riko’s return to court, the score was eight-seven, Ravens.

There was one quarter left. If Renee continued to shut out their goal, the Foxes just needed two more points and they would win. At the transition from third to fourth quarter and the reappearance of Riko, Coach Wymack switched out Nicky for Aaron and Nathaniel hoped that they were enough to push back Riko.

Nathaniel couldn’t throw him game. Andrew wouldn’t. Riko wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

But the Foxes weren’t giving up their fight either. Battling the Ravens’ anger was the Foxes’ fight, and even from across the court, Nathaniel could tell that their determination added an extra boost of energy.

Right before the fourth quarter started, Nathaniel turned back to Andrew in goal. Andrew instantly caught his eyes, and they gave each other a small nod.

It was the final fifteen minutes. Everything they fought for would come to its conclusion in fifteen minutes. Nathaniel wanted nothing more than to watch the Foxes win and tear down Riko’s reign before his very eyes.

Three minutes into the fourth quarter, Kevin scored again, tying the game at eight-eight, and Reacher finally broke and swung at him. He knocked Kevin’s helmet off and his fist connected with his jaw. Whistles from all referees were blown furiously and court door echoed as they slammed open, but that didn’t stop Kevin from shoving back at Reacher.

Reacher was given a red card and removed from the court while Kevin was given a yellow one. If a team got enough red cards, they would be eliminated from the game and the other team would win by default, but Nathaniel knew the strategy Tetsuji was playing. When their coach was actually desperate about something, he would welcome red cards. It gave the opportunity to switch out players as he needed, allowing players with more energy to replace the faltering ones.

When the Ravens were given another red card for checking Walker, Nathaniel knew that that was the strategy that Tetsuji was taken. It was risky and uncalled for; the Ravens were once again up ten-nine with ten minutes left of the game. To check the goalie was perhaps the most offensive move a player could do; a goalie’s gear was to protect them from balls being flung at them, not the weight of a person.

When Renee was checked into the wall, the goal lighting up red, Nathaniel panicked that that was it. The Foxes didn’t have another goalie, and if Walker was done, so was the game. But she persisted, and the Ravens were red carded, and the Foxes soon got their revenge.

It was when Seth was coming up the court. Allison had just served to him. Kevin, when he had just joined the Foxes, said that Seth could actually be an amazing player if he wasn’t so antagonistic to everyone. He had heard that Kevin and Seth got into enough fights in the first month of Kevin’s arrival to last the entire season, primarily because two great strikers were put on the same starting line, one who was trying to bounce back from the bottom and one who couldn’t work with someone long enough to make progress.

Perhaps, though, Kevin’s words finally got through to Seth. When Seth shot at the goal, Nathaniel couldn’t stop him.

Nathaniel then heard the goal ring out across the court.

The score was ten-ten, a tie between Ravens and Foxes.

There was a minute and thirty seconds left of the game.

Nathaniel’s heart pounded in his chest so hard it made him feel sick. The game continued and no one scored. Barely legal stick checks threw the ball between both teams but neither pair of strikers could get close to the goals.

They couldn’t go into overtime. The Ravens could handle overtime; they had players on the court whose fourth quarter was their first time playing all night. They had the energy to handle it. The Foxes, though, had their capacity at an hour and a half of playing time. Even Kevin had expressed that the endurance training was tough to last that long. To go an extra five or ten or thirty minutes would mean that the Foxes would decline, and decline fast.

If they finished the fourth quarter out at a tie, Nathaniel didn’t know what he would do with himself. The Ravens would outscore the Foxes in overtime. He didn’t realize how much he needed the Foxes to win until now, when it seemed like they couldn’t. Riko would surely kill him and Andrew for what the two of them had done to Riko. The Ravens would be exposed no matter what, but in the end, Riko would have won. He would have the final word, and Nathaniel didn’t know if he could handle hearing them.

The ball was in the Foxes’ possession. There were twelve seconds left. Allison passed to Kevin. There were ten seconds left. Kevin narrowly missed being tripped by his backliner. There were four seconds left.

