#......... i'm going to murder all of them....but you specifically

[ot3]

Just curious, what’s your opinions on Kristoph and Phoenix? I see you reblog ship posts about them sometimes and I’m really curious about your opinions on their dynamic both inside and outside of ship stuff, because I didn’t really know how to interpret Kristoph in particular. I think he’s one of the worse villains in AA tbh, it’s been a while so I may be misremembering, but I just didn’t… get that much substance from him?

kristoph is certainly a really hard character for me to fully develop an opinion on in isolation. i think the only area where i'm capable of saying anything about him i can back up with significant references to the text is in regard to his relationship with phoenix, because that's where the meat of his character interactions are. and more broadly because as a #phoenixhead my primary means of looking at the entire franchise is how things relate to phoenix. if you'd like to read about my interpretation of phoenix and kristoph's relationship more specifically i've got a post on that subject here. i think it's a character dynamic that has a TON going for it relative to the screentime if you're able to disregard canon and look directly at what's in the text.

but more on kristoph individually

kristoph suffers from the same thing that all of aa4's major characters and plotlines do: not getting another game. there was clearly more to the gavin brothers' story we didn't get and will never get, and knowing that there's Something there we have absolutely no means of predicting or unraveling makes it hard to theorize. he kind of exists in a quantum state for me where i can see a ton of alternate perspectives on his character's complexities and just buy whichever one i'm feeling at a given moment. i personally wouldn't say he lacks substance because every interaction he has with any other character is, imo, very compelling and gives me a lot to chew on. but he's a character that's all questions and no real conclusions for sure.

i don't think he's a cackling machiavellian serial abuser. i think hes easily the kind of person who has the capacity to be emotionally abusive and manipulative to the people closest to him without being Pure Evil. because we have so little on him it's very easy to portray kristoph as the kind of sinister that provides whatever OP's favorite flavor of angst is. and i'm certainly no exception to that; i just happen to be a person who is into maybe some subtler flavors.

he's both one of ace attorney's most calculated villains, with poisoning vera's nailpolish being an incredibly cold maneuver that suggests a lot of foresight, and one of ace attorney's most brutal murderers, capable of getting aggressive enough in a moment to bludgeon a man to death with a bottle. i think kristoph can be understood as a character whose primary motivation is control, both over himself and others. there's that critical line in turnabout succession where he tells klavier he's out of control, and klavier says "whos control? mine, or yours?" his reputation is built on his ability to stay calm under pressure, and his ability to stay calm under pressure is built on his tendencies to preemptively engineer situations in his favor. the stuff with phoenix and the gramarye case represents what we can presume to be the biggest failure of his career.

i think this puts him very much in line with AA1's main villains. people like to compare him to dahlia a lot for obvious reasons and there's some fun to be had there but i think it lets people overlook how well he ties into AA1. redd white controlled the press and controlled the judges to get away with his blackmail ring. von karma controlled the witnesses to engineer his perfect cases. damon gant controlled the police and the evidence, and then controlled lana to control the prosecution. although those were all one-case villains i think kristoph justifies his larger scope in aa4 by the significant and longstanding personal connections he has to the rest of the main cast. kristoph represents the mirror image of those AA1 villains; aa1 shows the way the deck is stacked against the defense. kristoph shows what it looks like when someone tries to stack it in the other direction

i think kristoph plays an important part in the larger franchise by showing what corruption looks like from the defense's bench, and how this corruption takes a different cadence when it lacks the systemic power that the villains like gant had. i think his cold, calculated approach to defense works well as a foil to the type of defending we saw from phoenix who is all heart and charges in head first. i think apollo works well representing a sort of compromise between the two, being a little bit shrewder than phoenix but no less earnest. i think klavier, then, as a prosecutor who is much less aggressive than the previous 3 both personally and professional serves to further invert the expectations set by the trilogy in a way that's really satisfying.

is kristoph missing some pretty critical backstory that i would love to see? yeah. absolutely. but i think when you look at him as a story device rather than an underdeveloped character he adds a tonnnnn to the series. that said, i will die wondering.

#ace attorney #long post

[matan4il]

Update post:

Most of this will be about the unprecedented attack of the Islamist regime of Iran against Israel, but first I have to take a second to mourn a 14 year old boy, who was murdered in a Palestinian attack on Friday. At around 6 in the morning, teenager Binyamin Achimeir led his sheep herd out of the farm he lives in, but a few hours later, the sheep returned to the farm without him. At first, it was feared that he had some accident, or was dehydrated, and thousands of people voluntarily joined the search for him. On Saturday, at around noon, the IDF found his body, with signs of brutal violence on it. Based on the forensic evidence, he was murdered by several Palestinian terrorists, and he fought back. The army is still hunting down the murderers. May Binyamin's memory be a blessing.

Right, back to the Islamist regime of Iran's attack on Israel. I posted about it as soon as the news started being aired here, in case someone didn't know about it. The news broke past the normal time when people watch news on TV in Israel, I noticed it by chance right before I was about to turn in for the night. I'm physically okay, but I didn't get that much sleep, I had to wake up early to take care of some stuff, so I AM very tired, which is why I'm not going to do the usual thing I do, which is to look for English journalistic sources for everything, but I have no doubt even the stuff I won't look up can all be easily found online.

On a personal note, I can tell you that at 1:43 in the morning I heard the first explosion, but no sirens went off. A few more explosions followed, and only then did we hear the sirens. It was scary, for a moment we couldn't tell whether we're hearing explosions of missiles from neighboring areas, or whether something went wrong with the sirens, and we need to hurry into the bomb shelter. It seems like in Jerusalem specifically there was some issue with the sirens, I heard a reporter mention it. Also, the alert app didn't go off, even though it should have, at the latest when the sirens did.

This is what the Temple Mount looked like from an Iranian attack that could have easily destroyed the al-Aqsa mosque (it's not in the frame, but it's right next to where this was filmed):

Quick background: Iran is the biggest financier of anti-Israel terrorism for decades now, including funding Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis, all of which have been a part of a continuous attack on Israel since Oct 7 as Iran's proxies. Iran has sent its own military seniors to help and instruct those local terrorists, in places like Lebanon, Syria and Iraq. Israel has eliminated them whenever possible, this is not something new. On Apr 1, Israel carried out such a strike, in which it targeted 7 Iranian army seniors in Damascus, Syria's capital. Iran claimed Israel targeted the Iranian consulate in this city, but diplomatic buildings are all publicly listed. Iran has an embassy in Damascus (in a separate location) and no consulates. That's why the magnitude of Iran's response to this has taken Israel by surprise, because the Israeli strike wasn't that out of the ordinary. In fact, the US assassination of Iran's military commander, Qasem Soleimani, back in 2018, was a far graver blow for the Iranian regime, and yet it did not lead to an attack as massive as the one launched against Israel last night.

It is now known that some of the attack waves against Israel were intercepted by other countries, including The US, the UK, France and Jordan. It's been said that there's at least one more Arab country that helped in intercepting Iran's attack, but it can't be publicized. Many countries denounced Iran for attacking Israel.

