#this happens on the same day after Wille's speech obvious from all their clothes

[crownedwille]

I just had some ideas I wrote in the tags for how that could go down in universe @raincitygirl76

[cinnamonest]

Razor (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

@bleachlemon

I'm glad you are ok with it because oh boy do I have some very very n a s t y noncon-y thoughts about our wolfboi. We love a dense boy, not a single thought in his empty, horny lil brain. Head empty, just horny for y/n. 

I also have the big horny™ for any cross between boys and canines... Does smth for me. As if my favoritism wasn't obvious by how much I've written below lmao

tw: general yandere content, violence, mentions of n/sfw

tw below cut: breeding, heavy  noncon, like jfc this is nasty, misogynistic

----

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The biggest issue with Razor is his complete and total lack of restraint. He sees no need for it, he has no real concept of social norms. Wolves don't really practice restraint on... anything. When they see something they want to kill, they kill it, when they see something they want to have, they have it, when they're mad, they attack, when they're hungry, they eat.

So in a way, he's perfectly lucid, but doesn't act as a normal lucid person who understands social norms would do. He knows that you give him some burning, fluttery feeling, and that he enjoys having you around, and that he gets sad when you have to leave. He's perceptive enough to know it's the same urge that drives humans to form their long-term mate partnerships. If that's what they refer to as "love," he'll readily adopt that term as a way to describe what he feels. What he doesn't get is everything between point A and point Z. No point in all the "courtship" and "marriage" and other human customs -- he doesn't need to "date" to know you're the one, and he doesn't need some signed paper to signify he loves you. In his mind, it's perfectly logical to expect you to immediately come live out in Wolvendom with him. You did accept all his courtship signs, after all.

Wolves are very straightforward with it, you see. Their courtship includes going for walks side-by-side, close to each other, which you did when you let him guide you through the woods. Wolves will rest their head or legs on the other, and you let him rest his head on your shoulder (even if you flinched with surprise when he did, uncomfortable but too nice to say anything). He even when to the extent of engaging in human mating rituals -- you accepted all those gifts he hunted down, and you smiled when he said nice things about how pretty you are, how nice you smell.

So in other words, you've basically already accepted him as a mate. That's what he's perceived, and changing his initial perceptions is not easily accomplished.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

One of the most likely, and definitely the fastest. Possibly after meeting you a single time. He can't take the risk of you not coming back.

He won't be very subtle or sneaky about it either, not tricking you into walking right into captivity, nor drugging you or taking you in your sleep. It's very straightforward - it's not like there's anyone in Wolvendom to hear you, so he has no problem just slinging you over his shoulder and carrying you off. He kinda gets why you'd panic, so he reassures you that no, he's not gonna eat you or anything, you're just going home.

Don't worry about the pack - they won't eat you either, or even hurt you. He's already told them not to. He gets why you might be frightened by the massive, snarling creatures and their massive teeth and eyes that shine in moonlight, but he'll make sure you get used to them and accept them as your family, just like he has.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

That depends. Can you fight off two 180-pound masses of claws, teeth, and muscle? If so, sure, it'll be easy. If not... you'll have some issues.

He's lucky to have such a loyal pack that will help him with these things - they don't exactly understand why you'd want to leave, but they know you're not supposed to. Even when he has to leave you, which isn't often, he'll leave a few of them around to watch you. To make sure no one comes and steals you or anything - and of course, the implication that it's to make sure you don't run away, either. He doesn't really get why you would, but he's come to the realization, based on what you've tried to tell him, that you miss your family and friends. And he gets that, he really does, but in the end, he's selfish at his core, and his empathy for you isn't enough for him to just let you go.

He sleeps latched onto you, arms wrapped around you, so it's not a good idea to try. Your best bet is to wait for a time he's gone and distract the wolves with something, which isn't too hard, and run for it. But even if you do manage to escape, you won't be for long. They can smell you from a mile away and will use your scent to pinpoint you down within a few minutes. They don't exactly have any gentle ways of taking you down and bringing you back, either. They're basically going to have to use their teeth, so it's better if you don't struggle - you'll just hurt yourself.

If he catches you, though, he'll just get huffy and angry, and much like when initially taking you, he'll just pick you right up and bring you back. He's not opposed to stealing ropes and the like from the passing knights, and tying knots isn't too difficult to figure out.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Poor boy is very easy to lie to and manipulate. Head empty, not many thoughts up there. However, you'll have to be clever about it, because most of the time, even if he believes you, he doesn't care. Sure, you can easily convince him that it's normal for human couples to sleep separately... But that's not going to stop him from curling up with you, because that's what he does. That's what wolves do.

He will, however, be somewhat easily manipulated into getting you things you want, if he thinks it'll make you happy. However, obtaining things you want will almost definitely come in the form of theft, or worst case scenario, the body of a passer-by that just so happened to have something you wanted visibly on their person.

If he finds out you lied to him on something, he'll get pouty and grumpy. It's not pleasant, but it's better than the rage reaction of some yanderes.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

His life revolves around you, and yours should revolve around him. That's how mates are. You can go for walks in the woods! You can take naps in the sun together! You can spend literal hours mating! Why would you need anything else?

That being said, he's always had a uniqueness from the wolves in that he's awake more - wolves sleep about 14 hours a day, him only about 8 or 9. You'll definitely be getting a lot more sleep than you would back home, but you'll have a few precious hours to yourselves. It makes him happy - it used to be time he spent all alone, a reminder of how he didn't truly fit in with humans nor wolves. But now, you have that time together! He's willing to do most anything you want, so long as you're together. He's always had some adaptative differences he practices by himself - making fires, cooking food on them, wearing clothes. If you want to go exploring, you can do that, if you want to make food, you can do that too. He'll even accommodate you if you want to do useless things, like your insistence on teaching him to read, or practicing his speech.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

It's fairly simple. Don't leave. That's really the one big one.

He's actually not one to make a rule against fighting him - he'll see it as you wanting to play fight, wrestling, which wolves do all the time. It's fun, even if it's easy for him to win. And it's exciting when you fight back, in a weird way.

Don't make contact with other humans, if you see them. Oh, and he'll want you to report to him everything you did or saw while he was gone hunting.

Generally, if he gives you a command, which isn't too much, he expects you to follow it. In his mind, he's the male, he's supposed to tell you what to do. Isn't that how it usually works with humans too?

If you're too disobedient, he'll get grumpy. Honestly, his most likely form of dealing with it is to wrestle you to the ground, and essentially hold you down until you comply or agree to whatever he wants.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Rip.

But seriously. No, they're not going to last. He's one of the more paranoid ones, because deep down he's aware of how little he understands. For all he knows, every human male that talks to you could be doing what you call "flirting." Hell, didn't some girls like other girls too? How does he know which ones do and which ones don't? That means everyone is a threat, and he can't let threats get in the way.

He's not one of the ones to be subtle or try to hide it from you. He will probably try a little bit if he knows it's one of your family or friends whose blood is soaking his clothes when he comes back to you, but if it's random, he might even be proud. Look at that, he took down a whole search party that came looking for you all by himself! It's proof of his strength and dominance, and you should be happy that you have a strong mate to protect you! And he doesn't really empathize well - if you're upset, he will explain exactly that to you, and insist you change how you see things. Humans are so strange, being upset that your mate is able to protect you. You'll see why it's a good thing eventually, he's sure.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets frustrated pretty easily. It's usually just a lack of understanding, in his mind, you're being unnecessarily difficult almost all the time. He has told you a million times he doesn't care about whatever is normal for humans, yet you continuously bring it up, and that's a bit irritating. He'll huff and sigh and clamp a hand over your mouth if you're going on about it, and if you really refuse to shut up about it, there are a variety of ways of making you quiet - or distracting you from complaints.

He's got an immature streak, as he never really had anyone around to teach him otherwise. So he gets very pouty, a little bit aggressive and forceful when it comes to being upset over something or getting his way. If he wants attention and you're not giving it to him, he won't hesitate to just take whatever you're holding and focused on of your hands and toss it to the side.

On the positive side, he's never going to be passive aggressive. He's always straightforward and has no hesitation to tell you exactly how he's feeling.

If he's genuinely, truly furious, he can get violent. He'll probably apologize and definitely feel bad, licking all the little wounds. He wouldn't try to do anything so bad as bone breaking or severely hurting you, but might accidentally lose control of his own strength.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

More or less an equal. Not much to say here, as, to be honest, that sort of thing hasn't really crossed his mind. He doesn't waste time with thoughts of relative value, he just knows he loves you and wants you.

Subconsciously, it would be slightly below. Due to a very natural upbringing, he automatically associates males as being the leaders and alphas, while females are... Well, puppy-making machines. Don't try to accuse him of any sort of sexism or anything - he can't even really wrap his head around the concept, much less understand why it's wrong to acknowledge how much weaker you are than him. If you need proof of that, he can easily wrestle with you and prove it.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Pretty highly determined. He mistakes a lot of things as signs of love, though. You might be only complying out of fear or exhaustion, but he won't be able to tell, he's not good with facial expressions, so he thinks it's a sign you're accepting him.

Honestly, he's one of the ones that, albeit unintentionally, will kind of guilt you into acceptance. You inevitably feel bad for him, you can tell how lonely he really is, and how desperately he loves you, wants you to love him. His intentions aren't malicious, and it's actually difficult to truly resent him, unlike some yanderes. Ironically, it reaches a point where rejecting him sometimes really does feel like kicking a sad little stray puppy in the rain - it makes you feel awful when he gets sad and quiet.

While there are a lot of yanderes who would be a lot more earnest and striving to serve and please you, which he doesn't really do, he's probably one of the most patient yanderes when it comes to this. He doesn't care if it takes the rest of your lives. He'll never give up or just settle for having you with him, he'll be loving you and trying to be reassured of your love till the day he dies, if that's what it takes.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Primarily, it's hard to emphasize how significantly his lack of human socialization impacts his yandere behaviors.

Most yanderes are forced to acknowledge the inherent wrongness of their actions - some will accept it and not care that it's wrong, some sadists enjoy knowing it's wrong, some will delude themselves into justifying it, some will try their best to act within moral boundaries or make up for their wrongness somehow. But all in all, they all have to face the reality of the situation and understand that what they're doing is considered wrong.

Razor's not like that. He doesn't really take the moral aspect into consideration. To him, the whole idea is simply a human thing entirely. It doesn't matter what humans do. He views the world in a very black and white sense. Morality is a more abstract concept, what's more important is how things are relative to himself - what he wants.

Tends to communicate in strange ways. Excess emotions, too much happiness or anger or whatever can make him forget his words, so there's a lot of subtle communication through grunts, whimpers, growls. Over time, you learn how to distinguish between the various noises and body language and what they mean.

Will lick you. It's weird. It's kinda gross. But it's just how he shows affection. He tends to get carried away with kisses, ending up lapping at your lips, licking your neck and collarbones, nuzzling his head into you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Scientifically speaking, male sex drive is heavily boosted by testosterone. Testosterone can be greatly increased by heavy physical activity, eating high amounts of meat, sun exposure, and is even directly correlated to spending large amounts of time outdoors. 

You see where this is going.

Very high drive, very touchy, and no reservations, no shame. Thank whatever deity you care to recognize in Tevyat that you're isolated from other people out in the woods, because he has no concept of norms or appropriateness, and trying to get him to understand is a fruitless effort. You're wasting your time trying to explain the idea that groping and touching out of the blue is considered rude, or that most human men take issue with being very visibly, very noticeably hard and would likely try to conceal it, not just sit there with the blatant bulge poking forward... His response will only be that you're far away from humans, so it shouldn't matter. He's just trying to show you he loves you, that's why he insists on grinding into you all the time, staring at your body, humping you when you're curled up together quite ironically like a horny dog.

Unfortunately, he basically just does not know how to be gentle or slow about it. He can start off trying to be slow and soft if you beg for it, but once you're actually laying there and he's in you, he gets caught up in instinct and the heat of the moment, and just kinda... forgets about that whole "slow and gentle" thing, opting to just rut you as hard and fast as possible.

He doesn't talk much during sex. He already has some trouble forming sentences in normal times, you can't expect him to when he's fucking. You won't get a lot of words besides the occasional, "good, feels good," or little commands, but you will get a lot of animalistic noises - possessive growls, little whines of pleasure. He doesn't have any sense to hold back on his noises.

He's also the least likely to care about things like shaving, periods, or imperfections. Which is good, but you also can't use those things as an excuse to not fuck, it'll go in one ear and out the other.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

It's not so much an intentional disregard for your willingness, so much as a combo of not really considering it, and thinking it's just something you'll change on. If he's human, and he has the urge, that means surely you do too. Sometimes humans need emotional connections before they want to mate, right? So he just needs to express his love to you. The looping problem there is that fucking you is pretty much his primary way of expressing love. It'll work out in the end, he guesses.

His limited knowledge of humanity also will lead him to certain conclusions. From what he understands, human society often shames females for having sex and wanting sex, right? That's dumb. But their mentality is probably ingrained in your brain, isn't it? That's why you act like this. But don't worry, he's not like the human men. Wolves don't feel that way. You'll understand that with time.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Biting/Scratching/Marking

It's a natural reaction to him. If he's balls deep in you, mounted on and pounding into your body, thrusting so hard that your body is lurching forward with every movement, he wants a way to hold you still, keep your body in place so that each pounding goes deeper and harder. It's second nature for him to just sink his teeth into your jugular, your neck, your shoulders. As an added bonus, he likes seeing the marks it leaves behind, in addition to how his fingernails that dig into your hips leave little indents in your skin.

Breeding

He doesn't know how to not cum in you. You can't honestly expect him to pull out of you, you're so warm and wet and soft, it would be torture not to reach a climax buried inside that tight heat. You can go on a rant about not wanting to get pregnant, but it'll go in one ear and out the other. He doesn't get it - you're supposed to want to have his pups. Do you not think he's a suitable mate for reproducing? You'll be halfway through explaining why kids aren't in your current agenda before being flipped over and pounded into yet again with his newfound determination to prove his strength and dominance to you. Once you understand that, surely, you'll want all the puppies you can possibly make.

Predator/Prey

This applies mostly to escape attempts. He'll be mad, but it triggers something in him, something instilled by years of hunting down poor little prey animals. The desire to hunt you down, find you, and ruin you. Instead of ripping you apart like he would boars, he can't think of anything but just fucking you up against the nearest tree, the ground, anything. The faster you run, the more afraid you are, the more exciting it is. It's a very primal urge, one that commands all sorts of predators, both in feeding and breeding.

Forced Orgasms

As with many human things, he makes certain discoveries with time about sex. The first time you fuck, it'll probably be too rough for you to really cum, but it'll only be a few days in before your body adjusts to the girth that's frequently inside of you, and you end up spasming all over him - and he's just got this shocked expression, watching with amazement when you clench down and quiver under him. Wait, you mean human females can orgasm too? Not just the men?

From that point forward, he's determined to fuck, lick, grind, and force every orgasm out of you as physically possible. It makes him feel a weird sort of pride and contentment. It's one of the few things that makes him a big smug. Even if you feel like you can't possibly cum any more, he'll try anyway.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

It's your purpose! He has learned that human girls only have one baby at a time, sometimes two, which is nothing compared to how many pups wolves usually have in one litter. That means that you'll have to make up for the lack of quantity of pups with quantity of pregnancies, which means constantly breeding and breeding and making sure every last drop stays inside of you. He doesn't understand why humans would even want to prevent pregnancy, it's the best thing that can happen, it's the whole reason you're alive, and it's a sign that you're his. Like with most things, he knows eventually you'll come around. Once you actually have the pups there in front of you, you'll love it. He knows you will.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He's a little lacking on the thought process behind punishing. If he's mad, it tends to cloud his thoughts, reverting to a more animalistic state, and he's not gonna have the complex thoughts required to really think through punishment, so it's not gonna be anything complex.

Doesn't really matter, if he's mad, just fucking you is going to feel like a punishment, with him slamming you into the ground, a tree, any rough surface nearby and just rutting you, claw-like fingernails digging into your skin and teeth sinking into your shoulder to hold you in place, a hand clasped around your throat. Fucking is basically the primary outlet he chooses for his emotions, happiness, love, stress, and anger alike, a simple, primal form of expression. If he's mad, he just needs to take it out on something, release all of that force and energy into rough, brutal motions. Normally when he's angry, he'll go hunt down some animal, taking all that anger out on the kill. But, recently he's learned he actually quite prefers to release his anger this way. It's more satisfying and enjoyable, and it deters you from stepping out of line, too. It's not just your average slightly rough fucking, no, it's the kind of fucking that will genuinely hurt you, rutting you over and over until your insides are burning from friction, your walls and cervix so completely bruised and abused you'll feel the  throbbing soreness with every movement for days, hands leaving massive bruises all across your hips and shoulders. Not that that's any excuse to not fuck more, no, no soreness will get you out of normal daily routine.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He has a thing for breasts. They're very unique to humans, it's something he hasn't had the opportunity to see or understand, and he'll spend a lot of time just burying his face in them, licking and sucking. Big or small, doesn't matter. He just likes them.

One more nasty HC i can't not talk about

wait, you mean humans have sex... Facing each other? There are positions other than doggy? It's all he's ever seen. Porn and the internet don't exactly exist in this world. The whole concept blows his mind. He can fuck you AND see your face while he does? He'll nearly faint right then and there, and you'll regret bringing it up once you've gone numb from the repetitive pounding. He'll start asking you what else exists out there, his brain will start thinking of all the different ways to fuck he's never thought about. Once he learns you can ride him, he's in heaven, even if it's not so much riding so much as you sitting on his cock and him bouncing you up and down with such ferocity you can't even move your legs.

Speaking of things he doesn't know about, if you're smart, you make sure he doesn't find out about blowjobs. He'll love it, and it won't be a blowjob so much as him literally fucking your throat, grabbing your head and hair and just wrecking your mouth.

None of it is him trying to hurt you, really. He just doesn't understand how to be gentle. He might get better with time, but he's got a predator-born ferocity, a primal roughness that will always be a part of his nature.

(yes i did research on wolf courtship/mating rituals for this bc i suffer for my art)

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

checkmate

summary: where y/n and spencer live in a world of soulmates; but how magical can it really be when the last words of your lover are the only indication of their existence.

word count: 7,054                                                                                               reading time aprox: 26 mins

warnings: character death, angst

a/n: this is my comeback fic, I hope you like it. I made sure to make it extra angsty to compensate for my disappearance :) also this fic can be read by anyone!

masterlist

Chess is a meticulous endeavor, not only in its cold and calculated nature, but also in the player’s ability to detect insecurity flash across their opponents' eyes, the unconscious idiosyncrasies that foretell future moves, and the slow descent into hopelessness that disintegrates the former’s conviction. Most will point out the cruelty of the game, how callous it must be knowing your end eight moves before it happens. However, others will oppose this notion as it is the game; one must lose to win.

It’s all a matter of who plays their pieces right.  

Before that pivotal moment, players can only maneuver through a black and white arena. Fingertips would drum in anticipation while the other would hover over their pieces, striding across the board with purpose. Regardless of the disparity between the players’ experience or skill, there is always one factor, unmoved by player attributes, that is not a disadvantage nor luxury for either party: time.  

Even in the checkered plane, nothing will matter. The players will cease to move, forced to end the game by the lack of time. This mechanism in nature acts as a failsafe if either individual is unable to conclude the game. In other words, there are only two outcomes: winning the game by will or letting time take that will away from you.  

However, what is not noticed is the growing ache in the winner’s chest, disappointment beginning to fester inside of them because of their loss in deciding. In that split realization, the winner is placed on an equal plane as the loser, wondering if they ever really won at all.  

This middle plane is beautiful and tragic simultaneously—maybe the beauty is in the tragedy. But as my palm leaves a bloodied handprint pressed against Spencer’s chest, all I can see is the world around me turning red.  

Please be okay, please be okay for me

My mouth would silently mutter in tandem with his desperate and reaching touches, a mantra I convinced myself could surpass time, all while knowing my will was seized from me the moment Spencer uttered the words imprinted at my hip.  

-

October 27th

2 days before  

Water vapor collected around the coffee mug pressed to my lips. Although it’s ironic to call it a ‘coffee’ mug considering it was filled to the brim with scalding tea. The tips of my fingers and the skin of my palms tingled at the heat given off. My thoughts drifted to the explanation of the first law of thermodynamics that Spencer had kindly explained during the walk home from the night before.

  An unconscious smile brushed over my lips briefly, reminiscing the blissful moments of the team gathered around a bar table after finishing up a briefing about a local case. A warm cloud of content passed through my chest while a lightness traveled from the bottoms of my feet to the summit of my forehead. The herbal tea traveling down my esophagus countered the cold nipping of the autumn air, bringing a welcome equilibrium to my wellbeing.  

I shrugged the knitted blanket over my shoulders further, staring into the calming view that the apartment window provided. Across from the building was a small, abandoned park. Most of the neighbors had steered clear of the area as it didn’t meet anyone’s aesthetic standards—well, except for mine. 

 Half of the trees have lost their leaves, counting down the days to winter. The park benches were covered with tangled vines, even some lacking required wood boards. In summary, the place was an overgrown jungle that no one was willing to inhabit. In result, the once communal area was condemned by the normal folk for being ‘too dead.’ However, I would oppose those who claim the lack of life in the park considering life is not only just living, but it is to invite death.  

In my observation of the park, a soft reflection suddenly appeared beside the yellow oak trees. In my peripheral, I can see my roommate creeping up behind me with his limbs moving catlike. I bit my bottom lip to conceal the amused huff threatening to escape me, instead settling to blowing over the steam rising from my cup.  

Just before I saw his head bobble over my shoulder, arms stretched out above me, I whipped around his lanky figure and ducked under his arm. “You know for an agent; I expected a better performance.” An inaudible yelp interrupted the fit of giggles I was in as some of the tea spilled onto my blanket. “Now look what you’ve done! Do you know how hard it is to get dark liquids off cotton?”  

“Just some hydrogen peroxide will do the trick,” Spencer shrugged, insisting to pull off the semi-damp blanket off my shoulders. “Plus, you messed up my bit!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was living with a five-year-old,” I teased, nudging him.

  Spencer craned his neck to the side, letting the sore tendons and muscles stretch out from just waking up. All without forgetting to let out an obnoxious yawn in addition to his exaggeratedly extended arms. “I’ll have you know that this five-year-old has three PhDs and three bachelors,” he boasted.  

“...and daddy issues.”  

Before I can find a way to defend myself, the same blanket that brought me solace previously was transformed into an unmerciful whip. Spencer chased me around the couch until I slipped and toppled over the cushions, landing on the throw pillows. I buried my head into the leather arm, shutting my eyes, while I replicated the nature of Spencer’s antics by emitting ridiculous snores. 

 “You can’t touch me while I’m sleeping,” I murmured, feigning my slow lull to slumber. “It’s socially unacceptable.” During my spiel, Spencer had playfully grabbed my ankles and dragged me to a sitting position.  

“SPENCER!” I gasped, clutching one of the pillows in hand and smacking him over the head with it. “You do not handle people like that! No wonder why you also have momm-”  

Spencer’s palm gently nudged me back onto the couch mid-sentence, leaving my frame to hit the cushions with a loud thud. A boom of laughter filled the empty space of my chest, my breath thinning as dopamine jumped from my brain’s synapses. An enchanted smile caressed the corners of my mouth mirroring the one Spencer was sporting.  

In these insignificant interactions, I would think back to the times where our comfortability was limited and reveled on how much our friendship grew over the years. There was a sense of solace that overwhelmed me knowing that introducing—and working on his—humor brought an auspicious light to the darkness that often clouded his mind.  

My lungs deflated with a hefty exhale, my arm slinging across my eyes in relaxation. Clamored feet and the rug shifting against the wood floor caught my attention. Freeing my line of vision, I was met with a raggedy-haired genius with barely a foot between us. I reached out to comb through his locks, the webbing of my hands catching the tangled curls. “You need to shower greasehead.”  

“Actually, the buildup of sebum and laloin in the gland of the hair follicles—coined as the sebaceous gland—offers moisture and protection, given that it is regulated upon its natural equilibrium.” Spencer leaned into the soft touch of my fingers, like how a kitten purrs against their owner’s affection.  

“Well, I don’t know about you almost-birthday-boy, but I don’t think you want to go into the next chapter of your life smelling like you just changed out of your first diaper.” I pushed myself up the couch, gesturing Spencer to the hallway bathroom. “This is the big 31!”  

“Y/N, we had a party for my 30th. I think I’m good to last for the decade,” he huffed, walking towards his bedroom to grab a change of clothes.  

“That’s not the spirit, Dr. Reid!” I yelled across the room. “I swear Spence, you’re the only person who’d turn down a party... And, you even turned down Rossi’s invitation to go all out in his backyard.”

“Another year to celebrate the ever-closing gap between my time on earth and my imminent demise—oh, and how can I forget celebrating it in an open space full of ticks and pollen,” Spencer sarcastically jested, his voice bouncing off the thin white walls.  

“At least you’d know your soulmate, right? Then I wouldn’t be the only one to deal with your ‘Debby Downer’ ass,” I added on, rolling my eyes at his usual pessimistic rulings.  

“I would prefer nihilistic, but if that vernacular serves you then to each their own.”

“Hey, maybe after you die, I and your soulmate can mourn over you—bond and all that—and then I can steal them away,” I teased.  