Then, time seemed to slow.

Kevin moved to shoot. Throughout the night, he had been shooting over Andrew’s left shoulder, and Andrew anticipated this. At the start of the fourth quarter, he adjusted himself to Kevin’s playing style and used what he could to block Kevin’s goals. Kevin and Andrew no longer had any deals; Andrew wasn’t holding anything back to stop Kevin.

Kevin anticipated this, however, and as he went to shoot for Andrew’s left shoulder, at the last second he twisted his hand.

And sent the ball flying past Andrew’s torso on the right as Andrew lunged for the anticipated left shot.

The goal lit up red.

There were two seconds left.

Nathaniel heard the screams burst out from around and on the court, and then he heard the final buzzer.

Nathaniel, slowly, for if he moved too fast he thought he might break, turned to stare at the scoreboard.

Eleven-ten, Foxes.

He did it. He really did it. Of course he really did it. Kevin Day, Kevin fucking Day, scored in the last two seconds of the game.

The Foxes’ screams could be heard over everyone else’s. Turning to look at his opponents, the new National Champions, he saw that all the Foxes were piled together in one large, obnoxiously orange, elated clump.

All but one Fox, who was currently standing in front of Andrew’s goal with his helmet off, a huge grin on his face, and a queen chess piece on his cheek.

Nathaniel smiled.

His happiness was short lived, however, for he felt a claw grip his shoulder and pull him around. Riko glared down at him and Nathaniel stared back. Riko had threw his helmet somewhere in a fit of rage, and Nathaniel only had his own to separate them. He wore a manic grin on his face and his eyes tore Nathaniel apart piece by piece.

“You know how it is, Nathaniel,” Riko growled, knocking off Nathaniel’s helmet. “I go down, you go down with me.” He then threw Nathaniel to the ground and he felt something pop in his shoulder as he smashed against the ground. The only thing Nathaniel could register as Riko swung his racket above his head was that this was what Kevin must have felt like all those months ago.

Before Riko could swing downwards, a large, black racket smacked into Riko’s left arm and even Nathaniel could feel the crack that ran down it. Riko let out a scream, a painful, ear shattering scream, before collapsing to the ground.

Check.

Andrew stared down at Nathaniel. Nathaniel stared back.

“You’re welcome,” Andrew said, deadpan. “Weren’t you taught manners, Nathaniel?”

“Not really,” Nathaniel breathed and Andrew pulled him up. Nathaniel winced at the pull in his shoulder, but it must have been nothing compared to the pain Riko was feeling.

Good.

The game was over and fans were dismissed, but the teams themselves weren’t allowed to leave. Ambulances and the police were called, since that seemed to be the common trend among the Foxes, and Riko was whisked away in an ambulance that Nathaniel assumed would bring him to a hospital owned by the Moriyamas.

The Ravens and the Foxes were kept separated. If they couldn’t hold back fighting each other on the court, there was no way they were going to be permitted to sit near each other after the Ravens lost their title as Champions for the first time since their creation.

Players from both teams were questioned. Mostly about what happened between Riko, Nathaniel, and Andrew. After hearing enough stories, Andrew’s swing at Riko was deemed as a defending one, since Riko was ready to bash in Nathaniel’s skull.

Tetsuji was not present during any of this.

Finally, at just past two in the morning, the Foxes were permitted to leave and the Ravens were sent into their locker room. There were guards standing outside each door, ready to burst in if they heard a fight break out. But by the time the Ravens entered, they were too tired and shocked to make any moves against each other.

The locker room was so quiet, Nathaniel could hear everyone’s heartbeats.

The Perfect Court had naturally put all their lockers by each other. One year ago, their section of lockers were occupied by five people. Now, only two remained. Things had become so different.

The silence was broken when the locker room phone rang. Almost all the Ravens were fully dressed, and Nathaniel was just finishing towel-drying his hair. Everyone stared at the blaring phone, yet no one moved to answer it. Finally, Nathaniel stepped forward and answered it.