We don't have numbers regarding the full size of the attack. Out of all the countries who participated in curtailing this attack, we know that the US has intercepted at least 70 suicide drones and 3 cruise missiles, while Israel has intercepted at least 185 suicide drones, 36 cruise missile and 110 ballistic missiles (that last one is the missile type that causes the most damage). Israel's interceptions are said to have been 99% successful, but like I said, no defence system is perfect. A small number of ballistic missiles did land inside Israel. One hit an Israeli air Force base in the south. There's over 30 people who got injured when rushing to the bomb shelter in the middle of the night (elderly people, including Holocaust survivors, have died from such injuries), and over 30 more ended up in hospital due to severe mental health reactions. On top of that, there's a 7 years old Muslim Bedouine girl who was injured by interceptors debris. A friend of her family that I heard being interviewed said the family wanted to go to the communal bomb shelter, but before they even had a chance to make it out of the house, the girl was hit by the debris piercing into their home, and she is suffering from severe head injuries. The hospital is currently fighting for her life.

The estimate of how much it cost Israel to defend its citizens from this one attack last night is 5 BILLION shekels (which is over 1.3 BILLION US dollars). That's for one night.

Israel will respond. According to one reporter I heard, that was decided as soon as it was clear how big the attack is, so this isn't about how much damage Iran caused, it's about how it crossed several red lines. This is the first time Iran itself attacked Israel itself, it's not an attack on an extension of Israel, nor was it done by using proxy terrorists. Israel has had terrorist organizations attacking it continuously since 2001, but this is the first attack from a fellow sovereign country since Iraq (led by tyrant Saddam Hussein) in 1991, so that in itself is crossing a red line. The size of the attack is also considered an escalation on Iran's part. In 2019, Iran launched a smaller scaled suicde drone attack on Saudi Arabia, and the latter's western allies refused to launch a counter attack, which led to these countries being seen as unreliable, and some Middle Eastern countries renewed their ties with Iran. That's why how it would seen in the Middle East if Israel doesn't react to an even bigger attack, and how it might drive more moderate countries to grow closer to Iran, is another consideration in why Israel must respond. Not to mention that launching such a mass attack basically caused a paralysis of the country once the first intel became known. For example, all educational activity (schools, universities, you name it) has been canceled, Israel's air space had to be closed, every single ambulance across the country had to be manned, and so on. That is not something any country can simply shrug off. Not to mention, Israel financially can't afford this reality to become normalized.

Not to mention, Israel tried to contain Hamas, PIJ and Hezbollah's rocket attacks for decades. What we got for it was the invasion and massacre on Oct 7. The lesson for most Israelis is that containing mass attacks on our population only leads to worse ones.

That said, there's also no desire here of getting dragged into a war on another front while we're still in the middle of one in Gaza and with Iran's proxies on several more fronts. So, Israel is looking for a balanced response, one that won't let this mass attack slide, but hopefully doesn't make matters much worse.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #iran

[nevertheless-moving]

I wrote it. They ask.

"So you're essentially an expert on honor, right?"

Kaladin blinked at Shallan, unsure what to make of the question. The three of them had finished eating, and had moved to a smaller, shared table for drinks, secluded from the rest of the building by a hazy curtain. The conversation had been drifting lazily from the city's latest scandals to squire hijinks.

"What?" Kaladin finally said, slightly confused at the abrupt change of topic.

"Of course you are, you're the first person chosen by an honorspren in thousands of years!" Adolin said enthusiastically.

"I mean—"

"And you always figure out the right thing to do!" Shallan said.

"That's definitely not—"

Adolin nodded. "Never murder anyone in cold blood, even when they deserve it."

Kaladin sighed heavily. "Where are you two going with this?"

Shallan coughed into her freehand. "Well, you see, we've been having a little debate about...honor."

"And we were hoping you could settle it. Impartially," Adolin said, tone serious.

Kaladin squinted at him. There was something off about his expression. "Can't you ask Syl?"

Syl was meeting with some of the honorspren with newer bonds tonight; she had insisted that she could handle it on her own, and that he should take the night off, but he was sure she would be happy to switch places to come by and give her opinion on other people's business; that was practically a hobby for her. He wasn't sure sure where pattern was, come to think of it; he hadn't heard him buzz in a while.

"Actually we did!" Shallan said brightly.

"She was our first choice, no offense," Adolin said. "I don't think she entirely understood the dilemma."

"It's a bit too, well, human." Shallan took a large sip of her wine, emptying the glass, but didn't waive over a server for more.

Kaladin felt dread start to coil low in his stomach, the fragile relaxation of the evening starting to slip away. "...I'm going to regret hearing about this, aren't I?"

Adolin leaned towards him, turning wide, pleading eyes his direction. "Please, Kaladin?"

Shallan matched him. Stormfather. Not so long ago ago, lighteyes looking at him like that would have filled him with derision at most. What had happened to him.

"Fine." Kaladin leaned back in his seat, giving in. He was a little curious, even though he knew he wasn't going to be happy with whatever he was about to hear. "What is it?"

Shallan straightened, as if to give a presentation before the Queen. Storms, I have a really bad feeling about this.

"Well, as you know, I'm a lightweaver, and can change mine or someone else's appearance, such that they exactly resemble another. I can also create an illusion, so that it appears that an individual is present, when in fact, they are not."

"...Yes?" Was Shallan nervous? Adolin didn't kill another highprince, did he?

"Now, obviously, practicing lightweaving by pretending to be someone else, when done entirely in private, I mean just me, myself, and I, practicing my radiant abilities, can't possibly be dishonorable."

"I guess?"

Adolin leaned forward now, one hand gesturing sharply. "But what if I'm there? I mean, no ones suggesting that it would be acceptable for Shallan to assume a specific private individual's form in public."

"Unless it's to save lives," Shallan said.

Adolin nodded. "Unless of course it's to save lives."

"Or as part of my crown assigned radiant duties."

"Or that, can't forget to mention that."

"Or with said individual's consent."

"Naturally, consent makes all the difference."

"Quite a few shades of grey."

"Truly, once you think about it. Infinite nuance."

Kaladin pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling to keep from laughing. "Did you rehearse this?"

Shallan waved her hand in his face, forestalling any other objections. "In any case! Would we be disrespecting an individual, let's call this person 'Lin' for short, would we be behaving dishonorably towards Lin, were I to assume Lin's form, or have Adolin assume Lin's form, or have Lin appear while both of us are present, soley within the privacy of our chambers?"

Kaladin waited a few seconds for Adolin to chime in, but he just continued staring intently at Kaladin.

"...This is about Lyn?"

"No, not Lyn, Lin," Shallan corrected primly. He could just barely make out a difference. "Neutral born unto. Just, we don't want to say her — say their name specifically, but I thought saying 'the individual' would get unwieldy."

Ok, probably not about Lyn. Unless they're using a confusing fake name to make me think that. Wait, I thought Veil was the one who was attracted to women. Oh. Right. He started to feel a throbbing at the base of his skull.

"Is there some specific reason you want to look like... Lin?" He dropped his voice slightly, rubbing his temples. "Is it for a practical reason? Or do you want to make fun of her — them?"

"Definitely not to make fun of them!" Adolin said, voice dropping to match Kaladin's.

"Many people would consider it flattering," Shallan whispered. "For their form to be assumed in this specific context!"

"We're just not certain if Lin would think that, and we're worried that it would be worse to ask."

"So we decided to ask you instead, since again, you're —"

Kaladin waved a hand at her before they could jump into another bizarre routine. "Honorable, yes, whatever, fine. I get it."

Adolin put a hand on his arm, expression earnest. "Look. If you think we should just directly talk to Lin then we'll do it. We just...don't want to embarrass them, or hurt their feelings in someway. We genuinely aren't sure how they would react, and I mean. You don't have to ask someone's permission for thinking about them, but this is a step up from that, and it's not like there's many people who have had the option, so...hence the uncertainty, and asking for a neutral, completely unconnected, third party opinion."