I looked to the lightning bolts etched into the crevices of my thighs, my fingertips tracing each design until it fell onto the carved words at my hip. In a way, the stretch marks made beautiful vines attached to the faded letters, covering the obvious red scratch marks that had resurfaced from my bad habits.  

I kissed my fingertips before planting them back onto the markings, chuckling to myself of the intimate gesture. Unconsciously, I began to rub at the tattooed words once again, hating how their protrusion made my skin crawl.  

“I mean I’m dead, what can I really do?” Spencer called out, stopping in his tracks when he reached the bathroom door. He faced me as he spoke, going on about his birthday celebration tomorrow—half of his speech unheard to me—until he requested my immediate attention. “You have to stop picking at the words, Y/N. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”  

“I know, I know,” I sighed, letting my dominant hand fall to my side. A pout fell on my lips at the loss of the small satisfaction scratching granted me. “But the words are just so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean you got lucky with the whole soulmate placement.”  

Spencer brought his free hand to his chest, thumb tracing over the small words typed on the skin. “Yeah, I guess I did get lucky huh.” A soft smile grazed over his lips while his eyes were still trained on the unknowing figure resting against the couch.  

“What does your marking read aga-”  

“Spence, what’s it say on your che-”  

I groaned in playful disbelief at the coincidental timing. “You know at this point I’m starting to think we’re telepathic, Spencer.”  

“That’s actually what my tattoo is,” he laughed. “It’s my name.”  

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, remembering the first time we brought it up in the early days of meeting one another. “Must’ve saved a lot of name tags in elementary school” I teased.  

Spencer shook his head, shuffling into the bathroom with a lightness in his steps. With the closing of the door, my gaze fell onto the marking once again. 

 Regardless of the mechanics of soulmates, I was never worried about the possibility of not meeting them. I was already at my happiest knowing shared moments like these were good enough. However, unbeknownst to my ideal wishes, an irking desire still lingered in the back of my head while fingers hovered over the imperfect skin.  

October 28th

1 day before

“Kid, you can’t sit there and tell me that finding your soulmate can be ‘scientifically extrapolated.’ That’s not the point,” Morgan amusingly shook his head at Spencer, ruffling the top of his head as he brushed past him.  

“Okay,” Spencer tutted, “tell me. What ‘is’ the point then?”

“Well, all I’m saying is that finding your soulmate—if you have one—is supposed to come supernaturally.”

“Morgan, did you just try to win over boy genius here by talking about the supernatural?” With a tilted smirk, I nursed the half-filled flute between my fingertips. My gaze flickered over to a pleased brainiac sharing the same mischievous glint found in my eyes. I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my eyes fluttering close to the sound of grown children bickering. 

 “Alright,” Morgan raised his hands up in defense. “All I was pointing out was that things like these can’t be solved by numbers and science.”  

“The same can be said about Newtonian physics, but look where we a-”  

Morgan flung a ball of crinkled wrapping paper Spencer’s way, aiming for his head. Spencer attempted to dodge the projectile—emphasis on attempted—only to have it hit him square in the face.  

“So much for those Newtonian physics, huh?” I teased while getting up to open another bottle of champagne. Spencer slouched in his chair, the paper cone hat on his head shifting to the side. A grimace replaced the smirk he initially wore, muttering about how he was going to get Morgan back.  

“Y/N! Bring that bottle over here when you’re done.” Morgan called out as I walked into the kitchen, pausing the ongoing discussion of the case we planned to tackle. “Also, bring another juice box for Reid here!”  

A chorus of laughter followed my ears which each step, a grin finding the corners of my lips. I rose to the tips of my toes to reach for the unopened bottle in the alcohol cabinet. I made my way to the freezer, taking out the bucket of ice I stored away hours ago. When closing the appliance door, my eyes landed on a picture magnetized to the surface.  

It was a physical reminder of the time that Spencer convinced me to dress up as Amy Pond, the eleventh doctor’s sidekick, for comic con. He too was dressed up in the doctor’s attire: a brown corduroy suit, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver. We both had silly grins planted on our faces, it seemed like nothing could tear down the joyous bubble we were in. Upon reflecting on the memory, the kitchen door swung open revealing a merry Spencer.  

“Hey, I was supposed to be getting you that juice box,” I joked.  

Spencer shook his head, pushing past me to get to the cupboard. “Very funny,” he droned, sarcasm dripping off his words. I leaned against the counter, setting the bucket of ice to the side. I analyzed his movements, noticing how often he fidgeted with his fingers or how his legs would clumsily turn inward at times.  

“You know,” he paused, turning around to face me, “In some countries ruled by military dictatorship, staring could be deemed as a call for execution.”  

I crossed my arms, challenging him. “Well last time I checked; we aren’t in any of those countries. Is that right, Dr. Reid?”  

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. “Did you need anything?”  

“No, why do you ask?”  

“Well, by the way you were checking me out, I would think you needed something.” He sauntered over to the opposite counter across the kitchen, hoisting himself up on the granite. I watched as the casual smirk fell off his face after failing his initial attempt to sit. The second attempt proved to be better, although that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at his impotence.  

“You know,” I repeated his words, grabbing the champagne and ice bucket as I began to stroll out of the room. “I’m really starting to think you have a better chance at ‘extrapolating’ your soulmate rather than finding them.”  

“Wait!”  

I whipped around to face him with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded for him to continue, watching as a sly expression reappeared on his face. “You forgot my juice.”  

I sighed, setting the items back down on the counter before reaching for the fridge. “You are a grown man, Spence,” I gesticulated at the boy. I grabbed Spencer’s favorite sparkling water and left it aside. “You couldn’t get your own?” I raised my eyebrows at him, ducking out of the refrigerator door.  

He crossed his legs, still propped up on the counter. “Well, you did call me a five-year-old and it is my birthday,” he argued, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.  

“I said that the other day, and considering it’s your birthday, that would mean you’d be old enough to conduct yourself,” I countered.  

“Actually, it’s grammatically inappropriate to say, ‘the other day’ when the event in question occurred yesterday,” he began to ramble. With an unimpressed nod, I began to slowly back away from the scene until I was abruptly stopped once again.  

“Wait!”  

“What!”

“You forgot to put it in a cup,” he meekly suggested, his face evident of mischief.  

“You’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you?” I groaned, shuffling towards where he was. “I’ll give you something to enjoy...” I whispered to myself.  

With a plan set in motion, I sauntered over to where Spencer sat. Once I was in front of him, I made sure to give no indication that I was moving beside him. Instead, I leaned forward, letting our chests press together as I reached up for a mug. I would be lying if I denied the faint blush warming up the apples of my cheeks or the tightness of my throat from this proximity. In a nervous hash, I could’ve sworn hearing Spencer’s breath hitch as my chin brushed against his neck.  

Feigning a confident disposition, I dropped back to the heels of my feet, finding myself to be inches away from the enamored and naive genius. “You need this?” I murmured, trying to maintain a collected tone of voice. However, Spencer did make it difficult with the intensity of his penetrating gaze or the way his breath fanned over my sensitive skin.  

For a lasting moment, I began to dissect the small specks of hazel hues in his eyes and how a dark pool of brown surrounded his irises. The tip of his nose was flushed in crimson and his mouth hung in what seemed like anticipation and hesitation battling it out. “Uh, yeah... thank you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, linking his fingers with mine to take the mug.  

Without breaking eye contact, he set the mug aside and away from view. I opened my mouth to say something, but I soon discovered a dessert residing in the back of my throat. Slowly my composure unraveled, leaving me and Spencer in a purgatory of uncertainty and elation. I heard my heart thump against the walls of my ribcage as my eyes traveled to the parting of his lips, his tongue ever so often swiping against the skin.  

I shook my head out of the trance we were in, popping the hypnotic bubble forming around us. With a trepidatious smile, I gestured to the living room, suggesting going back out there. “Do you want to...” I tied my hands behind my back, stepping away from him slowly. He nodded in response; his mouth tightly pressed into an awkward line.  

With less than obvious movements, we both tiptoed our way back to the liveliness of the other room, soon forgetting about the juice and cup all together.  

-

“Bye guys, thank you for coming! See you tomorrow.” I politely bid everyone a farewell, sending them safe wishes home as they excited through the front door. “Pen, are you coming with us tomorrow?” I received a tipsy nod and a few stumbling feet, but nonetheless confirmation for the case. Spencer was to the left of me doing the same, enduring some last-minute birthday teasing from Morgan before he made his exit.  

With the slow creaking of the door, I leaned against the wood, letting my legs slowly slip down the floor until I was sitting. I tilted my head up, staring at an exhausted Spencer before making grabby hands at him. He snorted at the childlike request, aggressively pulling at my wrists until I landed into his chest.  

“Alright birthday boy, just because you’re older doesn't mean you can get all strong on me,” I warned, nuzzling my heavy head onto his shoulder. A pleasant silence surrounded us, our bodies maintaining an equal balance as we leaned onto each other. On another note, it reminded me of Newton’s principle of force that Spencer explained to me a few months back. How Newton’s cradle, a simple office trinket, exemplified conservation of momentum and energy. In this fragment of space, it felt like that with Spencer—it always felt like that: a comfortable momentum.  

“Hey Spence?”  

The quiet continued to spread throughout the atmosphere.

“Spencer?” I pressed my chin against his chest, feeling his arms find their way to my lower back. He hummed in response, his eyelids resting at a closed position. “I’m sorry about that thing in the kitchen... I was just messing around.”

  He took a while to react before sighing and pressing a tired kiss to the side of my head; with that, I knew things were okay. “Oh! I didn’t give you your present yet.”  

I melted away from his arms, scurrying off to the couch. In an exaggerated reveal, I pulled a small parcel from beneath the cushions, glee filling my eyes as I watched the bow on top spring out. I extended my arms towards Spencer, eager to have him open it.  

He walked tentatively towards me, taking purposefully leisurely strides. At one point he began to act like he was in a slow-motion sequence, causing me to threaten the integrity of his present. With raised hands, he sat next to me on the couch and gently pried the gift from my hands. “What did you get me this time? Let me guess. From the size and shape of his package here,” he turned the box around in his hands, shaking it up, “and the sound to force ratio-”  

“Just open the damn thing, Spence.”

He smiled at my usual impatience, letting his fingers glide against the edge of the parcel. Finally, with gentle hands, he picked apart the wrapping paper, careful not to rip the heart sticker that held the presentation together. He gathered the bow in his palm, and gently pressed the sticky side of the accessory to my cheek.  

I cringed at the feeling, but that soon dissipated hearing the mollified chuckle escape Spencer’s mouth. With a determined huff, Spencer pulled the last pieces of wrapping paper from the box and was left with a frayed book in his palm.  

“The Parliment of Foweles...” he whispered; an unreadable expression crossed his features.  

I curled into my own body, anticipating some form of reaction. “I... I remember you told me the first time we really sat down and got to know each other that your mom used to read that to you when you were younger.” I picked at the stitches on the couch, a lump forming in my esophagus as my tongue swelled. “It’s first edition...” I smiled, insecurity beginning to conquer my excitement from before.  

“Sorry, if you don’t like it... I was just-”  

A pair of arms pulled me into a secure embrace while a tender hand came around to cup the back of my head. An inaudible expression of gratitude was lost in between babbles of endearment and soft caresses. Spencer pulled away with pools of adoration, he clutched the book in hand as he pulled me under his arm. He ran his thumb along the deckles that adorned the sides of the pages, his palm tenderly feeling the roughness of the old woven spine.

To open the book, he singled out a random page and lightly flicked a few pages to the side before I halted his movements completely. “Wait!” I requested. “I want you to read it after the case so we can do it together,” I sheepishly tucked a hair behind his ear, hiding the careful blush on my cheeks. “If that’s okay with you.”  

“Yeah...that’s fine with me,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto the soft curves of my face. I pulled my hand away, tugging my sleeve further down my arm. “Oh! That reminds me.” Spencer places the book behind him and headed over the coat rack next to the front door. Sliding his hands through various pockets, he finally pulled a small box from one of the compartments.  

He tentatively approached me, turning the object in hand. “I know it’s my birthday, but... I wanted to do something because you’ve made everything better in these past years,” he confessed, fidgeting as he came closer. “Being with my mother always felt like home, and I just... you became that for me, so thank you.”  

My fingers reached over to his open palm, approaching the velvet box as if it was fragile. I glazed over its general shape, turning it a few times between my hands. “Spencer...I don’t even know what to say.”  

“Well, you can start by opening it,” he smiled.  

I shook my head, gently prying the box open. Inside laid a beautiful heart-shaped necklace with words etched into the metal. Once I read the words, a heavy breath escaped my lungs, and my shoulders lost all tension. “Spencer...”

  “I thought that it would be easier to have the words of your soulmate above your heart rather than you tracing over your hip,” he professed. “I also know that even if you deny not having any connection to this soulmate thing, it often brings you comfort when needed.”  

My attention went to him the second he uttered those words. “How did you know,” I mumbled with an enamored chuckle.  

“Well, whenever we’re in the field, I could tell the times you get nervous or need reassurance by the way you subtly touch your hip.”  

“I thought staring was punishable by death,” I joked, referring to his argument earlier today.  

He brushed it off with a wide smile, combing his hands through his hair. “I know we have a hefty case tomorrow based on what Penelope showed us last briefing, so I hoped that this would make you feel better,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the arm of the couch.  

“Thank you, Spencer...really,” I wrapped my arms above my head, trying to attach the unlocked chain around my neck. “Can you...?”  

With gracious hands, he lifted the chain from my fingertips and wrapped it around my neck. The skin of his fingers would occasionally brush the back of my neck, sending euphoric chills down my spine. I felt myself squirm under his touch slightly, although it wasn’t enough to be obvious. Lifting my hair to the side with his wrist, he clasped the necklace together, letting the cold metal kiss the skin.  

I turned around, appreciating the trinket in my hands. I shook my head in disbelief, watching as some of the moonlight that seeped through the window reflected off the metal. “Thank you, again, Spencer.” I nodded, bringing him into a meaningful embrace. My head rested in the crook of his neck, an aroma of pine, vanilla, and old books surrounding us. “This really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.”  

He scoffed, gently wrapping his hands around the small of my back. “Everything pales in comparison to you.”  

-

October 29th

...

I twirled the metal heart in between my fingers as Hotch’s words failed to reach my ears. I would look up occasionally to see the pictures, but we’ve been dealing with an unsub who showed no mercy to anything morally reprehensible. I sighed, swinging my feet under me as I pretended to be enveloped by the case file in my other hand.  

“Since we’re dealing with a L.D.S.K-”  

“A long-distance serial killer,” Emily intercepted, nodding towards the team.  

“We’ll have SWAT patrol the surrounding rooftops. Emily and I will stay with the defense team here.” Hotch pointed to the house of the unsub’s target. “Morgan, Y/N, and Reid will go through the floors of the apartment building with the strike team—witnesses stated that he was located on the 5th floor, but we have to be ready for anything.”  

I looked over to Morgan with a determined expression. His face hardened at the words and his lips was pressed into a tight line. In my peripheral, I could see the way his veins would constrict against the skin as he clenched his fists.  

This case hit him particularly hard considering we couldn’t save the unsub’s last victim. It was a 4-year-old little girl, and we were misinformed about her possible location. By the time we got to her, she was faced down into a park well with a single bullet hole above her heart. I watched the slow diffusion of her blood, and how the water turned to a murky black. I couldn’t imagine Morgan’s guilt considering he was so sure of himself when reaching a breakthrough with the unsub’s whereabouts. The parents of the child would soon blame Morgan for his ignorance, spewing derogatory slurs in their distress.  

“We’ll get him Hotch,” Morgan assured, “This time, we’ll get him.”  

Spencer noticed the certitude in his voice, sharing a look with me to give extra attention to Morgan out in the field. I smiled at him, warmed at the concern that the genius had over his friend.  

“I’ll be working with local PD to hold a press conference to keep the public on the lookout,” JJ expressed, crossing her arms.

“Since...last time, we figured that unsub finds enjoyment in toying with us or singling us out. So, keep each other in check and make sure to report back in your earpieces every five minutes.” Hotch himself seemed perturbed by the unsub’s earlier actions considering he had his own toddler to deal with. “Penelope has sent the coordinates to everyone. Remember the profile, and don’t leave yourselves vulnerable. We’re dealing with an elusive unsub that won’t stop at nothing to satisfy himself,” Hotch spoke with a quiver in his voice.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and breathed heavily through my mouth. My hands began to drift to my hip but momentarily stopped as I remembered the chain around my neck. I slumped into the chair as Hotch dismissed the team, sending them out for their respective assignments.  

“You, okay?” I whipped around to the sound of JJ’s voice. She leaned against the doorframe with an expression full of concern. Looking behind her, she noticed Spencer noticeably pacing through the bullpen waiting for a specific someone. He attempted to disguise his eagerness by counting tiles on the floor or squares on the ceiling, but to JJ he was easily discernable.  

I let a dry laugh, shaking my head. “After what happened, I’m a bit worried—not about me—but Morgan and Spence.” I swiveled around in the office chair a few times until I landed in front of JJ.  

“You know you fidget the same way as Spence,” she pointed out, grinning at the similarity. I shook off the oncoming warmth that flooded the skin and looked elsewhere. “You’re right to worry about both of them though. But you know how stubborn and determined they are.” As she began to walk out, she left a lingering message that soothed my nerves. “Plus, Spencer may have that IQ of his, but we all know runs things between you all.”  

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always kept a watchful eye over the both of them—maybe Spencer a little more—but nonetheless, I deeply cared about both of them. It was relieving to know that Spencer’s circle of trust exponentially grew from Morgan to JJ to me. It symbolized the growth that Spencer was mostly oblivious to, but it meant more to me than I can explain, seeing how he opened himself up to happier possibilities.  

A sharp exhale left my lungs while my lips formed into a sly smirk. Without another minute to wait, I left the round table behind JJ, leaving Spencer to stop dawdling. “You ready genius?” I walked out into the hall, not sparing a glance at the figure trailing behind me.

“With you? Always.”  

-

“Nothing here,” a voice confirmed in my earpiece. My gun hung low in my hands while I tiptoed through the floor of the apartment building. “You know Y/N, if I knew that the unsub was going to the pick a building in the area we resided in, maybe I would’ve considered having the party at Rossi’s instead,” Spencer joked.  

I bit the smile growing on my lips, focusing on the assignment on hand.  

“Maybe after the case, instead of reading that book in our apartment we can go over to that small library/cafe we’ve been meaning to go to,” he continued to drone, forgetting about the connection of everyone’s channels.  

“Reid, if all you’re gonna do is flirt with Y/N, leave the damn channel,” Morgan warned. Hearing the worry in his tone, Spencer straightened up, coughing to cover up his soft apology. Being separated didn’t help the irrational thoughts that built up in the back of my conscience; I can’t even comprehend what’s probably going through Morgan’s head.  

“You good?” I mumbled into the com; my eyes straightforward while I advanced towards the hall. Morgan didn’t respond, an inaudible huff coming through the speakers.  

“I’m moving up to the top floor. Y/N and Reid, go back down to the basement and see if we missed anything,” Morgan broke the awkward silence with an austerity in his words. The silent hum that came afterwards was worse than earlier. I turned off my earpiece, sensing a conversation about to ensue between the two gentlemen.

The thickness in the atmosphere was similar to the air that surrounded me and Spencer when competing in recreational chess. Whenever I attempted to put his king in check, he would block the move by maneuvering another piece in front of it. This would lead to a game of cat and mouse until I would figure out that the entire time, Spencer had been deluding me into false security while checking my king piece. Ultimately, I would lose to Spencer. However, there were games where I’d outmaneuver him or win by dumb luck.  

I’d like to think that I developed some sort of intuition for his behavior from playing against him, but he’s deemed unpredictable every game. He was always sharp, eight steps ahead and aware of all possibilities. I guess that’s what make him an effective profiler, always thinking in the future.

I ran down the stairs, still armed, when Penelope’s voice ran through the earpiece. “Updates! Updates people.” The joy in her voice always relived me of the gloom that usually surrounded me in the field; hopefully she has the same effect on Morgan.  

“Hey, Pen.” An invisible grin was evident in my words, knowing she’d pick up on it.  

“Hello, my love, seems like at least one person is happy to see me,” she verbally jabbed at the lack of response from Spence and Morgan.  

Still no response.  

“Sorry, they’re working out their marriage at the moment,” I teased, hoping for the usual distasteful comment I usually get from Morgan.  

Still nothing.  

An unnerving feeling crept up the back of my neck. “Penelope, can you check if their coms are still workin—shit.” Before I could finish, a long buzz of static came through the speakers. The only comprehensible words that were picked up was the beginning of my name before cutting off.  

I bit my lip, pulling out the small piece of technology and tapping it a few times. “Come on... dammit.” After playing around with the earpiece, I grew frustrated with it and stuffed it into my pocket.  

I paced in the small landing between the stairs, thinking of a new gameplan. I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the split ends prick at the skin. I felt a mountain growing in at the bottom of my stomach, leaving my esophagus constricted without air. “What would Spencer do,” I mumbled to myself, gripping onto my necklace.  

“Spencer...Spencer...”  

Before I could finish the mantra, a shot rang out from above me, and the crashing off glass followed. In the split moment, my legs grew a mind of its own and sprinted to higher ground. Suddenly, the sweat perspiring off me turned cold, and my heartbeat slammed itself into my spinal cord as I ran. My feet forgot its exhaustion while my mind devoured every irrational thought, and combined it with adrenaline.  

The single thing that drove me over my limits was knowing that the person who fabricated and would shoo away these thoughts was somewhere I didn’t know I could get to in time.  

-

Spencer’s POV

I tiptoed into a vacant suite of the building, still antsy about the scolding I received from Morgan. The conversation after didn’t help considering it was all a reminder to be aware and focused on the task at hand. I knew Morgan was filled with the need for redemption despite the team forgiving him of his ignorance. So, I shook off the creeping feeling and abided by his instructions.  

Deciding to update Y/N and Morgan about my whereabouts, I spoke into the coms only to have static come out of it. I tried once again but failed to reach anyone. The room around me shrank as a sharp exhale left my lungs. I swallowed the buildup of saliva in the back of my throat, feeling uneasy about not knowing what’s to come.  

Seeing at the area was clear, I looked out of one of the windows. Initially I cringed at the accumulated dirt and grime in the glass panes, but that all dissipated when I spotted the quaint park that Y/N loved. No one else had any interest in the community lot, seeing as people would coin it—or what Y/N would tell me—the park of death. But to her, she saw the opposite as she always does.  

The light feeling of reminiscing my interactions with Y/N soothed the disconcerting atmosphere, keeping me grounded. Although the sentiment ended as soon as it started when I spotted one of the apartment walls was spray-painted with black letters.  

Zugzwang

A blaring shot rang out and glass shattered into the room. I ducked into the floor, shutting my eyes. My head spun as the boom impaired my hearing. The window was forcibly open, the shards resting beside me. Left disoriented, I groaned, only feeling the after wave of vibrations on the ground. However, I soon found out that the quake of the floor wasn’t from the initial shot, but the rapid clobbering of feet inching closer to the suite and a shadowy figure preceding it.  

Y/N emerged from the doorframe, panting. Eyes were laced in fear while they bore into my own. My stomach twisted into knots from previous events while I contemplated what had occurred. The presence of Y/N wasn’t even strong enough to relinquish the egging feeling crawling in my skin. I anticipated Morgan to appear, considering he was closer to the scene.

Where was he?

Another thing I didn’t anticipate, a second shot.  

“Spencer?”  

-

January 3rd

Three months after

My thoughts antagonized one another while I stared out into the world from the eerily quiet apartment. The living room was cold and empty despite the array of furniture scattered about and the broken picture frames lining the walls. The vapor rising from the cup of tea drifted into the air, vanishing into nonexistence. It’s funny how that could happen in a matter of milliseconds.  

The pain the lived inside the chambers of my heart was no match for the burning of skin I felt when holding onto the steaming cup. The only worthy adversary would be the rush of self-resentment that coursed through me when picking up the book. I deserved it though. I deserved the spikes through my stomach while my fingers trailed the deckled pages, reminding me of the first time I held the book, its previous owner present with me.

I would remember our time together.  

I would remember the promise shared between us.  

I would remember the bloodied handprint pressed against my chest.

Now all I had was the physical manifestation of what’s left: the necklace. As cruel as it was for me, I kept it in the book, using it as a bookmark while I lost myself into poems. After a while, the inked words lost their meaning to me, becoming an empty cacophony that encased the jewelry.

Every time I grasped the chain in my clutches, a numbed ache would make itself known at the pit of my stomach. It clawed at my intestines and made the entirety of my body system obsolete. With that, I was abandoned with the sinister hauntings of my own mind—a part of me that I was once praised for. 

 A genius. A prodigy. Hidden behind the real mess of a guilty man.  

I ignored the smashed chess board and pieces that laid still at my feet, concentrating on the snowflakes that littered the park across from the building. The grounds looked beautiful, covered in layers of pure white. I sipped at the tea once more letting my mind deteriorate with a sophisticated nonchalance. 

 What a tragedy it was to know my soulmate, especially right under the tip of my nose. What a cruel joke life had played.  

I wished I had more time.  

It was easier to let the guilt consume me rather than pondering on what I lost—who I lost. Had I lost myself too? Maybe, it didn’t matter. In some masochistic way, I enjoyed the guilt because it was a way to remember that at one point someone made for me existed. I used it to relive the moments I could never get back.  

All that remained was an empty shell of a man, staring out into a dull world, wondering how time took everything away from him.  

