#I liked dance and wanted to do gymnastics but I couldn't and was told to join the praise dance team

[gxlden-angels]

"The Lord loves a cheerful giver :)" I'll cheerfully give him these hands

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I'm ready for my injections," Holly told her boyfriend, Ryan.

"Good, you're becoming so obedient. I told you you'd come around eventually. You almost look eager."

Holly blushed, feeling the weight of her breasts hanging off her chest, already about twenty-five pounds each. Fifty whole pounds of pure breast. It felt absurd to her, so wrong, and yet inescapable. It was her new reality. "I'm excited to see them grow for you....."

"That's a good girl," he said, inserting IV needles into her breasts at various points.

Holly winced as her boyfriend injected her breasts with over a gallon of saline each. She remembered when she first met Ryan barely a year ago. He was so charming, they met at the gym and were both very passionate about being fit and healthy. She worked as a gymnastics instructor. Now she couldn't imagine trying to work her old job. The mothers would be horrified at such a huge-breasted cow of a woman trying to teach their daughters.

Soon into their relationship, Ryan mentioned having a big tit fetish. She thought nothing of it, what guy doesn't? Before long, she noticed her breasts were getting bigger and started lactating. He fessed up that he was drugging her water bottles, and apologized, but said he wanted her EE-Cup breasts much bigger. She was angry but as her girlfriend was still excited to please him and get bigger for him, despite not wanting large breasts.

Her breasts got bigger and bigger, impeding her ability to do gymnastics. Women began recommending she get a reduction or chop them off outright. Holly had to reluctantly admit her boyfriend was making her grow them out like this. His fetish consumed her life, made her lose her job, getting so bad she found herself becoming a living embodiment of his kinks. No longer Holly at all, just an object he acted on and molded into his perfect toy.

She gasped as the gallons of saline flooded her breasts, his new favorite means of torturing her. When they were done, her breasts ballooned to double their size, red and swollen, round and very taut like fake tits. He took out the needles and placed heart-shaped bandages over them to help keep her tits from springing leaks. This new way of increasing her breast size would ensure once the saline is absorbed her breasts would stretch, getting saggier, longer, emptier. Instead of being beautiful and full from the breast growth drugs, like a woman who's pumped out a dozen or so kids, her breasts would switch between extremely saggy, floppy and empty, and enormously round and heavy, filled to the point of popping with saline, heavy as two water coolers strapped to her chest.

Holly winced as Ryan tightened her leather straps and added the rest of her corrective harness, which looked a bit like bdsm gear, to help keep her back upright, pushing out her giant saline-filled boulder tits. Ryan smiled, smacking Holly's breasts, which made her recoil in pain. "It feels incredible when I hit them, doesn't it?"

Holly nodded, barely able to catch her breath. "Y-Yes.... Smack them all you want. They're yours."

"Good girl, but they're about to be all of Lower Manhattan's. I want you bringing in lots of money tonight, OK? Smile a lot, eagerly service any man, even the homeless ones or violent looking ones. I can't have you saying no to any clients. Don't worry, I'm taking my anti-STD pills every day so I won't contract all the bugs you're collecting. Oh, and if you don't mind, I want you whoring on the corner by your old dance studio, hopefully some of the moms and other women you worked with might get to see your new occupation. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Holly was blushing beat red. "B-But....."

"None of that. You don't have 'no' in your vocabulary. Now off you go!" he said, smacking one of her breasts again.

"OK.... I won't disappoint you."

"Good, otherwise I might have to paddle all that saline out of your tits when you get home"

Holly yelped as he spanked her, sending her out wearing only her harness and nothing else, to go enjoy her new occupation as a whore with giant saline-filled breasts. Which she slowly started to feel was exactly who she was always meant to be.

[iffeelscouldkill]

Grand Jeté (A Gwen x Miles ficlet)

A/N: Back in Into the Spiderverse fandom there was a headcanon I really liked about Miles getting into ballet (and/or gymnastics, but particularly ballet) to level up his Spider-Man skills, inspired by Gwen. I didn't wind up writing anything on it (though I had a whole fic plan I just discovered yesterday) but I thought it would be cool to revisit the idea for an ATSV ficlet.

This is a kind of alternate version of Gwen and Miles swinging through Brooklyn together, since it's not really designed to fit in with the film version. It's just intended as a fluffy little canon divergent scene! Enjoy ~

(PS: I'm not a ballet dancer; I did a bit of research for this fic but I hope there aren't any glaring issues! More notes at the end)

---

"I've got some new moves," Miles told Gwen, because he was eager to show her how far he'd come in the time they'd been apart. When they'd met, he'd barely begun to find his feet as Spider-Man (hell, he'd barely begun to *be* Spider-Man) and most of their interactions had centered around what he couldn't do. He wanted to show her that he could hold his own now, that he was more than just the overwhelmed Spider-newbie.

He couldn't say to her, You're an inspiration to me, but he could show her.

"Show me," Gwen said, and they were off, swinging across Brooklyn. A thrill rose within him to have Gwen back by his side, and everything else that had been horrible about the day - being late to the party, the cakes, his parents, the stupid Spot - faded into insignificance. He would overcome it, because he was Spider-Man.

Miles watched Gwen's movements through the air. When he'd first seen her in action as Spider-Woman, he'd been struck by her grace and precision, but now he had a whole new appreciation for what she was doing. He could almost hear his ballet teacher in his head, tone approving: Demi-pointe, glissade, grand jeté. Very nice form.

He could feel his own muscles stretching back into the familiar forms, waking back up like they did every time he warmed up, the stretch a faint echo of how he'd felt at the beginning, when everything was awkward and unfamiliar. Miles had almost quit multiple times, feeling like an idiot in front of a class of mostly girls, with the only other guy being white and also someone who'd taken ballet classes when he was little (he hadn't danced in years, hence the beginner's class, but it was obvious that it was coming back to him pretty easily). His teacher, Mme. Howard, had convinced him to stick at it.

"If you truly don't want to be here, you can stop; but I see a lot of potential in you, Miles Morales. And I think it would be a shame," she told him.

It was close enough to what his dad had said - about seeing a 'spark' in Miles - that the jeering, doubting voice in his head quietened down a bit, enough for him to push past it and keep going, getting some practice sessions in on his own where he didn't have to worry about what other people thought.

Also, when he started to get better at it, ballet felt really cool. And being Spider-Man felt cooler.

