#trying to cover all possible spoiler tags for anyone who has them blocked sorry

[stellas-and-tonitruses]

⚠ SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 AHEAD! ⚠

now that we have finally met demetrius, it seems like a great time to dissect his first scene and proper conversation! :]

his wide, unfocused stare hides ✨unexpected complexity✨, as expected of a desmond

he's impatient (common desmond trait at this point)

he's nonchalantly exceptional, as we expected and have been repeatedly told thus far

...but most importantly, amidst a sea of accomplishments, he is burdened with a lack of people skills and visibly frustrated by it, as evidenced by his conversation with damian in this chapter.

the analysis and speculation continues under the cut!!

so, a breakdown of the main meat of his introduction

similarly to every single time there's an interaction between damian and another desmond, damian is the one who reaches out first by calling out to demetrius, who immediately asks him what he wants. damian tries to begin with small talk, congratulating him on his accomplishments of the day

demetrius is brief and to the point, but it doesn't feel to me like he is annoyed here. perhaps curious, perhaps indifferent, we don't know -- demetrius is a boy of few explanatory thoughts, after all

merely in the next page, demetrius is revealed to have a blank mind for most of this conversation.

i don't believe this is a sign that demetrius was experimented on or anything. obviously, this does not rule out that he has been experimented on, but i don't think his lack of thoughts are indicative of that, nor do i believe anya was too far away (in previous chapters, she has read the thoughts of people at greater distances than this with ease!). i think this has something to do with his upbringing, but also very importantly his state of mind at the moment

his eyes are wide open, but his stare is unfocused. i think this is an intentional choice to hammer in that he's not really here at this moment, listening to what is undoubtedly to him pointless praise. he has likely tuned all of it out completely.

(as a side note, if we wanna involve anya in this situation more, we could assume that he is intentionally cloaking his thoughts from anya or any other potential mind-readers, but while i do think donovan is very likely involved in project apple, i severely doubt the financial benefactors of project apple would spend likely a lot of money to figure out a way to shield the thoughts of a middle schooler, regardless of who his dad is, from potential telepaths. as far as we know, anya is the only one with this specific power and demetrius is unlikely to have any information that would incriminate the operation. if that was an issue, i don't see why they wouldn't spend their money to protect melinda's mind, since she likely has way more info than demetrius ever could.)

moving on from that side note though,

we do not see demetrius' face as he says this! this is important to me

we are left unaware to whether or not he is disappointed or just trying to abscond to take a nap (he really needs one)

but then, he says this:

this, to me, is a direct attempt at connecting!! he's trying to reciprocate the small talk, the praise, trying to continue the conversation. his thought, "i don't understand him," may feel contradictory but to me, it only underlines his frustration about this, because he knows what damian is going to say next:

even though it was expected, this is not what demetrius was hoping to get out of this. his downturned eyebrows give a feeling of discontent. he is not blank, he is visibly frustrated, visibly annoyed.

and we are thus made aware of a boundary demetrius and melinda both share:

never mention donovan.

for one reason or another, this is the boundary damian has overstepped with both his mother AND his brother now, without ever being informed that it IS a boundary in the first place

so demetrius, upset, turns around to leave and throws this at damian:

this is important, because damian has shared a very similar sentiment to anya before, albeit in a mournful tone.

demetrius likely feels similarly neglected by his parents, but is long past feeling sad about it. he has moved straight to anger, understandably!

but the bigger reason for his frustration, imo, relates to a problem damian once again ALSO has: people treating them as a gateway to their father and nothing more.

demetrius has more than likely also been treated like this, and probably still is unless his peers have learned not to engage because of his brief, snippy responses, so he is familiar with the feeling of being used.

...and damian unknowingly treated him the exact same way, even though he's also grown to hate it.

of course, he's 6 years old and he meant no harm by this -- he's just a lonely boy trying to be noticed by his neglectful parents, after all, what else could he possibly do?

but for demetrius, this is the end of the conversation. he is not his father's manager, he's not even that close to him, so why does his brother only ever talk to him when it relates to their father?

as he said before: he doesn't understand him, and why he keeps doing this. does he not know there is little info to be gained?

he doesn't understand their father either, with his impossibly high expectations, never pleased, never happy, never available

and lastly, as ewen and emile try to introduce themselves

demetrius has one final thought.

and he casts aside this entire conversation, leaving the scene as empty as he entered it.

of course, the chapter doesn't end here, but this is where demetrius' involvement in it does, leaving us with a newfound understanding that while to damian, demetrius represents everything he can only strive to become... to demetrius? his accomplishments ring hollow in the face of everything he wishes he could understand.

we do get an extra flashback that hearkens back to a better yesterday, but while donovan is lacking some very important details (those scars, that dead disinterest that follows his every move -- he seems mirthful somehow here), we don't know if this scene represents a time when they were closer or if it's simply evidence that as far back as everyone can remember, demetrius has been doing nothing but studying all the time

could this be evidence of something nefarious relating to project apple? eh, not particularly, not to me. the boy's just studying hard, any relation to project apple would have to be more recent in the timeline imo

TL;DR:

demetrius has been built up throughout the past 92 chapters as a figure larger-than-life, and this has been thanks to most of our knowledge of him being directly affected by damian's perception of him, as the younger brother living under his shadow

however, he has now been humanized by his flaws: a short temper and a lack of social skills that comes paired with a clear want to connect, to understand, to converse. he seems to be a very lonely kid, everyone around him either jealous, putting him on a pedestal or actively seeking to use him under the false impression that he has important connections, and although he doesn't mean to, damian has unknowingly been treating demetrius in the same way, only seeking him out when he wants to know something about donovan.

interestingly, him and melinda share the same trigger, that being donovan himself, though we do not yet know if their reason for this is also shared.

CLOSING THOUGHTSSS

it has been so exciting finally meeting this little goober-- i thought i might never see the day 😭😭😭

thank you to whoever read this far, i literally made this blog just now so! HOPE I DID WELL!

💖

[illyaana]

Squiggles - Oikawa Tooru

Thanks to @pocky-writes for this collab! It was so fun to do~ Check out all the other writers involved in the collab here ヾ(•ω•`)o

Tags: Oikawa's POV, Angst, Minor Fluff, Cursing, Kissing, SFW, Manga Spoiler (Oikawa and Iwaizumi's future jobs)

Synopsis: You entered Oikawa's life - and it hasn't been the same ever since. (If I give anymore, it'll be spoilers TwT) (I also named Oikawa's sis Miho-)

Word Count: 4334

⋯⋯ ⫍ SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Liked my writing? Do you want a drabble specifically made for you about your love life with a character of your choosing? Check out my 50 followers event over here!

All stories are basically a squiggly line - it has ups and downs with multiple loops in random spots. Some parts might be thicker or shorter than others, but all points of the story make up a giant, huge squiggly line that either brings you joy or sadness. I wanted my story to be as thick and long as possible - to outshine all the other squiggles the world has to offer. It was going to be the best squiggle ever until you came along and made it loopier and uneven.

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I remember the first day you came into our class so vividly.

I had rushed to the school to copy Iwa-chan’s homework. The Kitagawa Daiichi blazer I wore was soaked in sweat thanks to me running a few blocks in several minutes. Of course, Iwa was in the classroom, waiting for school to start. He had rolled up his sleeves and was reading the literature component assigned to us - the very book I never touched ever since volleyball practices began.

“You are of a different breed, Oikawa,” Iwa-chan mumbled as he passed his book to me, “This is the last time you’re doing this.”

No, it isn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

I pulled out my book and began to move at top speed, hoping I would finish before class began.

That’s when you opened the door, breaking my concentration.

You were glowing. The school blazer seemed so big on you - as if someone with a bigger physique gave it to you - but you look so precious in it. You had a jump in your step, a wide smile plastered on your face. Your hair looked so soft even from a mile away. You seemed so at peace with everything - even when you entered a new school.

You carried yourself with such confidence it scared me.

I loved being the confident one, the hot one, the cheerful one - yet you stole those roles from me the second you walked into the school campus.

I didn’t know what I felt; was it inferiority or was it just pure admiration? Maybe a combination of both?

All of this… It was so new to me.

I was always surrounded by those who were eager for my approval - to be part of my posse and be connected to me in some way, but I just wanted to be around you. It was the first time I ever took an interest in anyone excluding my volleyball team.

It’s weird, isn’t it? The feeling of warmth rushing through your skin, but your throat just feels tight - it doesn’t want you to say anything you would regret, so it tries to hold you back. Your palms sweat and become clammy, goosebumps rise on your skin - it is so freeing yet restricting.

I wanted to come and welcome you to the school - maybe take you around the school grounds, show off a bit at the gym, find out who you are as a person - if I got lucky, even get your phone number.

“ ‘kawa, are they new? I feel like I’ve never seen them before…” Iwaizumi asked, pulling on my rolled-up sleeve.

Of course, this had to happen, didn’t it?