-

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[peralta-guaranteed]

Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft. 

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”

[lettrespromises]

#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification. ──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!

─➤ Kuroo Tetsurou sent you a letter, would you like to read it? #CC of the letter directed to : @bbthots-underground​

──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut. ─➤ #𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 : Caught in a snowbound, Kuroo has to work from home. But your sinful envies don’t really match with his working tendencies. Will you be able to keep it quiet for him? Or will you disobey and get punished? It’s entirely up to you. ➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minors please do not interact, +18. Vaginal sex, penetration, degradation, binding. 

« Of course, of course… I understand, mhm. The weather is not on our side, this year’s winter is even more cruel than last year’s. Mhm, for sure, for sure… » Without stating the obvious, this pseudo speech, intercut with several hums leaving the frontiers of his lips, belonged to a man who had to work from home. The blame of such a sudden change was the blowing white storm outside and its ceaseless waves of snow coming to crash down on the ground, the roofs, everywhere. The wind which accompanied the blizzard in this symphony to the ode of the muses of the cold weather seemed to be whistling along to the series of affirmations which continued to pour from his lips like a cascade that couldn’t reach its end.

It was a meaningless consecution of affirmative sentences, perhaps sentences that he didn’t even mean in the first place, but oh well, it was what he would call ‘corporate language’, talk to please the person on the other end of the phone and make them hear what they want to hear.

The discussion, which gravitated around the next selling strategy for the upcoming volleyball competition, wasn’t bound to come to an end anytime soon. Meaning that Kuroo had to more or less listen and give half-interested hums of acknowledgement for a few more minutes. He took a seat on the leather chair throning along with his acacia desk in the middle of the room, his gaze fell on the constant flickering of the ambers in the fireplace to seek a distraction from this deafening discussion.

But there he was, saved by the salute of the echoes of your knocks on the door. You knew perfectly well he was on the phone, being able to hear his hums from the other side of the door, but it’s not as if it was going to stop you. And you stepped into the arena that was his office, dressed in the newest set of scarlet lingerie Kuroo had gotten you (after having ripped to pieces the last set no longer than two days ago.) It was flawless, and the melted perfectly with the shapes of your body. But the way the transparency over the fabric which ‘covered’ your breasts, leaving his imagination run to the darkest corners of his mind, was already stimulating his salivary glands. And he knew, from the first glance on your figure and the way you were leaning against the shut door, that he was going to make a mess out of you… And make that new set of lingerie witness the same fatalist fate as the martyr before. Kuroo didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers pointed at his lap were enough indication for you to understand where you were going to be sitting, after all, you had deemed it as your throne. « Of course, I think it’s the best strategy to valorize the merch. » words fell effortlessly from his mouth, as if he became unfazed by the not so foreign presence on his lap. Or so you thought. « Maybe we could think about asking the MSBY team for some interviews, mhm? » His free hand was busy messily undoing the knot of his tie, far too tight for his liking, before setting his phone in a hold between his ear and his shoulders.

This newfound position gave him the opportunity to undo his belt, the sound of the metal of clicking in unison, and it gave you a hint as where he was going already. You were bound to drag his underwear down, but not before teasing the edge of said underwear with your fingertips (a deed which was saluted with an ill-intentioned glare on his end). « Hold on a second, I’ll be quick. », what a stark comparison between the numbness of his words and the growing bulge obtaining more and more the privilege of omnipotency in the constricting fabric of his boxers.

Kuroo gave a second glance at the phone on his desk, double-checking it was far enough to be able to pronounce the following words without being caught by his correspondent on the other end of the phone call, « All dolled up for me, kitten? How nice of you… » a metaphorical green elixir of mischief dripped down from his words whilst his fingertips found salute on your clothed core, his fingertips moving in appreciation at the sensation of wetness. « Here’s what we’re going to do, kitten, you’re going to ride my cock like the good girl you are but you have stay quiet, mhm? Good girls don’t want to be punished, do they? » Such a rhetorical question, but you nodded nonetheless, eager to feel full once more by the intoxicating sensation of his girth inside you. You were willing to do anything, give up on your boundaries, bend the holy rules of decency if it meant you could reach nirvana. And your ascension began as you allowed yourself to sink on his length, making a martyr out of your lower lip due to the pressure of your pearly whites. You needed to stay quiet, you needed to be a good girl for him.

Kuroo almost felt a hint of guilt at the palette of crimson shades now coloring your lower lip, but it was a sight to breathtaking to feel anything but pure ecstasy. « Tet— Mmphf! » You plea was cut to a halt by the sudden presence of his palm over mouth mouth, were you going to break his rules so quickly? « What did I say about being a good girl? Don’t make me punish you, I know you’re better than that, kitten. » Oh, the disappointed tone in his voice, a forecast of the sinful nature of events which were bound to happen if you kept playing with fire.

And whilst Kuroo was back on the call, having apologized for a pseudo issue caused by who-knows-what, you were hesitatingly rotating your hips, letting the tip of his length kiss your velvety walls. They were shy, almost experimental rotations. But although they were agonizingly slow, you could already feel the sick sensations of knots forming themselves in your lower stomach. Your palms were laid flat on his broad shoulder, your glance solely focused on the way his cock was filling you up, gracing your insides with how the prominent veins were dancing against your walls.

Fuck, was it hard to keep your composure and not give in to the subtle calls of the muses of passion. But he was on a call, the same hums and other signs of agreement leaving his lips whilst his oculars were fixed on you, an ill-intentioned grin throning amongst his facial features as a sign of a silent victory. You were such a good girl for him. He tapped his fingertips against your luscious thighs caging him in a hole he’d dream of spending his entire life in, silently telling you to begin a more rushed rhythm. But before you could start, his index found its way against his lips, another wordless way to demand absolute silence on your end. He knew it was pure torture, that’s why he was liking it so much.

And so you obliged, and the vertical motions on his girth became natural until reaching a steady rhythm which wouldn’t expose you to the light of danger. Or so you thought. Your own betrayal manifested itself when he shifted his position in his leather chair, causing the tip of his length to hit against the roof of your core, a terribly sensitive area which held all the nerves which burned under the sudden touch. A dragged moan left your lips before you could even realize it, your body began acting on its own before your mind did, and that’s precisely when you knew you had both lost yourself and he had lost patience.

You could hear a hushed « Kuroo-san, what was that? Is everything okay? » from the other side of the phone, and the silence invading the air was the worst response Kuroo could ever possibly come up with. « I’ll call you back. » It was short, dry even, and the way his voice had dropped a few octaves was the last sign announcing your own end. He pressed the red button on the screen, thus cutting an end to the call. A sigh of pure exasperation had been set free from his lips, and the silence had become agonizing, the stare he was giving you paralyzed your every move, you could only muster enough strength to swallow thickly.

« I’m so— » You were cut off as soon as the sound of your voice drowned in his eardrums. « Did I give you permission to speak? » You nodded negatively. « Do you know just how spoiled you are? I let you ride on my cock because you can’t seem to get enough of it, mhm? I only ask for one thing in return and you can’t do it properly? Get off. Get off of my cock. Now. »

You did as told, respecting the oh so dear rules of performative language, and found yourself standing before him with your knees almost giving in at the severe look plastered upon his facial expression. You opened your mouth to let out another apology, but your poor attempt had been cut short as he crashed his lips onto yours so roughly he was convinced you had awakened the side of him he always tried to keep tamed.

He had enough pity for you to break the kiss once your lungs began to give up due to the lack of oxygen. « Turn around. » You did as told, awaiting for your fate. « Your arms on your back. » He spat out another order, the coldness of his tone was enough to make a trail of chills run down your spine but you obliged nonetheless. « Tetsu— » Once again, cut off. « Did I give you permission to talk? » He asked, although he already knew the answer to his own question, to which you shook your head. « I thought so too. »

The knot of his tie came out easily, having already undone it a bit earlier on, it dangled from his fingers and his free hand pressed your back against the desk, a move which earned a mewl out of you. Then, his hands travelled around your wrists, leaving a soft caress on your palm before binding his tie around your wrists in a tight hold which severely contrasted with the sweet nature of his previous gesture. You winced in response, furrowing your brows together while he was spreading out your legs. « From now on, I don’t want to hear anything. You can moan as much as you want, I don’t give a damn. Got that, kitten? » And although Kuroo always used this nickname in such a sweet way, this time it had been tarnished by a sinful tone. « Y-Yes, sir. » You choked out, a watery veil covering your oculars in anticipation.

You heard nothing but the sound of his suit pants falling to his ankles, the click of the metal of his belt echoing against the floor, followed by the sound of yet another gulp being swallowed down your throat with difficulty. His fingertips found your core, and they were met with the wetness coating the area. Were you worth cherishing? Certainly not. And yet, he took it upon his kind heart to flick your sweet bundle of nerves, alternating between circular and pinching motions to stimulate you just enough to bring you on the verge of your apex. And just when your moans followed the crescendo of your sensations, he ceased all kinds of motions with a wicked grin on his face.

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration at the sudden lack of touch, your apex hitting a harsh stop so suddenly. « What was that? You’re complaining? » Kuroo half asked, taking a fistful of your hair to orientate your head towards him. « S-Sir, no… I just need, I need… Fuck, sir, I-I need… » Your words were mere hopes against him, your mouth was mouthing unintelligible sounds which found no purpose. « You don’t even know what you’re begging for, how fucking pathetic. » He released the hold on your hair, letting your head fall against the wooden surface of his desk while a string of whimpers left your lips.

« Ah! Please, sir, p-please, just fuck me… » You pleaded, hoping that you’d bent his heart somehow. But you were greeted with a harsh slap right on your derrière in retaliation, « Did I give you permission to speak? You’re fucking lacking politeness, what a slut you are. »

And it was the last vocal warning before he slammed his hips against yours, the latter caused him to dig his pearly whites into his lower lip to prevent any unwanted groan from leaving his mouth at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his cock so tightly. ‘So fucking tight’, he thought, knowing your cunt was made for him and him only. He had to still himself for a few seconds, adjusting to the iron grip which could’ve made him come undone at this very instant, you were too eager for your own good. And yet, you wanted to beg for him to move, do something, but you had to stay silent.

« You. Just. Can’t. Stay. Fucking. Silent. » Each word was accentuated by a slam of hips, followed by the sound of his testicles slapping against your skin. How you wished to bring your fist to your mouth, to bite your poor martyr of a hand at the violence of his thrusts which seemed to increase each time he moved. Pearls of salt gathered at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given second as Kuroo’s thrusts grew more rapid and more precise, kissing effortlessly the myriad of nerves adorning the roof of your core.

The moans fell from your lips like a cascade which couldn’t reach its own end, and so the tears fell. Kuroo, on the other one hand, rolled his head back in ecstasy while maintaining an iron grip on your tied wrists, thus guarantying you to have scarlet marks.

You knew you couldn’t come undone just yet, at least not when Kuroo was feeling like this, but he was close to his own end judging by the ferocity of his thrusts making a martyr out of your poor derrière which was bound to be colored by a palette of crimson shades as well. The inferno had been set free from its chains in Kuroo’s lower stomach, the blood rushing down to his girth in anticipation for the grand finale. « Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Look at what you— Ah! Fuck, look at what you do to me, squeezing my cock so hard like the f-fucking slut you are. » Truthfully, Kuroo needed to gather all of his strength to prevent any loose grunt from leaving his lips at the same time as his curses.

But he was only a mere man facing his temptations. « C-Cum with me, now! » He spat the words in pure lustful frenzy, losing himself in his own thrust while you could only resume to moan your pleasure away. Your were digging your fingernails in your own palms behind your back, drawing crescents into your flesh in order to distract yourself from the fact you were bound to come undone at any given moment.

Your mind was spiraling into a state of blankness, your body falling numb as you witnessed the metaphorical gates of heaven opening themselves before your sins. A hot trail of liquid painted your blank canvas with stains of sins and passion, and in return, the elixir of your own pleasure leaked down the sides of his cock while he was still thrusting his cum into you, all in a cacophony of sounds of pleasure.

Then the movements ceased, leaving room for more silence and choked breath. A trail of drool leaked from your mouth onto his desk, Kuroo stared at the ceiling while trying to re-gain the control of his breathing. The harsh grip of his hands around your wrists loosened up a bit, until they turned into mere caresses. Such a contrast with his previous deeds.

Kuroo was welcomed with a dragged whimper when he pulled out, the sudden feeling of vacuity replacing in the least pleasing way possible the sensation of his cock. And while you were about to fall down on the floor, your knees shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, Kuroo’s grave voice shook you away from your thoughts. « Don’t move. I’m going to get the silk ropes, I’m done not with you yet. »

[pyroclaststan]

After the “Incident”

cw: bleeding (nosebleed), brain trauma

Everything, everyone, and everywhere. You can feel it, taste it, hear it in your mind. It’s a chittering, chirping series of taps against your shields—like bugs against a windshield. You can feel the cracks, feel the splinters, feel the crawl of those fingers that you never should have touched.

You didn’t even know it would work. But it did. And you’re paying for it.

“King? Hellooo? Earth to Kingsley?”

The sound of Ricardo’s voice slowly pushes its way through the dull ringing and muffled choir of the world around him. You barely have reaction time to flinch away from his attempted tap on your forehead. You should’ve seen that coming from a mile away.

Not another sound or sensation you need.

“Pardon? S-sorry… sorry, I zoned out there.” You cringe at the pitches your voice just wavered through. Telepathic puberty, you’d joke, if you were capable of doing so right now.

“Yeah, you’ve kinda been doing that all day.” His gaze is soft, concerned; brows furrowed in a way that you’d normally joke would cause him wrinkles as a strike against his vanity. “You sure you’re alright?” he asks, in his recently usual tone of I’m-worrying-but-trying-to-sound-casual.

“Yeah yeah, sorry, I’m o-okay, sorry,” you stumble out more than speak.

You clench and unclench your tremoring hands. Then again. And again. Muscle memory, habit, a movement that used to help you focus. The shaking won’t stop, but sometimes it lessens.

“You keep saying sorry even though there’s nothing to apologise for.” A sad look from Ortega you’d normally have the bite to respond to that turns into a nervous one. “Repetition could be a sign of something going on in that brain of yours—I mean, more than usual.” A weak laugh. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The repetition. The stutter. The stammer. You hate that you can’t stop it—ease it, at least not right now: you’d always had some speech fluency issues when you were distressed, but you know this is different. You can feel it in the way your thoughts struggle to bubble to the surface. Neurogenic stuttering, you remember it called. From the brain injury. You had a far less obvious case of that when you’d first met Ortega thanks to the passage of time. A little parting gift from Vance on your way out of the Farm.

You shudder at the thought of her. The sound of mechanical whirring still makes you flinch sometimes.

“Sorry, y-yeah yeah—I’m totally… fine,” you say with what you hope is a reassuring tone, and as if on cue your nose begins to bleed, heavily.

“S-s-shit, sorry, shit,” you fumble, iron slipping in to fill your mouth as you raise your shaking arm to use your sleeve to halt the bleeding.

Before you can ruin your shirt however, Ortega swiftly snags you by the sleeve and slips a wad of tissues under your nose. Prepared. This has been happening a lot.

“You always do that.” A deeper frown. “Or at least you do that lately. Don’t ruin your clothes, please. Half of them are mine.”

“Uh… yeah, t-thanks. Yeah. Thanks.”

You wish you were capable of saying something more eloquent but your mind is blanker than the dead lands left behind by the nanovores. The ache of the constant migraine ebbs and flows but is ever present. Your shoulders ache with the tension you’ve been carrying in them, as if tightening your muscles would ease the sensitivity in your blood shot eyes or the banging in your head. When did this entire neighbourhood get so loud?

“Seriously, Kingsley, talk to me. I’m getting worried here. Don’t make me call my mother.”

No nickname. Threat of Tía. Serious.

“I...,” you look at him—more so his ear—with a sort of far off gaze, feeling everything slip away despite the immensity of every sensation right now, willing words to return to you. It’s like all your training went out the window and you’re trying to grab anything you can.

“I… I f-feel raw. I uh, I feel like e-e-everything’s open. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t turn anything on or off,” your voice cracks suddenly, “o-or even control the, the… the volume, it’s just... so… there.”

You’re not even fully cognisant of the word soup that just came out of your mouth.

“It’s b-been a week and a h-half. It sh-sh-sh…” you grit your teeth, forcing a hard breath, “it should stop soon.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

He didn’t mean it to be a low blow, it’s a question of concern. You know that, but it angers you still. Reflex to overlap the worry, the fear. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you don’t have doctors who can check you out, or that you have nothing else. Nothing else but this sad vigilante life you’ve fought tooth-and-nail to call yours. Without that?

You’re exactly what they said you are.

Nothing.

“It will,” you say forcefully, hands clenched, willing the words through in one piece. Willing them to be true with the same success as punching at fog. The power of the mind can be staggering, you proved that, but right now…

Right now yours is torn to shreds.

“I hope you’re right,” a sad, dark look from Ricardo. “I need you at my six.”

“I’ll b-be there.”

Ugh.

[peachyteabuck]

share our bed & eat at our table

summary: sudden behavioral changes in pets are always a reason to call the veterinarian, especially when they involve attacking other animals

pairing: maria hill x natasha romanoff x reader

words: 1374

trigger warnings: med fetish but...with a vet?, heavy pet play, gloves fetish, degradation, fingering (F receiving) 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

“I don’t know what happened,” Natasha sighs, gesturing to you. You just cower, staring at the floor and refusing to make eye contact with either of the women who stand above you “Everything was fine-“

The woman – Maria Hill, if the name embroidered on her long white coat next to a DVM is anything to by -  hmms, typing something into the tablet she had brought. “Following commands, eating at the right place?”

Natasha nods, face painted with concern. “Everything – she was sleeping great in the bed you recommended, playing with her toys and really well with the pets of friends…”

Maria continues hmm, nodding along while continuing to tap away at the glass screen. Her ponytail seems to bob along with her, dark hair kept out of her face as she looks between the tablet and your owner.

“Just, perfect,” Natasha looks down to you once more as she chews at her nailbeds. “Then one day Carol was over with Wanda and they were crated together and-“

“That’s when she bit Wanda?” Maria looks up from the tablet.

Natasha nods once more, brow still furrowed with concern. “Yeah.”

The woman doesn’t say anything back for a long while, just hits a button on the side of the expensive piece of equipment so the screen goes black. She places it in the large backpack she brought with her, full of toys and tools for discipline. “Well, any change in behavior is something we take quite seriously. I’ll do a basic physical exam and then we’ll move on from there, okay?”

Natasha makes a noise of understanding but says nothing in return. Instead, she finds a seat close to your crate, sitting back as she watches Maria pull something out of her bag – treats: small chocolate candies, individually wrapped. They’re your favorite, sure to keep you in check as the visit progresses.

Maria crouches by the hot pink crate you’re placed in, carefully opening the latch so she can stick her arm in. You’re cowered in the far back, arms curled around your folded knees with your chin tucked above them; dressed in plain, solid cotton panties in a matching tank top and, most importantly, your collar. It’s the one you wear for playdates – not as fancy as your best collar but not as simple as your day one - pink like your crate and most of your toys with a matte white nameplate, Natasha’s Pet scrawled in thin black script. You’d been wearing it for about a day now, when it placed on you a few hours before the incident that had gotten you here.

“Hey little thing,” she coos, trying to gain your trust. She’s got nothing in her hand despite the clear Ziploc bag next to her on the floor, so you don’t move a muscle.  “You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?”

You, still, remain inert, watching the woman with wide eyes and whole body tucked into itself.

Maria reaches her further in to pet your hair, rubbing her fingertips over your left eyebrow. “Good girl,” she mumbles before pulling back and turning to Natasha. “Let’s get her on the exam table, I can do the full physical exam there.”

Maria pulls away, allowing Natasha to invade your space and grab at you, lifting you up and out of the room. You fight her, because of course you do, nipping and biting and kicking as you’re strapped to Nat’s special table, arms and legs spread after you were stripped of what little clothes you were wearing. The collar, though, remains in place.

You yelp when the woman touches you with the cold, matte black disposable gloves she had put on while you were being manhandled by Natasha, spreading the lips of your pussy with deft fingers. With the cuffs on your wrists and ankles tied tight there’s not much you can do; can barely squirm, let alone kick. You are completely at the mercy of the two women standing above you.

Maria makes the same hmm noise as she did before, as if she’s thinking deeply about her next action. “She’s absolutely dripping,” she coos, still tracing featherlight touches around your entrance. You buck against her, desperate for anything more than what she’s giving you now but no, you get nothing – nothing until either of them says so.

And it’s become obvious neither of them is willing to do that just yet.

“Such a pretty glistening little pussy,” she continues, trailing her other hand up and down your body. “Do you like that, puppy?”

You look to your owner, hoping for direction. Suddenly, the bratty exterior you had hidden under had melted away and you were back to following all the many rules Natasha had put into place for you. Most notably, you were never to speak to someone without Natasha’s express permission.

“Go on, puppy,” she says, allowing you the power of speech. A small smile spreads across her face at your obedience. “Tell Ms. Maria how she makes you feel.”

You gulp, shift around a little in an fruitless attempt to move away from the woman’s skilled hands. “F-feels good.”

Maria smiles wider as she leans closer to your center, spreading your lips with gloved hands and leaving a wet kiss on the crest of your center. “Mhm, I’m sure it does, puppy.”

You fall apart under her hands easily, bucking your hips and straining against the binds to try and get closer to her. Nothing resembling words leave your mouth, just breathy moans and pleas for something that sounds like “more.”

“Ah,” Maria hums when she slips two gloved fingers into you. “There we go. Whose a good little girl for me, huh?”

You whimper out a “me, I’m a good girl” before throwing your head back against the uncomfortable pillow coated in the same ugly off-white plastic the exam table is.

“So, you’re sure nothing’s wrong?” Natasha asks, voice now devoid of all empathy or fear.

“Of course I am,” Maria says with a small, sinister smile. “She’s just a little slut. Let me prove it to you.”

Just as she finishes speaking, the woman presses a third finger into you and crooks them perfectly – making you cry out as she works them expertly inside of you.

“Shh,” the woman coos placing one hand on your stomach as she strokes that special spot inside of you that makes you cry out. “C’mon baby, why don’t you let go for the nice vet.”

You do as you’re told – orgasming with a scream, falling against the plastic covering of the chair which squeaks with your sweat and slick. As you pull at the restraints you pant, trying once more to break away and chase the feeling of pleasure Maria was so good at giving you. It doesn’t take long, though, before your futile attempts leave you fatigued, making you fall back against the table and stare at the ceiling as you waited for your vision to sharpen back to its normal state.

Across the room you can hear Maria pulling her gloves off and disposing them into the trashcan that Natasha uses for your used pee pads. The women talk amongst themselves as your eyelids flutter closed, lips barely able to form the word you’re desperately searching for.

“You think you fixed her?” Natasha asks, handing the other woman a bottle of hand disinfectant.

Maria gives a short laugh, sanitizing her hands as she speaks. “Oh, yeah. I mean,” she just her chin out to gesture towards you, still strapped to the table. “Look at her. She’s desperate and broken and I only gave her a single orgasm.”

You whimper at the mere mention of pleasure, dry mouth just approaching the ability to say “please,” in a coarse whisper. Natasha’s smiling as she steps into your eyeline, looming over you like a cliff over a river.

“Do you promise to be a good puppy from now on?” she asks, thumb tracing your trembling bottom lip.

“Y-yes, Master,” you gulp.

Natasha’s smile gets wider as she slips two fingers past your lips and you eagerly suck them – hoping she’s trying to get them ready for your desperate pussy. “Then the rest of the day should go very well for you.”

[parksvn]

my soul chose yours (and a soul just doesn't forget that)

guard!Jinyoung x assassin!reader x king!Jaebum

wc: 3.6k+

you’re about to get the upper hand on a mission when things go horribly wrong. Jinyoung is there to pick up the pieces, but Jaebum always gets to be the hero that swoops in to save the day.

a/n: this could become a series, but idk. if it does become a series, the next parts may end up being shorter depending on how the storyline progresses.

The ground is cold and hard, pebbles press against your cheek and your skin burns as blood hisses against the concrete beneath your body.

You’d laugh but your core felt like a searing knife had been left in it, pulsating forceful energy through your blood, curdling every area into sap. The pain was excruciating and sent angry sparks down your spine. 

Since your face was contorted in a wicked display of agony, you settled on a smirk and tried to roll away from the boot you knew was coming for your back.

You weren’t fast enough, of course, but it was worth a shot.

Your body swung to the other side and a groan escaped your lips as you huddled into a fetal position, attempting to protect your broken body from the next attack. It wouldn’t matter, you knew that much, but trying was better than just accepting death.

“I’ve asked you once and I’ll ask you again,” your assailant spat, words colliding harshly with your sore ears. “Where is his vault? Who’s assassins were sent after me?”

You scoffed. As if you would ever indulge him in such royal secrets. You were directly connected to the king, his weapon and blade, his bullet whenever he decided to pull the trigger, but to this man, you were just an advisor. Just as to everyone else concerned with your “dealings with the court.”

You knew he was following you for a while before he made his move, crashing his car into yours and dragging you into a conveniently waiting van before dumping you on the side of the road. Of course, he wanted to know all of the king’s secrets; this man was the king’s prime target. He’s stolen more than his fair share of gold and jewels from everyday citizens.

His death was already coming. As of right now, he’s just running from destiny. 

And who’s to say that destiny wasn’t already staring him in the face, in the form of your oh so frail and weak body laying so helplessly on the ground.

