#Legitimately any form of commission would be good

[chaoticcutiewhirl]

Somethings Coming... And I want money to pay for it /Silly :3 0/5 slots filled

Okay feel free to send DMs or asks and I will DM you about a potential comm but simply to say... Mice Tea Felicia Plushie is coming and I need it so all I need is like just a more intricate full body commission with like a simple background given how much Margret was with shipping.

Also if you need more examples:

(Fun fact this one above is from art fight and is a character by the named Vespara owned by @Peachiheartz (Hi again :3)

Oh hey an OC owned by my best friend in the whole wide world Vee. She is on tumblr but I cannot for the life of me find her tumblr

Oh hey more art by me, anyway if you like my art style and want to commission, feel free to DM or send an ask and I will DM you- anyway off to me shilling in more places to try and get myself a Mice Tea Felicia Plushie and if I am successful more UTY plushies from a fan design thing, if anyone is wondering I will probably drop their shop if someone asks because I love them.

[robertreich]

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    

One man is especially to blame for why corporate power is out of control. And I knew him! He was my professor, then my boss. His name… Robert Bork.

Robert Bork was a notorious conservative who believed the only legitimate purpose of antitrust — that is, anti-monopoly — law is to lower prices for consumers, no matter how big corporations get. His philosophy came to dominate the federal courts and conservative economics.

I met him in 1971, when I took his antitrust class at Yale Law School. He was a large, imposing man, with a red beard and a perpetual scowl. He seemed impatient and bored with me and my classmates, who included Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham, as we challenged him repeatedly on his antitrust views.

We argued with Bork that ever-expanding corporations had too much power. Not only could they undercut rivals with lower prices and suppress wages, but they were using their spoils to influence our politics with campaign contributions. Wasn’t this cause for greater antitrust enforcement?

He had a retort for everything. Undercutting rival businesses with lower prices was a good thing because consumers like lower prices. Suppressing wages didn’t matter because employees are always free to find better jobs. He argued that courts could not possibly measure political power, so why should that matter?

Even in my mid-20s, I knew this was hogwash.

But Bork’s ideology began to spread. A few years after I took his class, he wrote a book called The Antitrust Paradox summarizing his ideas. The book heavily influenced Ronald Reagan and later helped form a basic tenet of Reaganomics — the bogus theory that says government should get out of the way and allow corporations to do as they please, including growing as big and powerful as they want.

Despite our law school sparring, Bork later gave me a job in the Department of Justice when he was solicitor general for Gerald Ford. Even though we didn’t agree on much, I enjoyed his wry sense of humor. I respected his intellect. Hell, I even came to like him.

Once President Reagan appointed Bork as an appeals court judge, his rulings further dismantled antitrust. And while his later Supreme Court nomination failed, his influence over the courts continued to grow.  

Bork’s legacy is the enormous corporate power we see today, whether it’s Ticketmaster and Live Nation consolidating control over live performances, Kroger and Albertsons dominating the grocery market, or Amazon, Google, and Meta taking over the tech world.

It’s not just these high-profile companies either: in most industries, a handful of companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

This corporate concentration costs the typical American household an estimated extra $5,000 per year. Companies have been able to jack up prices without losing customers to competitors because there is often no meaningful competition.

And huge corporations also have the power to suppress wages because workers have fewer employers from whom to get better jobs.

And how can we forget the massive flow of money these corporate giants are funneling into politics, rigging our democracy in their favor?

But the tide is beginning to turn under the Biden Administration. The Justice Department and Federal Trade Commission are fighting the monopolization of America in court, and proposing new merger guidelines to protect consumers, workers, and society.

It’s the implementation of the view that I and my law school classmates argued for back in the 1970s — one that sees corporate concentration as a problem that outweighs any theoretical benefits Bork claimed might exist.

Robert Bork would likely regard the Biden administration’s antitrust efforts with the same disdain he had for my arguments in his class all those years ago. But instead of a few outspoken law students, Bork’s philosophy is now being challenged by the full force of the federal government.

The public is waking up to the outsized power corporations wield over our economy and democracy. It’s about time.

[scotianostra]

On 17th December, James VI was baptised.

The ceremony was with "splendour such as had not been seen in Scotland since the days of the baby’s grandfather James V".

This was the only occasion during her personal rule that Mary raised taxation for expenditure outside the normal business of government – she was determined to show that her son was the legitimate heir to the crown of Scotland, and perhaps also to that of England.

There’s a couple of paragraphs from the history books describing the occasion, the first from “The life of Mary” reads:

In the chapel of Stirling castle, was the Prince baptised, on Tuesday, the 17th of December 1566. Every thing was done, at the solemnity, according to the form of the Roman Catholick church. The Prince was held up, at the font, by the Countess of Argyle, under a commission from Elizabeth, as her representative. And the Archbishop of St. Andrews did administer the baptism, with the usual ceremonies of the Roman church. Neither the Earl of Bedford, Elizabeth’s representative, nor any of the Scotish nobility of the new form, entered into the chapel, but stood, without the door. After the rites were all performed, the child’s name, and titles, were thrice proclaimed, by the heralds, under sound of trumpet, Charles James, James Charles. It was the Queen’s pleasure, as we learn, from Le Croc, that he should bear the name of James, as all the good kings of Scotland had the same name, and the name of Charles, being the name of the King of France. Then did the music begin; and after it had continued for some time, the Prince was again conveyed to his apartment. The Countess of Argyle, by thus representing the English Queen, at this ceremony, gave offence to the reformed church, and was obliged to do penance, for her sin. The reformed nobility, by standing, without the door, avoided this scandal. And Bedford, by imitating their example, cannot be said, to have been present at the ceremony, as Elizabeth’s gossip, though he had come so far, for the purpose of ceremony. Thus nearly allied to folly is fanaticism!

And this from , Reign of Mary, 1565-1567

Dec. 17 – The young prince was baptised at Stirling Castle, and named Charles James. The preparations in apparel and decorations were magnificent beyond everything of the kind hitherto known. ‘The said prince was borne out of his chalmer to the chapel by the French ambassador, my Lady of Argyle, cummer for the Queen of England by commission, and Monsieur La Croc for the Duke of Savoy. All the barons and gentlemen bore prickets of wax, wha stood in rank on ilk side, frae the prince’s chalmer door to the said chapel. Next the French ambassador, and great serge of wax by the Earl of Athole, the salt-vat by the Earl of Eglintoun, the cude by the Lord Semple, the basin and laver by the Lord Ross; and at the chapel door, the prince was receivit by my Lord Sanct Androis, with staff, mitre, cross, and the rest. The prince was baptisit in the said font’ [which was ‘twa stane wecht, of fine gold,’ a gift from Queen Elizabeth], ‘and their solemnities endit by near five hours afternoon.

With Mary producing an heir to the throne her life began to unravel, in February James’s father, Lord Darnley would be lying dead in Kirk o’ Field house in Edinburgh, a crime she may or may not have been involved with, in April she saw her son for the last time as events spiralled that month, she is said to have been abducted, either forcibly or willingly, by James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell and taken to Dunbar Castle. The pair travelled to Edinburgh together and are married in a Protestant ceremony in May, two months later she was forced to abdicate in favour of her son.

[renascinem]

[ Jade Hearts ]  Silence often reigned within the walls of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. It was natural, peaceful.

Today, there was something distinctly intentional about it, but Zhongli paid it no mind. With the Lantern Rite running rampant, spirits were high and the air itself had changed around them. Content with this assessment, he paused in the doorway where his desk waited, immaculate as ever.

…save the overflowing baskets of small, jade hearts stacked atop it.

He frowned reflexively, wondering why such things had any place in this establishment. The letter attached explained very little, though it did promise that the purchase of all hearts had been legitimate and donated in good spirits to the lantern fund. 'Maybe keep one, and then spread the love!'

The letter was unsigned. He sighed.

With the Lantern Rite in full swing, as a simple consultant he had not been commissioned for some time. If he darkened the halls of the funeral parlor of late, it was to read something he’d left behind for safe keeping. Now, he packed as many of the hearts (not even half) as would fit into his bag and returned to the vibrant streets of the city.

Odd as the gesture was, offering them to those who were willing to listen to a little history proved as effective a tool as any. Those from other worlds were best for this, as they were usually not alone in their travels. More hearts that could lighten the many that were still in his possession. He gifted no less than six to the man who wore jade as armor, appraising it as he said, “Despite the modern meaning of such gifts, it is still common to acknowledge affection between comrades, both old and new. For those you travel with to wish a Happy Lantern Rite.”

Though the Express Crew usually visited new places together, and this truthfully wasn't a real exception, sometimes it was nice to simply wander the streets alone and appreciate everything in his own way, and at his own pace. He enjoyed it, a lot more than he used to - Caelus' curiosity, March's unending photo-taking, Himeko's notes of wisdom and Mr. Yang's truly interesting commentary on customs or architecture - but every once in a while, it felt good to just slowly stroll along, look around, appreciate what he saw and heard around him, and... simply be.

He passed by children laughing as shopkeepers handed them candy and snacks, families getting together and preparing lanterns to release to the sky together, friends and acquaintances wishing each other a happy Lantern Rite and good fortune ahead. Though none of this was addressed to him, there was nevertheless a light smile on his face as he strolled by, allowing the warm atmosphere to wash over him as well.

At least, none of this was addressed to him until a tall man with a ponytail and a peculiar look in his eyes stopped before him, and spoke to him, gifting him some small tokens in the form of hearts crafted from jade.

He paused; it took him a second or two to truly realize the meaning of the gesture and process the situation, but once he did, he nodded in thanks, his smile widening.

"Thank you, sir. I hope you and those you cherish have a happy Lantern Rite as well."

The man must have figured out he was an outworlder, though given his outfit, it probably wasn't that hard, to be fair.

In any case, he now had some souvenirs to share with the rest of the Crew, and tokens of this world that they would carry into the stars once the time came for the Express to depart once again.

[lemonchickenwing]

I really love your art. You portray the emotions of characters very well. Your composition is also very pleasing.

If you ever consider doing commissions I'd be first in line for them! (Only if you wanted to do them of course, I know running commissions can be a busy process)

Thank you for such kind words, anon, you're really generous

I have been considering opening commissions for donations, if that's okay with you, you can commission me in this way. My DMs are open for this purpose as well

Since no one commissioned before, I am willing to do a sketch for 1 dollar I can even do a fully colored clean drawing but it'd be for a higher price. I may start working on a commission form for better information, but if you don't need this you can just DM me on tumblr

short information under cut:

- I can send my progress to you so that we can discuss if there are some mistakes in my W.I.P. before it is done

- Art references, though preferred, are not required

if the commission turns out bad, I can compensate with an extra sketch for you

I roughly estimate the time needed to complete the commission from 1 day to 1-2 weeks, depending on the complexity of your request.

Where can I donate?

A goodle doc with vetted gofundme links

The blog that has useful information regarding vetted fundme links 

The blog that has useful information regarding legitimate funds and scams

Or You can make a donation to other campaigns that you trust.

What and whom I can draw:

- Any fandom character (with references)

- OC

- A ship art ( including self-insert or an OC x canon ship)

- Platonic friendship art

- Suggestive art (up to discussion)

- Blood

I can even draw a small sketch comic (with 2-4 panels) if that's what you need

Things that will probably not turn out well:

- Overly detailed design and mecha

- High quality body anatomy (pecs and musces), I can't do that yet..

- Realism and portraits

- Cultural and traditional clothing

- backgrounds (I don't have good experience drawing backgrounds)

I won't draw:

- NSFW works

- Explicit gore (but blood and very mild gore is okay)

- Self harm art

- Hateful art (i.e. telling someone to kys even if it is in character)

- Political art

Prices (minimal amount of donation) :

Sketch (bust) / (full body) - 1 USD / 3 USD

Rough color bust / full body - 5 USD / 7 USD

the other types of commission I'm not sure would be desired but I can price them too

How to donate and send me proof:

(there is a guide on how to do it ; you can send me the screenshot of a donation in my DMs) Overall I should know it was you by the name of the fund and date of donation

I won't be fighting you nor denying you donated, I also won't accuse you if you accidentally donated to a scammer, it's not my job to police that, ill do the commission anyway

I have heard that for some funds it takes a long time to process the donation, (it could show up much later after you donate sometimes) I will keep that in mind too

[truck-fump]

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    One man is...

New Post has been published on https://robertreich.org/post/744315857923080192

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    One man is...

