#and they’re completely unwilling to improve because they’re ‘doing their best’.

[sheryl-lee]

.

[aressida]

Old entry: "If you are unwilling to QUESTION your beliefs, how will you know that if you are following the truth or lies?" - Aressida. 9.4.19.

This one question: “What do I know for certain?”

That is tremendously powerful. When you look deeply into this question, it actually destroys your world. It destroys your whole sense of self, and it is absolutely meant to be. You will not even try, very likely unless you move forward; you will be lacking the sense of certainty that allows you to tap the deepest capacity that is within you.

Here is the rule: Do not ever be ashamed of something you like or believe in. Write about what you believe, above all else.

Change is inevitable. No matter how personal and spiritual evolution yours is, it will always be seen as a betrayal by those who value you. There is nothing more spiritual than being free. Look into yourself and examine your reactions to persons and situations, and you will be appalled to discover that the prejudiced thinking is behind your reactions.

Here is some amazing quotes:

1) “So the universe is not quite as you thought it was. You’d better rearrange your beliefs, then. Because you certainly can’t rearrange the universe.” – Isaac Asimov.

2) “The authentic self will never lead you to believe that you have anything to defend, prove, or be puffed up about because your true identity is not determined by what your ego or the world has to say about you” – Dennis Merritt Jones. 3) “I went deep inside myself. I had time to explore my beliefs and because of that I’m stronger.” – Bob Marley.

That is all I want in life: for this pain to seem purposeful.

Freethinkers are those who are willing to use their minds without prejudice and without fearing to understand things that clash with their own customs, privileges, or beliefs.

Why do I have to defend myself, my beliefs, and my morality?

If you raise your standards but do not really believe you can meet them, you have already sabotaged yourself…

Why “Truth” is a secondary consideration to everyone else? I mean this is the very reason we get into arguments.

I am doing the best that I can for my family and friends.  I am going to keep working hard and one day our situations will improve. Truth always withstands scrutiny. Always question everything and please do your research properly.

Your beliefs create your reality. Changing your reality is both simple and easy – Follow some new beliefs. Seriously limiting yourself that will not help at all. It helps to acknowledge the limits of your capabilities.

A life that you make it is easy to forget that. Remember everything you think you know about the world, is based on assumptions, beliefs, and opinions. You are the way you are because that is what you believe about yourself.

This shape every action, every thought and every feeling that we experience. As a result, changing our belief systems is central to making any real and lasting change in our lives.

To have a state of openness and trust is Faith. The attitude of Faith is to let go and become open to the truth, whatever it might turn out to be.

Hey take a think about this one – Six months from now, you can be in a completely different space, mentally, spiritually and financially by simply to keep on working and believe in yourself.

The most direct thing that I can say to you is to not believe your mind. And you will need to learn to shift your focus from the mind to the Heart, which means affectionate awareness and stillness.

“If your beliefs are telling you, “I’m fat. I’m ugly. I’m old. I’m a loser. I’m not good enough. I’m not strong enough. I’ll never make it,” then don’t believe yourself, because it’s not true. These messages are distorted. They’re nothing but lies. Once you can see the lies, you don’t have to believe them. Use the power of doubt to challenge every message that you deliver to yourself. “Is it really true that I’m ugly? Is it really true that I’m not good enough?” Is this message real, or is it virtual? Of course, it’s virtual. None of these messages come from the truth, from life; they come from distortions in our knowledge. The truth is, there are no ugly people. There is no good enough or strong enough. There’s no universal book of law where any of these judgments are true. These judgments are just agreements that humans make.” – don Miguel Ruiz and don Jose Ruiz, The Fifth Agreement.

Your mind may not like you doing this at first but with some time and patience, and more than a little love, your mind’s reactions to the old beliefs crumbling will become less and less troubling. It is your goal to justify your beliefs in a rational and meaningful way.

[thepetitepiper]

Bakugo in BNHA chapter 362

BEWARE: Spoilers under the cut!! If you have not read chapter 362, do not keep reading!

I want to take a moment to discuss Bakugo’s death in chapter 362 of the BNHA manga. Specifically, I wanted to analyze the irony of his death and how it highlights that, despite the character growth he's experienced in the series, he still never fully overcomes his biggest character flaw and toxic attitude which is ultimately what gets him killed.

Bakugo bullied Izuku due to his own inferiority/superiority complex, but also claimed that Izuku’s attitude and need to be a hero despite being quirkless would get him killed. Also, like Izuku, Bakugo wants to be a hero and to “go beyond” like All Might. Essentially, what Bakugo claimed would get Izuku killed, is how Bakugo dies. In my view, not only is this ironic, but it further reinforces the motif of Bakugo projecting his own issues and insecurities onto others.

Throughout the series Bakugo learns from his past mistakes and improves his ability to work with others. For example, rather than breaking others down to feel superior, he turns his need to be the best into a motivation for self-growth. He works to elevate himself rather than cutting others down. Unfortunately, his inability to let go of this need to be the best is the character flaw that leads to his downfall (unless/until he is brought back). 

For example, during the battle, Shigraki’s taunts get to him. In fact, just before his death, AFO (through Shigaraki) describes the heroes they’re fighting as “extras” (this would include Bakugo), the same word Bakugo uses. Bakugo is being reduced to the same level as those he has bullied in the past, an “extra”. So, although Bakugo can’t hear AFO’s thoughts, he is certainly feels like an extra. Even while the pro heroes are struggling just as much fighting Shigaraki, Bakugo’s sense of inferiority kicks in. In fact, before Bakugo makes his final attack, he notes that he may never be able to surpass Izuku. 

Bakugo: “This is the path you had to walk, yeah? So Izuku...Can I still catch up to you?” 

Bakugo is about t die and his answer to this question is clearly ‘no’. The same fear of inferiority he has held since childhood when comparing himself to Izuku is still possessing his thoughts and actions. He is STILL unable, if not unwilling, to accept not being number one and/or superior to Izuku. Thus, he throws himself into a kamikaze mission, certain to fail, because...why? Because he can’t surpass his childhood friend? Because he might as well go out as a hero in a blaze of “glory”? Because he wants to buy Izuku time? Bakugo is smart. He should know that no attack he can deliver will wound Shigaraki enough to be substantially successful or buy Izuku a significant amount of time, and he certainly seems to accept that this final attack will get him killed.

No doubt that this is one of the most painful ways that his character could have died, especially for Bakugo fans. Not only did his death seem useless in the grand scheme of defeating Shigaraki or aiding Izuku, but his death achieves exactly what Shigaraki wanted: Bakugo's death in order to provoke and/or break Izuku in the fight. Also, Bakugo’s death happens before his arc feels truly complete. In fact, this is one reason his death bothered me despite my reservations towards his character’s development. By dying now in this manner, Bakugo never fully comprehends the problem with his toxic mentality and he never faces consequences for his previous actions.

I apologize if this seemed like a bit of a rant or somewhat unfocused, but this is what crossed my mind while reading the chapter.

[findingmyselfatm]

Venus-uranus because I love this generational planet

Venus-uranus combines the themes of venus: love, beauty, affection, romance and self-esteem with Uranus': rebellion, break of routine, innovation, genius and uniqueness. Venus-uranus are unconventional people in their relationships, and definitely interesting individuals.

Anything Uranus touches becomes a place of novelty, a place where you are unique and don't confirm.

So with venus-uranus, love, affection and self-esteem are tied to the new and unconventional.

The people with these aspects have a strong relationship with excitement in their social lives. They're also unique themselves in partnerships.

Their type may be uranus-like. Intelligent, innovative and someone who doesn't let standards stop them from being themselves.

I noticed that people with venus-uranus also might express their affection in strange ways, not the typical bringing you flowers. Their love language varies, but I think it definitely centers around exchange of ideas, since these people need mental stimulation in their relationships.

I sense that venus-uranus could show affection through memes? I have multiple friends with such placements that do this.

Their self-esteem is tied to how "unique" they are, but not in a "not like other girls" way. They value what makes them stand out, what is special about them, what core traits define their identity and if those traits align with what they want inside (I have uranus in the 1st, so couldn't relate more)

Since Uranus is a generarional planet, I think venus-uranus people are somewhat humanitarian.

These people are definitely magnetic too.

I've seen these aspects interpreted as flighty and non-committal. I think this is mostly true for undeveloped venus-uranus, but non-committal applies to some extent for all of them, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Since venus-uranus is focused on the excitement and novelty in their relationships, they could drop the ones that feel boring and stale (depending on other aspects of course).

Venus-uranus can also have some problems adapting to social norms (I will get to this to the individual descriptions for each aspect).

There is big possibility they're extroverts, or at least introverts that go wild when they feel comfortable. F.e: scorpio venus sextile capricorm uranus. Alone, these placements are introverted, but after you get to know them (and they like you-), they become more open, and scorpio's dark veil drops down.

They may be good at giving random gifts?

These people could have unusual interests as well! A unique music or art taste, maybe food too. I sense they might be drawn to science, astrology, tarot and divination. Very creative.

ALSO, venus-uranus might not like the idea of traditional marriage. They may not marry at all (this doesn't mean the lack of relationships).

Venus conjunct uranus merges the two planets together. This brings novelty to their social lives, it can create a constant feeling of freshness (if not, these people can become rather bored-). They are dynamic and open-minded in their relationships, but also inflexible when it comes to their moral/innercode. Inclined to experiment romantically and or sexually, venus conjunct uranus could indicate towards being queer (just an observation, don't take this literally lmao).

Venus trine uranus is an easy aspect and things go smoothly. These people are open-minded just like venus conjunct uranus, social and have a creativity off the charts. They can also have a community attitude, a little less so than venus conjunct uranus. The danger here is taking advantage of the trines's talents. Open-mindness and search for excitement can turn into a flighty and uncompromising attitude.

Venus sextile uranus is a positive asoect too, more low key than the trine. It makes someone amiable and intriguing, easily liked. The aspect brings excitement to their social life, and make them open to new experiences.

Venus square uranus is a harsh aspect. The square puts the planets at odds with each other. Love, affection and self-esteem do not cooperate well with rebellion and innovation. While very magnetic and probably open minded, these people get the dark taste of venus-uranus. They might be inclined to avoid commitment, and rationalise their emotions too much in love. The person can also be unwilling to compromise their individuality in relationships (which is good, but if overly done it sabotages the relationship, you cannot have one if the people involved are kept apart). They could feel like partnerships take away their freedom. I sense there is a bad image of marriage with this aspect as well. To deal with this compromise must be made. With a lot of introspection and communication (because venus relates to others, if it were for example mars square uranus, the difficulties would be found more internally), venus square uranus can cultivate their talents (don't mean to scare y'all, everyone has squares and they will forever need improvement).

Venus opposite uranus makes the planets completely in conflict with each other. Love, affection and self-esteem are against innovation and rebellion. This can make someone take one side and excessively develop it. If it's venus, the person may give up their individuality for others. If it's uranus, they are overly individualistic. The key here is to find common ground, see what satisfies both parties and get the best of both worlds.

As an ending note, venus-uranus are very pretty aspects in my opinion. I generally love anything uranus touches lmao, but with venus it's more of an unexpected combo :)

Thanks for reading!

[turnaboutyandere]

Hi, I love all of your works! Can I request Yandere Miles Edgeworth with a snobby S/O? Thank you!

TW: Controlling behavior, delusional mindsets, drugging, invasion of privacy, kidnapping, stalking.

[Miles Edgeworth]

♟ At first, Miles doesn’t really pay attention to the more snobby parts of your personality. Having just started a relationship with you, his main focus is on the sheer joy he feels at finally being able to call you his, and on doing his best to keep you safe. So for a while, he simply ignores your sometimes rude behavior.

♟ However, the longer he’s with you, the more blatant it becomes. It starts out small at first, with the occasional, seemingly harmless comments about what someone is wearing or where they’re shopping. He always brushes them off as just little observations, where you’re just pointing things out for the sake of it, all while failing to notice the subtly judgmental tone in your voice.

♟ Then, it starts becoming more obvious. With how protective he is, he’s bound to look into the people you associate with, just to make sure there’s no shady characters in your life. And what he finds is that the vast majority of them have wealth and/or a high status. He also notices that the few people in your life who have neither are the ones you interact with less.

♟ But the most telling thing, and the one that finally makes him see your true colors, is how you talk about him. Initially, he was very pleased that you spoke so highly of him, but then he realized how you only brag about everything but his character. His job, how handsome he is, how much money he makes, what he wears - all things he believes shouldn’t matter in a relationship, and yet they seem to be the only things you like about him.

♟ Once the realization hits, he finally starts noticing all the other questionable things you do that he’d previously overlooked. Your high opinion of yourself, the way you act kind towards others but then speak ill of them when they’re not around, how you generally refuse to associate with people that don’t “meet your standards”, the fact that you value money above all else, etc.

♟ He feels like a complete fool for not having noticed sooner, and berates himself for letting his love blind him. He thinks back to all the positive traits you’d displayed in the past, and wonders if perhaps they were little more than part of a façade. Just the thought of it makes him uneasy.

♟ So, he decides to confront you about it. You are, of course, very defensive at first, completely denying his claims until he brings up every instance of your snobby behavior. Once he has you backed into a corner, you realize he’s unwilling to back down, and you make a promise to try and be better. Miles is relieved when he hears this, and assures you that he’ll be here to help you because, to an extent, he understands where you’re coming from.

♟ After that, he begins keeping a very close eye on you and the way you behave, and is surprised to see that you’ve changed almost overnight. No more catty comments, judgmental looks, annoying bragging, none of it. It’s like you’re a completely different person and Miles is so proud of you for it. In fact, he almost feels like he can finally put his worries to rest. Almost.

♟ It’s not long after you start showing signs of improvement that he also notices how you’re becoming more and more emotionally distant from him, and with it comes a heavy feeling of unease. He’s certain that something’s wrong, but whenever he brings it up, you always brush off his concerns. So, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

♟ And it’s pretty easy to do, really. All he has to do is give you some sort of small accessory, like a ring or a necklace, and you happily accept it. But unbeknownst to you, he had a bug planted inside, all with the intention of recording and listening in on your private conversations. He never thought he’d have to stoop so low, but he feels he’s run out of options. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for him to get the information he wants.

♟ A few days after he gives you your gift, you inform him that you’ll be going out with some friends on your day off. This piques Miles’ interest, so he decides to listen through that morning’s recording while he’s at work, should his schedule allow it. Sure enough, he finds some time to just sit down and listen, and what he hears leaves him gobsmacked.

♟ The conversation starts out normal enough, with you and your friends exchanging pleasantries before each of you begin discussing the recent goings-on in your lives. When the conversation finally shifts to you, you start complaining about something that happened at your job, before one of your friends cuts you off to eagerly ask about the little accessory he’d given you.

♟ You take to bragging about it at first, but when someone comments that Miles “sounds like a great guy”, your tone completely changes. You scoff at their words and tell them he’s anything but. You begin complaining about him, your voice harsh as you explain that he’s been nothing but “annoying” and “controlling” recently. But the worst part comes when you’re asked why you’re with him, and you admit it’s because of his status and money.

♟ The recording ends shortly after that, but he can’t bring himself to listen to the rest of it. He’s far too stunned to do anything besides sit there and try to process what he’s just heard. And when he does, the shock fades and quickly turns to anger. Miles becomes absolutely furious.

♟ How dare you do this to him. You’ve insulted him, used him, played with his feelings, and lied straight to his face, all while he’s been nothing but kind and understanding towards you. He almost doesn’t want to believe it, but he can’t deny the truth when the evidence is sitting right in front of him.

♟ And he’s not sure what to do, either. Now that he has the information that he does, going back to the way things were would be impossible. He could always confront you about this, but he can’t imagine a single scenario where it wouldn’t end horribly. If he goes through with it, he’ll also have to fess up about the bugged accessory, and that would certainly lead to you breaking up with him. So, that’s out of the question as well.

♟ Then, it hits him. An idea that had previously crossed his mind several times, but not one he ever’s dwelt on much. Perhaps it’s because the very thought of it frightened him, or because he knew that it was too drastic of a measure to take. But now, after all that’s happened, he can’t help but think that perhaps it isn’t such a bad idea after all...

♟ You come home later that evening just as you said you would, clearly put off by the fact that Miles is home much earlier than he normally is. But he’s quick to brush aside your concerns and suggest that you sit down to have dinner together. That also seems to put you off somewhat, as he rarely makes dinner without you nowadays.

♟ Nevertheless, you push aside your concerns and the two of you sit down to eat, just as he had planned. It’s not long into your meal that you mention feeling unusually drowsy, which Miles dismisses as fatigue to keep you from becoming alarmed. Soon enough, you can barely keep your eyes open, and it’s not long after that that you pass out mid-conversation.

