#Everyone here has at least something to do to contribute and get paid for

[thankskenpenders]

Part1: Thank you for the reply! Sorry if I keep pushing the subject, but what I don't understand is Penders' disdain/hate for Chronicles. For someone who always boasts about his contributions to the Sonic IP, one would have thought he would have been elated to be the inspiration and starting point for what would become a plot and setting of the IP's core media, games. Plus, you said it yourself, to everyone's knowledge (Even Penders, maybe?) they were seen as fair game at the time of production.

Part2: I would understand if he was asking for acknowledgement/compensation, but his ownership claims seems to be made out of malicious spite, rather than a proper sense of injustice. Like if DC would have dressed Superman in a red & white costume for a few issues after the Fawcett case (I know it's not exactly the same legal case). But why do you think he acts like that? I would love to read your thoughts as you are one of the few capable of reaching unbiased conclusions when it comes to him.

So the thing with the Sonic Chronicles case is that by that point Ken had discovered Archie had lost his contract, cooked up the story that it never existed, and started filing for copyrights for his work. As such, he argued that Sonic Chronicles taking inspiration from his work was an instance of copyright infringement. In his eyes, Shade literally is Julie-Su, and the Nocturnus Clan literally is the Dark Legion, just with the names changed, and if he never signed a contract then that stuff wasn't fair game for other Sega projects to touch. To him, it wasn't uncredited inspiration, it was theft.

The case was dismissed in court because the Archie v. Penders case to determine who actually owned the copyrights for his work was still ongoing, and then by the time that was settled the statute of limitations for the Chronicles case had passed. (In basic terms: it had been too long since Sonic Chronicles came out to sue over it.) So it ended in a stalemate, with both sides still arguing ownership, and Ken would only be able to revive the lawsuit if Sega did something new with Sonic Chronicles or those characters - a sequel, a port of the game, Shade appearing in new stories, etc.

Since then, it's basically turned into a game of chicken with the copyrights. Ken believes Sega has just washed their hands of Chronicles because they don't want to deal with the legal trouble, which is honestly probably true. Meanwhile, Ken has been testing how far he can push his claims of ownership over Shade before Sega does anything, such as when he announced that Shade NFT that declared she was literally the same character as Julie-Su. (Or at least it would have if he'd ever released it.) If Sega doesn't do anything about it, then they're at risk of forfeiting the copyrights, which Ken will take as a sign that they've fully abandoned Sonic Chronicles as their property and therefore he can do whatever he wants with its elements.

So, basically, yeah, he's still just bitter and spiteful over the plot of Sonic Chronicles being based loosely on his Knuckles comics without his involvement. And to a certain extent I'd get that. Comic artists and writers are paid in table scraps and get no benefits, then they see the companies who own their work turn it into billion dollar movies and video games and mountains of merch, and they don't see a penny of those profits. They don't even tend to earn royalties off of their comics' sales. It's unfair. But while I think he deserved some form of credit and maybe some form of compensation, there's a difference between adaptation and inspiration, and Ken's just being a copyright troll here.

There's immense irony in Ken believing that Bioware's homage to Julie-Su should be seen as the same character as Julie-Su in the eyes of the law, while he's out here publishing a comic featuring K'Nox, The Legally Distinct Character Who Is Totally Not Knuckles. Also, like, one of his pet characters has always been a blatant homage to James Bond. He was out there basing Archie Sonic stories on Star Trek episodes and Superman comics and shit. My favorite Sonic story of his literally just ripped off the plot of "For the Man Who Has Everything." I don't see him out here cutting Alan Moore a check. He's nothing if not a hypocrite.

[pruneunfair]

My feelings on villains are destined to die and how it writes a toxic family, what lead them to where they were and if they chose to end the cycle or repeat it.

For one I can see why it's so popular, the plot is unique for its time since it was one of the first villainess centered manhwas and there characters are 3 dimensional. VADTD has its fair share of flaws as all media do but my problem is with the fanbase who seem to get the idea that liking something or someone means you must support it at all times otherwise it means you support the opposing party.

This will be mostly centered around our FL that you've probably seen somewhere before even if you haven't read VADTD, Penelope Eckart

If you think I'm here to dog on Penelope don't worry, I think she's a beautifully made protagonist that is actually morally gray and not a bitch with morally gray excuse. So despite how much the fandom says she's a perfect girlboss, Penelope isn't a good person. She sees everyone as just a video game character in the beginning so she doesn't care if characters like Emily would get hurt or how Eckles felt, that isn't too unreasonable since she did get transmigrated into a video game but there are lines that she crosses, she knows the horrors of abuse very well from her past life which is why she's so attached to the og Penelope, but it's clear she is willing to repeat the cycle for her own needs.

Introducing one of the most controversial characters: Eckles (or Eclis/eclipse)

Eckles as a character was designed to make you feel uncomfortable. He's a slave bought by Penelope at an auction and trust me, she isn't very nice about it. He's always wearing a collar with a spell that causes him to be paralyzed and unable to speak if Penelope touches the Ruby ring given to her by the auctioneers, (Because there's no way that could be abused) and everything about him just seems to miserable, his life depends on Penelopes love and care for him and he's willing to keep the collar just so he can be useful..everything about him seems to be the embodiment of Stockholm syndrome and a lack of identity. The saddest part? He knows why Penelope wants him around and he despises her for it (reasonable) yet he still "loves" her

Word for Word, this is what Penelope said to him when she bought him + a few more she says that are concerning to say the least

"Look at me Eckles. This is the face of your master who paid 100 million gold for you. I didn't pay such an extravagant price for you because I'm rotting in money, not even an insane noble would the equivalent of castle for a slave from a fallen kingdom, what is left for you even if you were able to resist and escape from here? You don't even have a country to run to. I despise those who don't know their place. I saw potential in you and that is why I invested in you, that is all our relationship is. Prove your worth so that I have no regrets about the price I paid for you, otherwise I'll send you back here with no hesitation. Do you understand?"

"A dog should act like a dog Eckles! What use is a son of a bitch who bites his master!?"

"You dare bite your master?"

That is NOT good person behavior, Penelope is desperate to live yes but that was one of her lowest moments. Buying a man, contributes to the buisness of slavery with 100 million gold, straight up threatening him to sell him back to slavery if he doesn't obey, and manipulates him for means of an end. But that's the point. Penelope is a gray character so naturally on top of all the good she can do, she still is capable of repeating the cycle of abuse on another person.

They have a sort of co-dependent relationship later on, Penelope views him as a beast and her way of keeping him on her side is buying him a bunch of gifts and then leaving him for long periods of time, forgetting that all he asked of her was to visit him. Of course Penelope is in no way obligated to do so just because Eckles loves her, and by love, I mean obsession to the point where Eckles starts to commit extreme acts all in the name of his obsession for her. He's no longer a person, he's just Penelopes worshipper who also "betrays" her.

Thats another thing people hate him for, for betraying the woman who bought him and treated him more like an animal than a person. And yeah, bringing Leila back to the mansion was a dick move not to mention betraying his own people but when it came to betraying Penelope.. you can't really owe your slave master loyalty, I saw this more as a consequence of Penelopes actions rather than a "poor pene" moment because im just gonna say it: Penelope had no right to be that upset when the slave she treated as an animal wound up betraying her. There was no right in that situation just two wrongs and yet there's a ton of people who solely blame Eckles for not being grateful that Penelope didn't do anything extremely egregious when she owned him (wtf!?)

Yes Eckles isnt a great person either, as i said he put all of his country to death when he snitched on them so he could stay by Penelopes side but just because Penelope is the protagonist with a tragic backstory, that doesnt mean shes an innocent lamb and while fans will glorify the toxic relationship, the way the narrative portrays it is too uncomfortable to be a romantic path, it's meant an abusive past where Penelope can choose to stay at her worst and that would honestly be depressing if she did get with him, itd be a twisted master-slave relationship where Penelope can do whatever she wants to Eckles and he can't say nor will he want to, and I think she knew to some degree that she wouldnt want to be that monster and what she was doing was inhumane which is probably she stays far away from him since she's beginning to see these people as humans and not code. It's both a mix of desperation for her own life and a desire to not repeat an abusive cycle just with extra steps.

A slave and their master isn't a forbidden romance, it's just Stockholm syndrome covered in glitter.

Now on to the other characters, the love interests/ brothers.

Theres a lot of love for Callisto and I can see why, he's not a cardboard cutout and has a personality that didn't revolve around Penelopes goals. I'll admit I didn't like him at first but he's grown on me

But I have a feeling there's another reason fans adore him outside of his character and goals. He's the only love interest that isn't an abusive one. Unlike Eckles, Callisto is closer in equality to Penelope and he's you know, not her fricking step brother. After all when the other options are lava and toxic chemicals, you would much rather stick your hand in a mysterious substance that could benefit you even if it could also kill you. That's what Callisto was when we met him, he's the one who killed OG Penelope the most in hard mode and when he first speaks to Penelope, he's putting a sword at her throat, even though he's killed Penelope in so many timelines, the timelines where he doesn't are the happiest... which I honestly don't know how to feel about that.

then there's Derrick, and uh yeah, I don't blame the fandom this time, he does suck and he has a sister complex.. Fantastic

Still though for such a hateable character it's done so well. He's not always so in your face about it, Derrick is still a 3d character with a "reason" that explains his stepbrother-stepsister love he has for Penelope, he's afraid of losing her like he lost Ivonne (that just opens so many weird doors though with how they imply it) and even if you take that away he's still a perfect example of abuser. No matter what Penelope did he's consistently blaming her for the negatives of their family, he loves her but he also controls her and makes her feel like shit. It's like another form of Eckles and Penelope which is kind of depressing since it's more portrayal of repeating cycles of abuse. *SPOILERS* He also gets to live normally after that and apparently becomes a loving uncle to Penelope and Callistos daughter which I interpret as the harsh reality that abusers who are family aren't likely to go away especially if they are older and hold more power over you, they can stop it all they want but that wound never got treated.

Reynold is another one I have a weird relationship with, he's not as terrible as Derrick but the shit he put Penelope through is yet another example of generational abuse that he started

Reynold represents the regret an abuser can feel after the harm is already done. The entire family has issues in general and communication is one that's seriously lacking but Reynold indirectly started it and justified it when he found the og Penelope praying that Ivonne would never return and from both sides, you can understand why. Penelope doesn't want to go back on the streets and Reynold is still grieving over his sister and the replacement was just wishing for that little sister to dissappear or die, but no matter the reason, abuse is still abuse. But he was willing to change after hearing her true story, but he continues to reprimand her for the past, not letting go so easily which made him a easy target for Leila to brainwash, as I've said, the damage is already done and while the two can remain civil, I wouldn't be surprised if Penelope never feels comfortable around him again.

EDIT: I thought about it and maybe "never feeling comfortable around him again" might be a little too far, OG Penelope probably wouldn't but I think the current Penelope would be more likely to move on.

And now for the figurative and literal embodiment of the lost/ghost child: Ivonne who represents how we handle grief and lost child syndrome.

Almost nothing is known about Ivonne for a long time, the family has fond memories of her but we never get to see what it was like beyond a single memory of the siblings sneaking out to the festival the night Ivonne went missing. In grief we tend to over fantasize the person we lost, usually as a perfect being who did no wrong. Thats what Leilas control represents, Ivonne is dead, her skin is cold to the touch like a corpse as described by Penelope , the goddess Leila who took over her body represents flaws the deceased may have had or a toxic coping mechanism in general and causes everyone under her control to only think about the best of her.

For Ivonne as a character, she is lost child personified, she's literally lost so it's already right there, a lost/ghost child is the type of child that stands by the toxicity of the family, they blend in and no one really bothers about them, though this is more of a reach then the other two, there arent a whole lot of chapters that mention Ivonne beyond comparing her to Penelope and the chapters where she actually does appear, shes separated from everyone else. Even her own father who spent years searching for her, he still gave up and what pushed Ivonne to become a literal ghost child is when she sees the Duke take Penelope off the streets to be his replacement daughter when his real child was staring right at him. Ivonne ends up in a mirror forever, where all she can do is watch the family from afar.

final main character is Winter, and he was the trickiest to place.

I forgot about Winter half the time since he kind just shows up at random, his introduction is literally happening to be there at the right moment when Penelope is running away from Callisto. So I wasn't very interested in him until the battle against the Leila cult, but even though I wasn't interested in him, I still preferred at the time if he was the love interest instead since he was the least violent of all the guys, he actually wanted Penelope to be happy, and very protective of nor just her but the sorcerer children so it was just green flags all around with the exception of the age gap. (I don't know how to feel about since Winter is 26 and Penelope is physically 18 but mentally she's in her 20s)

My interpretation of him is that he could be the friend/therapist that's outside the family, the one to give a little break from the disaster of a homelife. But a therapist or friend can really only do so much and in rare cases they could start suspecting you as a liar since they are also people who are dealing with their own set of problems. Kind of like how Winter starts to lose Penelopes trust when suspects her to be from the Leila cult.

Conclusion: VADTD is popular for a good reason and it has tons of great commentary on toxic households and that no character is truly innocent, but it doesn't get enough credit in that department since tons of people misinterpreted it as yet another basic reincarnation girl boss story where everything is black and white.

This is part 2 to a series I want to call "my feelings on", I'll read through a manhwa/anything one webtoon and I'll either critique it or come up with my own interpretations of it.

[sorry-apsalar]

You'll Like It

Summary: Fry has a special gift for Bender.

~

Hiding from Santa meant the Christmas party had to be quiet which was lame and contributed to the dismal feeling Fry now associated with the holiday. He wasn’t going to let it drag him down too hard though. With his plans for tonight and after how much time effort and energy he’d put into getting everyone at Planet Express good gifts this year, he was determined to make sure he had as good a time as possible.

Halfway through the night, just after midnight hit, making it officially Christmas day, he went around and handed everyone their gifts one by one. They’d even been wrapped nicely… sort of anyway. He’d done his best to to make them look as pretty as possible. An effect that was ruined by the fact that the recipient had to rip it open to get to the gift so what was the point again? Why put in so much effort if it was meant to be destroyed? Whatever though, this year was special so he’d put in a little more effort.

With Bender’s gift being the reason for that specialness, Fry saved him for last. He’d sat on the couch, watching as Fry went around to everyone, tapping his fingers on the arm rest with barely disguised eagerness and maybe a bit of impatience too.

“I notice the bag is empty,” Bender said as Fry stepped up to him. Unsurprisingly he’d kept an eye on the bag of gifts Fry had brought. He’d been eyeing it ever since Fry had finished putting everything inside, necessitating Fry keep a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t try to open or steal any of it. Which was half the reason Fry hadn’t put Bender’s gift in the bag, the other half being it was small enough to fit in his jean pocket.

He pulled it out now to hand to Bender. “That’s ‘cause yours is right here.”

Bender frowned slightly as he took it. “It’s tiny. Everyone else got a big gift.”

“Just open it. You’ll like it… I think.” More like he hoped. He’d been thinking about this for a long time and Christmas had seemed the perfect time it do it. Now he wasn’t so sure with all of the Planet Express crew not necessarily watching but in the room and thus would be aware of it and Bender’s answer as it happened.

It was too late to change his mind about it now though as Bender began ripping the pretty wrapping paper off. “Oh,” he said as he tossed it to the side, revealing the ring box. He eagerly flipped it open, his eyes widening at the sight of the ring inside. “This real diamond?” He looked back up at Fry as he pointed at it with his other hand.

“Of course.” Or at least Fry had been told it was and he’d certainly paid a lot for it – he’d had to save up more than a year since he’d had the thought to do this last year but hadn’t been able to afford a good ring yet – so it had better be real. He lowered himself to one knee as he took a deep breath, about to pop the question. Before he could get out a single syllable though…

“Then, yes.” Bender pulled it out and slid it onto his finger. Luckily, Fry’s measuring of it seemed to have been accurate. “Hey Leela, come look at what Fry got me.”

“You’re not even gonna let me ask the question?”

“Oh uh, sure go ahead and say the words.”

Fry had had a small speech planned about how much Bender meant to him but Leela was already on her way over and he’d forgotten it. So… “I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Now come on, get off the floor and sit with me.”

Well that hadn’t been as grand as he’d hoped and planed it to be but he had gotten an enthusiast ‘yes’. So he straightened and sat next to Bender on the couch. He put an arm around Fry’s shoulders and pulled him close, not something he normally did a whole lot of when everyone everyone else was present. He liked to seem tough in front of the others and PDA wasn’t tough.

“Did I hear that right?” Leela said as she reached them. “You guys are getting married.”

“Yep!” Bender lifted his hand to show her the ring, stretching it towards her.

She leaned in to examine it. “Ooh. I’m surprised Fry, I wouldn’t have thought you could afford a ring like this.”

“I saved up for it.” And he’d bought it secondhand at a pawn shop, making it less expensive. That shouldn’t matter though, it was still pretty.

“He’s the best fiance.” Bender said it with almost as much conviction as when he called himself the best, making it quite the compliment indeed.