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    

One man is especially to blame for why corporate power is out of control. And I knew him! He was my professor, then my boss. His name… Robert Bork.

Robert Bork was a notorious conservative who believed the only legitimate purpose of antitrust — that is, anti-monopoly — law is to lower prices for consumers, no matter how big corporations get. His philosophy came to dominate the federal courts and conservative economics.

I met him in 1971, when I took his antitrust class at Yale Law School. He was a large, imposing man, with a red beard and a perpetual scowl. He seemed impatient and bored with me and my classmates, who included Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham, as we challenged him repeatedly on his antitrust views.

We argued with Bork that ever-expanding corporations had too much power. Not only could they undercut rivals with lower prices and suppress wages, but they were using their spoils to influence our politics with campaign contributions. Wasn’t this cause for greater antitrust enforcement?

He had a retort for everything. Undercutting rival businesses with lower prices was a good thing because consumers like lower prices. Suppressing wages didn’t matter because employees are always free to find better jobs. He argued that courts could not possibly measure political power, so why should that matter?

Even in my mid-20s, I knew this was hogwash.

But Bork’s ideology began to spread. A few years after I took his class, he wrote a book called The Antitrust Paradox summarizing his ideas. The book heavily influenced Ronald Reagan and later helped form a basic tenet of Reaganomics — the bogus theory that says government should get out of the way and allow corporations to do as they please, including growing as big and powerful as they want.

Despite our law school sparring, Bork later gave me a job in the Department of Justice when he was solicitor general for Gerald Ford. Even though we didn’t agree on much, I enjoyed his wry sense of humor. I respected his intellect. Hell, I even came to like him.

Once President Reagan appointed Bork as an appeals court judge, his rulings further dismantled antitrust. And while his later Supreme Court nomination failed, his influence over the courts continued to grow.  

Bork’s legacy is the enormous corporate power we see today, whether it’s Ticketmaster and Live Nation consolidating control over live performances, Kroger and Albertsons dominating the grocery market, or Amazon, Google, and Meta taking over the tech world.

It’s not just these high-profile companies either: in most industries, a handful of companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

This corporate concentration costs the typical American household an estimated extra $5,000 per year. Companies have been able to jack up prices without losing customers to competitors because there is often no meaningful competition.

And huge corporations also have the power to suppress wages because workers have fewer employers from whom to get better jobs.

And how can we forget the massive flow of money these corporate giants are funneling into politics, rigging our democracy in their favor?

But the tide is beginning to turn under the Biden Administration. The Justice Department and Federal Trade Commission are fighting the monopolization of America in court, and proposing new merger guidelines to protect consumers, workers, and society.

It’s the implementation of the view that I and my law school classmates argued for back in the 1970s — one that sees corporate concentration as a problem that outweighs any theoretical benefits Bork claimed might exist.

Robert Bork would likely regard the Biden administration’s antitrust efforts with the same disdain he had for my arguments in his class all those years ago. But instead of a few outspoken law students, Bork’s philosophy is now being challenged by the full force of the federal government.

The public is waking up to the outsized power corporations wield over our economy and democracy. It’s about time.

[trakaffsblog]

Expand your business with safe affiliate marketing

Introduction

In today's time, affiliate marketing is growing rapidly but for a reason. Affiliate marketing gives businesses an opportunity to increase their brand awareness in a massive way but it has its own challenges. In this blog post we will discuss how to use affiliate marketing for the growth and amelioration of your company.

Understanding safe affiliate marketing

Affiliate marketing is a great platform to enhance your brand visibility but remember it comes with pros and cons. It comes with inherent risks such as fraudulent activities, brand misrepresentation and repetitional damage. Safe affiliate marketing is about minimising these kind of risks and protecting your company from any kind of damage.

1) Thorough affiliate vetting 

Before partnering with a particular affiliate, proper vetting should be done. You need to be very careful who you are teaming up with, conduct thorough research into their online presence, marketing practices and audience demographics. You need to make sure they align with your brand values and have legitimate promotional methods.

2) Clear affiliate guidelines and policies

You need to form clear guidelines and policies with the affiliates in terms of what the content standard would be, the do's and don'ts, ethical practices etc. This helps in creating a transparent relationship with affiliates and prevents the affiliates from engaging in activities that harm your brand and its reputation.

3) Regular compliance audits 

You need to do a regular compliance audit to ensure that the affiliates are following the guidelines. You need to make sure that your brand image is always safe and protected.

4) Secure tracking and attribution

You need to regularly track the affiliate activities to measure the performance of each affiliate and see to it who needs to be rewarded for their good performance and who needs to be told to improve. This will eventually have a huge impact on your overall business.

5) Transparent communication

There should be clear communication with the affiliates in terms of what is expected from them, what are their objectives and what brand values they need to keep in mind. You need to encourage affiliates to reach out if they have any questions and concerns 

Tips for success in safe affiliate marketing 

1) Align affiliate selection with brand values 

Choosing the right affiliates is very important because they will eventually represent your brand. You need to select the affiliate who align with your brand values and whose way of working goes by your brand image.

2) Educate affiliates on brand voice and messaging

You need to clearly educate the affiliate about the brand voice and messaging. They should have a very clear idea in terms of how they have to represent the brand and how they have to communicate with the audience. This is important to avoid any misinterpretations or inconsistency.

3) Prioritise quality over quantity 

It is better to have a few people working for you as affiliates who understand and represent your brand in a good way rather than having a bunch of affiliates who understand nothing about your brand. Quality is better than quantity in this case.

4) Offer competitive and fair commission

Fair and competitive commission structures encourage the affiliates to perform better. This motivates them to invest their time and energy into promoting your products and services ethically.

5) Utilise affiliate marketing platforms with security features

It is imperative to choose affiliate marketing platforms with good security attributes. it should have features like fraud detection, secure payment processing and advanced tracking capabilities. This helps in eliminating common risks associated with affiliate marketing.

6) Regularly update affiliate policies

The digital landscape evolves rapidly and along with it your affiliate policies should also evolve. You need to keep your affiliates updated about the changes in your policies, so that they can go about accordingly.

7)  Maintain a responsive and supportive relationship

It is extremely important to maintain cordial and responsive relationships with affiliates. Their queries should be properly answered and should be given full support while practicing affiliate marketing.

Benefits of safe affiliate marketing

Protecting brand reputation

Safe affiliate marketing ensures that you maintain a good brand image. By implementing strict guidelines, conducting regular audits prioritising ethical practices you minimise the risk of chances of any damage to your brand reputation.

Building trust with consumers

When you practice affiliate marketing in an ethical way it builds trust among the consumers. This makes them loyal towards the brand and helps in building a faithful audience towards the brand.

Long term partnerships with affiliates 

Affiliates operating in a safe and ethical manner, most probably end up forming a long term partnership with your brand. When you have a stable and committed affiliate base your marketing functions in an efficient way which leads to sustained growth and success over time.

Conclusion

Affiliate marketing is a powerful tool through which you can enhance your brand presence, however, it is extremely important to ensure that it is safe and secure. Affiliate marketing can help you expand your business tremendously if implemented correctly. So, explore the world of affiliate marketing and take your business to the next level.

[quartzroolz]

Fuck it Rider run through rankings

welp, this is it. My magnum opus. Back in 2023, I decided it was a great idea to watch through every Heisei kamen rider season and keep this post as a little tribute to my journey. well, that fell apart, because I eventually decided that "oh, 25+ years of karate bugman isn't enough, let shoot for the full 50+". so this is it. my opinions on every season of kamen rider, ever, without exceptions, updated as I finish seasons. Original Description: OK so, I have decided to go through kamen rider from start of heisei to end of heisei, in order. Kuuga to Zi-O. And I already Regret it but here goes a long form attempt at consolidating my feelings on this stupid fucking franchise. Currently Watching: Showa: 1971 (part 3: Ichigo again) [ON HIATUS TO CURE BURNOUT] Heisei: Wizard [ALSO ON HAITUS, I NEED TO WATCH OTHER FUCKING TV SHOWS] Reiwa: Gavv

KAMEN RIDER (1971) EPISODE 1-13

Here it is. the one that started it all. so In part for digestibility (the original kamen rider series is 98 episodes long) and in part because of factors I will doubtless get into, I have made the decision to tackle 1971 as multiple parts. the main reason, aside from aforementioned digestibility, is that 1971 changes a lot over those nearly 100 episodes.

as it stands, episodes 1-13 are the bits of kamen rider which everyone who has watched the original series agree are great. this is because, put simply, its what the show was meant to be. those 13 episodes are the purest version of Shotaro Ishinomoris' vision for the character and the world.

And... yeah its really good. Like its shocking how good the series is off the bat, for something 50 years old at this point. The action is fun and mostly well filmed, and the sometimes herky-jerky techniques employed to sell the super-heroics really work. Its also really violent. like its still a "kids show", I don't think I would be worried about younger people watching it even now, but like... people die pretty frequently and in a few cases quite gruesomely. The extent of how horrific it can be is undercut by the interesting and creative ways by how its chosen to be depicted but like... there are man-eating scorpions in this show that disintegrate people and its legitimately pretty horrific, especially when put into the mindset and context of 1971 in japan.

thematically its on point too. so much of these episodes go to hongo dealing with the loss of humanity in his transformation into a cyborg. its genuinely effective and evocative. the tragedy of hurting a child when he goes to comfort them cannot be overstated.

maybe the one factor I think is potentially lacking is costume design on the Kaijin, but I also acknowledge that we have been spoiled by modern techniques in that regard. for the time, most of them are pretty good and evocative with this designs. only really weak links are in the last couple episodes, especially Tokageron who is so clearly a case of "we need another episode to fill time, heres a half finished costume".

and... yeah, as to why they needed that extra episode and why I am only doing the first 13 episodes here and splitting 1971 into multiple parts. during these first 13 episodes, Hiroshi Fujioka, the actor playing Takeshi Hongo, was doing his own stunts, both in and out of the kamen rider suit. however, during filming for... probably episode 11 but I dont know if there is any conformation on that, a bad motorcycle accident took fujioka out of commission for an extended amount of time. episodes 11, 12 and 13 where completed using a combination of reused footage, and Takeshi Hongo doesnt even appear in person until the closing shots in 12 and 13. behind the scenes, this was taken as an oppertunity to heavily rework the show as well, as Kamen rider had been receiving complaints from parents on the content, which lead to changes in the next batch of episodes, 14-51, and overall the rest of the franchise moving forward.

overall... I mean its got to be a 9/10 on this doesn't it? its the purest, most unrefined version of an IP I love. its the bit that gets remade every time they decide to remake Ichigo. its the bit that The First and Shin draw on the most directly, and its probably the most foundational part of so much of the Henshin hero genre. and most importantly, ITS STILL GOOD. it is still worth watching, still worth checking out.

KAMEN RIDER (1971) EPISODE 14-52

it took me a while to complete this batch of episodes because, while 1971 is still good and Takeshi Sasaki as Hayato Ichimonji is a great replacement for Hiroshi Fujioka as Takeshi Hongo... but its also where kamen rider starts to drag a little. Like this show has 98 episodes and no over-arching stories. some more modern seasons, with only 50 episodes and more long-term storytelling suffer from dragging and being slow, and 1971 is double that.

like to be clear: its still really solid. this second batch of episodes goes lighter and funnier, introducing a larger supporting cast which includes a set of stupid idiot bimbo girls who hang around with Hayato and I love them so much, as well as Taki who is functionally 1971s secondary protagonist/rider, hanging around and helping out in more episodes than either of the actual leads combined. we get introduced to the Tachibana racing club as a location which serves as the origin for Home-bases in the franchise, which is fun. also, the monsters are pretty decent. theres less that specifically stick out in this batch, but as shockers plans grow ever more cartoony in-line with the new tone, the monsters get more interesting. in this batch we also get 2 main commander-type figures, being colonel Zol who I liked a lot and Dr. Shinigami who I do not as much. Like Shinigami has the Menace and gravitas but hes an old man with weird ill-defined powers who spends half of his time in a wheelchair.

finally, towards the end we get a few episodes with Hayato and Takeshi hanging out and fighting together and its always a lot of fun. the two have an undeniable chemistry and I love them a lot.

overall I think the second part of the series is fun but it lacks the weight of the early show and suffers for it. still highly recomend, but I would say its lesser overall than what came before.