He and Gwen came to perch on top of the Williamsburg bank building and Miles exhaled happily. He could feel Gwen's gaze on him, and he did his best to act casual while also sneaking a glance out of the corner of his eye. Did she seem impressed?

"You do have some new moves," Gwen remarked, and yeah, she definitely sounded impressed (and a little surprised). Miles couldn't help the proud grin that overtook his face. "You've improved your flexibility a lot."

"I've been taking some gymnastics classes," Miles told her, because he had, and he enjoyed learning different things from both gymnastics and ballet, and thinking about how to combine elements of each while web-slinging. But he wasn't sure why he didn't just come out and tell Gwen that he'd been learning ballet. Suddenly, he was afraid she might laugh - not because he was a guy, but because it was obvious that he'd taken it up because of her. It felt like another embarrassing show of his heart on his sleeve - like the drawings in his sketchbook.

Gwen hummed, but he could tell that she wasn't quite satisfied with that response. "Some of those didn't look like gymnastics moves, though. I could have sworn-"

"What about you, though?" Miles blurted over her. "You've been adding some new stuff into your style, too. Also, your jeté is looking really-" His mouth snapped shut, but Gwen had already whipped around to stare at him. "Uhh-"

"I knew those were ballet moves you were using earlier," Gwen said. "Have you been taking classes?"

Miles ducked his head. "Yeah, uh, for about a year now."

"That's... really cool," Gwen said wonderingly. "Why didn't you want to tell me? You know I do ballet too, so I'm not going to think it's weird." Her tone turned teasing. "Or are you worried it'll ruin your image?"

"I thought you might-" Miles began and then broke off. Gwen waited, and Miles pulled himself together enough to admit, "I thought your style was awesome, with the dance moves. They had a ballet demonstration at Visions, and I realised I recognised the moves from you, and - I had the chance to sign up for classes. I wanted to learn how to do what you do, but I thought you might find it..."

"Sweet?" Gwen finished for him, softly. "Touching? One of the coolest things imaginable?"

Miles couldn't help laughing, his face heating up as he finally met her eyes. "Uh, yeah."

"Of course I love it, Miles," Gwen said, and Miles savoured the words "love it" in Gwen's voice, imagining she might have said something else instead. "I finally have someone to share my love of dance with. And now, when I practice... I can think about you doing the same."

Happier than he could remember being in a long time, Miles leaned into Gwen, and together they looked out over the city.

After a few minutes, Miles said in a low voice, "For real, though, I've got aches in muscles I didn't even know I had."

"Oh god, tell me about it."

--

A/N: I initially planned to write this as "you can read it as friendship or shippy" but then towards the end I went "fuck it, this is shippy" xD

Demi-pointe: A foot position in which the dancer has the weight on the balls of their feet with their heels off the floor.

Glissant: French for "sliding", a ballet step that can be used as preparation for jumps or leaps.

Grand jeté: A broad, high leap with one leg stretched forward and the other backward, like doing the splits in midair.

I'm not 100% sure these are all terms Miles would know after just a year of ballet, but let's pretend ;3

[sinful-roxy]

People keep asking me why I do things that I do In all of this measuring influence I forgot you You and me hiding behind the Monhegan Hotel And you told me things that nobody around me would tell That was the summer when everyone touched me at once One day they ignored me The next, they were all down my pants But you were in bed with me, safe, before anyone else You opened beside me And held me when I needed help You and me lying together at night in my room You've been inside me forever, Judy Blume I couldn't carry a tune but I thought I could sing No one had told me that thoughts were a good or bad thing But I started noticing grown-ups would smile and cringe You taught me that you could say anything you could think I don't remember my friends from gymnastics class But I remember when Deenie was at the school Dance, Buddy feeling her up in the locker room Margaret, bored, counting hats in the synagogue Davey was stirring the tea that she wouldn't drink Tony was watching his so-called friend shoplifting All of them lived in my head, quietly whispering You are not so strange I don't remember the details of seventh grade All I remember is lying and being afraid But I don't forget Katherine and Michael were going all the way Steph on the scale in the bathroom alone that day Karen pretending to puke so her dad would stay Margaret arguing with God while she masturbated All of them mixed up in my head like a love letter All of those saying: Amanda you know better You are not to blame The world's a frightening place So go on and think how you want You will not be alone with your thoughts Well you will, but you won't in a way 'Cause a girl thought it too in a book that the library bought

People will keep asking me why I do things like I do And from now on I'll tell them Nick Cave and I'll talk about you Judy, I can't believe sometimes that I'm an adult And the girls like I was think that I have this shit figured out You and me lying together at night in my room You'll be inside them forever, Judy Blume

[droshaoregon7]

James, the very best... and Lisa

I met James when Tashi was in 3rd grade, I think. I signed her up for just about everything by then, and nothing seemed to keep her interest. I had gone thru soccer, lacrosse, t-ball, dance, gymnastics.... I felt like I had tried everything when she mentioned basketball. Her brother, Jans, had been playing basketball. Tashi had never even picked up a basketball at that time, didn't know how to dribble and didn't understand the game. Anyway, we were at one of Jans' basketball game when I mentioned Tashi's interest to someone at the gym and he mentioned James to me and gave me his business card. Best thing ever.

I called James. He told me they meet at Waldorf in Milwaukie and to bring Tashi to a practice. Tashi was nervous, she had no idea what she was doing... at all. James was warm, he was kind, he was magical to watch. He was great with all the kids. Every single kid felt special and they were, to him.

Fast-forward, Tashi played varsity basketball all 4 years and went on to play college basketball at ACU. When she returned, she started helping James with elementary school kids that wanted to play basketball and then would meet him every Saturday to play pick up with a bunch of adults.

On Sunday, October 29, 2023, I received a call from Kristi, Justice's mom. She told me that James and his wife, Lisa, had been killed in a crash. The driver was arrested for manslaughter, later upgraded to murder. A vile 29 year old, who had been arrested twice before for other crimes, destroyed a family.

I had to go home and tell Tashi, then call Jandro. They sobbed. They both loved James so much.

I still feel gutted for them, my heart breaks for everyone.

James won Boys and Girls volunteer of the year, he touched so many lives and made every single person feel special and needed and wanted. James couldn't be James unless he had an extremely supportive wife sitting side by side. They will be forever missed.