"Alright, I...guess that makes sense? In an extremely weird way." Kaladin looked between the two of them. Shallan's expression was open and honest, but unfortunately that didn't mean much. Adolin was earnest, but there was something weird about his posture. Guilty? Excited? "But why do you want to see a lightweaving of Lin in private so much?"

Shallan pretended to take a sip out of her empty glass. "I assume you can guess, bridgeboy. Is it really necessary for us to say it aloud?" She had just a hint of red staining the tops of ears, but she colored easily. It could just be the alcohol.

"I really don't know," Kaladin said, baffled. "Is this a lighteyes thing? Like you want to, I don't know...model fashion on them?"

"Ooh." Adolin suddenly looked far too eager. "That's actually not what we were thinking."

"I didn't think it was a lighteyes thing," Shallan said. "But I suppose it could be. I don't have a significant enough sample size to presume." That was clearly a joke there that Kaladin didn't get.

Adolin cleared his throat. "Well." He made another sharp motion with his hands, letting Kaladin go. "As you know, Shallan and I are married."

"Yes, I was at your wedding," Kaladin said dryly.

"We are married," Adolin repeated, talking over him. "And that comes with certain... duties and privileges."

"Among which—" Shallan was definitely blushing now. "—and I suppose this could be considered an, ah, 'lighteyes thing,' is well. The need to create an heir."

They can't possibly be asking me this. Kaladin looked desperately to Adolin, but the man just gave him a sheepish, apologetic grin.

A small part of Kaladin curled up and died.

Blood Of My Fathers.

"No," Kaladin said. "Absolutely not. You are not asking me about something to do with your sex lives."

"You see," Adolin said. "I know you've said you don't have interest in, well, any of that. But for many the process of creating an heir is not just—"

"ARGH." Kaladin threw his arms up, crossing them over his head.

"— a responsibility but a pleasure which—"

"Almighty's Tenth name!"

"—can be performed creatively—"

Kaladin pressed his head to the table, burying himself in his arms to hide his too warm face and probably disgusted expression.

"Stop. Please. Stop." He knew he was whining in a way ill befitting a Windrunner of his Ideal, but the booth they were in was private, and Adolin and Shallan had seen him in far less dignified circumstances.

"Sorry," Adolin said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure you understood."

"Well I don't!" Kaladin said, looking up but not lifting his chin from his arms. "And I don't storming want to! Why can't you just look like yourselves! I thought you liked how each other looked! I've literally caught you drooling!"

Adolin frowned. "I don't drool, bridgeboy."

Shallan's face was nearly as red as his face felt, but her expression was significantly more gleeful. "I…there may have been one sparring session I observed…that may have generated a small amount of moisture."

Adolin cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Moisture, huh?"

"I hate you two," Kaladin lied emphatically.

"Sorry, Sorry." Adolin patted him on the shoulder again. "So? What do you think?"

"I think Rlain is right and its a storming miracle humans have managed to accomplish anything when most of us are permanently stuck in mateform."

Adolin heaved a dramatic sigh. "About our question, Kal, come on. We know you don't like talking about this stuff but that's exactly why we needed your opinion! You're unbiased!"

"And honorable, yes you said. Have I mentioned before that the rewards for being honorable blow?"

They turned twin pleading expressions toward him and he caved immediately. Storms, he had gotten weak. "Battar and Shallash, fine," he snapped. "Fine, give me a minute, alright. Just stop talking. "

The two waited, Shallan only opening her mouth to make a joke twice, Adolin successfully nudgeing her quiet each time; Kaladin lifted himself up, elbows on the table and head in his hands as he looked down, forcing himself to actually give it serious consideration.

"Alright," he finally said. "I get that people can't always help what they...think about it. That's fine. And I also know that trying not to think about something sometimes makes people think about it more, so."

Adolin and Shallan nodded. "You have no idea," Adolin said. "Seriously, I love Shallan, I've absolutely tried not looking at other women's — anyway. It's so much easier to just forgive eachother the occasional wayward glance or errant thought." They squeezed each others hands.

Kaladin sighed. "Right. Sorry if I came off as judgemental."

"No, no, you've made it very clear that you don't like talking about such things, it's completely reasonable to be unhappy. We are sorry for the times we...overshare in front of you."

"It's fine," Kaladin said curtly. "Really. I know you try. Anyway. I also understand that people sometimes, er, fantasize. That way. About things or people they don't actually want in real life. And. Uh. Sometimes people... act that out."

Kaladin stared determinedly at the table, face hot. There was a swirling pattern in the marble that he hadn't noticed before.

"You do?" Adolin said, sounding surprised.

Kaladin coughed. The swirling pattern kind of looked like a river, viewed from above. "There. Might have been an incident, early on in the army, when I heard a couple and, er, overreacted slightly. They took the time to explain things in... painful detail. It's fine. None of my business."

"That's. Very open minded of you," Shallan said, sounding slightly strangled. "Tell me, when the couple was explaining things — oof." Kaladin didn't look, but he was fairly sure Adolin just stepped on her foot, something he was infinitely grateful for. It had been an extremely mortifying lesson. The pair had said they weren't mad about being interrupted, but he was fairly sure they were lying, considering how much detail they went into in their explanation.

"Honestly, the whole...dressing weird, or calling eachother names or using ropes or whatever—"

Adolin made a choking noise. Kaladin kept looking at the little river pattern in the table. If he squinted there were mountains and farms too.

"—all that stuff isn't more or less...unappealing. To think about. Then just regular sex." Kaladin paused. "That is not permission to talk about that sort of thing with me. Please don't share anything about your sex life with me, ok?"

"Of course!"

"We know."

"So," Kaladin continued, rubbing his cheeks to try and get rid of the blush. "Wanting someone isn't breaking your vows. Neither is thinking about them. Probably talking about them is fine too."

He ran his finger along the small river in the polished stone. He could practically feel two sets of light eyes drilling a hole in him.

"My concern, of course, would be for Lin. If playing around with their image would affect the real person. My main concern is it will impact the way you two interact with them."

"If we thought it did then we'd stop immediately," Adolin swore without prompting. "The real person matters far more than our...baser feelings."

"Absolutely," Shallan agreed softly. "We truly don't want to hurt them. That's why we've been struggling with this."

"I believe you," Kaladin said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, so you've already been...thinking about them, while together, and it hasn't impacted your interactions with the real person."

"No!"

"Trying not to think of them that way was worse," Adolin said ruefully. "I am...fairly sure they have not noticed any feelings on my part, and even if they had they've ignored them very politely so...like I said, if messing with lightweaveing changes that, we'll stop right away, but I don't think it will. We know who they are."

Kaladin studied the marble some more. He was pretty sure he had flown over somewhere in Alethkar that looked a bit like that riverbend, but he couldn't remember where.

"You cannot do this anywhere someone could possibly see or overhear," Kaladin said, looking up to make brief, serious eye contact with each of them. "Not visiting another city. Not where guards or servants could overhear, even trusted ones. Not in the duelist preparation chamber — yes I know about that. Not while exploring the less used parts of the city — yes, I heard about that too. Not in your sitting room or against the door, where someone passing by could overhear. Just in your own bedchamber, door locked."

"That sounds reasonable," Shallan said, flushing but solemn.

"Very reasonable," Adolin agreed, nodding sharply.