KUUGA (2000)

kuuga is the best season of Kamen Rider I have seen. Its not my favourite, but its basically as close to "Objectivly perfect" as this dumb bugman franchise gets.

the characters are likable, the plot is well structured, Godai and Ichijou are gay as hell and I love it, The Mystery works really well, the action is well choriagraphed and outright brutal on occasion (y'all who have seen this show know exactly the occasion I am talking about), and it is paced really well.

if I have to compalin about anything, and I probably do, yeah forms are spaced out a bit weird and if your watching in the modern age the gurongi are subtitled which might hurt your experience somewhat (It didnt for me but I can see an argument).

9/10, amazing show.

AGITO (2001)

I would like to give a solemn Apology to the Agito stans: I don't like this show, and I honestly do not get why some people do. Yes, the suits are really cool with all of the mechanical stuff they can do, like Agitos horns or Gills mouth, etc. but as for the actual Plot itself... its painfully slow, the mystery aspect is boring and poorly executed, and the show meanders around for the majority of its run.

Shoichi regains his memories briefly midway through the show, just to basically imediatly lose them again, delaying any actual story progression even further. Ryo Spends 4 episodes (a month IRL time) dead in a river, and once again it really goes no-where.

Now I do like G3. I think its hilarious that the G3 Armour is literally in the wrong show. I like Hikawa (even if hes just Diet coke Ichijo from Kuuga) and I think that actually tying back the story of Agito to Kuuga is cool and something I wish rider would do more.

I also think the show picks up significantly once another Agito is introduced and the plot gets going. problem is at that point the majority of the season is already gone and potentially interesting character arcs and stories are speedran. whats there is good, I just wish it started earlier and lasted long.

3/10. sorry agito stans. glad you like this one, it aint for me.

Ryuki (2002)

Ryuki is the season of all time. its... kind of similar to agito, which is strange because I actually ended up liking this one. I think this works because its the first time Rider did a season where everyone, sans main Character Shinji Kide/Ryuki, is a massive prick, and that works because your going to see all of these characters die on screen so that helps soften the blow.

which is not to say that Ryuki suffers from unlikable characters, even the most detestable characters (exceptions of Gai and Ouja not withstanding) have moments which help humanise them.

pacing wise, yes, it kinda has the agito problem where the main plot happens all in one go right at the start and right at the end and the middle is mostly kinda filler, and I do think that if ryukis time had been used better we could have seen all 13 riders in the actual tv show, rather than relegating Femme, Ryuga and Verde to the Alternate ending movie, but its not a huge deal really.

also, the Mirror monsters almost certainly gave some japanese kids nightmares and I count that as a good thing. Mirror monsters, while their designs can be kinda so-so, are a wonderfully scary concept. Consider how often there are Mirrored or reflective surfaces in your day to day life. the extreme paranoia the concept conjures is wonderful

Final score, 7/10. Ryuki could do a lot better in some places (and was, in seasons like geats and also Dragon Knight or so I hear? IDK not watched dragon knight yet) but for what it is it is more than solid.

Faiz (555) (2003)

Faiz is one of the less talked about entries within the western sphere of the fandom... which is Fair. I think Faiz is an OK season but I did find myself tiring with it. the suits are rad but none of the characters ever really stuck, Powerups are often barely utilised which raises the question of why have them in the first place and like... Yeah IDK it just never really Gel for me.

the ending kind of comes out of no-where as well, plus I think (Spoilers) MURDERING A CHILD FOR SHOCK VALUE at the end is bad writing and was not very fun. Kiba becoming a major villain also felt forced as his fall from grace and redemption happen very quickly just do not feel congruent with his character up to that point.

I think my biggest Faiz Takeaway is the surprise that this is japans favourite season? this kind-of-just-ok entry into a franchise which has far better and more re-watchable entries? this?

(also this is not the fault of faiz but DO NOT FIND YOURSELF READING ORPHENOCHS AS A TRANS ALAGORY, WORST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. I acknowledge that this is a me thing, it was almost certainly not what the writters where going for... but Damn Sweaty that aged.)

so its like a... 5/10? that feels right. am I maybe lowballing the ranking for the sake of a "haha kamen rider 555 is a 5 out of 10" joke? maybe but honestly I just did not feel this one.

Blade (2004)

Frankly all I can say is that blade sure is another Early Heisei series. I don't want that to come off as bad or negative, its not meant that way, but once you have watched from agito to here back to back you start to notice how repetitive things feel in terms of pacing and story.

not to say that anything about blade is actually that bad, however, I did end up quite liking this series even if the hostility between its main characters got really grating at times. like seriously guys, can we go 5 episodes without someone being labelled a traitor or evil?

also on negatives, Kenzaki is kind of a wet cloth of a protagonist. Hes not bad, I do like him, but Hes far from the most interesting MC the series has produced. luckily this is made up for with the supporting cast, all of whom are great characters. Tachibana and Hajime especially are compelling secondary Main characters and I did really want to see them happy.

on the subject of happy, the one thing that always has to come up in blade discussion is the ending, which while I pretty imediatly picked up on other ways the characters could have resolved it the second they found out about the whole "the joker cant be the last undead standing" thing (Mutsuki just mcfucking use remote on shima before you defeat the catagory King of diamonds, then you wouldnt have had to go through any of this shit) I do feel that, with how the series plays out, its ultimately the best ending the characters could have hopped for. its not perfect, but it means that everyone gets to live, and despite what I know about the post series novels, I do firmly beleive that, yes, one day Kenzaki would figure out a way to defy their fate.

oh and one other thing. I dont like Chalices design. or, rather, I guess, I do like it but it feels weird to find out that chalice is visually just the catagory ace of hearts undead despite looking nothing like any other Undead in the show. it kinda reaks of contrivance and I dont like it, but honestly its fine all things considered.

7/10. Good show, enjoyable, but god I want early heisei to stop repeating itself.

Hibiki (2005)

Oh Hibiki, I was so torn on how to talk about this fuckass seasons. Because, like... heres the thing. This should be easy. This should have been a 10/10. This season should have been the second coming of kuuga, and for 30 episodes it was... and then it happens.

Hibiki is infamous for its production history, with the entire creative team being fired and replaced around episode 30, with the new team being sent in by toei to make the show "more kamen rider". And thats the problem.

Hibikis first half is brilliant because it breaks so many series rules. Its different, its fresh, its so cool. The tone is so different from anything that came before. Being a rider in this season isn't a great thing, its a job. More than any other season Hibiki is a coming of age story, one where we watch the shows real main character, Tag-along kid Asumu, grow into an adult. The characters are charming and grounded. The world of Hibiki is steaped in a level of fantastical realism which sets it apart from anything else. Fights take place in the Forests and natural areas rather than cities and quarries. Its all just perfectly different enough to be unique

And its great. Its so good. Its near perfect. And then the writers change. and the show gets bad. its gets so bad that for me it tainted the first half of the show. gone is any of the creativity or freshness of the series. Now Hibiki feels like any other rider season. And thats what killed it for me. My response to Hibiki as a whole is driven purely by an emotional response to its last 18 episodes, but its a rough 18, and frankly and 18 I have no desire to ever experience again.

To give the second half its due, the Movie is pretty decent and the final episode actually kinda sticks the series's thematic landing despite the majority of the second half fumbling most aspects. I can believe that it ends how it was always going to, even if characters like Kiriya would not and should not have been there.

If you only watch episodes 1-30 (and the movie fuck it) then Hibiki is an easy 9.5/10. Top Tier season. But that's not Hibiki. Hibiki is the full 48+movie run. and that full run is, to me, and I am sorry to say this, a 1/10. Maybe 1.25 due to sticking the landing on the ending.

Writing about Hibiki makes me sad. I hate this season because I loved this season, and I just hope what comes after can get me past this massive blemish.

Kabuto (2006)

god finding a gif for this one was hard, given I am reliant on the tumblr gifs feature and most people seem to have been simping for the hell twins which like... fair tbh.

Kabuto is a very good season, working pretty heavily on a pure "cool" factor because like... yeah the kabuto riders are kinda inherently cool. cast off, as an idea and an in universe mechanic are amazing and the clock up idea is brilliant. this show, from 2006, made on the budget of, well, a kamen rider season, achieves some stunning speedster action sequences that surpass some higher budget productions (I am looking at the CW flash here, to be clear).

kabutos story is a little slapdash, its kinda all just happens at the end and there's not a huge build up but it also really doesn't matter. the cast is excellent and that carries the show. again, operative word here is "cool" and thats really all that matters.

all of that about it being "cool" said though... I think it suffers in hindsight. I am gonna ignore the potentially problematic aspects of the depiction of the Worms and the Native, "aliens as allegory" being a well documented minefield and to be fair Kabuto never really goes there. no I think the real hindsight problem is Geats. Because frankly for as good as Kabuto is, and it is good, Geats is "Kabuto, But better, and cooler". Its not really fair to look at it that way but like... that is how it feels. then again when it takes 18 years to do better than this I guess that is acheivement.

8/10. Souji Tendo is a Mary Sue (complimentary) and gods Favourite child. and he deserves it.

Den-O (2007)

you know the most frustrating part of watching a highly popular and loved season of TV? when it really is that good.

Den-O is revolutionary. Its lighter, its funnier, its more actively episodic, it more or less sets the tone and style which would later be picked up by W. its defiantly a prototype for that style, and theres still some of the more infuriating aspects of early heisei present here, but overall den-O is the first time I saw aspects of what I like In later kamen rider manifest in early heisei.

and Thats great, because it gives Den-O an identity, unlike Blade or Faiz, because even if I liked those seasons they where so samey. Den-O is fresh, its new, and its all carried by an extended cast of fun side characters.

the taros (and also Seig and Deneb) are great. They are all very simple, almost archetypical characters, but they all bring something fun to the group dynamic. obviously Momotaros is the standout, probably having the most defined Characterisation out of the bunch, but all of them are very enjoyable characters to watch and follow.

RYOTARO IS A GIRLFALIURE. HES GREAT. we need more cringe fail rider protagonists to balance out the borderline Mary sues like Tendo and Ace. but hes also a compelling MC and fun to watch.

the story does bog itself down a little right at the end and I do kinda wonder what was going on with some parts. its not that they are not explained but the ending is maybe a little quick to wrap up. still, theres a decade and a half of postseries to clear that up, which I am eagerly awaiting to watch.

8/10. Ore Sanjou indeed

Kiva (2008)

Kiva, Kiva, Kiva. How I wish you where better. This is probably the show with the most interesting premise I have seen so far. The Main story is set across a 22 year time gap, with one half being set in the past of 1986 and the rest being set in the (then) present of 2009. Thats a really cool idea, and it bolstered by the Castlevania/Gothic horror aesthetic of everything. The Kiva suit is really cool (albeit notoriously heavy, resulting in the need to the final form to debut early), the Fangire as monsters are a really nice concept design wise, Being styled after Stained Glass windows which is such a rad concept. the only problem is that the actual main character SUCKS!

Ok Lemme just step back a bit. Wataru, the Main character of the 2009 section, the Person who is the titular "Kamen Rider Kiva", is fine. pretty likable actually. No the problem is his dad, the main character of 1986, Otoya. Otoya is a creep, Hes a Womaniser, Hes a Perv, He Gaslights 1986's secondary Protagonist Yuri into being in love with him Taming of the shrew style then dumps her for a WOMAN WHO IS ALREADY MARRIED (albeit to a different abusive asshole) and who is also A FANGIRE! I think Otoya might be the most despicable Character Kamen rider has dug up, which would be one thing, but the biggest Issue is that he is a creep and most of the plot is love triangles.

and these repetitive, boring and occasionally creepy (Jirou tries to Assault Yuri at one point, which is ick and also kinda feels out of character, more on that later) Love Triangles never really stop, and drag on, and frankly it was the most tedious watch ever.

no I do like somethings in this show. the Arms Monsters are all fun characters and I really liked Jirou as a character, I thought he was fun for the most part and kinda cool. issue is that, once Otoya gets in range, everyone in this show has a % chance to be corrupted into as much of a creep as he is. Jirou was always Kinda weird about yuri from his intro, but the moment Otoya starts his beef with Jirou the man just falls off and becomes as bad as his opponent.

In general I think the Present cast is stronger than the past one, mostly because no Otoya (apart from that one time)... but also once again, Kiva only knows tedious love triangles so the Wataru V Taiga over Mio arc is long and drawn out and dull. again, this series has one level, and its love triangles, and they all kinda suck.