Iwaizumi tried to cover his red face with his arms, but he was failing miserably. His forehead began to sweat, a trail of water dripping down his chin. His chocolate eyes glowed just like your skin - so much so you could see the hazel flecks within them. His whole arm was covered in raised goosebumps, just like mine.

He was attracted to you.

“I think they are,” I replied, hiding my feelings with a smile, “Why Iwa-chan? Oh my god Iwa, you’re blushing!”

Iwaizumi threw a book to my face, earning a groan from me.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he says, blushing in a deeper red, “...but yeah, I think I do.”

“Well, if you want them to swoon for you just like how almost all the girls of the school do for me, I can help you. Just with the daily fee of milk bread during recess, I can turn your single ass into a full-fledged bachelor!” I say, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I'll buy you milk bread for lunch, either way,” he mumbled.

“See? It’s basically free, isn’t it? The best part of it all; it comes with a free gift! A box of milk every day so that you can grow taller-” Book number two found its place on my forehead once again.

“You’re such an idiot,” he says midst chuckling, “Thanks for the offer, Tooru. I think I’ll do this by myself, though.”

“Ok, then! Just so you know, the offer is always on the table,” I smirk, teasing the shorter male even more, “Don’t forget the milk.”

“I am never buying you anything ever again.”

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Classes went on as usual, but I couldn’t focus at all.

I kept on staring at you from my seat - enjoying every single thing you did. I saw how you’d raise your shoulders in frustration when you couldn’t understand a question, how you’d bite the end of your pencil when you were focusing on the class, how you’d play with your fingers when you were stressed - I was taking mental notes without even realizing it. I loved all the small little huffs you’d make when you’re agitated. Judging by how you were speeding through most of the questions, you seemed to be a smart student.

I kept on playing small scenarios that I would do to get your attention.

Maybe I’d ask you a question and act like I couldn’t understand the whole topic so that you could tutor me, or I should just ask you about your opinions on the essay topic we discussed in class, or I could tease you about that small thing you did in front of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.

But I would never do that to Iwaizumi.

My mind replayed that small scene of him blushing just at the mere glance of you. If he could, he would’ve already gushed about you to me - tell me all the things I already knew just by looking at you. He’d go on and on about how you squinched your nose when you drank that hot drink a bit too early and burnt your tongue.

His squiggle was already slowly moving around you, making a loop fitted for you and you alone - and I will happily watch from the sidelines when you two finally become a thing.

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“Welcome back, Tooru!” My sister said from the kitchen, “Give me a minute, I’m helping mom prepare lunch.”

I placed my bag in front of my room and headed to the kitchen.

“Don’t make poison, please!” I tease her, enjoying the annoyed expression on her face.

“Tooru!” Mom sighed, “We’re inviting our new neighbors for dinner today. Go shower and get ready.”

I stuck my tongue out at my sister, earning an anger-filled hum from my mother. I ran to my room and soon headed to the shower to get ready.

Slinging the white towel on my shoulder, I head back to the kitchen area and set the table for the meal.

“Where are they from again?” Miho asked Mom.

“They’re apparently from Tokyo. The father passed away recently, so the mother had to bring the rest of the family to Miyagi to reduce the financial burden. Sad, isn’t it?” she replied.

“We should help them here and there,” Miho started, “We don’t need to give them money, but maybe help them get used to the city?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t present in the conversation ever since Mom mentioned Tokyo.

“Do they have a kid my age?” I ask, hoping that I’m wrong.

“I think there’s one that just transferred to your school?”

Please, don’t be who I think it is.

The doorbell rang, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I slowly headed to the door, gripping the doorknob tightly as I slowly opened the door.

I was right.

“Hello, Oikawa-san! It’s me, Y/N, from your class,” you said, a smile on your face.

“I just wanted to thank you and your family for your generous offer, but we can’t join you for dinner today,” you started, “Mom has to go get some things settled before she can come for dinner. Sorry, again…”

“What about you? Have you eaten anything yet?” My mom asked as she walked towards the door, “If you want, you can eat dinner here and bring some back for your mom.”

“Really?!” Your lips widened, “Thank you so much, aunty!”

You sat right beside me, just like Iwa-chan does when he comes over. I loved seeing you talk so comfortably with my family. I could see my mom’s adoration towards you when you talked about your life back in Tokyo. Your eyes lit up when you talked about your family - even if you were talking about your father.

You didn’t know it yet, but your presence makes my squiggle a little lighter.

“What school are you going to, Y/N?” Mom asked.

“I’m going to Kitagawa Daiichi like Oikawa-san. I am in his class, actually... “ you trail off.

“Do you want me to walk you to school? I don’t mind doing it, but Iwaizumi would be joining us too. Are you okay with that?” I ask, gripping the ends of my shirt.

For the first time in my life, I hated the fact I had to be beside Iwaizumi.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san. It means a lot,” you smiled.

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I regret asking you that question.

I had to see Iwaizumi try to flirt with you.

I had to see how you’d occasionally lean your head on my shoulder when we walked to school until Iwaizumi met up with us in the middle of our walk to school.

I had to see Iwaizumi carry your bag - something I wanted to do.

I had to see Iwaizumi make small jokes to you - something I wanted to do.

I had to see you enjoy Iwaizumi’s presence - something I wanted you to only feel for me.

I had to let it happen in front of me, didn’t I?

Books and movies never compare to the real thing; to see the person you love gush over someone you love like a sibling.

But you were closest to me, not Iwa-chan.

You came to me when you had problems, not Iwa-chan.

You stayed over at my place to relax, not Iwa-chan’s.

You watched movies with me, played games with me, told secrets to me - not Iwa-chan.

Your squiggle intertwined with mine more than Iwa-chan’s.

“Tooru,” you said as you played with the rogue strands of my hair as your head laid on my lap, “Do you want to go out on a trip?”

“What? Why?”

“We’re graduating, but we never had a trip together. It’s weird, isn’t it?” You say, slowly getting up.

I pushed your head back on my lap, earning a muffled squeal from you.

“It isn’t, to be honest,” I say, “...but I do like the idea.”

“So, we’re doing it?” you say as you wiggle your feet in excitement.

“Yeap. I’ll ask Iwa-chan if he wants to join,” I say as I grab my phone.

“I was kind of hoping that it would be just the two of us? I haven’t been able to talk to you without anyone intervening for a long time, and there’s a lot I wanna talk about.”

You looked at me, hoping for some reaction, but I couldn’t say anything.

If I was not friends with Iwaizumi, I would’ve said yes almost immediately.

I know I love you - ever since I saw you, I have.

But Iwaizumi deserves someone amazing like you.

I don’t.

“Tell me, then! I don’t think Mom’s coming home anytime soon and Miho is working right now, so there isn’t anyone who’d disturb us now,” I say through gritted teeth.

I felt your disappointment when you sighed and moved to lie down on my bed.

“I guess I’ll tell you another day.”

I felt your squiggle moving away from me - moving on without mine.

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Soon, our one-week trip to Tokyo began.

Thanks to months and months of pestering, our parents let us go by ourselves to the city you grew up in.

I could see everything in your eyes, thanks to your stories about this place. The small, quaint shops, the smell of freshly made Taiyaki at the side of the road, the small kids running on the pavement while being chased by angry parents - all of it.

“Oikawa!” you patted my shoulder, “That’s the bakery I talked about last time. You know, the one with amazing cheese tarts? Oh, that’s where my dad gave me my first cup of coffee!”

Iwaizumi chuckled as he focused on the road, admiring your love for the city.

“Why are you laughing, pine cone hair?” You tease Iwaizumi, trying to get more reactions from him.

“Nothing! You sound cute, that’s all,” he said as he focused on the road.

“Oh, really~?” You move closer to Iwaizumi and whisper something in his ear, making him blush instantly.

There it is.

That icky feeling I hate.

Why did it come now? I was with Y/N and Iwaizumi - the people I care about the most.

Go away.

Get out.

I don’t need you.

“Well, I’ll just chaperone Oikawa then, Hajime. Have fun all by yourself in a huge city you don’t know well,” you say, teasing him even more.

Hajime.

They said Hajime - not Iwaizumi.

“Geez, get a room, you two.”

“Sad I’m taking your husband away, Tooru?”

“The fuck, Y/N!” Both Iwa-chan and I scream.

You laugh as you lean back into the backseat.

“What? You both are an old couple,” you begin, “Oikawa is the flamboyant one and Iwaizumi is the man that’s only gay for Oikawa and actually thinks before doing something.”

“Did everyone think I’m gay for Oikawa?” Iwa says under his breath.

“Yeap,” you reply, “Many girls were sad, to be honest. I kept on telling them you’re straight, but they didn’t listen,” you shrug.

“And me?” I ask.

“You were labelled as the hot pansexual, lucky you,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Why did no one tell me…” Iwaizumi said to himself, worried.

“Honey~,” I began teasing the ‘pinecone’.

“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa.”

“ ‘Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa’ - why don’t you give an actual nice nickname for the brunette over here,” you ask him, playing with the stressed driver.

“No.”

“Do it or I’m calling you pinecone for the rest of your life.”

“No.”