Please.

“Oh, Marcus,” You grinned, teeth gleaming like fangs against the moonlight, face bloody and dirty like a warrior emerging victorious from battle. “You already know.”

His ferocity dialed down a moment as he registered the calm now taking over your features, how the pain originally displayed suddenly vanished into vapor, how your performance changed like shadows of the moon.

Then he jumped feet away from you, scrambling to rectify his mistake. 

You’d be gracious, as gracious as you could muster at the moment with a split lip, bruised jaw, three broken ribs, a slash across the back, and a knife in the thigh. It’d take a saint to forgive all of that and you weren’t necessarily the saint type, but exceptions can be made.

If the king still wanted him alive then you would leave him still breathing at least. No promises on his continued condition of life.

You slipped a dagger from your shoe, your torso sore in the process. As the flat of the blade pressed against your palm, hidden from his frightened eyes, you laid on the ground and waited, waited for him to start the babble in which he would try to bargain for his life.

It started with a few pleases, a few apologies, him saying how much his life was worth in gold or jewelry or cars or houses, how he’ll become a changed man, on how he would return everything and never steal again.

At this point, you sighed, not necessarily from his boring speech—you’d tuned that out minutes ago—but from the exertion you knew was coming. Getting off the ground was going to be…painful. Blood still seeped out of that knife wound in your thigh and if you took it out the bleeding would become a waterfall.

And besides the very obvious piece of metal shooting out of your black pants, your face began to throb and taking breaths began to hurt more than it did a few minutes ago. The adrenaline was beginning to fade along with the endorphins that took the edge off the pain.

Getting to Marcus, hurting him, even fighting him, was going to cause a lot of discomfort. It was going to suck and that’s why, as much as you had no problem maiming him, you were reluctant to get off the ground.

You put your fist, knuckle down, onto the ground, keeping the hand with the blade positioned behind you. On your good knee, you braced your weight, struggling to stand while keeping your injured leg as straight as possible to avoid more tears.

Wetness bloomed near your eyes but you fought it, holding onto the spikes of stabbing suffering shooting through your body. It was a rock to hold on to and a great motivator as you made it to your feet, making sure your mouth stayed clamped shut. 

No whimpers, no pain, no fear.

Marcus backed up, taking more steps until he was fully pressed against his car. The van that had originally dumped you there was long gone. 

It was just you and him now. 

You let the dagger fly, hitting him in the exact same spot that your own injury occurred. He cried out as he hit the ground, his hands shaking around where the dagger stuck out from his leg. “If you think that’s bad,” you pulled another knife from the back of your pants, “you should see what a broken rib feels like.” 

He whimpered against the car, “please, please.” In all honesty, the second blade was just for show. You weren’t going to do anything with it and you had already lost interest in beating him senseless as you were getting off the ground. Anything you really wanted to do required too much movement for the injuries you sustained. Keeping your voice steady through the pain was already a challenge.

You gritted your teeth as you hobbled closer, your stomach pulsating pain and your leg felt like fire and stone, hot and heavy. 

You stopped a few steps in front of him and looked down. “You will be found. No one will come to save you because everyone who could is already gone. Run all you want, hide all you want, but the crown already knows every move you will ever make, and, just when you think you’ve found freedom, you will be thrown in a cage.”

He cowered away from you, tilting his head downward, tears slipping down his cheeks. Marcus was weak. You always knew that even when you tailed him. 

You threw the dagger into his car door, so hard it stuck into the metal, so near his head that it almost took off some of his hair. He cried out.

You didn’t wait to see what he might say. You simply turned around and hobbled away as best you could, walking down the highway until you could find a car that could take you far away from here and as close to the palace as you could get. 

Your breaths were beginning to become harsh, angry spits of air and pain that could be heard within a few feet. They weren’t quiet; people would begin to understand how hard you were fighting for your life. 

It became pretty obvious that if you didn’t find a doctor or somebody soon, you would collapse into nothing, a heap on the ground withering in pain and waiting for the crows to circle in. 

Your teeth ground together as your determination kicked in. 

You wouldn’t die out here. 

In hindsight, you could have taken the man’s car, but you wanted him to be terrified of freedom, to feel like as much as he felt in control, he was just as much out of it.

You wanted the feeling to linger. Pain is only a motivator till it fades away, but fear follows everyone everywhere. There’s no safety in fear.

You started to move, willing your leg forward, just a little bit further and further and further until you would find someone who’d be willing to help you. Then it would all be over. Then you could rest.

Then you could finally feel— 

You only heard an echo of a shot before you felt it rip through your stomach. 

You paused.

Then, you collapsed onto the ground. 

Your stomach started burning, a little fire crawling through your abdomen, beginning to radiate outwards. You didn’t have to put your hands near your stomach to know that there would be blood, that it would slowly seep through your clothing and onto the ground before you died. 

Your cheek felt cold again, just as it did when you were beaten to the ground earlier.

How fitting.

How simply fitting that this would be how it all ended, exactly like it began.

You weren’t sorry, remorseful, or bitter. You did things your way, you’d lived the life that you wanted to live. You wouldn’t change a thing.

You lay there, gasping a little when the blood seeped through your lungs and into your windpipe, as you tasted iron on your tongue while you bit your cheek to stop from screaming. Someone would find the shooter eventually, but you wouldn’t be there to see it. 

Shame.

You laughed as your vision began to blur and as the world slowly slipped away.

…

Jinyoung found you after about two minutes. 

To say that he froze would be an understatement. He was in complete shock. It took him about another thirty seconds to get out of the car and run to you, the medical response team was already underway, flipping you over, trying to get a look at the injuries and damage.

He was still stuck. 

You didn’t look right. Everything about this was wrong. He’d just seen you, a couple of hours ago, chatting up the ambassador of France, looking glowing, radiant even.

In fact, Jinyoung was having trouble keeping his eyes off of you all night. Then again, that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But to see you broken, unresponsive, bloody beyond all measure, that terrified him. His heart started beating again once he began to move and he only remembered to breathe after his throat began to burn.

But the burning intensified as he fought to keep everything at bay.

You knew this was going to happen, you’d phoned him telling him to start tracking your device, a small ring on your pinky finger, but he hadn’t realized that you were in this much trouble.

You’d never been this hurt, not in a million years. And as Jinyoung raced over to you, his anger began to rise along with an instinctive urge to never let you out of his sight again.

He dropped to his knees near your head, gently reaching out to cradle your neck in his hands, your hair fanning out over his thighs as he propped you up against him. He saw the swelling, the cuts, the scrapes on your cheek and then spared a glance to your body and saw silver emerging out of your clothes.

His anger rose, but also fear. He knew these injuries were serious and when he saw the vermillion color of blood staining your white shirt and dark-colored blazer, he wanted to cradle you closer, press his nose against your skin and transfer his energy to you.

He would accept losing you. Never.

“How bad?” He gritted through his teeth, trying to keep everything steady, everything locked in place. 

The nurse looked down, still trying to find the bullet with gloves and her tool. “Very bad.” She kept her tone neutral but he could see how hard she was fighting against her emotions too. You were always good to everyone you met and it made sense to see her upset. It made Jinyoung’s emotions magnify.

He swallowed the ball in his throat down, brushing the hair out of your face, taking a moment to be selfish with you. It was the only moment he allowed himself, before focusing back on the team. 

He took a sharp breath. They needed to move you, get you somewhere safe where real medical treatment could happen.

“I know what you want to ask, and the answer is shortly. We need to stop the bleeding and start a transfusion.” The nurse breathed out, the bullet caught between the metal of her tools. She turned and dropped it into a tray, exchanging the forceps for gauze. “Here.”

Jinyoung took the end of the gauze as she pulled and began to wrap it around your torso. “Mr. Park, would you lift, please?” She turned to her colleagues. “Moving.”

He grasped your shoulders, moving his palms to your back as pulled you upward, being as gentle as possible. Your face stopped near his chest, your nose pressed against his neck. 

He tried his best to ignore his desire to pull you even closer. 

The nurse began to wrap the gauze all around, pulling it taunt. You stirred, a moan escaping your mouth as your features contorted in discomfort. Jinyoung held you slightly tighter as he put a hand to your cheek. “(name)?”

You didn’t respond.

“(name)? We’re getting you somewhere safe. Just hold on, okay?” He only noticed how soft and pleading his voice was when the nurse turned to look at him with something like sympathy and understanding in her eyes.

She looked away and nodded. “We’re ready to move, Mr. Park.”

He nodded numbly as his hands held onto your shoulders. “Ready.”

The nurse began the count down and they picked you up, carrying you back to the car. 

He dimly remembers volunteering to sit with you in the back, too distracted with his fear of you slipping away before he gets to tell you everything. Your face is tilted up the sky and Jinyoung has his arm wrapped around your body, a hand stroking your hair as your head rests across his lap.

“Hold on,” He whispers. “Hold on.”

…

Jaebum shoved every bit of paper he could find off of his desk.

He was distraught. Fire coursed through his veins at the thought of someone hurting you, someone getting that close to killing you, and he couldn’t be there.

He couldn’t get to you, couldn’t protect you, couldn’t get anywhere close to saving you because of his damn meeting. And now you were barely holding onto life, being driven to the palace to be placed under intensive care.

He felt like a failure. He’d failed you. 

All because of his duty to the throne.

He crumpled to the floor, holding his head in his hands.

Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown.

…

“My king.” The servant bowed to Jaebum as he strode through the doors of the medical center, searching for you, needed to see you still breathing to calm himself down again. He’d tried to keep his pace steady but he didn’t care. It was you. It was you. “How may I be of service?”

“Where is Ambassador (last name)?” His eyes burned bright and he did his best to keep his emotions in check, a bit of irritation jumping out of his control.

The servant looked it up. “Room A5, I’ll escort you.”

Jaebum could only nod. He knew the escort wouldn’t be fast enough, but he agreed. It was better to appear as though everything was fine rather than alter the whole palace that something was amiss.

He tried to keep his breathing under control, his steps and gait contained to his normal stride. It was difficult and he fought every urge to sprint. Crescent-shaped imprints would linger on his palms.

“Here we are, your majesty.” He bowed before motioning him inside. 

It was chaos, absolute chaos. A flurry of bodies moved around and people were barking orders at each other. It took Jaebum several minutes before he found you and his knees nearly gave out at the sight of you.

You were attached to an oxygen tank, an IV, and a machine for blood transfer. Your face was maimed with cuts, swelling, injuries, and your clothes, your clothes. All of the blood. 

Jaebum almost ran over to you. Almost.

The only reason he didn’t was that there were too many witnesses, too many opportunities for gossip and rumors. He didn’t want that. Not for you, not right now.

He spotted his captain in the corner, eyes dead-looking, completely glazed over. Jaebum made his way over to his corner.

“Where?” He growled and Jinyoung took a moment to look up at his king before answering.

“Somewhere ten minutes from the mountains, along a twisted highway.” His voice sounded dead and his eyes were red. Jaebum studied him for a moment longer before watching you and your heartbeat. The rise and fall of your chest calming him down moment by moment. 

“Thank you.” Jaebum worked out without a hint of anger or sadness, just relief. 

Jinyoung’s eyes slid to his, alive with emotion for the first time since he walked into the room. His eyebrows scrunched with confusion. 

“For being there when I couldn’t.” Jinyoung’s gaze softened for a second before locking up, walls coming down. 

He could only nod before dissociating again. 

Jaebum sat there, standing by his friend, watching you fight for your life. 

A mantra, simple but heavy weighed on his mind, itching to shoot out to you.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

…

Your whole body hurt. The only that was safe to move without the desire to scream in pain was your neck as you assessed the state of your body.

It was quiet and the lights were dimmed. You took a breath, wincing. Those bruised ribs and bullet wound would make the next few weeks difficult, but you’d live to fight another day. 

You paused for a moment. How’d they find me? You thought back to the moment you’d fallen, trying to stretch into the future, waiting to find a few moments after. But there was nothing but black.

Sitting up was not an option in your condition, so you angled your neck to the side, opting to see something new, but someone was there.

You looked down, his face was pressed against your bed, his arms folded underneath his cheek.

You coughed lightly, hoping to gently stir them out of their sleep. When their eyes popped to yours, you knew immediately who it was.

You froze for a moment. “Your majesty.” You breathed.

“(name).” His eyes were just as wide as yours as he came out of his own slumber. “You’re awake. You’re okay.”

“Yeah.” You looked away from his direct stare, a jolt of heat jumping down your spine. “It takes a bit more than that to kill me.” You said it like you hadn’t considered your own death however long it was ago.

He looked sad. You were confused. Why was he even here in the first place. Did he have other duties to attend to than be here with you?

“I’m sorry.” He reached for your hand and held it within his own. Your breathing slowed down. “I failed you.”

“What do you mean?” You looked to find him hanging his head in sorrow, like a wounded puppy.

“I should have never have sent you there.” His eyes were on fire, rooting you into place, stopping your breathing so as not to stir the embers even more. “I never should have let you go by yourself.”

“We didn’t know. It’s okay.” You willed the fire to go away, hoping that your soothing tone would calm him down. “If I’d have known there were other operatives, I would have suggested another method. We made a mistake. It’s alright.”

He was quiet for several seconds. “You almost died. I almost lost you.” He brought your hand to his forehead. “I almost lost everything.”

Your free hand reached out to stroke his hair, your abdomen screaming at you. “I’m still here.”

Your heard his sniffles and your heart grew, a soft warmth moved through your chest. “Come here.” He looked to you with his bloodshot eyes and began moving, slipping off his boots, and slowly arranging himself on the bed next to you, placing his head atop yours, pulling you into him.

“Never again.” His voice was low and steady like he was speaking a vow that could never be broken.

You smirk, resting his chest against his beating heart, calming yourself down as you drifted off to sleep.

…

Jinyoung felt like he was stabbed through his chest.

He saw you two together. The king and his dagger. How perfect you fit together, how protectively he held you.

Maybe you liked the power, maybe there was a bond you two shared, but Jinyoung couldn’t help but believe that should have been him. It should have been you and him.

You both knew what it was like to be fashioned by steel, a weapon at someone else’s disposal. You’d confided in each other, trusted each other.

But you chose him and Jaebum knew it too. That’s why he hovered, always watching, always making sure you never got too close to him.

Always in the way.

His heart shattered, even more, when he saw the look of bliss as your face was buried into Jaebum’s chest, right near his neck, right where you were propped against him not six hours ago.

If only he’d waited in your room longer, if only he hadn’t traded with the king. Maybe, just maybe….

Jinyoung turned around and stalked away, too tired to pour over what-ifs, too tired to really care. If you wanted to fall for the king, who was he to stop you? 

He just wouldn’t watch you fall in love with someone that wasn’t him.

[purplerose244]

I don’t care

Hi!! This is my fic for the @ninjago-valentine-exchange!! Thank you so much for organizing this, I really had fun writing this! 🥰

Special thank also to @nightlybirdie for the lovely fanart I got to respond to! It’s such an adorable little comic! 😍  I thought making a songfic about the same song you choose would have been fitting, since it really is very Lava like ❤🖤❤🖤

Here we go! Enjoy!! 😊

Summary: It's just another celebration party after all, Cole should be used to feeling left out.

Turns out, someone is very not okay with that.

Also on the AO3

We’re at a party we don’t wanna be at

Trying to talk but we can’t hear ourselves

Red your lips I’d rather kiss ‘em right back

With all these people all around I’m crippled with anxiety

 It wasn’t that Cole hated parties.

Although it wasn’t that he loved them either.

“… so thank you again, ninja!” Tipping his hat, the police commissioner finally finished his speech, one that after such a long time spent with them fighting crime and evil beings – like ten years or something? – was starting to sound vaguely repetitive. “Now, without further ado, let us begin this celebration party! To honor our saviors!” The crowd cheered, all the police members bowed at them, and it was finally time to forget about the danger and relax.

… right.

Alright, the black ninja wasn’t a party-pooper – he wasn’t never going to give Jay that satisfaction. There were of course great pros about being here after all, starting from the fact that the very reason there was such a big event in the first place was because they had saved the city once again – he needed to remind Lloyd to bring the sign ‘days Ninjago City wasn’t attacked’ back to zero. This was a celebration in their honor, a thank you for their determination and commitment and for keeping their world safe every time. He could see familiar faces into the crowd, having fun, enjoying the peace that once again so difficulty they had managed to regain.

The music was nice. Nowhere near his usual choice, and he knew he was going to grab his headphones and blast soft rock at full volume as soon as they were back at the monastery, but nice nonetheless – relaxing too… oh… oh, no, no dozing off. His friends were all there, dancing, talking, perfectly in tune with the festive atmosphere.

Oh, there was also a buffet, that was nice. It was also an extremely generous one, with tarts, sandwiches, shrimps and so on, one that could make even Zane’s nindroid mouth water. The black ninja himself had finished his recognition at the table, even though he had ended up with a glass of whatever while standing on the side of the ballroom. All he knew was that it was sparkling and slightly bitter. Not really his taste.

Nothing felt like his taste right now… but that went beyond his beverage choice.

He tried to widen his collar, for the fifth time in the last hour. He should’ve known better than borrowing a suit from his father, besides their obvious different sizes. Even beyond the blatant reality that being the master of earth pulled out muscles that a dancer just didn’t have, it was the most irritating reminder of the time he had spent trying to meet his pa’s expectations by joining a quartet. It had been a while since that matter had been solved, there was no point into sulking over it. There were more important matters ahead.

His finger went to his collar. Sixth time. Great.

Was he the only one holding on instead of having fun? Again?

One impressively loud laugh shook his from his thoughts, and he didn’t have to look to recognize Jay, near their latest used-to-be-enemy-but-now-they’re-our-pal. Great, someone must have asked what happened during their adventure, there was no way Motor Mouth would have missed the opportunity to vent – as long as his obnoxiously talkative nature didn’t bring their new friend back to the evil path. Right next Zane was showing off his dancing skills, that familiar endearing view that probably involved his famous funny switch. Or not, that nindroid was lovable no matter what after all. From the resigned but fond smirk of Pixal, leaning against the wall not far while watching the robot making a spectacle of himself, he wasn’t the only one thinking that.

Lloyd had been kidnapped by a few reporters of the NGTV, although despite the awkward atmosphere he looked like he could handle himself – which wasn’t new, man that kid was indestructible. And even though he was confident that Nya was not the biggest fan of formal clothes just like himself, like the pro she was she knew exactly how to deal both with her dress and the people crowding around her. Besides, she deserved a bit of spotlight.

His friends were having fun, that made the master of earth happy unconditionally. Although he would have liked to share that light-heartedness, or simply being willing to let himself go for once. Well, they were doing fine, he could end this and finally go home by himse-

Wait. No. Something wasn’t right.

Where was that? Where was the crowd of people getting consistently louder and more insistent the closest they got to their red hero? Where was the never-ending flirty attitude that was almost a main characteristic of the master of fire? Where was the improvised meeting of the Kai fan club happening every single time they ended an adventure, like these screaming admirers had been silently waiting for the end to end just to see their diva?

A shiver caught him. Surprise? Confusion? Relief? Cole wasn’t quite sure, he just knew that there was no massive amount of chocolate hair nowhere in the ballroom. A pinch in his chest made his back straighten up. He took the slightest sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste.

Then, someone shouldered him. Wow, silent as a ninja. Then again, it wasn’t hard at this point recognizing his teammates without looking.

Especially someone as warm as him.

“Apologies my good sir, but it looks like we’re in quite the predicament over here.” Yep, he could see Kai’s smirk in the corner of his vision, moving up his mouth with that little dimple on the corner. “This is very clearly a party-fever, non-sulking area. You better correct your behavior, or I will be forced to take drastic measures.” Kai stuck out his tongue as he cracked his knuckles, despite himself Cole couldn’t help half a laugh.

Only half, because this guy could be very irritating when trying to push his reasons on others – the cow yak predicament between him and Jay was never going to be forgotten and was actually brought up again every once in a while. Only half… because there was something mesmerizing at seeing the reckless master of fire getting cleaned up in a classy and refined suit. White immaculate shirt. Perfectly stirred jacket. That little red bow over his neck, because if this guy didn’t like to show off that red was his color on every occasion then the Overlord was a good guy.

You could say a lot about the red ninja, really a lot.

Not having style? Not between that – of course his ego didn’t need to know this.

The black ninja huffed, catching himself before he let his eyes lingering on him for too long – thank you master Wu, poor unaware sensei probably didn’t know his meditation lesson were being used to hide a crush.

“Drastic measures as kick me out? Because first, I would like to see you try.” Kai was strong, but not earth strong, thank you very much. “And second, I can leave on my own, thank you.”

Another shoulder. Much quicker than the other.

“Nah huh, this is also a very restricted non-ditching area.” Now he was cornered. Which wasn’t much because it was only Kai and his mischievous look. Also it was Kai and his mischievous look. “You either have fun and enjoy yourself, or security will escort you to prison in a conga line.”

“Really?” The hothead dared to shrug, like this made-up nonsense was a fact and these ‘laws’ were beyond him. “You don’t have to be a bringer of justice here too, just leave me be a solitary public figure for five more minutes before leaving.” A little frown moved his scarred eyebrows, which looked a little too knowing for some reason. “Besides, don’t you have a fan club to return to? I’m not seeing brown wigs twice your head moving around, that’s worrying.” A third shove, this time the black ninja let out a proper laugh. The red ninja’s hair only got crazier and crazier since they met, and it was always funny.

Endearing, too… dang it feelings!

The master of fire crossed his arms over his chest, pouting yet smiling.

“I can have a party without getting assaulted by my fans, you know? Besides, it’s been a while since we had a proper celebration, I wanna be with my team for once.” It was surprising and also very not. Kai was that much of an egomaniac, he loved the attention; but he loved his family even more, and it was true that they didn’t get much time to enjoy simply be united – trying to survive a villain while experiencing discoveries and development didn’t count as a relaxing bonding experience.

Cole gave a look at the crowd. The others were all still there.

“I’ll give you that, should we call up the others then?”

“No no no, you don’t get out of the radar that easily!” Again with the grin, what was that dangerously pretty head of his plotting? He looked focused too, it was scary. “Cut loose, will ya? You always end up in the corner at these things, you could at least pretend like you wanna be here.”

The black ninja winced.

“Gosh, you sound like my dad.” He definitely didn’t want to think about his dad in front of his crush. “We’re not all social butterflies, okay? I’m fine being myself.”

“Oh that’s not it, you’re okay. You being you is amazing.” Was that flirtatious? Was that a random compliment? Dang it, Cole had known him for too long, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore! “But whenever we get to an event like this one you always look like you would rather go back fighting and it sucks. Not being much of a party person is fine, I just want you to have some fun that’s all.” Ah. There it was. Underneath the mocking, the arrogance and the flirts, was a guy that could fire up a group of ninja with the power alone of his blatantly sincere words. Being against the next reason Ninjago City needed to be rebuilt, or while trying to give a random party some meaning. “Besides, speaking of fans, I know you have some. You could improvise a convention too.” He gestured towards him with both hands, like he was presenting him for a talk show.

The master of earth grinned. His chest felt warm, as always. Curse this guy for being cute. Curse him for being here instead of somewhere else wowing some random guest, blessing him with his company. He was right about not being together enough. Cole did miss having peaceful times with his teammate… he had missed spending time with Kai.

 But I’m told it’s where I’m supposed to be

You know what?

It’s kinda crazy coz I really don’t mind

When you make it better like that

 He took another sip. Grimacing. He shook his head.

“My fan club is nowhere near as wide as yours.”

“It’s not a challenge you know… although if it was, we all know who would win…” The red ninja flexed his arm. The jacket moved accordingly, showing off results of a training that even without involving massive rocks looked still impressive.

Cole swallowed over a sudden dry throat, only to frown.

“Huh… Lloyd?”

Kai blinked and sulked down altogether.

“Lloyd indeed.” They looked at each other and laughed.

The previous song slowly faded, a new rhythm took over. To Cole’s relief, it was something less ballet-like and more vivacious, capturing a few couple and individuals into the ballroom to enjoy the music. Jay was showing off impressive dancing skills, although him coming out of nowhere with a new ability wasn’t unheard of – roller skating, skiing, how did he even have free time to learn where he would always invent and eat junk food? Nya wasn’t too far behind, crossing path with Zane and improvising something together, laughing all the way. Lloyd was about to shake his head with a snicker and step away, only to have Pixal push him in with a little grin.

It was so peaceful. Them having fun, enjoying themselves, doing something other than risking their own lives and protect the land. They were the moments the black ninja loved the most.

Kai was humming himself, smiling just as widely. Cole chuckled warmly.

“You look like a very proud father.”

The red ninja arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“Wouldn’t you like that, honey.” Oh dang it, was he for real?! Was that a flirt?! Was that a little blush or for the master of fire having red over him was as natural as igniting flames?? Was he going somewhere with this, help, abort, something, anything! “We should chime in and join Zane and Jay, make a reprise of the Blade Cup Tournament! I remember the choreography still, bet we could show it to Nya, Lloyd and Pixal too.” Alright, never mind, false alarm… possibly, again, it was confusing.

Cole took another sip. It possibly tasted worse at every try, he didn’t even know why he was holding the glass still. At least he looked refined… or something.

“No way, I’m not going through that again.”

“Oh come on, I thought you got over your dancing complex with the Triple Tiger Sashay.” Kai shrugged, looking at him right into the eyes. “You dance good too, it’s a waste.” Was he in vain of compliments today or he was silently mocking him through an elaborated plan?