Even if this wasn’t now he’d planned it to go, Fry would happily take it. Not that getting married would change much when they already lived together but it should be fun anyway and would be an excuse to throw a party. And then Fry could call Bender his husband instead of his boyfriend, that was going to be fun.

[incarnateirony]

You think misha will get writing credits anytime soon on any episode or any “producer” credit on the Winchesters?

If they do, it'll be producer, and if they do, it'll only come once his first episode is revealed. There's several chances here. One, hidden credits are something you can sign on for, if you want paid, but not shown, usually for spoiler reasons. Alternatively, though everyone goes YOU GOTTA BE CREDITED, sometimes people just. Share ideas with their friends? And everyone around them knows they're involved? But they don't want to dice up their friends' budget by demanding being paid for sitting down with beers and talking about story ideas?

I answered your first ask privately for reasons, but this one I'll do public. You know from that prior ask that Misha has been involved since roughly the start (or at least, as far as this fandom would perceive as the start; Robbie was writing his Cas spinoff already, Jensen was getting licensing and deals squared and wracking his brain for ideas, and, well-- you know what I sent you.)

Like, whether people believe it or not it's a fact that's non-negotiable. He's been involved since like. Late March/Early April 2021 on a development level and since Dec 2020 he was at least aware Jensen was pursuing something roughly in this vein.

So anyway, there was Several Ideas Jenneel Had, and they looked at One and said, What About This, This Is About Your Parents. But uh. Let's just say to the public at least, Mish had some hand in that idea being given to them to begin with. For reasons. Just. If you wanna imagine I'm making it up pretend it's theoretical but like. Anyway, they workshopped it for a few months, took it to WB, WB said they liked it, Jensen said he had someone to write it, called Robbie, and Robbie paused his Castiel spinoff because he saw the value in the workshopped project and its treatments. Then the Deadline leak hit a few weeks later, and Jared exploded.

So like. Misha's contributions were in that late spring area, primarily, but it came up via a casual venue, not a professional one. After that they've talked some times and shared further ideas, but there's really no necessitation of crediting Misha with that if Misha wants to help keep budget down, because it was mostly them bullshitting on zoom or whatever, as normal human beings do.

[leafdebrief]

i am not an artist

i am just a trashman.

sincerely i do not make art or write literatures. other people are doing that cooler and better than i can who will accept that title with way more grace than myself and i promise you that up and down.

please, and i mean this sincerely and nicely: stop calling me, referring to me—and especially telling me—that i am an artist, especially in the instance that i am ever insisting to you i'm not.

i collect trash, use it to make somewhat less valueless trash, use that to make trashy content, and hope other people find trash fun someday too. my dream is to get rich people to give their riches to poor people in exchange for my trash.

this isn't diminishing or self-deprecating to me. it actually kinda bugs me when i say "look at my awesome trash!" and droves of people insist, against my repeated counter-insistence, that this is "art" and not trash. other people make art and i love what they do.

but i also love what i do and can still appreciate art all the same. you don't have to like that my job here is trash but please respect its validity.

personally, i think trash gets an awkwardly bad reputation. not because trash isn't something we shouldn't have less of; less trash would be great. i think its bad rep is tied up in the fact that it is, for at least the time being and for better or for worse, an absolutely inextricable aspect of our human existence. an aspect that is foreseeably necessary and yet made sorrowfully more cumbersome by the puzzling assertion capitalism has made that the people who deal with trash are closer in value to the trash itself than the thing it was before it was discarded.

i think jobs like janitor, waste collector, recycler person in coveralls, trashperson, they're all noble fucking jobs that have been diminished by capital and its misplaced value in itself rather than the people that make it. i think that without trash collectors, artists and basically everyone else would be swimming in trash. paying an artist for their art is great. simply making sure a trash person feels valued for their passion in trash? that's such an easy thing that requires zero payment.

we get paid like you, and we do fun things that this system affords us if collecting trash isn't fulfilling. but it is for me still. i write trash code that trashy companies that exploit people buy because they think it will solve their problems and they asked for it to be trashy enough i can clearly see it won't. that's hilarious to me and pays me real dollar tokens.

in my spare time, i find great personal fulfillment in the pursuit of: collecting, modifying, recycling, and circulating trash, and using all that trash as my only means of convincing other people that maybe we just need to look at trash a little differently. at least the people that love to work with it maybe?

i've got enough of these useless fucking dollar tokens to do something more helpful with real people, like paying an artist for their beautiful art. all i'm asking is that we respect our trash because inside the trash there are also people.

Summary:

if you think of someone proudly calling himself a trashman instead of an artist is demeaning maybe you should look harder at how you view trashpeople and why you see them as less valuable than artists. it's possible you'll find their value is in fact equal in terms of "contributing to society" and might as well be treated that way.

[readyfreddy]

Pride night project update: Saturday, April 29th

I've put around two and a half months into this project, and I am beyond proud of the work that I've put into this. As of right now, I have not presented to anyone on the team. For this reason, I will be delaying posting my results, presentation, script, works cited, etc... I look forward to sharing a modified edition once I present and get confirmation (or a lack thereof) for my project.

In short, it's currently in limbo, and I have a lot of thoughts regarding it.

The team owners and management are currently discussing how they want to move forward with their "theme"(1) nights for the upcoming 2023-2024 season. If ownership decides to go forward (2), my manager and game day operations manager want me to present.

To be honest, it's frustrating. I've put 75 hours into this project, on top of work and school, for free. This is something that I'm genuinely passionate about, and as much as I would like to be paid for this, that is the least of my concerns.

One of the biggest risks that I've taken coming forward with this project has been indirectly coming out to many of the higher-ups of the organization (3). Although I have not experienced any discrimination regarding my identity, part of me fears that this may make things awkward in the future.

Not being out to my family also makes things awkward. They don't know about my project, how much I worked on it, and how proud I am of my efforts. I also can't reach out to relatives who work for other teams for connections with teams that had successful pride nights this past season.

I understand that many people think that "politics should stay out of hockey." The rights of millions worldwide shouldn't be politicized (although they are in many places), the rights and livelihood of the LGBTQ+ community are not political. Furthermore, I am aware that some countries have "anti-LGBT propaganda" laws; which include, but are not limited to displaying rainbow flags, and showing general support to the LGBTQIA2S+ community (4). I do not want to risk the safety of a player or their families. However, I do not tolerate homophobia and transphobia at the individual level (5).

My goal for this project is to help create a positive and meaningful pride night that promotes education, inclusivity, and representation of the queer community. I also want to show young fans (who may grow up queer) that they are welcome here and in hockey as a whole.

By showing younger fans that homophobia isn't tolerated at the professional levels, it will hopefully change hockey's homophobia problem from earlier stages of sport development to the top levels of the sport.

Once again, I am beyond grateful for everyone who has contributed. I could not have done it without you. I appreciate all the support that I've received over the past two and a half months. There is still a long way to go with this project, as well as tackling homophobia in hockey. I am always more than happy to discuss my project with those who want to learn more.

💛,

Kyle Carson 🏒🐴🏳️‍🌈

(he/they)

Footnotes:

(1): I understand that pride night is technically a theme night, it feels weird and mildly condescending to put it as "theme." Being LGBTQIA2+ is not a "theme."

(2): I have no idea what they mean by "go forward." They will be having theme nights regardless of what I do.

(3): I'm out to most of my coworkers, and I have had no issues. However, they are not the ones who sign my paychecks, decide who to bring back for the next season, etc. I hope that my project proposal will not impact future employment.

(4): This is a massive over-simplification of these laws. I do not understand the extent of these laws, and how they carry into other jurisdictions (such as an import player playing in North America).

(5): People may come from cultures and/or countries that are often viewed as "traditionally homophobic." People can also learn to be more accepting towards the LGBTQ community and are not constricted to their previous ways. I'm not asking for special treatment over others, I'm asking for equal treatment that I, as well as others, have not received in the past.

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Budget

So. The Budget.

There’s a lot going on with this budget, or at least it looks and sounds like there’s a lot going on with this budget, but the one important part is the “We’re all in this together” thing that ... well ... isn’t, quite.

GOOD THINGS, SORT OF:

They’re increasing benefits more or less in line with inflation

They’re preserving the pension triple-lock, which means pensions also go up more or less in line with inflation (the pension triple-lock means that pensions will go up by average earnings, inflation, or 2.5% whichever is higher, and with inflation having hit 11% recently ... well)

National minimum wage going up to £10.42 from £9-ish (which sounds great, but just wait)

THINGS THAT SOUND GOOD UNTIL YOU REALLY THINK

More money to the NHS - but it doesn’t begin to fill the hole twelve years of Tory austerity have left it and doesn’t even enable it to stand still, much less improve services

More money to schools - ditto

Basically anywhere they say ‘more money’, it’s not enough

THINGS THAT ARE ACTIVELY BAD DESPITE GOOD BITS

National Insurance threshold increase. Instead of simply increasing the amount we pay in National Insurance contributions, they’re increasing the secondary threshold at which you have to pay. So some people who are working part time take home even less of their paycheque because now they’re obliged to pay National Insurance contributions, where they weren’t previously. There’s a reason they see unemployment rising over the next few years - it’s because a lot of people who can only work part-time won’t be able to because they’d actively lose money doing it.

In these financially troubled times, they’re investing £280m on tackling benefit fraud. I mean, the DWP always errs on the side of “you’re faking” anyway, but now they want to make it even harder, apparently. This while they’ve apparently declared the billions they lost to Covid fraud lost without trace, even they know exactly who fucked them over and could easily reclaim our money.

Apart from the increase in secondary National Insurance threshold, every other tax threshold is frozen. See above re: the rise in national minimum wage. Basically, as pay has to rise when inflation gets this bad (even though it’s not going to be in line with inflation in most cases), that higher rate of pay will now push you into a higher tax bracket. Yes, this hits everyone, but as usual, it hits the lower paid first and worst.

Honestly, everything here is going to hit the less well off worst. Overall, it translates to a 7% decrease in living standards. The Chancellor is blaming the situation in Ukraine for all this ... or rather, “Putin’s illegal war”, which is correct but inflammatory in a way that is apparently supposed to make us feel better about the poverty that is mostly the Tories’ fault, between ‘Trussonomics’ and Brexit, not to mention badly handled Covid response that led to billions in fraud, with the war in Ukraine being just the cherry on top of this shit sundae - THERE IS A REASON WE’RE HIT HARDER THAN ANYONE IN THE G20, DIPSHIT.

Apparently I’m supposed to feel better about the fact that the rich are being hit too. Guess what? THEY CAN AFFORD IT. There was still no tax that specifically targeted the wealthy - windfall tax is easy to avoid, they still haven’t scrapped the non-domicile tax loophole ... in the end, a lot of this “filling in the economic hole” is falling on shoulders of those already bent double with the weight of austerity and economic downturn. I am lucky. I know how lucky I am. I own my privilege. I am fortunate enough not to have to pay rent. I mean, consider: disability not permitting me to work full-time. A horrific shortage of council housing. The price of food going up by something like 16%, and my dietary limitations. I don’t know what I’d do, I really don’t. It’s a hard enough slog as it is.

I’m going to try really hard not to think about it. There is literally nothing I can do about it. I will think about it on and off, in stages, but I have to pace myself on the fear and rage. It doesn’t help that I got woken up by some saleswoman banging on my door this morning. I get we’re in a recession and that people want to get their product out there by whatever means are available, but going back to the days of door-to-door salespeople is just not on. Besides, the whole point of the security doors in this building is that people aren’t allowed to just wander down the corridor knocking on doors like that. Blegh.

[angelbluediary]

Feeling petty… so petty. Though what I’m actually feeling is hurt and angry and rejected and filled to the brim with bitterness fueled by my environment in so many tiny ways that build up. But it looks petty from the outside, doesn’t it.

Still unemployed, I spend $10 on a birthday card for B and put a $20 inside. Write a good note that I hope is genuinely sentimental. M doesn’t do anything—bank account the same as mine, doesn’t pay a single dollar in bills or other responsibilities while I lose hundreds every month—but he chooses not to get B anything, even a card, because he’s saving all he has for a trip with his bf.

Dad comes home from the grocery store yesterday with a card for M to give B (not even knowing if it was needed, but that’s who he gives it to).

That little detail gets under my skin a bit but whatever. Then, I find out from M that while B was in the bathroom the other night, there were 2 water bugs in there with them. They drowned one. With the other, they used THE CAP OF MY MOUTHWASH—which also all this time THEY HAVE APPARENTLY BEEN USING AS WELL, PUTTING THEIR MOUTH WHERE I PUT MY MOUTH BECAUSE IT’S MY MOUTHWASH AND I HAD NO REASON NOT TO—anyway they use the fucking cap to trap a fucking flying water bug and I continue to use it at least 4-5 times after the fucking fact before any of this is made known to me.

So now I’m using the fucking cups under the sink from now on and writing my name in giant letters across any future mouthwash bottle because apparently I have to do that to EVERY SINGLE THING I OWN that exists in a communal area god fucking dammit keep your hands off my SHIT YOU FUCKING PEST.

Anyway, it’s B’s birthday and our cards are on the kitchen table. I’m not an artist like M but I doodled on my card to B and thought it looked really cute. M drew a picture of a video game character B used to like and my dad was going on about how cool it was!!! :))) like I knew he would! We fawn endlessly over M their talent their looks their heart!!! When B opens cards, they grab M’s first and exclaim how amazing how much they love it how they’re definitely keeping the envelope and all; they leave mine for last and I get a generic “thank you;” they circle back around to M’s card and they and my dad talk again about its greatness.

Would it hurt as much if I hadn’t been raised in a strictly “FAIR” family where I’m not allowed to order a meal with my own money unless I get something for everyone? Where a compliment must be paid to everyone else present so no one is excluded? Where my mom compares me to my siblings even though I’ve done more, continue to do more, contribute more than they’ll ever be expected to?

And if I let a bubble of bitterness slip past my lips, I get looked at like I’m a troublesome girl, an uncomfortable presence to be around, a downer, a killjoy, a tolerated monster. A happy face falls and settles into something hard and blank as it studies me. I fucking hate living here. I do—when I start to get used to the grimy fucking feeling of living here, when I say it’s really not so bad after all! I discover my sibling with no hygiene skills and no sense of boundaries has been putting their lips on my used cap night after night all this time and practically married themselves and BUGS to the inside of my mouth I once again get that flaming need to peel the skin off my face until only the meat remains, to clean myself from the inside past all this fleshy layering, because everything is DISGUSTING AND WRONG and surely that’s gotta be undiagnosed OCD at work because it runs in the family and so much clicks into place when I consider the possibility but ohhh the only OCD symptoms we accept around here are my dad’s and B’s! Even though MINE has me CLEANING parts of the house that no one ever fucking touches no matter how gross it gets!!!!!!!!! I hate how I sound! I hate how ugly and resentful I sound when I vent about things like this! That’s not who I am! I feel like the worst version of myself living here and every time I start to feel good about myself again I’m made fun of and told I’m pessimistic and cruel and whatever the fuck else for simply EXISTING and trying to be the best most helpful daughter/sister I can be with my circumstances!! While everyone else fucks off and does what they want! WELL FUCK OFF THEN!!!

After-Dinner Update: realized that I don’t get the Look of Disapproval when I keep my mouth shut. Even I’m radiating melancholy, as long as I’m silent and making the smallest effort to look pleasant enough (even if I can barely meet anyone’s eyes), everything goes smoothly and I’m smiled at.

[theservantsscript]

توكل (Tawakkul)

This is my first short story, on tawakkul- trust and reliance on Allah swt

‘Shall we say next Wednesday, then?’ 

The class groans in response to Miss Swanson. Scheduling a test right after the Easter holidays is just cruel, Nadia thinks, but her English teacher is already scribbling a note down in her planner, confirming that there will indeed be a full hour of stress right here in this classroom next week. Following the teacher’s cue, everyone in the room opens up their planners to mark the date. Nadia dispiritedly does the same, before dropping her books and pencil case into her worn bag.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had been told before the holidays that they had a test coming up; at least then there would have been a chance to revise. But there’s no way Nadia can get anything done with everything she has going on this week, leaving her just Monday and Tuesday evening before the test. Under normal circumstances, two days would be more than sufficient. But lately, she’s been finding it harder and harder to keep up with all her schoolwork. Her mocks in December hadn’t gone very well, even though she’d put in a little more effort for them this year, and whilst she’d mostly managed to scrape satisfactory marks, she’d completely messed up on a few subjects. She still can’t manage to look her History teacher in the eye after he’d pulled her aside to express his concern over her exam score.

English was Nadia’s last period today, and as she leaves the school building she’s hit with the strong rays of the afternoon sun, coaxing her to set her bag down and take off her blazer. She pulls off her jumper beneath the jacket and crams it into her bag, before wrapping the blazer around herself again. It’s not quite warm enough yet, she thinks. She pulls down the fabric of her hijab a little over her chest before readjusting her backpack onto her shoulders. 