“Do it or I’ll tell them-” I say before getting cut off by Iwaizumi himself.

“Prettykawa.”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” I wiped my fake tears, “He called me pretty! Darling~”

“Oh my god, Oikawa,” you say, laughing as I hug Iwaizumi’s arm.

Our squiggles were intertwined and in a good way - that’s all that mattered.

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“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi looked at me with a serious face, “I think I am going to confess to them tonight.”

Wait, you are?

Please don’t.

Don’t take them away from me.

I need them.

Iwaizumi, please don’t.

“Finally! It’s about time you made your move - I think they like you too, so you have a shot.”

It’s true - I see how they stare at you.

Their eyes are filled with admiration, lips fixed in a soft smile, their hands grazing your cheek - they love you as much as you love them, Iwaizumi.

“Thanks for supporting me, Tooru. It really means a lot to me,” he says as he hugged me, “Thanks for being my best friend.”

I haven’t been a good friend, Iwa.

I fell for the same person.

I want to steal them from you so badly, but I can’t bring myself to hate you.

I want to hate you so bad, but I can’t.

This feeling… I hate it.

“Thanks for being mine, too.” I smiled, but the smile never reached my eyes.

You’re taking them away from me, Iwaizumi.

You could’ve gotten anyone else, but you took them away from me.

I don’t want to feel this - this hatred growing within, yet here I am, cursing you in my head the minute I see you.

“Go! Why are you wasting time?” I say, pushing you towards the door.

I saw the smile you gave me as you ran to her room.

You are such an amazing person, Iwa-chan.

You can care for someone who deeply hates you.

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I saw how they were basically draped around you for the next few days. They looked so happy just to be beside you.

Each day, their eyes spoke stories of love for you, Iwa. They used to come over to my place and gush about you every day, like a ritual.

You’re so fucking lucky, Iwaizumi. This isn’t fair.

They’d go on and on about your physique, your personality and the small things you’d do.

Congratulations, they finally paid attention to the things you did for them. I’m happy for you, Iwa.

I am happy for the two of you, truly.

They are truly happy.

I could’ve never done that - never.

I just wish I wasn’t walking towards the gym that day.

I saw your first kiss under that tree - the tree the three of us used to spend under while waiting for practice to start.

I saw how their hands gripped on the back of your head, pressing themselves on you. I saw how you gripped their hips oh so tightly as you showed them your passion towards them. I saw how breathless they looked the minute your lips left theirs. I saw how they grazed your chin whilst staring into your eyes in admiration.

I pictured how it would’ve been if I was in your position.

I would’ve held them tighter, pressed my forehead against theirs so that our noses would brush against each other. They’d play with the ends of my hair, going on and on about how soft each lock was like they usually do. They’d eye my lips as I stared at their soft and supple lips. I’d press the tip of my thumb on their bottom lip, enjoying the view of their parted lips made just for me and me alone. Slowly, I would kiss their cheeks, hoping for some cute reaction from them. From their cheeks, I would drag my lips to their chin, placing soft kisses here and there.

I would then press my lips against theirs, enjoying the soft noises escaping their lips.

But I never will - you’re theirs as they’re yours.

Of all places, why did you have to choose there?

I can’t come back here without thinking about that kiss now.

That icky feeling…

It’s back.

Go away.

Get out of me.

I am happy.

“Damn, Iwaizumi,” Matsun said as he approached the gym, “Y/N’s really in love with them, huh?”

“Shut it, Matsun,” Maki said, looking at me.

Of course, he’d notice.

I am in love with his friend's girlfriend, after all.

“What? He’s telling the truth; they’re so in love with each other they can’t even see that three people saw their first kiss!” I shouted, earning a growl from the black-haired male hugging Y/N.

“Out of all the times, Shittykawa…”

“You better run, he looks feral!” You shouted, laughing.

“You sure he wasn’t feral ever since he initiated that kiss? I saw that hand wandering, Iwaizumi~!” Matsukawa shouted as he ran to the gym.

“Iwaizumi isn’t innocent anymore. You aren’t part of the gang anymore man, stay back,” Hanamaki said, wiping a fake tear whilst gripping his sides, “You’ve grown up too quick, Iwa-senpai.”

“You okay, ‘kawa?” Maki said as he turned to me, rubbing my back.

“I am fine, Maki. Go ahead - go to the gym, I’ll come in a minute,” I gave him a nod as I walked to the toilet.

That day was the first day I cried over someone in school, and hopefully the last.

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“Tooru… Tohru…” You mumbled.

“Yes, my name is similar to the main character’s. What about it?” I sigh.

“We should get you a cat. Who knows, you might kiss it and it’ll become a girl?” Iwa chirped.

“That’s a cat version of Princess and the Frog,” I say, annoyed.

“Stupid,” you hit Iwa’s thigh, “Get with the program.”

Iwa groaned as he rubbed his leg, “That was really painful, dumbass.”

“Tohru, he called me dumbass,” you whined.

“I am not Tohru - it’s Tooru.”

“Brown hair, all of the people around them falling in love with them, high pitched voice… that’s you,” Iwa joked.

“Major flaw in your theory - I am not a girl.”

“Alternate universe Tohru then,” you said, enjoying the banter.

“Tohru plays with animals, I play with a volleyball team.”

“How do you know she isn’t in a volleyball team? It was never specified she isn’t part of a volleyball team.”

“It’s never specified that she is part of a volleyball team,” I say, clearly annoyed by this conversation.

“I’m getting you a cat - a ginger one,” Iwa said, grabbing his phone from the side table.

“Don’t get me a cat!”

“Get him a cat, love. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll love it,” you said, leaning against Iwaizumi’s chest to see his phone screen.

“Holy shit,” you said, holding back a laugh, “He’s actually looking-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” I scream, making both Iwaizumi and you laugh loudly.

“I was looking at a cat meme, stupid.”

I sign out of frustration and look back at the TV screen, avoiding the mischievous couple.

I eyed the way they were sitting on the couch.

You were seated in between Iwaizumi’s legs, their back pressed against his front. Their hands played with Iwaizumi’s left hand, fiddling with his fingers as they stared at the screen in front of them. Iwaizumi wasn’t looking at the screen though - he was staring at his lover who was fully immersed in the scene unfolding in front of them. His right hand grazed their right hand, enjoying the feeling of them comfortable in his arms.

You looked happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The last episode soon finished and you looked to the ceiling, stretching your neck.

“So sad it’s over,” you said, smiling.

“At least it had a good ending. I don’t think I need to remind you how heartbroken you were when we watching Banana Fish’s-”

“Don’t remind me - I’ll cry here and now.”

You got off the couch and walked towards the kitchen to get a drink.

“So,” you plopped on the couch, leaning against Iwa, “What’s the final plan, Mr Tohru?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your life after high school, of course! What’s the plan? I know Hajime is planning to be a trainer, but you never told me what your plan is.”

Hajime.

Hajime.

Hajime.

Again with the Hajime.

Just use Iwaizumi, for fuck’s sake.

“...Tooru?”

I snap out of my thoughts. “Oh.”

“You’ve been out of it recently. You’re okay, right?” You say as you walk to sit beside me.

I chuckle, looking at your concerned face.

“I’m good - just stressed about life, that’s all. I am not so sure as to what’s the next step, but it’s going pro.”

You hug me from the side, placing your head on my shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you, now? Aren’t you scared that you might make Hajime jealous?” I tease.

“I don’t know - I just feel I need to do this, like a feeling that you might do something rash.”

I felt tears wet the side of my shirt.

My eyes darted to the sight of you, sobbing, gripping on my shirt.

“Don’t you dare forget me, okay?” You say through sniffles, “I sure as hell won’t forget you.”

I cup your face in my hands, wiping off the trailing tears.

“I won’t.”

You made a huge loop on my squiggle, Y/N - I don’t I can ever forget you.

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TO: Y/N (2:30 a.m.)

It’s been so many years, Y/N.

You’ve blossomed into the amazing person I knew you’d be.

I saw Iwa-chan recently - after all, he’s training the Japan team.

I actually made it into a team - the Argentinian Volleyball team.

I kept on doubting myself, but you kept on reminding me of how good of a setter I was back in high school.

I know you’re busy being the big person in your industry - congrats on all the awards again, I keep forgetting to contact you.

If you’re down, maybe we can call? I miss your voice.

I sent the message, hoping you’d reply as fast as you used to when we were in high school.

I looked from the hotel window, trying to imagine how the scenery is back home in Miyagi.

The roaring fields, the birds flying in the sky as we walked down that small pathway, that traffic light you’d draw on while waiting for the cars to pass - I remembered it all.

I remembered it all just because you were part of it.

Funny, isn’t it? After so many years, I still think of you.

Not as my friend’s lover, but mine.

I shouldn’t have invited Iwaizumi to that trip.

I should’ve just kept you all to myself - protect you from the world.

I should’ve just kept Iwaizumi out of your life - not let him in at any point.

I should’ve just told him how I feel about you.

I tried so hard to get over you, Y/N.