James was telling me that he was going to start training Bubby this summer. I hate that Bubby will not have that relationship.

[infinite-wanders]

Never have I ever

... WORKED A MIRACLE

{A Daxton One-Shot for @eyedancer7a}

It had been 6 weeks since they publically announced their relationship at the winter dance, not that Devi was counting.

After many eventful double dates with Trent and Eleanor, and occasionally triple dates with Fabiola and Eve, today they were enjoying some alone time out of their houses.

Devi sat on the edge of the school pool, letting her feet dangle in the water. Paxton popped out a few feet infront of her, sending water droplets everywhere as he flicked the hair from his face.

"Care to join me," grinned Paxton.

"I, uh, actually have avoided being in this pool since-" Devi felt herself tense up at the memory.

Paxton could see her eyes welling up. "I'm such an idiot, I didn't even realise, Devi."

He rushed to the edge of the pool, and pulled himself up next to her.

"I just hadn't thought about it in awhile and it just hit me. Sorry, I'm fine really. It's okay."

She smiled at him sadly, his face still worried.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Paxton knowingly to not believe her.

"I've been able to manage to dip my feet in. It's silly. I'm scared if I jump in that my legs will stop working again. After I fell in at Ben's, the nightmares came back where I'm drowning, except I don't reach the surface and no one is around to save me. I figured if I keep them on land and they stopped working, at least I'll just fall over and hit the floor. I'm sorry. I can't believe I told you that. I haven't told anyone before," Devi rambled.

Paxton took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

"Devi, thank you for sharing that with me. I can only imagine how hard that was. You know what I admire about you? You are so resilient. You live your life unapologetically. You don't care what other people think. When you want something, you work so hard to get it. When I'm with you, you make me want to live like that to. Not many can say they were able walk again after three months in a wheelchair!"

Devi squeezed his hand tightly, and lay her head on his shoulder. She loved being able to talk openly with him, and his insight always left her warm. What she most treasured was the moments like now, leaving her feel heard in both spoken and unsaid thoughts. They sat comfortably in silence, taking some moments for their vulnerable words to sink in.

"Actually, Paxton," she spoke softly. "Working hard isn't how I was able to walk again so soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember being at the mall with the Hot Pockets? That time you were doing handstands on a children's caterpillar ride."

"Yeah, I remember that day, Trent ate a whole pizza in 3 minutes then barfed in the food court," laughed Paxton.

"Well, my Mom was putting the groceries away, and I was trying to see what you guys were doing. I couldn't see being so low in the wheelchair and the next thing, Mom was screaming and I was standing. It's like whatever was holding me back mentally had just gone away."

"So, what are you saying?" The way his forehead creased between furrowed brows was adorable as he put two and two together.

"I'm saying Paxton Hall-Yoshida, mister captain of the swim team, gymnast of coin operated machines, unknowingly works miracles too."

Devi felt herself melt all over as she looked up into his kind eyes. Both of them trying to hold back huge smiles at this revelation.

Devi continued on, "But seriously, you make me focus on the good in life. I don't know why, but I'm at my most calm around you. Dad was the only one who could calm me down when I was popping off. I am so grateful and I love you for that."

Devi body tightened as she realised she blurted out this long held secret.

Paxton took in Devi's wide eyes looking into his and could no longer hold back the smiles.

"Hey Devi, look at me," cupping her chin towards him. "Do you really mean it?"

At her nodded reply, Paxton's lips came crashing onto hers. She returned his intensity, causing Paxton to pull her fiercely towards.

As he tried to pull her upon his lap, they found themselves become unbalanced and now falling backwards into the pool.

The cool water brought Devi harshly out of her heated stupor. Her moment of panic dissipated quickly as she felt Paxton hold her tight around the waist, kicking his legs to keep them afloat and heads above water.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to pull us in. I guess I got overcome with emotion," he blushed. "Are you okay?"

Devi answered with a kiss as she wrapped her legs and arms around him.

They slowly made their way to the pool ladder so they wouldn't have to tread anymore. Devi sat on a rung, feeling she could be okay in the pool, while Paxton had his arms forming a protective barrier as he held onto the bars.

"You're not going to run away now are you?" Devi asked.

"Of course not, it's just... I wanted to be the one to say it first," Paxton chuckled lightly.

Her body alive with fire as his warm breathe tickled her lips. Now very aware of his proximity, she took in the way the water dripped from his wet curls and how his eyes flashed with such emotion.

Her heart exploded as he whispered the four words she'd only imagined in her dreams escaping his lips, "I love you, Devi."

[glitterge1pen]

Crayons Not Cigarettes

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,770

If you looked it up on google the descriptors were "small venue" and "sports arena" and "stadium". The place took roughly ten minutes to walk around, the parking lot was huge, and it had those bright white lights out in the front. The entrance was a bit grand, big pillars with dozens of different sports flags. Tons of different teams, tournaments, and practices were held here.

You were starting your part time job at the concession stands today. You had already gone through the training a couple days ago, all that was left was actually doing your job. You were hoping you had a good shift partner, that you didn't spill any drinks, that people would be nice to you.

Tonight there was a volleyball match, you decide the crowd was decent for thirty minutes before game time. The regular attendees stood in lines at the front gates, waiting to be let in. Walking up to the employee only entrance you struggled with your key card to get it open. This was exactly how your manager had done it on training day. There was only five more minutes before your shift started, you were starting to worry you might be late.

"Turn it over"

You whipped around to see another person standing right behind you. He had blonde dyed hair with black streaks, and his eyes doused in eyeliner.

"Oh, thanks"

You kinda mumble it out, embarrassed that this very cute stranger had to see you struggle opening a door.

"Do you work here too?"

You ask as you hold the door open for him.

"No"

You take his short reply as him saying the conversation is over. You still have to awkwardly walk next to him down the long employee corridor though. After a rather long pause he continues speaking.

"I'm a volleyball player. On game days we get to use the employee entrances and doors."

"Really? That's cool,"

Up further down the hall you can see where your paths will diverge.

"Well I hope the game goes well for you"

He says nothing, but does nod his head before leaving for the locker room area. You turn the other way to the employee office. Put your jacket and bag into a locker, clock in on the old desktop, and walk out to the counter to start your shift. Your shift partner isn't there yet so you begin setting things up at the booth alone.