The sunshine has consistently been a fail-proof source of serotonin for Nadia, but she’s much too aware of the downsides that have been coming with it around this time of year. Two weeks off from school have meant holidays abroad for her friends and classmates, picnics in parks and a break from everything stressful, whereas Nadia’s experience was far from relaxing. In fact, she feels a little resentful towards the girls at school talking about what they did over the last two weeks when she’s mostly been stuck indoors tutoring as many primary schoolers as she can before her end-of-year exams start, in an effort to not lose out on any income. 

Nadia’s parents are completely stretched thin at this point. She feels awful opening the fridge and seeing all the cheaper, close-to-expiry food that they've been stuck buying for the last few years because of their situation. Trying her best to contribute, she usually finds herself in the supermarket after school. Milk, bread and eggs are all things paid out of Nadia’s pocket now. At first, her mum was completely against it, telling Nadia her earnings should be her savings and things weren't so bad yet that her daughter needed to start paying for their family groceries. But Nadia was insistent on doing so. Besides, who knew, if things really did get that bad, if she would even be able to contribute at all. No one has any idea about the future. It was best she do something while she could. Tutoring was a good job, she was comfortable with it now that she’d been doing it for two years, plus it didn’t require her having to go out. She felt she had been blessed that she hadn’t had to put too much effort into finding students either. It seemed they came to her. Allah swt had given her more than other girls her age, in many ways. 

At the self-checkout, Nadia carefully places a carton of eggs inside a shopping bag as well as a loaf of bread from the ‘reduced’ aisle. She’ll put it in the freezer when she gets home. At this time, the store is packed with kids buying drinks and snacks. She clutches her bag closer, cautiously manoeuvring around a group of rowdy boys. Nadia can’t remember the last time she spent money on snacks. 

Though as she leaves the shop and starts back home, she wonders more positively about her situation. She realises that many of the kids in the store were likely using their parents' money, while she was proud to be somewhat self-sufficient at her age. And her situation had really taught her how important it is to not be wasteful. She knew that Allah was with her no matter what, through every struggle. And she knew that if she remained patient and trusted Him, there was no way she would be abandoned by Him. Aside from her falling grades, her family’s worrying finances and her growing responsibilities, she had to remember that she had been blessed with people around her who loved her and Allah had kept them going for two years. Surely He would keep them going for more. With His help, she could get everything done, she just had to play her part by putting her best effort into everything that she did. 

---

وَمَنْ يَتَوَكَّلْ عَلَى اللَّهِ فَهُوَ حَسْبُهُ

‘And whoever puts their trust in Allah, he [alone] is sufficient for them’ 

- (At-Talaq : 3)

[loneranger0369]

You know.... I am probably no one to comment on God or Gods and the way there is no Justice nowadays...

Moses parted the Sea, to provide safe Passage to the Jewish people from the Egyptians. But then again, Jewish people led to formation of Israel by pushing out Palestinians from their Country (without Mercy), where the Palestinians had been living since Centuries. No Intervention of any DEITY here..

I don't believe that Islam is a Religion. People believe in it, due to years of being forced, I think. There is the death penalty for becoming Atheist, being Gay and more. Women have least value and not sure if they even go to "Heaven", yet they continue to being tortured and still pray to this "God". I'm sorry, but what Miracles did Mohammed do?

He flew on a Donkey, to and from a Place, in the Night; and the Donkey was the only Witness.... (This was said not by me, but by Mosab Hassan Yousef, the Green-Prince and son of the Founder of Hamas). When you say God is great and call people to Prayers loudly, 5 times a day, why do you have to say "Mohammed is the messenger of God"...? And is it not a forceful Attempt to show Domination and/or Superiority, when you are SCREAMING on a loud speaker, telling people to come for Prayers...? When people know that it is Prayer-time, they will go to a Mosque.. Right? Or does the "God" or the Imam not trust people at all, if they will pray, that they scream on the Mic 5 Times a day, telling people to come for Prayers...? I believe that Mohammed is the God in Islam. He made it so. There is no proof that God exists in this Religion.

India... Being Indian, I know of the Stories of Ramayana and Mahabharata. God was born. (Cheated a little). Then defeated Evil and then... vanished... (There are still evidences of foot-prints and more in Sri Lanka and India, as Proof that all those Events most likely happened. Or maybe it was just something created to keep the Believers to continue praying? ) Or were Ram and Krishna just great Kings that people started praying to them? Recently, some Asshole named Shankar Mishra urinated on a Co-passenger during the flight on an Air-India Flight... The Co-Passenger was a Woman, I think... Amazing Manners... Right? Getting Drunk, abusing and urinating on people... This person is also apparently a Vice-president (in India) or President (in India) of a US-based Company... Wells-Fargo, I think... Or atleast he was... Rapes are happening by the second, in India. Horrible Murders... Nirbhaya of Delhi, Priyanka Reddy of Hyderabad, Shraddha Walkar of Delhi.... Where is this God?

Jesus did lots of Miracles, which was witnessed by many people, then died on the Cross and paid (apparently) for the Sins of the people. Yet most people keep suffering. I don't mean that people are not committing any Crimes nowadays, but even the most innocent people are suffering horribly nowadays. What was the point of the Sacrifice of Jesus...?? Or was he just some talented Magician, who fooled most people?

Porn is rampant. Rapes are happening too TOO often. Everyone is perverted. I TOO, am perverted. But I am harming no one. I never harmed anyone. Despite being innocent, I suffered a lot of Bullying all my Childhood and till 1 Year ago. Not sure if I am even now.... Ok. I am not important in the grand Scheme of Events happening all over the World.

Innocent people in Iran are being murdered horribly. Especially during their morning calls for Prayer, after the part where they say "God is Great"....

Is this God?

Where is this God?

What else has to happen, before someone intervenes and stops all of this? Nobody wants to say Enough, when it is enough. When they do (like in Iran), they are murdered horribly.

What has Religion contributed to, other than to Wars and Hatred?

Or is this God such a Pussy, to show up and kill these Monsters and Demons, who never deserved a Chance at Life?

Will no one stop America from f*cking many Countries up? Will no one make America mind its own Business?

America is like the next Great Britain, but from the 1600s. Racist, over-curious, war-mongering.... worst of every thing there is....

When will this stop?

[dashiellqvverty]

the full realization that i have a well-above-average amount of student debt has been a slow one but right now is one of those times its just really hitting me and i’m. fucked.

[howaboutleeches]

Ive never sent an ask before so im not sure if it will work but how about the Arcana main 6 with a seamstress Mc :)

How would the Main Six React to a seamstress MC!

Asra:

🔮 Asra could go hours and hours just watching you sewing, putting pieces together, and working on your machine. He found it mesmerizing how skilled you were, his eyes focused on every hand movement of yours.

🔮 The sound of your machine calmed him down, and he could fall asleep on a couch next to your working space, the one he had prepared specially for you and your craft. Enough lightening to make your job easier, any materials you may need and a comfortable chair to keep you comfortable.

🔮 Once you started working, Faust paid attention to you as well. She would slither up your desk or your back and watch closely, her big eyes shining as she watched you working. "Friend, work hard!"

🔮 Asra didn't want to ask for it, but if you made something for him, he would keep it around him all the time. Wearing, wrapping around his neck, around his waist, he wouldn't let it go.

🔮 Even better if you made something for Faust as well. Maybe something matching for the three of you? It would definitely put a smile on his face and make Faust's tail wiggle in excitement.

Nadia:

👑 No matter how she came to know about your skill, either you telling her or she figuring it out on her own, she became very excited about it. "I've always admired seamstresses! I tried sewing once but I just didn't have enough skill to seek it further", she would say as she grabbed your hands, caressing them as if trying to feel the power coming from them.

👑 Not even a week later, she grabbed you by the arm and led you across the halls of the palace, until she stopped in front of a room, a bright smile on her face. She opened the door to reveal a room filled with fabrics, sewing machines, mannequins, and many other items that made your heart skip a bit.

👑 That was her way of showing how much she appreciated your work. Contributing with her money to help you have the best environment (and products) to pursue your sewing career.

👑 She would ask you to make her outfits and brag to other royals and her own family about how good you were. It didn't take long for you to start receiving requests from other kingdoms and from her relatives as well.

👑 She just wants to see you happy, and knowing she helped you with it also fills up her sense of pride. Don't get me wrong, she didn't do it so she could brag about it, but she likes to know her help took part in your happiness.

Julian:

♠️ When he came to know about what you did, he was beyond thrilled. He started to bombard you with the most various questions regarding your profession, how long you have been doing that, who taught you, and what kind of things you could make.

♠️ Although he felt a little embarrassed to ask for it, he would gather enough courage to do some stuff for him, if you wanted to and had the time, of course. Custom eyepatches would be his top request.

♠️ Eventually, he also started asking for costume capes. He got so excited when you would walk into the room waving a brand new cape, almost like a child receiving a Christmas gift.

♠️ He would often bring you books about sewing, and beautiful fabrics he bought with a discount, calling it his "contribution". The thing is, he felt guilty for asking you to do eyepatches and capes for him, but he felt so good wearing something you made, he couldn't help it!

♠️ Whenever your machine would have any sort of issue, he would rush to your aid and try to fix the situation, even if you knew how to do it yourself. He just loved being useful and getting a kiss on the cheek as a reward for his good deeds.

Muriel:

🌿 He and Inanna were curious regarding your machine. When it started to make noises, Inanna growled a little at it, but seeing it was harmless, she decided to approach and sniff. Soon, she started to enjoy the noises.

🌿 Muriel on the other hand had a frown on his face, saying he didn't like it. He actually didn't have anything against the machine itself, but he started feeling jealous of it. You spent so much time working on it, he felt left out.

🌿 You ended up noticing that and decided to set up a corner next to your working table where he could rest close to you and the fireplace as well. After that, his complaints stropped.

🌿 He sometimes went out to gather some flowers he found in the forest, hoping you could use them when sewing. He always tried to get the brightest and best smelling ones, saying they would look good on you.

🌿 If you made something for Inanna, he would think about proposing to you on the spot. Inanna has been his companion for a long time, and if you cared about her enough to do something nice for her out of genuine kindness, he would know you're the right one.

Portia:

🐈 After finding out about you being a seamstress, she bothered Mazelinka for days so she could give her an old sewing machine she had in her house and other sewing materials that were buried deep into her house. Even if they were there for a long time, they were still very good quality.

🐈 She loved to watch you sewing, finding the sound of the machine extremely relaxing. She also pulled Pepi into her lap to watch you, which she did with wide eyes, following every movement of your hand with her gaze.

🐈 Portia one day asked if you could make something for Pepi, which you agreed to. As a surprise, you made matching sweaters for Pepi and Portia, which made her tear up in joy.

🐈She always bragged about your work to Nadia, saying you were, without a doubt, the best seamstress in the entire city of Vesuvia, the whole world even! She was extremely proud of you and wasn't afraid to show it to anyone.

Lucio:

🐐At first, he tried to convince you to pursue another career path. He said you were royalty now, and royalty didn't have to sew, they had other people to do that for them. It slightly annoyed him that you were doing something that someone else could take off your shoulders.

🐐As he watched you work though, his opinion started to slowly change. He saw the effort and love you put into it, and the beautiful pieces you created. He slowly started to fall in love with it.

🐐He secretly ordered a sewing machine for himself, thinking that it should be easy to sew. Then, he would show you his final work and you would awe and praise him. At least that was his plan, but after twenty minutes of trying to get the machine to work, he gave up.

🐐 He swallowed his pride, something he has only done three times in his life (he kept count of it), and went to you, asking you to teach him how to sew. The smile on his face when he made a scarf was priceless. He paraded it around the castle, making sure that everyone knew he had done it himself. And that you, his amazing and talented partner, had taught him how.

-----------------------------------------------

Well, I've been absent for a good while now, I'm not even sure no one reads my stuff anymore, but if someone still does, here ya go! I hope you enjoy this (◠‿◠✿)

I plan on being more active, maybe posting once a week.

tag list

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If you want to be added to the tag list, go interact on my pinned post so I can know  😉 💖

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female)  ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Fluff ➔Warnings: Angst | Mentions of death | Cursing ➔Word count: 6,865

➔Summary: He was always yours, even before you wrote a book about him, even before he disappeared from your life after high school, and even before he broke his promise. 

➔Request: can I request a drabble of haechan friends to lovers? 🥺

➔ I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a longer story that is more on the fluff side. I felt really inspired to do so. Thanks for sending in the request! 💚

You

  You hated school. Not because you weren’t serious about your studies. You liked the subjects well enough. You liked eating lunch at a table, a little package of apple slices, and a chocolate milk that always tasted like the carton it was in. You liked hanging up your coat in the coat closet, little rain droplets dripping on the wooden floor when the weather was bad. You liked your teachers and how they would encourage your love of reading. You liked all the things to like except one: school hours meant time away from him.

  Him. He pulled your hair sometimes when he was bored. You cried once, your mother saying something sexist about how he must like you. Your father never paid attention, just kept watching the television. You wondered if all boys were that stupid. He also made fun of the way your nose would wiggle when you talked. He had a smart comment for everything. He thought he was smarter than you, even. There weren't many nice things to say right off the top of your head, but you loved him anyway.

 During the school year, the school hours especially, you never talked to him. He was off parading around with his squad of friends, each one more pigheaded than the last. They’d act like they didn’t care about school in the schoolyard, but all of them got decent grades. Sometimes they would pick on others boys, the principal telling others that that’s just what boys did. Sometimes he would raise his hand in class and answer the right question, and even though you sat next to each other in class, he’d never look at you. 

  Your school life was a little different. You were off spending time hovering by doorways, wishing the days would end until you could see him again. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a question of whether you truly knew him or not always on your tongue. You didn’t spend time pretending other people were your friends, because your best friend had always been him.

  After school felt like a different time zone. Neither of you took your time with homework. You would rush, a telltale sign being poorly erased letters and crumpled papers shoved into bookbags. Usually, he would walk to your house and meet you in the tent in the backyard, talking long before he reached the entrance. He always talked about his day as if you weren’t in it. He liked to talk a lot.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you would say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 You were both at an age where you were figuring stuff out. You fought a lot, with him storming out of your backyard tent and walking home, and you resisting the urge to follow him. There was always a phone call from his concerned mother, eased by your own mother reassuring her that you’d both work out your differences soon. You’d been best friends since you were even younger, clinging to each other only when other people weren’t looking. It was too late to make a clean break.

 Summers were your favorite because you had him all to yourself. At that age, you weren’t aware that keeping him was holding him back from other things. You were all too happy to lounge on a beach with him, watching him get stuck in the sand and laughing at him until your stomach hurt. To you, it was the purest form of love. 

 Time made things weird, as it does. The summers you used to love started fading out. He no longer came on family trips. Instead, he went to summer camps with other thirteen-year-old boys. He would come back boasting about being taught to shave his face by the older kids, and then he would show you his new skills. Even though you were disinterested, you always watched him intensely, thinking that if he let you in to this one valuable piece of information, he would open the door to the rest. He never did.

  Gradually, after-school hangouts were taken away from you, too. Your father’s only contribution to any conversation was to say that your best friend would be more interested in girls now. Even as your parents left you alone, the words of  “But I’m a girl!” leaving your lips until the last light was shut off, you never really understood what it meant. In fact, it wasn’t until he flirted with someone else in front of your face that you got the hint. You were a girl, but he never thought of you that way. And he would rather spend his time after school walking to someone else’s house.

 None of that was as bad as high school was. Up until then, you’d been clutching at straws to make the friendship what it once was. You made the tent bigger to accommodate his growing frame. You offered to pay for movies if he’d come alone, and you would even sit through the boring ones just for him. On the rare chance that you’d guilt trip him into staying a little longer with you, it was enough to keep you enduring. When high school truly hit, the studying took up most of your time. The scraps that were left were spent having family time, or visiting schools your mother wanted you to attend after high school.

 Though he no longer ignored you in school, things had gotten harder. He was dating often, sweeping girls off their feet with his wild, charming sense of humor. It was hard for them not to get jealous of you. Though you weren’t around much, the bond you both shared was obvious to everyone who watched the pair of you together. He never really wanted to choose between his childhood best friend and someone he was seeing, but the choice was always very apparent to you. 

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

  You shut it down quickly, appalled that he would even suggest a thing. When you realized your dismissal must have hurt his feelings, you backtracked.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked.

 His smile made you feel like you were on top of the world. Of course he had someone to introduce to you. Thus, the double date was born. You could tag along with him and his girlfriend, with a friend of his you eventually started dating. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it had rekindled something in your friendship you didn’t know you’d been missing.

 He had even come around to your house more. You came home from a study group one time to see him in your childhood tent, his long legs sticking out of it. He bent his body forward, holding up a bag of snacks you recognized.

“You still sit in here?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

  He got a far away look in his eyes, like he did whenever he was truly going to say something stupid. There were times he spoke philosophically, because deep down, he was never the stupid little boy you said he was.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. It pulled you to wherever he was at, back in time to when things felt much easier than they were. High school was ending, and you were all walking down different paths, none of them leading back to this tent.

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, to take his hand and hold it in yours. There was something in you that couldn’t do it. You just kept chewing, waiting for him to keep talking. 