I met so many other people, hoping they could fill up the hole you left when you left me for him. I had so many sour relationships just because I was comparing them to the rhetorical you that I dated. If the world had given me a second chance, I would be standing beside you - I would work to provide for you the best the world had to offer.

But in the end, your squiggle was meant to grow without mine. I had to accept it and move on, as much as it hurts.

Covid 19: Angst train :)

All reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

[silver-wield]

Hey so I was wondering if you did/could do an analysis on clouds various panic attacks ptsd episodes and how he responds to each one I’m interested to read your thoughts on each one since you usually bring a new perspective to the table for me so thanks for that!

All of Cloud's ptsd attacks? Damn, that's a lot of searching I've got to do. I might not find them all. I'll do my best but you'll have to let me off if I miss a couple lol

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be long.

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Please check my master post to see if I've already covered your question, thanx

Recap time!

I explain Cloud's entire backstory which covers his PTSD and other issues here, so that should do for a recap right?

A further thing to note is that PTSD affects people differently and in Cloud's case it manifests as a psychological taunt in the form of Sephiroth. Embodiying his sense of failure, lack of self-esteem and self-actualisation, this version of Sephiroth is the one that Cloud reacts to the most strongly. This is the one that makes him whimper with fear and react on instinct instead of observing the situation and attacking. This is the one he fears, and it's a part of himself wearing a monster's face. Why Sephiroth? Who else has done him more harm? Sephiroth killed his mother, Tifa (so he assumes), burned his hometown to the ground and was indirectly responsible for his best friend's death, too.

And Cloud couldn't do a thing about it. He is the manifestation of everything that Cloud hates and fears about himself. Because of this, he's dissociated from much of his feelings. He still feels, but at a lesser degree than he should were he fully in touch with his real self.

Moseying on.

The first PTSD induced attack isn't actually prompted by Sephiroth himself, although he does feature in it. Cloud's first attack happens when he sees the destruction of sector 8 and buildings burning. This gives him the association of the last time he saw a burning building, which happened when his village burned. The sensory input of sights, sounds and smells prompted the memory, which combined with the high stress situation and Cloud's own latent anxiety and guilt for his part in this chaos.

You see a close up of Cloud's eye as it widens and real!Cloud's memory pushes to the forefront of his mind – remember, these memories are things SOLDIER!Cloud can't access at will, which is why they cause him pain when it happens.

Theres a static noise in the background, which is meant to convey a type of ringing in Cloud's ears and then the building's facade morphs to that of his house with the fence around it.

While much of what Sephiroth says is in line with this being a separate being from Cloud and not merely his own subconscious taunting him, there are elements of it being a combination of both. This is in line with the OG where Sephiroth was able to get in Cloud's head and make him doubt his own sense of self. With what we know of how Jenova's cells manipulate Cloud, it's believable that Sephiroth is both a separate being manipulating Cloud to his own ends and partly an aspect of Cloud's psyche that exists to push blame on him for everything. It's the representation of his mental illness that he struggles to fight.

Obviously, there's no fire, so Cloud sweating and breathless is because they're physical symptoms of his PTSD induced trauma.

Sephiroth's taunting lines about how he killed Cloud's mother are overkill when you consider the real Sephiroth's personality. The combination of the overarching Sephiroth and Cloud's PTSD version make a powerful foe that he never really beats. This is a metaphor for the fact those with mental illness are never really free. It's a lifetime battle and even if they're in recovery, that demon is just waiting for one weak moment when they can get them back in their grip.

You can hear Cloud gasp in this scene as once again Sephiroth appears to taunt him. He's not fully recovered from the last attack and now there's another right on top of it. Sephiroth appearing is once again partly Cloud's own trauma and partly the Jenova cells in him warping his perception and allowing Sephiroth to mess with him.

Unlike the time before, this Sephiroth vision is a simple taunt that Cloud is too weak to save anyone. This is his guilt and self-loathing talking about how he couldn't save his mom, Tifa or his town. It could also be hinting that he couldn't save Zack either.

The hidden implication of this scene is the fact that Sephiroth puts his hand on Aerith's shoulder. This is the only time Sephiroth touches anyone besides Cloud.

The next time Cloud has an attack is during the reactor 5 mission. This happens because of Tifa's presence drawing out the painful memory of the Nibelheim reactor where he believed she died after facing down Sephiroth.

Even in the midst of his PTSD attack he looks to Tifa. She doesn't know what's happening with him and he backs away from taking a chance to confide in her, but even during this moment when he's showing weakness he has very good eye contact with her. He's looking her directly in the eye, which he wouldn't do if he wasn't comfortable with her. This shows that Cloud sees her as a source of comfort and support.

You can see the lingering doubt on his face here after he dismisses the attack. He's not aware of what the memory means because he's not in touch with the full story – that belongs to real!Cloud kept hidden away. He knows it's left him unsettled and feeling like a failure. This is one of the few times I've seen that Cloud doesn't dismiss out of hand the content of the attacks.

Tifa repeats a phrase she said back then and Cloud's sense of failure surfaces, causing him pain and to freeze up. We get a voice over from real!Cloud referring to the time he believes he let Tifa down. Before the SOLDIER persona can get too deep into it or question what he means, Barret yells for him to focus. Cloud shakes off the paralysing feelings, but that doesn't stop Tifa asking it he's ok, which he dismisses again. This is typical of truama survivors pushing their feelings down and attempting to function without ever truly dealing with the source of their pain.

This next flash is prompted by the events during chapter 8 where the children get into trouble and Cloud has to rescue them. It echoes a similar even in his past where Tifa climbed Mt Nibel and fell, despite his best efforts to save her. She spent a week in a coma and Cloud was blamed for the incident and told to stay away from her.

The past emotions of guilt and failure mingle with the present situation to prompt a flash of pain as the memory of Tifa surfaces. It's his feelings of guilt and having failed her that cause the pain, not Tifa herself because when he says to Aerith he doesn't know how to explain he turns to the spot where he saw the vision of Tifa and smiles wistfully. This means Tifa herself doesn't cause him pain. The feelings he has about himself, do.

Chapter 13 and omg I love this freak out! I'm sorry, but this is such a great moment for Cloud and really highlights how low he is at this point. This shows the depth that we miss from him always having his SOLDIER persona taking charge. He's just lived through a tragedy. He's seen the girl he likes in pieces and trying to hold it together. He wants to comfort her. He wants to be himself, but he can't because he's just not good enough. He's feeling like a failure in more ways than one. He lost people too, goddamnit!

Then, in a misguided attempt to distract Tifa from her pain, he stumbles right into a trigger point for his own trauma. Of course he wouldn't know this. It's one of those flashes of Sephiroth ranting about his role and Jenova and shit. (I might have mistakenly said this was a future-flash somewhere, but then I remembered he does this rant right before he kills everyone in Nibelheim).

There's very little blocking to the memory. This is pretty well sealed by real!Cloud compared to his other memories. Even painful ones of Tifa have more context than this. This is something that is so damaging to Cloud's psyche that he can't even fill in the space around it.

So, we get the same kind of staticky noise we heard in chapter 2 when the vision of Sephiroth showed. Cloud gasps pretty loud here tbf. He's unguarded because of the vision and possibly his own distraction about what he's just been through. He wasn't prepared to see Sephiroth here even more than he was back in chapter 2 when he had a full on panic attack.

I mean, his pupils are seriously dilated here. Boi is scared.

Cloud's whimpering and my heart breaks for him. Sephiroth is hitting all his weakest points by bringing up failure and mentioning it's not the first time that's happened. Cloud's at a low point already, so it's not unexpected he backs away from this rather than tries to fight. This isn't SOLDIER!Cloud. This is real!Cloud. The fear has driven real!Cloud to the surface and he wants to run away, just like Sephiroth taunted back in chapter 2.

“Through suffering you will grow strong. Isn't that what you want?”

Clearly not by the look on Cloud's face. The part of him that's real!Cloud within this moment looks like he wants to scream that he's had enough of being in pain. He wants to shake his head and deny that he deserves it. What did he ever do wrong?

I feel like this is more of Cloud's own subconscious taunting him and implying that he deserves everything bad that happens to him, rather than it being the external Sephiroth manipulating Jenova's cells. He's saying Cloud secretly wants to suffer because that's all he should ever get in life. He thinks if he suffers enough pain that he'll be stronger for it, instead of the broken person that he really is. This is the type of thing people who’ve lived through trauma deal with every single day. It’s a never ending barrage of not feeling good enough and worrying that your entire existence is a bother to society. Not even just those close to you, you are a blight on the world. That Cloud’s internal trauma is so deeply rooted in this figure of Sephiroth narrows his focus and makes him project all of his fears onto him. It’s no wonder he freezes.

Now, not strictly a PTSD glitch, but it does provoke a very strong reaction from Cloud, and definitely plays into his fears, so I'm gonna include this one on the proviso it's more fear motivated.