♟ It’s then that he makes his move. He had already set everything up when he came home from work, and now all that’s left to do is restrain and lock you away. He tells himself, over and over again, that you brought this on yourself, and that he has no other choice. He can’t risk having you leave him, and if talking things out won’t get you to change your disgusting behavior, then... He’ll simply have to use more forceful methods.

[stonefreeak]

OH WOW, LOOK AT THE TIME. AHAHAHHAHAHAAAAA... oops?

Anakin can't believe what he's hearing and seeing. He can't believe that the investigation really would find something on Palpatine. The man has been nothing but devoted to the welfare of the galaxy for years! There's no way that he would do something like this. There just isn't.

Just then, something Palpatine said to him comes back with a vengeance. "Well, I know my innocence, so I feel that I have little to fear… Unless, of course, someone has tampered with evidence or files to implicate me, of course."

He feels cold, shudders and shivers running through him and immediately it's as if a hand is holding his throat. Not squeezing, just holding there, like a threat, making his throat feel clogged and his breathing speed up.

Could someone have interfered with the investigation and planted evidence against Palpatine? It is possible that all of this is a sham of a trial, held on false evidence? Palpatine suggested the possibility after all, surely that must mean that he suspected he might have a political rival willing to stop at nothing to smear him?

... It... It can't have been Obi-Wan, can it?

All of this began with Obi-Wan, after all. Obi-Wan took over Palpatine's position, ousting him from office without a shred of remorse. Obi-Wan locked himself in his room after that Senator had suggested it... Was he plotting something? Working on how to make his plans proceed even as he pretended that he was just an unwilling Jedi Master being put in an impossible situation his sense of duty wouldn't let him ignore?

Because... Obi-Wan was the one who confiscated Palpatine's possession and it was Obi-Wan who started this infernal investigation in the first place! Maybe he planted information while he did his "research" into Palpatine's conduct?

Maybe... Maybe this has all been a bid for power and Obi-Wan's been lying to Anakin all along. Maybe that's why he hasn't given up his place on the Jedi high Council or his place as a High General of the GAR.

Pressing his palms against his eyes, Anakin grits his teeth and breathes harshly through his nose, trying desperately to get it together. Is it really possible that Obi-Wan would do such a thing?

... He would if the Council ordered him to. But that... that doesn't make sense either, does it? Why would the Jedi want to be in charge of the Republic anyway? There's nothing in it for them, not really.

And the only thing Obi-Wan's really done since coming into office is being a stabilising influence on the political scene, start investigations he doesn't participate in, and send laws out to be deliberated on by groups of senators without his presence. Padmé has said all of that, has talked at length about what good she thinks Obi-Wan is doing in the Senate.

But... What if... What if...

He pulls his hands away and straightens, suddenly feeling the way Padmé's hand is rubbing his shoulder. He glances up at her, but her eyes are still trained at the screens.

There's a smile on her face. She looks pleased. There's a light in her eyes and Anakin can tell that she thinks this is right, that she doesn't harbour any sort of suspicions against the investigation.

But... But it all fits so neatly together. It makes sense that Obi-Wan would have set everything up.

Except then, like lightning from clear skies, he remembers something incredibly important, something he had overlooked.

Senator Mandai is a Naangni from the planet Haa'ndu.

All Naangni are impervious to Force suggestions.

There is no way Obi-Wan could have influenced her into doing what she did, not unless he did it entirely without the Force. But that would have taken time and effort, and Obi-Wan had been off Coruscant almost as much as Anakin had before that session ever happened.

It's as if a huge weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he almost wants to cry.

Obi-Wan hasn't orchestrated all of this in some mad bid for power.

It's such a relief to realise that he'd simply jumped to conclusions that Anakin nearly forgets that it means that Palpatine really must be guilty of these crimes. That he really must have abused his position and accepted bribes.

Anakin feels cold, like he can't breathe.

That means that Anakin was wrong.

And Obi-Wan was right.

~~~~

Padmé feels like she's torn between satisfaction and dismay as she watches the results of the trial come in. On one hand, she feels like this further proves that her realisation that Palpatine used her when she was still Queen is true, because clearly it was not the only time Palpatine decided to ignore convention, the law, and his duty to do something that improved his own standing above everything else.

On the other hand, however, she's watching a man she long considered a mentor be proved a corrupt liar, who missed the fact that his close colleague and the Vice Chair of the Galactic Senate was beyond corrupt.

It makes Senator Mandai's words during that fateful emergency session ring painfully true: "He’s been inefficient, slow to act, and allowed his own term to be dragged out without a new vote for far longer than any competent politician should have allowed! The war has dragged on because our Chancellor has done nothing to stop the powers that drive it, and it is the Jedi and the Clones that shoulder the weight of his incompetence!"

She has long since harboured worries regarding the usage of a Clone army, creating living and sentient beings simply for the sake of throwing them into war for a Republic they have never known... And this is just another layer of anxiety on top of that.

If Palpatine had been a better Chancellor... Would the war have ended already?

Or...

Perhaps the war never would have begun in the first place...

~~~~

The news are all over the Holonet as soon as the sentence is dropped. Some quite large fines, but no jail time.

The people seem conflicted, as many of them had been holding on to what they've been told throughout Palpatine's time in office: that he's a hard working man who's doing his very best for the Republic to even his own detriment at some times.

Some are weeping and in denial, claiming that it cannot be true.

Others are mounting protests, that the punishment is too little for someone who abused the highest political office in the entire Republic.

And Palpatine...

Palpatine is locking down all of his rage and disgust, down as deep inside himself as he can, lest he ends up killing multiple people in an explosion in the Force.

As satisfying as he would find it, he can hardly expose himself like that.

Regaining his reputation will be hard work, harder than he ever expected, but he cannot create more bodies to bury with no control. There are enough people that need to die without him adding random pathetic rabble to the list.

He'll take his time, things will blow over...

And when they do, he'll mount a charm offensive that will make everyone forget about these pesky little convictions. They're barely anything at all—though he's almost impressed that the investigation managed to pin them on him. Seems he might have underestimated the Jedi just a small amount.

It's not a mistake he will repeat.

And they will come to regret ever taking part in this farce in the first place.

Not that they would have been spared even if they hadn't put their noses where they don't belong.

Death to all Jedi...

Just as soon as he can formulate and enact a plan to enact Order 66. There must be some way...

As long as he can activate the chip in the mind of just one single commander, he can ensure that commander spreads it to the others and then the destruction of the Jedi will commence.

And the revenge of the Sith will finally be complete.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[darlingandmreames]

I rewatched The Ritual the other night for the first time in a while and am officially Back On My Bullshit, which means lots of thoughts and opinions that I am now going to make everyone else's problem. So without further ado, here are my thoughts on The Ritual's themes, character dynamics, and how the movie (in my opinion) improved upon the book

(spoilers for both the book and the movie)

Themes

So what is The Ritual actually about? I mean, obviously it's about a freaky forest monster that kills people and grants one of those kinds of immortality where you really gotta read the fine print, but underneath all that what is it actually about?

The answer depends a bit on both whether you're talking about the book or the movie, and how detailed you're being about it. Both the book and the movie share the very broad theme of "moving on", but what the characters are "moving on" from is different in each. I'd argue that the book primarily deals with moving on from past chapters in your life- cherishing the good memories, acknowledging and accepting the failures, and moving forward without becoming stuck on either.

The movie, on the other hand, is very explicitly about trauma, pain, and grief, and the process of confronting and moving on (or NOT moving on) from those experiences. This is achieved by the introduction of Rob, a character who didn't exist in the book. His actual appearance in the movie is brief, but his death is the driving force behind the entire movie. It's sudden, violent, and senseless, and it provides a very distinct and viscerally present context for the character interactions moving forward (more on that later). Rob's death faces the characters with a complex, heartbreaking, and traumatic loss and allows the movie to explore what it means to confront and move on from something like that, as well as the consequences of NOT doing so, by making that pain and grief into a very real (and beautifully designed) monster.

And that's where the movie's second major change comes in: the portrayal of the cult. I.... admittedly didn't really care for the cult portion of the book all that much honestly. It wasn't bad and some of my favourite lines were actually from that part of the book, but it felt almost jarringly different from the first part of the book to me. I felt like the heavy metal teen cultists were very much at odds with the sense of sinister supernaturality the first part of the book had spent building.

I loved the cult in the movie though. These are people who worship the personified (monstrified?) pain and grief that stalks the forest. They were chosen to survive specifically because of their own personal pain ("why me?" "Your pain is great") and by worshipping the monster they're kept in the forest and granted an immortality that saves them from death but not decay. It's a beautiful look at the consequences of being unable/unwilling to move on from pain/loss/grief and instead being consumed by it. The cultists are defined by their pain to the point that it eventually warps them into something almost unrecognizable. By worshipping Moder they are literally unable to move on, both physically (they're stuck in the forest) and spiritually (they can't die). Whereas the cult in the book felt jarringly different in tone from the story leading up to it, the cult in the movie tied into the theme beautifully and provided Luke with a look at his future if he allows his own pain to consume him.

Which brings us to....

Characters

A stories themes are often best portrayed through it's characters, and in this case that mostly means Luke.

Luke in the book is....well, to be honest, he isn't really that sympathetic or even that likeable when we first meet him or really for a large chunk of the story, at least not in my opinion. He's a 36 year old man-child who's clearly still chasing the glory of his college days and who's life up until now has mostly been characterized by failures, flakiness, and not taking responsibility for any of it. And on top of that, he's angry. The kind of angry that's violent, easily provoked, and generally unwarranted. All of the characters are facing failures at the end of this chapter of their lives to some degree (such as Phil being separated from his wife), but Luke is very clearly the least well adjusted- and least sympathetic- of them. His character arc revolves around him learning to move on from this previous chapter in his life, accepting the good and the bad and finally being willing to move forward with determination. In the beginning of the book Luke is characterized by indifference and petulant anger that masks fear and doubt, but he ends the book with a desire to move forward and determination to survive.

The inclusion of Rob and his subsequent death COMPLETELY changes Luke's character though and, in my opinion, makes him FAR more compelling and sympathetic. We still get similar notes to where he starts out as we did in the book; whereas Rob, Dom, Hutch, and Phil have all clearly settled down and moved on from their uni days, Luke obviously hasn't. This is made clear in his suggestions for the lad's holiday, his wanting to get a bottle of liquor after they leave the bar, and his conversation with Rob when they're in the liquor store. Movie!Luke really isn't all that different from book!Luke in the first scene or two.

Rob's brutal murder profoundly changes Luke's character though. He's left dealing with the grief and loss left in the wake of Rob's death, as well as the guilt associated with not having been able to stop it. By taking a character that may not otherwise be particularly sympathetic or likeable and having the audience watch him experience a deeply horrifying and traumatic loss, the movie makes Luke into an extremely compelling character and set him for a far more emotionally engaging character arc as he struggles to cope with both his grief and his guilt.

As I mentioned above, the cult in the movie provides Luke with a glimpse of the consequences of allowing his pain and grief to consume him. Now, the cult in the book sort of does the same thing- the indifferent anger and violence of the cultists mirrors Luke's own anger covering his fear and doubt and shows what could happen if he embraced that part of him. But the cult in the movie, in my opinion, works far better in this role because they feel more thematically and tonally in line with the rest of the movie and because Luke is a more sympathetic character. His decision to accept or reject that path carries more weight because we care about him. Moreover, accepting the same path as the cultist would provide him with a community that understands his pain, something he very much did not have with his friends; we understand that accepting the cult is a bad decision, but we also understand why Luke would be tempted to do so. Simply put, we feel for him and that makes the presentation of this choice much more emotionally impactful.

Interestingly, Luke's character arc in both the book and the movie end with him developing the desire and determination to survive. It comes from two very different places though. In the book, it revolves around Luke's willingness to finally close out the previous chapter of his life- highs and lows and all- and move forward into the future despite the fear and uncertainty doing so may provoke.

In the movie, though, this decision comes within the context of Luke's survivor's guilt. He feels guilty over Rob's death because he wasn't able to intervene and this guilt is reinforced by the other characters, most notably Dom and, later, Hutch. His decision to reject Moder, to fight back and refuse to kneel, represents not only his decision to move on from his grief and trauma but also the acknowledgement that despite what happened he still has worth and his life is still worth living. It also resolves his struggle with his inability to help (which plays a large role in his guilt), something that comes into play in all of the deaths in the movie even beyond Rob's. In Hutch's death Luke tried to find him but was unable to find him until it was far too late. In Phil's death he's initially paralyzed before running away, both in fear, in much the same way he did in Rob's death. In Dom's death he was able to take the necessary steps to help Dom (dislocating his thumb to get out of the restraints) but was ultimately too late and was forced to watch Dom die anyways. By recognizing that he still has worth and that is life is worth living, Luke is able to act in spite of his fear and make the decision not to allow his grief, pain, and trauma to consume him.

No discussion of Luke as a character is completely without also discussing how he interacts with the other characters and hoooo BOY did the movie really ratchet those interactions up a notch or ten. The interactions in the book were well written but they admittedly felt a little one note at times (though this is also probably somewhat due to me viewing book!Luke as not particularly likeable or sympathetic). By including Rob's death the movie adds a layer of complexity to the character interactions that I felt really wasn't there in the book and we get to see the interpersonal effects of traumatic loss. Luke may have been the only one to witness Rob's death but they're all grieving him, and we get to see how that (and how Luke's friends' perception of his role in Rob's death) impacts and strains their relationships. As I mentioned earlier, we see very clearly that Luke doesn't have any real support or understanding from his friends; Dom does little to hide the fact that he views Luke as directly responsible for what happened and while Hutch does initially attempt to provide support, it comes off as superficial and he later admits he isn't sure whether he blames Luke. Luke is very clearly struggling with what happened but can't turn to the people he would normally rely on for support, and his interactions with his friends often alienate him and further reinforce the guilt and blame he's grappling with rather than provide any source of comfort. This, again, makes the temptation to submit to Moder and join the cult, to give into his pain and grief and loss and let it consume him, that much more compelling and his choice to reject it that much more meaningful.

Overall, the movie's decision to add in Rob and his subsequent death and to change how the cult was portrayed was, in my opinion, a truly excellent one and helped move the movie from a story I would've enjoyed but shrugged off into legitimately one of my favourite movies of all time. It allowed for a more thematically and tonally consistent story and made both Luke and his character arc more sympathetic, compelling, and emotionally impactful. When it comes to adaptations I generally tend to enjoy the book more than the movie, but this is one of the few exceptions where I truly believe the movie significantly improved upon the book

[melrosing]

It is so weird watching the show and seeing how much they lionized/whitewashed Cersei, Tyrion, and Tywin while dragging Jaime through the mud. It’s so weird because by removing Jaime’s actual love story and growth, removing Tyrion’s darker impulses, skipping the fallout from Tysha reveal, eliminating fAegon & Stoneheart, elevating Cersei’s role in the story, they basically left nothing for either of the Lannister brothers to do besides stand around, make speeches or go on pointless side quests.

Yeah, I’ve been wanting to go into the whitewashing of certain Lannisters for a while because it’s so plainly a thing they’re doing, but I can’t quite put my finger on why? Because I think the reasons kind of vary depending on which Lannister you’re looking at.

Like in Tyrion’s case I think it’s pretty straightforward: he’s a fan favourite, the good guy on the bad side - I think the popularity Tyrion had at the time (dude was iconic whilst early GOT was airing) was something D&D were unwilling to compromise, and they felt GRRM’s shades of grey would do just that. So they made the bizarre choice to leave him completely stagnant, just sounding a little more tired as the show went on. I mean, they were so desperate to keep Good Man Tyrion that they made Shae’s murder an act of self-defence (...and then never really raised it again because turns out fans still weren’t really okay with it either way).

Tywin and Cersei is... a weirder case? Like D&D’ve full on come out and said they consider Tywin ‘lawful neutral’ (Tywin? The guy who ordered the gang rape of a child purely to hurt his own?? Are you sure about that???), and I think it’s obvious they think of Cersei somewhere along the same lines, but with a whole lot more gendered ‘but she’s just a girl! just a lady! just a mum!’ thrown in. D&D wrote all these kind of nurturing moments for both, where they try and make out that all the extremes the Lanns go to, they do for the love of one another - and I think they think they’re doing something clever like ‘humanising the bad guys’ with that. But in Tywin’s case it’s senseless considering what this man has done in their own show, never mind the books... and in Cersei’s case it results in a fuck load of misogynistic bs that I ranted about the other week.

Thing is, I think they do extend this to Jaime, in a strange way. I’ve heard people say they think Jaime in the books is meaner and crueler than Show Jaime, to which I just have to ask ‘where?’ because Book Jaime has a sharper tongue, sure, but Show Jaime has a way higher crime count, along with no clear desire to actually improve himself (Brienne is the one who has to keep reminding him to do it). I think these additional crimes are included to keep Jaime on Cersei’s moral level if I’m absolutely honest, because D&D do genuinely believe they’re only as bad as each other (à la ‘she’s hateful and so am I’). 