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time.

  Sadly, after high school, the promise was never kept. The image of him walking away from your backyard was the last time you saw him in any place you called home.

                                                          ~♡~

  You held the phone away from your ear because it was too hot. In your other hand, you held a cold, strawberry smoothie, the condensation dripping down your fingers. The sidewalks were busy, so it was tricky trying to weave in and out of the people, all while holding an unfinished manuscript for the next book you were writing. Years of dodging kids in school hallways made you a pro. As you were about to collide with a delivery man, you spun around gracefully and avoided disaster. After taking a sip of smoothie, you brought the phone closer to your ear.

“Do people still do book signings for physical copies?” you asked. “I thought everything was about selfies now. I definitely don’t look good with the flash on.”

“Of course.” your agent told you over the phone. “I don’t think anyone over the age of existence does. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” you said.

 Your agent on the other end sighed. “You’re too young to be worried about any of this. I’ll book you for the signing and people will come, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 You wanted to rattle off all the reasons you were freaking out over it, but you were in public. You took another sip of smoothie and looked at the manuscript tucked against your body. Twenty-four and published, with your book rising in the charts, and a second book underway. You shouldn’t be so scared to have human interactions with strangers who enjoy your work, and yet...

“Okay.” you said, closing your eyes for a moment.” Okay, you can do it. I don’t know why I get like this. Seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know. I know.” your agent said. “Take a bath and relax. Call me later.”

  You hung up and threw your phone in the deep recesses of your bag. Your one hand was wet, and you didn’t want it touching the papers, so you tucked them deeper against your body and kept on walking.

                                                        ~♡~

“A book signing. Can you believe it?” you said into the phone. There was no answer on the other end, not even a little static. You walked a little slower on the sidewalk, letting the outside world disappear from your vision. You took a deep breath. “I sold so many copies, mom. I know you would be proud of me.”

  The message ended with a beep. You left the phone on your ear and stopped walking. You stood still, wondering if one day calling your mother and leaving messages on her old cell phone would eventually make you feel better. She died shortly after you graduated from high school, and the phone number was the only part of her still kept alive. You called it whenever you felt a little lost, or on days when you had exciting news to share.

  Feeling a tightness in your chest, you turned off your phone and dropped it into your bag. You were almost home, but you felt like you weren’t ready to face your apartment again. You found it so funny that your professional life was so full and booked, but your personal life was so hollow and empty.

  You turned away, thinking that you could retrace your steps and find yourself on a street with a cafe still open. You would gladly sit at that table and write, watching strangers living their lives, each one stuffed to the brim of character. Men that tried hitting on women who were disinterested, the click-clacking of their heels walking away from potential danger. Mothers with their children, each child holding a mushy, spit-covered ice cream cone. There was always someone who didn’t belong in the crowd, someone your eyes glossed over, and someone who brought up memories of someone you used to know. It was your favorite pastime: watching people who weren’t watching you. You smiled at the thought of getting to live those many lives, when you remembered that there was always a writing deadline to attend to.

  Another time, you thought, before taking the remaining steps to your apartment and looking through the darkened glass front door. Maybe you would take up your agent's suggestion of taking a bath.

 Feeling a little more jolly, you walked up the steps and let yourself in. You stopped to check your mailbox (empty), stopped to check your phone messages one last time (also empty), and lastly, checked your surroundings. When you were sure no one was around, you walked up the steps, feeling tired both mentally and physically. When you reached the top of the hallway, you stopped.

“Haechan.” you said, his name too quiet for him to hear.

   Sitting outside your door, a hood over his head, sat the boy who used to pull on your ponytail. Only now, the figure in all-black clothes, a little 5 o’clock shadow on his face, the one that looked up at you like he didn’t recognize you, pulled at your heartstrings. 

                                                           ~♡~

  You liked to remember Haechan often, especially considering the main character of your book was written with him in mind. Well, you changed his name in the book and made him a lot cooler, but the core of him was the same. Both men were the epicenter of your whole world, even though one of them had left years ago. 

 Looking at him sitting on your floor transported you back in time. Briefly, your mind tried to convince yourself that you were seeing a ghost from the past. But, when he got up from the floor, approaching you cautiously, and he paused for a second before reaching out his arms to hug you, your fingertips knew what your brain didn’t: he was real.

  “Why are you here?” you blurted, pulling away from him, your body regretful that you had let him go.

“I don’t get a hello?” he asked.

  You raised your eyebrows, the surprise on your face real. You were struggling with words, which annoyed you as a writer. All you could do was look at his face and how much it had changed over the last few years. He was a man now. He was a little taller, and the baby fat on his cheeks was gone. He still couldn’t dress right, and the old confidence faded, but he was still as handsome as ever. When he smiled to show that he was joking, you couldn’t stop looking at his teeth.

“How did you find out where I live?” you asked.

“Your dad.” he said.

 Haechan didn’t so much as give his apologies for missing your mother’s funeral, and he had the good graces not to bring her up at all. You felt grateful, saving the pain of both things for another time. 

“I don’t talk to him much anymore.” you said. “He only comes by to give me old things he thinks I want.”

  Not knowing what to do with the piece of information, Haechan shoved his hands into his pockets. You hated how awkward it felt being in front of him. The silence outside of your apartment was magnified by your deep breathing. 

“Are you here because of my book?” you asked.

Puzzled, Haechan blinked. “Book? I didn’t read your book.”

  You adjusted your bag in your hands and thought of something to say. Before you could speak, Haechan motioned to the bag he brought sitting in front of your apartment door. You looked at it, the big black boulder holding no significance to you.

“I was actually just passing through town. I was wondering if you could let me stay a night.” he said.

Him

  He said he hated the apples, even though they were his favorite fruit. He put them on your lunch tray when you weren’t looking, because if you’d seen him do it, you would have made a fuss. Then, he’d get up from your table and go back to wherever his other friends were, because that was what was expected of him. But his eyes always went back to your table to make sure you were eating well, and he would try his best to remember the way you’d smile when you looked down and saw what he had left behind.

 He hated school. It was full of adults who tried to change him. Laugh a little less, they said. Don’t be a clown. Don’t make too much trouble. There was never any room for dreamers or troublemakers, never any kind of future for those who didn’t have plans by the time they were pulled from the womb. Behave and listen. Listen and learn, or we’ll call your parents. He had heard it all by the time he was thirteen, and he hated every bit of it.

 Not you, though. You never tried to change him. You let him go on his way, even though he knew you felt like he was abandoning you. You were the only person he trusted most days, and in the tent in your backyard, he had felt most like himself. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” you had said once. You were angry, he could see it in the way you tried not to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 He hadn’t known, either. They liked the way he made them laugh, and he liked the attention they gave him. They were different, in the way that they didn’t remind him that friendships were temporary, that everyone you know might someday disappear. He was terrified of that, of the idea that good things didn’t last.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

 He wanted the words to sting. He knew you were jealous, and he knew you would never admit to it. He would have been jealous, too, if the roles were reversed. He wanted nothing more than for you to admit that you cared about him, that you loved him, or to rouse any kind of feeling in you at all. Those words spawned a fight that made it hard for either of you to bounce back from. He pulled and picked at you until you were deteriorating in front of his eyes. Choice words were said, and though the wounds healed as you both grew older, neither of you really forgot the beginning of the end.

 Summer came and went, time never slowing down for anybody. The hatred  burning in his heart subsided as he grew into himself more, though he never really learned how to savor the moments as they happened. He was always reaching for more, stuffing his greedy face full of anything that could keep him content.

   His phone calls to you melted down to just one call per week. He didn’t stop by the tent as much, didn’t ask to catch up on homework. He was drifting through school, using the passage of time to measure the length of girls legs, and how they’d move in his direction any time he smiled.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

 His bright idea didn’t rub off on you. You didn’t smile, didn’t look at him the excited way he looked at you. When you shut it down so quickly, he wondered if your rejection had something to do with him. He was trying really hard to keep your friendship alive, even catching up in the hallways before class to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked, a simple smile appearing and disappearing before he could blink.

 Introducing you to one of his friends, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. He’d had better, but he could hardly take it back. You looked happy when his friend's attention was on you. You were radiant. And it was the perfect set-up. You both could double date and spend time together, just like the old days, even making both of your dates uncomfortable by how close of a bond you had together.

  When the jealousy arrived in a perfect little handbasket, he was sure it was payback for treating you differently, as he was getting to know himself more. He burned whenever he saw you with the other boy, whenever you reached out for his hand, your lips quivering for a kiss. He would stay up late at night in a restless fit, his mind taking turns convincing himself that you were losing your virginity every waking moment. 

 “You’re spending a lot of time at my house.” you had said to him on more than one occasion. 

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I can go home, if you want.”

“No.” you said quickly, your eyes sparkling.

 He wanted to kiss you then. It was a fleeting , special moment, and it hovered in the air between you both from that moment forward. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he had been close to many girls, and no one looked at him the way you did.

 Sitting in your tent, his legs stretched out of it because he was too big, he thought back to every time you made his heart do backflips in his chest. Ever since you were small, he had feelings for you. In fact, his parents used to joke that the two of you would end up together one day, maybe have a wedding in the backyard,  your inside jokes written into your vows.

 Hearing leaves crunching underfoot, he sat up.  “You still sit in this thing?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

 He wasn’t sure why. He had been taking a walk and found himself there, his feet knowing exactly where to go. He had been thinking too hard about life after high school, and about what kind of man he wanted to be.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. Getting you to eat properly was important to him. If he wasn’t around to remind you to take care of yourself, how would you survive the rest of life without him?

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 When he felt like he was going to cry, he shoved more food into his face. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should continue. When you remained quiet, he began again.

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time. It would be so easy to seal the deal with a real kiss, one that had been years in the making. But he didn’t, and neither did you.

“I have to go.” he said, getting to his feet. “You’re going to keep your promise, right?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” you asked.

                                                       ~♡~ 

  He was raised not to comment on the state of other people’s homes, good or not. Looking around yours, he wanted so badly to tell you how well you were doing for yourself, and how proud of you he was. He looked around, his fingers itching to touch the pretty ceramic birds on an end table, to run a fingertip on a dustless counter and hold it up to the light. 

“You can put your bag down over here.” you said, motioning to a spot beside the couch. “My couch isn’t much, but it is comfortable.”

 You were a little awkward, your eyes unable to connect with his. He could see your mind waiting to defend yourself against the little jabs old Haechan would have made about your space. When he didn’t, you didn’t let your shoulders relax. He moved further inside your apartment, and to your confusion, he said it was a nice place, and that he would be happy to sleep wherever. 

 Compared to your nerves, he was quite calm. He felt like he had walked into a time machine and transported himself into the backyard again. It was like nothing had changed at all. You still looked the same, with nicer clothes that looked more expensive than the average persons. It looked like you went to the hair salon to ask for an “adult” haircut, but your baby face made it hard to take you seriously. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

Haechan shrugged. “Sure.”

  When you didn’t ask if he was hungry, Haechan made himself comfortable on the couch. You sat on an opposite chair, folding your hands in your lap. You kept looking around the room nervously, as if you were scared to be alone with a stranger. It hurt him a little bit, but he was mature enough to let it slide.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” he said.

“It’s fine.”

Haechan sighed. “This is much harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?” you asked, touching your fingers to your neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  You got up from your chair as if you’d been electrocuted. “I forgot I need to make a phone call. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.” 

  Haechan watched you as you grabbed your bag and left the room. Never one to keep still, an old habit that never died, he got up and looked around. He came across the room you entered and saw that the door was ajar. He didn’t listen to the conversation, just grabbed little pieces of it regarding a book signing to take place the next day.

“So soon?” he heard you ask the person on the other end of the phone.

 Haechan walked away, his attention set on the fireplace. On top of it sat a bunch of picture frames, one of which he was in. Haechan stared at it for a long time, his eyes tracing the outline of the little boy he used to be. In the picture, the two of you were hanging onto each other. You were maybe eight years old, ice cream running down your chin, and a blissful ignorance only a child can carry on your sweet face.

 He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. The two of you should have been friends forever. It just made sense. He reached out to touch his fingers to the photo but reeled back when he saw your face in the reflection.

“My mother took that photo.” you said, appearing behind him.

He nodded. “I remember.” 

 The air was heavy. He wanted to apologize for not going to her funeral. He had been out of the country during that time, but he should have called you. He could have written a letter, he could have done anything else but ignore it. 

“I was scared.” Haechan said, the words surprising himself.

You held up a hand, as if you didn’t want to talk about it, but Haechan continued, “I loved her, too.”

 You turned your back and went into the kitchen. Quietly, Haechan followed. He wasn’t going to bring it up anymore. He sensed your sadness because it brewed in his chest, too. He sat on a stool as you got yourself a cup and poured cold water from a pitcher into it. 

“How was your trip?” you asked, your voice shaky.” Are you still traveling?”

 Since he left high school, Haechan felt aimless. He needed to explore the world in an attempt to further his education surrounding himself. He had traveled to many countries and met many people that changed him. Disappearing was never the plan, but it was addicting to not have phone calls, or to adhere to schedules. 

“I’m seeing where it goes.” he said. 

  You took a sip of water and never stopped looking at him. When you were done, you placed it on the counter. “I guess I should ask the million dollar question.”

Haechan leaned back in his stool, “Hit me with what you got.”

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to pay for a hotel.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“Haechan, I’ve known you all my life.” you said. “Lying is your calling.”

“I wanted to see you.”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  The bitterness was morphing your face. He could tell you were thinking back to the promise, about how broken it had made you. After he left, he heard from his parents that you called his house often to ask where he had gone. You wrote him letters that were undelivered. You nearly followed him halfway across the world until your mother got sick. 

“Okay.” he said. “It wasn’t a lie when I made that promise. I had every intention of being with you until we were old and wrinkly.”

“Please.” you said. “You knew what you were going to do before you did it. You booked the plane ticket two weeks in advance. You were with me at graduation. You kissed me.”

  He remembered the kiss well. He had thought about it often on his travels, remembering the way your velvety lips felt, and how he never wanted to stop kissing you. The kiss made sense. It was the one thing time had every permission to slow down. 

“I know.” he said.

  He kissed you. You didn’t kiss him. He was happy about graduating. He was riding the high of the plane ticket, of the unknown waiting for him. He was scared it was the last chance he had to show you his feelings. When you kissed him back and it felt so good, he was then scared that he would never have the guts to leave. 

  You continued speaking, each word obliterating his thoughts, “ You want to think going away was just some spontaneous thrill, Haechan, but it fucking wasn’t. You could have told me it was what you wanted. I would have understood. You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye. You didn’t have to-”

 You couldn’t say the words, so he finished them for you. “-leave. I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but I...didn’t want to lose you.”

  The words felt stupid as soon as he said them. You held your hand up to your head and said you had a headache. Haechan took the time to excuse himself and use the bathroom, locking himself away to figure out what he really thought was going to happen when he showed up at your door to get you back.

You 

  You collapsed onto your couch. The last hour felt like a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. You were older and more equipped to handle confrontation, but there was something about seeing Haechan that made you want to curl in your mother’s lap like a child. You bit down on your thumb and thought of the ways you could ask him to leave your private space. There was a hotel down the street that was relatively cheap. 

  You looked at the photo on the fireplace. The little boy staring back at you had no idea one day he would break your heart into a million pieces. He was still a little unsure of himself, his smile unknowingly gearing up to be mischievous in a few years time. You thought of the grown man in the bathroom, and how the years had passed, but he still felt the same. A part of you wanted to pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around him like you would when you were young. An even bigger part of you wanted to kiss him to see if the feelings still lingered, even though you already knew the answer to that.

  Moving your foot, you accidentally nudged his backpack. You looked down at it. It was worn in places, with band buttons adorning the front. One of the zippers was open and the edge of something was sticking out. You looked at your closed bathroom door and back to the backpack before gathering up your courage and unzipping it slowly. 

  Digging your hand inside, you pulled out a corner of his underwear. With a quick “Ew”, you shoved it back inside. Your knuckle touched against something hard. You wrapped your hand around it and unearthed it to see that it was your book. You pulled it out even more and audibly gasped. 

“You liar.” you whispered.

 Hearing the toilet flush, you panicked and pulled the book all the way out and shoved it underneath your couch pillow. Quickly, you zipped his backpack and sat back, crossing one leg over the other. When Haechan came out, he hardly looked at you.

“Coming here was a bad idea,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

You stood up. “Wait.”

  Haechan didn’t hear you. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You could see that his face was wet where he had thrown water on it. He didn’t make eye contact with you, just waved his hand and apologized for being an inconvenience. 

“Leaving again?” you said.

  Haechan stopped moving. He turned back. “I thought about you every day I was gone. Every day. And every day, my next thought was that I didn’t deserve you.”

 You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. For a beat or two, you both stared, your eyes searching each other's. You could see every age of Haechan since you’d known him on his face, from the adorable child to the handsome adult. 

  You let Haechan leave this time. He closed the door with a soft click, his presence feeling like a fever dream. Mindlessly, you sat back down on your couch, and only remembered the book still laying there after some time.