This is the moment he sees Tifa stabbed during the VR cut scene. Sephiroth hijacked it to show them meteor, but then he also killed Tifa and then Barret. We know later on that Barret actually dies, so having seen this, Cloud may well relate back to this deep seated fear that he can't save Tifa and she'll die because of him and it'll cause further attacks. This is also a callback to the time in the reactor in Nibelheim when Tifa was stabbed by Sephiroth and Cloud couldn't save her – this ties to the PTSD flashback he had during the reactor 5 mission where he saw Tifa picking up Sephiroth's sword, so it's got precedence to cause him further trauma once he connects the dots. The fact it provokes such a strong emotional response from him – so much so that his entire face changes – I suspect that real!Cloud came out to motivate him to run to her out of the fear he'd just seen her die in front of him – again. The shock and disbelief on his face, the utter heartbreak. His expression changes from SOLDIER!Cloud to real!Cloud in less than 3 seconds. I checked. As a trigger for his trauma, Cloud's fear of losing Tifa pushes him to a lot of things he wouldn't normally do.

This is more of a memory glitch than PTSD since it's tied to the grunt recognising Cloud and calling him out on the false memories he has of being a SOLDIER. He says they went through training together and Cloud's eyes narrow as though he's trying to reconcile a truth against a lie. The truth that real!Cloud was a grunt and SOLDIER!Cloud is a fake.

There's some distress on his face here that links back to the point during the airbuster battle when he first learned about cell degradation. He knows what he believes is true isn't quite right, but he can't figure out why. SOLDIER!Cloud is unaware of the SOLDIER persona he constructed to protect his real self from further trauma. In OG when Cloud finds out – through Sephiroth’s skewed af bullshit – it causes a complete mental break, so real!Cloud's right to be wary of triggering himself because he's not in a good enough place to deal with what he's done to protect himself. He'd blame himself for being even more weak than he thought.

This is more interesting. Usually whenever anyone questions Cloud about his false identity he claims it, while also rejecting it by saying “ex-SOLDIER”, but in Hojo's case, he seems to hesitate, as though part of him knew it would be questioned and wouldn't hold up. Since Hojo's the one who did this to Cloud, it's likely the truth of what happened couldn't be kept back by the SOLDIER lies.

Pained again, Cloud turns his head away, as though he can shut out the truth. Hojo's image glitches for him and it's reminiscent of the OG moment where Cloud confronts Hojo and asks if he can be a proper experiment instead of a failed one (or something like that. I haven't played OG in like 5 years)

The trauma from what Hojo's done is quickly brushed under the carpet thanks to the arrival of the whispers. This is the second time they appear to prevent Cloud learning too much about his past too early. (Dammit, I forgot about deep ground, I'll circle back to it or I'll lose the order for my screenshots)

I'm not including the long corridor walk prompted by Jenova because that's a loading screen and also it happens not because of anything that Cloud experienced in the location, but because the outside influence of Jenova called to him. His only association with Jenova is the infusion of cells, though how he got them does set off attacks. Actually, here's a good point for the deep ground screen.

Preview of zombie Cloud for Mideel anyone? I mean, what can I say? He's totally checked out and it's scary. No wonder he doesn't wanna remember any of it if this is what he was like at the time. Imagine being so doped up with mako that you're not even you any longer? Having experiments carried out on you and god knows what else. Being stuffed in a chamber jammed full of alien dna and left to see what happens.

This is what broke him. I'd say it's similar to the faceless Squall cut scene from the end of FF8. It's chilling. No wonder he crafted an entire persona to protect himself from remembering this.

So this is the culmination of all the other attacks he's had. We get flashback elements from several that threaten to overwhelm Cloud. He's clutching his head. He's in serious pain and can't do anything. He manages to push through and ask if it's really Sephiroth. He then grabs his left arm when it begins to hurt. This is because Sephiroth is left handed. This is also the same arm that had the major infection of geostigma in AC.

Conclusion

Cloud is a messed by puppy and I ship him with therapy.

PTSD is a tricky thing to accurately show, especially in this case when it's not all totally mental illness and there are outside factors that skew how it's portrayed. Part of Sephiroth is within Cloud, though I do suspect it's more of an aspect of his own feelings of self-loating and doubt than it is actually Sephiroth. That's not to say there isn't also a genuine part of Sephiroth within these visions influencing Cloud to do what he wants, but I think it comes down to the context of the moment.

Cloud's been through a lot of shit and fronts like nothing else. He's managed to get away without any kind of vices or coping mechanisms besides this alternate persona that actually does ok in following the real!Cloud's lead when his deeper urges motivate SOLDIER!Cloud into doing things. I mean there's a point where there's a clear debate between the two about dancing for Andrea. All that back and forth eye movement and then the grimace and “fine, for Tifa” expression wasn't necessary if it was just SOLDIER!Cloud.

It's gonna be hard for Cloud to hear that he's not real in the sense that he thinks he is. It's gonna break him. We've got a preview of his scary vacant Mideel look and it's terrifying. Major props to Tifa for refusing to give up on him.

[buttersbots]

@emme2589 tagged me to do this whole thing?? If anyone wants to know far too much about my writing process, check out under the cut for 54 questions and answers!