And yet at the same time, this Jaime kind of acts soft when he’s not doing Cersei’s bidding, so the audience goes ‘oh, he’s not so bad!’ Even though... he’s not so good, either. But what ‘Soft Jaime’ does is bring ‘softness’ to House Lannister. Because this isn’t really supposed to humanise him, it’s supposed to humanise them. It’s used to make the family behind the atrocities look like ‘just normal people fighting for their family, albeit on the wrong side of things’. He’s used to make Cersei more sympathetic, because through Jaime we get to see this vulnerable, motherly Cersei that D&D came up with. He’s used to make Tywin seem like a more fatherly figure, too i.e. through the reading lessons, the father-son chats, plus Jaime actually managing to get teary-eyed over the guy’s death in S7 lmao, none of that’s in the books but it’s in the show. 

The second Jaime departs from KL, Team Lannister becomes entirely unsympathetic (and no, D&D, the baby isn’t helping), so he’s sent straight back to bring some of that back, because D&D do believe that somewhere deep down, the Lannister cause is about love and family (it isn’t), and they needed the twins’ soft basement death to communicate that. Cersei by herself is a villain fighting for the throne and for power (book Cersei, in short), but Cersei combined with Jaime is ‘just parents trying to protect baby uwu’. Look! Sympathetic villains! For your consideration! 

So ultimately Soft Jaime is there primarily to provide a sympathetic lens for the bad guys i.e. his dad and sis, because see what Jaime sees! Cersei’s just a lovely mum, Tywin’s just a strict but otherwise loving dad, and hey, they all love each other even if they’ve got funny ways of showing it! (congrats on missing the point of the Lannisters completely!! congrats on missing how GRRM actually uses Jaime to show how cruel and unpleasant Tywin and Cersei really are, even to the person they supposedly love most!!!)

What does it all mean?? no fucking idea, I think D&D were just very taken with the idea of ‘grey characters’ but had no clue what it means to explore the darker shades - in their mind, it’s about finding a justifiable reason for everything their villains do, and trying to make them out to be otherwise almost decent. Why is this such a big thing with the Lannisters and not... Ramsay or Euron or something? Probably just because the Lannisters were popular and the actors were amongst the strongest in the cast and so they devoted their best character writing to them, only unfortunately their best character writing is um... shit!!!

tl;dr honest to god can’t summarise this, just purging my brain of some thoughts that I hope at least distantly relate to your message

[siswritesyanderes]

This is a series of asks bc, while I do LIKE all the charas of Fantastic Beasts individually, much of the romantic pairings dont sit well with me. By that mean the messy love polygon w Newt & I think I finally figured out why & I'd like another's opinion on it. For starters, Newt's attraction with Tina is too fast for me considering he was friends w Leta, got expelled out of Hogwarts for Leta, carried Leta's photo in his case, & basically loved her for YEARS. But this is all undone by a [1]

jaunt in NY having met a woman, who he admittedly went on a huge adventure w, over the course of maybe a few weeks. He's so taken w her she replaces Leta's photo w her own &, after refusing to go to Paris for Dumbledore, leaves immediately once he finds out she's there. I just find this unbelievable. I can rationalize it from Newt's perspective where Tina is a fresh breeze sweeping into his life on (percieved) unrequited pining, but this is my conjecture based on my understanding of Newt. [2]

The audience shouldnt be left to rationalize endgame couple of the mc on their own. & the whole thing w Leta is so messily handled I dont think they can save it even if they bring her back in FB3. How she feels for Newt vs Theseus & unresolved lingering affection, etc. She & Newt were SO important to each other & we SEE that & they dont HAVE to get together, but they need proper resolution bc they have actual history between them. God Leta in general deserved so much better. [3]

But my main gripe is that this love polygon serves no purpose to what I believe is the main selling point of FB: the world. HP having love stories makes sense bc we're following the story of a boy as he goes through adolescence & his journey through that via school is part of that, which is why the romance feels fitting. It's a very personal story. FB on the otherhand is the best peak we have at the wider wizarding world beyond school. HP introduces the world of magic, but FB rlly expands it [4]

To that end Jakob & Queenie's relationship is the only one I find myself liking, bc it's deeply tied to the world setting, the series' biggest selling point (in my opinion, should have said this earlier). It underscores the attitudes of the period & the conflict they face feels suitably substantial & not like filler. There's a moral question between them of are they worth it? And how far should they go to be together?

Imma be real hear & say FB2 was rlly Queenie's movie & they should have been ballsy & just make Queenie the mc for FB2, bc her story was actually considerably more important to the overall development of the story than Newt's, which mostly came off as a rushed & a tad clichè soap drama. & making it about Queenie I think builds more room for good conflict & independent narrative for Tina that would serve her chara better. [5? 6?]

If I bad to be REAL ballsy, I'd say my big issue w/ the relationships in the FB series & how it enhances or impedes the main story & what I believe to be it's biggest attracter (the setting) could have been solved if they made Newt's romantic interest a muggle. It attaches a deeper meaning & relevance to them & the story so it felt more deeply that they truly moved WITH the narrative rather than beside it but I guess Im just picky. Thx for putting up w this! [Final]

(My response below the cut.)

Yeah, pretty much all of this is right.

Regarding the Tina thing, it was definitely rushed, especially since there was literally nothing romantic between them in the whole first movie, except maybe the end part where they're stumbling over their words. Despite knowing how movies work and knowing that they were the male and female lead, I still found that completely out of left field, because they don't really share any interests and I didn't feel like they felt anything in particular for each other before that. She really wants to be an auror and feels really intensely about it; he just wants to travel the world and write about magical creatures and take care of them. I don't see a lot of compatibility there, and the movie didn't really do anything to reconcile that gap.

Jacob and Queenie made sense, because they actually sowed some seeds for it. It's not even about the fact that they both like to cook; they showed an interest in each other throughout. They noticeably like each other. Newt and Tina never really had that, to me, so it was bizarre for her to become his primary motivation in the second movie.

Queenie's trajectory in movie 2 overall bothers me, so while I agree it would have been better if they'd centered it more around her, I definitely think they needed to drastically rewrite pretty much everything she did. Enchanting Jacob at the beginning never sat well with me; I usually only have to say this in the Descendants fandom, but if one half of the ship is magical and the other half isn't, we can't have the magical one enchanting the non-magical one for romantic reasons without addressing what a violation of trust that is. Like, Jacob would be justified for never trusting her again, over that. Also, the fact that she apparently holds it against people if they think bad things about her is not something I would expect from someone who has been a Legilimens as long as she has, and not a detail I like, at all. Especially since it was used to give her justification to be mad at Jacob after she enchanted him in the first place. I find it sad, because Queenie was definitely my favorite character in the first movie. (Also, joining Grindelwald was a nonsensical thing to do. I can only assume she's there to spy on him or something, because it makes literally no sense.)

As for Leta, I really don't like how that was approached. First of all, I don't like how their mention of her in the first movie was "She was a taker; you need a giver," because once we actually met the character, that only made me resent Queenie for representing her that way. Leta deserved better in pretty much every way, and they definitely shouldn't have killed her off like that. I find the whole situation really iffy from a racial standpoint. The first black character to be written three-dimensionally in all of HP lore, and they make sure to preemptively tell the audience that she's a "taker", kill her in the same movie we meet her, and manage to trivialize her death by turning it into a little "Who was she saying 'I love you' to?" mystery. I like her relationship with Newt and Theseus, and I'd definitely want to see more of it.

Yes, it definitely would have been better, thematically, if they'd made the love interest a Muggle. (I'd honestly say they should've paired Newt with Jacob, but I know they're unwilling to do that. That would be kind of cool, though, to see the movie shaping up with two male characters and two female characters and have the men end up with each other and the women just live their lives as humans.)

With the story they ended up telling, though, I don't think that is needed; since Queenie is already dealing with the wizard/Muggle storyline, Newt could have a different conflict. Maybe his love interest should be a werewolf or something, to tie in the wizarding world's unresolved dislike for "half-breeds". And if he were in a relationship with someone already regarded as a creature, the wider wizarding world might take a different view to his studies and look down on him a lot more. Idk, a thought.

And then, with Leta/Theseus and Grindelwald/Dumbledore (if they were willing to actually deal with that), they'd pretty much hit every controversial beat they've got: wizard/Muggle, wizard/"half-breed", interracial, homosexual. Credence and Nagini are both creatures, kind of, but I still like them together, so their relationship doesn't have to tie into any theme; it just has to be developed way more.

On the whole, Crimes of Grindelwald felt like they skipped a movie. It feels like they needed a middle installment to make these relationships happen, instead of jumping from "Do Newt and Tina maybe have feelings for each other?" to "Newt loves Tina and Tina is possessive enough of Newt to be outwardly upset with him when she thinks he's engaged to someone else," and creating a whole relationship between Credence and Nagini that we see none of.

The fact that Queenie and Jacob were done well in the first movie gives me a fair amount of goodwill for them, but that goodwill only offers enough cushioning from the botching that movie 2 did that I'm near-indifferent to the ship, now, instead of actively opposed. I'd like to see things improved, but as it currently stands, I'd be just as happy seeing them end up not together as together. The fact that Leta's relationships with Newt and Theseus were more interesting than any of the aforementioned makes it that much more ridiculous that they killed her. What ship am I supposed to care about how? If I can't go into the next movie delusionally hoping Newt and Leta will get some moments, or enjoying the Theseus and Leta content, then I'll just be sitting there waiting for Credence and Nagini to share a screen, and who knows when that'll happen?

[strosmkai-rum]

writing related things i never thought i would have to say but oh boy i did: unpopular opinions edition

hope and patience are the only two things an editor needs more than coffee.

don’t write mean comments or leave unsolicited criticism. even if it's bad writing, it does not warrant bad feedback. 

your talent in one thing doesn’t necessarily translate to another field in the slightest, no matter how close you might think they’re related.

there is a line between “i write for fun and am content to move at my own pace and really, truly, make this my own thing solely for my own enjoyment,” and it really does very often bleed over into “this is a hobby, i am not being paid to do this, yet am still competitive about it and sometimes that enjoyment from the hobby conflicts with the realization that i still want to be good at this but am simply not invested enough to actually do so, and thus improve.”

some writers do not want to improve. that’s fine, but at the very least, accept that you have your own strengths and weaknesses, as well as the fact that you do not want to improve. 

style should not conflict with legibility.

do not ask for feedback under the impression that you will only receive compliments. 

please do not antagonize your beta/editor. 

if you take criticism personally a lot, or if you don’t like how it imposes on your view of yourself, you may also want to keep what you do to yourself.

regarding criticism, it’s just as important to read between the lines as it is to choose what to listen to.

a compliment to an oc means double to the creator.

constructive brutality (also known as: what people hope will result from saying "tear my writing to shreds") is not a thing. brutality in and of itself rarely makes people think. people tend to simply get defensive because many times it’s comparable to an insult, and the best way to deal with an insult is to shrug it off or not think about. or in some cases, actively fight it.

have the self awareness to understand what you would want and what you actually want. improvement is always a tantalizing prospect for an author, until they realize that it involves bringing out flaws in their writing. that part is never easy, which is fine; rarely do writers ever gladly look criticism in the eye. it’s difficult to accept, but at the very least, if you’re unable or unwilling to accept concrit, do not seek out a beta/editor in hopes that they won’t give you that. because a good one at least, very much will.

many people don't realize how much they’re making themselves vulnerable by publishing their writing online. best to ask yourself first “is this truly for me now? did i post this online for other people to enjoy in the same way i do? am i willing to accept the potential criticism that may accompany?”

it’s incredibly easy to project into an original character. tread lightly with criticism in regards to them, especially one that has some sort of a traumatic past or visible issues.

“shameless self promotion” is not talking about your work if it comes up in a related conversation. shameless self promotion, however, is forcing your writing into a completely unrelated conversation with zero warning. don’t do this.

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00627: Scorch

Kix glanced up at the familiar sound of the medbay doors opening, frowning as he saw two commando troopers walking in. Their distinctively styled helmets gave an air of uniformity, but the designs painted on them spoke of very different personalities.

The commando wearing the helmet marked with red, jagged lines - almost suggesting a handprint - was half-supporting, half-dragging another commando with a simple, gray-green helmet painted with white and yellow details. Kix studied both new arrivals, but couldn't find any visible injuries on either.

"What happened here?" Kix asked, already starting toward the men.

"Scorch here blew himself up," the red-painted commando answered, with a motion of his helmet that clearly said he was rolling his eyes. "Di'kut."

"I did not!" the injured Scorch said defensively, turning to address Kix. "I had a minor disagreement with a wall."

"Yeah?" the red-painted commando asked, "What were the arguments?"

"Whether or not the blast from a thermal detonator plus my own fabulous aim would make the wall go 'boom'," Scorch replied, clearly grinning under his helmet.

"Congratulations on winning your argument, sir," Kix said dryly, already promising himself to blow up the Resolute and everyone inside before he would let Scorch and Hardcase meet. "Let's shed the armor and see how much damage that wall's rebuttal caused."

The two commandos completed their half-walk, half-drag journey to the first bunk in the medbay and Scorch leaned up against the mattress, stifling a pained groan. The red-painted one, obviously fed up with his brother's antics, unceremoniously lifted and deposited Scorch on the bed.

"Come on, Sev!" the commando complained loudly. "You know I'm injured and delicate."

"It doesn't count as an injury if you've always been stupid," Sev told him. "I'm going to report back to Boss."

"You're going to leave me here, alone and hurt?" Scorch asked dramatically. His only reply was the medbay door closing behind Sev. He shook his head and told the door, "Well, that was rude."

The door seemed unsympathetic.

Kix cleared his throat, wondering if he should crank the scanner high enough to scan for brain injuries, when Scorch turned back to him. He pulled off his gray and white commando helmet, grinned, and stuck out a hand. "Scorch."

"I gathered," Kix replied. "I'm Kix."

"Good, I'm in the right place," Scorch said, heaving an exaggerated sigh of relief as he began stripping off the rest of his armor. "But what is the best medic in the GAR doing attached to the 501st?"

"The best medic," Kix repeated skeptically, scanning the now de-armored commando.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard the stories," Scorch told him, eyes wide and sincere, though they sparkled with an edge of barely there mischief. "Granted, mostly from the pilot on the way here, but still."

"Troopers like to talk. And as for why the 501st…" Kix let some of his constant fond exasperation come through, "no one gets in more trouble or hurts themselves in stranger ways than them."

"And you like to treat them," Scorch summed up, the look on his face more intense than the situation called for. Kix was on-edge before the commando spoke again. "Makes you feel powerful, doesn't it? Makes you feel like you're better than them, more than just a regular trooper."

"Makes me feel like I've got one more living brother," Kix corrected sharply.

Scorch raised his hands in a gesture speaking of an innocence that his sparkling eyes belied. "Hey, I had to make sure you weren't one of those power-trip troopers."

Kix shook his head and silently went to gather the supplies he would need to treat his patient, unwilling to continue an insulting conversation. However, since the commando had started it… He turned to meet Scorch's eyes. "If we're asking uncomfortable questions, let me ask one."

Scorch made a beckoning gesture with his less-injured hand, as if he were inviting Kix to continue.

"Why do you sound different from every other trooper, but look exactly like the rest of us?" It was something he had been wondering since Scorch took off his helmet, but he had been too polite to ask. At least, until the commando had accused him of treating men for the ego boost. As if it did wonders for his ego to be vomited on, covered in blood, to need to help his brothers to the 'fresher, to hold their hands as they took their last breath-

"I'm an excellent mimic," Scorch answered, using Kix's own inflection. Kix stared at him steadily until he continued in his normal offbeat voice. "Sometimes, a situation calls for a voice to be different so we don't sound like normal clone troopers, no matter how much we look like them. Delta Squad is full of differences. Boss has a thicker accent than most native Mandalorians, Fixer has worked to speak the most pure Basic, and Sev's vocal cords are damaged. Me, I just talk this way because I want to."

"Yeah, you can never meet Hardcase," Kix muttered to himself, fighting a shudder at the ridiculous accent the 501st trooper would be sure to put on as a result.

"What was that?" Scorch asked.

"I said, oh excellent mimic, that you've bruised your ribs, pulled a hamstring, and most of the left side of your body will be covered in bruises for the next few weeks, maybe less if you can take a couple of days to rest up." Kix frowned down at the datapad showing the scanner's results. "You managed not to break anything, which is - frankly - a miracle."

"Commando armor," Scorch told him with a sharp rap on his chestplate, wincing as the movement strained his injuries.

"Bruised. Ribs." Kix repeated, biting the end off each word so that the commando would be sure to understand him. "I'll issue you some pain meds, but the most you can do to improve your recovery time is to sleep as much as possible and stay hydrated. Most importantly-"

Kix cut himself short as the medbay door opened and Scorch instinctively turned to see the new arrivals, hissing in pain at the twisting motion. "-don't twist or move your body in unusual ways," Kix finished, giving a perfunctory salute to the commando sergeant who stepped up to the bed.