Kaladin grimaced, looking back down at the table. "I think...while part of me says you should ask Lin directly...that also sounds somewhat humiliating for everyone involved. I mean, again, it's more similar to thinking about someone than anyone else, and even if they were, er, flattered... It's not like you would actually be able to sleep together anyway, with your marriage oaths, so it would be a moot point."

"...Right," Adolin said unconvincingly. Kaladin decided not to think about that.

"So... it's alright?" Shallan said hopefully. "With those conditions? Not dishonorable?"

Kaladin forced himself to look up again, and immediately regretted it. They both looked far too eager.

"Not dishonorable," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Thank you!" Adolin said, with way too much passion.

"Thank me by never speaking to me of this again, and never asking me anything like this for the rest of our lives."

"Yes to the first one, no promises to the second," Shallan said gleefully. "Well. Now that we've discussed that matter, how about we get back to talking about—"

"Leave. For the love of all that is good, please leave," Kaladin begged, not opening his eyes. Shallan took advantage of this by kissing him lightly on the cheek. Adolin hugged him from the other side.

There was the sound of spheres tossed on the table and rapid movements, and then they were gone.

Kaladin opened his eyes, shaking his head. One of them had knocked over a glass in their haste to leave. They had, of course, left a small fortune to pay the bill.

He left the winehouse feeling...bemused mostly. Maybe he'd go find Rlain and they could gripe about humans and mateforms together. He would probably not make eye contact for Lyn for the next week, even though he was fairly sure they were talking about Isnah or Beryl. Best not to guess. He kicked off from the ground, the rush of wind immediately clearing away discomforting thoughts or lingering stress of the day.

He smiled, speeding up and feeling his heart race with the exhilaration that only the sky could bring, with no pressing meetings or appointments to get to. Syl had been right. It was good to take a night off every now and again.

#stormlight archive #cosmere #stormlight fanfic #kaladin stormblessed #shockingly sweet and wholesome considering the premise #asexual/sex repulsed Kaladin Stormblessed #Prude kaladin Stormblessed #shadolin #unrequited feelings #nevertheless writing #oathbringer spoilers #nevertheless cosmere #deliberately vague time period but maybe probably post book 5. #Shallan and Adolin are such trash. I love them. #if anyone feels like betaing this for ao3 posting send me a message

[cyborg-squid]

I'm thinking about the moment with Meursault in Canto 6, when he talks about ensuring Heathcliff's safety even if it means forsaking the Golden Bough, as well as Heathcliff stabbing himself with the Bough which I couldn't help but think was inspired by when Yi Sang was stabbed with one, and what I love about it, more than just Sinners becoming friends, 'found family' sort of stuff, is that it comes after this period where. Dante really has a lot of doubts about the Sinners relationships with each other and themself, the fact that the Sinners, and even Vergilius, are all in this for their own reasons and goals. And there's Ishmael pushing everyone away in SEA and her Canto, and even back at the very beginning with the Sinners just murdering each other at 1st meeting.

It'd be one thing if it was like "Oh, they're friends now because they've been fighting alongside each other and have good chemistry" or whatever, but because this improvement in Sinner (and Vergilius!) relations comes after Dantes understandable doubts, and moments of downright unfriendliness and hostility between some of them, makes it so much better.

And of course, it also makes sense after the experiences we've had with the Golden Boughs so far, them showing and reflecting the past of the Sinners, as well as going up against people from their pasts; the characters with the most 'successful' Bough acquisitions, with them more fully confronting their pasts and manifesting EGOs (Yi Sang, Ishmael, Heathcliff), they come to better understand themselves, and of course, the others Sinners (and Dante) who witness it would come to understand and empathize with them as well, at least to an extent!

In a way, it mirrors the Floor Realizations of Library of Ruina; Angela's relationship with Patron Librarians starts in a much worse spot than the Sinner relationships, but it's through these Floor Realizations that the pasts of Angela, and then Roland, and the Sephirot themselves are put on display, are shown truly to one another, where motives and intentions can be understood, even if not agreed with. And of fucking course, doing all the Floor Realizations is the only way to get the true ending, understanding and acknowledgement and change is not only beneficial, it is necessary, not only to the individuals themselves, but to the City as a whole.

It is somewhat of a glib simplification to call the Floor Realizations and then the Golden Bough encounters 'therapy', but it's really not all that wrong.

I'm sure other posters have expressed it better before, but the way the Golden Bough successes have been helping their Sinners, makes me think of the end of LoR, how Angela and the Library can and will change the City and the people of it, for the better, contrary to the apathy expressed by Roland and others earlier in the story. "That's that, and this is this." That's just the way things are. But things don't have to be that way, and structural change begins at the individual level, starting with people being more honest with themselves, an overlapping belief of both Carmen and Angela (which is part of why there's this fine line between Distorting and manifesting EGO, two sides of the same coin).

So what I'm getting to is that I think the Golden Boughs have, in some way, been intentionally released from the Library in an attempt to bring about change to the people of the City, to have people go through positive changes like those some Sinners have had so far. From 'Lament', "stolen from the tree's hand", as well as Dante's new ability having the text "Sapling of Light" (iirc), you have these connections to trees and nature, specifically the Seed of Light project, as well as the 'boughs' of Golden Boughs.

Now, I do think things might not be going exactly as 'planned', the Limbus Company swooping in and taking the Golden Boughs; this attempt at mass self-help being caught up within the corporate gears of the City. Faust, Vergilius, others might have the proper idea of what the Boughs are all about, but you get the feeling that who (Dias???) or whatever is backing the Limbus Company has different motives.

I feel like all this, this idea of what the Golden Boughs might be and their intent, is kind of old news at this point and it's probably already been figured out by a lot of players, I've had it in my head for a while but was only able to properly articulate it now.

#this is like. my cornerstone. #limbus company #my posts #limbus company meta

[masterqwertster]

Ok don’t publish it if you don’t have to but man this weekend is bumming me right out with this “

Yeah, there is certainly some aggression going on against people wishing for resurrection because others find it a poignant narrative that a sacrifice can't be undone, that it lasts and has consequences, that it puts weight to the stakes. And they think that coming back to life after specifically doing something you know will 100% kill you cheapens sacrifice.

Personally, I think that being brought back after you willingly and knowingly and successfully gave your life for others tells a story of how much you're loved. It's your friends saying "Fuck that. You're going to live. We're all going to live. We'll keep dragging each other back until we can't anymore, so fucking be here and fight."

It also adds another level of desperation to be stronger, smarter, to not be caught like that ever again because who knows if you can get them back next time (and however many times you fail after that). Resurrections get harder ever time a person is brought back. This is part of what bit Scanlan's ass right before Bard's Lament: the Revivify didn't take, so the rest of Vox Machina brought in his daughter to call him back during the Resurrection (which he hated) and got the chance to be dicks about bringing him back with the dumb pranks, all of which led to setting Scanlan off. And sure, Bells Hells had that desperation to keep each other alive from the Bassuras fight, but that doesn't mean that the sentiment can't be further sharpened even when you've managed to steal back all the lives of your party members that she took.

Honestly, I think that just having Chet and FCG die against the Murder Machine of Otohan after Bells Hells specifically and successfully went to efforts to get stronger still ups the stakes even if both end up revived. "All our might and we still faced that loss. It would have been all of us if FCG didn't make that play. We still cannot face the enemy leadership head-on as we are. We must get stronger still."