1. Favorite place to write.      I can’t really say that I have one. The urge to write strikes me at odd times and in odd places. I’ve noticed I really like to write when I should be doing something else instead, or in places I rather shouldn’t be writing. Maybe my muse likes to walk on the edge? 2. Favorite part of writing.      When the characters write themselves! I’ll sit down with just an idea most of the time and the characters take care of the rest. If I have writer’s block, it’s probably because I’m trying to do something out of character, but I’m too reluctant to redo whatever’s bothering me. 3. Least favorite part of writing.      Random lack of motivation and coming up with titles. 4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?      I always have to be listening to something. Usually music, oftentimes TV (when I’m feeling relaxed and not in any rush, I like picking away at a story sentence by sentence while I’m distracted. Which is all the time).  5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.      I’m really struck by Tolkien's writing style and try to emulate his imagery sometimes. Nothing has ever really captured me the way that does. Other than that, I guess my writing is inspired in part by everything I’ve ever read? 6. Favorite character you ever created.      Fletcher (surprise). My son. My hopes and dreams. 7. Favorite author.      Too hard... but I like @stormkeeper12 a lot. She’s my favorite person on this planet and a naturally gifted writer. 8. Favorite trope to write.      Ex-con adjusts to a normal, domestic life while moving past their traumas and unlearning toxic behaviors with the help of their loved ones, eventually learning to love life and feeling fulfilled in ways they never knew possible. 9. Least favorite trope to write.      Why would I write a trope I don’t like? 10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.      @emme2589 WE’D WRITE ABOUT ROBOTS AND IT’D BE SICK AS HELL 11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.      It depends. If it’s just a ficlet, I’ll just write it out once I’ve had the idea usually over the course of a day or two, then go back and tweak things so it flows and there are no grammar/syntax/punctuation errors. If it’s a longer story, I’ll start it from some point and fill out the rest sporadically. Sometimes I’ll make outlines, sometimes my muse will slap me with a random scene and I’ll write it out and fill in the context of the story later. I rewrite constantly. 12. How do you deal with self-doubts?      I write as a coping mechanism. My writing improves the more I do it, so when I’m down in the dumps and need to get it out, my characters give me all the catharsis I need while simultaneously becoming more alive. 13. How do you deal with writers block?      I don’t. If I have writer’s block, I’m not going to get anything done, so I do something else. 14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?      I don’t write books, but I think the most unneeded research I’ve ever put into something was at the beginning of Charming, and it was about tulips. I wanted Two’s gardening to be realistic since she knows everything there is to know about plant care, so I researched when you’re supposed to plant tulip bulbs, how to best tend to them so that they grow well, and learned a hell of a lot considering I’ve hardly gardened a day in my almost 20 years of existence. I think I only ended up mentioning that she was removing debris from the soil in the background. 15. Where does your inspiration come from?      That’s what I’d like to know! Why can’t I just be inspired by something popular that would get me regular feedback? Why did I have to fall for a speck of a crossover rarepair? Why do Nos and Two make me feel like I’m alive when nothing else will? 16. Where do you take your motivation from?      My own feelings. If an idea doesn’t make me feel things, I won’t write it. As a result, almost everything is comforting and low-energy or something light, quick, and comedic. 17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?     It wouldn’t really be fair to take an average when I’ll write nothing for days, write a couple paragraphs every other week when I should be doing homework, and then sit down and write seven pages straight every blue moon. 18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?      I’ll comb through the entire story and tweak every word I don’t like until one day I’ve improved so much that I start tweaking at one point and end up rewriting the whole thing from scratch. (Example: Alloy [NSFW]). 19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.       When the doorbell rang, Fletcher was already at the front door, waiting to pull it open. Evening had just fallen. The porch light flickered, and it must have made him look even more frantic than he felt ‒ the two women standing on the porch practically jumped back at the sight of him.      [Fletcher Calls a Council] 20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.      With his sensors dulled to ignore the rest of the hospital, Nos-4-a2 felt like the entire universe was limited to his immediate surroundings. In front of him sat the long, low nanotherapy chamber, its contents swirling silver under the artificial light, unchanging over the passing hours. Across from that sat the heavy door, muffling the sound of people moving through the halls. Behind him, the curtains covered the world outside, blocking the progress of the storm. Even his thoughts seemed to come to a grinding halt, numb with waiting, tired of imagining every possible scenario.      The day had completely wasted away before the outside world came crashing in.      A quiet knock was his only warning before a star-struck Morgan opened the door. “You have some visitors!”      [Vampirism Chapter 6] 21. Post the last sentence(s sorry I have no self control) you wrote in one of your WIPs.      We hurt him. It was the only thought in her mind. He might not trust them any more. He might hate them. She didn’t know what to do, but she knew the only way to make anything right would be to explain.      “Fletcher... I’m coming up,” Two murmured. She unbuckled her cape and folded it, placing it on top of the low stone wall surrounding the tree. The white probe then proceeded to find her way through the mesh of bark and leaves until she was wedged in a niche of branches directly across from her son. He’d shifted his head so that he wasn’t looking at her.      “...Please, honey, talk to me,” Two whispered.      Fletcher blinked, his eyeforms narrowing. He waited, not knowing what to say or how to feel. His voice broke when he finally asked, “Did Dad ever kill anyone?”      [Family Secrets] 22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?      I don’t keep drafts. I just work on something until I feel like the plot and language are sound enough for me to put it online. 23. Single or multi POV, and why?      I only ever write a story out of one point of view any more, and it’s almost exclusively third person, usually limited. Sometimes omniscient, but most of the time I’ll just switch limited from one character from another after a break in the story. Third person comes most naturally to me after all my studying because almost all of the reading we did was in third person. 24. Poetry or prose, and why?      Prose, because it’s the best way I know how to evoke a clear emotion. Prose is often more beautiful and meaningful to me than poetry. 25. Linear or non-linear, and why?      HAHAHAHAHA! Non-linear because I don’t have the discipline or desire to write in order. 26. Standalone or series, and why?      I think... both...? Somehow...? I write mostly ficlets and one-shots that don’t need a lot of context, but they have much more meaning if you’re familiar with the continuity that I write for, so...? 27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?      @erick-achan and @emme2589 both have access to the hundreds of WIPs in my Google Drive. If I got to know anyone else who was interested, I’d give them the same thing. I’m so thirsty for feedback and gushing about/expanding on ideas, I can’t wait to be finished! 28. And who do you share them with?      Trusted creatives/anyone who shows the slightest bit of maybe thinking that they might want to look into Nos and Two. 29. Who do you write for?      Myself. 30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.      HOW COULD YOU ASK THIS? I don’t know! Oh GOD I’d have to read through everything and pick just one, it would take me ages, ‘cause what if I forgot about something and found it later? It would haunt me. 31. Hardest character to write.      Not sure. I don’t really want to spend energy on characters that don’t come naturally to me. 32. Easiest character to write.      Two. 33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?      This is my go-to playlist. 34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?      Typed. I type everything. Sometimes I’ll hand write, but that’s only if I’m in a very particular mood or don’t have my computer with me. 35. Tell some backstory details about one of your characters in your story ________.      Well, this was obviously meant to be asked a single question at a time, so if you’d like to know more about the backstory of one of my characters, send me an ask! 36. A spoiler for story _________.      You can send me an ask for this as well, though there’s really nothing for me to spoil. I have a detailed timeline and write out of order. If you’re reading my stories, it’s probably for the interactions/journey. 37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.      This doesn’t count as just a quote, but basically anything about Father Zosima’s philosophy in Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. We had to read it in AP Lit, and it was a drag, but Father Zosima’s teachings helped me get through a seriously dark time when nothing else could. I don’t subscribe to his religion as much as the message. You can kinda see what he’s all about in his shmoop article, but it doesn’t do justice to the depth of Zosima’s life story. It’s really the basis of how I try to live my life every day, and now that my sister’s reading TBK in AP Lit, I’m thinking about going back and looking over the Zosima parts again. 38. Have you shared your outline of your story ________ with someone? If so, what did they think of it?      Send me an ask~ 39. Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.      I draw inspiration from everything, I think. There isn’t anyone who’s solely based on someone I know in real life or who I designed to be like anyone I’ve met. I guess Two’s boss at work is kinda like my managers, but I wrote her before I got my job, so that’s just coincidence. 40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?      Fanfiction, because I have no feelings for anything I’ve created on my own that didn’t stem from someone else’s intellectual property. I guess the closest I’ve come to original fiction is when I write a Fletcher-centric story that only involves other characters of my own design, which I guess are becoming more frequent. 41. How many stories do you work on at one time?      *choking back tears* I have open WIPs that date back to 2013 and I’ve only gotten more prolific since then. (I just counted 98 in my “fanfiction shorts” folder alone, so that’s not including ideas for ficlets or multi-chaptered stories that I have underway. Admittedly, many have been scrapped or set aside, but I never delete anything in case I can reuse some of the material.) 42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.      I don’t design too many characters. Since most of the characters I make are children of other established characters, I just try to balance design elements. Otherwise I do my best to mix in diverse races, genders, and species. 43. Are you an avid reader?      Not nearly as much as I’d like to be. Most of my creative consumption in the past few years has been of video games, and more recently, D&D. 44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.      There are so many good ones that come to mind that make me feel warm from the depths of my soul. The comments that I got on Alloy on deviantART made me feel so validated, I lived off that energy for a month! There are also more general pieces of feedback such as someone (*cough* @emme2589 *cough*) writing a big multi-chaptered fic and l i s t i n g  m e  a s  i n s p i r a t i o n. My mortal soul transcended this plane of existence that day. That really goes for anyone who shows any affectation from my writing, though, no matter the medium. Two of my best friends on the planet I only got to know because of our shared interest in Energy Vampires. 45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.      The only bad feedback is a lack of feedback. (Maybe I only say that because nobody’s given me negative feedback before, but that’s just because not enough people care about Nos and Two, and I’m a Thirsty Bitch.) 46. What would your story _______ look like as a tv show or movie?      LISTEN. If ANYTHING I wrote were to be adapted to moving visual media, it would be 2D cartoon animation, and it would kill me instantly. 47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story?      ...Both? I don’t have a clear answer for this one. 48. Favorite genre to write in.      I’m sorry, but I was raised on FanFiction.net, so I counting “fluff” as a genre is literally a part of my being. My favorite is fluff. 49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?      Depends on the story. 50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.      I can’t talk about it in polite company. 51. Describe the aesthetic of your story _______ in 5 sentences or words.      Send me an axe. Ask. Axske. 52. How did writing change you?      Writing didn’t change me, my writing changes as I do. I started writing for Wall.E as soon as I could. I was 10 at the time, and I pretty much consider that the beginning of my life. Everything before that was just vague, formative details leading up to me seeing Wall.E and discovering my one true love. 53. What does writing mean to you?      It’s my found family, fictional and non-fictional. 54. Any writing advice you want to share?      Just don’t stop. You can’t help but get better if you just don’t stop. Don’t be discouraged, but don’t stagnate: learn what you struggle with and do better. When you find a writing style you really admire, don’t feel like you’ll never live up to it, just try to reach that level in small ways. Before you know it, you’ll have found your own way and people will be looking up to you, which is scary in its own right. Also, read Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. This is the handiest book any writer who’s into the minutia of grammar and syntax could ever need.

[satorisa]

Lift the Veil - Chapter 6

Lift the Veil - Chapter 6: Soul to Squeeze

Rating: T 

Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?

Read On: FanFiction.Net, Archive of Our Own

And here we are, with your slightly late but still somewhat on time update. I rather like this chapter. Perhaps you will too. But no spoilers.

I would also like to note that, at its core, this story is a sort of “coming-to-age” story for Risa (More of coming-to-terms since she is already an “adult,” but you get the gist.) It has been treated as such and will continue to be treated as such until much, much, much, later into the story. And that this story is also a sort of catharsis for me, just as a forewarning since we’ve hit the beginning of the angsty bits and the ensuing melodrama. So without further ado, please enjoy our starring lady’s development (or regression. or lack thereof. i’m going to shut up now.)

Soul to Squeeze

The angels in my dreams have turned into demons of greed…

“Harada-imouto, lay it all on me.”

Turning to Saehara, I saw him with his arms wide open and a creepy expression of satisfaction on his face. Disturbed, I went back to proofreading stories for the evening broadcast, trying to block out my currently obnoxious company.

“Aw, come on! I’m just trying to lighten the mood here!”

“You can do that without being weird, you know.” He pouted. “And there’s no mood that needs lightening.”

“Yes, there is! Chief’s been wound up, mumbling about some frustrating woman that refuses to give him the time of day, and you know how cranky he gets when he doesn’t get his way. And you have been coming in with darker circles.” I shot him a glare for even mentioning the growing bags under my eye, but he just shrugged. “Well, sorry for stating the facts here.”

“Saehara-san, I suggest you shut up and dig your nose elsewhere.”

“Look, the juju in this office is seriously whack. It all went downhill when you started working here, but now it’s unbearable!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Juju?”