You flick on all the machines, filling up the icee mixer with dyed flavors, a new pouch of cheese for the nacho dispenser. You unpackage plastic cups, open up different cupboards and drawers trying to familiarize yourself before you have to start serving people. You get change from the back, filling up the register. Finally your shift partner shows up. Just in time to because you start to hear the sounds of people entering.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your next shift was for a highschool gymnastics tournament. The concessions stand was in a large hallway between different gymnasiums, wedged between the gift shop and Subway. Since it was a smaller event you were the only one working the counter. Hardly anyone was buying anything though. The fan behind the counter gave a gentle hum, the music rather quiet amongst the sounds of people.

“You still got bottled water?”

It was that guy from your first day. You duck below the counter to grab a bottle, hand it to him and start ringing up the total.

“You guys won that game the other day, right?”

You knew they had won. You had spent your break trying to get a glimpse of the player who you had spoken to. You had only gotten to see him for a few moments, his body in the air, hand coming down on the ball sending it over the net in one fluid motion. After pulling the metal shutters down over the counter at closing, you had walked back to the courts to confirm the score.

“Yeah,”

It was here that another volleyball player came up to the counter.

“I told you that you could use one of my extra water bottles! You didn't have to go and buy one!”  

The other player turned his attention to you.

“Sorry that my scary friend is bothering you-”

“Scary?”

You asked confused, but he kept talking.

“I’m Konganegawa, me and Kyotani are both Sendai Frogs!”

Kyotani.

“Nice to meet you both”

You say.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani sat on the counter of the concession stand. You liked it when he was perched up there, he warded customers off fairly well. You were certain that practice had ended a while ago, but you said nothing in fear of sending him away. He didn't always say much, or anything sometimes, but his presence was comforting to you. Even if it wasn't always abundantly clear you could tell he paid attention to you, like he was standing watch.

He knew your schedule, what snacks to buy for you on break, what songs you liked best on your manager's store playlist. He had quickly become your favorite part of work. It didn't matter who you shared shifts with, if you had gotten swamped at the register, or if you had to mindlessly wipe the counters with boredom. As long as Kyotani was there work wasn't ever terrible.

“The team is having a get together”

You had been re-arranging the plastic utensils on the counter but stopped to listen to him.

“You wanna come?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“And you like Kyotani? Like you’d want to go on a date with him?”

Yamaguchi was teasing you, his voice trying to communicate how ridiculous he thought the notion was. You had quickly grown close to him after tagging along to a few of the Sendai Frog events. He came to every game and usually made an appearance at the concession stand to chat with you or you would find him in the stands. Today was one of those days.

“You are literally dating Tsukkishima”

Yamaguchi perked up in defense,

“They are nothing alike!”

“That I can agree on”

Both of you dissolving into laughs. Yamaguchi's face steadied and got more serious.

“You really do feel that way about him?”

He asked.

“Yes, I mean even when we first met I thought he was cute, and we keep hanging out more and more, and I just keep liking him more and more”

Yamaguchi looked ready to say something else when he stopped himself. You turned around, suddenly feeling another's company. Kyotani was right there, you wondered if he had heard anything you said but his expression betrayed nothing.

“You're on your break?”

“Yeah, what's up?”

He seemed, you couldn't find the exact word, but it was between dejected and bitter. You wanted to ask if he was okay but he spoke first.

“I thought you'd be watching the game”

“We had been,”

Yamaguchi said, jumping into the conversation.

“Yeah, the first set was just about to end, concessions is gonna be swamped when I get back”

You said, you trying to meet Kyotani’s eyes, to see if they would reveal anything to you but no such luck was granted.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You try to focus on the customers you have. A dance competition was in the big gym today, the entire place was packed. You hand out bags of popcorn, perfectly filled cups of beer to the brim. At one of the tables placed outside your stand is Kyotnai. He was practically stewing, his aura strong and unavoidable. He was making it harder to count out change and your eyes kept drifting from customers to him. He had been sitting there for a while. You thought that maybe someone else from the team would come drag him back to practice, but that didn't happen.

The last customer in line left, the competition having gotten louder, more intense, pulling people away from the food. That last customer was replaced with Kyotani’s scrunched up sulking, angry face. Normally you wouldn't call it sulking, just angry or annoyed, but he definitely had traces of sulking on him.

“A couple weeks ago,”

He got this part out fine, but the rest of his words came a little more quiet.

“You had been talking to Yamaguchi on your break during a game, who were you talking about?”

You don't know what to say. You stumble over a few words, none of them sounding right. He was so direct and challenging, you felt as if no matter what you said he would eventually pull it from you. You only managed to get one word out properly.

“Why?”

He didn't answer and this surprised you.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani stood under one of the lamps outside the main entrance. You thought you could see the outline of a  pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He didn't smell like smoke and you had never seen him do it before. You didn't move for a moment wondering if you could catch him smoking now.

“Hey fuckface! We going or not?”

Kyotani had spotted you and called out.

“Yeah, yeah”

You said rushing over to meet him. You could no longer count on your fingers how many times you had hung out with him. A couple of movies, lots of grabbing food after his practice or your shift, that time you found out he couldn't roller skate, that one trip to the museum. He had kissed one of the statues in defiance when you told him to stop touching things. Unfortunately for him that was the exact moment you had pulled out your phone to snap some pictures.

Today though he was tagging along with you to the store. You needed to pick a couple things up before going home. He had offered to drive. In the car, you recounted that day's incidents. A spilled soda on your pants, a customer yelling at you about their cotton candy, and getting scolded for coming in five minutes late.

“Why are you working there? Not that it’s bad, but you kinda hate it”

“Anyone hates working in a job where you have to give people food and wear a collared shirt, plus I don't hate it you're there”

That part about him wasn’t something you planned to say and you chose to ignore the seinement and keep talking.

“I’m just trying to save up money right now, I have other things in life I want, and you?”

You asked, at the light he stopped to look at you.

“What do you mean?”

“You just have volleyball brain, that's it?”

He hesitated here, it was brief but it was there.

“Volleyball brain is my diagnosis”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Once in the store Kyotani pushed a cart around while you led him up and down different aisles. You pulled off bottles of dish soap, a pack of clorox wipes. You were going to turn down to the electronics center to see if they had any cute phone cases you might want when Kyotani cut in front of you with the cart.