"How is the patient?" the sergeant asked. Despite Scorch's overly casual manner, Kix had to admit that the commando had given an accurate description of his squadmates and their voices. This one with the thick Mando'a accent must be Boss.

With a shrug to answer the sergeant's question, Kix told him, "Not much I can do, actually."

"Told you those thermal dets would kill you some day," the rough-voiced Sev said to Scorch with no small amount of satisfaction.

"What? No," Kix told him, nettled by the idea that a patient of his could die from such minor injuries. "Scorch is covered in bruises and he pulled a few muscles. Nothing life-threatening, but they aren't injuries I can do much for. I'm issuing pain meds, but he could stand a few days of bed rest, sir."

Boss nodded while Scorch looked horrified. "I can't stay on bed rest!"

The last commando, the non-accented Fixer, sounded irritated by his squadmate. "Six-Two, you can't just choose which orders to follow. If Three-Eight says you're on bed rest, that's where you'll be unless you want a court-martial."

Scorch looked pleadingly at Kix. "I could die from my injuries, right, Kix? Even Fixer wouldn't try to boss around a dying brother."

"Er... " Kix trailed off, glancing around at the group of commandos. "Bruises have a notoriously low fatality rate, Scorch."

"I think his vocal cords may have been damaged," Sev observed. "Could you order a total lack of speaking for the foreseeable future? For medical reasons?"

"We'd make it worth your while," Fixer wheedled.

"Is it too late to say I don't want any visitors?" Scorch asked, though even that sounded like a joke.

"We probably should leave," Boss agreed, cutting through Sev and Fixer's gloating with a simple reminder of, "Lots of reports to write."

"Ugh. Really, sir? For a self-inflicted injury?"

"I was having a good day, Boss."

Before he left, Boss patted Scorch gently on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, Scorch. Rest up or we'll leave you behind on our next mission."

"Kix?" Kix glanced over at the commando sergeant, one brow lifting in silent question. "Make sure he rests. Sedate him or strap him down if you need to."

With one last threatening look in Scorch's direction, Boss left the medbay. Kix silently held out the pain meds for Scorch, passing him a cup of water at the proper time.

"You're good to sleep now," Kix told the commando. "If the pain gets bad again, let me know and I'll increase your dosage."

Scorch nodded and had just settled back against the pillow when the medbay door opened and Kix's heart nearly stopped. He walked briskly to the front of the medbay, making small pushing motions at the new arrival. "Hardcase, get out of here. You're fine."

"You don't even know what's wrong yet," Hardcase pouted.

"Hardcase?" Scorch asked, sitting up with a manic interest gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Hardcase asked, leaning to peer around Kix's shoulder. "Whoa, a commando! I heard you guys get to deal with more explosives than anyone!"

"You ever juggled thermal detonators?" Scorch asked, giving Kix an innocent shrug when the medic glared.

"No!" Hardcase said, pushing past Kix to perch by Scorch's bedside, wearing a look of utter fascination.

In only moments, the two were swapping stories, each trying to outdo the other while both seemed impressed by the other's exploits. Kix groaned. Force willing, he wouldn't have much to do with Scorch after this, but he already expected a wild number of injuries in Hardcase's near future.

---

A/N - First off, I want to apologize to... well, just everyone. For those who are not familiar with Republic Commando, you're probably a bit confused about who these guys are and why they're here. I read a fic featuring the characters in a minor role and proceeded to inhale everything I could find with them in it. For those who are familiar with Republic Commando, I would like to apologize for any errors in characterization, background, etc. Sidebar: if you know of a good fic featuring Delta Squad, please share the name of it with me!

Please reblog this work! It helps me grow my readership!

[ms-hells-bells]

and yes, to reiterate what i said, because this still seems to be taboo to outright say to a lot of people, i would not date a severely mentally ill or severely unhealthy person. i’m working on myself, being happy with myself, know what i want in life, and would enter a relationship as a stable individual, not a work in progress or someone that needs a partner to ‘improve’ or care for me. and i would expect the same from the partner i meet. BUT THAT’S JUST MY PREFERENCES, NO ONE ELSE’S, NO ONE IS OBLIGATED TO DATE ME NO MATTER WHAT. i myself have a chronic illness that, although i manage myself without the help of anyone else apart from my doctors, if someone didn’t want to date me because of it, because they have the same preferences as me above, then that’s completely fine. if someone didn’t want to date me, or broke it off because my autism created major difficulties in communication or seeing eye to eye, that would be completely fine. if my depression and anxiety disorders returned with a vengeance, then first of all, i would never ever enter a relationship in that mind state, that’s not healthy for me nor that potential partner. but secondly, them supporting me would certainly be nice, support through hard times is a great trait in a partner (that you already are in a relationship with), but if they felt it had too much of a negative impact on their life in various ways, they’re more than free to leave, although it would suck. of course, dedication and empathy is so important, not just running away the second something becomes slightly challenging, but there’s a line between caring for others in a way any human should, and putting someone else ahead of your own long term happiness. and frankly, even if someone ran away the instant things became slightly hard, they have the right to do so, and they did you a favour, because that’s not a partner you want, someone so unwilling to commit or support. it’s better that they did it then, than feel obligated to stay, but then abandon you when you’re at your worst. not to mention how uncertain the future is with someone with severe mental or physical issues is. if you want a long term relationship, someone who has high suicide risk or a guaranteed or highly likely shortened lifespan is something many do not want, which is perfectly fair, particularly for those who want a family. 

and all of this is the same with money and career. people who don’t wanna date unemployed or very poor/in debt people are completely within reason. it’s the one area in life where pretty much every single kind of discrimination is allowed, because YOU WANT TO SPEND YOUR LIFE WITH THEM AND BE HAPPY AND STABLE. if someone didn’t want to date me because i’m on the benefit and can’t work, more than fair enough, i’m not a reliable partner for the long term if we were to move in and split bills and payments. and right now, money is everything. i certainly would not date someone who’s long term unemployed unless there were certain circumstances preventing them from doing so, but then they may fall into my first criteria above (although maybe not, but we’d have to live separately and independently, especially since i could lose my benefit for dating someone). 

health, job, money, religion, politics, looks, temperament, future goals, ideals, anything is okay to discriminate on with dating. our bodies aren’t validation stations, we reserve the right to have personal standards that we believe will make us the most happy and provide the best relationship that will last the longest. whether it turns out to be right or wrong, immature, idealistic, pessimistic, whether our ideals change over time (and they do), or anything else is no one’s business but our own. no one is owed love, no one is obligated to give love. but, the wonderful thing is, there’s nearly 8 billion people on the planet, all with different preferences, and for every trait you have that some may find undesirable, there have been at the very least MILLIONS who also have/had it that found a loving partner/s who accepted them as they are, and they lived largely happy lives together. and the less wonderful thing is, the worst of the worst criminals in prison right now; mass murderers, rapists, cult leaders, get love letters sent to them, and get married in prison. if they can get love, anyone can. 

[jjkpls]

crayons ‘set’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, light angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.8k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

The principle of balance. 

It’s a curious concept. Like most of the things that turn people into different versions of themselves, just from an unconscious force brought to light by the sheer inner sense of competition that inhabits every single person. It’s quieter in some people. Feel non-existent sometimes. But it’s here, dormant, just waiting on the right trigger to awaken. 

You didn't think you would see it in Jimmy. The little boy lacks completely self-confidence and affirmation. But a voice and a stance, easily remarkable, end up fitting him.

It turns out that you witness it quite quickly after the Progress has started. And it manifests in the most adorable and comical of ways. 

It’s been a few weeks since you've met his dad. There wasn’t much to talk about with him yet. Every day, longer lingerings of the gaze, less tucking away in the far back of the rest of the group, more definite wordless participations during class -nodding and clapping along. The progress you've been wholly satisfied with but nothing so drastically different that you thought necessary to call his father in for. 

Nothing absolutely astonishing. Therefore you didn’t call and what a surprise this one Thursday afternoon turns out to be when he appears at your class’s doorway.

He’s wearing very casual clothes, a simple light linen shirt and some distended jeans to pair, sneakers and his hair -you've only seen neatly tucked to the side- is floating about his forehead, freshly washed and devoid of any wax. It’s a pleasant surprise, especially with the evident appearance of calm and quiet tranquillity he’s carrying. 

This man looks rather handsome when he’s on vacation, stressless and well-rested and seemingly content, you note.

“Mr Kim?”

He looks up from his son he is holding the hand of, eyes wide and bewildered as he stares a little. You chuckle, confused but amused. He’s the one paying you a surprise visit but he’s shocked when you do talk to him?

“Is it bad timing? I can come back another day...” From the look he’s giving you, or more accurately, barely sparing you, body already aiming for the corridor, you wonder if you should return the question. It'd be cruel though, to tease, therefore you choose to simply shake your head and insist on him walking in. And then it happens, the man can’t take a step inside, for some reason. He’s just paralysed, looking like a million contradicting thoughts are fighting inside his brain and he simply cannot make out the best option, if he would or not step in; and it’s Jimmy who takes the decision for him. Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, he pushes against his father's leg, small hands pulling the bigger one towards him. It’s like watching a tiny mouse trying to drag along a giraffe. It has little to no physical effect until there’s an aggravated tiny whine of “appa”. He moves, at last, letting himself stood in front of me before Jimmy lets go of his hand. 

He gives you a look you're not sure you interpret well. Dark eyes all serious, attention loud, he seems to be intrusting his father to you. A gentle smile, hiding your teeth biting back a hilarious grin, sends him away towards the very back of the room. Taking a seat next to the bookshelf, it takes Jimmy a few minutes only after you've diverted your attention from him to grab an image book and start going through it patiently.

He's so comfortable. Almost too comfortable. He looks strange, like that. Strange because different from usual but still, oddly, it fits him well. It's like a projection, a little vision of a future little boy, easygoing, at peace with himself and his environment, that won't take too long to be born again.

And it's now the dad who's acting weird. He's standing on his two never-ending legs, the tip of his fingers toying nervously with the button of his vest, his mouth keeps teasing, opening slightly, as if about to spill a word, only to shut itself right up, a lightly aggravated sigh following soon after. It happens quite a couple of times until you get tired of waiting. Tired of the eyes avoiding you, the tension heavy for no particular reason that you could decipher, you ring him awake with an abrupt overexaggerated clearing of your throat.

"Mr Kim?" He's confounded again, caught off guard somehow. "Did you mean to discuss something with me?" It's hard to make an adult talk, you realise. Sometimes children can be difficult. Put aside Jimmy's case, sometimes children are like that. Making them want to share, especially when they are at that age where they can't express themselves and their ideas as well as they wish they could, frustration, laziness at times can get the better of them and having a fairly constructed conversation with them is like pulling teeth out of a very adamant, unwilling person. But you manage. Adults, on the other hand, have never been too much of your cup of tea. There's a reason why you chose to spend the better part of your weeks with children instead of adults. You're not that terrible at getting along with them, you do it pretty well, honestly. But the reason is probably the fact that you're not difficult. You're convenient as a person, always willing to help, always trying to be positive, you do not get in people's way and most of the times, it's enough to make it through.

You don't deal with adults the way you deal with children. With great pleasure and passion, you insert yourself into your pupils' existence, try to leave a mark and help them have the better, feel the better, be the better. Adults, you don't get too involved. They sound complicated, complexed, too many compromises, too many facets. You know because you are one too.

And Mr Kim, looking all nervous and troubled seem the very embodiment of this bias you have. He looks some sort of troubles. Probably nothing that terrible. He appears too childish for it to be that grave. But he's serious about it, about the anxiety, the struggle, the uneasiness he's feeling, you can tell, just from the way he hasn't been able to look at you in the eyes since he appeared in your class. Still, whatever it is, will cost some of your time, and with that, might clog up some very much needed space you require in this busy head of yours.

It's happened before. A new neighbour trying to get closer to you, maybe because they've just moved in the city, didn't know anyone, and you looked friendly enough and they needed someone to listen to the exhaustive list of all the things that made them leave their hometown -even though, you don't necessarily care for any of it. Or a colleague, trying to get you involved in their office dramas, simply because people need the attention, the feeling of importance and support.

Quite frankly, you've never been interested in any of them. Adults sound like too much work, especially given the fact that, as filled with flaws as they are, they are a pain, and often impossible, to fix. And they say things they don't mean. And they want things that they don't need. Their words and their acts hardly ever match. They're for the most part unrecoverable and unfixable, and you don't want any of it.

But Mr Kim and his dimples -invisible to the eye at the moment, but that you realise marked your brain so strongly you can picture them exactly where they should be winking- are piquing your interest. You're ninety-nine per cent sure it is not about Jimmy but you'd like to know. Never mind that curiosity killed the cat.

“Yes, uh-“ Clearing of the throat, scratching of the neck and more clearing of the throat. “about last time...”

You're lost. For a second, your body freezes to give your brain its full capacity to wreck through the whole place and retrieve a memory that seems to have been lost somehow, somewhere. You have no idea what time he is referring to. 

He seems so invested, so intensely experiencing his emotions you're left shocked and deeply embarrassed to not remember something that had that effect on him yet didn’t leave a single trace on you. 

He insists then, having to face your transparent confusion. The more you stand in pure oblivion, the more awkward he gets. Stuttering more, an accent, very deep, adding rough edges to his voice, colouring his words with new shades that you've never heard before.

“Mr Kim-“

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, it’s me, I am, I’m-“ You will, later, feel terrible for it. It’s undeniable. But right now, facing this grown-ass man, usually so collected now decomposing in the most adorable red-cheeked boyish thing, you can only start laughing. It renders him speechless which in a way is almost an improvement and when you finally can restrain the giggles from bubbling straight from your belly, you start again,

“Maybe take a deep breath, take your time.” You bite your lip down to the blood, poorly concealing your grin when he actually does it. “What did you mean by ‘last time’?” You're mortified to ask, honestly, persuaded that you should know but at this point, it’s pretty mean but you don’t think you can embarrass yourself that much in front of him, not when he’s been such a mess himself. 

“When we met. When I came to talk about my son.” Calmly, diligently he answers. Like a good boy answering his teacher’s question, a shadow of worry covering his usually sharp gaze. 

“Oh, what about it?” Curiosity melts with confusion as you refrain yourself from pressing him further into elaborating faster, eager as you are to understand. You were sure he was not going to talk about him. 

“I’d been a bit much and I wanted to apologise personally to you.”

Been a bit much? 

“In what sense? I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s just- I poured myself and our luggage on you when you’re- I know you care about my son but I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have-“

You hate cutting people off. It’s a terrible habit you are constantly trying to teach your students to drop. But here he is, struggling to express an idea that irks you strongly. Is he able to put the words he needs? Does he even know them in his own mother tongue or do they even exist? Maybe what he's trying to express are pure emotions. Unease coming from a heart shameful for having shown itself vulnerable to a stranger. You'd know about this feeling. You've experienced it plenty of times, throughout all your life. Even if it wasn’t in the form of you stripping your heart off to someone, like he did, simply showing that you cared gave you the same sense of vulnerability, of terrifying exposure you've always had a hard time dealing with. 

You hate the idea that he regrets it, especially with you. At that time, you could tell he had words to pour out. You were glad, you were even enchanted to be the one helping out no matter how small you just assumed your impact to have been. And now, he's trying to say that he regrets it?

“You said you were thankful to have someone to talk to.”

“I did say that.” He mumbles, pressing the pad of his fingers against his closed eyes. 

“Then don’t regret it. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about this, seriously. I had parents do way more, actually embarrassing, things in my career. Don’t even worry about it.” He’s thinking it over. You can tell your words have little to no impact on his bruised ego. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is for me to say that but if you need it, whenever in the future, don’t hesitate. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m just- I’m willing to listen if it can help. I mean me or anyone else, really, you should in general just share. It’s important. You don’t want Jimmy to mimic such bad habits like so, holding in and all.” You may be talking too much. The man just looks so eager to hear those words and it spurs you on. “You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I can understand the feeling, where it comes from, but it’s pointless with me.”

“You’re really kind.” You give a smile, only. It’s not much but you're pretty sure it’s the genuineness tinting it that renders it enough. Again, he seems surprised. As bewildered as last time but undoubtedly convinced. “I’m glad he has you as his teacher.”

Your cheeks burn intensely. You don’t know how conscious he is of his words. If he realises that he perfected the art of flattery and of slipping people in his pocket. He really did. Especially when he’s leaning slightly towards you, gaze intense and on you now that the embarrassment has vanished for the most part and he can bear looking at you, seemingly hanging out for any other words you may have in stock.