 You took your book and placed it on your lap. It was so worn that some of the pages were slipping out of the binding. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages, the margins filled up with black pen ink. Haechan had written down his input on most pages with things like:

Am I really like this? There is no way this guy is cooler than me.

You know? You’re actually kind of funny. 

Your mother was better than us all.

  You closed the book with a snap and felt the tears falling. You put your head down and tried to feel everything all at once.

                                                         ~♡~

  Your agent walked next to you, her stride slowing to match yours. She didn’t outright say you looked like shit, though it was the truth. Your eyes were a little red, your cheeks were puffy, and you kept itching your neck all throughout the night until there were red scratch marks all on your skin.

 She held open the door to the bookstore “Are you nervous?”

“Am I nervous?” you asked. “I’m shitting myself. I don’t think anyone is going to show up, but with my life, I’m pretty sure I can deal with the embarrassment.”

 Your agent rattled on and on about how special you were to people. She dragged you throughout the two story bookstore, pulling you harder when you tried stalling. You mostly blocked out her words to save your sanity. You didn’t love when people tried buttering you up.

“Just over in this section.” she said. “It starts in twenty minutes, so don’t expect many people right away.”

  When you both turned the corner, there was a sizable line leading up to a table stacked with new books. When the people saw you, they gawked. Some clapped, which made your face turn as hot as your neck. 

“I can’t do this.” you whispered.

  Your agent directed you to a chair, holding you down by your shoulders, so you wouldn’t run away. You took a sip of cold water sitting by your side.

“They’re all here for you.” she said. “Smile and try to be happy.”

“I’ll try.” you said, but when someone smiled at you in front of the line, you felt yourself returning a genuine smile.

 Twenty minutes passed by faster than you wished. When the first person approached the table, you tried to remember your school teachers who believed in you. You recalled all the people who inspired your stories, making a mental bid to thank them for making the first signing so sweet. 

“I really love how you write.” someone had said. Hearing those words made you feel touched. You tried your hardest not to tear up, signing your sloppy signature as best you could.

“Thank you.” you said, the gratitude you felt hopefully being translated well.

  You signed for a long time, the line growing and growing as time passed. Some people came with their own dog-eared books, others with fresh copies. They asked what your upcoming book was about, which made you excited to finish writing it. 

“There isn’t a set ending quite yet, but I’m writing like crazy!” you said.

  You looked down at a book before you and smiled, your fingers touching the pages softly. You signed it and handed it back, giving the fan a smile that reached your eyes. When your eyes locked with his, you felt the world move. Staring back at you was Haechan.

“I would have given you my own copy to sign.” he said. “But I seem to have misplaced it.”

 There was a knowing smile on his face that made you feel flushed all over. He took the signed book back and tucked it underneath his arm. Since yesterday, he looked freshly showered in a similar black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was carefully laid flat on his head like he cared what he looked like in public. He looked handsome, and his cheeks were definitely not puffy.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you read the book?” you asked. 

“You and I both know I don’t make the best choices.” he said. 

  You smiled faintly. There was pain in the smile he returned. You wanted so badly to reach across the table and smooth away the lines on his forehead.

“I know this isn’t the best place.” he said, turning around to look at the line behind him. “But I came here to tell you the truth of why I was outside of your door yesterday.”

“Okay.” you said, your attention no longer on those people.

Haechan continued. “You see, I’m not traveling anymore. “

“You’re not?” you asked. “Then, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming home.”  

 You didn’t know what he expected of you, but he looked a little deflated when you held out your hand. He looked at the book under his arm and back at your hand, his smile unsure. He took the book out and placed it gently into the palm of your hand. You placed the book back onto the table and opened to the space where you had signed your name.

“I’m not going to ask for promises anymore.” you said. “I’ve always asked you for too much. For now, I would just like to tell you something.”

In the book, just below your name, you signed “I love you, Haechan.”

  Before you could even close the book, Haechan came around the table and brought you into a big hug that certainly felt like home. 

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Hermitopia AU Masterpost 1 [COMPLETE]

This is a gathering place for the events of the Hermitopia AU, as well as art and writing resulting from it (art and writing listed at the bottom). Please read the AU introduction and rules here before submitting! Feel free to join the discussions on the HCHC discord server!

(Disclaimer/PSA: All points are asks contributed by the community, the mods take no credit for the ideas within them)

If you would like specific credit in the masterpost, please sign within the text of the ask! (A dash and a signature at the end should do.) Asks not signed will be treated as anonymous.

Summary posts:

Not all elements of plot and character will be summarized, but here are a few basic things you may want to be familiar with before submitting an ask! (Unless you are purposely aiming to create an [ALTERNATE] idea for a Hermit)

1 - Starting positions and each Hermit's powers (based on the submissions from Day 1)

Summary post 2 - Interpersonal connections (based on Day 1 and 2 submissions)

Make sure to check out the second masterpost here for more up to date information, including newer art and writing!

Asks:

- (copied ask) [summarized mod comment]

- Hermitopia | Scar was experimented on by Cub. He gained dangerous powers and wings that resemble a dragon’s, but he keeps both hidden. Unless someone makes him angry. He has no idea who gave him his powers. Eventually he and Cub decided that they wanted to control things beyond their corporation, so Scar ran for mayor. (there are things to fill in but im lazy) [Scar assumes he got the powers in an accident during research. He enjoys having them but has no idea that they were intentional.]

- Hermitopia AU team ZIT is a superpowered crime-fighting trio!

- owing to a very particular set of guidelines he put in place, Joe can now copy powers if he sees them in use and can reverse-engineer how those powers are used. needless to say, this is massively overpowered in the right hands.but it got worse. at some point, there was an... incident... on ConCorp grounds, something to do with a mass amount of entities causing time dilation -- and Joe was caught in the thick of it, unable to be rescued for a while.the problem is, he got out by piecing together how the time dilation worked.needless to say, Joe... has a ridiculous powerset. so he chooses largely not to use his powers anymore unless it's absolutely dire or petty enough to shrug off as a random occurrence. nobody needs to know that one of the most powerful Unaffiliated in the city is standing right in front of them... especially not ConCorp.

- doc was a former high ranking employee of concorp before he volunteered for an experiment and it went horribly wrong. since then, the company has tried to erase any evidence of his existence. doc is now seeking revenge for all that the company did to him and is determined to tear it apart

- HI ok follow up asks will be sent later when my thoughts are coherent but concept: cleo has like super messed up healing powers where she can make healing go Too Far. also i pin her as unbound, considering, like, everything - shovel-shuffle

- So, his power was meant to be super-regen, right? except things don't always quite go to plan. Someone volunteered for the powers surgeries and is arguably dead. Etho is a name shared by the many many clones that developed themselves out of the leftovers. They're not quite individuals, not quite a hivemind. Any one of them has no fear of death because the others will continue, but they all act independently around their overarching goal. (which I won't snitch about) - DragonKay

- Bdubs was a hero. Key word? Was. He climbed the ranks through the government, he was a loyal and dutiful member of society, and he used his plant manipulation powers to subdue evil-doers without hurting them. But he’s always been a friendly guy, and he couldn’t help himself—talking to the Unrestrained, especially those in custody, was interesting! ...but it’s a slippery slope to walk, being friendly with the enemy and not sympathizing to their cause. Nobody knows where he is now, but there are rumours of a vigilante with similar abilities, and his three compatriots, two of whom he helped escape from ConCorp... They call themselves the nHo. - slimetek [Bdubs deserted Concorp while helping Doc escape after his experiment went wrong]

- Concorp managed to make a device that allows animals to speak or translate their thoughts into writing. This means that the good old mayor Scar has a certain cat giving some advice on how to run the city.

- Iskall is an assasin/mercenary against their own volition. An accident they'd rather forget almost killed them, and in exchange for their freedom and free will they got to live as a cyborg. Though its hard to forget with the implant that covers their eye and the limb of cool metal hanging at their side - @ghastly-ghostie [Iskall works for Concorp off-books, bound by the debt owed to them for the life saving experimental modifications]

- so I think grians original powers could be like cloning, but something goes wrong and the clones are different people. as a result of the duplication process, some funky magic rocks are made. the clones decide to take most of the funky rocks and run off, leaving grian with one rock that gives him some new abilities and the clones' rocks give him others. also uhh mechanical wings bc yes. so grians plot is him trying to find them while also causing problems on purpose. infinity stones. update to my grian ask from earlier, I had better ideas: the rocks are old like magic things that grian finds before the cloning and ends up collecting, but his clones snatch them - simplyskipper [some of the alternate Grians are aligned with different factions in Hermitopia, while the locations of others are farther or unknown]

- Hermitopia- Impulse has solid-light powers. He has golden crystals implanted in his hands, which he can reflect light through to solidify it into all sorts of shapes. This can be used to make barriers, projectiles, and much more, though more detailed constructs take more time.- @mleemwyvern

- Hermitopia AU Poultry man is a well-known chaotic neutral leaning towards good, as a one of the unrestrained.

- I think Team ZIT should be a little be wild card-y, that's how they act after all! [they are employed by the government for standard crimefighting, but they don't always take Scar's word at its intended meaning and often play a bit on the chaotic side when given instructions]

- [Hermitopia AU] False is an antihero/vigilante type who's specialty is not defined by powers or the such, but just... the absolute skill of being able to dual wield two (more sci-fi era) short swords. Maybe someone upgrades them to be "enchanted" (electrical, fire, etc. something that tech could do well probably). She's willing to be paid-for-hire, but if you go past her moral line she's also willin' to backstab you. -- @cheshire-vex [she's a free agent who sort of drifts between Concorp, the government, and whoever else will pay her on a job-by-job basis]

- Hermitopia impulse has more connections then one may think. He has ties to people pretty much everywhere, for reasons unknown. There is a 100% someone will come and greet him wherever he goes. [the greetings are usually friendly]

- Hermitopia Au! Keralis is a hero who most people wouldn't expect to be too skilled at fighting. His power is similar to hypnosis so he has no need to get very physical. Yeah, that changed when some bastard villain decided to attack his friends shop. [that incident caused his employer Scar to realize his untapped potential for protecting people and assign him to a few more high-stakes jobs]

- Hermittopia!TFC was one of ConCorp’s first experiments and as such his powers are a bit less...refined then the others. He has geokinetic powers, allowing him to psychically control rocks and other earthen materials. He used to be one of the VEX programs top graduates, but has since parted ways with them for unknown reasons and now operates his own plans of keep crime in Hermitopia under control. -lechairpourriedegrianri [he is considered Unaffiliated and both Concorp and the government largely leave him to his own devices, since he is helping to keep the city together]

-Wels doesn't have powers. He does have a super-suit made of fire and heat resistant carbon fibre (like the material used for the space shuttle) and has a built in hologram projector. One time, he used the hologram projector to project an image of himself, which everyone thought was a clone. He didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. (AKA everyone thinks Wels has powers but he doesn't) -Silverwolf53 [he got the suit in Project VEX]

- To follow up on the Impulse ask- Team ZIT are a space-themed superhero team. Government-aligned, at least for now.Tango has meteor-like powers, he can shoot fire from his hands and feet and often uses this to propel himself at high speeds. Zed has gravity powers! He can increase or decrease the density of any object, to the point of making small black holes. They all have space-themed costumes, and it was probably Zed's idea. - @mleemwyvern

- TFC was the first participant in project VEX

- Grian was an attempted success. It fixed some problems with Etho's unintended cloning, but at the same time created some problems of its own, seeing as the clones appeared to have a life of their own.It's fine, though. It's probably fine

- I would say Grian is unrestrained, a bit like Etho, Chaotic in his own way. Does not activily Try to hurt people, but does mostly what he wants for fun.-Ciara

- Xisuma is a civilian- he has hero friends, but despite all their teasing he’s never wanted to go through VEX training. But in the night, the unrestrained Void walks the streets [Void is a symbiotic creature made of nothingness that uses Xisuma's body as a substitute physical form]

- Bdubs was such a good man... he could be trusted to look after Doc, couldn’t he? Somebody had to oversee him, somebody who was reliable and would never, ever consider betraying the mayor and ConCorp...They let their guard down, and Bdubs got curious. Bdubs made a friend.And then they lost him.- Slimetek

- The hels hermits are considered evil by default. How do you spot these clones, how could you protect yourself? Well in the past it was a lot easier, just look for their red eyesNowadays contacts exist but that doesn't stop people trying to call the police on tango, calling him a hels. Hes netherian, they have unnatural eye colours and their iris fills the entire eye, hes not evil but if people keep doing this hes gonna be!

- Beef woke up from his brain surgery to receive telepathy powers, took one look into the mind of the overseer, and noped put of there as fast as he could go.He's on very public record. After all, the mind control he may be capable of is a very convenient explanation for anyone who turns against concorp... ~DragonKay

- Hypno can’t control minds.They say he does. It’s why he’s named Hypno, after all.In reality, he can’t control people like that... but he can control what they see.Your best friend might look like your greatest enemy. A pit of lava might look like solid ground. A 100-foot drop might look like a step down.It’s a good thing he’s a hero, and a good thing he keeps his true powers hidden beneath a guise of low-level hypnotism. There’s no telling what he could do if they let him go. [he works for Concorp, helping to protect VEX trainees from people trying to harm them before they get a chance to finish the program, as well as keeping other resources safe]

- The 9th Street Incident [referring to an earlier Impulse comment] was a friendly greeting. That particular version of Etho just thought that drawing weapons would be a friendly greeting for Impulse, but Tango and Zed seem to disagree

- They still don’t trust Bdubs. He was with the government for a long time, and things are hard out there on the run. Besides, they don’t know what he got up to there. ConCorp could have any sort of information on him, something that might scare him back.Bdubs understands this. He doesn’t want to go back. He’d hate to go back....but they think he will, and maybe there’s something he’s not telling them. An ace that ConCorp has yet to play.- Slimetek

- Mumbo works for concorp as an engineer specialising in robotics, most recently taking on the task of maintaining Iskall's cybernetics that somehow they just keep damaging. Iskall assures him they're just.. very clumsy. So far Mumbo hasn't caught on.

- Ren's power is that hes a werewolf, but he only found out when he was in his late teens with his childhood friend Iskall. He still feels guilty about it, he did kill his best friend afterall. Or so he thinks.He's lived off grid ever since, too overwhelmed with grief and guilt to rejoin society. Most assume he's dead too - @ghastly-ghostie [Ren dropped Iskall off to Concorp as a last ditch effort, running away before he could see whether they took his friend in or not. They did, starting Iskall's plotline. Iskall told Concorp about Ren's abilities, triggering a panic in the Concorp ranks at the fact that Ren is a superhuman being created by some force other than their own project]

- Where does Void come from? The same place all powers come from.Little did they know, something survived the crash and has taken a human host. Maybe it's not the only one...No, that place is not Concorp. Concorp's original goal was to develop technology by reverse-engineering from a crashed alien spaceship. These aliens did gene-editing the way some people do nose jobs, so they adapted that technology, too.~DragonKay

- i've already said a bit about it in the discord but i have hermitopia cleo brainrot. joe being there was able to save her by giving her the regen powers along with her puppeteering telekinesis power. anyways cleo is presumed dead, sent by concorp into a mission as fodder basically until zit could arrive. but now there's is one (1) bitter undead vigilante against concorp that is presumed dead

- Stress’s name has a few meanings in relation to her. Whenever she gets too angry or /stressed/, she transforms into the StressMonster, a monster that feeds off of other people’s stress to become more powerful. Luckily, the monster is rarely seen, but does terrible things when she is. She’s one of the most feared creatures in Hermitopia. Stress hates her and tries her best to hide her from her friends, but it can backfire sometimes. - @guster-animations

- to follow-up on Joe being presumed dead: remember the time dilation incident he was stuck in? ConCorp figured it was best to cut their losses and not try to send anyone in to rescue him -- it would be a pointless mission. so they abandoned him, quietly announced that he had died in the line of duty, and put the affected area under high security clearance in order to prevent any future accidents. they figured he was already dead. and Joe figures, given that they up and abandoned him, maybe it's for the best that they continue to figure just that. he changed his last name to "Hills" -- a joke about the biome containing the time anomaly -- and otherwise proceeded to stay under the radar. he still uses the time dilation area as a base of operations, sometimes; it's very useful to have a hideout that people physically cannot get into/out of without his direct assistance. is he nursing a grudge, coming up with some convoluted scheme to get back at the paramilitary group for abandoning him? or does he just want to live a relatively normal life off the grid? who knows. that's the Joe [REDACTED] Hills difference. -@betweenlands

- False has some big scary power that is almost Eldritch she just happens to prefer a sword and doesn’t really care for who she works for as long as they’re paying... (they don’t need to know of the power that had harmed the ones she loves the most)

- Keralis once encountered Void sulking around where Xisuma worked. So fearful for his friend’s safety, he used his power on Void and told him to go away. Apparently the charm is still active, because if Void spots Keralis anywhere, he’ll turn tail and run. No, it’s not because he’s scared. Absolutely not.