“Let’s go the other way”

“It’s faster if we go this way”

You tried walking past him but he didn't budge. You huff, and shoulder check him when turning in the direction he wants to go. This happens a few more times. You wanted to loop around to the grocery aisle when he insisted you lap the whole store instead of just cutting past the toys and books. You forgot to grab that extra phone charger you had been wanting and he wouldn't let you pass by the magazines to get it. In the end you had waited with the cart while he went to grab it for you.

When you were loading the bags into the back seat of his car he asked what you wanted to eat.

“You sure you want to go out? You seemed nervous in the store”

You say.

“I’m fucking hungry”

Is all he says, but you know he's trying to lighten the mood from the strange way he was acting in the store. In the car he lets you pick the music and roll the windows down.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It was a weekend morning and once again you were back at the store. You thought about the last time you were here a couple weeks before with Kyotani. Recently you have fallen into a type of rhythm with Kyotani. You spent a lot of your free time with him, with each other's friends, your lives were almost totally meshed together. More often than not people assumed you two were dating. Even if you wanted that to be true you were still unsure how he felt about you.

You had your basket and were on the way to the check out when spotted a book on display. Oftentimes you would send pictures of frogs and frog merchandise to the Sendai Frog group chat you had been roped into. Even if you weren't on the team you had officially been adopted into the group because “you work for home base!” according to Koganegawa. You picked the book up off the shelf.

They were the cutest drawings you had ever seen. They were simple and rough. Done in crayon which made them so charming. The title of the book was Frogs Go Ribbit! , if the display card was right this was the authors fourth picture book and so far the most popular. You opened up the first pages.

Frogs ribbit all day long

When they snooze and when they watch the morning news

Each frog had different types of music notes drawn coming from their mouth. Some frogs had bright colorful notes, one had notes that looked like plants and flowers, one had notes covered in flames. The one with flames had dark lines drawn under its eyes. It reminded you of Kyotani, if you weren't going to buy the book before you were now. You turned the page. Then snapped it shut.

At the movies buying tickets, during museum visits  

It was you. Sure you were a little crayon cartoon but that was you. It was you and a little frog that looked like Kyotani. That was your hair, your favorite pair of shoes. It was you and frog Kyotani in line buying movie tickets. You pull out your phone and scroll back in your photos to when you and Kyotani had first gone to the movies. It was even the same outfit. On the museum page you gasped when you realized who the other frog was.

Tsukishima's frog had glasses, a figure that was unmistakably Yamaguchi pointing in excitement at a painting next to the frog. There was no way it wasnt Yamaguchi and Tsukki. The green tufts of hair, you had helped him dye many times now so obvious. You and Kyotani were on the museum page as well. Kyotanis frog sticking its tongue out to latch onto a statue while you hit him on the head. Little yellow exclamations drawn around the point of impact. You flipped to the next page.

In the trees, on the court they ribbit, ribbit, ribbit! It fills their hearts!

There was a Koganegawa frog hidden in a basket of volleyballs. Tsukishima's frog blocking a serve from Yamaguchi with its tongue. Yachi was also on this page cheering from the stands. You were crouched down next to Kyotani’s frog patting him on the head, a doodle of a heart floating off him. The rest of the team was there drawn as frogs as well. Sure they weren't wearing jerseys with their numbers, there wasn't a Sendai Frogs banner, but that was them.

You flip through the rest of the book rather quickly. The book telling the tale of how frogs need to take breaks from their ribbits, how they need to eat well, sleep well, and love others. The page with the frogs eating had you feeding Kyotani a plate of flies. When you closed the last page and turned over to see who the author and illustrator were, all that was there on the front cover were the initials M.D. You pull out your phone from your pocket as you start grabbing as many of the books as you can. Your hand finding the contact you were looking for.

“Yamaguchi, you're never going to believe this but I think Kyotani feels the same way I do and you're also not going to believe how I figured that out”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: ahahahahah I don't know why this ended up so long BUT ALSO LIL FROG THAT GO RIBBIT. And here's the playlist that I listened to while I wrote; cherry sparkling water

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 1

Chapter: 1/12 Rating: T (for language) Content Warnings: Canon-typical Remus content. This chapter only: alcohol use Characters: All Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety, background Intrulogical (yes I played a little game of "pair the spares") Additional Tags: Hey it's the fic I published on Anon because I was embarrassed of how utterly pretentious it is!, post-PoF, sickfic, dirty poetry, humor interspersed with philosophy and Janus-typical pontification, this is VERY speculative and will get Jossed in the future lmao Summary: After claiming his place in the Light and coming face-to-face with the consequences of his actions, Janus finds himself unwillingly re-calibrating his moral compass. For selfish reasons, of course. But one apology snowballs into several, and soon he's running around the Mindscape with a low-grade fever and a guilty conscience as he desperately tries to regain some sense of self. Oh, and he's definitely not falling in love with Patton, so don't even bring it up. One Last Note: I wrote this in an ADHD fugue state. It is HEAVILY influenced by Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, but there are also references to poetry and various other works of literature. I also deliberately used symbols, themes, and motifs. Most of them are pretty in your face except for the recurring ouroboros, which is used as a symbol of rebirth. ...Told you it was pretentious.

When you wake up to the promise of your dream world comin' true With one less friend to call on, was it someone that I knew? Away you will go sailing in a race among the ruins If you plan to face tomorrow, do it soon

Janus appeared in the Dark side of the Mindscape, elation swelling in his chest. Even the ringing headache and bitter taste in his mouth couldn't hollow the unfamiliar triumph that warmed him to the core. Caught up in his own thoughts, it took a moment for him to register the sight before him: Remus, upside-down on the couch, his brow furrowed and face an alarming shade of purple.

For a moment, Janus stood stock-still as he tried to get his bearings. He must have been more flustered than he'd realized-- He'd been aiming for his bedroom.

But here he was, staring down at Remus, who was definitely going to burst a blood vessel (or several) if he didn't flip over soon.

"That's not horrifying at all," Janus said, thinking it would be rude to dismiss Remus, especially since he had probably been eavesdropping. He had likely heard everything. Everything. Even the ugly parts.

"Do you remember when Thomas read that post about Nutty Putty Cave?" Remus asked in a strained, strangled voice. "That spelunker who died because he got stuck upside-down?"

"No," Janus said, before realizing his mistake. "Yes." He definitely wanted Remus to remind him of the gory details.

"That's what I thought," Remus said with a wicked grin.