Despite ALL I have said above, I will say the final arcs are a lot of fun... mostly because of how stupid they get. Time travel is re-introduced, because that will certainly help us clear up our plot, and Wataru goes back in time to Commit self-abortion by making sure his parents never bone, which is frankly a hilarious setup and it leads to some really fun interactions and briefly even makes Otoya borderline likeable, which is then immediatly followed by the final arc where Wataru Gets dripped out of his Goard and there are some really fun action sequences.

if it wasnt as necessary for the story as it is, I would recomend kiva with all of the 1986 sections edited out... but that is a terrible idea as in a lot of way the 1986 story is more of the main story than the 2009 story. with that in mind... its got to be a 4/10, right? I wanted to like it, Kiva has a sick as fuck design... but its not good. its really not good. Fuck Otoya Kurenai. All my Homies Hate Otoya Kurenai

G (2009)

ok wtf do I even say about G? that its shockingly good for a 15 minute special designed to celebrate TV Asahi's 50th anniversary? that its so ridiculous that I burst out multiple times? that I think the idea of the driver is legitimately cool and I kinda wish this was a full series for that alone? That I kinda Love G's Design unironically? that the villain is gonzo nuts and its great?

IDK there isn't really anything to analyze here. Its a short special that has only ever aired like once because of complicated legal stuff with the actors agency. its fun, its fast, if you like kamen rider already theres no real reason not to check it out for the bit, I mean... its good?

like 7/10 but also, again, 15 minute short. that 7 does not mean nearly the same thing it does for a proper series. I know Fuck all about SMAP btw, sorry if you where expecting more.

Decade (2009)

you know, unlike other shows where I have felt pretty confident in what I want to say about them long before I get done, I really am not sure how to approach decade. part of me is wondering if I even should be writing this section yet, as Decade doesnt really "end" as such when you finish the episodes, it just kinda stops, and then it keeps going on in the background until minimum the WxDecade movie or at Max the last 2 episodes of wizard, or even beyond to Zi-O.

in the way decade really is a weird beast of a show, plus I just really do not know what to say about the show as it exists in its shortened 31 episode form. Like, to be clear, I like decade. I actually really Like decade. I like its own main cast, I really like how they remix the themes and settings of older series's in the rider worlds, I actually like how its not really a crossover, because had it been a crossover it would have trodden on the toes of happy endings from series's I loved, and I think its better for not doing that.

its a good fun show and I really think that it has some of the most on point original suit designs in the franchise. Decade is iconic and unqiue in a way that rider haddnt really done before this point, but it is a change in aesthetic that would certainly effect shows to come. I think this is probably the biggest steppingstone between the more detailed but still somewhat showa-compliant designs of early heisei and the wildness of designs in shows like Ex-aid or Drive.

but again I really dont feel qualified to pick apart decade, or even write about it because it just straight up does not finish at the end of the series. I have too, the point of this post is to only really talk about the show in and of itself, but like that just doesnt feel appropriate for decade.

7/10. like IDK man, I liked it but how the fuck do I even approach this thing

W (DOUBLE) (2009)

I have like 3 go to series which I use to introduce new people to Rider, and the one I think I personally am Happy re-watching the most is W. Yes, its very episodic. Yes, because of this the background plot ends up getting resolved in 2 episodes ultimately. Yes, Akiko can be really annoying sometimes. Yes. I know its not perfect. I do not care.

W is pure fun. It is one of the funniest seasons the show has to offer, and also one of the most heartfelt. The show can go from sidesplitting comedy to actual serious moments in a heartbeat and it manages this without once experiencing tonal whiplash. the entire cast is likeable, the story is light and not super high stakes but fun, the individual clients that the cast encounter are great, the Music SLAPS (nobody's perfect is an under-rated rider banger IMO, love that song), and the suits are immaculate (even if most of the riders are just W retools).

speaking of other riders, the side content here is A+ too, with the WXDecade movies W portion being a really solid explanation of the backstory and giving us time with the best kamen rider who unfortunately doesn't have more screen time, and Gaia memories of fate is also just a good time, with a good set of villains and some really cool action.

also Phillip and shotaro are just funny. I love Wikipedia and crap sherlock holmes, they are great.

8.5/10. cant give better because it is not perfect but I love it.

OOO (2010)

OOO is a mess. Like, the plot changed 5 times behind the scenes kind of mess. like I hear that during the seasons development and even airing who the final boss was going to be was constantly shifting between Ankh, Date, Maki and the eventually Cut-save-for-one-canonically-questionable-movie Giru. This, like many things, I blame on Decade... because its all Decades fault. However, despite all that... yeah OOO is kinda good innit?

OOO still stands as the, objectively, best execution of the Mix-and-match Rider gimmick. OOO does not have super forms in the traditional sense, everything is just a variation on the base form, and the closest to super forms that you do get, the combos, are not very reliable long term. also, what forms the character has access to change constantly through the series based on what Medal Eiji has, meaning that you never get OOO at their full power. hell the series ends with Eiji with almost no medals, making them (debatably) the weakest they are in the whole series. its a very interesting dynamic and its something I wish would be done more often in rider. (Geats does get close and I applaude that.)

Also... you know, its just well written. I love all of the characters, Ankh is an amazing foil to Eiji, Goto and Date make fun Secondary Riders, Mr Kogami is Amazing and I love that they keep bringing the character back in unrelated media, best part of super hero senkei fight me.

yeah. OOOs good. I wish I could be more analytical with this particular season but I cant. my brain does not allow it. 8/10. great season.

Fourze (2011)

how the fuck do I talk about Fourze? Its a great season, don't get me wrong, but I think its the most uncomplicatedly "good season" I have ever seen. like its just good. its not good in and interesting way, its not good in a way that is worth talking about in any depth, its just Good.

and theres my problem, because I dont like that, I really want to have thoughts on these seasons because otherwise... what am I doing here, wasting my time writing about funny Bugmen on the hellsite. but really, fourze is just good. its got good characters, its got a good story, its got good vibes, its just good in a very uncomplicated way.

my biggest criticism, which isnt even really that much of a criticism, is because the show has to get through 40 astroswitches, a good number either never re-occur during the show or are just kinda weird and pointless in their function outside of their specific focus period. But even then thats so minor because the 40 astroswitches are never really that much of a focus and also, once again, the weird and whacky ones are just fun.

9/10. I wish I could say more, but its fourze

Amazons (season 1) (2016)

it has occurred to me after finishing Geats I should probably include the oddities in this post/run-through because even if they are not "Main seasons" they are certainly worthy of discussion (and also I do intend to include showa here at some point, even if I am not watching it yet. who knows, by the time you are reading it maybe the showa shows are included). they give us a glimpse at ideas and characters which cant be explored normally in rider, and grant potentially interesting re-interpretations of age old characters.

with all that said... I don't really care for Amazons. season 1 specifically, I have not yet finished season 2 and it was removed from amazon prime so there goes one of the few ways to legally enjoy this franchise.

on its own its fine, like I dont think this is a particuarly bad attempt at "kamen rider but adult, violent and edgy" but I do feel that ultimatly thats all that Amazons really has. its unbearable dower and dark and features so few really likeable characters. I get why its so violent, the violence was the defining feature of original Amazon and so of course with an adult re-imagining you lean into that, but it still feels really tryhard, and more than anything, just miserable.

I might come back to this particular entry at some point because Honestly I think season 1 warrants a re-watch from me and maybe I will get it more or care more for what its doing. but all that said, 7/10. its fine. if you want Violent rider this is violent rider. I just dont feel like its that much more than that.

Zero-One (2019)

Zero One was my first season, and its a pretty well loved season by the wider community. its one of my 3 go-to "if you want to get into Kamen Rider, Start here" seasons, and its the one I point too most often when that question comes up because its the most recent, and therefore has the best VFX of any of my go-tos.

so when I say that I fucking hate this season, that might come as a surprise. if I hate it, why do I recomend it?

well its simple really. Zero-One has major, Ground up Writing and stakes issues which makes it, at best, a very frustrating watch.

Death is meaningless. most of the characters who die are AIs who are revived in the very next episode with no cost, and remembering everything that happened to them prior to their death. only 1 character death, in the whole show, Sticks, and thats Wazu (I will be using Izu, Azu and Wazu because Is, As and Was would get confusing), and that episode set is ultimatly kinda unimportant and Wazu's death is forgotten, never to be bought up again.

the ending is a mess, mostly due to covid causing constant changes to the series plans, but those final few episodes are rough and I wish that the series had ended with the Ark as the main Badguy, rather than having Aruto Heelturn and then making Horobi the final boss.

also, and I try not to bring up post-series in this because its broadly unimportant, but zero-ones post season content is utter dogshit. the movie is ok, although reviving Izu not only retroactivly makes the series ending dumber but also effectively means new Izu was murdered and her body was jacked by old izu (WHICH THIS IS NEVER EXPANDED UPON, IT JUST HAPPENS), but what the hell was zero-one Others? yeah, sure, just kill off all of the interesting characters who could have had really interesting post-series stories, Lets character assassinate everyone in this show, and then lets also kill off the secondary rider in the cruellest way possible because fuck you I guess. No I am not over Fuwa, I will never be over Fuwa, but even more so I am not over Ikazuchi and Naki. those two where Criminally underused in the show, but now we will never get a chance to get more time with them. Thanks toei.

with all that having been said... IDK, Zero one is fine. its far from the worst season I have seen, and I do still recomend it as a starting point for the franchise as a whole because its a good "onboarding" point if you will. its about as basic as a rider season can get.

Despite everything I have said: 5/10

Saber (2020)

Saber is also really bad, but kind of in the same way that Fourze is really good. Its bad but I don't really have much to say about it. by all accounts, it would have worked much better as a Sentai season rather than rider given the heavy team focus and a core Red-Yellow-Blue Main trio.

Saber is largely forgettable. its plot meanders around, its characters exist, and its individual story arcs tend to just happen. its not a very interesting series, and I think that really its problem. if it was as bad as it is but in an interesting way, i would probably prefer it because at least I would get that it was trying something, but really the Series is just kind of bland.

However, its not completely pointless. The henshin jingles and standby loops are A+ tier, Special shout-outs going to Slash. Desast, while he does nothing most of the season and his existence is confusing, is a fun character and I am glad he is back in recent media (although I... haven't watched any of it yet, maybe it sucks). and, of course, the Crossover Movie with Zenkaiger is Excellent. you do not have to watch saber, but you owe it to yourself to watch that film. its a wonderful, heartfelt love letter to both franchises and I love it.

but in all... saber kinda bad. I think the biggest example of why is found in Durandal, who is introduced as this big problem... but then the moment Touma figures out his gimmick hes now nothing. while this is the biggest example, its kinda an inherent repeating problem for the whole show.

2/10. not 1 because it has some good aspects... but ultimatly I would rather be angry at a season than bored with it.

Revice (2021)

So its... kinda a catchphrase of mine to say "Revice is fine, y'all are just mean" but also like... I do Get why some people dont like it. the second half can feel strange as compared to the first, Vice is a very Abrasive character to have around for every episode, and a lot of its best aspects are in side content.

but like... man I like revice. I like its themes of Freedom VS saftey, I like how it handles the aspect that being a rider pretty universally sucks for all of its characters. I like how Morally ambiguous the majority of the cast are. I like how no-one is treated as irredeemable, even if some of them are.

and mostly I like Ikki and Vice. this season lives or dies for you based on if you like the two characters at the center of it. all of the awesome suits and interesting villains mean nothing if your main characters are not likeable. and I think these two work. they bounce off of each other well and I really like the sort of broadly unstated fact that vice is all of the parts of Ikki which Ikki rejects. Ikki is humble and selfless to a fault, mostly quite and reserved, while vice is loud and narcissistic and energetic. I think their dynamic works really well.

it also plays into a theme of the season which I really enjoy, the Idea that the characters inner demons are the parts of themselves that they reject and that they ultimately have to come to terms with those parts of themselves. by the end of the series, Ikki is a bit more like vice, and is much more comfortable with the "Vice" parts of himself (even if he doesnt know why because of tragedy and heartbreak). In comparison, the other igurashis have done the same. Sakura is much more comfortable with the parts of herself she considered weak, while not letting that over ride her kung-fu Girlboss attitude. Daiji has come to terms with his Middle-child angst and insecurities. and Genta has come to terms with the mistakes of his youth and is looking to grow past them.

revice is not perfect, its storytelling can be a mess sometimes, its barely a crossover/anniversary season, the last 4 episodes feel more like Vcines than actual episodes of the show... but Damn it Revice meant something to me. this was the first season I watched as it was airing, but even regardless it stands out to me on how well handled this was. I have yet to really dive in on post series and god I hope they dont fuck it up like they did with zero one... but For me, Revice is special.