“Nathaniel Wesninski speaking,” he said.

“Wesninski,” a heavily accented voice said. Nathaniel easily connected the dots of the Japanese accent and the call coming from inside Evermore and knew that it was one of Lord Ichirou’s people. “You must report now to the tower. A guard outside will escort you. Do not try to escape.”

“I’ll be right there,” Nathaniel said and, once permitted, hung up.

Andrew stared at him. Nathaniel stared back. “I’ll be right back,” Nathaniel finally said.

“You better be,” Andrew said, and Nathaniel walked out the locker room doors.

--

The ride up to the tower was about as ominous as Nathaniel knew it was going to be. He knew what was about to happen. Everything was pointing in one singular direction than Nathaniel knew what was going to happen, but one, paranoid voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to start counting down the minutes just like he did in Baltimore.

There were actually two guards sent for him. That added to the ominous atmosphere. Ever since Nathan Wesninski was killed, Lord Ichirou had been in a panic, cutting ties and killing those who he thought were traitors. Nathaniel guessed that, even after his vow to Lord Ichirou to remain loyal, Lord Ichirou still was paranoid that he would run. It made sense to send two guards; one to catch him, and one to do the killing.

But Nathaniel didn’t plan on running, so he let the atmosphere choke him as they travelled up to the tower in dead silence.

When the elevator arrived to the top floor, Nathaniel stepped out and was followed by the two guards. The elevator doors closed, and the two of them stood in front of them. Nathaniel then realized that it wasn’t only him that they were keeping from running away.

Lord Ichirou stood at the window that looked out to the court. He stared out of it with as much intensity as if there was still a game going on. Other guards and people of the Moriyamas stood around the borders of his room, so still that they could have been statues. Tetsuji and Riko were sitting on a leather couch in the middle of the room. Tetsuji stared ahead as if there was no one else in the room with him. Riko had never looked more broken and haggard, and Nathaniel saw the cast around his left arm poking out of the sling. No one seemed to notice Nathaniel’s entrance.

Nathaniel didn’t move and everyone remained silent. Nathaniel counted the seconds, and he got to two minutes and three seconds before Lord Ichirou finally moved. He removed a gloved hand from his pocket and held it out to one of his guards. Wordlessly, the guard walked over and gave him a handgun. Lord Ichirou took it and stepped forward until he was an equal distance from both the couch and Nathaniel.

Lord Ichirou then turned his icy stare onto Nathaniel and that paranoid voice in the back of his head suddenly seemed more realistic. He prepared to plea for his life once again, was ready to give Lord Ichirou all his earnings if it meant he could live, when Lord Ichirou turned away from him and stepped towards the couch.

Lord Ichirou first stood in front of Tetsuji. He spoke quietly to him, quiet enough so that Nathaniel could barely hear him. He was only able to pick up a few words in Japanese, but not nearly enough to put together the context of what he was saying to his uncle.

He then figured it out extremely quick when Lord Ichirou put the gun to Tetsuji’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

The shot was deafening, but Nathaniel found himself wincing more at the blood splatter across Riko and the couch more than the noise. Tetsuji slumped back on the couch. With his other gloved hand, Lord Ichirou pulled the body forward and let it fall on the floor.

Lord Ichirou then took one step to the side and crouched in front of Riko. The two brothers looked at each other for the first time, and Nathaniel realized that the coldness he saw in Lord Ichirou’s eyes was the same coldness he used to see in Riko’s.

Now, though, Riko looked at him, crushed and utterly defeated. “Ichirou,” he barely choked out, his voice drowned in emotion. Lord Ichirou just stared at him.

Riko looked at if he was about to say something else, but he didn’t get his words out in time. Lord Ichirou put the gun to Riko’s temple and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered and Riko’s body slumped.

Checkmate.

Lord Ichirou carefully placed the gun in Riko’s limp hand and Nathaniel put together the plan the Moriymas had in mind.

Lord Ichirou then turned to Nathaniel and stepped up to him. “It seems that our common enemies are finished,” he said. “Are you satisfied?”