Janus sighed through his nose. Remus, though he thrived on attention, seemed content enough to continue his experiment by himself. On the other hand, if Janus didn't bring up a certain insult he'd levied at Roman, Remus most certainly would, and at a time where it would cause the most upset and turmoil. Better for Janus to deal with it now, even if he would have to fight the tension pulling his muscles taut. He wanted to dance. He wanted to scream.

Hesitation proved to be Janus' downfall, and by the time he'd opened his mouth to broach the subject at hand, Remus had beaten him to the blow. "You're not usually this quiet, Oralboros. Snake got your tongue?"

Janus, again, sighed. Rather than answer, he doffed his hat, set it on the coffee table, and clumsily arranged himself upside-down next to Remus. The change in position immediately made his head throb. He ignored it. "I definitely meant it when I called you 'evil'."

Remus' eyes widened in faux-shock. "You called me evil ?" he shrieked, voice ringing out high and clear. "Me? How dare you. I'm an angel!"

At least Remus was taking it well. "Sarcasm is my thing," Janus said, realizing that he might make it out of this without having to properly apologize.

For some reason, Patton's face flashed into his mind, and a subsequent twinge of guilt made his tongue go sour. Fine. If there was ever a time to start telling uncomfortable truths… "But I am sorry I said that."

"Wow!" Remus laughed. "You must be upset." A red stain began to spill across his left eye. "You don't apologize."

"It’s not like I care about your feelings or anything." Janus would have liked to have drawn himself up to his full height, but it was impossible to do while upside-down. "As much as I'm enjoying watching your blood vessels slowly burst, would you please turn over before you hurt yourself? I've suffered enough psychological trauma for today."

"Oh, fine." Remus kicked his legs and landed neatly on his toes like a gymnast.

Janus, by contrast, got his arms tangled in his capelet and nearly folded himself in half before he found his balance again. "I meant to do that," he said, turning to grab his hat so Remus wouldn't see the blush on his face.

The sudden sensation of blood draining from his head made the room whirl. He steadied himself against Remus' shoulder until it slowed somewhat, but nothing could dampen the horrible ringing in his ears.

"Well," he said, adjusting his shirt. The sudden appearance of his conscience had taken the wind out of his sails more than he cared to admit, and all thoughts of dancing bled out of him along with a good deal of energy. "I'm not going to go scream into my pillows until I tire myself out."

"Being an agent of chaos is hard work," Remus said with a sage nod, "but that doesn't sound very relaxing, Mr Self Care."

"It's a form of meditation, if you think about it," Janus said.

Remus made a face. "You know I don't do that."

"...Meditate?"

"No, think."

"Ah. Well." Janus made only a token attempt to hide his fond smile. "Good night, Remus. Please stay up late and injure yourself."

"Can do, Snakeypoo.”

Janus turned. It was close enough, he might as well walk to his bedroom, especially considering how well his last attempt at appearing in it had gone.

The reason why that had been so difficult became apparent in mere moments. Janus froze in the hall and dropped to his knees at the giddy wave of horror and delight that made him too light-headed to stand.

He knelt in front of the empty stretch of wall where his door had been previously.  Heat flooded his face.

"Jay?" The rounded toes of Remus' boots appeared in his line of sight. Janus zeroed in on them, the mud splatters and stains on the soft leather. "You have an aneurysm or what?"

Janus, unable to speak, motioned for Remus to turn around. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Ohhh," said Remus. "Well. Good luck with that ." He hauled Janus to his feet. "So you're a boner fide good guy now, huh?"

Janus stared over Remus' shoulder at the empty stretch of wall where his door used to be. "That depends entirely on who you ask."

Remus shrugged and rose up on his toes. "You can scream into my pillows instead, if you want."

"As tempting as that is…" Janus trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the wall. It was tempting, despite the constant chaos in Remus' room. But he'd have to face the Light side sooner or later. It wasn't like he could move his room back, not without psychologically damaging Thomas and undoing all the work he'd done. "I'm really looking forward to getting insulted some more."

"Alright," Remus said with a shrug. "Try not to throw me under the bus this time, alright? Unless it's a real bus…" His gaze became dreamy, unfocused. "And it's doing 50 in a school zone and there's a whole pack of screaming kids in the crosswalk--"

"Goodbye, Remus." Janus turned and left.

--

The barrier between the "dark" and the "light" sides of Thomas' brain had been a joint venture. It would have been there in some form no matter what, but it was Janus and Roman (with Patton's tacit blessing) who had worked to put up something more physical between them.

Janus ducked under the red curtain, trepidation percolating in his stomach, but what he found on the other side was anticlimactic to say the least: It was dead silent on this side of the barrier.

Janus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. He knew by now that the so-called "Lights" had issues working out their interpersonal issues, and this most recent conflict wasn't the kind of thing you just got over. It did follow that they would all go off to lick their wounds for a time.

Hesitantly, toe-to-heel, Janus crept down the hall. It felt for all the world like he was sneaking around a vast hotel, right down to needlessly ornate design on the plush carpeting. That was probably Roman's doing.

Janus focused, trying to call the Mindscape to work for him. He wanted to go to his room.

The Mindscape listened. Janus turned a corner and found a row of doors stretching down yet another brightly-lit corridor. His eye was immediately drawn, not to the brilliant yellow of his own door, but to the figure huddled in front of it: Patton sat with his arms wrapped around his legs, forehead resting on his knees.

"Looking for someone?" Janus asked, slightly louder than necessary.

Patton jerked his head up. "Oh! Janus!" He plastered an unconvincing smile on his face. "You sure pop star-tled me."

Scaring Patton hadn't brought Janus nearly the level of schadenfreude he'd thought it would. He crossed his arms over his chest, extending a third to help Patton up. "Take your time getting to the point.”

"Oh." Patton accepted Janus' proffered hand and got to his feet. Warmth spilled from him, permeating the fabric of Janus' glove and gently heating his palm. "Well, it's just…" He took a deep breath. "I noticed your door and I thought-- Well, I wanted to make you feel welcome!"

A high-pitched tone resonated in Janus' skull. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing at the mounting pressure-pain-exhaustion in his temples. "Aren't you just a saint ." Patton's face fell. Janus fought the urge to swear aloud. He usually had a better handle on himself, and he knew better than to alienate potential allies. "I mean, thank you, Patton. Truly. I appreciate it." Patton had proven himself useful. Janus should at least cultivate that relationship, even if it meant a little discomfort.