8/10. Revice is Fine. Y'all are just mean

Geats (2022)

Kamen Rider Geats is... something else. I am writing this literal seconds after finishing the final episode, because I have known what I want to say about this season for a long time but after seeing its ending just... wow.

Put simply: Geats is the first time (as far as I have seen) since Kuuga that the show has reached this level of pure, technical "greatness". Not since Kuuga has the writing been this good, the suits this good, the fights this good. and remember, I consider Kuuga to be the best season this show has done. Geats is that good.

its rich, its deep, its beautifully shot and choreographed, Its characters are layered and interesting. Geats is a tour-de-force in terms of this franchise. I thought revice was going to be a hard act to follow but geats blew it out of the water.

I do want to stress that while I consider Geats to be up there in terms of quality, I don't necessarily enjoy it as much as other seasons. Reminder that Enjoyment and "objective" quality are frequently two different things, but I would be lying if I said that I did not also still love this season.

also Geats says eat the rich. I will not elaborate further but if you have seen the show you know what I mean.

9/10. only losing a point because the disaster arc kind of never went anywhere

Shin Kamen Rider (2023)

fuck it this counts. As of Writing this part, I have not actually seen the original 1971 Kamen Rider series. I wholly intend to some day, I just haven't gotten around to it. so please bare in mind that some stuff I have to say about this movie may just be accurate to what that show is like.

now I am going to leave the Pacing of the film alone as far as criticism goes. even though Shin deviates heavily from the source material, it is still trying to adapt the broad strokes and tone of a 90-odd episode TV show from the 70s into under 3 hours. Plus, this is nothing new for the Shin Japan Heros films, Shin Ultraman also suffered from this.

what I will criticize is the fight scenes. Hot take but like... Geats was better. a TV show with a fraction of the budget and half the development time has better fight scenes than the big budget movie. so much of the action, especially in the first half, is weirdly edited and lacks cohesion. this does pick up towards the end, and, yes, I cheered in delight when Takeshi and Ichimonji went sicko mode on the shocker riders. like audible yell of "YEAH!" chear, but again those first few fights are weird and not great to watch.

beyond that honestly pretty major criticism, the film is very good. its kind of melodramatic and dower a lot of the time but given its specifically aiming for the tone of those 14 episodes of 1971, from what I know that's fine, that's how those episodes went. Plus, I am not going to say it isnt effective. I cried, I cheered, a good time was had by all.

This is not my favourite piece of Kamen rider media. honestly I dont know If I will revisit it for a long time. it lacks a lot of what I enjoy in this franchise. that said, this is a phenomenal work. I respect if for what it attempts, and enjoy it regardless of my aversion to the style. 9/10. Kamen rider in its purest, most raw, most uncut form.

Gotchard (2023)

Geats was always going to be a tough act to follow, so when I say that Gotchard is kinda mid in comparison to its predecessors know that I still think its good. Gotchard is, for better and for worse, a lighter season. Its not taking itself too seriously, its here for a good time and it knows that. its perfectly average as a rider season and that's fine.

If there is one thing which Gotchard does excel at, its suit designs. I love Evocative Kaijin and the Malgam are damn evocative. the additional arms, the look of being made out of strips of metal. this of course continues to the main antagonists, the Abyssal kings. this is not to diminish the riders designs, Gotchards use of chrome is striking and Valvarad and Majade are both very solid designs in their own right. I think the only real costume miss is the final big bads design with his fucking HUGE tits, like holy shit Glion calm down

oh yeah, and Majade. the first Girl secondary rider. I wish she did more tbf, Rinne is very important to the story and yet also feels sidelined alot, but she is a historically important character and a big step on the way to a Girl MC for the series.

Aside from that... yeah Gotchard sure is a kamen rider season. big up for its distinction of only introducing secondary riders at roughly the mid-point, it has been a long time since there wasn't 2 riders basically from day one. Also uh... the ending is kinda underwhelming and they very much fridge all of the abyssal sisters with the half-hearted promise of "oh we will revive them in the post series its fine" which is super dumb. Did lachesis really go through all that just to die as part of Spanners character arc? Big cringe.

Gotchard gets a 6 out of 10. pure average, but average is fine and I think that if you want a fun season of kamen rider you cant go wrong with Gotchard.

Gavv Section Coming once Gavv is done and not a second sooner.

[thesevenofhearts]

i'm here, professor, and have some questions about arcane, journal, sonnet, and vermillion~

well, you see, a sonnet is a form of poetry with fourteen lines. there’s a few different structures, but i think most are introduced through shakespeare, which included a rhyming couplet at the end. shakespeare wrote quite a few, with a good bit of them being addressed to “his dark lady” though they’re not all written solely from his perspective! a lot of them were commissioned by—wait you meant for the asks. alrighty then.

arcane: what character in any piece of media do you relate to strongly?

ooooof hmn. hmmmn. for a minute i was really struggling but i think i have one! chidi from the good place. literally so much of what he does is so relatable. alternatively, and not very seriously but fairly accurately, beaker from the muppets. i don’t think there’s been a solid week where i haven’t spontaneously done a solid impression of him with zero intention. i was just surprised, everything is fine.

journal: what does your handwriting look like? do you like it?

it looks like this! i think it’s alright, i’m not mad at it. sometimes if i’m writing in a hurry it’s not very legible though.

sonnet: how would you react if you recieved a love letter from an unnamed ‘secret admirer’?

oh hey! remember how i said i relate to chidi? i would be so nervous if not anxious about it that i would literally feel physically ill! i have no idea who would send me a letter like that, and also i have no idea how i would react to that. even if i did, hypothetically, know someone who could feasibly feel that way, if it was an anonymous letter i would not consider it legitimate. and i’d have so many more questions than the letter could possibly answer.

also i would eventually start combing it for any chance of a clue at all. compare handwriting. see if they use any phrases that anyone i know uses, etc. after that initial reaction i’d be determined to hunt them down. still not considering it genuine though.

vermillion: what kind of jewelry do you prefer wearing, if any?

oh earrings are super easy and fun. a lot of my friends and coworkers have said that they really like them too. i have earrings that are like swords, playing cards, knives, bat wings, etc. very fun! rings are also fun, but a bit harder to find in my size :/

[scotianostra]

On 17th December, James VI was baptised.

The ceremony was with  "splendour such as had not been seen in Scotland since the days of the baby’s grandfather James V".

This was the only occasion during her personal rule that Mary raised taxation for expenditure outside the normal business of government – she was determined to show that her son was the legitimate heir to the crown of Scotland, and perhaps also to that of England.

There’s a couple of paragraphs from the history books describing the occasion, the first from “The life of Mary” reads:

In the chapel of Stirling castle, was the Prince baptised, on Tuesday, the 17th of December 1566. Every thing was done, at the solemnity, according to the form of the Roman Catholick church. The Prince was held up, at the font, by the Countess of Argyle, under a commission from Elizabeth, as her representative. And the Archbishop of St. Andrews did administer the baptism, with the usual ceremonies of the Roman church. Neither the Earl of Bedford, Elizabeth’s representative, nor any of the Scotish nobility of the new form, entered into the chapel, but stood, without the door. After the rites were all performed, the child’s name, and titles, were thrice proclaimed, by the heralds, under sound of trumpet, Charles James, James Charles. It was the Queen’s pleasure, as we learn, from Le Croc, that he should bear the name of James, as all the good kings of Scotland had the same name, and the name of Charles, being the name of the King of France. Then did the music begin; and after it had continued for some time, the Prince was again conveyed to his apartment. The Countess of Argyle, by thus representing the English Queen, at this ceremony, gave offence to the reformed church, and was obliged to do penance, for her sin. The reformed nobility, by standing, without the door, avoided this scandal. And Bedford, by imitating their example, cannot be said, to have been present at the ceremony, as Elizabeth’s gossip, though he had come so far, for the purpose of ceremony. Thus nearly allied to folly is fanaticism!

And this from , Reign of Mary, 1565-1567

Dec. 17  – The young prince was baptised at Stirling Castle, and named Charles James. The preparations in apparel and decorations were magnificent beyond everything of the kind hitherto known. ‘The said prince was borne out of his chalmer to the chapel by the French ambassador, my Lady of Argyle, cummer for the Queen of England by commission, and Monsieur La Croc for the Duke of Savoy. All the barons and gentlemen bore prickets of wax, wha stood in rank on ilk side, frae the prince’s chalmer door to the said chapel. Next the French ambassador, and great serge of wax by the Earl of Athole, the salt-vat by the Earl of Eglintoun, the cude by the Lord Semple, the basin and laver by the Lord Ross; and at the chapel door, the prince was receivit by my Lord Sanct Androis, with staff, mitre, cross, and the rest. The prince was baptisit in the said font’ [which was ‘twa stane wecht, of fine gold,’ a gift from Queen Elizabeth], ‘and their solemnities endit by near five hours afternoon.

With Mary producing an heir to the throne her life began to unravel,  in February James’s father, Lord Darnley would be lying dead in Kirk o’ Field house in Edinburgh, a crime she may or may not have been involved with, in April she saw her son for the last time as events spiralled that month,  she is said to have been abducted, either forcibly or willingly, by James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell and taken to Dunbar Castle. The pair travelled to Edinburgh together and are married in a Protestant ceremony in May, two months later she was forced to abdicate in favour of her son.

[akpaleyreblogs]

Hi. I'm that one anon. So I don't need to fear from AI art genereters? Is it still posible for me to build an audience, when there is AI art genereters? How can I surviv as an artist, because that's one of the few things that I can do, because of born with learning dificulty, that can be posably categorasd as a disabelity, but I'm not to shour. Sorry if I sound stupid, or if I'm over reaction.

I'm not saying you have nothing to fear from AI art generators if you're trying to make money as an artist. I think that would be a ludicrous thing for me to say. AI art generators will give outlets to people who never would have spent the money to commission you, but they will also take up some amount of attention and energy that might have been constructive for you. You are competing with them if you're trying to be a professional, no question.

You are also, to be clear, competing with photographers. People stopped commissioning as many portraits when photography became an accessible technology. You're just used to that one. What you will note, however, is that photography did not eliminate demand for portrait artists. It reduced it and it changed it. What I expect us to see from AI is a reduction of unknown size and change in unknown shape of demand for independent artists. It will get harder. Thinking that something is a legitimate art and a useful technology doesn't mean I'm not unhappy for all of the people who are going to be displaced by it.

What I will say is that photographs have not eliminated the audience for photorealistic artwork, any more than mass produced belts have eliminated the audience for interesting handmade leather work. People look for different things in these different places. If I'm just buying a belt from the store off the rack, I want something functional. But if I want something beautiful and interesting I'll go look for an independent craftsman who I'm willing to pay real money for something special, or custom, or just done in a style that doesn't get mass produced. I suspect the freelance art market will be similar. You may still be able to build a following of people who find your style and your work compelling. There will always be a group of consumers who are interested in buying something bespoke, custom, in your specific style, etc if you can figure out how to reach them. Marketing yourself is going to be important, but to be fair, you were already competing with every artist and photographer and television show and everything else to do that, so marketing is already important. There are a lot of talented people out there, you are competing with all of them for eyes and clients. Art is already a very difficult field to make it in for that reason. It will get harder. I do not want to pretend it won't. But it's not going to disappear.

There will likely be an emerging market for AI artists who are good at it. That market will exist alongside the market for digital or traditional artists, the same way that digital art and photography emerged alongside traditional art markets. I remember when I was a kid and getting into digital art there was a lot of discourse from traditional artists about how digital art wasn't a real art form and freaking out because it was going to compete with painters. And it did. And it does. But it didn't get rid of the market for paintings. Things will change. People who were doing okay in the status quo are going to have to figure out what their lives look like in the changed world. But that's how it's always been.

Ultimately, my stance comes down to this: I do not think AI art is going away. Automation rarely does. I think attempts to restrict it will affect independent people who want to use models, but won't ultimately affect industry giants with resources very much and so are likely to consolidate money and capital with a few very wealthy capitalists while those tools become unavailable to the everyday people who would have gotten use from them. So I want a response to that problem to be healthy and constructive as a community.