And I really think there's some fun character development to be had in giving FCG a flesh body. Will he actually like what they've envied about the others? How does one handle a completely new body that they're grateful for (that they should be grateful for, otherwise they'd be dead) but is just so different from what they know? Yes, FCG had that last moment clarity that he was in fact already fully alive, but there's definitely some "alive in the flesh" things to explore.

And more faith to explore too. Like, did he get to meet the Changebringer and talk with her in the afterlife? The Raven Queen? Speaking of just being in the afterlife, what about meeting Eshteross again? The other members of the Division of Public Benefit that he killed?

Also, I'm not sure how big a fan I am of the heavy breakdowns that will happen if FCG isn't resurrected. Bells Hells is suffering pretty good as is and I'd like them to have some happiness inbetween all the Moon Bullshit. Conflict drives a story, but you need soft moments to wind it down between heavy moments.

Because truthfully, most of what you get from keeping FCG dead is a bunch of breakdowns in the party without it's most optimistic member who actually advocates for communication, which they all suck at for various personal reasons. And a push towards the Villain Arc path that, honestly, a few are walking just fine without FCG staying dead and/or can still be pushed further down it just by the fact that he decided to kill himself to save their asses when no one wants to let any of the others go.

I do think that as far as martyrdom goes, what FCG did took a nice step away from "giving my life because it's worth less than any one of theirs and I think dying for a cause will give me absolution for the people I rage killed" and into "giving my life because it will save them and I don't know what else to do that will save them." There are certainly posts that get into the distinction between those choices better than I have. Which is where I think the "best ending for FCG" idea comes from, as it happened under the "best" reasoning for FCG to martyr himself. And to a certain degree, people have decided that martyrdom was unavoidable for FCG or that he was just highly prone to it and this was a good time/way to do it.

Still doesn't change that a self-sacrificing character did in fact sacrifice themself, though. Or that it didn't have to be the end that FCG met.

And I understand to some degree how Everyone Comes Back to Life if You Try can feel like it undermines the stakes. Because if no one stays dead, what do you have to fear from walking into mortal danger? Everyone will be fine right? Which is wrong. There is still trauma in dying, even when you're brought back. The realization of mortality, the struggle to steal back a life when it's not just a quick prayer in the heat of battle. And the ever looming possibility that you do it right and it's still not enough to steal them back.

Also, from the wider in-the-game-world's perspective: Resurrection is rare as shit and only people with immense wealth, connections, and/or power even have a shot at it.

Even mechanically it's not easy. You have to mind time limits, expensive costs, body conditions, spell levels and slots, not to mention that the dice can always say no.

So yes, Bells Hells probably needs to go to less effort to Reincarnate FCG than they did to resurrect Laudna because all they're missing is components while they have the likes of Keyleth who kind of owe them for Moon Scouting and killing Otohan and should be able to provide.

#I don't know if this covers it right #but like. there are reasons to leave FCG dead (mostly Sam's wishes) and reasons to bring him back #both are valid and we won't know which way it swings until the next episode(s) #and it's not hating consequences to want FCG back. it's knowing it's possible and wanting that sequence of consequences #like Sam could take FCG back and impose some new limit on them. play “didn't come back right” beyond the new body for consequences #so. ya'know. trust the cast to tell the story and don't get on each other's asses about different hopes for what comes next #MQ&A #critical role #cr speculation #cr spoilers #fcg

[nardos-primetime]

Boy howdy okay *cracks knuckles* I'm gonna forewarn this with my takes on the turtles and Murder is not exactly the popular opinion so take it as you will.

First and foremost for any of the turtles to commit a PREMEDITATED murder (assuming we are talking strictly canon) the only one who would actually plan and go through with this is Leo. "What about Donnie?" No. He wouldn't. Leo on the other hand has shown the kind of rage he goes into not only when his family is in explicit danger but when he believes someone is specifically responsible for that. I don't think murder would be the first thing he jumps to, and it would take quite the scenario for it to wrap around to that (i.e. and enemy that keeps coming back and hurting them) but it's not off the table.

This makes him also number one to kill someone due to a fit of protective anger. So like, if you're gonna taunt a hamato while playing with their lives I wouldn't recommend doing so without knowing where Leo is.

And second is Raph, kind of a similar scenario, but I think Raph's would stem more from fear than direct anger. Frightened that if he doesn't do something, things will get worse, and in a fit of panicked rage well...

Third is Mikey, shocker. It would take a LOT to snap Mikey into a state where he's pissed off enough to actually kill someone but like, we DID see his reaction to his favorite pizza places getting torn down. I feel if at any point he concluded there was no longer a peaceful solution to a fight, he'd bring down the axe.

And my unpopular opinion is that Donnie is at the bottom of this list. MAINLY because he has so many other methods at his disposal to handle enemies. Knock them unconscious, leak all their nudes, dig up tons of blackmail, toss a bomb that makes them itch. Sure he also gets protective anger, but he almost never feels the need to resort to murder to solve a problem. And also, in some cases, he would just think death is a mercy. I truly don't think Donnie would kill someone with intent, but it could happen accidentally.

None of this counts kraang as people all these turtles will exploded these bitches on sight.

TW FOR MURDER, OBVIOUSLY LOL

I did tag for blood but idk

Some Doodles for fun, didn't really have ideas for the other two since I mainly wanted to respond to the concepts overall hehe.

Coming from an overall concept of Canon and it being premeditated and more of a separate kill, I agree that Leo is first in line for that shit. Though, I do feel like he'd have the most potential alongside Donnie to actually get away with it after the fact.

The difference with Donnie is exactly as you said. Donnie's petty. If he WERE to do something premeditated, he would absolutely go for other methods first, maybe even torture if we're hitting something similar to murder. Physical or Psychological. I feel like the difference with a more Canon approach of Donnie is that he would kill on accident. Whether it's going too far in a fight or his tech malfunctioning, I doubt he'd directly go into a fight with murder as the actual intent. Even if he did use other methods, I feel like the most likely case is him accidentally going too far. Especially since we know he has issues with that already.

Leo is one of the most directly dangerous. If he deemed it, you would be easy to get. We're talking about a fast runner with portals and two perfectly sharp swords. He's also good a good manipulator if he really wants to be. It's not hard to imagine him talking someone out of an area of protection if he can't be asked to use mystics that time.

Raph, I agree completely. It would be a mixture of anger and fear that pushes him to that point. He probably wouldn't tell the others. I can't see him planning something out prior and telling the others, I think he'd be afraid of judgment and maybe even fear from the others the most, even if he was doing it for their protection. I feel like overall, he leans the most between accidental and nonaccidental, I could definitely see both happening with him.

Mikey would totally be the most difficult to get to that point, and I agree that it would probably only be if he saw no other way out. But I also think Mikey would be the first to take this kind of position in a battle for some god forsaken reason. I feel like in the heat of the moment, his brothers would be too focused on protecting each other or getting out of there, I can totally see Mikey freezing realizing what has to be done before the others. Leo wouldn't kill anything mid battle on purpose, that's far too risky, Raph and Donnie as I've said prior are likely to have accidents in such a scenario, Mikey would be the only one I can see putting his foot down intentionally in a battle for some reason. Even if his view of the situation is incorrect. Which ironically means he would probably be the most likely one to get caught. (If he didn't crumble under guilt later.)

I feel like in terms of getting caught with the others, Raph would crumble under the guilt as well, likely being the second from Mikey to get caught. Third would be Donnie, as much as he might be able to clean up after himself at first, but without any support in his endeavors and the fact they almost all may be accidents, I think he'd get cocky.