There’s nothing left for you to say though. It takes you quite a few attempts to skim over your brain, trying to formulate a sentence, any word, but you come out completely empty. You can’t even stutter a thank you from how utterly flustered you're feeling. 

Therefore you choose the easy way out. Waltzing on your heels to give him your back, your hands reaching to the barely messy top of your desk to pretend they’re busy. You believe yourself to have been sleek enough but apparently not so -maybe it’s the fact that you're just picking up stuff to put them exactly where they belong, at the exact same place. 

“Was I inappropriate? I’m really sorry, Mrs ___. Sometimes I just talk too much and I don’t realise that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Please stop apologising. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re just- You saying nice things that you mean,” You stumble upon the last words as if maybe you're getting over your own head to just assume and claim so loud that he must mean the sweet things he said to you but that bashful yet adorable expression he's wearing, with the eyes a bit wide and the bottom lip munched, fill you with a regain of confidence, “can’t be an issue. It’s just unexpected and- I mean you’re fine you can say whatever you want. I mean I’m not asking for more compliments, I’m just saying-“

It’s terribly unnerving. You don’t know what impression you're giving off as a teacher. Lacking so much elocution, scrambling to form sentences and turning into a messy, overwhelmed emotional mess. 

“I don’t mind giving you more compliments, Mrs ___.” Here comes that curious principle of balance again. You're half-dying of mortification and he seems to be having fun, smiling kindly, with a hint of something else -amusement, maybe even smudginess. 

Is he flirting with me? There’s no way he’s flirting. I think I’m losing my mind. 

“It’s Miss, actually.” You swear to yourself, silently, that you're not flirting back -assuming he is, in fact, doing just that- and you just mean to be called by an accurate name. 

“Oh.” He almost gasps. Looking shocked and you don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Was he really not flirting? Why does he look so shaken as if you misinterpreted his intentions and now he’s misinterpreting yours and think you're getting over your head -because you're not, you were not flirting!

“I’m not flirting with you, I’m just clarifying!” 

You hate this whole conversation. You hate yourself, your life and anything and everything that may or may not have led you to this tragic instant.

You're positive you screamed a little. You get confirmation of just that from the tiny mop of hair bouncing up in your peripheral vision, as Jimmy gives you two a slightly concerned, curious look. 

The tension is blatant. It's a mixture of irritation, of anxiety, of embarrassment. You couldn't have messed up any worse than you did and you positively want to simply die, right about now.

The mere thought that you'll have to live with this humiliation not only for the whole day ahead, blatantly hanging out at the back of your head, sometimes probably too close to your consciousness for any sense of comfort to ever inhabit you again, but for your entire life makes you want to throw yourself out the window. You decide not to indulge in the pressing pulsion only because you're on the ground floor, therefore, it would be pointless if not even more humiliating.

Mr Kim, somehow, helps a little. By not wearing a mask of pure revolt, revulsion or aggravation. He stares soundly, expression not giving off much to work with. Just enough to understand he is not mad, simply lost in his own thoughts he doesn't seem too keen on sharing.

A spark of sensibility blooms suddenly in your brain. You're so thankful for it, you jump right on it, grab it with your two hands and start again, as if nothing happened, as if you haven't just humiliated yourself in front of this man (and his son), "Jimmy has made a lot of progress, I've noted."

Mr Kim blinks a few times, unnaturally so. "Yeah? I mean, yes, I've noticed too, actually." He keeps staring with the same obnoxiously loud thoughts running in his mind. His brain is on full activity mode. It's obvious. And he doesn't care too much about talking about his son right this second (even though he doesn't seem to care much about sharing what's going through that private head of his either).

How disappointing. You sincerely thought the one subject that matters the most to him would successfully tear the attention away from you but you're a fool. Apparently, even the cute little bean of a son he has can't divert the attention from the humiliation you've just submitted yourself to.

"Anyway, I won't hold any more of your time, you must have work to attend to."

"Actually I'm not working today. I have the day off." Your lip now too sensitive, you attack the inner part of your cheek with your teeth -thankfully you've turned your back to him again, feigning observing with great attention something through the windows- to stop yourself from screeching. It takes him so long, so fucking long for him to decide, finally, that maybe he should leave. The longest dozens of seconds of your life. Staring outside, picturing him behind you, probably watching you wondering to himself how you can be so lame and how he could have thought you a good fit to be his precious son's teacher. "Ah, I should leave anyway. Your class is about to start?"

"Ah, yes. Well, thanks for passing by. I hope you rest well." It's the least genuine you've been with this man, and anyone for the matter, in so long. Your heart and mind are in such a shamble you don't actually remember the reason for his coming and if, really, anything positive came out of this conversation.

It's ridiculous how you feel, all bothered and nervous, aggravated with him for making you feel so flustered. You give him the most convincing fake smile you own, not taking the time to check if he buys it as you don't dare lingering your attention on him for any longer than the blink of the eye takes.

When he leaves, only after having scattered a bunch of smooches on Jimmy's face, you find yourself breathing again. It's like you've been holding in for so long, you're getting dizzy at the taste of oxygen again, heart beating furiously in your chest, sweating all over.

Fuck, that was painful.

You're such an idiot sometimes. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot? It's not like you're asking much in this life, honestly. You're not aiming at any groundbreaking, universe shaking novelties. You're staying in your line, trying to be good and do good in your own little world. Not asking much, not taking without beforehand being offered. Is it really that much to ask to not be absolutely humiliated in front of one of your kids' parent, who happens to be a stupidly handsome man? (Yes, he is. You can admit that -to yourself. It's probably the reason why your brain stopped working properly, by the way.) You're cursed. I'm cursed, I'm cursed, I'm cur-

"Mish?" The quietest little call comes from the quietest little boy. Standing a secure meter away from you, his peculiar big black eyes staring with a silent demand in them, Jimmy waits patiently for your attention to be given to him. You offer it to him with great enthusiasm. Because between self-pitying your dumb ass and celebrating the first-ever-self-willingly-uttered word to you by this boy, the choice is not even to be pondered over.

"Yes, Jimmy?" He's holding in one hand your crayons he slowly tends your way, careful not to spill them all from his tiny fist. In the other one, there's a paper he's drawn on. Your eyes instinctively are driven to it, curious to see what he decided to draw when he felt comfortable enough to do it. He catches the line of your attention, evidently, and it takes him a second but then, finally, he decides you're allowed to see it. It's a too accurate copy of the ugly cat you made for him the other day. The colours are different, the traits a bit shakier yet, completely unbiasedly, you have to admit that he somehow made it look better. "That's a very pretty cat, Jimmy."

He looks at it, ruminates your words, trying to make sense of them, verify their accuracy. Suddenly he seems to decide that you're right and giving you another candid look, he returns to his table where he proceeds to carefully slip the drawing in his bag.

You realise your eyes are filled up with prickling tears while you sniff. You're not sure how much is due to this, how much the terrible, terrible encounter with his dad worked your emotions so intensely you're so sensitive now. In any case, it turns out for the better. It's this cute little cat that ends up making you and your day ahead feel better. You're so thankful for it.

Again, you know you're too involved but how are you supposed to do any different with them? Maybe it wasn't a punishment earlier. Maybe it was the storm before the ray of sunshine. It's probably the case. You're less aggravated, suddenly. Less vexed and probably more lenient on talking to this man again given, not the ray of sunshine, but actually rainbow that he may have helped cause to colour your day.

A/N: thanks for reading 💜

[citrineghost]

Why Compassionate Actions Matter (Yes, Yours Too.)

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about communication. Communication and human interaction are both things I think of a lot, actually. The most recent thing I wondered about is why so many people seem to not care about the things their supposed friends do.

For example, I’m in a server with my 5 friends, all of whom are also my roommates. There have been a lot of times that I’ve posted my art or some short stories to the #share channel and then waited and waited and gotten no response at all.

It made me wonder, do none of them care?

I know that all of these people generally care about each other and each other’s happiness. They’re all fairly compassionate toward others. So why do they seem to ignore every effort I make to reach out and share the things I do? Why do none of them ever do the same? It’s not that I expect anyone to applaud me and tell me how good my art is or how compelling my writing is - I just wanted to be seen.

Feeling invisible has always been a struggle for me, being raised in a household where I was in “the forgotten child” role. So, in my friendships, this is a sore spot for me. It tends to make me move on after a while if my friends don’t ever seem to see me. This is also why I usually only have one or two best friends - people who feel the way I do about compassionate action.

What Is “Compassionate Action”?

When I say “compassionate action,” I’m talking about doing or saying things that don’t directly benefit you or that you may do purely to benefit someone else. It’s not an official term or anything, just an apt way to describe what I need to. This doesn’t have to be charity work or groveling or kissing up to someone. It could be as simple as letting someone know their message has been seen - sending a heart in the chat to let someone know you see their work and you appreciate it.

Compassionate action is what draws me to the best friends I do have. My boyfriend is someone who I can always count on to be supportive and give positive words no matter what I do. I do the same for him. If I draw a picture, he always responds to it, saying, honestly, that he likes it! If I get really excited about a formula I created for a spreadsheet and I send him a screenshot, even if he doesn’t know what he’s looking at, he’s really excited for me!

Why Is “Compassionate Action” So Hard to Come By?

Many of us, no doubt, have had similar experiences in regard to feeling ignored or unimportant to our friends. But, surely, our friends do care about us, right?

The answer is yes, in most cases. But, somehow, that makes the lack of response to the things we love seem even more confusing. So, this is where I began thinking the other day:

Why do people who care seem so uninterested or unwilling to interact with things their friends love?

I talked with my boyfriend about this the other day to parse out why this is happening. It’s something we’ve both experienced a lot in different friend groups over the years.

So, we sat down together - over call, since we’re in an LDR - and we talked about it. We tried to figure out why we both feel this way and others seem not to. For both of us, it’s important to us that our friends are happy. Even if one of my hydrologist friends posted some table he made, that he was really proud of, about stream flow data - something I’m only moderately interested in - I would make an effort to read and understand it and then give excited feedback. It’s not that I’m as passionate about stream flow information as he is, but I would be really happy to see his excitement and satisfaction with his own work. My boyfriend is of the same opinion.

But then, if our friends value our happiness, which we know they do, why don’t they ever give positive feedback about things we’re excited about? We talked over possible reasons for a little while before we finally found one that made complete sense - one that consistently fit the bill for all of the friends that we’d had who never gave us “compassionate action.”

Your Actions Matter

The result we came up with is that most of these people were dealing with depression or self esteem issues. They feel that their opinions don’t have value - won’t make a difference. They think that it isn’t important if they respond because, “Why would sending a heart matter? If I send a heart and don’t respond with an in depth review of how cool the thing is, my friend will just think I’m an ass for not saying more. It’s better if I just pretend I didn’t see it.”

My boyfriend and I both have had some pretty life-changing experiences where other people’s compassion, shown in small actions of recognition and solidarity, have kept us alive or changed our entire day for the better. We’ve learned through our experiences in suffering that those actions make all the difference, and we’ve put that philosophy to work in our own lives. However-

not everyone has realized that this is true for them too.

If you have depression, anxiety, or you’ve grown up in an abusive home, you might feel like your actions don’t matter. You might think this doesn’t apply to you - that you’re the exception and that your friends don’t care what you think.

You’re wrong.

The people around you, even people you don’t know very well, they care about the things you say. It doesn’t matter if you’re depressed or anxious, or an outcast, or kind of weird. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never spoken to them or if you’re best friends.

The things you say make a difference.

The sooner you realize that your opinions and your words have value - have POWER - the sooner you will begin to improve the connections you have with friends.

I grew up feeling like my opinion was worthless and that I should never give it, even when people asked for it. To me, it was obvious that they were only asking because they wanted me to feel included. I look back now and I see that that’s not true. The same way you desire to be seen by others, they desire to be seen by you. One such way that you can make other people feel seen is by showing them that you have put consideration into what they’ve done. You have formed an opinion on it. 

When your friend shows you a drawing they’ve made or they sing you a song they’re working on, more often than not, they are not looking to just show off. They are begging for recognition and are asking to be seen by someone they care about (that’s you!). Give them that. Tell them what you think! Get excited for them!

It’s Not as Complicated as You Think

Not really the kind of art you’re interested in? It doesn’t matter. “Wow, you really put a lot of work into this!” That sentence is a huGE compliment. You are showing them that you find value in what they did and that you see how hard they worked.

Did your friend sing you a song they’re working on and they’re a little bit tone deaf? That’s okay! You don’t have to lie about how you feel to be compassionate. “You show so much emotion in your singing!” Those words will fill a singer’s heart with joy. Not everyone sings to sing perfectly, but to convey their feelings and connect with people. That would make their day!

Is your friend a weirdo like me who enjoys creating spreadsheets? “Holy shit, that must have taken forever!!” Those kinds of words are so so validating. It’s okay if you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s okay if you don’t want to try reading the data in the spreadsheet. What matters to me is that you have taken the three seconds to look at it and form an opinion about me and what I’ve done, even if that opinion is just seeing that I have put a lot of time and effort into something.

No matter what your friends show you, there is a way to show them that you see them and care about them being happy. You don’t have to lie or compliment the work itself, you don’t have to open up your bleeding heart and write a poem about the beauty of their creation.

You just have to show that you see them.

If you struggle to feel that your words have value, I urge you to take a moment and think of the times you’ve tried to share something with someone and gotten no response. I urge you to consider how the tiniest acts of compassion by other people have gotten you through the day. Please know that your words have the same weight.

I can HEAR you thinking that you’re different and YOU’RE NOT. 

Everyone! I repeat! Everyone! Has an impact! With their words!

Depressed people, anxious people, people who were abused, people with trauma, people with disorders, people with disabilities, people who have a hard time finding words, people who feel like they have no talent, people who don’t know anything about the topic their friend is telling them about, people who are young, people who are old, people who haven’t left their room in 3 days, people who haven’t sat down to breathe in 3 days, people who have forgotten to reach out in a while, people who have been self isolating because they’re sad, people who have scared away friends from their past, people who have left friends from their past, people who aren’t very fluent in the language their friend speaks, people who know their friends in person, people who know their friends online, people who are suicidal, people who think they’re not as good as their friends,

Everyone’s actions matter, especially yours.

[chocoholicannanymous]

...As Stupid Does (Teen Wolf) 19/19

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...

This is the final part of this story, and this ‘verse. A bit bittersweet, but honestly? So much relief too. Because as much as I never wanted to abandon this story I was worried that I’d never pull together the focus and energy to connect scattered paragraphs and thoughts into a complete ending.

Here it is though. I hope those of you reading this enjoy it.

Part 18, Part 17, Part 16, Part 15, Part 14, Part 13,  Part 12,  Part 11,  Part 10,  Interlude,  Part 9, Part 8d, Part 8c, Part 8b, Part 8a, Part 7, Part 6, Part 5,Part 4,Part 3, Part 2, Part 1,Not Stupid, Stupid Is… and pre-verse ficlet I’m Stupid (Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me)…

Epilogue

Here's the thing: Stiles is a lucky guy. He's smart enough to realize exactly how lucky.

He's three years through a four year college degree, with a job waiting for him after graduation. His relationship with his dad is stronger than ever. He's got a home also waiting for him, one that's surrounded by two packs full of 'wolves.

He's also got Derek.

And the thing is, he and Derek? They're good together. Like really, really, almost disgustingly good. They weren't back in Beacon Hills. They kind of weren't when they decided to try again, for real this time.

They had spent their first year together fucking up, and god, the amount of times Stiles had questioned not just his sanity in doing this but also his intelligence. But during that year they also started working together, begun healing old hurts and smoothing down their rough edges, and found a way to fit together.

Once that year was over they'd sat down and talked things through.

Okay, they'd screamed some too, and once Stiles had even walked out. But the important thing is that he'd done so in a mature way. He'd told Derek that he was walking out, why he was doing so and that he was coming back once he'd cooled off. And then he'd kept his word.

And they'd done it on their own. No prompting, no mediating, no one coming in to send them to separate corners or patch them up. Stiles is still hella proud of that.

It's been three years now, and as far as Stiles is concerned he's got an amazing boyfriend that he fully expects to spend the rest of his life with.

If anyone had told him this years ago, when Scott had just been bitten and they were scrambling to keep their heads above water – at one point literally – Stiles would not have believed it. At one point he'd have taken violently offense, even without being told said boyfriend would be Derek.

Things have changed. He has changed. Derek has changed. But most importantly? They've changed together.

These days Derek has enough of a handle on himself to not need magic or therapy to make it through a visit. He's still seeing Dr Bianchi occasionally, as is Stiles, but they're both down to a handful of times per year.

And it's not just when it comes to the two of them that Derek has improved. Stiles gets regular reports from Scott, and it's obvious that Derek's a good Alpha these days. Sure, he will only stay an Alpha for a little while longer before handing it over to Cora, but that doesn't diminish his accomplishment. Everyone in a pack benefits from a good, steady Alpha.