… nah, he wasn’t one to make complicated plans. He was a pretty face, and an airhead.

Cole shrugged.

“I don’t mind dancing, not as much as I used to at least. I even like it nowadays.” Having a hobby besides saving Ninjago was kind of important to not completely lose it – and playing videogames became a little too competitive once Jay or Lloyd got in the zone. “But it’s a little too connected to what my dad used to expect me to be and sometimes I don’t wanna even brush that thought.” They were good now, of course they were. But they spent time apart because of it. It was still hard to think about it. “… I don’t like to think that it would’ve been easier to just bear and go on. It makes me wonder what I would have become in that case, through tedious dancing lessons and failures.” Wow, his insecurities were put under a test, and there was no menace in sight for once.

Urgh, nope, not tonight, not after the mess they had been forced to fix for their city. Tonight it was about feeling light, thoughtless and happy. He needed a joke, a mockery, something, and while their official jokester wasn’t available Kai was the next best thing.

Any moment now… any moment now…

… okay now he was deliberately teasing him with those pretty eyes of his. He looked even sappy now, their shoulders were touching. He was so warm.

“It’s… kind of a scary thought, you know. Thinking of a you in a reality in which we haven’t met.” He smiled, one enigmatic, slightly worried smile that Cole couldn’t remember to have seen before. “But master Wu would’ve found you anyway, right? I don’t want to think of a world where we don’t know each other.” Because he was a precious teammate of his. “That’s not right in my head, I kinda hate it really.” Because they were too close as friends to even conceive it. “I’m just happy to have the strong, kind, incredible Cole by my side for this life.” Because he… cared. Because Kai cared about all the people in his life, all the precious members of his family.

That included him. As a… as…

The master of fire was staring at him, lips pressed tight together, burning cheeks and glimmering eyes. His face radiated heat, beyond the temperature itself; it was like an image so hot it got blurry, yet the beauty of it was nitid and flawless.

Cole was mesmerized. Then he slowly took a step back from his condition, finding the energic music fading away around them, and the red ninja still froze with his eyes on him.

It made him smile.

Having his attention always made him smile.

“Oh my gosh, it’s Kai!!” Because it wasn’t for granted and it wasn’t as easy as it was, back when they had started their legend as the ninja team. Now they were celebrities, and having a group of fans jumping excitedly in front of the brunette was ordinary administration. “Kai! You’re so cool, thank you for saving us again! You are our favorite ninja, can we get a picture? And a photo? Possibly both, if you can!” There were a couple of girls, one guy and a kid jumping from one foot to the other. All looking at ease and confident with their dresses and manners, addressing one of the heroes of this island.

Huh. The party had started to get nicer a few minutes ago, now it was back at being dull. Awkward. Uneasy. Solitary. Once again the too tight suit became very vivid, especially around his arms and chest. Once again the music, that had gone back at being slow and classic, got at his nerves. Once again he was being a spectator, looking at the scene like it was airing on television.

Kai was smiling naturally, he was more than used at that kind of attention. But his eyes were quick at focusing on him, and another little frown moved his forehead.

“Thanks for the support guys, but I’m a little busy right now…”

Cole rolled his eyes. He hated pity, so much. It felt like a slap right now.

“No you’re not idiot, come on, show your fans some respect. They get to see you without the city falling apart for a change!” The group nodded eagerly, eyes brightening the room. The red ninja wasn’t looking at them, his eyes were fixed on his teammate and it was even more irritating. “I’ll be at the buffet if you need me, have fun.” He looked hurt. What right did he have to get hurt? From what even? The master of earth was the one casted aside, for a change!

He walked away from the scene, losing Kai’s voice between excited shouts and squeaks from the group. Like that was new, it was always the serious, uncharismatic, downer of the team the one getting less recognition. He had known that when he had met this band of crazy people that he had started to call family. He had known that when Lloyd had taken charge and lead them towards one victory after the other. He had known that when Nya had been called into action, showing off once and for all that she was the real deal. There was always someone before him, brighter, to capture the attention. Being a robot, being an inventor, being the most handsome guy in existence…

… and it was fine.

Cole wasn’t stupid not unrealistic. He knew who he was, he knew his skills and his pros. He knew there were many people cheering for him too, he knew that Ninjago City loved him. Having less focus didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his best to give back that support. But moments like these made him feel like it was unfairly easy to be pushed away in favor of something better. This really wasn’t what he was used to. The party, the attention… him.

It wasn’t about the attention after all. It was about feeling inadequate. Unlike others, he wasn’t born for the attention. Others were ready to burn to catch everyone’s eyes through their beauty. Cole only wished the difference wasn’t always this upsetting.

The guests were walking around him as he passed through. He didn’t actually want to go back to the table, he had simply said the first thing that had come to his mind – with that one girl so close to Kai thinking had been very difficult. Then the police commissioner had called the attention upon the impressive cake that was being brought in by a carrier. Shaped like the monastery, with their faces on the base. Wasn’t he the absolute dessert lover that he was, he might have found the cake too cute to even attempt a bite. Then again he really was, which was no secret at all. The chief of the police department was more than happy to give him the first slice.

White chocolate and blueberries. He hated himself for being so irritated, he would have wanted to enjoy his cake without bothering images into his head. He knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. Whenever there was a party, his mind just liked to remind him how uncomfortable he felt. It was only a matter of waiting for it to be over. Then he could share a bag of candies with Lloyd, or pull some weights with Nya, or meditate with Zane, or train with Pixal, or destroy Jay at videogame. Or do anything, absolutely everything, that involved spending time with Kai.

Just for the sake of having him near… ah, dang it, feelings again!

He swallowed a bit harshly, all of the sudden he couldn’t have more. The slice was half eaten – yeah he liked to have that big of a first bite –, and even after spending the night munching over those little snacks that couldn’t contain more than one or two calories each. He felt full. He couldn’t even enjoy his dessert now, might as well leave before anyone noticed him. He had planned on leaving much earlier so it wasn’t a problem.

Cole looked down at that forsaken drink, arching an eyebrow. Maybe it was good with sweets? Maybe that was what made it good? He drank, grimaced and grunted. He moved to put the drink on the table once and for all.

A quick ninja hand snatched the glass. A second later it was emptied.

“Finally, you were driving me crazy with this thing!” Kai, smiley and innocent, almost knocked down another glass as he let the empty one fall over the table. “All night sipping and hating!”

The black ninja’s mind was empty. From nothingness, only one doubt emerged.

“… you’ve been watching me?”

 Don’t think we fit in at this party

Everyone’s got so much to say

When we walked in I said “I’m sorry”

But now I think that we should stay

 That wasn’t probably the question to ask, no matter how much the master of earth was stubborn over the idea that nothing was a big deal at the moment. Something like ‘what are you doing here’ would have sounded out of place though, and teasing directly about what happened to his fan club didn’t sound better. Besides, the handsome master of fire finished his drink putting those perfect lips right where Cole’s had been just a second ago, and the black ninja’s strategic leader brain that had many times got him out of a bad situation wasn’t working.

Or maybe it was? There were very few things that could really, actively melt his heart like this. The red ninja’s blush was one of them. It had to have something to do with his element, the reddening was absolute and total. Like watching a thermometer reaching the maximum.

“J-Just a little! One or two times!” Liar, Cole had been doing this sip and regret thing all evening. The thought alone was an injection of giddiness. “Not up for cake? That’s new.”

Oh. He felt a little more in vain for cake. Two bites later it was done.

“I was taking a breath.” It was easier with him around. Did he know that? “You’re done with the fans? That was quick.” Kai huffed with superiority, but the black ninja was no fool: he could see the girl from before sighing a little, like she didn’t get nearly as much red ninja as she had been expecting. “You didn’t have to leave them behind for me.” That came out exactly as badly as he thought it. Why did he say it anyway? Why was the master of fire this shocked and fearful? “Kai I’m not some special case that you have to take care of, you know that. You don’t have to hang around me just because.” Huh. It came out like that.

Huh. Kai looked one with his element, burning from his forehead to his neck, looking almost sunburned. Adorable. So adorable, even while Cole was waiting for whatever was going to come from this situation. Which was, beyond his expectations, the red ninja’s rough and long hand slowly reaching for his, holding it tight.

Warm, so warm, so unfairly warm.

“I… I hang out with you because I want to. I want you to have fun because I…” He swallowed, hardly, and it felt like a light was switched on in the black ninja’s mind. “… I like when you have fun. When you s-smile, too.” It was so different from the usual flirty attitude that this guy used. It would have sounded like a mockery to any other. “I like being where you are too, that’s all I need… I-I mean it!” But Cole knew this guy, he knew him too well not to know that flirting was a show.

This awkward, embarrassed, red gorgeous person was the real deal. One that came out only when the time was right, and the person was right.

Cole was right. He was… right?

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He really didn’t and it was the worst possible answer. But it was true. What did you say to someone you harbored feelings for that showed interest back towards you? Thanks? Same here? I love you?? It was true but it was out and everything felt unnecessary and uneasy again.

The hold tightened. Kai was still blushing, but he was smiling with that special energy into his eyes. The one that usually meant a very bad plan coming, or one heck of an idea.

“No need. Just come with me.” Not like he could resist him right now.

Right on cue the music had changed, slowing down. The master of earth had a suspicion the one holding his hand was behind this – not like bribing Dareth currently at the console was particularly hard, especially with a couple of Puffy Potstickers in hand. Then again, the one holding his hand was this handsome fella that was leading him towards the center of the ballroom, between fanciful people and a couple of eyes in awe at seeing their heroes there. It was easier to ignore the comparison, the feeling of inferiority, while feeling Kai’s fingers clenching around his palm, shaking firmly. It was cute. So very cute. Cole could barely see in front of himself between all these people, yet it felt like nothing was really shouldering him as he passed through.

There were lights above them. Were they always there? Cole didn’t notice before, which was silly since it was all dark outside. His head was lighter, he didn’t have control over his strength even if he had wanted to break free from that hold. He didn’t. Not when the red ninja had that familiar determination making his entire body tense. Not while he turned around, smirking.

Still blushing. Still holding his hand. The master of earth looked down. Two pairs of feet staring at each other. Memories of the dance lessons came flooding back.

He looked up. Those glimmering embers made it much better.

“You brought me here to dance?”

“Impeccable deduction, Rocky.”

“Do you even know how? Dancing in couple is not the same as in a group, and we both know you have awful balance.” It was the only thing that made him regret throwing the battle against Jay back at the tournament of elements: losing the possibility of seeing this klutz making a fool of himself on roller skates. Confident Kai? Goofy and charming. Energic Kai? Attractive and brave. Angry Kai? Literally hot. But man, clumsy, adorably unsteady Kai? A wholesome force strong enough to break every single mountain he had ever climbed in his life.

The master of fire huffed with superiority, which was already promising. Around them a few couples were getting together, slowly moving with the rhythm.

“Please, I defeat evil lurking behind our backs on regular basis. I can handle a dance.” His eyes went down on his feet, while he unsurely grabbed his other hand. “You just gotta work with me, first you move the left… right… no left, left!” Left went right over his partner’s foot, and it was gone right away ironically almost as it got burned. “D-Don’t laugh, I got this!” Screw everything, the master of earth was very glad Ninjago had been in peril just to arrive at this specific moment.

Ah, but he was the responsible one, wasn’t he? Snickering right in front of the brunette’s face while he was doing his dang best at not stomping onto his feet would have not been very mature.

… continuously at least, he could take one giggle.

No one could call one giggle immature. Or two.

“I can hear my father’s pleas from here.”

“Shut up, I’m getting there! Right foot, sorry, then left…” Wow, it was almost impressive considering Cole had managed to see him before almost gracefully practicing spinjitzu with them. Then again, it was so like him it hurt. “There there’s the… huh… casket?” Oh dear, he meant the casque? Yep, definitely good pa wasn’t here. The black ninja almost blacked out he was laughing so much – pun not intended –, wiping away a single tear. Then he looked up, embers were staring. So focused and bright they were too much to look at. Kai grinned. “At least your smile is back.” The softest curve ever.

It was impossible not to look at it. It was baffling how many people were attracted to the master of fire solely for appearance and superficial charm. Yet this part, this tender side of him was the most lovely part. The most hidden too, reserved only to those who got close enough to the fire to get burned, without regretting a single moment.

Cole giggled again, stepping forward. Automatically he took charge, assuming the position that had been sculptured into his mind by years of dance lessons. Kai’s hand was still shaking as he took it, his eyes were trembling too. It made the black ninja smile more.

“It’s easy to smile when I’m with you.” Another incredible thing about this guy, it made all the people around him more confident. Stronger. Him included.

Kai gaped. He stuttered, looking down, up, at him and not.

Then he sighed, whining weakly.

��I was trying to properly confess, Boulder Brain.” It would have been such a shameless, anticlimactic moment for anyone. Gosh if it hadn’t dissolved all the anxious anticipation the black ninja had. “Why did you have to one up me right now?” Maybe it wasn’t only Kai that made him feel this at ease, maybe it wasn’t only them knowing each other so well. Maybe there really was one and only, for life, and the master of earth knew it by instinct.

A pretty good instinct too.

Cole grinned, stepping closer because dang if this didn’t feel immensely good.

“Force of habit, you’re just that slow.” Dang if this easiness between them wasn’t the most comfortable feeling he had ever felt. “You should really put your mind into training a little more, prove that you can keep up with me, Fireball.”

Music was changing, people were moving, the party was continuing and neither of them was looking anymore. Who cared anyway? What was important right now?

Warmth was.

Kai’s hand on his cheek was. Kai’s softened eyes on him were.

“I can do that. You know I never quit in front of a challenge.” One blink of an eye later, their noses were brushing. Another blink, their breaths were caressing each other’s lips. One last, the master of fire turned that kind of serious. The one that put everything on the table, because he considered a moment that important. “… I hate when you ditch a party.” Cole held together a little gulp. “And it’s not about you not being a party person, or wanting you to have fun, or even for you to get the credit you deserve. It is in part, but it’s not all.” He smiled, his thumb tracing gently his cheek, so very careful with him. Him, the lifter of their team. Him, the mighty master of earth. Him, the one that could manifest an earthquake with a punch. “It’s just that I miss you every time. You make everything better for me… I want to be with you as much as I can.”

It was never about that after all. It was never about who he was or what he represented, for either of them. It was just about two guys, two friends that had been lucky enough to get closer to each other reciprocally. In comparison to this, everything felt so meaningless.

The room was empty, the music was gone. It was just them.

Cole closed his eyes.

“You could convince me that parties are cool, you know. Then I won’t ditch anymore.” His closeness, his heat, his presence. The black ninja wanted to take in everything about this moment and never letting go. “I feel like I’m on the right path right now…” Wow, they weren’t even together yet and his flirty tendencies were already rubbing on him. Was he really that gone already for not minding it one bit?

Ah, who cared, Kai was so close he could hear him swallow. His thumb was still shivering, and it made his heart flutter. Then he laughed, low and sincere.

“Let’s see if I can be convincing.” He whispered.

Kissing the red ninja was exactly how he had imagined. It was warm, a little clumsy, so very sincere and vigorous. It reflected how he moved, how he acted, how he fought, how he protected. Yet it was nothing like he thought. It was so sweet it made his eyes pinch, it was delicate and even a little uncertain. It was him on the inside, the him that didn’t always want to make an impression, the him that had so much love to give to his most precious ones. It was him. In every possible way, it was him.

Cole smiled, kissing back, holding onto him as he was held back.

He liked parties. And he loved Kai.

 ‘Cause I don’t care when I’m with my baby, yeah

All the bad things disappear

And you’re making me feel like maybe I am somebody

I can deal with the bad nights

When I’m with my baby

[frogtanii]

It do be wind anon. Taking a break from correcting tests (I am suffering) and reading PF

Anyway, let’s just get into the reaction. Iwaizumi’s itinerary has become useless. Meiko has rejected the idea! Such a shame.... and honestly, every where I see in her group, they say “she deserves it” for things that are good, but honestly the guys deserve their time too and it would be a shame to not spend time for yourself.

They are breaking backs trying to accommodate for Meiko and I am upset because she’s not even in an actual relationship with any of them. But she is so blatant and honestly, while she did everything to flaunt her ‘superiority’ to YN, she is really making it hard for them to like her as much as they used to.

Besides her very obvious “meeting with a guy that none of you know while pushing all the work onto you all” I actually want to specifically mention the number and size of the suitcases she had. Like seriously, during their dinner she was underdressed and started drinking a serious amount of alcohol because she has no coherent logic to her actions. She was underdressed. What the flip were all the suitcases for then. It’s not like she would buy suitcases while they are there right. What would she bring back, sand??? And if she ended up actually shopping... what a flipping hypocrite. My gosh, I mean, if you were going to do it, just do it with Oikawa.

Honestly, if the guy that she is referring to here is the same guy as the one mentioned previously (who may or may not be Suna), I am intrigued. Because if it is Suna, he has the core strength to German suplex her or whatever the move is called. I am getting increasingly more violent the longer I think about Meiko it seems... but yes. Cue fatality.

But back to the suitcases. It’s...a weekend right? 2 days there. Why would you need more than one suitcase? And honestly, you only really need a backpack right? Like... 2 changes of comfy clothes. One somewhat fancy. (I mean, Iwaizumi was very focused on his itinerary so he should have informed them that they would be going to a more upscale restaurant so they would be prepared...) a coat for night when it gets cold. I don’t think you’d need to bring food and stuff. Like... why would she need that much. Is one of her suitcases just makeup. Like an entire pile of hecking makeup. I would be so disappointed in her.

Suga is sitting with us, Suga is sitting with us!~ I’m quite happy about this clearly. I would love for him to join in on the sing-alongs. It’s a bit later so chances are less upbeat playlist...slightly more dark—slow+reverb style haha. But y’know they could be singing Disney songs the entire way. That would be fun. Like “under the sea”.

I think I’ve been going out of order hmm. Anyway, I like how Meiko just pushed all her suitcases onto Akaashi to deal with. I mean...she likes Iwaizumi for his arms. You mentioned it before in an ask reply. So why not him? And honestly...Daichi and Osamu are also more buff than Akaashi? Akaashi is pretty but his limbs aren’t suited for pure strength. Though...if it’s Meiko’s suitcases, she should be able to move her own so maybe it’s not that heavy, just really bulky? I dunno—

In any case! I am looking forward to Akaashi interactions... I think Bokuto and Akaashi would really benefit from a heart to heart without Meiko’s interference. Like, Akaashi has been so...smothered by her. Bokuto is not a good liar. He may be naive, but he speaks the truth as he knows it and he tries to seem optimistic. But the fact of the matter is he has a decent intuition. And he’s definitely learning and understanding himself more thanks to the therapist. (I still don’t remember their name fully... Dr.Otsusaka? Dr. Otsusuka? It was Otsu-something right?)

Akaashi has definitely become more timid and ragged thanks to Meiko. I mean, he was indeed mean to YN before but it’s again, not fair for Akaashi to have to deal with this.

Meiko is toxic. The others became toxic towards YN after Meiko started her ministrations. We do not excuse what they have done to YN, but the root of the matter (the root of all evil...) is Meiko.

We can be upset as we can see the full matter as a third party. We are upset that the guys fell so willingly for such a terrible person. We are upset at their bias. We are upset that they are blind and unable to see the bigger picture. We are upset that they are victims too and that they haven’t yet realized how much they have changed due to Meiko.

We can condemn their actions...but in the end, they are people who have been horribly misguided, and because of that, I am willing to see them all try and get better.

The first step is gaining mutual understanding, and that only happens when people can interact with each other.

Bokuto and Akaashi are equals. They have spent time together. They have a past history. You know the people you have spent time with. You see their good points a lot.

Actually, considering Omi and Akaashi have similar natures, I thought they could talk it out first. But I’m super happy to see the Bokuto+Akaashi dynamic.

I hope that they become close again. Animosity is terrible when it comes in between friends.

I’ve gone on quite the speech, haven’t I? In any case, might try to end on some lighter thoughts.

Imagine the boys in black leather lace-up boots. Just...them.

Okay, I’ll end it here. The update was very well-written as always. Take care of yourself and rest up! We may be very blatant with our YN Supremacy banners, but we are all fans of you. Much hugs to you fr0ggy <3<3<3

wowie this is so nice to read!! you’ve written a lot this time n i always enjoy going through it hehe <3 m not sure what to address specifically cs my brain is a cup of pudding atm BUT i will v much imagine the boys in lace up black boots,, 100000/10

[wormstacheangel]

Day 3: Demonic

Word Count: 1888

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

---

Rowena had someone coming for her crown and while the Winchesters aren’t for hire, having his Aunty Rowena on the throne has been a big help. They didn’t close the gates of hell or heaven but instead run them. Jack and Cas upstairs while Rowena ran hell with a little help from Sam. Dean was mostly on call from whoever needed him. Also, Sam likes to point out that Purgatory was all his for the taking according to the rumors.

Right now though Rowena needed him to find the demon making a secret army to overtake the crown. Simple enough that he said he’ll do it himself. It was just one demon and his dumb army. He just fought God and won, he’s surprised they’re any monsters still willing to pick a fight with them.

The thing was that nobody said this damn demon was going to be so annoying.

“Buddy, I know you got those kamikaze bombers going for the Queen so you might as well call them off,” Dean says as he leans against the desk in their dungeon with the demon trapped in the, well the damn demon trap. 

The demon hasn’t said a damn word since he brought him down here. Only smiled because he thought he was being a cocky son of a bitch but Dean was too tired to deal with regular demon crap. He wished they would just tell him what he wants to hear so he could be on his way but they never made it easy for him.

Dean sighed as he twirled the angel blade in his hands as he sat up and took the few steps towards him. To stand just at the edge of the trap. “You know, if you ain’t talking I don’t have to keep you alive. Shit, I would have killed you even though you were talking but I guess you aren’t useful to me after all. Probably not even the right demon. They said this demon was smart and he’s a leader demons can depend on or whatever but you…” Dean looked the demon up and down before shrugging. “Meh. You look like any other basic bitch. Nothing special.”

“I am the future of hell!” The demon hissed at him and Dean found his weak spot. His pride. Not really a surprise. “I will be a leader that will not roll over for the Winchesters or anybody for that matter! My army would kill that red-headed bit-Ah!”

Dean squirted the demon with holy water from Jack’s tiny water gun. He chuckled when he got him right in the eye but then glared back at the demon. “Now, let’s be civil and keep from the name-calling. Just tell me where your army is. I mean, don’t you wanna see how strong they are? If they can defeat me then damn I’m sure all of hell will follow you with no hesitation. Since, you know, I killed Hitler.”

“I don’t need my army to kill you. I can do it myself.” The demon laughed and it was darker, clearly knows something Dean doesn’t. “I forgot to tell you. We also captured a little leverage not that long ago. Why do you think I let you take me so easily?”

“Cause you suck?”

The demon, clearly not amused, continued his evil person speech that made Dean roll his eyes and groan as he paced around the trap. 

“Do you think we didn’t know Rowena would call on you two for help? We couldn’t stand by and let a Winchester rule alongside the Queen! What an embarrassment to be taking ordered from that overgrown son of a-” Dean waved the water gun around again. “So I took matters into my own hands. I figured we couldn’t get to your brother but sometimes the new God sends one of his Daddy’s to do some work here on Earth without supervision. Without back up.”

“Cas?”

“Oh, we have your precious little Angel somewhere hidden away from you and your God.”

Dean walked into the devil’s trap and held the blade to the demon’s throat. “You have five seconds to tell me where he is or I’ll kill you.”

“You will never find him without me and I will never reveal him until after my bomb-Ahh!”

���Time’s up.” Dean finally pulls the blade out of the demon’s chest as soon as his screams die out. Then he was on the phone calling the dumb angel that let himself be jumped again.

 After the third ring, Cas answers with a tired, “Hello Dean.”

“You’re a dumbass you know that.”

“I figured you will say something like that but I’m fine they just wa-oof!” Dean can hear Cas groan out in pain and Dean was already out of the dungeon with his keys in his hands. “Where the hell are you?”

“Dean Winchester.” Someone says and Dean was too mad to deal with another speech from demonic asshats. “What a nice-”

“Just tell me where to meet you and quick. I would like to kill you before dinner.”

A short laugh from the demon as she said, “Funny.” 

“Well I try my-” Dean started but then he heard a groan from Cas before a coughing fit started. That alone made Dean tense up as his boy heated up in anger that really should scare just about anyone who dared mess with family. 

The demon then quickly told him their location, an obvious trap but who cares now. The only problem was that they wanted a trade. The dead demon, that he was positive they didn’t know was dead, for Cas. Well, he hopes they like surprises cause the only thing they are going to get from Dean is a one-way ticket to the damn Empty for laying a damn finger on his husband.

The trip went just as expected. Dean pretended the demon was in the trunk of his Baby and killed the first few that came to check it out. Then he was walking inside the old-looking house with the angel blade in hand hoping that Cas hasn’t prayed to their son yet because then he’ll start to worry again.

Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of Cas going fully human, to be honest, Dean wasn’t either, for the same reason as Cas not being able to heal himself. Now they were constantly worried that the new fully human Cas scraped his knee somewhere. Or worse, made himself into bait by a bunch of demons who thought was a great idea to kidnap one of God’s dads.

As soon as he walked into the house he called out for Cas. He got some lady, probably the demon from the phone, answer from upstairs. While he made his way upstairs he noticed a couple of demons standing sideline downstairs but he can deal with those later. It’s not like he was in a hurry or anything. 