Leo would potentially get lazy, too. Or maybe stop caring when under the context of the others already getting caught. Hell, Leo's extremely adrenaline junky coded imo. Maybe a few of his kills became less reasonable and more him shoving excuses in after getting too comfortable. But by the point the others are all taken in, assuming they can't get out, Leo would probably have one last hoorah in a feeble attempt to break them out. If he ends up doing it, he'd look like a monster but have his brothers back. If he doesn't... well with their luck, they'll at least get cells kind of near each other.

Of course, there are multiple ways to read into things. This is obviously leaning in on a more Canon approach. If we were involving a few more headcanons from me, Donnie would definitely go up to number 2 in danger on the list, lol /hj

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rottmnt leo #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie #rise mikey #rottmnt mikey #rise raph #rottmnt raph #rottmnt headcanons #tw blood #cw blood #writings

[teaandinanity]

It continues to give me the warm fuzzies that basically every person at work has said they'll miss me. And it's not really utility, even if I'm useful; I am not in a critical position. There are many people who can do the things I do, even if the majority are less experienced. I'm not management, or a lynchpin, just a long-time worker bee.

But people like me, and I just handled a Crisis Situation well enough that the AD took the time to personally thank me, and my manager was like 'not only am I willing to be a reference you can use my personal phone number if that's easier' and even some of the newest additions said they're going to miss me on desk, and I just.

I love my job and my coworkers and it's really nice that the people there know it and love me back.

#I told mom about Crisis Situation #and tonight when dad got home she was like COME IN AND TELL YOUR DAD #and then both of them were like WHEN COMPANY COMES NEXT WEEK TELL THEM TOO #haha #I mean dad did follow it up with 'no you may not drive across the country alone we will figure something out' #I'm gonna work on him about it we tried the thing where all of us are in one vehicle #Tuesday screamed the whole time and mom wanted to kill her and also me #I shall remind him of that #I think he will probably come around #if I could convince someone to come with I would probably make it an actual road trip #'come to TX for the eclipse!' #'we will drive through the deep south and hit some Neat Shit and then go up the coast!' #like you could make that a fun drive #I'm not gonna do the long version if I'm solo tho bc my parents are convinced I will be murdered #which is silly; I have not infrequently been in Situations and strangers have been kind #also the odds of getting strangermurdered for no damn reason are SO low #and the incentives to murder Me Specifically are also very low #and if a white cishet-passing woman dies 90% of the time it's a romantic partner and I'm aroace so like #I really wonder what they're imagining is gonna happen #babble tea (blacklist this for less chatter) #tea writes tag novels

[icharchivist]

All of France have been protesting the most recent laws Macron has been pushing and today i'm seeing a fucking tweet from "Youth with Macron" about how Macron now set up a "Free condoms in pharmacy for people under 25" campaign, which has for slogan, and i kid you not, "Make love, not protest :)" i'm going to yell i'm going to yell i'M GOING TO YELL MACRON YOUR PEOPLE WANT TO KILL YOU MACRON THEY'RE SINGING ABOUT BEHEADING YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

#MAKE LOVE NOT PROTEST??? MAKE LOVE NOT PROTEST????????????????? #it's a wordplay bc 'Make Love Not War' is said 'faite l'amour pas la guerre' #and war (guerre) and the specific type of protest where you skip work to go in the street and block things #is called a grève so it sounds similar #BUT HOW DO YOU DO A CAMPAIGN ABOUT 'DONT PROTEST GO FUCK INSTEAD' #DURING 'EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDEROUS ABOUT YOU' PROTEST #IM LOSING MY MIND IM LOSING MY MIND IM- #sorry being french on main again but 1) troubled times currently #2) with my En!Twt dead i spend more time on my Fr!Twt that i use to keep up with the news anyway #please im going tO CRY 'MAKE LOVE NOT PROTEST'????????????????????????????? #ichatalks #yknow how ppl keep saying Marie Antoinette's last words were 'let them have cake' #over the revolutionary crowd that was starving #and that it's historically false (she never said that and her last words were 'oh i'm sorry' bc she walked on the foot of her executioner) #well 'make love not protest' is probably much more accurate to the feeling 'let them have cake' is supposed to give #ie: the tonal dissonance of completely missing out how much your people want you dead #except that out of the two this is the one that is historically accurate #losing my MIND #also yes idk how much macron had a say in this slogan at all #and how much is just the org supporting him #buT YOU CAN SEE WHY IM ?????????

[trashycosmos]

can we talk about the funniest thing of the whole experience was someome who sb me for almost 10 months straight saying they were upset i wasn't nice/distant/cold and didn't apologize for it and when i called out their behavior there was no apology from them they just didn't want to talk anymore lol

#literally laughed out loud reading the message #like one of us wanted was trying to be a murderer without getting blood on their hands (literally) and i'm the asshole bc i had the normal #HUMAN response to their bullshit #honestly they ought to consider themselves lucky i'm much more stable than they are or will ever be #the hilarious cherry on top of the whole fuck sundae is i wasn't even in therapy for at least the last 3 months of it all and they were #which is incredible #also a stark reminder that if (some) people can't be honest with their therapist then why are even you going roflmao #granted ig if you tell them you were actively trying to harm or threaten someone i think they're legally obligated to hold you in a ward #the level of narcissism was u n r e a l #it's not like i pretended to have been a perfect example of how to handle things but! there's! no! rulebook! on handling a sb piece of shit! #the truth shut them down & up so quick it was almost cathartic #kudos to them ig for cutting back on it after but goddess help the next person they try it on and give them the same patience/fortitude #moral of the story (for me) don't lie to your therapist (or another person's) or hide things from them #1) you aren't going to get any better 2) they have spent years learning to read people and they can see you for who you are and 3) you won't #even get the proper medication(s) (if you need it which goddess they need a significant number) for your illness(es) #honestly might explain quite of a bit of their spiral tbh and listen to your therapist when they tell you smoking weed exacerbates paranoia #i'm not saying don't smoke i'm saying smoke intelligently and safely. there's no shame in taking a break to better your mental health first #i've certainly done it #they could always start with why they were yelling about someone oddly specific on different occasions bc you know #it didn't present as suspicious in the least or why they couldn't pay others certain compliments like you're not subtle and again #not to be a broken record but that's what your therapist should be there for! #Falling Apart And Coming Together #i should come up with a label for it for me and when they potentially wanna snoop on my blog again rofl #but to anyone who('s) goes/going through similar i'm so sorry and i hope you refuse to give them the power to influence or control you #it usually comes from a place of them feeling like they have no control over themselves and it shows #i will say the closest i ever got to snapping (meaning yelling) was when they whispered to Nettle they hoped she'd die and manhandled her #several times #accidentally killing a stranger's cat might have awakened something in them but i sure as fuck wouldn't them try intentionally harming mine #or the one's they own #i think they even collected payment still after the incident which is actually sickening

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

[crimson-rain-smoked-flower]

I’m not trying to attack you, but do you know that proshipper means someone who supports and romanticizes pedophilia, incest, and abuse? Your reblog on that post seems to read that you think antis just hate on people for having ships they don’t like. But it’s completely different than that. Just looking on the proshipper side of Tumblr and the internet and you can see people happily shipping children and adults and making nsfw content of such things.

i appreciate that you're not being outright hostile, but i have to say, that on its own put you above basically every anti i've interacted with.