- Grumbot serves as a sentient supercomputer created by Mumbo for Grian. Grian is using Grumbot for... various activities, all of which harmless, but a certain evil clone [Helsknight] has reverse engineered the technology. Concorp would like for Mumbo to give them the tech, but mumbo stuck some eyes to the computer, got emotionally attached, and refuses to give up his baby boy.

- When Impulse hears his friend/colleague Bdubs has been "taken over" by the mind-controller [Beef], he wants to go on an off-the-books mission to rescue him! Just giving up like they were told to isn't in his nature.Of course the rest of ZIT are with him. Heroes save people! It's what they do!~DragonKay

- Hermitopia is a mixture of sleek futuristic and cyberpunk in terms of style. It really depends on where you live and work (ik this doesnt include any hermits but whatever) - @ghastly-ghostie

- I wonder if Cleo's overactive healing powers affect herself and if any injuries she receives immediately heal over like wolverine or deadpool

- Ren used to be friends with Cleo too, but then she died. Strangely enough, she died on the same day that Ren killed Iskall. Ren’s lost all his friends. It’s hard living in isolation when there’s no one left that even cares about you. (Unless— no, that’s impossible.)

- I was thinking about Biffa, like you do. And Biffa would totally be some robot that was created by Project VEX in its early stages, however they realised fast that it was easier to use humans and give them powers, maybe its not their strong suit with robots. But Biff went sentient and glitched and was scrapped so hes just out there doing his thing. Hes a wildcard and plays for which side he wants at the time, sometimes he'll help or sometimes hes the one causing trouble. He looks pretty similar to a android like in Detroit:Become human but hes a bit uncanny and eerie, maybe its the eyes or the blood red armour. Powerwise, he's got more strength than a human does, mainly because he isn't limited like others are. try not to get punched by him, it'll hurt! [He's convinced Concorp will destroy him if they find out he's alive and Unaffiliated] -lucodak

- Going off of my thing about hermotopia impulse having friends everywhere....this may include the nho. Okay, they beat him to a pulp on one of his solo patrols once, but theey felt bad n patched him up! He has to keep it a secret. He brings them dinner alot. And checks in on them.

- Beef is the perfect cover-up for Bdubs’ desertion. ConCorp doesn’t want any other employees getting bright ideas, now, do they? Nor do they want employees getting nosy and trying to figure out where Bdubs went. They don’t have to tell people what Beef’s powers are. They just release that he developed powers after brain surgery, and a rumour that he was spotted lurking around before Bdubs suddenly betrayed ConCorp... and people draw their own conclusions. -Slimetek

- xB is pretty sure he’s supposed to be evil.I mean, that’s what sentient AIs usually end up being, according to a quick internet search. And yet he’s... not. Or maybe he’s just on the wrong side. - Slimetek

- Yes impulse is friends with the nho....what he doesn't know? He's....easily susceptible to hypnosis. Very easily.......Of course, after impulse is basically a very tired n warm cuddle bug, so, cuddle piles tend to happen after all information is spilled. He must've fallen asleep at their apartment again! Whoops! But it's okay.....they take good care of him if he does! [Beef is using his mind reading ability on Impulse without his knowledge, to make sure that he hasn't spilled their location and to predict the government's next moves. He feels slightly bad about it but feels that it is necessary for the nHo's survival.]

- So far, Grian has only ever encountered two of his clones, NPC Grian and Robot Grian. Technically three, if one were to count Ariana Griande. Grian doesn't really, but some do. [Ariana Griande is a popular musician in Hermitopia who is building a career using the magical stone of voice enhancement she recieved through the cloning process]

- To handle the two Grumbot issue: the one working with Helsknight can be Jrumbot, a legion of robot drones meant to work as Grumbot’s physical form that ended up being hijacked by Helsknight and turned against ConCorp

- There...aren’t a lot of “normal” animals left in Hermittopia. ConCorp took one look at the animals populating the city and decided that, hey, they could make some improvements. Species after species, they modified their behavior, appearance, internal structure, whatever they could fix, tweak, or add. They were just improving their lives and the lives of the citizens of Hermittopia, after all, but the new animals quickly outcompeted the old for resources and habitats. And if it makes it easier for ConCorp to stick a camera in one or two of them, or set up robotic animals to keep a better eye on the city, no harm, no foul, right?(Bonus: there is one (1) singular cat left in Hermittopia, resulting in a spy movie-style heist where two teams of Hermits attempt to “rescue” the cat simultaneously. The cat keeps wandering away from both teams. Shenanigans ensue)- Adonis [the cat is Jellie, who orchestrated the competition between Team ZIT and Cleo and Joe for her own entertainment, getting away from both parties in the end]

- The Leak:Not all mutations are the result of controlled experiments! If some alien tech got away from the crash site, concorp never would have picked it up. It might have got into nature, not as refined as they made it in the labs but causing little changes here and there. Ren may have become a werewolf from being bitten by a mutant wolf~DragonKay

- Impulse is able to use his powers to create illusions or male things appear invisible! Sort of. After all, light dictates what we see. It takes a lot of focus, though, so it's not that practical. -@rayveewrites

- The one thing Hels wasn't able to steal was the cloning technology, hence his hostility with Concorp -- he needs the cloning device, because how else is the void going to get a body of their own? - SilverWolf53

- *glances at the hermitopia werewolf ask* okay but what if the same mystery people who made ren into a werewolf also created jevin, and maybe Etho? idk if either of them have been given any hermitopia headcanons yet lol. but im sure the same people who made a werewolf could make a sentient slime (or perhaps rescue one) or make... whatever etho is. [Since the "second organization" is an incorrect assumption believed by Concorp, Jevin was created when he came in contact with a waterway contaminated by The Leak. Concorp assumes he was created by an opposing organization and not by accident, and therefore would like to bring him in along with Ren.]

- hermitopia - mumbo and grian were friends back when cloning experiments were still happening (or . as friendly as you can be with someone who's treating you like a lab rat), but after everything went wrong and grian escaped, mumbo has his memories wiped nd thats why he's trusted w iskall's stuff? bc he inherently remembers working on high-level things without knowing where he learnt it - muscle memory, yk?anyway massive angst with grian maybe recognising mumbo, but not the other way round, and trying to rekindle their friendship? and that's where grumbot comes in? -gin [Mumbo's memory was wiped so that he would forget the deadly purpose of Iskall's cybernetics, which he was working on at the same time as the Grian project in the background. Mumbo does not remember creating Grian's mechanical wings or Iskall's arm and eye, and he has no memory of either individual previous to "meeting" Iskall as the person assigned to his repair and upkeep.]

- Etho doesn't so much have powers as he is powers. All the powers the ‘original’ had went into creating him; now he just exists, as whatever sort of being he is. Not a human one, that much is obvious. ~DragonKay [Etho has no powers beyond the hivemind and his training, due to the error in the experiment that caused the clones]

- Mumbo started the button as a joke. A nonsense social expirement to see how much people want worthless signs of status. Unfortunately things got out of hand, and violent too. But hey! It's not his fault that the five special anomalous stones were misplaced into the prize dispenser! It was just chance that they fell into the hands of the clone of the worst gremlin in the city! Don't fire him! [He was not fired, but Cub was Decidedly Unhappy with him for a good long while]

- Void mostly trashes ConCorp facilities- trying to figure out if any of his siblings survived the spaceship crash, but occasionally he’ll pilfer from a bakery, because X is a health nut and Void just wants a gods damned cookie [Void very much dislikes unseasoned chicken]

- If the Stress Monster gets too big, too dangerous, Cleo is sworn under oath to Stress to zap her with her healing powers. Cleo doesn’t like to do it, overhealing a stressed Stress makes her so calm she gets knocked out for a couple of days, but Stress can take a small comfort in the fact that at least one person out there can stop her

- Ooh with the self healing Cleo she'd be able to develop a small amount of super strength, with how the mind keeps from going full throttle because it would destroy the body once she gets over it it's hysterical strength whenever she wants [it is quite painful, but a good backup plan]

- Being a hive mind of disposable clones that can spawn new copies at will, it can sometimes be hard for the Etho Entity to remember that it is indeed a big deal for other people when they get hurt. This can make him come off as callous to those around him, placing him firmly in the "villain" category in most citizen's books, but he really doesn't intend any harm!

- Grian used to be tall, but then the cloning happened. With each clone they stole a little bit of his height making him the short man he is today. He needs to capture those clones and get his height back. [Grian isn't entirely sure how to accomplish this, but he's dead set on trying! He misses being tall!]

- While Grian was perfectly fine with Ariana Griande living her own life, he did insist on one thing.Her "older brother" getting backstage access whenever she was on tour. He's very proud and supportive of her and her music career.

- Mumbo is perfectly content working in tech, watching the other hermits get up to crazy shenanigans. Except of course, there was that one time he was out testing some new gear and accidentally saved a crowd from some villains... and there were all those times after too...But hey! It’s not his fault that people like him, and he certainly isn’t going to get caught by Concorp during his after hours activities. [Mumbo considers himself an accidental hobbyist, not thinking he has the nerve or the skill for proper hero work. Time will tell if he's right about that or not...but unfortunately, he probably is. This should be fun.]

- There’s still some people overseeing VEX, even over Cub. They’re the ones that push Cub to do certain experiments or to scrap one. They’re the ones to give Cub the decision for Iskall’s life debt. Scar was under them too for the longest time, but eventually he wanted out. Cub still wanted in. They were still in the right, right? That’s what they tell him. He’s starting to doubt it. [Cub is way too invested in everything he's built to even think about going rogue now, but he does resent and occasionally question the judgement of his superiors increasingly as his project begins to fail more and more often. He also fears that Scar's shift in career will be seen as a betrayal, rather than as a tactical attempt to gain the company influence in the government.]

- Been thinking about the impulse + nho asks and just,,, what would happen if concorp/the government found out? It cant be good with interrogation/hypnosis on both sides (incase you cant tell,, the brainrot got me as well) (apologies if this is a mess im excited) [Hypno is assigned to set up an illusionary conversation to make Impulse reveal nHo location to Concorp and government agents while thinking that he's actually talking to the nHo in a random encounter]

- The one mind Beef can't read is Etho's. Their hivemind is just too weird for him to comprehend. If he ever tries to listen in, it sounds like just a bunch of static from an old TV.

- for hermitopia au!: Out of most of the heros, the most reckless may be team zit. sure they tell themselves they'll plan out missions but it's hard when they share a braincell and tango just runs in. impulse and zed share a look everytime and have to run after him to make sure he doesn't get too hurt or overwhelmed by the enemy. in their defence its hard to plan ahead against an enemy when you dont know what they are thinking.-lucodak ["You might not have known what they were thinking, Tango, but we'd generally like you to know what you're thinking!"]

- i bet ConCorp really wants to make it out like theres some secret shady organization creating all these people with mutations, rather than their own operatives deserting and their own failure to contain dangerous chemicals... whether its malicious coverups or just ignorance to the fact they messed up, wonder what would happen if that sort of thing came to light...? [If they found out that the unintentional superhumans were a result of the poorly-contained crash site? Cub would lose his job...maybe worse. If Cub found out (and he hasn't, yet) he would do everything in his power to keep that information from his superiors.]

- (paraphrased) Impulse accidentally walks in on heroes and agents breaking down the doors of the nHo's hideout and confronting them. Scar claims that they did so on information Impulse himself provided and thanks him for his service. Impulse, feeling confused and betrayed, resists Hypno's attempts to illusion him back to Scar's side and flees the scene with the nHo, knowing very little other than the fact that he doesn't want to be manipulated by the government any more (and still not knowing that Beef has been reading his mind)

- Impulse may have been labeled a traitor. But do you really think that Impulse, secret rebel, starting to learn how dangerous and corrupted Concorp really is, wouldn't let his best friends know about the danger they might be in? I think Team ZIT is more loyal to each other than to the government. - @mleemwyvern [ Impulse's first stop after escaping with the nHo is to find a place to secretly meet Tango and Zedaph and tell them about the way he was tricked. It takes a lot of explaining and a lot of trust, but they eventually decide to believe his claims and are left with a choice: will they openly go rogue and become a target along with Impulse and the rest of the nHo, or are they better off using their established image and reputation to keep an eye on the government heros' movements from the inside?]

- (two asks combined, paraphrased) Ren runs out of supplies and decides to head back into the city, confident in his ability to stay off the grid after so many years of experience and such a long time away. Once there, he runs into Doc, and they hit it off quite quickly. However, the more Ren talks the more Doc realizes - with his ex-Concorp knowledge - that Ren matches the description of Iskall's main target exactly. He warns Ren, who is then faced with the knowledge that Iskall is alive and assigned to kill him...so many questions and so many tears to follow...

- Why did Hermitopia start needing heroes? When the Unrestrained started to appear, if course. Why did the Unrestrained start to appear? A question asked a little less. When did the VEX program start? When did they start taking more risks? When did they stop caring about certainty and safety and shift towards trying to push boundaries they weren't ready to? People can be so enamoured with the concept of superhuman abilities, something bright and glorious and good- and perhaps they could have that too- they don't ask all the right questions. It's all an elaborate game of damage control, don't let the flashy heroics fool you, they've made mistakes, terrible, terrible mistakes, and now there are villains running loose with powers they fooled ConCorp into giving them. Are they villains? Are they victims? Does it matter? They're causing problems. [Project VEX has developed into a solution to its own problems, a self perpetuating cycle...one that Cub, as a businessman, is very familiar with. It's what keeps the wheels of industry turning. It's what keeps innovation creeping forward. It wasn't intentional, not this time...but if it keeps his project alive, he'll take it.]

- One time, Jevin had narrowly dodged being captured by Concorp. He was laying low in the forest out of town, when he had a run-in with some sort of wolf creature. Thankfully, claws and teeth couldn't exactly hurt him anymore, so he just played dead until it gave up.When the moon set, the wolf-thing slowly transformed into a human being. Ren was horrified at the thought he'd lost control and hurt someone- again- but Jevin assured him he was fine. Jevin got the feeling that the werewolf needed a friend, and Jevin himself needed a place to stay for a while... -RayveeWrites [Ren and Jevin are not currently in the same location, but they each have a means of contacting each other for help if needed]

- Worm Man wasn't a well- known super, but plenty of people have noticed that he seemed to vanish at the same time Team ZIT first started active duty. Those people have also noticed that one of the members has a very similar power set to WM.Officially, that's just a coincidence. Officially.-RayveeWrites [Zedaph was trying to get some unofficial practice while still in training in the VEX program]

- A common misconception is that Bdubs conjures up his vines from nowhere. He can't.Like any plant, his vines grow from seeds. They grow unnaturally fast, when Bdubs wills it, but they have to come from seeds. Where do these seeds come from, you may ask?Well, a long time ago, Bdubs ingested some strange fruits. Somehow, in wild defiance of human biology, the seeds contained in those fruits worked their way into his muscles and germinated. Some of the roots worked their way into his brain and fused into it; the rest spread through his muscles, grew beneath his skin, coiled around his bones. Thanks to the way the vines connected to his brain, Bdubs is able to command the vines, and their magic, at will.The vines produce seeds; some stay in his body to replace the old ones when they die, and most work their way into a pair of 'seed pods' in his wrists. Bdubs provides the nutrients, the energy; the vines provide the seeds, the magic. As an extra bonus: if the vines were to be totally removed from Bdubs' body, he would be at best extremely weak, and at worst dead. The vines have grown into his muscles, to the point where they've essentially replaced them in some areas. It's fortunate that they connected with his mind so early on, otherwise he'd be dead. -RayveeWrites [Concorp developed the fruit, and the fact that Bdubs is evidence of the unlikely success of that experiment makes them all the more angry at his betrayal]

- A lot of excellent xB information (it's too long to copy but please read it it's very good)

- Iskall has exactly one (1) failed assignment. That assignment? The kill or capture of Stress. Stress and Iskall have been, or should it be were now, friends for a very long time, since before Iskall even met Ren. So one can imagine the stress this causes Iskall, to be told to kill his one remaining friend that he knows is alive. Of course, this stress is quite enough to to Stress's Stress Monster into one it's strongest yet seen forms, allowing for Stress to then get away. (1/2)(2/2) Of course, Con Corp doesn't- and can never- know the true reason that Iskall cannot kill or capture Stress. If they knew, if they subjected Stress to the same hell he's in- no, that cannot happen. So Iskall hires False to protect Stress, to interfere whenever they send him on a mission for her. Luckily, False is good at keeping secrets when she wants to, and this one she'll keep. But as far as Con Corp knows, Iskall has severe stress and trauma from being a cyborg, and that's why he fails. [This all adds up to a monumental waste of Concorp's time and money, which also results in False getting payed, so all parties involved are happy except for Concorp >:)]

- Impulse would take a bullet for his teammates, and he knows they might be about to take one for him, keeping him updated on what's going on government side of this... slander. Still, Tango and Zed are great actors, and if he didn't know better, he might be a little worried they would *actually* be hunting him down in the name of justice [Tango and Zed are now being sent on missions to retrieve Impulse, which they must pretend to lose believably. They occasionally overestimate their friend's abilities and give him a few more close calls than he'd like, but overall the ruse is holding up.]