Nathaniel nodded. “I am,” he said. “Thank you, Lord Ichirou.”

“Remember what I told you, Wesninski,” Lord Ichirou continued. “You cannot go anywhere where your roots won’t lead you back to us.”

“I won’t forget that, my Lord,” Nathaniel assured and Lord Ichirou nodded.

“You are dismissed, then.”

Nathaniel being led out of the tower and back into the elevator was a blur. He didn’t register any of his surroundings, but he could feel the grin on his face. It was over, it was finally over, and Riko got what was coming for him for a long, long time.

When he arrived back in the locker room, it seemed like all the other Ravens had flocked elsewhere, until he turned to his locker and saw Andrew waiting for him. Nathaniel flashed him a smile and Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you so happy?” Andrew asked, his stare intense on Nathaniel.

Nathaniel cocked his head to the side and felt his grin grow wider. “We won, Andrew.”

--

The Edgar Allan Ravens’ Exy team was not deemed mentally or emotionally fit to join the student body for the last couple weeks of the semester. Having just lost their coach, their captain, and their team, the school board saw that another sudden change might hinder the Ravens more than help.

And yet, things felt lighter, easier, in the dorms. No one spoke to each other, yet no one fought. For the first time in their college careers, some for the first time in their lives, they did not have someone breathing down their necks. They were free to make their own choices. Eventually. For right now, they were to stay in the Nest with near constant supervision. Except this time, the supervision was to make sure they didn’t fall apart, instead of constantly bending and breaking them.

The Ravens were to finish out their spring semester, and come fall, there would be no more Edgar Allan Raven Exy team. The athletes were free to just be students or to transfer, but the school board didn’t believe it to be just to let the Ravens’ Exy team, a force that had grown from powerful to manipulative and abusive, to continue.

Riko’s death was ruled as a suicide. By the time he and Tetsuji were found, Lord Ichirou and his men were long gone. Anyone who saw the staged scene put the pieces together and found their conclusion: Riko Moriyama, captain to the former National Champions Edgar Allan Ravens, in a manic frenzy of not being able to cope with the bad news on the Ravens and losing his title of Champion, shot his uncle and then himself. Anyone who had seen the news and heard of what happened down in the Nest believed it, which was basically everyone.

Except Nathaniel. Nathaniel knew what really happened. But that would have to be his own little secret, unless he wanted Lord Ichirou to do the same to him.

Nathaniel stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His scars had healed and he traced his finger over the one that ran just below the three tattooed on his cheek. Eventually, he would have to make up a story for how he got those scars. Or maybe he could tell the truth. Nathaniel had time, though. The Exy season was over, and Nathaniel didn’t even know if he would have a collegiate Exy season in a couple months.

He still hoped he would play, though. There had been a few pro teams waiting for Nathaniel in the draft, and maybe that could be where he turned.

Still, though, Nathaniel had time. He smiled at himself in the mirror at the thought.

The bathroom light flickered and he turned on his heel to leave. The black hallway was vacant, but Nathaniel knew that his fellow Ravens were in their dorms and in the lounge. They were probably attempting to find peace in not having to move as one collective unit, or at least trying to cope with it.

Nathaniel pushed the door of his dorm open and found Andrew waiting for him in the desk chair.

“I thought you would have learned to not leave your door open,” Andrew said. “Anyone could walk in.”

“Well, I’m glad that it was you,” Nathaniel said, shutting the door behind him and stepping up to Andrew.

Andrew stared up at him. “Watch it, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel smirked. “What percentage am I at now?”

“One-hundred-and-twenty,” Andrew said. “Very high.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “As it happens.”

Andrew then reached up for him. His hands stopped right before the collar of Nathaniel’s shirt. “Yes or no?”

Nathaniel gave Andrew his affirmation and, rather quickly, Andrew pulled Nathaniel down into a kiss. Nathaniel’s hands immediately found their place in Andrew’s hair, and Andrew’s own bunched Nathaniel’s shirt in his fists.