i understand where antis are coming from, i really do. there are a lot of things on the internet that make me deeply uncomfortable, including the minor/adult ships that you mention. i don't want to anything to do with those kinds of ships and i would be happiest if i never saw them again. which is why i'm proship.

nine times out of ten, if i see that kind of ship brought up on my dash, it's because i was following an anti without realizing it, and they brought it up unprompted and untagged, to talk about how bad it is that they exist. they are the ones putting that kind of content in front of my face and making it harder to avoid.

the thing about people who ship those ships is that they're generally very aware that not everyone wants to see that kind of content, and so they tag it. they make sideblogs to talk about it. they don't go out of their way to shove it in people's faces. that means i, and everyone else who doesn't like it, can avoid it.

what antis want is for it to not exist at all. they want the tags to be purged and blocked, and for anyone who uses those tags to have their accounts deleted. and sure, that might get rid of some of it, but do you know what would happen to the rest? it would stop being tagged. people who don't want to see it wouldn't have the tools to avoid it. this isn't just a hypothetical, that's what's happened any time a fan space has tried to do that.

that's not even getting into the rabbit hole of what should be banned and what shouldn't. obviously any content that depicts real children or real life abuse shouldn't exist and shouldn't be allowed to be posted, but basically any platform that people use already enforces those policies, and there's not much of a slippery slope to go down there. if it involves real living breathing people being abused, it's bad. end of discussion.

but the same can't be said for fiction. ask ten antis for a specific list of all the content that should be banned, and you'll get ten different answers. what about kink? what about roleplay? what about horror and murder and anything that involves fictional characters being graphically tortured? what about people using art to process terrible things that have happened to them? what about art that uses dark themes as a horror element? if you just want to ban anything questionable to anyone, that's the line of thinking that gets any mention of lgbt existence banned. and again, this isn't just a hypothetical, this has happened before, and that's generally where it leads.

i know, from personal experience, that antis do, in fact, send harassment to people just for shipping things they don't like. i've gotten accused of absolutely vile shit for shipping two fictional characters who were both consenting adults. i've seen ship wars turn into moral battlegrounds, over ships that an average person wouldn't bat an eye at.

the thing about "romanticization" is a whole other can of worms. the anti logic goes like this: if someone sees something (even if it's very obviously fictional) in a positive light enough times, they will start thinking it's okay in real life, and go on to hurt real people. the problem with that is that it's just. blatantly untrue.

if it were true every horror movie fan would be a serial killer, every person that studies dark media would be an unhinged psychopath, and everyone who is into ddlg would be a pedophile. but they're not. they just aren't. people have directed movies just as fucked up as the darkest shit on ao3, and are still capable of being normal human beings who know right from wrong in real life.

even if someone is that impressionable, scrubbing away the existence of every piece of questionable content isn't going to solve their problem, because they're still going to be vulnerable to con men, scams, and cultists. the only thing that would actually materially help someone like that is developing their own morals and critical thinking.

children are also more impressionable, and there's a lot of content that's not suitable for them, but that doesn't mean that content shouldn't exist. it just means that they should stick to spaces designed for them (which most social media sites, tumblr included, are not) or, if they're old enough to be responsible for their experience online, they, or a trusted adult in their lives, should block and filter out things that they aren't comfortable with.

which is what everyone on the internet should be doing. it's what i do, and it's made the internet a much more pleasant place to be. and it's why i sometimes worry for antis mental health, especially teenagers, because they're being told it's right and moral to seek out content that makes them uncomfortable and to engage with the people making it. and that's just. really bad. it's not good for the creators that they're harassing obviously, but it's also really bad for them! it's not healthy to seek out things that make you feel bad, and it's a terrible internet safety lesson to teach minors that it's okay for them to seek out and engage with people making adult content.

individual harassment and crusading is never going to succeed at removing dark content from the internet. it just isn't. at best you might get a small percentage of people who create that content to stop sharing it, at worst you're just going to make people stop tagging it, and either way, you're exposing yourself to things that make you feel bad, when you don't have to.

if you want to materially change the type of content you see, you can. the block button is your friend, use it liberally. same with content filtering and tag blocking.

#oops this got really long #cd.ask #proship #disk horse #tw pedophila mention #uhhh what to tag #tw shipping discourse #this doesn't even get into the antis that i've seen proudly professing that they care more about fictional characters than real people #because i don't know how to explain to someone that real humans matter more than cartoon characters #or how to avoid content on platforms other than tumblr bc frankly thats a lot of the reason i don't use them #i don't trust an algorithm #also im turning anon off after posting this so if you want to send me hate you cant be a coward about it #also be prepared to get blocked and ignored #the only reason i answered this person is bc they weren't being hostile

[needle-noggins]

(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.

I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!

Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.

So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.

It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.

Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!

Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:

Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.

Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.

The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??

Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!

#trimax #trigunbookclub #cw assault #cw sa #ive never tagged content warnings before please help if i didnt do it well enough #cw sui ideation #vash the stampede #millions knives #also if you say ONE WORD about plancest i will kill you with my mind because you have sorely misunderstood the point here #posting this makes me so nervous ngl #dont hate me

[queenie-the-court-jester]

HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit

- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!

Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day

you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝

Yandere playboy x reader

Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior

💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?

💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house

💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times

"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"

💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..

💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can

💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity

💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.

"my love..? Is that you!?"

"..who?"

💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..

💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.

💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them

"...slut."

💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..

💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.

💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register

"thank you, please come again-"

💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love

"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."

💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #queenie writes #queenie ocs #ocs #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #Yandere oc x reader #Oc x reader #Oc #Kameron the playboy #yandere headcanons

[astolfofo]

…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

-

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.

#yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #sunday x reader #sunday smut #yandere hsr #yandere x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sorry if i butchered your ask its like. late rn. 💀

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I am posting and responding to this ask anonymously as I don't want anyone harassing its sender. This has already been communicated with the person who sent the ask.

I just want to thank you for being a light in the darkness of anti-semitism, especially on this website. I have found I am on this site a lot less ever since it was made clear that other leftists here are more anti-semitic than we ever knew possible, using very specific wording of our own trauma against us (i.e. saying stuff like "colonialism", "genocide/ethnic cleansing", and calling JEWISH PEOPLE Nazis). It feels like, at best, they know Hamas ≠ All or even most Palestinians, but think that they think all JEWS = Bibi; and at worst, agree with Hamas and think of him as some sort of "freedom fighter". So, thank you from one leftist Jew to another, just trying to keep afloat here. ❤️

You are very welcome; it's certainly been overwhelming, and I'm glad this can be a safe space for you.

I do want to push back on some of this ask, though. Specifically in regard to terms such as "colonialism," "apartheid," "genocide," and "ethnic cleansing."

The use of these terms is not inherently anti-Semitic. For a lot of people, these terms are the best ones they have access to describe what they are seeing. I do think such terms as “colonialism” and “apartheid” are overly simple in regard to the last ~3000 years of Jewish history, and that they cast the situation into an alien historical context which dilutes and uncomplicates the all the historical realities at stake, but I truly do not think that all who use these terms do so to cause Jewish people pain.

Further complicating the picture is that terms like "colonialism" aren’t completely wrong. Modern Zionism arose in the context of mid-nineteenth century European large-scale movements towards nationalism (ie, the creation of nation-states) and away from the multi-national empire. Jews—a subject of anti-Semitism and fifth columnist suspicions within those emergent European nations—reacted to all this by joining the nationalism game.