Specifically I want our response to that problem to be to push our governments really hard for arts funding, a strong social safety net, and a UBI. You're afraid of not being able to make it as an artist because you're disabled and that makes surviving difficult in our current system. I want to push for a social safety net that would allow you to survive even if you couldn't work. A lot of artists are afraid of being pushed out of professional art because art is the thing that makes them happy and what they want to be spending their time doing. If they get pushed out of professional art under the current system, they have to go find some other job to devote very large numbers of hours to and they don't get to make very much art. I want a UBI or a 30-hour work week so that these people can afford not to work full-time so that they can continue devoting large amounts of time to what they love. Both of those reforms would affect a lot more than artists, they would be significant steps towards a more livable society for everyone. But to work, they would also do something that's really important to me, which is to capture the value that is being generated by machines and distribute it to people.

You are not stupid. You are not overreacting. You have good reason to be afraid of AI art if you are a professional artist or seeking to be one. But I think the rational reaction to that is to demand socialized public policy, not to ineffectively push back against a new tool. If you live in the United States, vote and call your senators and representatives. If you live in other countries, same deal but for your system. The solution to automation is socialism and the distribution of the value that automation creates to the populations affected by it.

[keilemlucent]

i am your salvation

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~13k

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected it’s abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy.

Only you know him like that.

warnings: manga spoilers, suicidal ideation, abuse, ANGST with a capital A, just sad :^(((

this piece is hellish, enjoy ;^))) beta’ed by the lovely @keiqos, bless u

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

Keigo was fucked.

He was so beyond fucked.

He was dead.

Basically.

He was half-alive in a hospital bed. An IV drip in each arm, pumping him full of god knows what. He didn’t care to ask. All he knew was that he fucked up.

He’d gotten sloppy.

Stupid.

Pompous. 

And now his wings were fried off his back.

(By fucking Dabi no less.)

 The first conversation he’d had with his doctor upon waking at the HPSC hospital was one where he legitimately contemplated suicide for the first time in a long while.

  “Hawks... There’s no good way to say this. There just isn’t,” The doctor began, looking through Keigo’s chart, sighing deeply. There was something so grave about the way he moved through the sterile hospital room.

The doctor handed him a handheld mirror. 

Hawks slowly raised it up with weakened arms, knowing what he’d see. 

A gruesome burn tore down the left side of his face. It puckered the skin around his eye, narrowing his field of vision (thank god he still had any vision at all). The soft flesh around his eye was so angry and blistered, pockets of puss gathering beneath the surface of his skin.

But what was worse than the scar, so much fucking worse, was the absence.

The complete absence of his wings.

No stubs, no nubs. Just nothing. 

His back ached against the hospital bed as he handed the mirror back to the doctor.

The doctor sighed again. He spoke to Hawks like he didn’t think the hero already knew what he was going to say, “Your wings are gone. Fully. The scans we’ve taken show that the... well, roots of them in your flesh are still present, they’re encased in scar tissue. Even the sections that the feathers grow from are cauterized. In our professional opinion, we don’t think that they’ll ever grow again.”

His heart fell in his chest. 

It fell so deep.

So far.

He didn’t let himself cry.

Instead, he contemplated how hard it would be to overdose on morphine they were undoubtedly dosing him with. 

The doctor continued as Keigo stared sightlessly at his lap, “As established, the muscles that control the roots of your wings are still intact, yes. But, they’re heavily damaged in a way that will affect your everyday life. Even without your wings, the recovery to stabilize your injuries is going to be strenuous.”

Who fucking cared.

Hawks had spent the vast majority of his life training to be a hero and now the very thing that made him the best was literally burned from him. It felt unholy. It felt awful.

Fire wasn’t cleansing, it was putrid. Desecrated was his body as well as his mind.

  He didn’t listen to much else of what the doctor said. He let himself go blank, wishing tears would fall. 

 ...

 That was yesterday.

Today, he was allowed visitors. His PA came, informing him that the Commission was putting him on extended, indefinite (thankfully, somewhat paid) leave in exchange for media appearances. They also informed him that half of the top ten were dead after the war with the PLF. Ryuku, Miruko, Edgeshot, Kamuiwoods, Crust, all lost. And countless others, too. Even some students. It seemed that there was no clear winner of the fight that took so many and changed so much.

One of the most hard-hitting pieces of news was that Endeavor was in a coma, on life support, with a brain injury that would most likely kill him. At best, he’d be a vegetable. 

Keigo felt nothing but hollow as he laid in his hospital bed. He was half machine, based on all of the tubes and monitors that he was hooked up to. He felt truly mechanical and falsely alive. Truly, he was used up. He wanted to die. He was sure of it. 

Keigo wanted to ask his PA to smother him.

He didn’t.

 The next person to visit him was you. His PA had informed him that they were legally obligated to see him first, otherwise, you would’ve been clawing his door down.

You.

Keigo didn’t want you to see him like this. All the reasons you had fallen for him were gone. There was no confidence, no lip, no charm, no drive, no stunning scarlet wings— nothing. He even had the bonus deterrent of a nasty scar covering half his face. He was so sure that you’d take one look at him and turn right out the door. 

Leave him for good. 

Maybe spit on him for good measure.

The old muscles of his wings twitched as you walked through the door. It burned like an old hell. 

You’d clearly been crying, face and eyes puffy. 

But you were strong for him.

You pulled a chair up next to his bed wordlessly. You sat, laying your head on his antiseptic smelling sheets and mattress. Your eyes went half-lidded, just barely looking up at Keigo’s terrified expression. You reached out, grabbing one of Keigo’s clammy hands. You squeezed it.

“I’m here, Kei’,” Your voice was so quiet. “It’s alright. I love you. I’ve got you.”

It made him break.

The machines that he was reliant on screamed as he desperately grabbed at you, dragging you up with the little strength he had. You pushed him down, moving to half kneel on his bed. You didn’t make Keigo work for your touch. 

You cradled his head to your chest as his scarred hands fisted your sweater. He screamed into your sternum. Keigo wailed and cried with everything he had. He was losing himself, raging for far more than just his current injury.

 He bawled for every single time he couldn’t in his hero training, forced to be broken by the demands of the Commission. He sobbed for every casualty and death that was on his hands, righteous or otherwise. And, selfishly, he cried for himself. He let tears fall in mourning for the version of himself that died by Dabi’s hand. 

He let himself shatter in your arms for the burning muscles and scars of his back, the ache of his face, and the emptiness and vulnerability that his lack of wings graced him with.

You more than let him; you encouraged it.

You stroked his hair, matted with sweat and grease. You whispered soft adorations, validations and love into his ears. He can hear your tears too, but it didn’t stop you.

“I love you, Keigo.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve got you, Kei’.”

“No one else will hurt you. I won’t let them.”

 You were far too late on the last one. But, you were quirkless. Powerless to stop the destruction that ravaged his body and now, his mind. 

Additionally, Keigo was relieved you didn’t say that ‘everything will be okay’. 

He knew it wouldn’t be.

You let him crumble against you for hours. 

Finally, he was spent, falling back in his bed, and letting you slump back into your chair. You took the liberty of finding a warm towel to wipe his face down with.

The rest of visiting hours, you laid your head on his mattress, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. Nurses came and poked and prodded him. They didn’t bother making conversation with either of you. 

They understood, to some degree. 

You were both together in mourning. 

A nurse came by later, night had fallen, telling you visiting hours were over. 

Keigo audibly whined.

You shook your head, running a thumb over Keigo’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” You soothed both him and the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”

The nurse didn’t fight you, merely exited the room.

Keigo watched, awed. You retrieved a decently sized duffle bag and pillow that you’d brought (he hadn’t noticed). You set up a blanket and the pillow on a couch in the corner as a makeshift bed.

“Y-you’re staying?” Keigo asked, voice raw. 

You, somehow, smiled. So gentle and precious, nodding, “As long as you’d like me to. I told you, I’m here.”

Keigo relied on you for comfort in the past, sure. But not like this. Not like you were his anchor, tethering him to his existence now that his pride and preen were plucked from him. You were his salvation in that hospital room. You were the ground that he desperately and necessarily needed to learn to walk on.

 You both fell asleep quickly, dreaming of better things outside of your waking nightmare.

 ---------------------------

 Keigo was discharged two weeks later.

It is thoroughly confirmed that, unless by some medical miracle, his wings were truly toast. Gone for good.

The Commission brought in at least a dozen folks with spectacular healing quirks. Truly, the best the country had. Turns out, the Commission was clawing for hope too, in the wake of everything.

The efforts were in vain, of course.

Nothing stuck. 

The scar tissue wouldn’t shrink. The damage was too severe. The cauterization was so intense, it altered him. Forever.

 You stayed with him the whole time.

You went home, just a bit, maybe an hour a day. You showered then, changed clothes. 

You’d come back and do what you had been the whole time.

Just being there.

 You didn’t make him idly chat or make him watch shitty, hospital cable. You let him ruminate, stew, and simmer. You let him be crushed.

You were smart enough, empathetic enough to know that nothing you could do or say would lift him right now. 

He just needed you there.

And so, you were. 

 After being discharged with several prescriptions, orders to limit activity to allow for his other injuries (and concussion) to heal, the two of you went home. 

 Your first task was Keigo getting properly washed. 

At first, Keigo resisted.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’ll take one tomorrow,” Truthfully, he wouldn’t probably, not without your help. He just didn’t want you to see him so intimately in this state.

You shook your head, speaking as you brought several plush towels into the bathroom. You turned to Keigo who had wrapped his arms around his frail-looking form, looking at the floor.

You brought him into your arms, rubbing at his neck, not wanting to aggravate the injuries on his back, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll feel good. Let me take care of you, please.”

You spoke so earnestly, it made Keigo fall apart. He hated being so helpless. 

He nodded against you.

You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran a bath in Keigo’s spectacular tub. You poured in epsom salts and some lavender bubble bath, filling the room with a familiar, herbal scent.

You helped him strip, mindful to not linger on any part of his body. Carefully, you lowered Keigo into the water. He could help but be surprised by the strength in your body to do so. Perhaps foolishly, he had never taken you as physically strong. After stripping yourself, you got in as well, across from him, so you wouldn’t see his scars. You were perhaps a bit too considerate.

The water burned his wounds, yet calmed his muscles. It was a different sensation than the ones he’d had for the past weeks. He welcomed it.

Keigo sagged in the bathwater, looking somewhat relaxed for the first time in so long. You knelt in the water and suds, lathering up his hair and body. So carefully did you wash away the sweat, smells, and lingerings of the hospital and the war that preceded it. You went through his hair with your own conditioner, figuring that the familiar smell might help keep him calm. Keigo didn’t say anything, just let you do as you needed. You carefully untangled any and all knots from his tresses, rinsing him down.

You dried him off, putting a few scented body oils on his dry patches of skin, parched from his time in the hospital. You still didn’t look at his back.

He felt ashamed and thoroughly disgusted. He smushed his face into your shoulder, gripping onto your like if he wasn’t, he’d die.

You find him fucking repulsive, right?

 “Kei’,” Your voice quiet still, “You okay?— Wait, don’t answer that.”

You chuckle at yourself. Keigo would’ve laughed too if he could. 

Keigo dressed himself, a semi-self sufficient act that made him feel better. Though, you picked out the clothes. Some of your own, soft, old garments that Keigo had seen you in a hundred times. 

It was only before he put on a shirt that you gave his back the quickest once-over, “You can put your shirt on now, Kei’. I just wanted to make sure it looked okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Even that much sight and contact of the old roots of his wings made him feel so ashamed. It burned the corpse of his ego like the hot fire that crisped his wings. 

Despite those nasty feelings, the simple act of wearing your shirt made him feel better. It felt so good, so good, to be surrounded by you instead of the sterility of the hospital. 

 You had been kind enough to leave the hospital for a bit longer than normal the day prior to go shopping. You bought Keigo a large, fluffy, ivory blanket. You even washed it, so it smelled like home (and you) too.  

After you helped him to the wide couch, custom made to accommodate Keigo’s now torched wings. It was a small burn (ha) to his psyche, but he tried to let it go as you got him comfortable.

You gave him your special pillow. The one Keigo loved to steal and take naps with. You covered him in the new blanket.

“Is that okay?” You asked, tucking him in. Keigo would normally be embarrassed by something childish like that, but he couldn’t make himself care. It felt so good to be comforted. 

 So softly, he replied, “You made it feel like home already.”