"Have you eaten?" Patton asked. "It's a little late, but I could make something if you wanted." He paused. "Maybe we could play cards or something." Another pause. "O-only if you want to, I mean."

Janus let his face remain impassive even as he internally cringed at the idea of staying awake for even another second. It would be so easy to brush Patton off with a few honeyed words and disappear beyond the barrier of his door. But Patton had stood up for him today, or at least he'd tried to. Janus sighed. Quid pro quo. "That sounds like an utter waste of time."

"Are you… I'm sorry, sometimes I can't tell when you're…"

"Yes, Patton. That sounds lovely."

Patton actually hopped in place, an adorable little jig that absolutely didn't send a confusing little shockwave of fondness through Janus' ribcage. "Really?"

"Really," Janus lied.

He followed Patton down the hall into the living room, which opened into the dining room and the kitchen. Janus studied his surroundings, trying to take in as much as his exhausted faculties would allow. Even in the absence of other Sides, the living room felt warm and welcoming. All the lights were on, and they bathed everything in gentle golden light .

"You're awfully quiet," Patton said.

Janus shook himself. "I was just getting my bearings."

"I guess you've never really been over here, huh?" Pattton opened the refrigerator. Was he actually going to cook , instead of just manifesting something? How quaint. "Do you like grilled cheese?"

It had been a long, confusing day. Doublespeak came to Janus as naturally as breathing, but he was obviously running circles around Patton even when he wasn't trying to. "Yes," he said, hoping to telegraph his sincerity by not emoting at all.

It seemed to work. Patton studied him for a moment before turning back to the fridge. "Then that's what I'll make."

Janus took advantage of this temporary distraction to clamber onto one of the barstools. The slick velvet of his capelet tended to disagree with surfaces like wood and vinyl, and he needed a moment to arrange things so he didn't look as unbalanced as he felt.

He watched Patton work in the kitchen, a detached coolness washing out the scene. Quid pro quo, he reminded himself when he felt his facade begin to slip. He owed Patton this.

He certainly didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt, that he had been the one to orchestrate this breakdown. Yes, the Light Sides had loaded the gun, but in the end it was Janus who had pulled the trigger.

He shook his head and thought about playing cards, good Bicycle playing cards with holes punched through them like they'd come from a casino. "What should we play?" he asked, pulling the deck from his breast pocket.

Patton looked up from the stovetop, his eyes flicking to the cards in Janus' hand. "Do you know Kings in the Corners?"

"Not personally, no."

Patton laughed, but there was something cold about it. "It's really simple," he said. "I'll show you how to play and you can tell me if you like it."

--

It was nearly impossible to cheat at Kings in the Corners. Janus doubted this had been a calculated measure on Patton's part, doubted he had the capacity for that kind of foresight, but he respected it just the same.

They played in funereal silence, staring each other down across the light wood of the dining room table. Janus, ill-inclined to take off his gloves, utilized a napkin to keep from staining them with melted butter from the grilled cheese Patton had made. Neither one of them smiled. Neither one of them spoke.

Janus pulled a card from the deck to indicate the end of his turn and glanced up at Patton. His face was somber, almost sorrowful, and it clashed against the gentle domesticity of the dining room, with its floral table runner and mismatched placemats.

Janus started to laugh.

"What is it?" Patton asked, cheeks darkening. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Janus swallowed down another peal of laughter and cleared his throat, unable to wholly restrain the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look like I’m holding you here at gunpoint." It was somewhat ironic, considering Janus was the one who felt like he couldn't leave.

"What?" Patton smiled, but it was more akin to an offering than an expression of joy.

"It’s not really funny. " Janus wasn’t quite sure how to make Patton understand.

Patton sat back with a sigh, placing his cards facedown on the table. "But I guess it is pretty funny, huh? In a really sad way."

Janus almost asked what was sad about it before realizing that Patton probably missed his friends. Instead he said, "Yes" and stifled a yawn behind his free hand.

"I'll make coffee!" Patton leapt to his feet and was off to the kitchen before Janus could so much as blink.

The newfound solitude made it that much harder for Janus to ignore his headache, which had only worsened in the hour or so he'd been playing cards with Patton. Despite the nonchalant facade he'd tried so hard to project, he'd been holding himself tense.

Maybe the night (or morning, at this point) would be easier to tolerate if he had, say, a bit of gold rum.

The corner of a flask dug into Janus' hip. He smiled.

"Just how late are you planning on staying up?" he asked Patton when the latter returned holding two mismatched mugs.

"Oh, I don't know," Patton said. Lied. He set a mug down in front of Janus and then resumed his seat, the cards forgotten by his elbow. "I'm… A little scared of what tomorrow will be like."

Janus eased the flask out of his pocket. "Rum?"

"Oh, um," Patton said, staring at the flask. "I don't know…"

Janus raised an eyebrow, working something out. He landed on it a millisecond later: Patton wanted to be convinced. Easy enough. Janus opened the flask and poured what he hoped was a shot into his own mug. It was black, he noticed, except for the yellow snake that wrapped around it, its tail firmly in its own mouth. Ouroboros. "Surely you don't intend to make me drink alone?"

As Janus had expected, Patton buckled the second he was pushed. "I guess not."

It was funny, Janus mused as he carefully tipped rum into Patton's coffee, how lying was only off-limits when Janus suggested it. Hilarious.

But now wasn't the time for bitterness, now was the time to repay the debt he owed Patton. "Cheers," he said, pocketing the flask once more.

"Cheers."

Janus sipped his coffee. "You put milk in this," he observed.

Patton's smile was surprisingly sly. "I know you want me to think you take it black. Virgil did too, at first. I know you ‘Dark Sides’ have an image you like to uphold."

"And how does Virgil take his coffee now?" Janus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"With Snickers-flavored creamer."

"Well, I do take my coffee black," Janus lied.

Patton's smile never faltered. "We'll see, kid-- Uh, Janus."

"Patton," Janus said, before he could start thinking about the implications of Patton wanting to call him 'kiddo,' "you are planning on sleeping tonight, aren't you?"

"Maybe eventually," Patton said, suddenly unable to look Janus in the eye. "At some point."

"Tomorrow will come whether or not you sleep. It's definitely better to pull an all-nighter and feel like garbage instead of facing everything with a clear head."

"I know." Patton leaned forward so he could rest his head on his hand.