What’s ironic, is that those European Jews who founded contemporary Zionism were reacting to the exclusion and racial hatred with which Gentile Europeans treated them, and then once they had some settlements in Palestine, they deployed similar variants of racial hatred at both the Palestinian Arab population, and Middle Eastern Jewry.

The existence of a distinct people and ethnic group in Palestine before the aliyot were not something the first generation of Zionists were concerned with. Because they were part of the same shitty, white supremacist, pro-imperialistic intellectual European tradition to which they were responding as victimized parties. As time went on and Zionist thought spread across Ashkenazic communities, we can see some variants. Some forms of far-left Zionism in twentieth century Poland, for example, actively built the presence and rights of Palestinian Arabs into their ideology, some of them actively stating that Zionism could not be a success if it necessitated transforming Palestinian Arabs into a group of secondhand citizens and a cheap source of labor in their own home.

Those leftist strands of Zionism tended to be Socialist/Communist in nature, and centered around the idea of life in Eretz Yisrael as one of a series of self-sufficient communes. Thus when the 1930s hit and things start to go bad, the Zionists we see fleeing to Palestine tended to be of the more centrist and far right variants. The left wing, socialist movements, already operating as a collective, had a membership uncomfortable with fleeing to safety while the rest remained behind.

And that same socialist/communal attitude, is why those variants of Zionist thought never made it into the Israeli political mainstream; most of their members and proponents were murdered in the Holocaust in part because they refused to leave their comrades behind. The General Zionists and Zionist Revisionists who rode out the years of the Holocaust in Palestine therefore already had access to the avenues of power which would become important in 1948, when the British Empire shrugged off its responsibilities towards the regions it colonized and destabilized.

Now, as for ethnic cleansing. I can’t sugar-coat this: that’s what the Naqba was. It was ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arabs from their homes to make way for the Jewish State. The manipulative shit (but still somehow extremely prestigious) youth group I was in taught us that Arabs call it Naqba because they hate Jews and therefore existence of Jews in the Southern Levant was a tragedy, as was the fact that Hitler didn't finish the job.

That’s garbage: it’s called the Naqba because it was ethnic cleansing. And that's not the fault of the Holocaust survivors who made their way to Mandatory Palestine/Israel in the late 1940s--they lacked political power, and were often looked down upon by those who did; the Holocaust as part of Israeli National Mythology wasn't an immediate Thing.

If you spent your formative years around older Jewish folks of A Certain Generation, whose trauma has pretty much placed a permanent block on their ability to see some of what went down in 1948 for what it was, I can’t blame you for having that gut/cognitive dissonance reaction to the use of “ethnic cleansing” in the context of Israel and Palestine. I know those older folks. I loved them. They’re mostly gone now, and I miss them terribly. But their trauma-induced view of everything lives on in the ability of some younger Jews to properly name and understand what it is that happened in 1948.

It was ethnic cleansing.

Further, not only were Palestinian Arabs ethnically cleansed, but the Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) Jews who were forced by their governments to flee their homes of thousands of years and seek refuge in Israel throughout the second half of the twentieth century…the Western and Central European Jews in control of Israel and its institutions treated them like shit too. Hadassah actively stole the babies of Yemeni Jews, told the parents that their children were dead, and rehomed them to Ashkenazic couples. There were death certificates. Members of the Ethiopian Jewish community were forcibly sterilized, and their ongoing treatment by the State is racist and generally atrocious. And this analysis of the relationship between the Israel State, MENA Jewish populations, and different Ashkenazic groups in Israel is horribly short and overly simple.

As for genocide. I honestly don’t know. I do know many people, who are very much not Anti-Semites, who are calling what’s happening in Gaza right now genocide; many of these people are also Jewish. I know many others who refer to the experiences of Palestinians between 1948 and now as a slow genocide. Many of these people are also actively not anti-Semites, and many of them are Jewish.

So these terms, as uncomfortable as they may feel for people within the very specific Jewish generational background I believe we share, are not deployed as anti-Semitic weapons. Nazi comparisons? Yes. Swastikas superimposed over the Star of David? Yes. Very specific hook-nosed Jewish caricatures in relation to Israelis? Yes. Blood libel shit? Yes. These are all anti-Semitic, and are deployed to hurt and retraumatize Jewish people. But the rest are not nearly that simple.

And I didn’t learn this from like, Bad Evil Post-Modern Academics at Columbia University Who Hate Jews; I learned this from doing graduate-level work in the field of Modern Jewish History, and working in Jewish archives; this did not come from outside the building.

Now, as for Hamas as freedom fighters…that’s ignorant at best. Hamas’ charter clearly calls for the global destruction of the Jewish people [ETA: they edited this part out in 2017 for PR purposes], and their actions as rulers are horrifically, violently, homophobic, and seem to be more abut provoking Israel than they are about governing and protecting their people. But as you said, Hamas isn’t all Palestinians, and it’s also not all Palestinians who consider themselves freedom fighters. (A second reader of mine had the following commentary on this paragraph: "Might need a bit more complication around Hamas? I know that's not your area of expertise but it's worth mentioning that they were basically set up to undermine the PLO and what would become the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank. You're right that they aren't representative of all Palestinian thought and resistance, and that they are on some fuck shit.")

So while I’m so glad that blog is a comfort to you, I encourage you to also take a step into some of your discomfort, and ask yourself where it comes from.

No one reading this post has my consent to use it to silence other Jewish people who are in different stages of their journey towards understanding how generational trauma has impacted their ability to grasp all of this. Further, if you choose to attack me for gently calling my people in, you're a piece of shit and I will be mean to you.

#jewish history #israeli history #palestinian history #history of zionism

[kaisacobra]

Let You Go - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!

third part of Second Best

It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?

She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.

Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.

The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.

The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.

"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"

The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"

"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"

Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"

"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"

She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.

"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"

I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.

"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.

Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"

Broken, she wanted to say.

The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."

"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.

"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"

As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.

She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.

Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.

She was going to change. She had to change. For you.

_

"That was pretty good!"

The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.

"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.

That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.

It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."

"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.

You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.

It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.

Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?

Best Twin: Sam misses you

Best Twin: We all do

You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.

Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.

It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.

But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.

Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.

At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.

But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.

You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.

They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.

"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"

Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."

"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."

As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.

"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."

You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."

"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."

There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.

If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.

So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.

_

Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.

Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.

But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.

She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.

Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.

Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.

In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.

When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.

The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"

Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.

But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.

"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.

You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."

Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.

"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."

"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.

Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.

But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.

"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.

You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."

Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."

"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."

"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"

Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."

"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"

"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"

Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."

"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."

"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.

You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.

She wondered if that's what you two were now.

The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.

"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.

"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.

The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."

Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."

It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.

The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."

Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"

"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."

"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."

"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."

There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.

Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.

It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.

And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...

Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.

_

The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.

The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.

You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."

You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"

"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.

"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.

You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."

"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.

"Of course, I care, I love you!"

"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"

"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"

"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"

"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"

"Tara..."

"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"

"Tara..."

"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."

"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.

Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.

You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.

She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"

A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"

She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"

"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.

She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"

"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"

At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.

You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.

"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.

"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.

"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.

You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.

And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.

The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.

You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.

"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.

The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."

With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.

She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.

Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.

She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.

Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.

Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.

If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.

---

Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.

There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.

For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.

She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.

After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.

It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.

Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.

That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.

"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."

"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."

This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"

"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."

"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.

"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."

The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.

They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.

Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.

But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.

And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.

"Tara, who-"

"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.

"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.

"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.

"Tara..."

"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."

Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.

Someone much better than her.

Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.

For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...

Now it was time to let you go.

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