Writing:

- Wels, Hels, TFC, and Grumbot

- Bdubs Concorp promotion and desertion

- Joe Hills in his time dilation hideout

- Etho clones, ZIT, and the nHo

- Keralis and Void

- [ALTERNATE] Reveal of Impulse's situation with the nHo

Art:

- Impulse suit design

[silkling]

Of Newfound Knowledge and Truths of a Yesteryear

Of Moments in Life AU

———————————————————————————————————

Heatwave stood on his small training platform, punching the wooden dummy and trying to ignore the rage bubbling in the back of his processor. That morning, he’d read some of the data-pads that High Tide and Optimus had left, the ones Blades had read when Dreadwing first crashed on the island. What he’d learned had made him angry, and he didn’t understand how his teammate hadn’t been angry, too.

The Decepticons…the pads had a lot of information on what the ‘Cons had done throughout the War. The information had definitely been censored and sanitized, probably intentionally so his team wouldn’t be exposed to the full horrors of the War through the data pads, but it had still been enough for Heatwave to understand.

Dreadwing had said that the Decepticons started as a social revolution. But they were certainty far from that, now. The Rescue Force, Praxus, Iacon…they’d destroyed everything that had stood in their way, not caring if those they crushed were even involved in the War or not. It made him angry, his rescue protocols screaming with rage and loss in his processor.

As the conflicting emotions peaked, he heard the sound of pedes behind him and turned to see Dreadwing. Heatwave stepped away from the training post, the platform lowering to the ground as he crossed his arms and frowned. He liked the former Deception. He hadn’t spent as much time with him as the rest of his time, but he big bot was never violent or mean. He was a little blunt, and seemed to be a bit overly aggressive in his solutions for Heatwave’s peace-orientated processor, but he wasn’t a bad bot. At least, he didn’t appear to be.

Dreadwing seemed to notice his internal distress, because the larger bot pinned him with a considering and slightly concerned look. “You seem troubled, little one.” he rumbled.

“I’m not little.” Heatwave answered on reflex, mildly indignant. He didn’t understand why the Seeker referred to him and his teammates like that. Well, he supposed he did. They were all little, compared to him. “And…I guess I am.” He looked up at Dreadwing, a hard frown twisting his features.

“So I see.” Dreadwing, for his part, now looked ever so slightly amused. “And what is it what is causing you such distress?”

Heatwave made a frustrated noise, his vocalizer clicking in a sort of nonsense babble as he tried to think of how to explain. “I just–I don’t understand. How could they have done…everything they did?”

“What are you talking about?” Dreadwing asked, confused.

“I read the data lads Optimus and High Tide left! I learned about some of the things the Decepticons did!” he snapped, frustration and anger bleeding into his tone in place of previous confusion. Just the thought of what he’d learned was enough to make his spark sing with rage.

“Ah, now I understand.” The Seeker stated, his gaze becoming solemn and understanding. “And what did you learn, Heatwave?”

“You know what!”

“I do not. Your data pads are Autobot records, youngling. While I have no doubt there is truth there, I am also quite sure that much of that information is highly biased or just pure conjecture.”

The fire truck scowled. “Oh? So the Decepticons didn’t destroy Praxus, which was supposed to be a Neutral city?”

Dreadwing paused. “They did. It was before I joined, but they did.”

“And you’ve probably done a lot too, haven’t you?” He demanded. “Killed a lot of innocent bots, destroyed a lot of lives?” he was angry and hurting and he didn’t understand how Dreadwing could have joined a cause that was so horrible unless he was, as the human say, cut from the same cloth. But he couldn’t be, everything Heatwave had seen from the Seeker since his crash on the island directly conflicted with what the youngling had learned of the Decepticons. It just made him confused and left his spark aching.

The Seeker in question was silent, observing for a moment before he dipped his head. “I have. I have done many, many terrible things. I never killed sparklings or younglings, but I have killed countless Autobot soldiers and slain more than a few Neutral civilians on Megatron’s command.” He said softly. “I have aided in the stripping and destruction of planets, and I have directly contributed to the death of our homeworld. I do not deny any of this. I am not trying to escape my past, Heatwave, or to deny the crimes and atrocities I have committed.”

“Then why did you do them? Why are you here? Why should we let you stay if you’ve done all of that?” He didn’t actually want Dreadwing to leave, and the knew the others would want him to either. But he had just admitted to having committed horrible acts. Heatwave didn’t know what to think.

If the harsh questions bothered him, Dreadwing didn’t show it. “I did what I did because, at the time, I believed I was in the right. You know how Cybertron was in the Golden Age. You know of the emurata, of Functionism, of the caste system and how it was structured. Don’t tell me you don’t.” he said. “I rose from a system that sought to oppress me, and I turned to the only option I saw at the time. The Decepticons. It was wrong, and I have come to realize that.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “I am here because I have little elsewhere I can go, and because I find myself growing fond of this place. I am here because Primus has granted me a second chance, an opportunity to do better and to be better, and I intend to take it.” Dreadwing took an extra moment to consider the last question. “You likely should not.” he answered. “I cannot change what I have done, all I can do it try to make amends and hope to find redemption one day.” He met the youngling’s gaze evenly. “But I would like to stay, if you would allow me the chance to pursue something better here.”

Heatwave held his gaze, then sagged and looked away. “Fine. I don’t even want you to leave anyway.” he sounded tired. “I won’t make you go. I don’t think I could. The others like you, and so do I. It’d just do more harm than good to everyone involved if I made you leave now.” he glanced up. “Just…tell me why. Why did the Decepticons do all of that? I don’t understand.” he sounded frustrated and helpless.

Dreadwing softened, his wings dipping down just slightly as his frame relaxed. “The Decepticons did not rise from nothing, little one.” he rumbled.

“What do you mean? The data pads said Megatron came out of nowhere and built them up before anyone realized what was going on.” He said, his anger abating in face of his even more confusion.

Dreadwing scoffed. “I am certain that many Autobot’s believe that.” his lips curled faintly, displeased. “That is, however, as far from the truth as you can get.”

“Then why would Autobot data pads contain that information as if it were fact?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

The Seeker hummed, tilting his head. “Perhaps, if you wish to have this discussion in its entirety, it would be best to sit somewhere?”

Heatwave paused, then nodded. “Lounge.” he said gruffly, leading the way. Once there, he dragged over a beanbag chair and settled into it comfortably, leaving the couch to the former Decepticon.

“To begin, I must ask how much you know about the Autobots and Decepticons as a whole, as well as how much you know and understand the political and social climate of the Golden Age.” Dreadwing stated.

Heatwave frowned. “I know what you told us when you first arrived.” he said, tilting his head. “I also know that the Autobot’s end goal is the restoration of Cybertron and the revival of our race. I know the Decepticons want to take control and lead Cybertron by force, and that their end goal is to put ‘Cons in charge and remove lots of freedom from bots under their rule.” he said. He crossed his arms, staring at a point on the floor as he tried to think. “I know that the Senate used to rule Cybertron during the Golden Age, and that they weren’t very fair and a lot of bots suffered, and that some of their regulations and punishments were extreme.” he tilted his head. “I know the caste system made the bots in the lower castes struggle a lot.” he seemed almost ashamed at this point. “I….I never paid the most attention to that, though. I was in the upper-middle caste, and my Function was something I already wanted to do.”

“Rescue work.” Dreadwing guessed.

The firetruck nodded. “Yeah.” he admitted.

“Then you know much of the very basics, though your knowledge lacks in the complexity and finer details of the full scope of the situation.” he rumbled. “You are correct. The Autobots fight for a restored Cybertron. But your knowledge of the Decepticons is…not entirely accurate.”

Heatwave’s engine growled with displeasure as he just grew more helplessly confused. “What?”

“The Decepticons do seek control, and they do seek to rule over Cybertron. That is true. It is also true that their goal is to see to the destruction of the Autobots. But it wasn’t always so.”

“Yeah, you mentioned they started as a social revolution.” Heatwave said, starting to calm down once he realized he’d be getting his answers, and without all the vagueness that came from Optimus whenever he tried to ask the Prime about the War.

“They did. But Megatron not rise from nothing, as the Autobots are so fond of believing. He rose from foundations that were already very deeply rooted. Functionism was a plague and the caste system was a rot that had sunk deep into the very core of our world.” he said, voice soft and somber. “It was a rot that infected only the oppressed and the beaten; it affected the lower castes and the undesirables, and those who lived comfortably in the higher castes did not feel the affects of it.”

“Undesirables?” Heatwave echoed, confused.

“Bots who did not fit into the world the Senate wished to portray. They wanted a Cybertron where every bot had a singular Function and operated according to that Function and ONLY according to that Function. They wanted a world where all those who were not of the Senate were subservient to them and obeyed them without question. They wanted a world that operated under the beliefs and celebrations and social structure they approved of. Those who did not fit into that world, and who could not fit into that world, were deemed undesirable.” He cast the youngling a meaningful look. “For the Senate, that included flight-frames. It is why they were so eager to see the spread of anti-flyer sentiments, to confine flyers, whether they were Seekers or not, to a single city. Flight-frames have a different base coding to ground-frames, and the Senate were all ground-frames. In their optics, flight-frames were a danger to their rule because flyers, by the nature of our frames, do not fit seamlessly into a Functionist society.” he paused. “It certainly did not help that the social structure, belief system, and cultural behavior of flight-frames was radically different to that of ground-frames, and that it was radically different to what the Senate was trying to enforce.”

Heatwave was silent for a long moment, considering what he was told. “But…you said the caste system was a rot. What did you mean?”

Dreadwing hummed, his fingers tapping a pattern on the couch; it was a very human gesture, one he had picked up from the Burnses without even realizing it. He had to word this carefully. Not because he wanted to manipulate the younger bot, but because it was a complex situation and a rather unpleasant one. “You said we’re were of the upper-middle caste.” he said carefully. “And that fits with your frame type and your Function. But have you never thought about the types of bots that fill each level of the caste system?” he asked.

Heatwave furrowed his optical ridges, shaking his helm. “No…” he said slowly. “I know…I know artists were considered among the lowest tier of the high castes. I know scientists and medics were high caste, and that the only bots above them were politicians.” he said.

Dreadwing smiled faintly. The young bot was starting to understand on his own. “Indeed. But those bots only made up a minority of Cybertron’s population. What of the others? What of the common laborers?”

“You mean, like, cleaners and construction bots? You’re right, they were more common than scientists, medics, or artists.” he said. “Like Boulder. He was originally a construction bot.”

He nodded. “They were indeed more common. But what caste did the Senate assign to them?”

“The…the lower caste.” Understanding was starting to bloom in Heatwave’s optics. “The lowest caste, for most of the laborer frames.” he realized. “That means…Boulder was from the lower castes.”

Dreadwing hummed agreement. “He was. If you wish to know more, then you shall have to ask him yourself. It is not my place to tell you what he experienced.” He sighed heavily. “But I will tell you that the lower castes, the bots who made up the majority of our people, did not often lead pleasant lives. They received little pay for their work, could not often afford decent fuel, if they could afford any fuel, and most of their pay would have to go to maintaining their living space. It oft left them overtired, overworked, and very, very hungry. It did not help that many of them had dangerous Functions, dangerous jobs, and after paying for their living quarters and fuel, they did not have the shanix for medical care. It meant the lower castes were forced to choose between their need for fuel and their health.”

Heatwave swallowed, his optics blown wide. “Oh.” he whispered. “But…why didn’t they do anything?”

Dreadwing looked almost melancholic at his question. “Most of the lower castes simply did not have the time or energy to fight against it. They were too tired, too hungry, to injured or sick, and were forced to focus purely on their own survival.” he stated. “And those few that did try to speak up…” he trailed off. “The Senate was not kind to dissenters, little one. If they did not use empurata on those who protested their systems, they used other means of punishment and silencing.” his tone was grim.

Heatwave chose not to ask what those “other means” were. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “It…it was really that bad?”

The Seeker bowed his helm. “Ask Boulder or Blades. They would know the best of your teammates.” Though, he had his suspicions about the means of Chase’s creation, and if he was right then the police bot might also know how bad the Senate could be.

“Boulder, I get. But why Blades?”

“The little flyer once told me that one of his brothers was a flight-frame. He would not have experienced the cruelty directly, as he was a ground-frame on Cybertron, but he would doubtless have experienced or seen it through his brother.”

“Oh.” Heatwave was starting to get the feeling that he didn’t know as much about his team as he thought he did. He really needed to fix that. “I guess I understand why the Decepticons rose to quickly then, if things were really that bad for so long.”

“Indeed.” Dreadwing agreed. “But there is one more thing you must understand.”

“Which is?” Heatwave was feeling a little sick to his tanks. He hadn’t been aware the situation on Cybertron had been so bad, but then again, he’d lived a good life. He’d had all the fuel he needed, he never worried about his health or safety, his living situation was pretty much always assured, and he actually enjoyed working according to his Function. He wouldn’t have experienced the rot Dreadwing mentioned, so it only made sense he wasn’t entirely aware of it. That didn’t get rid of the guilt, though.

“The Decepticons are made up almost entirely of flight-frames and those of lower castes. There are certainly some of those among Autobot forces, but the grand majority of them are Decepticon.” Dreadwing pinned Heatwave under a severe look. “What does that tell you, little one?”

“It tells me that the Autobots are mostly ground-frames and bots from the middle and upper castes.” he answered, suddenly understanding the War in a whole new light. It certainly didn’t excuse what the Decepticons had done, but now this…this made it a lot easier to understand.

“Indeed.” he agreed. “The Decepticons originally rose on the backs of bots who were beaten down and had little else to lose, bots whose only crime was to want a better life.” he said. “When the Senate, and later the original Autobots before Optimus Prime, attempted to beat them back down to their “proper place”, they fought back for the freedom that should have always been theirs.” His gaze went distant, as if remembering something from long ago. “The Decepticons were originally a freedom movement, little one. It was only as time wore on and the spilled energon between the factions soured that they lost their way and forget their original mission.”

“And now?”

“Now, because so many Autobots are ground-frame or originated from the higher castes, they do not understand why their enemy continue to fight. Certainly, many Decepticons fight because they wish to destroy the Autobots, but there are many, many more who only fight because they fear that an Autobot victory means a return to the ways of the Golden Age. It is something that Prime and his bots simply do not, and perhaps never will, understand.”

“So most of the Autobots…they weren’t bots who were hurt by the Senate.”

“No.” Dreadwing agreed. “Prime’s team on Earth is a good example. Prime himself is formerly of the lower-high caste, as he was a former Archivist. His scout was upper-middle caste, and while he was too young to receive his Function at the start of the War he would very easily have made a successful racer. The femme-bot was an Enforcer, also considered upper-middle caste. And of course, the medic. Ratchet was famed, even before the War.” The Seeker smiled sardonically. “He was quite firmly in the highest castes. All of them operated according to their Function, and all of them were content with it.” He tilted his head. “The only bot on Prime’s own team who does not fit that mold is his Wrecker, who was once a construction bot. He is the only one who might truly understand.”

Heatwave nodded, looking own at his lap. “I think I get it now. This war…it’s not going to end until the Autobots understand that stuff, is it? Because they won’t understand why most of the Decepticons keep fighting, why they started fighting in the first place.” he said, looking up to meet red optics.

“Yes. You’re very intelligent, little one. You learn fast.” Dreadwing slumped slightly, releasing a heavy vent. “You are correct. So long as the Autobots do not understand, then the Decepticons, at least those who only fight out of a fear of a return to the old ways, will never stop what they are doing.”

“You really know a lot about this stuff.”

“I am a Seeker, Heatwave. I experienced much of the Senate’s cruelty directly, as did most of my frame-kin.”

The Rescue Bot nodded, subdued. Now he understood. A part of him wished he didn’t, but he was glad he did. He sighed, meeting Dreadwing’s gaze again. “I think I owe you an apology, then. I judged you based on incomplete information.”

Dreadwing bowed his helm. “Thank you, little one. As I said, I certainly committed horrible acts, and I can never undo what I have done, but now I only make to make amends as I move forward.”

Heatwave nodded, smirking and straightening up. “I think you can. And lucky for you, we’re here to help.” he said.

Dreadwing blinked, before he chuckled, his wings lifting as the mood brightened. “So you are. Thank you, youngling.”

“We’re Rescue Bots.” Heatwave grinned. “Helping others is what we do.”

“So it is.” He agreed, looking amused. “And perhaps, I can also help you?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Me? How?”

“I have noticed you practicing with your sparring post. Your form is acceptable, and I am aware that the Rescue Force trained its Teams to have combat abilities, but I can help you improve. Your current skills will help you fight if a rescue mission were to go wrong, but if you wish, then I can help expand and improve your combat capability even beyond that.”

Heatwave blinked. “You’ll teach me how to fight.” he stated.

“I would be glad to, if you wish to learn. There may come a day when you must fight a true enemy, and if that day comes then greater combat skill may be helpful.” Dreadwing pointed out.

Heatwave narrowed his optics, considering the unsaid implications of that statement. “…you think the War might come to us.”