“Yeah! Chief’s been on edge ever since, like he’s walking on eggshells or about ready to explode or something. The force stationed here noticed it too.”

“And this is my problem because…?”

“Well, I don’t know if a woman such as yourself would understand, but it was wonderful back in the day when Chief would walk in with that mien of confidence. Made us men feel ready to start the day with someone like that around. Then, after that night when we met up with you at the café, he’s been out of it. More so than usual if you know what I mean.”

“It sounds like your boss has a problem with a female, specifically this one.”

Saehara’s mouth dropped. Honestly, someone who prided himself on his investigative skills would’ve realized this by now especially with how obviously he described it only moment ago. “Are you telling me that—”

“…do you think it’s wise to continue digging into that matter?”

Hiwatari stood by the sofa holding a steaming mug of coffee. Our eyes met, and I saw the regret and hurt pooling in them, appearing for just a brief second before his customary stolid expression returned, aimed and ready to fire at Saehara.

“Well, I can’t help but be curious! And it’s me! It’s not like I’m going to blab to anyone about it. Well, maybe Akane but—”

All it took was one look to shut Saehara up. The poor guy gulped, slightly nodding at the frightening Hiwatari. The Commissioner retreated to his office and, while Saehara had somehow recovered from the death stare, yakking on about Hiwatari’s recently increased sensitivity, I couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened. I knew we both got carried away because of our bottled-up emotions, and that encounter so happened to release everything we wanted to compress (even when it clearly needed an outlet). Several years ago, I would’ve relished in the image of a broken and defeated Hiwatari slumped in his chair but now, after it actually happened, it honestly left me too unsettled to just leave it be. And since I couldn’t use my go-to strategy of pretending like it didn’t happen, there was only one thing left that I could do:

Apologize to Hiwatari.

“Harada-imouto, are you okay? You look like you just smelled some lingering roadkill.”

Once Saehara left, gloating about having “a homemade dinner filled with love from his honey-bunny,” I placed my laptop on the coffee table in front of me and made my way to Hiwatari’s office. I knocked on his door and, not hearing an allowance to enter, I decided to just let myself in.

The blinds were up, bathing the desk covered in papers the unsaturated orange of the sunset. It smelled like aging documents, coffee, and faintly of smoke: probably remnants of its precious owners. Hiwatari laid on the couch with one arm lazily hanging off the edge and the other positioned to cover his eyes from the light. I had the urge to check if he fell asleep with his glasses on, but I saw their glare on the low table.

Some habits never die.

“…what’s so important that you needed to barge in without my consent?”

“It’s me.”

He didn’t move. His body tensed slightly, and his casually open hands balled into sturdy fists. Frustration? Anger? I was slightly scared at his sudden change in body language and silently braced myself for the worst.

“Harada-san, I’m sorry about dinner. You don’t have to accept my apology, but let me at least say my piece before you leave. I simply pushed myself upon you without thinking about your feelings, and I should’ve been more mindful of that instead of finding a segue to berate you on your perfectly acceptable behavior.”

“Just because it was acceptable doesn’t mean that it was good. It was my fault for being belligerent and distant instead of addressing it immediately.”

“Harada-san, you had every right. If someone I cared about did what I had done all those years ago, I would’ve been equally, if not more, upset. This mess is mine and mine alone. You needn’t apologize for anything.”

I opened my mouth, trying to protest his words. For six years, I wanted to hear him accept his faults and apologize, as if seeing him this ruined would’ve given me the boost I needed to finally let everything go. But looking at his body somehow helplessly lying on the couch, and his eyes covered to avoid seeing me, I finally witnessed the toil that it put him through, too. I found solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only one affected by it, but that led to questions and assumptions I didn’t want to know the answer to. Or maybe I did know the answer to them, but I just couldn’t bear to face those truths.

“Harada-san, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have some time to myself. Thank you for listening, and have a lovely evening.”

“You, too,” I croaked, gingerly closing the door behind me.

Heading to my usual work space in the police station, I finished up my work as quickly as possible, managing to leave the station before Hiwatari clocked out for the day. If I went to the news station, I’d probably stay in my cubicle until hunger struck, allowing me to avoid much needed introspection with work.

Maybe I could drop by Mizuame de Noisette for some alone time if only to sort my thoughts out.

When I was younger, I heard something on TV (or the radio) about the health benefits of tea. It came around the time my obsession with chi and the flow of the universe started, and I somehow became obsessed with the brewed beverage.

So much so that I couldn’t stand coffee. My parents always made a pot for breakfast; Dad would drink it black, Mom had steamed milk with it, and Riku poured as much flavored creamer as the cup allowed whenever she found herself still tired in the morning. Even though I came from a family that preferred coffee over tea, they never bothered me about it. They’d drink tea whenever I brewed it, returning to their Japanese roots for those brief moments before allowing Westernization back into their lives once more.

(Funny how I talk about Japanese tradition when I gave it up for my weird obsession of divination using the Western tarot and the advent of the K-pop takeover.)

The first time I had coffee of my own accord and enjoyed it was in my third year of middle school at the Niwa household. Towa and Argentine tagged along with Mrs. Emiko to buy some groceries while Grandpa Daiki and Mr. Kousuke were on a trip to manage and redistribute the remaining Hikari works to areas able to care for the magical pieces. Riku and Daisuke were still at school, Daisuke dutifully manning the art club he was ushered into and Riku busy with lacrosse practice. Hiwatari, having already withdrawn from school to fully dedicate himself to his new post as the Commissioner of the police force, always left work early to accompany this member of the going-home club to what became his home after the incident. My parents still worked late back then and Hiwatari, being his courteous self, felt a need to keep me company until Riku came back with Daisuke so I would walk back home with my sister.

I was struggling through math, trying to manage without asking Hiwatari because I was stubborn—still am—when I placed my head on the table in utter defeat. Hiwatari, usually busy on either his laptop or with his paperwork, suddenly left his spot and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a couple of minutes later holding two steaming mugs.

“Harada-san,” he called, lightly tapping my shoulder. When I got up, he placed the mug filled with what smelled and looked like coffee in front of me. I couldn’t protest since I didn’t ask for it or make it, so I mumbled a “thanks” before hesitantly taking a sip.

I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much since I’ve tried Riku’s coffee many time in the past and disliked, oddly enough, its saccharinity that masked any hint of coffee besides its bitter aftertaste characteristic of all brewed drinks. Hiwatari’s coffee, however, was slightly creamy and slightly sweet while managing to still taste like coffee: just enough to make it palatable yet not too much to overwhelm its flavor.

“I’m sorry. I would’ve made you tea, but there was only coffee in the pantry. I hope it suit your tastes.”

“It’s actually really good. Thank you.” I cradled the warm drink in my hands, completely taken by it. “How did you make it?”

“I just brewed the coffee, Harada-san. If you must thank someone, drop by somewhere in South America or Africa to deliver your gratitude.”

I raised my eyebrow in confusion at his statement and the smirk forming on his face. After a beat had passed, I frowned, shaking my head at Hiwatari’s terribly timing.

He chuckled. “My apologies, Harada-kun.” I stifled the urge to correct him for the umpteenth time for using an honorific he knew I wasn’t fond of. He just kept that stupid grin on his face before continuing. “I used a French press to brew the coffee and added condensed milk and chocolate syrup.”

“I’m offended that you thought I needed chocolate syrup and condensed milk in my coffee.”

“Harada-kun, that’s how my host mother in America prepared my coffee.”

He never brought up his time in America, dismissing it as the time he spent staying up and reading books on art history and criminal justice. He never mentioned anything else regarding America, and I assumed that Krad and his young age made it difficult for him to bond with the other students.

“Really?”

I leaned towards Hiwatari, hoping that he would continue the conversation. And when he did, the cup of coffee I fawned over mere moments ago was long forgotten until Riku walked in and complained about how I wasted another cup of her favorite beverage.

The second time I had coffee served to me like that, I was over at a guy’s apartment, trying to get to know him before plunging back into the world of relationships and romances.

I deleted his number the moment I left.

After my fourth cocktail of the tropical-flavored variety, a waiter approached me, asking if I was okay.

“Of course! I’m peachy!”

“No one says ‘peachy’ when they’re okay, princess.”

I paused, nearly losing my grip on my drink. It took me a moment, but I finally focused on the waiter’s features. He had an attractive smirk and slanted eyes that screamed mischief paired with perfectly sculpted cheekbones and long, dark hair that tapered out in the back—was I imagining this?

Dark?

“Sorry to leave you like that. I would’ve stayed longer, but it didn’t work out.”

I knew that hidden behind his mask of nonchalance was a part of Dark that lived up to his namesake. Despite his usual animation, he was still a Hikari artwork, forever bound to the rules imposed upon him by his creator. His short-lived freedom always started with acclimating to his new host and teasing the poor kid about their love life and always ended either in full agreement or miserable compromise before plunging Dark back into solitude until the next of kin became of age.

“It had to be done.” I shrugged. “No hard feelings.”