Nathaniel was glad he closed the door, because only a couple seconds later, there was a knock on it.

Nathaniel pulled away and Andrew breathed out what seemed like a sigh of annoyance. “Sorry,” Nathaniel said with a slight laugh before going to open the door.

The Athletics’ Director stood on the other side of it.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Nathaniel said, unable to keep the confusion from his voice.

“Hello.” The Director looked at Nathaniel and then Andrew. “Good, you’re both here-” Nathaniel quickly looked back to Andrew. “There is a David Wymack here to see both of you.”

David Wymack, as in Kevin’s father, as in the coach of the Palmetto State Exy team. Here. For Nathaniel and Andrew.

Nathaniel and Andrew shared a look before wordlessly following the Director up to the court. David Wymack was waiting in the inner court, sitting on one of the benches and reading over two files in his hands. He looked up when the other three entered.

“I will be in your late coach’s office if there are any issues,” the Director said before making his way to Tetsuji’s office. Neither Wymack, Nathaniel, or Andrew spoke until the Director left the court.

“What are you doing here?” Nathaniel asked, his mind running too fast to be able to put together pleasantries.

Wymack sighed, standing up. “I should’ve expected after Kevin showed up that I wouldn’t get any manners here,” he said, approaching them. “But I don’t think we need introductions.”

“No,” Andrew said. “We don’t.”

“So, I’m going to cut to the chase,” Wymack said, presenting the two files in his hands. NATHANIEL WESNINSKI and ANDREW MINYARD were written on them in large, slanted letters and Nathaniel’s mind finally processed what was about to happen. “I believe that we all have something that could benefit each other. You are two skilled Exy players with no team, and I am a coach with openings on my lineup.”

Nathaniel blinked down at his file before finally looking up at Wymack. What Wymack was presenting worked out too well. The Ravens lose their Exy team and all of a sudden Wymack is here offering them a spot on his team. There had to be a flaw in his plan. Things never worked out this easily, and they sure as hell weren’t about to start.

“But you really only need a goalie,” Nathaniel began to ramble. “You only have Renee. Having Andrew would mean a better defense because Renee wouldn’t have to extend her energy over an hour and a half. But you already have three backliners, and Matt isn’t graduating for another two years, and Nicky and Aaron the year after that. Really, you need a striker since Seth is leaving your line. But I’m a backliner. And you… you have three, already.”

Wymack arched an eyebrow at him. “I see you’ve done your research,” he said. “But, frankly, I don’t give a damn about anything you just said. You two meet the two qualifications for my team, and I will admit, I am not the only one who wants you two. Kevin practically begged me to get you two on our lineup for next season. Of course, he mainly saw it as bettering our playing strategies, but I don’t think even he would be against having some familiar faces on the line.”

“I don’t think I can deal with you and Kevin obsessing over Exy again,” Andrew muttered, but when Wymack presented two contracts, he took the one with his name on it with no hesitation.

“But also, my team is about second chances,” Wymack continued. “I’ve heard of what goes on down here from Kevin, and specifically what happened in this ‘perfect court’ that was created. And, personally, I think you two deserve another shot in life to be who and what you want to be without someone telling you what that ‘who’ and ‘what’ is.”

And, personally, I think you two deserve another shot in life to be who and what you want to be without someone telling you what that ‘who’ and ‘what’ is. They were words that Nathaniel had said to himself time and time again to give himself hope that, one day, he would escape the Nest. But he never thought someone else would see that potential, too.

Nathaniel, with a shaking hand, took the contract being presented to him.

All he wanted was a future out of the Nest, following Andrew wherever he went. He never considered a future like this, though. A future having another team and a number; a future doing what he loved without the pressure to be better than everyone else, but to not usurp a king. A future with Andrew at his side, not because he followed him, but because they were both wanted.

“But, with that being said,” Wymack continued. “You two do have a choice, and it’s one that I can’t -and won’t- make for you. I’ll be with your Athletics’ Director, come talk to me when you two are ready.”

Nathaniel and Andrew wordlessly watched him leave.