“Okay,” Dean walked over to the wide-open door where he could already see Cas tied up to a chair and unconscious. He knew this was a clear trap but he didn’t care as he ran over to his husband. Taking his head in his hands he quietly whispered, “Cas, honey, you okay?”

He found a pulse at least but Cas was bleeding from his nose and his cheek was starting to swell under the rag they were using as a gag. There were bruises along his wrist along with rope burns from trying to escape probably because of course Cas wouldn’t just stay put to wait for Dean to come.

“Now that you have your angel back or ex angel. A surprise that made it a lot easier for all of us actually,” Dean didn’t even turn around to face the talking demon as he started to untie Cas. “Let’s discuss our fair trade. I will ignore that you killed our people as long as you let our leader go.”

“Yeah, your leader is dead.”

“W-what?”

“Gone. Fin. Rotting in my dungeon at home as we speak.”

“But we had a deal!”

“What you got me here, didn’t you? I’m sure there was something else that was supposed to happen.” Dean says as finally unties Cas and then removes the dirty gag rag. “Oh man, he’ll have to get some shots after having that in his mouth. You know how long it took me to convince him to get a flu shot.”

Dean was then thrown against the wall because of course, he was. The angry demon stalked towards him and Dean realized he left the blade by Cas’s side. He reached for the gun in his pocket only to be pinned to the wall now, a not so new trick he was also tired of. 

“I’m gonna guess that you’re not happy,” Dean said between his teeth as the woman stood in front of him. Her fingers reaching to caress his cheek, not creepy at all but most importantly he didn’t know where her hands have been. Everything in this dump was dirty. Dean’s gonna have to burn their clothes after this. “So, you wanna share your big overthrow the government plan or…?”

Of course, she did. Dean was only really half-listening as other demons started to walk in and make a beeline for Cas, who still rested unconsciously on the dirty chair. Dean delivered a threat to them to not touch his husband but of course, that was ignored as they reached to throw Cas over one of their shoulders. 

Then he heard the demon lady’s words, “Wait, Cas’s the bomb?”

“Who else can get close to the Queen?” She smiled with her black coal eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry you’ll work for us too. Get that brother of yours out of the way.”

“That’s a terrible plan.” Dean tried to turn his head towards the voice of his husband who must have hidden the blade somewhere because the next thing he knows he hears screaming then another scream and one more for good measure. “You should pick me up like that more often, Dean.”

Dean smiled as he rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll do that now but I’m kind of preoccupied with the whole being stuck to the wall thing.”

“You suck at rescue missions.” Cas teased him as the demon waved her hand to try to push Cas against his own wall but Cas was quicker as he threw the blade across the room to be buried into the demon’s chest. 

Cas was by his side at once as he kneeled down beside Dean and took his face in his hands now, giving him a once over. He rested his forehead against Dean’s own and for a second they just sat still like that, letting the relief of the other being okay run through them but the demons running up the stairs had terrible timing. They also angered the scariest human in heaven and Dean loved seeing how badass Cas looked in a fight.

They called Sam after it was all over to let him know what happened and it was a quick call because his husband was being too grabby now.

“Don’t you dare kiss me until you brush your teeth!”

“Then let’s go home and take a hot shower together.”

“Fine but it won’t be sexy cause I’m scrubbing you clean.”

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Censorship and Banning Books

As I mentioned in my last Rant Rave Review, as of last Monday, six books by Dr. Seuss are now officially out-of-print, and they are out of print due to supposedly racist, offensive, and/or stereotypical images. The company that owns the rights to these books is no longer publishing them and some websites are no longer selling them. People who do own the books, or who swooped into stores and bought them the day of the announcement, are now selling them for hundreds or thousands of dollars. So, what are we to make of all this?

Is Dr. Seuss Racist?

There are actually three questions here: is the man racist, are his books racist, and are those images racist? The answer to the first is, he kinda was, and then he got over it. During the war, he was openly against the Japanese, and in favor of the internment camps, then went to Japan during the occupation and realized, hey, maybe these are just people. Apparently, he wrote Horton Hears a Who in response to the US occupation and dedicated it to a Japanese friend. People can change, if you let them.

Okay, well, what about his books? This is an obvious "no". Race basically doesn't come up in Dr. Seuss stories, except "The Sneetches", which is actively against racism. Which, in some people's fevered imaginations, makes it racist. Yes, in some Olympic-level mental gymnastics, saying that whatever race you are isn't important, ie being against "racial essentialism" means that you are a racist. Such people think that the story doesn't address "structures of power" and "systemic oppression". This is true. It's instead a story about a sleazy businessman who goes in and preys on existing racial biases in order to make a buck, constantly telling people to think of their identities in terms of their outward appearance. You'd think the racial essentialists would appreciate the representation.

But I digress.

What about the images themselves? Are they racist? Not having seen all of them, I can't say for sure, but some are definitely cringy. Take the yellow skinned "Chinaman who eats with sticks" in And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. Though one could argue that the entire book uses only five colors: yellow, red, blue, and touches of purple and green, this man is the only human whose skin is colored at all. Later editions of this book have actually changed the image and text:

Honestly, I think this is fine. The meter still scans, and the image isn't straight-up removed. I mean, we could maybe discuss whether it's okay to alter an author's work, but he was alive when at least one of these these changes was made, so I think he allowed it.

Next we have some from If I Ran the Zoo, like this one, of some Asian dudes who "all wear their eyes at a slant":

I think, in this case, the text is the problem, but not the picture. Though some describe this image as "exotified", I think it's more just exaggerated, as are most of Dr. Seuss's characters. He doesn't do things half way. Aside from that, the picture is kind of cute and silly; nothing in it is derogatory or mean to the helpers. The text on the other hand... oof. Yeah, I would say this is a true example of something "offensive". I could see changing that (as long as the meter still scans!).

And then there are the fellows holding the tufted mazurka:

That's pretty bad. So bad that as a child, I don't think I actually registered that those were supposed to be humans, but rather other Seussian creatures. It doesn't help, again, that in his color pallet, people that would ordinarily be brown are now black-black, not unlike the most racist images of yesteryear. But the fact that their lips are left uncolored, I think, is what gets me. It's a little too close to black-face for comfort. Again, I think it would be okay to alter the image: color in their lips, change the shading. I know some people quibble with their costume, but some peoples do wear little amounts of clothing, so I don't think thats the issue here.

I can't speak to the other books, because I haven't seen those pictures, but I would say, yeah, some of the images and phrasing are problematic. I don't think that means the books are racist. Seuss isn't saying the Asian helpers or the African mazurka wranglers are less than the white child running the zoo. He is exotifying them to some degree, but the degree to which that is being done can, I believe, be fixed with very minor alterations.

Should the Books Be Banned?

Again, I think there are a couple questions here: are these books being banned, and should they be banned?

In our increasingly-willing-to-cancel culture, people like to talk about the difference between government censorship vs. corporate censorship, which is a valid topic. But when it comes to huge corporations like Amazon banning books from their website for hate speech or Ebay halting the ability of vendors to sell certain titles on their platform, to say "it’s a private corporation, so it's not censorship" is disingenuous. Maybe it doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it is censorship. A single bookstore refusing to sell a book, a single library refusing to carry a book, is censorship.

A single company that owns the rights to a book refusing to sell it is 100% censorship. I'm personally offended by the idea of any book being out-of-print in the day and age of print-on-demand, but I'm especially sickened when companies pull this nonsense. This is similar to foreign companies who refuse to publish novels, games, and videos in English copyright striking fanlations; they are not losing money, so why do they care?

In the case of the Seuss estate, or whoever owns the rights, all that they are doing is denying poor people access to books. That's right, if you can shell out $786 for a children's book, you can read these delightful stories. What's that? You're a single mom who works two jobs? Well, sucks to be you.

What's really vile is that people are saying, "It's only six books. You still have the others." First off, this is admitting that those six books are now censored and unavailable. Secondly, this is a stupid argument. It's like saying, "Well, the Nazi's didn't burn every book in Germany. There were plenty of others." What if I wanted to read the ones that were burned?

And that brings us to the question of whether or not those books ought to be banned. Heck, should they even be altered? Some of you might have balked at my saying I was fine with the images being changed; isn't that censorship? I think that would take it's own blog post, but here I'll just say that I don't think the changes I discussed would really alter the content, message, or meaning of the work. That being said, I don't think you have to change the images either.

That is, I think it's okay to publish, purchase, own, and read problematic material. As many commentators have pointed out, no child is going to be made into a racist by reading these books or seeing these images. Any racist or even iffy overtones are going to go right over their heads unless parents point them out. If, in the one in a million chance, your child actually notices anything wrong with the images, like "why is his skin yellow?" or something, then you can have a conversation about how sometimes, back in the day, people drew some not-so-nice pictures of Asian people and thought their skin should be painted as yellow, but we don't do that anymore, but this book was written a long time ago, etc etc. If they ask about what a Chinaman is, say it's an old word for a Chinese person, but you should never say it, because it can hurt people's feelings. Talk to your children; it isn't hard.

Should Any Books Be Banned

If you've been paying attention to what's been happening in book land lately, you'll know that Dr. Seuss's books are not the first to be put on the chopping block. Last year, Abigail Shrier's book, Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters, was removed from Target due to requests of trans activists. It was returned after backlash. Now I think it might be banned again? Who can even keep up anymore. Similarly, When Harry Became Sally: Responding to the Transgender Moment, by Ryan T. Anderson, has now been removed from Amazon for being "hate speech".

In the microcosm of the library world, I've had some people take issue with certain controversial books. When processing our new books, my part-timer picked up Irreversible Damage and asked, "Did someone request this?" as if we shouldn't have ordered it if they didn't. Both that book, and White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo, were face out in our new book area, since they were the newest books. The former was turned backwards or put spine out with the older books multiple time by patrons, the latter turned backwards once. During the election, I found books for and against Trump hidden behind other books.

My question for people who do this in the library, and for corporations who do essentially the same thing on a massive scale, is who exactly do you think you are helping? Do you think anyone's mind is going to be changed on Trump? Or transgenderism, or white fragility, just by reading a book?

If the answer is "no", then why bother banning or hiding them? If the answer is yes, then that means you think books have the power to change minds, but you want to deny that opportunity to people. Rather than debating ideas, or writing a better book, or showing people why they shouldn't think a certain way, people are increasingly trying to banish certain ideas entirely. How dare an author question X, Y, or Z idea? How dare people be allowed to have an opinion different from the one we say they should!

What's so frustrating about cancel culture and censorship is that people think they really are trying to do the right thing. What they don't realize is, the people they cancel also think they are doing the right thing.

Take Irreversible Damage: obviously, those that want it banned think that trans kids will be hurt by the ideas expressed in the book, that they will be denied hormones and surgeries and so forth. I'm sure Abigail Shrier believes that trans kids would be hurt by no one examining the idea of wether or not they should be given hormones and surgeries as minors. Both sides care about kids. Both sides are trying to figure out how to help people. If you think that Shrier is wrong and her book is dangerous, then write a more compelling argument explaining why she's wrong.

An example of the right way to go about this is with White Fragility, a book that some people see as problematic, if not racist against white people or black people or both. People have written books specifically refuting the ideas in the book. Others have compiled titles that handle race more tactfully and that can be read instead. And that's the thing; you can choose what to read. You can choose never to read a book deemed problematic, but you have no right to take that choice away from other people.

Where Do Libraries Fall Into All This?

That "right to read" is one of the pillars or librarianship. The reason libraries exist is so that all people, regardless of money, have equal access to books, movies, and other aspects of our shared culture. We librarians understand that books are important not just for education, but also entertainment and escape. Stories are how we as humans process ideas, and everyone has a right to expose themselves to ideas--even controversial or dangerous or flat out wrong ones. They have the right to examine different sides of an issue and form their own conclusions. To try and control what a person reads is to try and control what they think, and no government or corporation has that right.

Thus, libraries don't ban books, wether those books are literary classics, modern treatises on current events and ideologies, or silly picture books by Dr. Seuss.

So it was with some concern that I got an email saying that our county library district would be taking the six Seuss books in question out of circulation. The rationale was that, given that a single book was selling for hundreds or thousands of dollars, some sticky-fingered patrons might steal then from the shelves or "lose" them after checking them out.

Though this logic was sound, I still had misgivings, especially because of incidences of library censorship in the past. Yes, even libraries have not been immune to the scourge. During the Cold War, some libraries would keep books about communism behind the reference desk so that people would have to ask to read them in the library. Not only did this potentially help identify commies, it also discouraged people from reading the books.

Thus, when our new policy is to keep the Seuss books "at the desk" and only let them be read in the library, is that not censorship? Is this accidental censorship, or perhaps intended by the very cancel culturists who want all problematic books to be sent down the memory hole?

No, I don't think it is, because--despite what the very mob who’s in favor of all of this would have you believe--intention matters. Reasons matter. We are not trying to make the books harder to read; we're trying to keep the books from becoming impossible to read. By protecting the books from theft, we're ensuring that the poor as well as the rich can enjoy Dr. Seuss's stories. This, in my mind, is similar to chained up bibles: it looks bad, until you remember that books were rare and expensive, and illuminated manuscripts even more so. If someone steals a book, no one gets to read it, but if a book is under lock and key, some people still can.

Of course, everyone could, if companies would simply stop censoring books, if stores would stop banning them, and if well-intentioned but short-sighted activists would stop digitally burning them. But maybe that's too much to hope for at present. For now, we librarians will have the books safe and sound for when you want to read them. You have only to ask.

[margarethelstone]

Our Sleeves Were Wet With Tears | Chapter 10

Chapter 10 / Read on AO3!

"Taichi! Taichi! Don't! Don't do it! Don't leave the club, don't! Taichi..."

Her voice was strained and rusty as she screamed her pleas for him to hear, her breathing shallow and uneven like it only could have been after the chase she'd just finished. There was sweat upon her brow and a good deal of dust all over her face. Her hair was a mess, too, the so carefully braided plaits coming undone inelegantly, loose strands flowing in the wind right in front of her eyes.

The eyes that were so full of tears.

He lowered his gaze and fixed in on the ground under his feet, suddenly resolute not to meet hers. He didn't need to look at her to guess what the rest of her looked like, to realise that the hakama she wore was wrinkled and uneven. He'd worn a kimono enough times himself to know that the tight binding would never remain so after the sprint Chihaya had just done, and if that didn't happen fast enough, then Chihaya herself would loosen it to allow her to run even faster.

She'd run all this way from school, of that he had no doubt. As fast as she could, as recklessly as she always did.

She'd run to meet him, to catch him by the sleeve and cry out her complaints, to beg him not to leave her behind the way he had. She'd found out about his resignation and dashed out of the school, not bothering to change into her usual clothes, darting towards the train station he himself had been walking to. He didn't know whether she'd managed to deliver the speech. He didn't know whether she'd even begun it.

He had no idea if the discovery of his unexpected retirement had been made before or after the club presentations were over.

"Taichi... Don't..."

Logic told him it should have been the former. After all, she was expected to tell the students what the number of the members was.

"Don't..."

Her voice had come from calling, to shouting, to stammering. She uttered the same few words, over and over again, as if unable to come up with anything else, or maybe just thought that nothing else was necessary. That nothing else would work.

That if her desperate howling wasn't enough, then nothing would suffice.

Taichi felt the weight of her, clinging onto his arms stubbornly. The weight he'd used to joke about, teasing her about her weighing much more than might be expected of her, just to see that one-of-a-kind expression appear on her face; to see her indignation that to him was as adorable as it was funny, all the better because he could be sure she would not be offended by his jokes but that in the end, she'd laugh at them with him instead.

However, neither of them was laughing now.

It was no place for jokes.

And the burden that he bore had little to do with Chihaya's physical weight.

He listened closely, expecting another invocation; but none came. Instead, he heard her sobs, ragged and loud and ugly, though at the same time it was obvious that at least the high volume wouldn't last long. She was already exhausted enough to cast away the words, it would be foolish to expect her cries to last much longer.

Taichi knew that he should've been shaken by the sight. Horrified, perhaps, and definitely not wishing for it to continue for a second longer, regardless of how quiet or noisy it was. He should've felt sorry for Chihaya, and mad at himself for causing her distress, and thinking of a way to ease her mind quickly. Even if he couldn't grant her her request, he at least should have tried to find a way to break it to her kindly.

He should have apologised for not telling her sooner and telling her himself.

He should not have been feeling all the anger that he did feel.

He should have been able to appreciate the fact that she cared for him enough to go after him and ask to come back to her.

None of those he could do.

Because Taichi was angry with her. Even though he knew her intentions were noble and the wish to get him back was sincere, he still couldn't ignore the fact that it was her needs and her fears that had dictated it. It was her shock and misery that had made her run, and not the concern she had felt for him.

She hadn't considered his view on things. She hadn't stopped to think of why he'd made that particular choice or what reasons he might have had to support it. Right now, it looked like she couldn't care less about what he thought was right – and the more he thought of it, the more furious he grew.

Couldn't she see that it was downright impossible for him to stay in the club with her, after all that had happened between them? Did she really not see how hard it was on him, how much worse it would irrevocably become over time? It hadn't even been two weeks since he'd confessed. And of course, he'd made sure to act normally during the club meetings so far - but surely, knowing what she had, Chihaya couldn't have missed the changes in him, could she?

There was no reason for her to act so flabbergasted. He'd given her enough signals for her to figure out his plan.

Or was she really so blind?

It was either that or assuming that she'd consciously ignored all that she'd seen in favour of indulging in her own desire to have him by her side, no matter the cost.

He sensed her fingers tighten around his forearm. He moved on instinct; grabbing her by the elbow, with his other hand cupping the back of her head, he pulled her close to him, the wrath he felt now mixing with the helplessness that came over him and the contempt he had for himself. He brought her close, taking advantage of her surprise, close enough for their breaths to intermingle.

He saw her bright eyes, wide open and so full of dread, with tears glazing her irises and hanging on the tips of her eyelashes. He heard her hold her breath as she watched him, dazed, determined not to do as much as blink.

His mouth brushed against her upper lip.

He didn't dare to turn it into a kiss.

Perhaps if he had, the situation would have changed. Maybe if he had acted on his emotions like he wished to, if he had had the courage to close the distance and force his will onto her, she would have reconsidered the answer she'd given him on that ghastly afternoon two weeks ago. She might not have liked it or be grateful for it, but she would at least know what it was that he had yearned for for so long and maybe, just maybe, she would have realised that it wasn't as horrible and surreal a vision as it apparently was to her. It wouldn't have made her love him. But she at least might have seen him as a potential lover and partner and not just her good, childhood friend.

If only he could have shown her how ardently he really loved her.

He didn't though. He didn't know whether it was the respect he still had for her or his own cowardliness that stopped him – and who knows, maybe even the hidden cruelty that told him to play with her and tease her, as a payback for all the fake hope she'd unwillingly given him?

He didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care, either.

"Chihaya," he said instead, his hands moving to her shoulders, his fingers curling and digging into the thick fabric she wore. "Do you think... Do you think I'm made of stone?"

Tears fell down her cheeks.

His eyes fell on them.

And the world fell apart.

***

A rumble of the passing train snapped him out of the daydream violently, shattering the picture before his eyes into a thousand little pieces. Taken aback, Taichi flinched involuntarily, surprised both by the noise and the reality that had come rushing to him. He looked around, instinctively, taking in the surroundings; he sighed with relief, seeing that despite his earlier inattentiveness he had not just walked right into some danger or other.

Not physically, anyway.

He shook his head and shrugged, somehow managing to adjust the strap of his bag simultaneously, and resumed his stroll. He needed to bend under the barrier, still not raised properly – but he paid it little mind. Even if it wasn't exactly what a model citizen should be doing.

He was putting enough energy into becoming one in other ways than waiting for a piece of wood to come up.

So he walked, swiftly and resolutely, not at all willing to roam around the place that had nothing but flashbacks of his hardships and his idiocy. He had enough to worry about without adding such incidents to the mix, especially when he knew so well that the occurrence was far from extraordinary, at least in his case. It had happened before. It would certainly happen again. The only thing that changed was his imagination that really was becoming more vivid by the day, making his memories seem more like dreams than recollections made knowingly in his supposedly conscious, awake mind.

The fact that it wasn't surprising to him only confirmed his belief that there was no point thinking about it.

For he really wasn't surprised. Why should he be? Because it had already been three days since his unexpected talk with Kanade and the discoveries he'd made then? Three whole days since she'd told him about Chihaya leaving the club as well as the circumstances of her resignation? With the amount of details he'd learnt on that occasion, it would have been naive to hope to be over it in a matter of days, especially now when he knew that he couldn't confront the girl in question openly.

The news about her quitting had been a shock to him, there was no denying that. One from which he still hadn't recovered, nor did he expect to do it any time soon.

And yet, it was not that information that had made him lose himself in thought just now.

No, the bare fact that she had left, as astonishing as it was, had little to do with his momentary inattentiveness. The description of her last few appearances in the club room, given to him so generously by Kanade hadn't been a direct cause of it, either, though it certainly was much closer to the real source of his sudden reverie. Still, it wasn't precisely the reason for it.

He hadn't spaced out because he'd remembered how Chihaya had acted. It wasn't the image of her playing hesitantly or the lack of passion she was told to have shown that had made him close his eyes tight for a second, before raising them to the sky above him, unwilling to look at the environment around him.

It was her words.

"She said that all the cards were black to her."

What a damn moron, he thought, though whether he meant her or himself, he couldn't really say.

He remembered the look on Kanade's face when she'd told him about it, a mixture of determination and anxiety so natural in those particular circumstances. The hint of confusion in her eyes when she'd quoted Chihaya's muttering, not understanding the meaning behind it but trusting that he would.

Once again, she was right.

He did.

How couldn't he? The line was still too fresh in his mind, despite the seemingly long time that had passed since he'd uttered it. He didn't even know how many weeks it had been  – three? four? Something in between or perhaps even more? To him it made no difference. He remembered what he'd said that day to her; he knew that she'd heard him.

He knew that on that day in the clubroom, she'd been using his words.

This was why he wasn't surprised that the memory came back to him now. It was here where he'd said those very same words to her, it was only natural that they would reappear in his mind as soon as his eyes registered the view. Sure, he'd already walked the path twice and felt nothing; still, even that could have been explained with at least a couple of reasons.

Like the fact that he'd covered all his way to the station in one long run after he and Kanade had finished talking, afraid he would be late to his cram school classes.

The fact that he'd made an extra effort revising English vocab in his head when he'd walked home yesterday, aware of the danger that was still awaiting him.

The fact that he'd let his guard down recklessly just now, too tired to even worry about it.

A group of sparrows cried on his right, before taking flight unexpectedly, making him shift his gaze once more. Taichi followed the flock for a moment, until all of the birds settled down on another tree nearby, even though it was clear that they had no intention of falling silent any time soon.

The bright, warm rays of sun shone through the branches.

Taichi smiled weakly at the sight.

He supposed his reminiscences might have had something to do with the fact that the whole scene looked almost exactly as it had back then.

It really was no wonder that they'd come to haunt him now.

Still, he had no wish to succumb to those thoughts, no matter how well justified their arrival was. He was so tired of it, too: of the constant battle against his own mind (or was it his heart?) that for some reason kept bringing up the most painful memories and ideas at the worst possible times. And it wasn't even that he was particularly tired or miserable already – had that been the case, he at least could have understood the timing. After all, tired meant weak; exhausted meant distracted.

It would have made sense for the bad thoughts to appear whenever he was already feeling down.

However, they didn't. Instead, it seemed like his brain had intentionally chosen the less obvious path, always waiting until its owner convinced himself that he might do better. Whenever Taichi had made up his mind about moving on – whenever he'd come up with a new strategy or plan – whenever he started feeling confident that he could exile the images of Chihaya and their relationship from his thoughts, his mind betrayed him, bringing them back with a force Taichi could not withstand.

And even that comparison was not at all free of connotations. Quite the opposite: the feeling was so similar to what he'd felt during his long talk with Chihaya, that ignoring it seemed downright impossible at this point.

At that time, he'd been trying to recall the wounds she'd given him, but could only think of all the joy she'd brought into his life.

Now he wished to forget her, if only for a time – and yet, he couldn't, the occurrence all the more ironic given how much Chihaya herself had done in order to stay out of his sight these days.

In both of these cases, his reason should have won.

Then why didn't it?

"Seriously," he grumbled, succumbing to the new habit of discussing matters with himself loudly. "What's the point of trying this hard when none of it pays off, anyway? I might as well give up already and let it all take over me again. What am I saying, I could call Chihaya this moment, or even go meet her and it wouldn't make it any worse than it is already! So why do I even bother?!"

By the time he'd got to the final words of his complaint, he was nearly shouting. He knew that he should pull himself together before someone around him noticed – he really was lucky that the area was as deserted as it had been during his heartbreaking encounter with Chihaya, even if it did little to lift his spirits in general – and yet at the same time, he was well aware that with every day that passed he'd come closer to the state of not giving a hoot. Again, it wasn't because he wished for it; he was simply losing his strength.

And the more time went by, the less was left in him to use.

He had good reasons for it, too. The situation was frustrating. There was no better word for it, no term that could describe his struggles more precisely. When all of his labour appeared to be a fool's errand, when all the choices he made seemed flawed. He knew he needed to work, to occupy himself one way or another in order to keep his mind off certain subjects, only to realise that his attempts had all been in vain.

He understood that his endeavours would be fruitless.