But there were once many, many hard feelings that caused trouble for everyone close to me. Now they were a blip in the past that served as a forewarning for what had followed.

“I love you, Princess.”

“I know you loved me along with the many, many other girls that came before me. And you left every single one of them just like you left me. You promised me something you knew you couldn’t keep.”

What happened back then had to be done. The conflict that stemmed from the artworks residing in Daisuke and Hiwatari got so out of hand that it started to wreak havoc on the poor boys and, eventually, their respective “Sacred Maidens.” We had to destroy that artwork and free their blood from that awful curse to save ourselves.

Besides, I couldn’t hog Daisuke from Riku.

“But I’m here now. I’ve kept that promise.”

“Honestly, that sweet-talking mouth of yours sickens me.”

Even though he knew of his inevitable fate, he fed my gullible fourteen-year-old self loving words about forever and always. And having all those hopes and dreams crushed in the span of that event killed me. Maybe Dark used me to escape his reality, honing in on a girl that showered him with unadulterated affection for the person he was. And yet, that selfishness of his meant he needed to use everything in his bag of tricks.

Even if that meant lying to himself and me.

“What’d I do wrong? Tell me, and I’ll try everything in my power to fix it.”

“You lied. Just like him.”

He laughed, and I could hear the disdain and haughtiness with each note. “Comparing me to that glacier? Why do that?”

“Because I loved the two of you, but you both broke my heart because of this damn curse!”

I felt my frustration rush through me, and I slammed my hands on the table. Only then did I finally wake up, languidly trying to discern my dream from reality. Still coming to, my hand tipped over my cocktail glass, and I watched as it spilled and shattered on the floor below.

“Risa!”

Looking up, wondering who could possibly be calling my name, I spotted Daisuke weaving through the patrons and workers who had their attention directed towards me. He came to my table, briefly apologizing to the waiter cleaning up my mess before dragging me out of the café.

We ended up at a convenience store, and I followed Daisuke as he browsed the aisles, grabbing a canned miso soup and energy drink. On my way to the cashier, I grabbed a strawberry-flavored Caplico stick and strawberry milk and crept up behind him, gingerly putting them down on the counter. He didn’t say anything, instead pushing my snacks closer to his purchases and paying for everything without a fuss before sitting at a table outside. Daisuke urged me to drink what he bought for me, but my stubbornness won out as I opened my snacks and dug in.

“Are you okay?” he cautiously asked

“Does it look like I’m okay?”

He shook his head, unsure of what to do. We sat there in silence for a while until Daisuke opened his mouth again.

“Riku’s…worried about you. I’m worried about you.” He paused. “Um…we’re worried about you.”

Luckily, I didn’t catch his implication, too intoxicated and one-track minded to pay attention to anything. “You two don’t need to worry about me,” I said. “Let me roll into the gutter of life without your well-meant bumpers.”

“Risa…”

“Look, I made a mistake coming back here, okay? This is my punishment.”

Daisuke looked distraught: his friend was suffering, and there was nothing he could do to help. Riku really did choose a good man…

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

His apology hung in the air, awkward and heavy. I didn’t even know what he was sorry for. Scooting my chair closer to his, I patted his back to console him. Funny, since he originally meant to make me feel better and yet it ended up being the other way around. When he finally calmed down, he stood up, picking up my trash and telling me he needed to make a couple of phone calls.

Holding the warm cup of miso soup in my hands, I watched him go back inside the convenience store. During his first call, he looked too distressed. Daisuke had to take a couple of breaths, and he walked around a little bit before hanging up and dialing another number. He seemed a lot calmer this time around, but he somehow hung up looking even more frazzled.

“Riku wants you back home ASAP,” he explained while taking his seat. “But I’m assuming that home’s the last place you want to be right now.” I nodded. “Any ideas on where you want to go?”

“A hotel.”

“Somewhere with someone you know, please. Riku would kill me if I left you alone like this.”

“You can—”

“Risa.” I’m your sister’s boyfriend. And while there’s nothing particularly wrong with you staying at my house, this could potentially lead to some trouble. And my house? Really?

I laughed despite Daisuke’s grave tone, but I knew he was right. While Riku was fine with me and Daisuke being friends, I knew she didn’t like it whenever Daisuke was overly nice with me. And his house was a riot: having me there in this state could either cheer me up or make me feel even worse.

Saehara popped into my mind, but I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, he has a girlfriend that he may or may not live with (we had yet to breach that topic), and I didn’t want her to become wary of me even before I’ve formally met her. Hiwatari also flashed through my mind, but I was not that desperate. Yet.

Taking out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Ritsuko’s number. I brought my phone to my ear, hearing the dial tone echo. She was my last hope and, if she didn’t pick up, I would have to—

“Hey, Risa. What’s up?”

“Could I crash at your place tonight?”

“Sure, is there something wrong?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, it’s a Friday night, so we have the time! I’ll text you to address, okay? Please get here safely, and I’ll see you soon!”

“I didn’t expect to see Daisuke as your personal entourage tonight! Is there something going on? Do I need to report this to Riku?”

“Ritsuko!”

She laughed, letting the two of us in, before disappearing into the kitchen to grab some refreshments and snacks. I sat next to a beet-red Daisuke on the sofa. Poor guy; even as an adult he was still too easy to tease.

“So, in all seriousness, what’s going on?” Ritsuko asked, placing two mugs of water and a bowl of sweets on the coffee table. “I mean, it must be a good story if Risa smells like a bar!”

I groaned, and she winked at Daisuke before laughing. Honestly, she was having too much fun with this situation.

“Well, as you can smell, I got drunk like a dumb college student, and Riku sent Daisuke to find me. And, since I didn’t want to go back home, I’m here.”

“Aren’t you a little too old for a teenage rebellion?” She laughed again. “Sorry, this is just too amusing.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I grumbled. “Anyhow, could I freshen up a bit?”

“Oh yeah! I’ve laid out some clean clothes and towels on your bed. And a clean tooth brush. Other than that, what’s mine is yours.”

I thanked her before heading into her room, changing my clothes before cleaning up after my long day. Honestly, I wanted to pass out and forget today even happened

When I left her room, I saw her sitting on the couch, toying with her phone. She finally noticed me when I sat beside her, and she locked her phone and set it on the table.

“Daisuke left after you went in,” she explained. “So, what’s really wrong?” Her joking tone from earlier was gone, replaced with one of concern.

“I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Well, if you refused to visit for six years, you really shouldn’t have returned. If you’ve been running away for that long, you didn’t have to come back and act like you’re so strong now. And there’s nothing wrong with being a coward; not everyone was designed to slay dragons.”

“What’s up with the fairytale imagery?”

“It’s the only thing that came to mind! Don’t judge me!”

I smiled. “I’m not.”

“Well, for whatever reason, you came back, so you have to deal with it instead of drowning in alcohol. It’s not good for your skin.”

“You choose to dissuade me from drinking alcohol by talking about how bad it is for my skin? Just my skin? Really?”

“Okay, I don’t need your sass right now, okay? Too much alcohol is just bad, okay?”

“Who are you, my mother?”

“Would you rather be having this earful from me, Riku, or your mother?”

“Touché.”

We laughed. I really did miss Ritsuko’s company.

“Well, with a dragon like Hiwatari, I don’t blame you for running.”

My mind paused as those words hung heavy in the air. I hated when someone verbalized the truth, as if speaking about it granted my problem a tangible form that I could no longer just contain inside my mind.

“When he first transferred in, he was a statue that most of us girls admired from a distance. And you absolutely hated him. Then, somehow, someway, after Daisuke finally started officially dating Riku, the two of you became the bestest of friends which everyone thought was a guise for secretly dating.” I groaned at Ritsuko for reminding me about that, but she only replied with a coy smile before continuing. “And then you two just stopped talking near the end of our third-year.”

“Ritsuko…”

“And you were devastated. Maybe even more so than when Dark disappeared. I mean, it’s always hard to deal with losing someone you care about but…”

My racing heartbeat drummed in my ears, amplified by the ill-timed silence following her trailing words. Maybe she just paused there because she didn’t have anything left to say, and here I was freaking out over nothing. But what if she stopped because she needed some time to organize her thoughts before releasing a slew of words that could potentially shatter the precarious state of my sanity? Glancing over at me, her eyes widened, possibly at whatever worrying expression my face contorted to unconsciously before turning away looking guilty.  

“Sorry for bringing up a sore subject. I just…I don’t want to see you bogged down by whatever happened. It’s also late, so you should probably get some sleep, too.”

She handed me a blanket, saying that I could either sleep with her or alone on the sofa. I took the sofa mostly because I wanted some time to mull over Ritsuko’s words. Somehow, I had to stop running away from this, to compartmentalize and act like an adult.

Honestly, I had done a terrible job of doing that; both of us did. But I didn’t want to see what would happen if I put it behind me. I didn’t trust him or myself to keep it casual. After everything that happened, it really didn’t seem like an option. It was an all or nothing deal, and I don’t want to plunge back into that mess ever again.

I was too scared to see where it would lead us.