Just like Cora benefits from a brother who is all these things.

Yeah, life is good.

The only dark cloud on Stiles's horizon is that he's going to have to go back to Beacon Hills.

Returning to Beacon Hills is, yeah okay, it's not the last thing Stiles wants to do. Reliving the Alpha pack, the kanima, Kate, Allison, Gerard, Peter (though that one's a firm “against” on returning too), reliving his mother's death, living through his dad's death, killing someone, almost killing someone, losing his pack, losing Embry... There are a lot of thing that Stiles wants even less.

But returning to Beacon Hills, even for a weekend, does come very low on the list. Distance has not made Stiles' heart fonder. Returning sadly isn't exactly optional.

Sure, no one's forcing him, but that doesn't mean staying away is an alternative. Not this time. Because Scott is getting married. Scott, who's still only 21 for another couple of weeks, and who used to think that werewolves were the worst (or second worst depending on how angry he was with Derek that day), who believed that he didn't need an Alpha and that Allison had hung the moon, is getting married to a werewolf, one that's not only Derek's sister, but also his soon-to-be Alpha.

And of course said wedding has to take place in Beacon Hills.

Now, Stiles has done his best to talk Scott into eloping, has tried since Scott called him with the news that Cora had said yes, but. Apparently Scott can't see the brilliance in eloping, not even with Stiles's excellent arguments.

“You, me, your mom, abuela Delgado, Derek and Cora. Just the family. No douche pack.”

“What about Peter?”

Seriously? The last thing Stiles had expected to need to justify is why leaving Peter out of, well, everything is a good idea.

“No uncle psycho either. He doesn't qualify as family.”

There's a sound that Stiles knows from years of being Scott's friend means he's nodding in agreement.

“Okay, true. What about dad though?”

“Oh, you know, I figured he'd be my plus one.” That came out flippantly, because he knows there's no way Scott wouldn't invite his dad regardless.

“No, Stiles, what about my dad?”

“He doesn't qualify as family either.”

The words come out before Stiles can filter himself, and he kind of wishes he could take them back, except...

“Look, can I be brutal here? I mean, we both know I'm going to be honest so... When's the last time you saw agent McCall?”

“There was a thing junior year, he came here to investigate.”

Not what he was asking, but a very telling answer.

“Okay, and when's the last time you saw him in his capacity as your dad? Hell, when's the last time you spoke to him? Does he even know about Cora?”

Scott evades the questions, which again: telling.

“He's my dad though, doesn't that kind of mean I have to invite him?”

Stiles snorts. As if.

“I don't see why. Sure, he's 50 % of your genepool, but is he really your dad? I mean, I can't remember the last time he and you shared anything other than your last name, and we both know that's not going to be true for much longer.”

“Yeah, okay, you have a point. He's not getting an invite. That doesn't mean we're eloping though, Stiles. Cora deserves a proper wedding, and I'm going to give her that. Now, you convince her that eloping's a good idea and we can talk about it again, but I'm not risking making her mad at me just because you don't want to subject yourself to Isaac. At least Jackson won't be invited?”

“Small favors, man. Small favors.”

There's another one of Scott's agreement noises before the conversation had moved on.

Of course, Cora had been an even tougher nut to crack than Scott, and Stiles had retreated ungracefully once she'd started threatening his balls.

Really, there was no need to go there. If for no other reason, well, shouldn't she leave the goods intact for Derek's sake?

Of course, Stiles can understand why she's unwilling to let go of the only Hale tradition she still can have, namely getting married in the preserve and in the presence of pack. Every Hale has done so for over 200 years, before they were even called Hale.

(Stiles listens to Derek explain, haltingly, and decides to admit defeat. At least Derek's willing to bypass that tradition, should they one day decide to marry. He'll take that win and stop pestering Cora.)

So, anyway. There's no talking the lovely couple into eloping. Which means like it or not – and trust him, it's not – Stiles is going back. Because it's Scott.

There's also the fact that in a strange way Stiles has waited for this wedding as long as Scott has. When he and Derek had gotten back together the plan had been for Cora to graduate, then take over the Alpha spark and the pack. Two years had felt long, but doable.

And then Cora had asked for more time.

She'd gone straight from school to working at the Beacon Hills sheriff's department and had felt she needed to adjust a little better to that before taking on something new. It'd been reasonable, and more importantly: Derek had been almost unable to deny his sister anything after getting her back from the dead (except you know, figuratively speaking, unlike a certain other family member).

So they'd talked it over and agreed to give Cora another year, moving the transfer to after the wedding. It makes, Stiles thinks, for one hell of a wedding present. If that's good or bad, eh. Who knows.

He'd taken on more classes in order to have a distraction, had worked himself to the point of exhaustion more than once, and nearly driven the people around him crazy. It'd been more than a little overkill, he admits now, but it had kept him from missing Derek too much. It also means he'll be able to slow down a little his final year.

Or take on whatever shiny but totally unnecessary new class catches his eye, probably, but. He pretends he'll take it easy. Derek pretends to believe him. Derek's also made it clear he's going to move to Seattle once he can leave Beacon Hills, and stay there as long as Stiles does. They both pretend it's not partially to keep Stiles from studying himself into the hospital.

Anyway. He's just, you know, going to have to count small favors. The first one being that Jackson really isn't invited. The second is that Lydia, who was, isn't coming either. Once Stiles had gotten over his crush on her he'd kept a measure of fond respect for the person he'd learned existed behind Lydia's facades, even though they'd never really become friends. That didn't change the fact that her not coming was a relief – she's too smart, sees too much, and he would hate for her to figure things out.

Another person not coming is Danny who's transferred his allegiance to the pack near his college where he's, completely coincidentally Stiles is sure, dating the Alpha's grandson. He'd been invited as a courtesy, but told he couldn't bring his boyfriend, and had wisely chosen not to accept. Cora hates him, and he apparently knows it, and Scott isn't to fond of him either.

Those really are small favors though.

A slightly bigger one is the fact that Deaton isn't coming. Not only does he no longer live in Beacon Hills, but he hasn't been invited. While no one had been able to prove that there had been magic on Scott, his opinions on both Derek and Deaton had changed a little too much for comfort after first moving away and then beginning to meditate. Even Scott had noticed, and gotten suspicious.

In the end there had been no protests from Scott as Derek and Cora had ended Deaton's lease of the land for his practice – land he had been granted use of as the Hale pack's emissary and then had kept using free of charge since the fire, knowing he wasn't keeping to the agreement. Once he'd been called on it, Deaton had packed up, sold his home, and moved away.

No one misses him – not even Scott.

However none of that changes the fact that Beacon Hills still has Peter Hale, who is most certainly both invited to the wedding and attending, and who Stiles still sees as a threat. Because, well, he's not stupid.

Peter Hale will stop being a threat the day he dies, and maybe not even then. (Next time, Stiles has promised himself, he's going to make sure Peter gets the Aiden treatment.)

And Stiles is going to willingly place himself within striking distance from said threat, without a protector on hand.

He hadn't even thought about it at first, just assuming he'd have Embry to keep him safe, but it hadn't taken long to realize that bringing Embry to Scott's wedding wasn't an option.

First of all there's the fact that while neither Derek or Cora can feel the supernatural in the LaPush 'wolves unless they're shifting Peter might. Peter, who's not only older and has had the kind of training Derek never got but who also has access to a lot of the Hale pack's lore which Derek had thought lost in the fire. Stiles isn't willing to take a chance on that knowledge not containing something to help Peter identify the LaPush shifters. (This is, incidentally, one of the reasons Stiles is happy Deaton is gone. He too knows too much for Stiles to trust he wouldn't be able identify another kind of shifter.)

Second there's the fact that every single pack member is visibly Native American, and there are only so many tribes. Peter – or Danny for that matter, even though he's not going to be present, but he's more of an annoyance – could locate Stiles far too easily easily with that kind of information.

There's also the fact that Embry would be on a hair trigger simply because Stiles will be, and might shift and expose them.

Most importantly though is that bringing what would look like a plus one to Cora's wedding would be an insult. Not just to her, who's only just gotten to the point where she accepts that Stiles is in her brother's life for good, but also to Derek. Yes, everyone who matters knows that Embry's relationship with Stiles is as platonic as can be, but that doesn't change anything. They smell enough like each other for wolfy noses to know they're not casual acquaintances, and chances are there would be quite a bit of ribbing and speculation. Derek shouldn't have to listen to that, or for that matter look at Stiles walking around with another man when he himself has to hide what they are to each other. Desire for protection or not, Stiles just isn't willing to do that to Derek.

It's possible that Embry could have skated by as the son of John Stilinski's fiancée – and wow, Stiles still hasn't gotten used to referring to Tiffany Call that way (and damn, does that make him glad that he and Embry are platonic, because that's a little to incestuous even as is). Scott would have been okay with both of them coming, had even brought it up, but everyone involved is aware that it'd make Melissa feel uncomfortable. Regardless, Tiffany's not coming either. Like with Embry there's no way of hiding that she's native, making her too easily identifiable. There's also the fact that it just isn't safe.

Tiffany is many things, and a stronger woman than most, but she's not a fighter. If things go wrong she would be vulnerable, and a liability.

Bringing someone other than Embry means the same risk of discovery.

So instead of a werewolf bodyguard or ten Stiles has his dad.

Yeah.

There's also the fact that in the interest of keeping secrets Stiles can't even use the silver lining of more time with Derek. Letting anyone from that pack know of their connection is bad, but the thought of letting Peter know makes Stiles's blood run cold. That means he's going to be within minutes of his boyfriend for days, and yet he's not going to get hugs, or kisses, or a bedpartner. He's going to be at a wedding along with his romantic partner, while pretending he's single.

Yeah.

It's going to suck.

O--o---o--O

The wedding is missing a lot of traditional parts. It's understandable, really, and not just because both bride and groom along with several guests are werewolves. It's just... Cora doesn't have a father to give her away, or dance with her. She doesn't have a mother to support her, an inherited dress or heirloom jewelry. She doesn't have a best friend to be her maid of honor. What she's got is a brother whose Alpha she'll be within days and an uncle that she doesn't trust as far as she can throw him. Or well, as far as Stiles could throw him.

So they adjust.

No one gives Cora away. Instead she and Scott walk up the isle – isle, forest path, same thing – together. Neither of them have attendants, and Melissa McCall's wedding dress stays in its garment bag.

The wedding is small and intimate, with only a handful of guests outside of the pack – Stiles, John, Melissa, abuela Delgado and two 'wolves from Cora's South American pack. It takes place in a glade just on the edge of the preserve and the only decorations are wild flowers and boughs of leaves.

It's scaled-down, but also beautiful in its simplicity, because no one can doubt that these are two people who love each other deeply.

Stiles has to blink away tears at more than one time. His friend, his brother, is promising to love, cherish and honor his girl, and is being promised the same in return. There's not a doubt in Stiles's mind that when they swear to do so until death do them part they mean it. This, he knows, is Scott's life now. It's the life and future he deserves. It's enough to make Stiles's heart swell with love.

And then it hits him. With a little luck that'll be him in a not too distant future. He has to look away not to betray himself by staring lovingly at Derek.

Stiles walks through the door to the cabin he's sharing with his dad. He's tired, both because of emotion and vigilance. His dad's still back at the wedding, catching up with Melissa, but Stiles doesn't have the energy. He's spent the day keeping one eye on the pack, and Peter in particular, and generally hating that he's back in Beacon Hills while loving that he's able to be here for Scott.

It's been exhausting.

Just about everyone else is still celebrating, but once Scott and Cora had left to change clothes and go on their honeymoon Stiles had left too. Pretending that he doesn't want to kill Peter, or kiss Derek, has taken it out of him and he can't do it any longer. He's going back home tomorrow and he can't spend another minute being that close to Derek without being able to be with him. That it'll be at least a month, probably two or more, before he can see Derek again is making it even harder.

As far as everyone but him and Derek knows Scott and Cora are going on an actual honeymoon, for a whole month. The truth is that they'll be gone for a week before sneaking back. The rest of the time will be spent in recovery and training after Derek transfers the Alpha spark. Cora will come back as the new Hale Alpha, but that doesn't mean Derek will be free to leave.

There will be unrest in a pack with a new Alpha, even under the best of circumstances, and these – as so often for them – are not. Cora will need Derek by her side, to support her and calm the pack. Maybe she'll also need him to help take down threats thinking to take advantage of a novice Alpha. Maybe they'll have to deal with Peter...

It'll be a little while yet before Derek will be free of Beacon Hills.

So Stiles is sad, and he's got a headache and he just wants to take some pills, text Embry some and then sleep.

After he's re-ringed the cabin with mountain ash of course.

Stiles pulls his phone out of its pocket, takes off his jacket and goes to throw it at the chair before thinking twice. It's a decent suit jacket and if he treats it right he won't need to go suit shopping again in years. Coat hanger it is.

He turn towards the clothes rack, his brain three steps ahead, and hits a wall, his phone clattering to the floor.

Only there's no wall there.

He scrambles backwards, trying to put as much space as he can between himself and the threat and swears. The door is out of reach and he's trapped.

“Hello Stiles.”

Fuck.

“Peter.”

He flicks through scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how to get out of this, but he keeps running into mental walls.

Stiles is a lot better trained than when he left Beacon Hills, in ways Peter knows nothing about. Under the right circumstances he might have a chance.

These are not.

He's in close quarters with Peter, unable to reach the door before the 'wolf can get to him. He's mostly unarmed due to being dressed for a wedding, and what he does have isn't as easily accessible as he'd like.

Plus it's Peter.

Stiles is going to assume that everything he thinks he knows about Peter's skills and strength is wrong. To do anything else would be to sign his own death warrant. Derek might be clouded by memories of “uncle Peter”, but Stiles has never forgotten the psychopathic killer he'd first encountered.

No, training or no training, Stiles's one real advantage is having a pack, and what being part of it means. Unfortunately he has no idea if it'll be enough.

“Shouldn't you be with the pack, or, I don't know, in your own home? Not breaking and entering somewhere you're definitely not welcome.”

“Oh, but it's not breaking and entering if you have a key.” Which, fuck, did Peter kill someone to get his hands on a backup key? “Besides, I didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier. It's been so long, Stiles, won't you humor me? We're practically old friends, are we not? It'll be like old times.”

“You're crazy.”

“Now now Stiles. That's not very nice of you.”

Stiles snorts, because nice? Not really in his wheelhouse.

“You think I care? When it comes to you? Come now, I said crazy, not stupid.”

Because unfortunately Peter is anything but, making him even more dangerous. Still, the wolf just smirks a little at Stiles's defiance.

“I'm afraid that answer just isn't acceptable. See, I really do need to talk to you. Or well, I need you. I'd like it if you talked to me, but I'll manage either way. You however... You really would do well to humor me.”

Then Peter looks at him, and oh shit. His eyes are flashing back and forth between the electric blue that had looked so good on Derek and a sickly red.

It takes nothing to figure it out.

Peter had called him the clever one, and meant it in a mocking way. But the reality is that Stiles is clever, and knows how to put puzzle pieces together.

And these particular puzzle pieces... Peter came back to life using not only Lydia but also Derek – had drained Derek of life and strength and power, and had tried to steal the Alpha power too.

And afterwards Derek had changed. Had grown more volatile, more likely to hurt someone – more unstable.

Stiles is willing to bet Peter had had a bit more success than they'd realized, that he'd managed to siphon off some of the Alpha power and keep it.

That would explain why Derek had acted the way he had. Why he'd been so easily influenced by the pack's negativity. Why Derek had sometimes acted more like Peter than like himself.

It would definitely explain how the Alpha power had become this unstable, negative force in Derek that he felt was fighting him. He is sharing it with Peter. And apparently Peter is done sharing. Stiles is uncomfortably aware of exactly how little defense he has to put up in regards to a Peter who is no longer hiding his power, who is no longer playing weak and damaged.

The only reason he's still alive is so Peter can use him against Derek.

Because even holding a part of the Hale Alpha spark Peter isn't going to just challenge Derek for the rest of it, or meet him in a fair fight. It's not how he works. Peter doesn't believe in fair, and wants the odds as weighted in his favor as possible. Using Stiles as bait, or whatever, is a way of doing that. There's also the fact that Derek has been getting stronger and better as an Alpha, leaving Peter needing every advantage he could. Even an ambush might not give him the upper hand.

Well, Stiles is going to do what he can to even out the odds a bit.

It helps that he has no reason to believe Peter will let him go after killing Derek. He'll either be dead too, or bitten without concern for his wishes, and forced to obey Peter. His dad will probably be used against him – or, again, killed outright.

Not fighting won't save him – it'll only make it easier for Peter.

“You kept some of the Alpha spark after using Derek to come back to life.”

“Ah. You really are clever. Too bad you've always wasted that cleverness on my failure of a beta and my useless nephew. Yes, I kept some. It should have been mine altogether, but something went wrong.