For a moment, Janus was tempted to mirror him. Sitting up straight was becoming quite the chore. "I know how the others love a calm, rational discussion."

"Oh, I wish." Patton's expression turned wistful.

Janus stifled a yawn behind his hand. He had half-expected the coffee to counteract the depressant effect of the alcohol, but all he had to show for the combination was a racing heart.

"I'll be fine out here if you want to go to bed," Patton said. Without seeming to realize he was doing it, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his thumbnail.

It was a tempting offer. A day ago, Janus would have taken it. After all, it wasn't like he cared about Patton outside of professional courtesy. They weren't friends. But guilt nagged at him and wouldn't let him entertain the idea of abandoning Patton for longer than a second.

"That's a remarkable impression of a window," Janus said, waiting for Patton to look confused before elaborating, "I can see right through you."

"You got me." Patton smiled sadly. "That's something I've always admired about you, Janus."

Now it was Janus' turn to be confused. "What?"

"You're so… clever."

Janus narrowed his eyes. "Please do keep trying to change the subject."

"It's just… I don't want to have to lie there and, and think about today and everything I did wrong. I hurt Thomas. I hurt my friends." Patton's eyes were shiny behind his glasses; the unshed tears sparkled in the light when he locked eyes with Janus. "Aren't you going to think about the same thing?"

Anger flared, perhaps prematurely, in Janus' chest. "About what you did wrong today?"

"About what you did wrong," Patton said timidly.

"I," Janus said icily, "didn't do anything wrong." He stared Patton down across the table, jaw set, daring him to push back. Let him lecture and nag, let him prove that he hadn't changed no matter what he said.

But Patton only nodded, his face lined with misery. "Okay," he softly. "I think you're right, Janus. We should go to bed."

Janus thought about how much faster he could get to bed if the table was cleared, and all the dishes and cards vanished in a blink.

"Um, Janus?" Patton said.

"Yes?"

"I don't regret everything that happened today."

"Oh?"

Patton only nodded and sank out.

Janus made a beeline for his own room; better to find his way there on foot rather than risk appearing in the wrong spot.

Once inside, he looked around to ensure nothing was amiss, eyes roving over the dark wood of his bookshelves and desk, his mirrored closet doors, the leather armchairs across from his bed.

Everything was exactly as Janus had left it. He nodded, satisfied, set his hat on the nightstand, and sprawled out of top of the covers without bothering to further undress.

One hazy thought crawled to the surface of his mind before he fell asleep: At least he wouldn't be one of the regrets haunting Patton tonight.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Rayla did screw up the mission but not because she didn't kill Marcos. That's something that she couldn't control. But she did lie about it afterwards and let Runaan bind his assassins to a mission doomed to get them all killed. I think everything would be better (for the assassins) if she just had told him the truth. She was too afraid to disappoint him and that got people killed. Do you think she learned her lesson about lying?

From a mission standpoint, Rayla did screw up by not killing Marcos. She had control over her own actions when she chased him down. She chose to spare him, and that was the more empathetic choice. She could’ve broken her own heart a bit and killed him anyway, but she didn’t. And that says something good about her. She loved and respected Runaan and she very much wanted to avenge her parents, but she chose not to push herself so far in pursuit of that vengeance that she lost herself. She could have. She didn’t.

But about lying: Yeah, anon, that was really bad for the mission, too. Runaan can adapt to things pretty quickly, but only if he knows there’s a problem. And with Rayla lying to him, he didn’t know there was a problem to address until after he’d bound everyone to a mission that was already compromised.. i’m still grumpy that he was fooled by that berry juice, come on dude

If Rayla had told him the truth before the binding ritual, he might have been able to adapt to a more effective plan. But no matter what he tried, the humans would know that assassins were coming. If they waited a day, a month, tried to attack in transit, if they all went in full daylight like Rayla did... the humans still know the assassins are coming. There’s only so much you can do to get around that, binding or no. Unless, idk, you find a way to ghost the humans’ memories or something, who knows. But that’s probably not an arrow in Runaan’s quiver. (Can you imagine, though, the six assassins doing some spooky memory dance together in that grove under the full moon to make everyone forget them, and then just walking into the castle invisibly and taking the king? Woah.)

I really lay this whole “failure” of Rayla’s at Runaan’s feet, though. He took someone so inexperienced that she didn’t even understand the heavy weight of the binding ritual until it was too late. She was too afraid to admit her failure when five other lives were on the line--including her own mentor’s. She couldn’t comprehend the stakes, and she couldn’t evaluate her own choices properly. Imagine if you took a 15 year old kickass paintballer kid into actual combat and asked them to make real choices that lives depended on. I bet they’d have similar struggles to Rayla’s.

And for all Runaan’s faith in Rayla’s abilities, there’s one thing he hadn’t yet taught her to do on the fly: tactical improvisation. Rayla does improvise, but only to hide her fault. She has no plan to distract Marcos from reaching the castle or to capture him alive or anything. She has no plan to maneuver Runaan’s awareness around her failure and onto a Plan B of her own design. She has nothing to offer but her lies. Runaan and Tiadrin can both adapt under stress, but Rayla’s young and inexperienced, and because Runaan just expected her to carry out her kill order, he probably didn’t see the need to train her in the kinds of mental gymnastics he’s used to using as the squad leader. 

Rayla’s issues with lying are tied to her fear of failure and her struggles with perfectionism, which are things she’s picked up as a Moonshadow child in her culture. Runaan being “the most Moonshadow elf ever” doesn’t help, either. He thinks he’s doing a good job by setting a perfect example for her to follow, but all she sees is unattainable perfection. Ethari helping her out only creates a bit of tension between her dads. So yeah, Rayla’s got issues with illusion vs reality, and that’s a bit Runaan’s fault, too.

I think having Callum in her life is helping Rayla accept her own flaws and imperfections. He acknowledges her hard work and her progress, but without setting any goal for her to achieve. He just loves to see her grow, as opposed to Runaan’s intense instruction and high expectations. Even when he acknowledged that she’d reached them, she still struggled to accept his word on the matter. Callum only expects Rayla to be Rayla. So while I don’t really frame it as “learning a lesson,” I do think Rayla’s going to be more comfortable telling the full truth, or even important parts of it, than she has been in the past, when things go wrong, specifically because of Callum’s unconditional love and regular verbal and physical acceptance of her.