“Perhaps.” he said grimly. “I pray that it does not, but in the event it does I think it is better that you are prepared to fight against an enemy who truly wishes to see your spark go out.”

He nodded, gaze firming. The others would need lessons too, in that case. The Rescue Force did teach them all basic combat, in the event that they needed to fight off anything that might be threatening whoever or whatever they were rescuing, but their combat training had been pretty basic. If Dreadwing was right, and there was a possibility of Sigma-17 one day facing an opponent that wanted them dead, then they’d need to shape up. He stood, hands curling into fists as his shoulders lifted and determination burned in his spark. He stared the Seeker in the optics.

“Let’s do it.”

Dreadwing stood, a faint smile curling at his lips, and clapped a hand on the youngling’s shoulder. “I look forward to it.” he said, a hint of pride in his tone. Heatwave was so very young, but already he was shaping up to be a fine mech, a fine leader.

Heatwave himself only grinned, blue optics bright. “So do I.”

He’d learned a lot today. Not all of it had been pleasant, and a distinctly unpleasant feeling still curled in his tanks, but he was glad to learn what he had. The past was dark and violent, he’d come to realize. Cybertron’s history was steeped in shadows and darkness and Heatwave was certain that he still didn’t know everything, that Dreadwing had certainly omitted many of the worst of the details. Given all that, he really couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised that the War had happened.

Now though, wasn’t the time to focus on the past. Not Cybertron’s past, and not on Dreadwing’s past either. He tilted his helm up to turn his grin on the larger bot, leaning his weight into the hand on his shoulder and enjoying the small physical contact. Yes, he decided. Dreadwing’s past didn’t matter, not here. All that mattered was what was to come, and Heatwave was determined to meet whatever the future held for them head on.

For himself, and for his newfound family — all of them, even its newest addition.

———————————————————————————————————

Here it is, folks! The next installment in “of moments in life”! This one goes a little deeper into Pre-War Cybertron’s social/political climate. Heatwave got a massive reality check. He was sorta privileged, by the standards of the Golden Age, and he’s being forced to realize what that meant and what it blinded him to. Poor youngling, his entire worldview just got rocked.

As for Dreadwing, he now has another son! The next installment will be tHe Blades and Dreadwing one. It’s gonna be sad. They’re gonna talk about their brothers. That’s all I’ll say! I have prompts fo write for before I can get to it, so it’ll be a bit, but stay tuned, it’ll come out! Anyway, hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts!

Until next time, folks!

[katsukisbayy]

The Wrong One (Eijirou Kirishima x Female Reader)

Hi all! This is my contribution to the BNHArem servers villain/hero swap! Special thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku for listening to me vent about this piece!

This is the masterlist for the collab! Go check out everone else’s work!

Warnings: slight cussing, reader is pregnant, Kirishima slits someone’s throat

No beta read cause this was due Saturday and I literally just finished it so if there’s typos, my bad.

Word Count; 3,620

“Ms. Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Ever since those words were spoken to you in front of your boyfriend, one of the most notorious underground villains since UA collapsed, you were constantly followed. Whether it was by your boyfriend Eijirou, his best friends Bakugou and Kaminari, or one of the underlings who followed those three around you were never alone. Except for this particular moment when a massive job had been thrown their way. 

“We’ll be gone for less than a day Y/N, don’t leave the house. Don’t answer the door, don’t answer the phone for anyone other than me, Kaminari or Bakugou. Only those who need to know know that we’re leaving to do this job. Do not, for the love of god, do anything that could hurt you or our daughter okay?” Eijiro sighed, pulling you into a hug and resting his head atop yours. 

“Ei, I know the drill. Whether you like it or not, I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been with you three long enough to know how to kill someone if I need to. We will be fine.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you a moment longer before removing his arms from around you, kissing you softly, and walking out the door. He called out “Love you!” as the door swung shut. You glanced around your apartment, debating on cleaning the damn near spotless living room before deciding to watch a movie instead. You put on your favorite, grabbed a blanket, and laid down on the couch. Mind wandering to what the boys were doing, you barely paid attention to the movie before sleep found you not even twenty minutes later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijirou Kirishima was 6’2 on a bad day, 280 pounds of pure muscle and extremely lethal to everyone but you and his two best friends. He and Bakugou tried their hardest to keep you out of that part of their lives, especially now with you pregnant, but you’d caught glimpses into just how lethal the three of them were. You’d seen Kirishima nearly behead a man using his quirk, and Bakugou AP shot a person’s head off. Kaminari had electrocuted someone to the point where it smelled like seared flesh for three days afterwards, maybe longer. Not many people, villain or hero, wanted to mess with your three boys. But some people are just stupid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud noise from right outside the apartment door jolted you out of your sleep. Pulling your phone off the coffee table, you checked the time. 6:35pm. There was no way the boys were back yet, and you knew that anyone else would’ve called before coming over. This was bad. Quickly, you shoved your phone into your sweatpants and ran to your bedroom. As soon as your foot crossed the threshold, the front door slammed open.

“What the fuck Tsukasa? Did you need to kick the door in?” A man’s voice yelled out.

“Did you want to get into the apartment or not?” another voice, Tsukasa you assumed, responded.

“We could’ve used a credit card to get in. That normally works for me and DOESN’T ALERT THE WHOLE DAMN NEIGHBORHOOD!” You heard rustling and assumed that the men had made it into the apartment. Making your way to the closet which had a hidden door in case something like this happened, you slid the fake panel out of the way and shimmied inside before sliding it back like nothing had happened. 

Your phone was still tucked into the pocket of your pants. You knew you had to call Eijirou, or at least Kaminari because if Eijirou didn’t answer that meant Bakugou wouldn’t either. Sliding it out and unlocking it was as far as you got before you heard the men come into the bedroom. Your breath caught in your throat and you hesitated, debating on not moving or breathing until they left the bedroom and you could call someone to help you. As you move to put your phone back into your pocket, your ringtone alerting the men to your presence. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” You mumble under your breath, quickly moving to decline the incoming call. Kirishima’s name popped up on your phone screen, more than likely wanting to let you know that they were on their way home and to check on you and your daughter. You declined the call and shoved your phone into your pocket before crouching into a corner as far away from the panel as possible. 

“Find where they are now.” Tsukasa said calmly. The door to the closet slammed open and clothes were shoved around as they tried to find you. You hoped that they wouldn’t notice the false panel in the back of the closet. Those hopes were dashed as you felt a hand clamp onto your ankle and drag you out. Your hands scrambled around for the bat hidden in your closet and finally closed on its handle. Taking a deep breath, you swung the bat as hard as you could against your captor. The sound of metal hitting could be heard and you hoped you’d swung hard enough to do some damage. 

Pain radiated through your cheek and it took a few moments to realize you had been slapped.

“Stupid bitch. You thought you could hide didn’t ya?” A tall, dark haired man chuckled.

“Easy for you to say Kizuki, you did not get hit with a bat.” The other man was stocky and tall, with long dark brown hair glared at you. 

“What do you think Tsukasa, should we kill her or keep her?” One of the men, Kizuki, asked his partner.

“She may be useful. And if not, we can dispose of her later.” Tsukasa responded.

You reached for the bat again, hoping to strike them when they were distracted, but it was taken from your hands just as fast as you had reached for it. 

“No, no. You’re not pulling that again. Go to sleep, little bitch. You’re in for a rude awakening when you wake.” 

The last thing you saw was a fist flying towards your face before the world turned black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirishima tried your number for the fifth time since leaving the job.You hardly ever declined his calls after jobs, wanting to make sure the three of them were fine and wanting to know the exact moment they would be home so you could have the first aid kits out and ready. If you ever did decline, you would always shoot him a text letting him know why. That didn’t happen this time, and he had a bad feeling settling into his stomach. He clicked away from the phone app, clicking Find My Friends instead. Thankfulness settled over him that he had talked you into downloading it shortly into your relationship so he could make sure nothing happened to you while you were out or for instances like this. 

“Shit.” He muttered, noticing that your phone didn’t pop up onto the screen, just a Last known location popping up. 

“Guys we might have a problem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain was the first thing you felt before slowly cracking your eyes open. Well, eye. Your right one was swollen shut. You tried to rub your face and noticed that your hands were tied behind your back and to a chair. Surveying where you were the best you could with one eye, you noticed you were in a bare room with nothing in it except a light, a table with an ashtray, and another chair across from where you were sitting. Your head was throbbing.

“Well, well. Look who’s awake.” Kizuki stated as he walked into the room and sat across from you. A cigarette hung from his lips, ashes falling onto the floor. 

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you just kill me when you saw someone was home?” You glared at the man, subtly eyeing him up and down. He was tall, not as stocky as your boyfriend, and you’d yet to see him use his quirk. Eijirou will still take him down in about two seconds. He was in for a rude awakening when Kirishima arrived. It was basically a death sentence for anyone who messed with you before, but now that you were pregnant with his child he was extremely overprotective.

“Why else would I keep a beautiful woman alive? There’s too many men around here. None of us can unwind after a long day and we needed someone to take care of us sweet cheeks. That’s where you come in. Now, you can either agree and this can be the start of a wonderful partnership, or you can fight back and I can give you some scars on that pretty little body.” He chuckles, standing from his chair before caressing the side of your face.

A slow smile spread across your features. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” You asked sweetly.

“Why would I? You’re nobody important in the hero world that I know of, and someone living where you do had to know something like this could happen. You don’t exactly live in the best area.” He smirked at you.

“Did you ever think there was a reason why someone like me was living there? Like maybe I had connections to villains and not heroes?” You saw his face go white for a split second before he regained his composure. He removed his hand from your face and slid it into his pocket.

“Why would I care if you had ties to the villains? Besides, you couldn’t have been that important to them if they left you there all by yourself.” 

“Have you ever heard of Red Riot? Maybe Dynamight or Chargebolt?” You noticed the minute the dots connected in his head. 

“No, there’s no fucking way. I would know if any of them had a bitch.” Kizuki sputtered.

“Yeah, no you wouldn’t. Riot’s really good at keeping me hidden from the world. Especially when he has Dynamight and Chargebolt helping to keep me hidden.” You chuckled seeing the color drain from his face. He knows they’re in trouble now. Hopefully Tsukasa is here too so Eijirou can kill them both and we can move without anyone knowing about me and the baby.

Kizuki opened his mouth to say something before shutting it tightly and walking out of the room. You sighed, collapsing in on yourself slightly. Exhaustion settled over you like a heavy blanket. Eijirou where are you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days had passed and you were still tied to the same chair. The only times you were allowed to be untied was when you had to use the bathroom. Kizuki or Tsukasa fed you, and as far as you could tell they were the only two in this area with you. You were unsure if it was a house, apartment, or just some random building that they were using as a base for the time being. Kizuki had alerted Tsukasa that you were “property of Red Riot” as he had worded it, and neither one of them spoke to you unless it was absolutely necessary. You were going crazy.

“Can’t you guys just let me go? I won’t tell Riot that I know who kidnapped me. I’ll tell him that I never saw anyone, my head was constantly covered. You can let me go in some alleyway and I’ll find my way home.” You plead for what felt like the thousandth time.

Tsukasa let out a low grunt and shook his head. Knowing that was all you’d get from him, you turned your attention to the TV they had brought in for you while they tried to figure out where to go from there.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

It was safe to say that Eijirou knew you were gone, and you knew that he would tear down every building in the city until he knew that you were safe in his arms. The crime toll had risen drastically in the last few days and you could tell what of the damage shown was Eijirou, Bakugou and Kaminari. The buildings and areas destroyed by the three of them were always left collapsed and on fire, with the power grid having been overloaded right before the attacks. Eijirou was looking for his girls and it was only a matter of time before he got to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten days after your abduction Kizuki ran into the room looking terrified. 

“I passed someone on the street saying that Red Riot was in the area. We have to lea-” A loud explosion cut him off and threw him against the wall. Small slices of pain spread across your body as debris hit you. Smoke filled the room, blocking your vision and making you cough. Groaning filled the small space as Kizuki tried to move. A blonde headed figure flew across the room and picked him up by the throat.

“You think it was smart to take one of the most feared villains girl? Do you have a death wish stupid fuck?” Bakugou’s voice growled out. Relief flooded your senses. Eijirou had finally found you, now he just had to get to you.

“I-I-I didn’t know! We had just picked an apartment to ransack and she happened to be there! I didn’t know she was Riot’s girl, please don’t kill me!” Kizuki had tears streaming down his face as Bakugou pressed into his throat tighter.

“Where. The fuck. Is she?” A more familiar voice called out. The calmness in his voice was terrifying. You had never heard him talk like that, and it both turned you on and terrified you. 

“Ei! I’m right here.” You called out, trying once again to break the rope holding your hands behind your back. You felt wind fill the room, clearing the smoke in a split second. Rage overtook Kirishima’s face as he took in your disheveled state. Your black eye, though fading, was still prominent on your face. Bruises and dried blood were covering your wrists from trying to break your restraints, and you looked almost emaciated from ten days with little food. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly before he rushed to your side. He quickly cut the ropes from your wrist with his quirk, careful to not cut you while doing so.

“It’s okay baby. I’m here now okay? I’m gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna go home I promise. I just have to take care of a few things first. Can you go through the hole Bakugou made and go out there with Kami?” Kirishima asked. He slowly rubbed his thumbs over your wrists and you relaxed, leaning your body weight against him. Ten days being tied to a chair and only being allowed to walk to the bathroom had taken its toll on you. Your legs were weak and Kirishima had to wrap his arm around your waist to help you up.

“Ei, I don’t think I can walk out there to him. Can’t you carry me?” You whined in his ear.

“No baby I can’t carry you. I have to find the other fucking idiot who decided it would be smart to kidnap my girls. I’ll yell for Kami to come grab you okay? And do not move from his side. I’ll be out as soon as I get done with these idiots.” Kirishima kissed your forehead and you wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“I don’t wanna leave you baby. Can’t I just stay here until you’re done with them? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and the baby can’t see yet anyway. Please don’t make me leave you. I went ten days not knowing if I’d see you again. Please don’t make me leave.” You whimpered. His arms tightened slightly around your waist. 

“Go sit back down okay? It won’t take long for me to take care of them.” He kissed you softly on the lips and helped you sit on the chair you’d been tied to five minutes ago. As soon as you sat down, a flip switched in Kirishima. 

“Where’s the other one?” He growled out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about man I’m the only one here. It was just me.” Kizuki gasped out. Bakugou’s hand was still pressed against his windpipe making it hard for him to breathe. Kirishima hardened his hand and slammed it into the wall next to Kizuki’s head making him yelp.

“I don’t like being lied to. I know there were two of you involved, now tell me where the fuck he is so I can kill you both and get on with my life.”

“You better do it man. We can make your death swift or painful and drawn out, it’s really up to you.” Bakugou shrugged casually. The sound of water hitting the floor hit your ears and you realized that Kizuki had pissed himself. 

“That’s disgusting. Shitty hair just kill him now, we can find the other one after.” 

Kirishima grabbed Kizuki by his hair and pushed him down to his knees. Hardening his arm again, he pressed it tightly against Kizuki’s neck before glancing up at you.

“Don’t watch princess.” He told you. You looked up at the ceiling before the sound of blood dripping and gagging hit your ears. A loud thump alerted you that you could look again. Kizuki’s body laid in a crumpled heap at the feet of your boyfriend and his best friend. Blood surrounded him, and you figured that Kirishima had used his quirk to slit the man’s throat. You sighed and cleared your throat.

“The other man’s name is Tsukasa. He’s the one who hit me and knocked me out when they came into the apartment. He’s in here somewhere, but I don’t know where. Eiji, please let Bakugou find him and let’s go home? It’s just those two. I’m positive he can take him on his own.” You begged. Bakugou shrugged. 

“I mean I can just demolish the place with him inside if you want me to shitty hair.”

“No. This dumbass hurt my girls, make him suffer.” Kirishima responded. Bakugou smiled and turned to search the rest of the building. Hands wrapped themselves around yours and Kirishima hoisted you up onto your feet. 

“Are you two okay?” He asked, his right hand grabbing both of yours and his left hand moving to rub your belly slightly. 

“As good as can be, I guess. I’m starving though, and I just want to go home and shower.” You sighed contently, wrapping your arms around your lover once more and leaning your head into his chest. 

“We’re not going home. We’re gonna go to a hotel, Kaminari and Bakugou are gonna grab anything you want and need from the apartment, and when you feel better we’re gonna go look at houses. I know it was just a fluke, but we need to make sure that no one else knows who you are or where you are. I can’t lose the two of you.” He glanced into your eyes and you noticed the unshed tears covering his. A massive explosion from somewhere within the building drew your attention away from each other. 

“Sounds like Bakugou got a hold of the other guy.” Kirishima chuckled. He knelt down slightly, grabbing the back of your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into it. 

“Oi, you two coming or are ya gonna wait for the police to get here?” Bakugou yelled out. You looked up at him, noticing his soot covered face and smiled. 

“Yeah yeah Blasty. Let’s get out of here.”