You let a sad smile drift to your face, massaging Keigo’s scalp as he sobbed into his new blanket. 

He was so glad to be surrounded by you, no matter how rotten he felt. 

 -------------------

 The first week home was the hardest. Sleeping was painful, even next to you. Eating was a fucking labor as he had no appetite. Nothing interested him in the slightest other than staring at walls and pretending he would wake up from this nightmare soon.

An at-home physical therapist was brought in. He had to retrain the muscles in his back to relax, now that they weren’t carrying the weight of his wings. The constant tension in his back would cause long term damage (not like he wasn’t already riddled with chronic injury), least of all tension headaches. 

Your job let you work from home. Thank god.

...

Keigo hated his exercises. They hurt so bad.

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected its abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy. 

Only you knew him like that.

 Keigo’s fists slammed against the floor as he strained with his PT exercises, the therapist themselves long gone for the day. You worked from your laptop on the couch. You weren’t supposed to aid him with his exercises unless necessary, as the therapist had instructed.

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked, almost coaxingly. 

Keigo beat his fists once more, crying out almost like a petulant child, (he hated himself for it oh my god—), “I don’t want to fucking do this! I can’t do this!”

And Keigo sobbed into the floor with abandon.

You moved from the couch to haul him into your arms, pressing his face into your neck. You said nothing, you just let him scream and die against you.

“I can’t do this!” 

“I hate this!”

“Make this fucking stop!”

“Just make this all fucking stop!”

“JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!”

This got you to speak, not shushing him, but just trying to soothe—

“IF YOU REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME, THEN YOU’LL SLIT MY THROAT IN MY SLEEP AND LET THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE BE OVER!—”

 You froze. 

He didn’t.

Keigo kept begging you to kill him. 

Incessantly so.

He didn’t know what to do.

This was a tantrum, maybe. More like a breakdown. It felt dramatic. But, his thoughts were real. He’d be happy to die, especially by your hand. Then you wouldn’t have to take care of him and he wouldn’t be able to feel as awful as he did. 

You kept holding him, squeezing him harder and harder still. 

Finally, Keigo tuckered himself out and sagged against you. 

 You reached up to the side table, grabbing your own glass of water, and offering it to him. You still hadn’t spoken.

Part of him thought to apologize, crack a joke even. But he couldn’t make himself do either. Instead, his shaking hands grabbed the glass. You didn’t fully let it go, just guided it to his lips where it dribbles down his chin. 

Keigo sputtered a sob.

He couldn’t stand being so weak.

 “Love,” You spoke so softly as he sipped. “I will never hurt you like that. I won’t let anyone else, either.”

Keigo suddenly started fucking laughing, for the first time in so fucking long, ripping the cup fully from your hands and throwing it across the room. It shattered in a wild display of raining glass and water. He hadn’t laughed in what felt like months. He let it loose, grabbing your face and directing it right at you, breath curling over your cheeks.

He knew it was cruel, to take it out on you. He hated himself for it even as he was doing it.

“How the fuck do you think you’ll protect me?” Keigo cackled into your face, horror beginning to overtake your features. He didn’t care. It felt good— “You’re just some stupid, weak, quirkless civilian— how the fuck do you think someone as powerless as you can protect me when I can’t even protect me—!”

 He kept laughing, but he was crying. He couldn’t tell which was which. Keigo could only tell he was hysterical.

 This whole time, since he had woken up in the hospital, you had been nothing but the perfect partner. You had been so kind, asking for nothing in return.

And yet, he’d verbally strike you like this for no other reason than his own hurt.

How fucking cruel.

 You let Keigo go, unable to disguise the pain in your expression. You didn’t say anything back to him. As you left the room, you were covering your eyes with your arm. Keigo caught one of your sobs as you fled to the bathroom, almost slamming the door. 

 Keigo heard your muffled cries for hours until you fell asleep on the bathroom tile as his old burns and guilt ate him alive. 

 He tried his exercises again. 

 -------------------

 That night, Keigo was too deep in sleep to hear you enter your shared bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to sleep next to him. You thought about returning to the bathroom or moving to the couch. But, you couldn’t make yourself. 

Keigo’s words hurt so bad. 

Partially because they were cruel. They gnawed at your insecurities, the fears you were desperately suppressing for him. 

Partially because you hated the fact you couldn’t do more, despite already doing so much. 

Partially because you knew that Keigo would never say things like that to you if he wasn’t being eaten up on the inside. 

Partially because the love of your life asked you to snuff his life out. 

It all hurt. Stung. Ached. Burned. 

 There was a small detail that hurt in a different way.

He called you quirkless.

You weren’t quirkless.

Your quirk was so weak and so taxing, sure. It was basically unusable. For fucks sake, you never even bothered to tell Keigo directly as you never used it. He had access to citizen quirk records, and you figured he checked in the several years the two of you had been dating. Apparently not.

But, you did have a quirk.

You stood next to your bed, Keigo covered in the comforter and soft white blanket you’d gotten for him. You could see the peakings of his back. His skin was marred with burns, cuts and scars that looked unimaginably horrible. You’d been avoiding looking at it, for him. You’d seen how it made him cringe.

But now with Keigo sleeping so deeply? You took it all in.

You looked at the nearly black scarring where the roots of his wings were. The fanning out of puckered, red skin from the burns. His back, which once rippled with the muscles that controlled his crazily powerful wings, was now a charred plain. 

...

You had an awful, far-fetched, fucked up idea. 

You sat, sinking into the bed as you contemplated your idea.

You brought your hands to your face, concentrating on your fingertips. 

Small, tiny vines and green shoots left your fingers.

There’s absolutely no way that this will work.

But, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t try.

 Life reclaimed life, you supposed. 

You drummed up a half-assed plan. It was a weak, frail idea— it would need a lot of support. Even then, you didn’t want to give yourself false hope. You couldn’t give Keigo false hope. It would ruin him.

...

You’d have to fix your diet. Eat lots of nutrient-rich food. Take more vitamins too.

You slotted yourself next to Keigo who, in sensing your warmth, turned into you, pressing into your front. His head nuzzled into your chest, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

You heard him wince at the motion, flinching in his sleep.

You had to try. 

One of your hands went to his back, brushing down the comforter to reveal the particularly gnarly scars where Keigo had lost part of himself. You laid your hand flat on the fire-flayed skin, praying you don’t wake him. You concentrated, watching small greenery go from your fingers to his flesh, desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done. 

 ------------------------------------

 Keigo apologized to you the next morning. He clutched your chest and told you how sorry he was. He told you how he knows he’s acting out, he’s just so fucking sad—

You told him that he didn’t need to justify himself. Not to you. Though, you accepted his apology and asked him to not say those kinds of things to you again.

“I’m trying my best, and I know it's not enough sometimes... but it's all I’ve got,” You speak to him in your own small voice. One that portrayed a weakness that you hadn’t shown since Keigo had been injured.

He felt even guiltier. 

 But, the second week was better.

His exercises were getting easier. Eating came a little better too. You started cooking more, not getting as much takeout. Part of him missed the comfort of familiar street foods, but another part of him craved the home-cooked meals you made so much more. They helped him feel better too, packed with veggies and lean proteins. 

Keigo didn’t notice, he was far too out of it, but you were already looking more haggard. 

It came with using your quirk in general, let alone to the extent you were pushing it. It was a pitiful quirk and you’d never strained it half as far as you were then. 

It had a price. 

To heal others, even something as small as a paper cut would take from your own body.

And, you were dedicating at least thirty minutes a night to attempting to ‘heal’ (read: reconstruct) the tissue of Keigo’s back. You had to start so deep in his muscles; it hurt to push your quirk that far down. Within the first five minutes, that first night you tried, you were silently crying from exertion.

But, you didn’t relent.

Each day, it was a little easier.

Sure, you had bad nights where it was extra hard. You blamed it on not eating well enough, using up too much of yourself during the day. 

It was a shitty excuse, notably. Your quirk was weak and self-destructive, it was beyond your bodily capabilities. There was no way to tell if it was even working to heal Keigo’s body. It was a gamble. 

And your wager was your health and body.

Even eating optimally and taking a bevy of new vitamins each morning before Keigo awoke, you could tell your physical health was suffering. You were losing a bit of fat already. Dark circles were punched under your eyes from the exhaustion. You had developed the slightest shake when you moved.

And the worst part was, you knew that you’d only get weaker from here on out.

So, you upped your calorie intake. You kept careful track of the foods you ate, the same with Keigo’s. He didn’t seem to mind the delicious meals you now coveted crafting, no matter how tired you were. If he was eating better, it would probably help you too, right?

You could only hope, resting it all on a long shot. 

 --------------------------

 Week three was good, but hard. 

The HPSC commission forced Keigo to do a media appearance. He told them, bluntly, that he couldn’t fake it right now. Probably, forever. 

They told him to suck it up, get out there, and put some hope into their society that was being pulled apart at the seams.

Keigo refused to let you come. He didn’t want to think about how you’ll look at him when he’s all dressed in his hero uniform, wings absent from his back, forcing him to bear the two empty slots of his jacket. 

When he mentioned it, you offered to sew them up.

Keigo felt horrible, but he just gave a nod, handing you his jacket without looking at you. 

You stitched the slits shut for him. Keigo requested red thread for the stitching and you obliged him.

 (You made note that Keigo truly had no hope. You couldn’t tell him a thing about your quirk usage until you were positive that it would have results.) 

 The media appearance went okay. Not great, but okay. ‘Hawks’ was dead, and Keigo was not a performer like he was. Though he still went by his hero name, his real name only known by himself, the Commission, Dabi (may he rot in hell), and you. He coveted that you had the intimacy in knowing his identity, but it felt dirtier now that Dabi (Touya?) had that name in his throat as well.

 When Keigo came home from the media appearance, he was keyed up. He flitted around the apartment while you made dinner. There was an anxiousness in his movements.‘Hawks’ would’ve taken to the skies to fly off some of this fractious energy. Keigo just had to wait for food to be ready and pray that the feelings went away. 

Just before dinner, he decided to try exercises outside of the one his physical therapist assigned him. He was feeling energetic enough, right? Might as well pull out some of the easier moves from his hero training. 

Keigo moved to his now seldom-used at home gym. He picked up a dust-covered five-pound weight and proceeded to try and curl it. The moment Keigo brought it above his head, his back tensed and burned something fierce.

The weight fell from Keigo’s hand, half-thrown, luckily missing any and all of his toes and feet. 

He cried in frustration, stuck staring at himself in the wall of mirrors. 

Keigo truly thought he looked pitiful.

He was still wearing his hero uniform sans the jacket. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass with his more sedentary state. His hair was too long. He had gotten more pale, losing his few freckles. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth curl over his lips in a snarl—

“Keigo?” You opened the door to the gym, eyes wide with shock, but your tone didn’t change. He just glowered at you from the mirrors. You spoke again, staring him down with an almost scarily neutral poker face. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat? Otherwise, I can save it for you.”

Keigo didn’t reply. He went back to trying to pick up the weight, screaming each time and hating how his back burned so intensely.

You left without saying anything. 

 ---------------------------

 Week four was hard because you and Keigo’s relationship is beginning to suffer. Or, it had been, but it was reaching a fever pitch. 

Keigo’s lack of human contact, lack of physical activity, and general cabin fever were getting to him. He was lashing out more and you, kind as you were, were having trouble dealing with it.

Your own run downstate was eating you alive, literally. No matter how much you put into your body, you needed more to heal Keigo. You were up to two hours a night of working at Keigo’s tissue with your quirk. By the end of your ‘sessions’, you would simply pass out and fall into listless slumber. You were losing a lot of sleep each night, but you were determined to keep going. 

Your exhaustion, in general, was making you a bit more prickly towards Keigo’s increasing frequent outbursts.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night.

The two of you were curled up on the couch, half-cuddling and half-watching TV.

A notice for breaking news showed red on the screen.

Both of you tensed. Before Keigo’s injury, he’d be rushing to throw on his hero gear and fly to help. Now, he just sat next to you, stiff as a board with pin-pricked pupils.

A picture, pre-PLF injury Endeavor flashed on screen.

“The Hero Public Safety Commission has just made the press release the former number one hero, Endeavor, is no longer in comatose.”

You watched a real, happy smile, spread on Keigo’s face. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope—

“But, he still remains in critical condition. Due to injuries affecting his central nervous system, he is reported as being in a state of paralysis. As of now, his life still hangs in the balance, though he is lucid.”