Still, he also knew that doing nothing was a far worse path.

It really was quite a hopeless business.

"Is that the story of my life? Is everything I do futile?" he heard his memory prompt him, the vague recollection of last year's national tournament looming before his mind's eyes. The blurry shape of Emuro Ryoga, who'd reminded him of Arata at the time, but whom he could and had defeated, if only by a hair and only thanks to the remarkable stroke of luck he could not have counted on. Thanks to the deal he'd made with God during that match.

Yet another memory he could do without right now.

Pull yourself together, Taichi, he ordered himself quietly, reaching out to adjust his jacket, an action as random as it was necessary, for his psyche at least; anything that could help him shift his attention a bit. Just because the results aren't immediate doesn't mean there won't be any. All things take time to grow, it's foolish to expect the change so soon, even if it might have seemed different at first... So man up and wait like you're supposed to.

Right, he remembered. Waiting was something he was actually pretty good at – or at least, that's what it would have looked like to the people around him. As hard as it was, as painful as it was, he was a patient guy, what with the unsolicited training Chihaya had put him through.

There's no reason to throw that feature away now, his inner voice supplied. Not when there's such an obvious demand for it.

Patience.

Of course.

Another thing he'd become so tired of.

He groaned angrily and picked up his pace again, eager to reach the train station at last. Even with the railway crossing behind him, he still ached for a change of surroundings, no matter how small. Besides, every step he made brought him closer to his cram school, and if there was one thing he knew – one thing he could still trust in – it was that as soon as he reached it, all the unwelcome thoughts would go away pretty much on their own.

After all, wasn't his extra studying the main reason why he'd done so well in the first week after Chihaya's grand visit there?

Shame it all ended before that week had even come to an end, the more spiteful part of him suggested before Taichi could even think of blocking it. Also, won't the cram school entrance only remind you of her now? The one place that was supposed to be entirely unrelated to her. Now that's a shame, too...

He shook his head decidedly, resolute to chase away the vicious thoughts, even if belatedly. It was another quirk that he seemed to have picked up in the course of the last weeks, though as of now, it still remained unacknowledged, to a certain degree at least. Still, it worked well enough for him in general, allowing to clear his mind and gain the minimal amount of time required for coming up with a defending mechanism.

Sometimes, a few seconds was all that he needed.

And yet, it seemed like it wasn't the case now, not entirely anyway. Already worn out with his previous battle of thoughts and focused on barring those of Chihaya's feverish chase and his own cold rebuttal of her request, he overlooked the other memory of her, the appearance of which was as obvious as it was reasonable. Determined not to let the hatred and contempt flourish in his heart, he unintentionally allowed his gentleness to take over and accept in his name a thought his reason would have rejected instantly.

For indeed the mention of his cram school brought Chihaya to his mind.

And yet even then, it wasn’t her words that he heard.

"It probably won't be very comfortable to kneel on the tatami with it. You might want to think of a cushion."

They were his own.

He almost froze on the spot upon remembering that particular part of the fateful conversation they'd had after she'd come to see him there. The way she had stumbled for seemingly no reason at all, how the accident had been the ice-breaker they'd both so needed at the time. It seemed to do the exact same job for him now, the thought of it somehow making him cast aside all doubts and worries just to focus on the absurd memory itself.

He would have smiled at the well-engraved image of Chihaya's pouting that had immediately appeared in his head, if not for all overtones that he'd just come to realise.

"That won't be necessary."

Of course it wasn't.

"I won't be needing it."

Of course she did not.

"I'll be fine."

Of course she...

"She already knew she wouldn't be playing," Taichi whispered hoarsely to himself, his eyes wide open with astonishment that clearly wasn't going anywhere. "She'd already left the club at the time. And she clearly wasn't thinking of coming back any time soon."

Then why hadn't she told him...?

But she had.

Yes, she had. In that exact moment, when she had shot down his idea so promptly, reacting faster and with more conviction that she could have done if her mind hadn't been made up from the start. Knowing Chihaya's character (and the obstinacy that came with it), he had mistaken her confidence for determination, assuming that what she'd talked about was gritting her teeth and powering through regardless of the possible pain. He'd seen her push her limits like this enough times to know she was capable of it in situations much more dire than a simple cutting of a knee.

He was so sure of Chihaya's inability to give up, he missed the clue that said she already had.

It was a little hint. A tiny, weak, almost non-existent one that, in all honesty, couldn't have objectively been called one. Save for the already mentioned immediacy of Chihaya's answer, there was no sign that her words had been anything other than a reflection of her usual sanguine attitude; there was no way for Taichi to see through the act and surmise what she'd been actually referring to.

He couldn't have understood.

He absolutely should have.

"Argh, not again!" he groaned, pressing his hands against his temples somewhat desperately. "I couldn't! I'm not a mind reader, for Pete's sake! Just because I know her well... I mean, even considering that I do, how was I supposed to guess when she clearly didn't want me to?"

It wasn't until he uttered the last word that the full realisation had hit him. Up until now, he could have – and had – assumed that Chihaya's omission had been nothing but a blunder on her part, an understandable negligence that was entirely in her style. He could have blamed it on the situation, too, what with the singularity of Chihaya's fall, as well as the time limit the two of them had needed to heed.

They'd spent well over an hour in that playground, after all, and still it seemed like there hadn't been enough time. It was only natural that she couldn't have told him everything, wasn't it?

Yes, it was.

Or at least, that's what Taichi had been subconsciously telling himself for the two last days.

What a fool he was.

Because there was no doubt now. All of a sudden, it was enough for him to recall the events briefly to know that there was no room for mistake in this particular case, that whatever the reason was for Chihaya not telling him about her leaving the club, it surely wasn't because she'd forgotten. His suggestion had not been made at the end of their talk; he hadn't made his remark in a heated discussion in the midst of it. It couldn't have been overlooked.

Instead, it had been heard and answered, and even though the reply itself was vague, it still meant that the issue had been acknowledged.

Heck, just the fact that he had raised the subject should've told him that already.

She didn't want me to know.

The question now was – why?

"It wasn't because she didn't trust me," he mumbled under his breath, as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, impatiently. "If that had been the case, she wouldn't have agreed to talk in the first place. Sure, I did most of the talking then, at least when it comes to admitting and explaining things... but it wasn't like Chihaya had been holding back, either. If anything, she seemed resolved to clear things up as much as possible. Then why..."

Why did she conceal such crucial news?

Was it because she was afraid of hurting him? Or was it the opposite, with her fearing his reaction to the decision she'd made? There was no need for her to be afraid of that, surely; after abandoning the club like he had earlier, Taichi hardly had the right to criticise her for doing the same, even if he did want to give her an earful as soon as he'd learnt about it. She must have known that.

So was it the first option, after all?

No, that's not the reason why, he thought almost instantly. Her visit itself held the risk of wounding someone, and Chihaya must have realised that. She wouldn't have dodged the answer because of it, as uncomfortable as it made her feel. However, she didn't hesitate with her answer, either, which is just another proof that her choice had been irreversible – In other words, there was no possibility of her changing her mind anymore. But then, why couldn't she have just said so in the first place?

Perhaps she'd actually intended to. It was no trivial matter, so it made sense that she didn't want to bring it up in the middle of their banter, especially when she'd had every reason to believe they'd talk more seriously after her cut had been seen to. If her plan had been to wait and bring it up later...

Then he surely couldn't blame her for the choice she'd made.

"And I suppose I can't really hold it against her for not getting to it afterwards, either," he mused out loud. "That talk we had... If there's one thing I can say for sure about it, it's that there was no plan for it – and even if there had been, then it pretty much would've got thrown out of the window the moment we started replying to one another. Heaven knows there was a lot to unpack, so even if Chihaya wanted to tell me, it's possible that she simply got swept by the flow and missed the chance to say it so... Wait, no! That's just an excuse. Or maybe... Heck, which one is it?!"

He slapped his palm against his forehead, finally giving in to the temptation and halting in his track, leaning heavily against the pavement barrier as if his agitation had affected his physical condition as well. With his back turned towards the road and his head bent low, he looked as if he were about to fall over – and honestly, with the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over him, he could hardly be surprised if it had really come to it.

He was so confused. He felt dizzy.

And yet, even with all those notions pestering him, he couldn't help but think that he was back to square one, and not only when it came to the subject at hand.

"I'm supposed to be moving forward," he reminded himself harshly. "I'm supposed to work on this. I am not supposed to give in so easily."

He'd only just told himself that the confusion he was feeling was not a sign of his failure, that just because he couldn't see the results yet it didn't mean he was wrong. As difficult as it was, as impossible as it seemed, he could get through it. If nothing else, he could at the very least wait it all out, postponing the day of his recovery but doing whatever was in his might until his mind stopped betraying him like it did now.

He could not give up.

Even if every fibre of his being screamed otherwise.

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[SYT] 1. the sheep and her stupid dogs

Show Your Teeth

Characters: Fiona, Winter, May, Robyn, Joanna Rating: Mature Word Count: 5247

The deadline to find a new teammate and pass their combat exam is approaching fast. Desperate for a substitute, Fiona takes her teammates to Mantle and finds more than a new partner.

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Fiona knew Atlas Academy was going to be difficult. The upperclassmen always told them, “Survive the first year and everything else would be a breeze,” but they weren’t a Faunus. They weren’t partnered with a quarry owner’s son. They weren’t surrounded by Atlas born elites, who’s family money was practically made from Faunus blood and bones. Lives even.  

Yes, the first year was hard but not because of the test and training. It was her own partner and those… those stupid elites!  

Fiona remembers the first time she finally broke under those hateful comments. She doesn’t remember the words, her own sobs to loud to hear much of anything. She could barely see Winter’s sneers through her tears. She does remember May’s fist… The feeling of shock, joy, and fear, as it colliding into her partner’s face.  

May beat the quarry owner’s son until his Aura broke then threw in a few more punches hidden under his clothes. All the while Winter Schnee shield Fiona in case he slipped past May. Fiona never stood up to people like that. It always ended bad for her but… she never had people defend her in such a way.

Fiona held her palms to her eyes, trying to push back the tears. She laughed and smiled at the now bittersweet memory, “You two… ugh! You two are such idiots!”  

Rich idiot with money and who knew how Atlas worked. A stupid Schnee too stubborn to care about her family name and a stupid Marigold too angry for reason. Two Atlas elites… who sacrifice their public image for her. Fiona wiped her eyes and replayed the public speech that finally got their fourth member expelled.  

Their team had just won a tournament and stood on stage before the crowd and cameras. Fiona should have known her elites were planning something. On screen May softly nudged Fiona to stand at the far left instead of her usual position in the middle right.  

Winter took the podium with an air of authority and confidence only the the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company could posses . Her voice was steady and calm, “Atlas is the pinnacle of peace and technology. We lead the world and set ourselves to a higher standard to strive beyond perfection,” the Winter-on-screen said. After nearly two years with the elite and countless hours of re-watching, Fiona could see the subtle tells of Winter’s temper rising.  

It was a little scary. She wasn’t as obvious as May’s pulsing veins and clenched jaw. It was her posture. Always perfect but her shoulders tensed, forearms stiffen, everything coiled tight ready for a strike.  

The strike was an angry gesture at their fourth member on the far right. “So why is this hateful, racist, queer intolerant buffoon still here?!” Winter yelled into the mic. That was the moment Winter became the former heiress of the SDC.  

Fiona watch her own reaction. On-screen-Fiona tried leaning over, to look at Winter, maybe to stop her but May gave a subtle gesture to stand down.  

Now Winter looked like May. A pulsing vein at the side of her neck, jaw tense and face reddening with anger.  

Anger for Fiona and May.  

Anger at the lack of action from General Ironwood and the other instructors at the Academy.  

“We endured his unreasonable hatred for over a year. If this is Atlas’s definition of peace and perfection…” On-screen-Winter took a deep breath, returning to the calm and cool women that first took the podium. “I, Winter Schnee, will have no part of it.” She ripped the medal around her neck and threw it to the ground. May did the same and the Fiona did it too with shaking hands, her nerves and fear bare for the world to see.  

If the Academy continued to do nothing, the world would know.  

Fiona laughed and wiped her eyes. She held the Scroll close to her chest, “You two idiots… Was it worth it?” Her voice cracked as another sob broke through.  

It wasn’t.  

She could hear Winter and May arguing in the bathroom. The most promising team of Atlas Academy… cut down before graduation… General Ironwood had deemed the combat exam too dangerous for only three second years and bared them from taking their final. They had till the middle of summer to find a replacement, train, and to pass the exam.  

“It’s been four days, Winter! No one is going to partner with us after the stunt we pulled!”  

“I’m sure there’s at least one other person willing-”  

“They can’t be upperclassmen. We’ve asked every second and first year, Win.”  

“We’re not taking that asshole back. That’s final.”  

“It’s our only option.”  

“There has to be another way!” Winter yelled.  

May sighed, “Me and Fiona will be fine-”  

“Bullshit!” There were several loud crash in the bathroom. Fiona flinched under each one and when May yelped in pain Fiona bolted from her bed. Her hand hovered just out of range of the motion sensor. “I’m not watching you two cry again.”  

“We’re not Weiss!” There were several loud crashes. Fiona nearly stepping back at each one. She stood her ground, heartbreaking with each punch that thudded through the metal door and walls. “We don’t need your protection!”  

“It’s not… it’s…”  

Fiona pulled her hand back using them pressing her ears flat and back to her head. She didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth the sacrificing their huntress careers. She survived nineteen years of racism, she should survive two more… For these stupid elites willing to throw away their status.  

The sheep Faunus took a breath for courage and waved her hand in front of the sensor before she lost it. The door to the bathroom slid open, revealing the pair of elites sprawled on the bathroom floor. Of course Winter was on top, a hand on May’s chest to pin her to the floor. Their chest was heaving from the yelling, face a little flush from their argument. Fiona didn’t blink, it was a familiar sight between two hot heads.  

“May’s right. We’ll be fine…” Then she spotted something a little off and her words trailed off. She could count the space between May and Winter’s lips with a hand, one finger. For a total of one inch.  

Either May didn’t realize how it looked or that this happened away too often in private. Winter couldn’t meet either of their eyes, but perhaps it was due to fighting May when she tried to shove her off. The Schnee didn’t budge, instead she adjusted from straddling May’s hips to sitting on her abdomen. The casual display of dominance only had the Marigold bristling, almost growling.  

“You’re crying,” Winter observed with a scowl. That seemed to snapped May out of their fight. She arched awkwardly to get a look at Fiona.  

“Why-” May started but Fiona interrupted her.  

If she wasn’t a Faunus they’d all would be moving into the third year dorms right now.  

“Stress,” Fiona said. She turned to one of the sinks and quickly rinsed her face from the tears and some snot she hoped the elites didn’t see. Through her fingers she caught Winter moving in the mirror, pulling at missing buttons and examine her uniform of any other damage. May seemed content to watch her partner preen and fix her appearance as best as possible until Winter looked down at her through long lashes and an arrogant smirk.  

“Get off, you fat ass,” May scowled.  

“In an effort to be a good teammate, leader, and reasonable adult. I’m ignoring that comment.” Winter said. She got to her feet and offered May her hand. Despite the scowl her partner took it.  

Fiona shelved her suspicions for later. She patted her face dry and looked back up at her elites. Their light glares at each other soften when Fiona caught their attention, “May’s right. We need a fourth and everyone in Atlas is too much of a coward…” Fiona gasped. In Atlas. Fiona’s ears flickered about, almost tickling herself as it brushed against her fluffy hair. She smiled up at them, “We haven’t asked around in Mantle!”  

As soon as the last word left her mouth May and Winter gave her an… interesting reaction. Disgust, contempt, reluctance, defeat. Fiona huffed and glared at the two, “The requirements was no upperclassmen. Nothing about our fourth member being a student!” She said.  

It didn’t really sway Winter’s opinion, “I doubt General Ironwood would allow it,” Winter said.  

At that May only light up, yellow eyes gleaming with mischief. She smiled back down at her, “Fiona you’re brilliant!” May laughed swooping her up and holding the sheep Faunus up high in the air. Fiona pouted back and kicked her legs. One of these days she will kick May in the balls… but not today. Today Fiona will enjoy that dumb smile and cute face. She needed it.  

Winter did too, even if she tried to act cool and indifferent. The Schnee made a show of slipping off her shirt with a sigh, “I suppose I’m out voted…” She mumbled looking at the missing buttons. Fiona only smiled. It wasn’t much of a vote when May was too eager to fuck the system. Winter dropped her shirt onto May’s head as she walked back into their dorm room. “You’re either fixing it or buying me a new one, Marigold.”  

“Whatever, ma’am,” May drawled at her, sticking out her tongue. She finally set Fiona down and grinned. “So where do we start?”  

The Police Academy was Fiona’s first thought. But after May smoothed down her designer clothes she changed her mind. “We need to get you two into something that doesn’t scream money.” Fiona said. “Something casual.”  

Winter and May glanced at each other. And May glanced at Winter’s abs and lace covered breast while the Schnee’s vision was blocked by a new top. Fiona couldn’t call her out on it because she was guilty of doing the same.  

“… This is casual,” Both the stupid elites replied.  

Fiona sighed, rubbing her temples. “Let’s just wear our uniforms. And a coat. A nice thick coat.”  

As expected the pair didn’t actually have a coat thick enough to make up for Mantle’s weak heating grid. Only after five minutes of walking around Fiona stopped them by a small store. Fiona’s suspicious rose slightly, watching Winter give May a red scarf and hot drink to help with the cold. May grumbled but still accepted the small gesture and even pressed her shoulder into Winter.  

When the Schnee finally looked away from her partner and at Fiona, the little lamb almost squeaked. “So? What now?”  

“We should start with the Police Academy. There’s a chance General Ironwood would at least recognize their training,” Fiona said.  

“Or we can split up and ask around,” May suggested. When Winter shivered a little May held out her drink for her. It was… so casual but Fiona couldn’t remember if it was a regular thing or not.  

Fiona shook her head from the distraction. “No, absolutely not,” She said crossing her arms and looking up at the totally the pair. “You two will totally get swindled or pick pocketed.”  

Winter’s lips frowned around the mouth of the hot drink. “I’m such a damsel in distress. Please protect me,” She drawled out in the most dead and flat tone Fiona has ever heard. May snorted and laugh while Fiona tried to pout but ended up giggling anyway. Winter tried to hid her own smile by taking another sip. The default scowl returned when Winter returned May’s drink to her, "I don’t need my swords for my Glyphs."  

“They can’t charge me with assault if it’s not on the cameras!” May said. Fiona and Winter frowned at her. Somehow May’s cute face and innocent smile turned the statement incredibly dark. Possible because it was a well tested statement. The Marigold huffed at their reactions, “Besides it’s not like we need the lien.”  

“… Very reassuring you two,” Fiona sighed. They could claim self-defense and get away with it but that favoritism will probably work against them in Mantle. Though dragging along an unwilling pair of elites could hurt their cause. “Let’s put it to a vote…” Fiona drawled out already knowing how it would go.  

“For splitting up,” Winter said with a raised hand.  

May actually hesitated, “… How pissed would you be if I changed my mind-”  

“Marigold!” Winter scowled. May winced under the tone and few bystanders jumped and walked away from them.  

“Too pissed to make it worth, got it.” May mumbled quickly raising her hand.  

“Alright. We meet back at the transport hub within the hour and no leaving the sector got it?” Fiona asked. May smiled and gave a thumbs up. Winter laced her hands behind her back and nodded.  

As they started walking in separate directions Fiona’s ears twitched. She could hear Winter whisper, “How do we know we’re leaving a sector?”  

“… I didn’t even know there were sectors.”  

Fiona tried not to groan and drag them along with her. The pair were adults. Huntress-in-training. They’ll be able to figure it out themselves. Even if Winter’s famous face and May’s carelessness made them targets…  

No it was a bad idea. With a small noise of complaint Fiona turned around to see a crowd of dull greys, blues, and browns. The Schnee and Marigold was gone. Fiona just hoped their tendency to stick to each other continued in Mantle.  

“Focus, Thyme!” Fiona mumbled slapping her cheeks. Now was the perfect chance to repay them for all they’ve done for her. Winter didn’t need to throw around stupid amounts of lien to get Fiona’s supplies. May didn’t need to rough up the ignorant students harassing her. She would will finally be able to help her team. Fiona’s ears perked up with renewed energy and she marched down the street to her first destination, “Police Academy.”  

It was almost comforting to be in a place with so much rules and structure. The Police Academy was the former Huntress Academy before the Great War, so there were many similarities. The biggest difference was due to the lack of funding. They didn’t have hard-light lamps and banners decorating the walls but at least there were no visible signs of age.  

Many students just passed by Fiona, apologizing because their finals were approaching and had no time. The few that did stop to talk to her held themselves very similar to Atlas Academy standards.  

“For how much lien?” They’d ask again and again.  

“… None,” Fiona was nearly speechless every time, “I’m from Mantle, I get how hard is it. But if you could help spread the word that would be much appreciated.” The police students wished her luck and took her number to share with friends. As the minutes ticked closer to an hour, Fiona’s ears started falling lower and lower.  

But the last one… Maybe she should have dragged Winter and May with her.  

"You expect strangers to risk their lives for over a publicity stunt gone wrong? For free?" The police student asked, towering over her with their arms crossed.  

Fiona felt a snarl flinched onto her face before she could stop it. The student was only mildly surprised but did flinch at Fiona’s yell, “Publicity stunt?!”  

"You have two of the biggest family rivals on a team with you. A Faunus," the student said. Fiona could feel her heart beating so hard in her chest it shook her body. “How about a cut of how much they’re paying to make them look good? Must be a lot of lien if your still in Atlas-”  

Fiona turned. She kicked open the doors and stormed down the steps in a haze. Is… is that what everyone thought she was… Thought of Winter and May?!  

“Aaggh!” Fiona nearly pulled out her hair as she walked out of the gates. Then she was looking at her reflection in the screen of her Scroll. She wanted to call them, tell them about the rumors in Mantle but… knowing May, the women would run down here and beat up the student.  

They… They didn’t deserve that. Fiona dropped her face into her Scroll with a sigh. Fiona did think the same thing when she first met May. The rich girl who tried a little too hard to be nice to the point it was a little awkward.  

Another rich snob wanting to look good.  

Then May punched their expelled teammate in the face. The pair was very secretive so Fiona had to piece it together with cryptic clues and maybe someone forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. May was just happy to be herself. Fiona wasn’t worried about the Schnee pretending to be fake for bonus points. It took a few months to figure it out but the way she acted towards May and gradually Fiona herself… Winter wasn’t nice in the conventional way. Eventually the Faunus learned the Schnee just… didn’t know how to be warm. Even her smiles towards May was guarded.  

Fiona felt tears pricking her eyes again. Her hopes were as burnt as the smoke the factories put out. Winter, May. Those… idiots! If only they didn’t come from rich cold families, if only everyone wasn’t a shallow, mindless follower… “Why can’t things be easy for once in my life!” Fiona kicked a small rock, trying to calm down. She watched it bounce around until it hit a dog’s nose. It yelped in surprise and the owner jumped a little too.  

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” She instinctively reached out for the dog but pulled her hand back to double check with the owner. She looked up… and up. A giant woman with green hair only smiled kindly down at her.  

“It happens… well no. That’s a first but don’t worry about it,” She said with a laugh. “Lil’ Tank will probably forgive you with a few pets and kisses.” Fiona tried not to pout and huff. Little for her… If Fiona knelt down that would make the fully grown Akbash taller than her. So she only bent over and pet their head.  

“I’m sorry Tank. I’m just having a bad day,” Fiona mumbled. The dog seemed to understand because they licked her hand in a possibly comforting gesture.  

“Or month. I doubt things were easy after your leader’s outburst.”  

Fiona’s eyes darted back up and up to a kind and awkward smile. Slowly Fiona could feel her face heat up, ears twitching as she remembered the recording she watched earlier. Winter was constantly stopped and recognized around Atlas but they always ignored Fiona.  

She was really wishing she brought her elites right about now. The panic must have been pretty obvious on Fiona’s face because the giant women stepped back a little and seemed to shrink on herself.  

“Sorry! It must be really weird…” The stranger mumbled, scratching the back of her head. Fiona nodded a little. How did Winter deal with it? “I’m uh, I’m Joanna Greenleaf,” the giant said with a hand out stretched.  

“Fiona Thyme- But, you already knew that.” Fiona mumbled ears flinching down. Joanna’s smile calmed her nerves enough for Fiona to actually shake her hand.  

“So, Ms. Thyme, what brings you back to Mantle?”  

Fiona looked up, charred hope flicking back into embers. She carefully looked at Joanna. Tall, from the way her coat stretched across her shoulders and biceps she was rather built. If she’s from Mantle meaning she most likely knew how to defend herself and possibly knew how to use a firearm. She didn’t look like a civilian but Fiona didn’t exactly look like a huntress-in-training. Even in uniform.  

And she nearly decked out a stranger for pre-judging people.  

Fiona took a breath. The worst that could happen is that Joanna bad mouths her teammates, Fiona defends their honor, gets locked up for assaulting a civilian, and Winter pays bail.  

“I’m looking for a substitute so me and my team can take Atlas’ combative final.”  

Joanna looked a little surprise, eyes brows slowly raising. The thought rolled around in her head enough for them to miss the light to walk across the street.  

“I… I think it’ll be better if you find someone much more confident than me.” Joanna said. When Fiona started deflating the women spoke quickly, “B-But I think I know a person who’s willing to do it! Robyn Hill, my roommate!”  