Nathaniel then turned his stare back to the contract in his hands. A full scholarship to do what he wanted to do, with people who understood. A future of orange and white.

Nathaniel liked those colors much more than black and red.

“I want this,” Nathaniel whispered, crinkling the edges of the paper in between his fingers. “This is what I’ve wanted all along.”

“Then take it,” Andrew said. “Nothing, no one, is here anymore to stop you.”

Nathaniel thought of his old life compared to the one laid out in front of him. The life behind him left him with scars from fights and traumas. The life before him gave him a chance to become a new person. A second chance, as Wymack dubbed it, to leave behind the life that hurt him and beat him and told him that he was never going to amount to anything more than a number.

Ghosts would follow him wherever he went, and they might never really leave him. Kevin and Andrew would stick with him, but Nathaniel didn’t consider them ghosts.

Nathaniel turned to Andrew. “I don’t want to be Nathaniel Wesninski anymore,” he said, his voice barely over a whisper. It felt odd to hear those words leave his mouth. His father had put the Wesninski branding on him the moment he was born, but he found that he was not his father. He was someone better. He wasn’t violent by nature, guided by hate and a cleaver. He just knew when to fight back for what was right, and who to fight for. He was not his father, and now he had the chance to leave the Wesninski name behind him.

He wanted to take Andrew with him and start a new life as a new person with a new team.

“Then leave him behind,” Andrew said. “Let him die with the Ravens, let him die with Riko and your father.”

“I don’t know who I want to be yet.”

“You don’t have to. Just keep moving forward.”

“I want you with me,” Nathaniel admitted.

“I will be.” It was the first time that Andrew didn’t deny their relationship. Nathaniel found himself smiling, and for once Andrew didn’t tell him to not look at him like that.

Andrew’s eyes flicked over Nathaniel’s face, and something that could have been a small smile turned his lips up. “One-hundred-and-twenty-four percent.”

Nathaniel laughed. Everything felt real. Not everything was okay, and maybe things wouldn’t be okay for a while, but things were real. Kevin, Nathaniel, and Andrew came out of this whole situation alive, and they were now going to be teammates again, except this time wearing orange instead of black. They would need time; time to heal, time to get to know each other out of the Nest, time to adjust to a life of not having violence and torture held over their heads.

But things were real, and things were progressing.

For now, though, Nathaniel and Andrew had to find Wymack. They needed to talk about when practices would start, and what new equipment they would need, and when they would be meeting their new teammates as Foxes instead of runaway Ravens.

First, though, they needed to sign those contracts.

Nathaniel went to follow in the direction Wymack went, and Andrew fell into place next to him.

While walking, Nathaniel Wesninski traced the three on his cheek. At a younger age, the marker would have smudged under his touch; however, the ink, scarred into his face, held up. The permanent ink, for so long, was an ever constant reminder to Nathaniel that he was not a person, but just a mere number destined to be a servant to the Ravens and the Moriyama family. For all his life he had been a thing, a machine, a number. He had been a lackey, a punching bag, an ally under circumstance. Now, though, perhaps the mark could be a sign for what he survived. He was finally going to be seen as a human being, and he was alive to see it.

If life had gone different, he would never have had any of this. He would have never suffered through the Ravens. He never would have had to know Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama and endure what they had done to him. He would have lived a life that he hoped would have been semi-normal.

But life had not been different. And he couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t change what he had done, the promises he had made, and the promises he wished he could have kept. He couldn’t change the scars and the bruises and the nightmares that would be an ever constant reminder of the life he had to live.

For the first time in his life, though, he had the chance to change his future. His past couldn’t have been different, but his future could be. He had the opportunity to do what he wanted, finally not governed by a forceful hand. The only thing left indebted for was to do what he loved, and he found that a great way to start the rest of his life.

And he was going to do it. He was going to make a new life for himself with new people and a new identity, and he was going to do it with Andrew at his side.

He continued off in search of Wymack, and Andrew was next to him, and occasionally their hands brushed, and Nathaniel was happy.