“Doesn't matter though, because I'm getting it back. I'm getting it all back tonight.”

Stiles stiffens. That sounds really not good.

“I was willing to be patient. To wait for it. Derek isn't made to be Alpha, and I've always known that sooner or later he'd get himself killed, especially the way kept attracting hunters. I could wait. After all, I had enough power to get through most. Especially after getting a little boost.”

That's what happened to miss Blake, Stiles thinks. He doesn't say anything though. It's not time to upset the balance. Not yet.

“It was possible one of the others would have had enough and killed him, but chances were the Alpha spark would have gone to me either way. If not,” Peter shrugs, “a new Alpha, who doesn't know how to deal with the change in their senses? Easy to kill.”

Stiles can see it happen just like that too, unfortunately.

“Everything was going according to plan too, with Derek growing more and more unstable. Given a little more time I might even have been able to talk him into giving up the spark voluntarily.” Like hell he would have. “And then my dear, dear niece came back to life.”

There's something in Peter's voice with couple with the moue he makes that gives Stiles another flash of insight.

“You resent Cora for being alive. You resent her for surviving the fire.”

Peter almost slips into a roar.

“She abandoned me!”

“She was a child! I know you were trained to hide from hunters, to go to ground and stay there until the threat was over. Are you blaming her for doing what she's been told?”

“You go to ground, yes. And then you come back. You don't abandon your pack.”

And wow, hearing that shit from the wolf who killed one niece, tried to kill a nephew, and had just explained how he had been waiting to try again... Yeah, Peter Hale is a hypocrite on top of being fucking insane.

“She abandoned us, and then when she comes crawling back,” which, totally not how it had actually happened, “that useless weakling wants to reward her for it by passing the Alpha spark to her. And they expect me to just take it?”

Fuck. The biggest flaw in the plan had always been the risk of Peter finding out and getting mad. There are contingency plans, sure, but none of them counted for quite this.

“I should have been Alpha after Talia. Laura was just as weak, just as unsuitable, as Derek. She didn't have it in her to take vengeance for our family – she just ran. It should have been me. It would have been me, had I not been burnt so badly.”

Peter's eyes are flickering between red and blue again, but the light in them has nothing to do with the 'wolf. It's insanity, and Stiles makes a quick judgment call.

He's never going to be able to outfight Peter. What he needs is to keep him of guard, while hoping for help to reach him. And as dangerous as it might be, the best way is to go after Peter's ego.

He's calm and collected in a way he rarely is as his brain starts listing sore points to hit.

He starts off by laughing, startling Peter out of his self-righteous rant.

“I might have to take back what I said about you not being stupid. You really think you should have been Alpha over Laura? Dude, you are delusional. You not becoming Alpha after the fire had nothing to do with you burning, and everything to do with the fact that you're a monster. Hell, the only way you had a shot at Alpha-hood was to steal it.

“Derek's fucked up plenty, yes, but even on his worst days he's better than you. He at least is sane.”

His words are working, Stiles can see it, and he continues to taunt the 'wolf.

“In fact, should Derek die today? You're not even in the running to become the next Alpha. It'll be Cora, or Scott if she's not an option either. Hell, even Isaac is a better candidate for Alpha than you and I really don't like that guy. No, you're going to have to kill the rest of your family and the new Hale pack along with them to even have a shot.

“Fuck, if I was that Alpha spark? I'd leave the Hale line – hell, existence even – completely over settling in you. You're simply too corrupt.

“You speak of Derek and Laura not being worthy of the Alpha spark. The truth is that you're the one that's unworthy. The world truly will be a better place once you're dead.”

Peter's eyes flicker back and forth and Stiles is actually kind of surprised he's not already dead. Maybe Peter still thinks he can get something out of keeping him alive.

“Brave words, Stiles, but that's all they are. Words. You don't understand what it's like to be a werewolf, what it means to be in a pack. But I'll make sure you do. Before the sun rises I'll be the Alpha, and like it or not you're going to help me. And as a reward I'll give you what you wanted but were afraid to say yes to all those years ago.

“Once my useless nephew is out of the picture you'll be my beta. Part of my pack. And you'll be good to me, won't you Stiles? After all, you have...experience in being good to your Alpha, don't you?” Peter's voice is silky-sweet around the words, and Stiles shudders with disgust.

What Peter is hinting at is never going to happen, not even if Stiles has to kill himself to make sure it doesn't. Yes, he's made some pretty harsh statements about what was between him and Derek, but not even at the lowest point did that make him feel as dirty as Peter's mere words are doing now.

At the same time Stiles is willing to put money on the fact that Peter doesn't really mean what he's saying. Oh, he might follow through, especially if he leaves Derek alive, but this isn't about any kind of want or desire. This is about scaring Stiles, about rattling him, about making him beg.

He's not going to do that.

“Fuck no.”

“Tsk, tsk. You'll sing a different tune once you're in my pack.”

Stiles laughs again, short and sharp, putting as much mockery as he can muster in it.

“Your pack? You don't have a pack. You'll never have a pack. All you've got, Peter, is two people who shares blood with you and who pity you too much to put you down like the animal you are.

“Really, where's an Argent when you need them?”

That does it. Peter's claws pop, his teeth lengthen and his eyes shine like lasers. Only one of them will walk away from this, and Stiles has finally managed to tip the scales enough that it just might be him. Of course, even almost out of his mind with rage Peter does have some control – he hasn't howled, for instance, keeping it in as to not warn anyone. Stiles's chance is tiny, and it mostly depends on outside factors, but unlike five minutes ago it exists.

Now he just has to be right about a number of factors.

Luckily he is.

The window breaks, glass splintering and flying across the cabin. Peter jerks back as a big furry shape follows and Stiles hurries to to put his back against a corner. Chances are that Peter will win this fight so he's not safe yet, but he's certainly safer than he was a minute ago.

No one had been happy with Stiles going back without Embry. Hell, Stiles hadn't been happy about it. Had it been an option he would have brought the entire pack with him – preferably both even. Jake'd been on the verge of laying down an Alpha order about Stiles and John not going on their own for weeks, the only thing stopping him being the safety of LaPush. Instead he had had to stop basically the entire pack from sneaking off to follow them, same for Sam.

The compromise had been one 'wolf. There had been a fight over who got to go, and even Leah – who still think Stiles is being an idiot – had wanted to go. Of course, Leah is also finally pregnant and no one wants to put her and the baby at risk. (Plus, she's not feeling that great. The phrase “sick as a dog” takes on a new light when you've seen a horse sized shape shifter with violent morning sickness, Stiles decided after seeing Leah sick up to the point where she phased out of her wolf form and fainted. Yuck.)

Embry still hadn't been allowed to go, and Stiles knows why, knows that Jake has a point in claiming Embry's bond to Stiles would cause him to be on edge and risk exposing them in more ways than one. That doesn't make it easier to deal with though.

Stiles wishes with all his being that it could have been Embry.

Instead it had been decided that Collin, as the most harmless looking one, should go and play hapless tourist. He had arrived in Beacon Hills a couple of days ago, and as far as Stiles knows no one's picked up on anything strange about him or his story.

Of course, with Collin being one of the youngest and least experienced 'wolves he's not the one Stiles would have wanted in a fight against Peter Hale.

All he really is is a distraction, but it does gives Stiles a chance. While Peter's attention is on the giant 'wolf Stiles slowly eases the hidden blade from his sleeve and then carefully rips open his cuff.

The mountain ash concealed in the cuff does as it's meant to and falls into his hand. Now he's got a chance.

Provided nothing has gone to hell in the last couple of hours there is at least one other 'wolf near, able to warn others. If it has and they're on their own, then there's always howling.

All Stiles needs to do is get up a barrier and they'll have some breathing room. He just needs some distance between Collin and Peter.

At first the giant 'wolf is causing Peter to be cautious, but it doesn't take long for the man to realize he's the strongest of them. The wolf shape is excellent for fighting and killing vampires, but less so when it comes to another type of werewolf.

Collin yips in pain and Peter strikes again. This time he lands a powerful blow that throws Collin across the cabin. He lands heavily, with a whine, and doesn't get up. Stiles swallows as he sees blood pooling out from the still body.

A 'wolf can heal just about anything, given time. Peter won't give them that though. He's already stalking across the floor with blood dripping from his claws and a sadistic smile on his face. He's fast enough that he could have crossed before Stiles knew what was happening. This slow walk is just a show, meant to intimidate Stiles.

Too bad it just gives him the time he needs.

“You've been keeping secrets. I'll enjoy dragging them out of you.”

It's a promise, meant to invoke, and it works. But Stiles has gotten used to pushing down his fear and working through it, and so he looks Peter straight in the eyes and quips.

“Didn't your Alpha teach you not to play with your prey?”

And then he throws the mountain ash.

He's practiced this very moment over and over until he doesn't need to walk the perimeter, or to have “enough” ash. All he needs is a little bit and his belief.

He's never believed anything this hard before.

“Mountain ash? Always the clever one, aren't you? But your little trick won't save you, or your friend there. You can only hold the barrier for so long, and I can be a very patient man.

“It would be wise of you not to test that patience though. Sooner or later your father will walk through that door, and I would hate to kill him just to prove a point.”

Like he'd let any of them live either way.

“Here's the thing, Peter. You would be wise to leave now. Who knows, run fast enough, far enough, and you might even live to regret your actions here tonight. Because Game of Thrones might be shit about a lot of things, but they're dead right about: 'the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives'. And you, Peter. You're all alone.”

“You think you're pack? You, my useless nephew's even more useless fucktoy? Don't make me laugh.

“Since you're apparently too stupid to realize, I've got you trapped in here. You've got no way to call for help,” and he steps on Stiles's phone, grinding it to components to make a point, “your supposed savior is out like a light, dying as we speak, and your mountain ash barrier is weakening by the minute.”

It's not. Stiles can feel that it's still just as strong, but it's a good tactic, trying to shake the belief holding it together.

“That poor fool is even more of an idiot than that useless beta of mine. He didn't even howl for help. Not that he would have gotten any, but he didn't even try. Pathetic.”

Stiles smirks. No, Collin hadn't howled. But with the LaPush pack mind he didn't need to, not being shifted.

“Peter? This is the 21st century. Proper 'wolves use cellphones just like the rest of us.

And then in a show of timing almost too good to be true Seth and Brady jumps through the broken window as Derek – followed by Cora – break through the door.

Stiles almost sobs with relief. Having Collin arrive had been such a help, but it hadn't really made him feel safe. Not when up against Peter Hale. The same goes for Brady. They're his friends, yes, but they're the most inexperienced of the 'wolves and they're Sam's. Seth is, well, he's not that much more experienced but he's pack. That matters.

It's not the fact that they're four against one that calms Stiles, or even that Derek is there – it's the presence of pack.

He still wishes Embry was with him, but now he dares to believe he'll see his 'wolf again.

Peter is actually looking stunned, faced with another two giant wolves. And is that a hint of fear Stiles sees? It could be. After all Peter has to realize that while Derek and Cora might be swayed to spare him out of sentimentality, these new and unknown wolves have no such compunctions. Stiles wonders if the crazed 'wolf sees his death in their arrival.

He hopes so.

The four circle Peter, cutting of all routes of escape. If he wants to leave he'll have to go through them, and that's not as easy as fighting Collin might lead Peter to believe. They don't attack though and Stiles can't help but think his 'wolves are holding back out of consideration for Derek, and to a lesser degree Cora.

Seth and Brady both know that Peter needs to die, but Derek has had a hard time reconciling with the fact that killing Peter had been necessary the first time. He hasn't even wanted to entertain the idea that it might be needed a second time, and might want to give Peter a chance to surrender.

Or it's just about waiting for the right moment. Regardless Stiles finds himself unable to watch what is about to come. Strange. He'd had no problem watching Peter die the first time, had thrown Molotov cocktails at him and watched Derek rip his throat out without regret. He has been certain Peter needs to die again since about 5 seconds after finding out he was back.

And yet he finds he can't watch.

As Peter lounges, desperately, towards Brady – either having identified him as the easiest target or unwilling to attack his remaining blood family – Stiles burrows his face into Collins fur and tries to shut it all out. They're safe behind the mountain ash barrier, and their friends will take care of Peter without them. They're safe, the barrier will hold, their friends will live, and Peter will die.

Stiles's world shrinks down to those four things, trying to will it into existence.

They're safe. The sound of a large body hitting the wall.

The barrier will hold. A grunt as claws strike flesh.

Their friends will survive. A high-pitched whine and the smell of blood.

Peter will die. A howl rises, then cuts out and is replaced by silence.

Derek and Cora are curled up together, shaking and crying and laughing all at once, both their eyes flashing between red and beta blue or gold. Stiles looks at them and feels a sting. Not jealousy, precisely, because he's got Seth, and Brady, and he's pretty sure Embry is a lot closer to Beacon Hills than Jake really likes, just...

Derek won't be coming back with him.

Stiles knew that already, knew that Cora would be vulnerable after the transfer of power, and that having Derek essentially break away straight after wasn't going to happen. They'd talked about it repeatedly and made their plans accordingly.

It's even more true now, with the added trauma of Peter's betrayal and death, causing her to lose a pack member already that day along with half of her remaining blood family.

For her to lose Derek on top of that... No. Stiles doesn't wish that on anyone. Cora needs to stabilize herself, find her balance again, and both siblings need to be allowed to grieve.

Again, it's no surprise that Derek will be staying in Beacon Hills for a while. It's just... It was abstract before. Now it's right there in his face, and Stiles realizes he wasn't prepared.

Looking at Derek and Cora he also realizes that regardless of what they've said, what they've promised, there's a possibility that Derek will change his mind now that the moment is here. It's possible that Beacon Hills without Peter will be tempting enough that Derek will start seeing it as  his home again. It's possible that he will decide that staying with Cora, and the pack he started, is more important than being with Stiles.

If he does... It'll hurt. It'll even hurt like hell. But if it's one thing Stiles has learned it's this: he can live through that, can heal from it, because he won't be alone. Even if he doesn't have Derek he'll have Embry, and his pack.

But that's not how Stiles sees it happening. Not after everything they've been through to get to where they are.

Derek is going to grieve with his sister, and help her settle, and when he's ready he'll leave Beacon Hills, leave their own personal Hellmouth, and come back to Stiles.

Because that's where they're headed, full circle. When they're both ready things will be different. This time around it'll be Derek joining Stiles's pack. There will be no begging, no miscommunication, no posturing, no self-hatred and no Alpha crap. It'll just be Stiles and Derek, healed and happy and together, trying their very best to love each other and not do anything stupid.

It'll be great.

Stiles believes it with all that he has and is. And his belief? Is magic.

~ The End ~

[nekojitachan]

For some reason I was inspired to write more of ‘The Real Thing’. No clue why....

I thought this was going to be really short, too. Ha.

We’re starting to move things along, time-wise and plot-wise. Seriously.

Last part can be found here.

*******

“So, uhm, how are things going there? I mean, outside of the games, you Ravens are on the usual winning streak and they’re already talking about you making Court with the way you’re shutting down the goal whenever you’re playing, but with classes and… uhm, well, with Nathaniel?”

If Nicky didn’t sound as if he expected Andrew to yell at him at any moment, Andrew would tell him to fuck off and hang up. However, Nicky insisted on sending him care packages (and sappy A/B/O books, which Nathaniel continued to ask him about and allowed Andrew to invent ridiculous answers in return) and checking up on him, so… so Andrew humored his cousin.

(Or something like that.)

“I should make the dean’s list this semester and Nate’s fine,” Andrew said as he fought the urge to tap his fingers against the top of his desk.

“Hmm, just fine? He’s your soulmate.”

Once again, Andrew wished that he could have slit Riko’s throat before the prick had announced to the world that Nathaniel was his soulmate, even as at the same time he felt a deeply buried hint of satisfaction over knowing that everyone referred to Nathaniel as ‘his’.

He needed a drink.

“He’s fine,” Andrew repeated. “Still breathing and has all of his limbs.” All of his very attractive, very flexible limbs.

“That’s not- oh fine.” Nicky was definitely sulking on the other end of the line. “You could be a bit more romantic about finding your other half, you know.”

“Why? He’s my other half.”

“Exactly.” Nicky’s tone softened as he spoke that word. It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Uhm, you hear from Aaron lately?”

Andrew didn’t say anything as he thought about how his twin continued to avoid him.

“Ah, yeah, okay.” Now Nicky sounded sad. “He’ll… he’ll come around. It’s difficult, not knowing where one’s soulmate is when everyone else has found theirs,” he tried to explain. “He’s feeling a bit jealous right now.”

Why would Aaron feel jealous? Andrew had moved away from California and given up any chance of a family he might have with Cass because of his brother (even if it included Drake), had gotten rid of Tilda for Aaron (who really should pay attention when making bargains), had joined the Ravens… well, partially because of the scholarship extended to Aaron (and partially because of the north star mark on his left forearm).