Fiona’s ears perked up again, wiggling around happily as a smile grew on her face. Joanna laughed ruffling Tank’s head, “Would you like to meet her? I think her shift at the Gym ends soon.”  

“Yes, please!” Fiona said with a small bounce. She followed Joanna across the street, small strides doubled to keep up with Joanna’s longer ones. She pulled out her Scroll and sent a quick group text to meet up at the address.  

The pair of elites were usually prompt with replies. Family upbringing emphasized good impersonal communication. She was a little worried when it took nearly the entire walk for May to reply.  

lionflower: give us a minute lionflower: or ten  

Fiona frowned. Her steps slowed and so did Joanna’s.  

happywool: ??? why??? lionflower: running. explain later happwool: okay… @angeldust you okay? angeldust: lmao  

Winter did not use abbreviations. Fiona stopped and stared at her Scroll… If it wasn’t May it could only mean it was a stranger. If a stranger got a hold of Winter’s phone in Mantle that only meant she was pick pocketed.  

“Ugh! I know I shouldn’t have let those rich idiots out of my sight!” Fiona scowled. Out of everything that could have been stolen, it has to be the Schnee’s Scroll. An apparently unlocked Schnee Scroll.  

“Uh… is there a problem?” Joanna asked.  

“My idiot teammates got pick pocketed and the angry one is texting the thief,” Fiona explained. She angled the phone up so Joanna could read it.  

lionflower: WHERE ARE U?! angeldust: u and the white one ran past me like 5 times :p lionflower: when i get my HANDS ON U IMMA THROTTLE U angeldust: kinky <3 angeldust: i think ill use this username as a safeword  

Joanna threw her head back and laughed. “Seems pretty friendly for a thief. Have you tried asking for it back?”  

Fiona frowned and stared at Joanna for a real suggestion. When the giant and her dog raised a brow Fiona sighed and looked at her Scroll.  

happywool: can you please return the Scroll angeldust: hhmmm. Tell the cute blue one to stop screaming and the white one to drop a few lien here  

There was a picture with the message, taken from the rooftops and zoomed in to show May, red in the face and hunched over her Scroll. Winter was standing at her side, eyes scanning the crowd for the thief and posed to run after them. An arrow was drawn to an alley on the opposite side of the camera.  

Lionflower: CHEATER Angeldust: :p Lionflower: Fine. We’ll be at your location soon Fiona. -Winter  

Fiona tried not to laugh. It was rather obvious who it was from the grammar alone. The sheep Faunus nearly screamed when a heavy hand patted her shoulder. She looked up at Joanna who gave a thumbs up. Fiona… may have forgotten she was following her to meet a potential fourth member.  

“See? Asking nicely works wonders,” Joanna said.  

“I think my teammates were extorted,” Fiona mumbled following the giant women and her giant dog again.  

Joanna shrugged, “The information on that Scroll is probably worth a lot more than pocket change.” Fiona nodded but couldn’t help the frown on her face.  

A thief got hands on a Schnee’s Scroll and just… hand it over? It couldn’t be that easy. There had to be a trick but- Ugh. Fiona ruffled her curly hair. Focus on the current problem! Substitute teammate. May and Winter were adults who should have listened to her! They can deal with it- are dealing with it!  

Joanna cleared her throat. Fiona blushed, remembering she was in the middle of a busy Mantle street and shoved her hands into her pocket.  

“So… Which one is the angry one?” Joanna asked. “May or Winter?”  

“To be honest… they’re both pretty hot headed,” Fiona admitted. She winced, “But at least Winter thinks first, usually,” She added the last part after remembering Winter’s speech. “You think that’d be a deal breaker with your friend?”  

“Robyn is… I think they’ll get along.” Joanna winced at her own words, “Eventually? Robyn can’t be worse with what you’ve already dealt with.” Fiona frowned and glanced at her Scroll.  

angeldust: Scroll received. No sign of target. Moving to next location.  

Fiona already decided to deal with the racism if it meant May and Winter they still had a chance of passing their finals.  

May and Winter would physically disagree.  

The Gym was… a retrofitted speakeasy or just a very large basement. Paper targets were hanging along the back wall and donated chairs and tables were scattered closer to the counter and stage. Fiona ran up to her teammates loitering by the entrance.  

May’s chest was heaving, face a little flush from her run. Winter was a little out of breath but double checking everything on her Scroll. From her rather calm and a little shocked expression, everything seemed to be untouched.  

“So… does the princess still need protecting?” Fiona said with a rare smirk aimed up at Winter. May snorted, too tired to hide the laugh while Winter only stared down at her. A little too tired to play angry but still not sure how to laugh.  

Joanna wandered to the bar, handing Tank’s leash to another person in exchange for a handful of lien. Then she exchanged a few words with the platinum blond barista with a gesture towards Fiona and her teammates.  

Fiona quickly averted her eyes, hoping her staring wasn’t too obvious. She looked up at Winter and tilted her head, “Everything good?”  

“To my knowledge, yes,” Winter said with a frown. “The thief only had a few minutes with my phone, not enough time to bypass the security checks for more sensitive information.”  

“That’s good,” Fiona said. She bit her lip a little scared to ask the next question. “How much lien did you lose?”  

Winter gave a rare and extremely small smile. “Me? None. My father’s company on the other hand…”  

Fiona sighed. She really wish these rich girls were a little more careful. But hopefully the thief wouldn’t need to steal, at least for a little while.  

“Fiona! Uh… Ms. Marigold. Schnee, ma’am…” Joanna mumbled. Fiona gave the large women a smile. It was awkwardly adorable how she tried to shrink herself. She didn’t seem to know how to act with the Atlas elites. Instead she stepped behind the barista.  

Fiona stepped in front, trying to smooth things over for the gentle giant. May and Winter could be rather intimidating alone but it seemed to triple when the pair was together. “Everyone, meet Joanna Greenleaf and Robyn Hill?” Fiona asked.  

“Correct, lambchop,” The barista with violet eyes and two moles smiled.  

Fiona blinked at the nickname. It wasn’t said with malice but after all the harassment any animal puns stung a little. Fiona could deal with it, her teammates on the other hand… Fiona quickly looked at Winter and May. The overprotective idiots shifted, just half a step in front of Fiona with vicious scowls up at the women.  

Joanna groaned, elbowing Robyn a little hard. Robyn only shrugged it off and tried to diffuse it with a smile, “What? It’s a compliment, she looks cute enough to eat.”  

Now May took a full stepped forward. Fiona tried to grab her and had to push Winter away to do so. May stopped her advance but Fiona could feel the light shiver of rage.  

“Was that supposed to be a pick up line?” May asked. Voice sharp and pointed like the rapiers Winter wields.  

Robyn crossed her arms, that easy but arrogant smile finally dropping, “I’m gonna have to say no. My pickup lines usually work.”  

“Robyn…” Joanna hissed under her breath, “You recognize them don’t you? The team that got their fourth member expelled after winning the tournament?”  

“Of course I do!” Robyn waved off Joanna’s concern again. That easy and arrogant smile returned. It fanned Winter and May’s anger a little more. “What they don’t realize is they’re looking for their only option.”  

“An entire city full of people and you’re the only option?” Winter said with a scoff. Somehow the Schnee manage to look down at the taller women, something about the power and confidence she had made her seem bigger. “I’d rather have someone smart enough to know the difference between confidence and foolishness.”  

“How about someone humble enough to apologize and to admit their wrong?” Robyn quickly said.  

“An apology doesn’t matter if we don’t give a shit about what you think,” May quickly stepped in again. The first line of define like always. Fiona sighed and shoved her way to the front, physically pushing back her elites. “Fiona! This bitch-”  

“Ouch. Names, liontail.”  

“You’re not helping!” Joanna and Fiona scolded. Robyn flinched a little but did relent and step back to deescalate the situation. Fiona pushed her teammates back a little more for good measure. “She’s right,” Fiona said.  

“We only spent an hour asking around,” Winter argued. She then closed her eyes, trying to hide a sliver of shame and embarrassment. “Admittedly… some of those minutes were spent chasing a thief around…”  

“And we’re gonna have to spend a few days to convince Ironwood to give a civilian a pass,” Fiona gently argued. “Ignorance and bad habits doesn’t make someone a bad person.”  

At that the tension finally melted from Winter and May. The rich girls grumbled and fumed. “Only a fool would limit their options,” Winter pressed again.  

“Alright, we’ll spend a few more hours looking around but we need to find someone so we can start training.” Fiona said. It took a few seconds for the hot heads to see reason but they eventually gave in and nodded. Fiona and her teammates walked up to Robyn and Joanna.  

“We’re keeping our options open. We’ll give you two a call if we need to ask you a few questions,” Fiona said.  

Joanna looked a little panicked. “But I said I’m not-”  

Robyn clapped her hand on Joanna’s back, “Give yourself more credit, Jo! You’re just as skilled as I am.”  

“Hopefully it’s enough,” May grumbled under her breath. “We just need you to pass. Other students will probably want to fill in the fourth spot once this entire thing blows over.”  

“Ideally,” Winter agreed quietly.  

A tense stare down passed between the three. For a Mantle Rat against two Atlas Elites, Robyn didn’t budge. She held her chin high and matched their arrogant glares.  

“Do all Atlesians suck at making friends?” Robyn quipped.  

Before May or Winter could respond Fiona started pushing them to the entrance. May grumbled and fumed, Winter simmered in silence. Under the loud the bustling city, Fiona barely heard Joanna scold her roommate.  

“This is your best shot at getting into Atlas Academy! It’s literally handed to you on a platter Robyn.”  

“I know but it’s never this easy!”  

“We’re from Mantle. It’s never easy.”  

Fiona frowned staring at the backs of Winter and May. She dealt with their arrogant ass for two years and ended up loving them. Having a Mantle version of the two might be nice… or it might drive her crazy.

[the-busy-ghost]

TSP S02E06 Thoughts

Ok I’m late to the party today so I assume everyone has commented on most of this already and therefore I was just going to quickly sum up any other observations. But I’m only twenty minutes in and I already have SO MANY THOUGHTS

- Apparently Cardinal Wolsey is not allowed to speak to anyone now and if he does this is Suspicious. But since Katherine isn’t exactly talking to her daughter either, tbh Henry is actually quite fair to be all ‘Why would you care’.

- When Henry gets all bitchy towards Wolsey re: the chancellorship, both Wolsey and Katherine’s poker faces should be a reaction image. 

- Poor Mary at least she has Margaret Pole

- Ok I would love to go back in time and save all the historical infants from an early death if I could but I STILL don’t understand how the Duke of Ross is still alive. Poor kid should have left the scene six years earlier. AND STILL NO MARGARET DOUGLAS. While I’d like to be hopeful and assume that @glorianas hatesex idea is going to pan out, tbh with the way they’re developing Angus’ character I worry this will be another badly handled r*pe scene, IF they bother to add Margaret Douglas’ birth in at all.

- Smol James is Smol. I would die for all of the children in this show. Protect them at all costs.

- But anyway who tf is ‘Hal’ Stewart. I might be wrong (I haven’t read every source ever) but tbh ‘Hal’ is not a common abbreviation of Henry in Scotland- Harry (Harrie) is much more common as a form of Henry, and is indeed the nickname that Margaret’s third husband was commonly known by. Sadly, ‘Hal’ just makes me want to snigger and make ‘England and St George’ type speeches (though even in that line, tbh, it’s Harry not Hal). “Hal Stewart” sounds like he should have a handlebar moustache and say ‘jolly good’ and fly spitfires. Or like he’s the descendant of expat Scots living in Canada. 

- I would be a lot more surprised that Angus is sneaking in and out of places if you weren’t all literally living in a very open house which would be very difficult to defend, I mean what do you expect to happen if you have obvious enemies, very few attendants, and you park yourself in HOLYROOD PALACE

- Cut it off Meg

- Oh wait so YOU’RE not safe there and your own children aren’t safe there but you’re perfectly happy just leaving James IV’s kids there? I should say ‘kid’ singular but I think we’re past waiting for the TSP writers to use google and realise that all of James IV’s other children are over the age of eighteen by 1520. But if Margaret DID have custody of them (which seems unlikely) she’s just dumped a young girl (maybe nine years old? We don’t know but that’s my guess) in a palace with her apparently shitty ex-husband and buggered off up to Edinburgh. Agnes Stewart come pick up your daughter please, don’t leave her here, or at least send your niece back to do it since she already knows the way

- Why are they even including so many offhand remarks bout James IV’s kids so much at all if they plainly don’t know anything about them? Is this ever going to be relevant to the plot? Or did they just want to have them in the first episode to show how ‘hard done by’ Margaret is but then realised they couldn’t just ditch them without losing the audience’s sympathy for her.

- Margaret getting the conveniently placed big old book on marriage law down from the shelf (every household should have one)- but really Meg, you must have seen enough shady divorces in 16th century Scotland to know the name of a good lawyer who could do this for you

- Once again though, does Angus have NO kinsmen or retainers any more? Or was he just cutting about the Canongate on his day off from Being Evil and thought ‘I’ll go check in on the wife then shall I, she’ll have Drink which is also now something I am to be associated with’

- I am LOVING the blatantly Georgian architecture at the gates to a very disappointing Field of the Cloth of Gold. Really TSP should have just gone full Reign and embraced its inaccuracies to make a fun teen show with a load of ridiculous modern dresses, would have been more bearable than this

- I would like to address however, the fact that this show has been going on about how terrible it is for princesses to be married off to older men all season, but what are we now supposed to root for four-year-old Mary to be betrothed to the much older HRE, rather than the dauphin who is MUCH closer in age? Can the writers make their minds up? Who are we supposed to think is in the right?

- Wee Mary’s face when Katherine spoke to her for the first time- that’s probably the first time the kid has ever heard the fancy queen lady actually talk to her though, so I’m not surprised but genuinely it was quite funny.

- Someone save this child please.

- IS THAT CHARLES V- WHY IS CHARLES V HERE?? GOD IT IS JUST UNINVITED GUESTS GALORE THIS EPISODE

- Also I may be wrong but I’m pretty sure he can’t just ride across France to get to the English Pale with only a couple of attendants and w/o a safe conduct or any other notification that he’s coming? This is just Margaret Tudor riding unattended through the Borders all over again.

- Gotta love Katherine just producing him out of nowhere though, the writers really do not care about the holes they dig themselves into but the implication that Katherine can just summon emperors whenever she likes is fantastic (does she keep him in a box??)

- Katherine about the horse- “He’s trained to kill a man with a single kick”. Don’t even hesitate Guerrero, you have four legs and there’s apparently three sixteenth century kings in the area, go to town

- Charles V just buggering off again, fading into the background like he was just Katherine’s own personal imperial amazon delivery man

- Have they decided to have the Evil May Day in 1520? Why?

- *Henry and Francis approach* *Theme from the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly plays*

- FUCK WOLSEY’S DAVID ATTENBOROUGH NARRATION REALLY MADE ME LAUGH, CHRIST I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING

“What a magnificent sight, two kings meeting for the first time, this rare species, almost never seen in daylight, both approach the watering hole...”

TBH I think their coordinated bow should also have had some narration Wolsey, if you really want Attenborough’s job after him. But it’s even funnier because they both genuinely looked so awkward stepping slowly towards each other, I just can’t

- Henry’s been buying his crowns from the same Burger King Autumn Range as Chris Pine in Outlaw King I see

- FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT PLEASE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER I GENUINELY THINK THAT WOULD BE FUNNY I HAVE SEEN POSH BOYS FIGHTING THEY’RE TERRIBLE BUT IT’S REALLY FUNNY

- Pfft Wolsey’s evident panic is funny but I would like to copyright Stafford’s little eyebrow twitch where he’s obviously thinking ‘Let me hold your coat Henry’

- Katherine of Aragon following at a slower pace while Claude gives her a sideways glance is also mildly amusing, like KOA could not look less bothered. I know the wrestling was historically accurate but honestly Henry and Francis being all aggressive like they’re actually willing to kill each other when I bet they just get outside and hug weirdly is probably going to be hilarious.

- Once again Maggie, please take that child and RUN

- I was right, it IS funny.  Please Wolsey we need more Attenborough narration for this fight.

- Everyone standing around occasionally clapping awkwardly and looking vaguely unimpressed is like what would have happened in Bridget Jones if Hugh Grant and Colin Firth’s fight scene wasn’t soundtracked.

- Yeah so the wrestling was accurate but tbh I’m not sure that Henry staggering out of the ring looking like James II right before a stabbing is. In my experience if a ginger monarch in tights is wearing that expression you run, no matter who you are. 

[our-time-is-now]

May 13, 2019: I want you to be more important to him than running away

(previous play)

(Joint project from @riddikulus und @shakshuka-grandpasweaters, translated from @girlwholovesagirl, @divingdeepintothewater, @m-ger and @julerocks. Here is the timeline and the link to the original blog @unsere-zeit-ist-jetzt. If you would also like to help translate, please contact one of us.)  

Monday, 4:30 pm:

Matteo: *came back home an hour ago* *took a shower and put on a fresh shirt* *wanted to throw his clothes in the laundry, but then smells at his hoodie which still smells so wonderfully like David and puts it on again* *knows that the boys wanted to come by at half past five and was just thinking about making some food when he hears the doorbell* *goes to the intercom and hears that it’s Jonas who says that he wanted to come by earlier* *buzzes the door open and awaits him* *grins when he sees him* Hey… were you bored?

Jonas: *is supposed to meet the boys at Matteo’s at half past five but had some time before and was very curious what Matteo has to tell* *just stopped by earlier on a whim and was happy that he opened the door* *puts out a ghetto fist to greet him and then gives him a quick hug* *grins slightly* Yeah, that too. But most of all, I'm curious to hear what you have to tell. *looks at him for a moment questionly* It's okay that I got here earlier than planned, right?

Matteo: *laughs because Jonas has always been curious* Sure, come in... *walks with him to the living room* *has to wait for a moment because of course Jonas takes off his shoes* Do you already want a beer? *sees Jonas nodding and goes back to the kitchen to get two beers* *hands one to Joans and plops down on the couch next to him* *doesn’t really know what Jonas wants to know and what he is willing to tell*

Jonas: *grins pleased when Matteo invites him in* Nice... *comes in and takes off his shoes first before following Matteo to the living room* *doesn’t say no to a beer and puts his guitar into a corner* *sits down on the couch and accepts the beer Matteo is offering to him* Thanks… *waits until Matteo joins him on the couch and then stretches out his beer to toast him* *takes a big sip and then looks at him expectantly* *when Matteo stays quiet he asks* So since you stood us up Friday and apparently spent the night with David, I assume congratulations are in order? *looks at him carefully* Did you guys finally made it and are together now?

Matteo: *toasts with Jonas and takes a sip* *grins slightly and nods* Yes *sees Jonas’ look which clearly says “don’t let me tear out all the answers out of you” and sighs* Okay, well… you know he planned on coming back on thursday but then I got a message of Laura, his sister, that he didn’t came home… and well I went a bit crazy… and I went looking for him and tried contacting him… well yeah on Friday he got in touch and I went over and we… well, we talked and clarified a few things and… yeah that’s how it is. *nods slightly and takes another sip* *knows that this probably won't be enough for Jonas but leaves it for now*

Jonas: *beams when Matteo confirms that he is now together with David and shortly ruffles his hair* Perfect bro! I am so happy for you! *waits expectantly what else Matteo has to tell and is happy that for once he doesn’t has to tear all the answers out of him but instead he starts telling by himself* *only understands vaguely and asks again* What? He didn’t came home? Did he stay at his godmother’s longer or what? *understands that Matteo was worried and thinks its stupid that David didn’t get in touch with him until friday*

Matteo: *shakes his head* No he came back on Thursday… well to Berlin at least… he stayed in this run-down building, I think it once was some health institution or something like that… he somehow has this flight instinct… *takes another sip* There we had… well after we escaped from Abdi’s party we were there as well… I never thought he would be there until he sent me the message…

Jonas: *takes a sip while Matteo talks and frowns when Matteo talks about the run-down building* *nods slightly when he talks about the flight instinct* *shakes his head and has to ask again* He spend a whole night in an abandoned building!? Very spooky! *takes another sip* Do I get that right? You didn’t know where he was since Thursday and on Friday he sent you: I am here by the way… And you then went there? And then? *doesn’t get why David didn’t came to Matteo and why he didn’t tell him earlier where he is* *thinks it’s all pretty weird but holds back with comments*

Matteo: *just nods slightly at Jonas first question* *nods again* Yeah, well… actually I think he said goodbye… but he mentioned something and then I knew where he was so I went there… *shrugs* He was really miserable and thought he is alone anyway and… well… that’s why he didn’t contact me I guess… *looks at Jonas and tilts his head* Sometimes we just can’t accept help right away… you and I know that quite well…

Jonas: *widens his eyes when Matteo tells him that David wanted to say goodbye and interrupts him* To say goodbye?! To you or what?! Dude… *doesn’t likes that at all and snorts quietly* *can’t hold back anymore and it practically bursts out of him* Ey, Brudi, being miserable or not, but he could have known that you were worried! And saying goodbye… don’t you mean anything to him or what? If I understand you correctly then running away was more important to him than you? *frowns when Matteo tries to compare David to the both of them and shakes his head* Not being able to accept help immediately is something different than running away! You and me... we just occasionally needed some time... but in the end we've always been looking for a way to talk!

Matteo: *swallows slightly at Jonas’ outburst* No man, he was just… it wasn’t about me, ok? It was about everything else going on… *shakes his head because that doesn't sound any better either* Yeah, okay, it sucked.. but it all just came back for him after being outed by Stefan… what happened at his old school and all… *swallows slightly* He knows that it was shitty of him… and to be honest in this moment it didn’t matter to me… *hesitates for a moment to sort his thoughts and feelings and to decide what he wants to say to Jonas* I just wanted and want to be with him, okay?

Jonas: *wanted to ask what Matteo means with ‘everything else’ when he adds some parts* *is a bit sceptical and wants to add something but closes his mouth again to think first and takes a sip of his beer* *would like to know what happened at David’s old school but knows that Matteo would never tell him and that if at all he would hear about it from David at some point* *looks a bit surprised at Matteo when he says that all of it didn’t matter to him but begins to understand at his last sentence* *feels his heart burst a little bit when he realizes the extend of what Matteo just said an has to admit to himself that he doesn’t know Matteo that way - him really fighting for something he wants - but knows to well that he holds himself back* *however wonders to what extent "holding yourself back" is actually decisive when you get what you want in the end* *nods hesitantly and says* Okay. *takes another sip and adds apologetically* I didn't mean, and I don't mean to talk bad about him, okay? I just want him to appreciate what he has in you. I want you to be more important to him than running away. *looks at him questioningly and then carefully adds* I hope he's got the point!

Matteo: *nods slightly at his okay* Okay. *shrugs at Jonas’ statement* *can’t speak for David* *but then thinks back at the last three days and nods* I think so… *grins slightly at the memories and looks a bit lost for a moment* *looks then back to Jonas* I mean he is here now, isn’t he? *nudges him with his foot* Don’t give him the “I will kill you” speech immediately when he comes by later, okay?

Jonas: *nods hesitantly when Matteo tells him that David is here now and sighs quietly* The important thing is that he stays... *laughs and kick Matteo back a bit harder* Dude, what do you think of me!? *takes a sip of beer and grins* He won't get it until next week at the earliest... when he feels safe in my presence... moohar... *pretends a mean laugh, but then shakes his head* Just kidding! *then sits up a bit straighter and gathers himself* Okay, go on... you found him in this building and apparently found the right words... no, don't worry, you don't have to repeat them... and then? Did you drag him back to your place and you have...? *does some obvious sex moves and grins a bit dirty*

Matteo: *shakes his head but grins at the same time* I knew I could count on you... *had hoped that question time was over, but knows that it's not when Jonas sits upright* *shakes his head and kicks him again in his motion* Dude! *throws a pillow at him* First of all, it's none of your business and secondly, it wasn't here and with that the topic is closed!

Jonas: *avoids the pillow and laughs* *asks innocently* What?! *makes big eyes and says* Ohoo... you dragged him to his place and then you... *wiggles his eyebrows and protects himself in his corner of the sofa from any more possible kicks or pillows* *laughs but then eventually it gets serious* *sighs once and then sums up* So in summary: You've got it all figured out, and now you're one of those cheesy couples in love...

Matteo: *nods and grins big* Yep, that's it. We stand outside our windows and sing love songs all the time now and... um, I really don't know what else is cheesy... *laughs* Besides, we already got Carlos and Kiki for the super cheesy stuff... *then grins a bit meaner* Or some others who may find back together...

Jonas: *laughs together with Matteo* Yes, Carlos is very passionate in this role... *then sways his head back and forth as Matteo obviously talks about Hanna and him* Oh, come on... Hanna and I have never been cheesy... *leaves it uncommented whether they get back together or not* *has no idea if it’s ever going to work out between them anyway and is also unsure whether or not to take the initiative*

Matteo: *laughs* Sure… you and your guitar were never cheesy when it came to Hanna… *takes another sip of his beer* Is that the end of the question time? *sees Jonas nodding and hears the doorbell*

*Jonas laughs and says that there must be someone else who is curious* *Matteo lets Carlos and Abdi in, gives them a beer and but only tells them the short version, that he and David saw each other again on Friday and not Thursday, but that they sorted everything out and now all is good* So please guys, don't make a big deal out of it when he gets here later, okay? We'll just chill together, okay?

(next play)