“It’s time for practice,” Andrew lied, unwilling to talk anymore.

“Oh, okay. Tell Nathaniel I said ‘hi’! I can’t wait to meet him, maybe during the holiday-“

Andrew hung up on his insane cousin before Nicky could go any further with that ridiculous plan, then completed his English homework. Ben had gone off to one of the study rooms to talk to his family, and returned a few minutes before the afternoon practice started (for real) with a disgruntled expression on his face.

When Andrew arched an eyebrow over the way his roommate slammed his books onto his desk, Ben huffed and shook his head. “Riko’s being even more of his ‘I’m the captain, do what I say or else’ self.” When Andrew’s drug-induced smile flattened, Ben shook his head again, that time with more vigor. “Nate wasn’t involved! He went after Jordon because of his performance this morning, and then got even angrier when Kevin tried to step in.”

As long as Nathaniel was all right. “What else is new?” Riko had become a nagging little bitch (more of a nagging little bitch) as the season progressed, as he became obsessed with ensuring that the Ravens led not only their district but the entire Class I division in points, as he excelled in both the collegiate and professional leagues.

Which meant that he became a bitter little bitch whenever he felt that he wasn’t given his due as the best striker in all of Exy, whenever someone stole his thunder (especially if it was his own partner) or if he believed that his teammates were lacking. Which meant that the Ravens had to put up with the psychotic prick’s mercurial moods.

Had Andrew said moods? More like tantrums.

At least as long as Andrew continued to either shut down the goal entirely during his time on court (not always possible) or limit the other team to one or two points, then Riko left him (and Nathaniel) alone. Well, the prick wasn’t happy when he ‘politely’ (meaning didn’t shove a knife in their ribs) reminded people to keep their fucking hands off Nathaniel, but it was still possible to play a game with a concussion or broken fingers.

Ben managed a weak chuckle at Andrew’s statement, then they left for practice; Andrew didn’t see Nathaniel or Jean in the locker room, which meant that they were already out on court. That wasn’t too much of a surprise since as part of Riko’s ‘perfect court’, they were expected to put in extra effort (to live up to the ‘perfect’ part), but it also meant that a certain prick expected more of them.

Andrew didn’t exactly run out of the locker room, but he managed a fast-paced ‘saunter’ that got him to the court before the rest of the team. He was just in time to notice a very familiar flush to his soulmate’s cheeks and gleam in those startling blue eyes as Nathaniel watched on while Riko tore into Kevin about – well, Andrew didn’t really give a shit about what, just stopping Nathaniel from getting into trouble.

“Why don’t you-“

“There’s my sweetpea!” Andrew called out right before he used his racquet as an improvised hook to draw Nathaniel towards him; Jean jumped at the loud noise then scoffed at his actions. “Got a kiss for your honeybun?”

“I’ve got a knife for your belly,” Nathaniel gritted out, yet he allowed Andrew to ‘reel’ him in. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Andrew pretended to think about the demand for a moment. “Okay, snugglewoogums.”

Behind them, Jean tried to turn a chuckle into a cough while Riko finally stopped berating Kevin. Nathaniel gave Andrew an incredibly pained look before he shook his head in defeat. “Fine, stick with the first one,” he spat as he ducked his head.

Aware of Riko’s attention on them, Andrew allowed his grin and tone to take on a salacious edge. “I told you I always get my way.” He smacked his soulmate on the ass with the handle of his racquet, well aware that he’d get an earful (and more threats about being filleted) later on, while Riko grinned in approval.

“It seems we finally found someone to tame our wild #3,” Riko taunted; for a moment, Andrew worried that it would set off his soulmate, but Nathaniel glanced over at Kevin, who had hurried to get the rest of the team ready for practice (and away from Riko), and seemed to decide to let the snide comment slide since things had settled down.

It was the usual Ravens’ practice after that (of which Andrew was So. Damn. Bored); going over the Ravens’ drills (and being caned by Tetsuji for any mistakes), followed by learning a new play or two (and being caned for not paying attention) and then a few scrimmages (and more caning for mistakes). Riko was quick to pounce on any players he felt weren’t up to the team’s demanding standards, to the point that Andrew was certain that he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the next time the asshole left for a Wildcats’ game.

As expected, Nathaniel dragged Andrew off to a table in the far corner of the dining hall after practice; no one paid any attention to him eating with his soulmate and Jean anymore, while Ben was fine having his meals with Leif and Toby (who actually said more than two words at a time to him). Jean sat with his back to the other Ravens, which helped to block any curious gazes, while Nathaniel glared as he jabbed a chopstick at the grilled tofu lying on top of his bowl of seasoned rice. “Laying it on a bit thick earlier, weren’t you?” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry very far. “Honeybun?” There was enough malice in the ‘nickname’ to choke a horse (too bad it didn’t choke Andrew and give him an excuse to skip dinner).

Andrew grunted as he contemplated flinging his own piece of tofu as far across the dining hall as possible. “Oh, did you and Valjean want to be beaten for pissing off Riko today?” It was a bit of a low blow to drag Jean into things, but the best way to prove his point.

Nathaniel appeared guilty while Jean gave him a warning look for such dirty tactics, which Andrew ignored. “He’s being a real asshole to Kevin lately for no reason.”

Other than being a jealous, insecure prick, but what else was new? “Kevin’s a big boy, let him take care of himself.”

“Kevin can’t fend for himself once off an Exy court or outside a press conference,” Nathaniel muttered, which made Jean chuckle. “But whatever,” he said when Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You done with your homework for the day?”

“Yes, you?”

Nathaniel nodded. “You… uhm, coming back to the room with us?” He kept poking at the disgusting slab of tofu while a hint of blush spread across his sharp cheekbones.

Despite the fact that Andrew basically went to Nathaniel’s room every night after dinner (unless it was a game night), he nodded and forced his attention on his own dinner while Nathaniel murmured ‘good’ and Jean looked as if he was about to get up and leave the table in disgust.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Once they reached the relative peace and safety (relative) of Nathaniel’s room, he pulled out the German language books which Nicky had sent Andrew (oh how his cousin had been delighted to know that Nathaniel had wanted to improve upon his slight knowledge of the language) so they could work on it that night; they’d taken to alternating between German and French in the last few weeks. Between Andrew’s eidetic memory and Nathaniel’s almost uncanny ability to learn languages, they were progressing rapidly between the two.

(Andrew wanted to know what the hell his soulmate and Jean were saying all the time – and to be warned by Jean if necessary – and to talk to Nathaniel privately.)

Andrew sat on Nathaniel’s bed, all too aware of how close they were to each other, as they went through the lessons that Nathaniel had worked on earlier that day and his pronunciation (which was damn good). They were in the middle of a short dialogue (asking for directions) when Nathaniel’s phone pinged, which was a rare occasion; almost everyone he knew was in the Nest, and his father certainly didn’t bother to talk to him.

Nathaniel’s brows drew together in a puzzled expression as he looked at his phone; Andrew noticed how Jean paused in reading a book to give his partner a worried glance. “I won’t be able to watch the game on Friday,” Nathaniel announced after texting back a response. “Ichirou wants me in the East Tower to translate.”

Andrew felt a wave of… of something dark and possessive and primordial slam into him as a wide smile spread across his face. “Oh, how wonderful, fun Moriyama time. Will Nathan be there to play as well?” He could easily (oh so easily) remember the bruises which had littered lovely ‘Nat’s’ face after his last father’s visit.

Nathaniel twitched at the response, which earned a muttered curse from Jean. “I… no.” Nathaniel shook his head, which caused the workbook in his lap to slip onto the bed and his dark auburn curls to flash through the air. “He doesn’t… not when Ichirou… no.”

The incoherence was a sign of how upset he was, as was the way his hands twisted in the hem of the overlarge black sweatshirt he wore; aware of how he was the cause of such disturbance, Andrew found himself reaching to thread his fingers through those mussed curls without a thought, to leaning forward until he felt his soulmate’s breath warm against his face, until he could see the flecks of pale grey swirl in those icy blue eyes….

A manic part of him urged him on to kiss his soulmate, to feel something, to take whatever he could – for a moment he almost gave into it, too. Then he noticed the naked emotion on Nathaniel’s face, the odd mix of trust and confusion, and found himself leaning back even as his hand wrapped around his soulmate’s nape.

(NathanielwasapipedreamwasmaybetooperfectforhimbutifhetookhimnowlikeTHISthenhe’ddefinitelyneverknowifadreamcouldbecomereality)

“Be certain,” Andrew said, his voice thick for some reason. “Because I feel that I’m due an introduction with your father for some reason, an introduction where I have a very sharp or heavy object in my hand which I make very familiar with him many, many times.”

His soulmate gazed at him for several seconds as if trying to make sense of the words before he gave up and rested his forehead on Andrew’s shoulder. When Andrew glanced at Jean, the French bastard shook his head. “I’m putting my money on the Butcher, not a runt like you.”

“He’s an old man,” Andrew sneered.

“An old man who’s used to fighting off overreaching fools. Up your game, Minyard.”

Andrew gave him the bird while he combed the fingers of his other hand through Nathaniel’s hair; once he realized what he was doing, he forced his hands away from his soulmate. Nathaniel blinked at the loss of contact then slowly rose from the bed. “Aah, it’s late,” he said as he walked toward the bathroom.

Jean waited until the door closed behind him and there was the sound of water running to lean forward and gaze at Andrew. “He doesn’t say much about what happens up in the Tower, but I know that Ichirou doesn’t let Nathan touch him,” he told Andrew, his deep voice quiet in the small room. “Kengo doesn’t stop the bastard at all, but Ichirou does.”

Andrew thought about that as he gathered up the German language books then placed them on Nathaniel’s desk. “Why?” Why did Ichirou protect Nathaniel?

Jean shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t think Nat does, either.”

Yet another question to add to the growing pile of them, but at least Andrew knew that Nathaniel should be safe that Friday. Should. He’d have to wait for a better answer after their game with the University of Vermont’s Catamounts.

(When he was alone, with his soulmate, without any drugs in his system….).

Except things didn’t exactly go that way – Andrew should be used to life fucking up his plans by then. After all but shutting down the goal except for one point during his time out on court, he’d dealt with the usual post-game bullshit, showered, changed and was about to head to Nathaniel’s room (well aware of the clock ticking down on his drug-free moments) when Akagi insisted that he follow the assistant coach to Tetsuji’s office.

He was ready to ignore the man, except Aaron’s name was mentioned.

Well aware that he hadn’t seen his brother in class that morning, Andrew pushed aside the urge to tell the Moriyama lackey to ‘fuck off’ (along with the growing sense of nausea) and tagged along; the rare burst of true anger helped to push back the withdrawal that sunk vicious claws into his nerves until they sizzled with an aching itch that wasn’t quite pain.

Not yet, at least.

Andrew found his twin, bleary-eyed and reeking of alcohol, standing hunched over as to make himself appear even smaller in Tetsuji’s office with some middle-aged man who turned out to be the Dean of Science. He stood there and listened while Tetsuji basically talked the man out of evicting Aaron from Edgar Allan because of the stupid prank he and his ‘friends’ had done due earlier that evening to the stabilizing effect (what a fucking joke) he had on one of the Ravens’ most promising players, and that Tetsuji was certain that he could find something to keep Aaron busy so such an incident wasn’t repeated.

From the look Tetsuji gave Andrew, he knew that such a thing better not happen again, and that he’d be paying for the ‘Master’s’ intervention.

“How could you be so stupid,” he hissed in German while the two men hashed out the details of Aaron’s new ‘work study’ position.

Aaron wavered on his feet while he shook his head. “I didn’t- why the fuck do you care?” he whispered back.

Because the Moriyamas never did anything for free. Because the price better not involve Nathaniel. Because Andrew was always cleaning up for his twin. “You were supposed to stay out of trouble.” Andrew had done what he could to keep track of his brother while on campus, but that task had grown almost impossible between juggling classes, being a Raven, Nathaniel, and Aaron ignoring him the past few weeks. “Not break into-“

“You have everything,” Aaron turned to give him a look that was pure jealousy. “They’re already talking about you making Court, you found your soulmate, what else is there? I’ve got nothing.”

He certainly didn’t have any brains, Andrew thought with growing bitterness. He had a scholarship to pursue his dreams of being a doctor, he had the brother he’d begged for along with the second chance of a future. ‘Nothing’ indeed.

However, it seemed that Tetsuji and the other guy were finished, so away Aaron went, leaving Andrew to find out what he owed for his brother’s latest folly. “I suggest making him clean the bathrooms,” Andrew said as he struggled not to fidget from the growing drug withdrawals.

Tetsuji regarded him in that flat, ‘you are worthless to me’ manner which made him such a cheerful fellow for a few seconds before he leaned back in his big leather chair. “I know about the deal you made with my nephew, both about Nathaniel and being off your medication while on court.” His thick brows drew together very slightly, the only hint of disapproval on his usually mask-like face; if it were during a practice session, Andrew would expect the bastard’s cane to be brought down on him at any moment. “You shouldn’t need any incentive to do your best during a game, but one can be… irrational in regards to their soulmate.”

One could also be irrational as fuck in regards to their psychotic nephew, but Andrew (for once) kept his mouth shut, considering what had happened in the past few minutes, and considering the reference to Nathaniel.

(Oh, was it difficult, though.)

Tetsuji nodded once, as if pleased by his silence. “Your performance on court is exemplary and has helped the team to have one of their best seasons in years. Upon comparing it to how you play during scrimmages, I believe you were correct when you told Riko that you play best when off your medication. That’s why I’ve had Dr. Gale submit a recommendation that you’ve improved enough in the last few months and no longer need it.”

That… was not what Andrew had expected to hear. “He can do that?” He was supposed to have weekly sessions with the psychiatrist, per the whole court sentencing thing, but one of the very few good things about having signed with the Ravens was, due to the hectic practice schedule, after attending a couple of them, the weekly visits had just… stopped. Dr. Gale would swing by the court once a week to technically ‘see’ Andrew, but that was that, and nothing else was said about the matter.

“He already has; along with the recommendations from your professors and me, it’s expected to be approved.” Tetsuji gave him an intent look. “You’ll be checked in to a local rehabilitation center over the winter break and return in time for the spring semester to play unmedicated.”

On one hand, Andrew felt an odd fluttering in his chest at the thought of being off the damn medication early, in no longer having to take it (in being done with it earlier than expected after he’d found Nathaniel). On the other hand, he was being told to do something, and while he wasn’t the twin studying medicine, he could do a quick bit of math and realized that winter break didn’t give him a lot of time to come off an additive drug.

(But Aaron had done it, so why couldn’t he?)

His innate nature to do the opposite of what he’d been told struggled with the fact that this was what not only he owed to keep Aaron at Edgar Allan but was what he wanted as well; after several seconds, he gave the ‘Master’ a curt nod.

Tetsuji nodded once in return. “Prepare accordingly,” was all he said before he motioned for Andrew to leave.

Andrew didn’t waste any time doing just that.

Nathaniel appeared anxious when he reached his soulmate’s room but didn’t ask any questions. He took one look at Andrew and got out of the way as Andrew went straight to the bathroom so he could take the damn medication (only for a little longer) and get ready for bed. When Andrew came out several minutes later, it was to find that Nathaniel had switched out the sheets for him on Jean’s bed.

“Uhm, everything okay?” Nathaniel asked, his expression uncertain.

Andrew took a moment to check that his soulmate was unharmed (at least physically), that the only bruises on him were a couple fading ones from practice earlier in the week. “Long day.” He was too tired right then to talk about Aaron, Ichirou and winter break, too… it was too much. It would wait until morning.

Yet all Nathaniel did was give him a slight, earnest smile and went to fetch something from his desk. “Okay. Ah, here.” He handed over a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth napkin, a hint of pink on his cheeks. “There were snacks and since it was Ichirou… I was able to bring something back I thought you might like. Good night.” That done, he hurried over to his bed.

Andrew stared after him for moment before he unwrapped the napkin to reveal a large chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting drizzled with caramel, topped with a chocolate raven. Despite the slight upheaval to his stomach from before and the fact that he’d just brushed his teeth, Andrew felt his mouth begin to salivate and sat down on the bed so he could spread the napkin over his lap.

The cupcake was delicious, was the best thing he’d tasted in weeks, was a chocolate overload that made him want to groan in delight. Once he was done licking the last trace of buttercream from his fingers, he glanced over at his soulmate, who was pretending to be asleep. “Thanks, sweetpea. Next time, grab at least two.”

Nathaniel made an adorable growling sound before he spoke. “Sure, the more poison, the better,” he grumbled before he jerked the bedding higher up his narrow shoulders.

Andrew began to count the days left until winter break as he crawled beneath blankets.

*******

Excited for what happens in the next few parts. I always knew how this was going to end, but had a flash of actual dialogue the other night and... YES.