Keigo stiffened again.

There was rage painting his face. 

And pain. 

You stiffened with him.

You did not have it in you that night to deal with one of Keigo’s explosive moments. 

“Endeavor has left us all with this message—”

The camera flashed to an old video of the old ‘number one hero’, healthy and strong with a fist raised in the air.

You braced for impact as Keigo stood, shoulders hunching over.

Endeavors voice washed over your living room,

“Go Plus Ultra!”

And Keigo, honest to god, shrieked.

He fell to his knees and beat the floor beneath him. He slammed his fists in the hardwood over, and over, and over again. You slipped to the ground with him, trying to grab at his fists.

“Keigo, you’re gonna hurt yourself—” You tried to tell him. You managed to capture one of his fists, urging it to stay down-

But, you looked up to see Keigo giving a feral look with a frenzied, white-hot sneer all for you. 

 And his free fist flew towards you. It connected hard and solidly to your jaw.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Keigo had never struck you before, not even close. For fucks sake, he had never even raised his voice at you before his injury.

So, how could you expect to brace yourself for it?

The force of Keigo’s blow knocked you back. You jolted, falling onto your side and turning your head to the side, away from Keigo.

You brought a hand up to cup and shield your face, your jaw and eye socket throbbing. 

All you could feel was shock.

And sadness.

And horror.

And anger.

And terror.

 Keigo snapped out of it.

The news report was still playing, but he couldn’t hear it.

There was only the rushing of blood in his ears.

His mouth turned bone dry.

He had watched you move with his strike, falling more to the ground, hiding yourself—

“Oh my g-god, (Y/N),” Keigo’s voice was slippery and warbling. “I-I d-didn’t—” 

“No,” You stood up, still holding and hiding your face from him. His heart was crumbling in his chest.

You looked at him with only fear and heartbreak.

Keigo scrambled up, trying to apologize, hold you, mend this before it got worse—

But you put the hand that wasn’t cupping your face out, just barely touching his chest. You refused to let him any closer. 

“H-hey Kei’?” Your voice sounded so, so shaky. It’s hardly there. You were holding back tears and it was so obvious. It made every part of Keigo burn with shame. “I can’t today. Maybe another day, I could deal with this, y-ya know? But not today, okay? Have a g-good night.”

You walked away before he could say anything else.

 You dashed off to the guest room, shutting and locking the door before falling against it and breaking. You cried and rocked yourself as you tried to self-soothe your shattered body and mind. 

The month prior had been so hard. The person you love was hurt so deeply, and though you were trying with everything you had to help, it didn’t seem like enough. You were getting verbally beat up semi-frequently and now Keigo had fucking hit you. 

You were scared. You were terrified that this would become the norm. That Keigo’s outbursts would continue to worsen, as they had been, and you would become a physical punching bag for him.

It especially hurt because you were trying so hard to help Keigo. 

You weren’t delusional enough to think you could really fix him, were you? 

The fact that you were secretly and silently trying to regenerate Keigo’s body with a quirk he didn’t even know you had struck you bluntly in your mind.

“I’m just so fucked up, aren’t I?” You laughed and sobbed to yourself at the same time, slamming your head backward on the door, relishes the pain that floods your skull. It was a reprieve from the bruises blooming across your cheekbone. 

You eventually managed to cry yourself to sleep, literally. You curled up in a ball on the floor next to the door, worn down to the bone.

 In the early morning, far before dawn, you pulled yourself into half-wakefulness. 

You were relentless and you were coming to hate yourself for it.

You needed to work on Keigo, no matter how you shitty felt.

You crept into the master bedroom, trying to be silent. You didn’t want to wake him. Only when you were fully in the room did you notice a soft lamp is still on despite it being early, early morning. 

Wide awake and upright, Keigo looked horrified to see you. He looked at you, shaking and half-sobbing into a pillow he clutched to his chest.

You both seemed shocked to see each other. 

You sniffled as you turned off the lamp, stripping down to just a t-shirt and panties before climbing into your side of the bed.

You refused to face him while he was awake. You got as comfortable as you could (which wasn’t much). 

There was half an hour of disgustingly awkward silence. It coated the room, bearing the two of you who refused to sleep. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Keigo had yet to move. He was frozen in place as you were turned away from him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Silence.

Your mouth felt dry and your mind parched. 

“Keigo,” You spoke like a being empty. You truly felt like it too. “If you ever touch me like that again, I will do worse than just leave you.”

It was a threat.

You let yourself have it, in all of this. You deserved one low blow. 

Keigo slowly slid down into the covers, babbling apologies and beginning to cry again. 

“Stop, Kei’,” You finally turned towards him, cupping his face. He blinked at you, eyes wide and glassy. “I love you. Just stop. Apologizing doesn’t make something like this better. I can’t do this if you keep hurting me, you know that. Just be better.”

Keigo winced at that. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

You fell asleep on each other that night. You let your headrest nestled up against Keigo’s chest. He breathed softly above you, arms wrapped securely around you, holding you tightly like he was afraid you’d leave. You wouldn’t. You made the decision to stay at the beginning of all this. Your threats would always be empty. 

Idly, you had an arm thrown over Keigo’s waist, snaking up the back of his shirt to press your fingertips against his scars. Your roots and greenery didn’t have to go as deep now, as far as you could tell.

But, it had been a month with no discernable progress, visual or otherwise. 

But, you held onto hope. 

Because you had to hold onto hope that Keigo would get better. 

All of him.

 -------------------------------

      The second month was... different. 

Keigo tried with his whole heart to earn back your trust.

You flinched at him for the first week or so. 

He hated himself so fucking much each time you did. But, he never blamed you. He couldn’t.

(Even as you twitched away from him in the daylight, you tirelessly worked on his scars in his sleep. You couldn’t give up, no matter how awful you felt). 

Keigo did his exercises several times a day. He made a few more media appearances but refused to be seen with Endeavor. He (and truthfully, the Commission) knew that he could not psychologically handle it.

You were rapidly getting weaker, but you didn’t care. You ate more, slept when you could, and pushed on. You were up to three hours of healing a night. Tears rolled down your cheeks the whole time.

You were clinging to the prayer that you could unburn Keigo’s back like it would save you from your personally made hell. 

This was despite the fact he was already crawling out of the pit himself. 

 Your existence was eased slightly as Keigo was starting to help out more. 

Keigo wasn’t anywhere near normal— normal Keigo was dead in a disintegrated building, miles from your shared home. But, he was getting better.

 His muscles felt better. He wasn’t sure how, but they did. His PT exercises must’ve been working. The outbursts he had thrown so often during the first month pittered out to maybe once or twice a week. They were calmer now. You were still his anchor, of course, that was undeniable. But, it was mostly crying and clutching and not screaming and breaking.

It was a welcome shift.

Most of the time, Keigo would pull you into his lap and wrap you in his embrace. Softly, he’d sway and rock the two of you, like he was trying to lull and calm not just himself, but you in tandem.

A lot of the time, this was true. 

Your flinching subsided and Keigo had no more close calls with any physical violence towards you. In a few high strung moments, he still snapped at you. He’d apologize, and do better. At least, you told yourself that. That’s how you saw it anyways. 

Keigo was thoroughly traumatized. His mind was an open nerve and that had consequences. You were so endlessly tired. What kind of wounds and trauma were you incurring?

You forced yourself not to think about it. 

 Part of you, during this month, wanted to simply pack a bag and leave without a trace. 

But, you stayed with Keigo. You stayed determined. 

(Or, you stayed out of spite. On your bad days, you really had trouble figuring it out.)

Your body looked like shit. You were endlessly glad Keigo still wasn’t in a position to be having any sort of sex because he probably would’ve noticed how fucked up your body was getting.

You shook constantly, always quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Your skin bruised with almost any contact beyond light touch. Your eyes, once vibrant and expressive, had sunk in. 

Your body, no matter the several thousand extra calories you forced yourself to eat a day, still ran through your fat reserves. It was leeching muscle from you. It made your joints feel raw. 

 It almost hurts that you noticed how Keigo is so pained, but he didn’t notice you falling apart.

 -----------------------

      The third month was when shit hit the fan.

It was near the end of the month. 

You were doing so badly. You stretched yourself far beyond your body's abilities. 

You felt particularly sick, but you needed to get groceries. Keigo couldn’t himself for a host of reasons, which made it your job. You kissed him on the cheek as you left for the market.

Meanwhile, Keigo’s physical therapist dropped by for a check-in appointment. 

Keigo did his exercises beautifully. He had to admit, his muscles didn’t ache in nearly the same way they used to. They only really hurt when the weather changed, like he was some old, arthritic man. 

“Wow!” His therapist gasped, watching him complete his exercises. “It’s looking great, Hawks. It looks like you’ve gained back a lot of strength.”

The small amount of praise made him beam as he sat up. 

“I just want to check the actual wounds around your back, if that’s alright? Just feel the scar tissue,” The therapist asked. Keigo bit his lip, slowly pulling off his tee-shirt. He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s hands being that close to the intimate roots of his dead wings. 

But, it was necessary.

Keigo faced his back to her.

All he got was an audible gasp as the therapist’s hands traced at his spine.

“The progress back here- Hawks this is insane,” The other was alight, pressing a thumb somewhere near the root. It hardly even hurt. “The scar tissue— it’s not gone, but it's a lot more tender than it should be. Like it's actually healing.”

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt so bad?” Keigo asked, letting a few slivers of joy light him up from the inside out. During his initial prognosis, multiple doctors had said that he was going to be on fire for years, not months. 

The therapist nodded, “Looks like it. Even the scarring on the surface looks pretty good. Must have some damn good genes to be healing like this.”

The two laughed, Keigo feeling more lighthearted than he had in months. 

 You, on the other hand, were greatly struggling. 

You were so, so fucking cold; yet another bi-product of your overextension. You were wrapped in an oversized cardigan on top of one of Keigo’s mock necks. You couldn’t stop trembling as you try to shop as quickly and effectively as possible. Anything to get you home as soon as possible. 

You had a great deal of difficulty doing this, though.

If you moved too fast, your vision blacked out. It had been like that for a while, a week or two. You’d lost track. You figured it was your iron, maybe blood pressure. 

It was an easy thing to hide at home, but much harder in public.

You reached for something high on a metal shelf, tossing it into your cart. You needed another item, on the bottom shelf. You dropped to your knees, your body aching and rolling.

Almost done.

So close. 

Then you can go home and rest.

You stood up too fast. Your vision went black ringed for a second. You stumble, trying to catch yourself as you lost sight. 

You felt weightless for a moment, spinning, Though your limbs felt weighed down, impossible to move. As your vision returned, its field wouldn’t move, pointed up at the ceiling of the crowded market. 

There were people speaking, shouting around you.

Alarmed.

Speaking to you?

You didn’t care.

You were so, so tired.

You let your eyes slip shut.

 ------------ 

 Keigo had been waiting for you for several hours longer than it took to go grocery shopping, sure. And, to have you gone from the apartment so long made him itch too. It had been eating him, making him pace around. You hadn’t been answering your phone either. He figured you had made a detour and let your phone die.

 When he received a call from the local civilian hospital about you, he feels his blood freeze in his veins. 

“You’re listed here as (Y/N)’s emergency contact as a partner, yes?” The nurse asked. “They collapsed at a local market. They’re stable, but we’d recommend coming to the hospital as soon as you’re able to.” 

Keigo nodded, head swimming.

You’re hurt.

You’re safe, but you’re hurt.

...

Keigo was whisked to the back of the hospital in a poor disguise. He gets recognized, given some extra security. The scar that marred his face was enough of a marker even if he didn’t have wings. He hardly cared. He couldn’t. 

Your door opened to a very dark room, soft beeps and hums filling it. 

He imagined that he must've been feeling close to how you felt, seeing him in such a similar position those few months ago.

The nurse enters ahead of him, clicking around on a tablet to pull up your chart.

Keigo could hardly pay attention. He felt like he was going to die, seeing you like that.

You had an IV, pushing fluids into your thinned arms. Your face was hollow looking, sockets sunken, especially with your eyes closed like they were. You had several blankets on you, piled over you. Yet, you were still visibly shivering.

The nurse whispered, “They’ve been asleep for a while now. A doctor will be in soon. Just sit tight.”

She left the room while Keigo pulled a chair up to your bed. 

The smell of the hospital burned his nose. It reminded him far too much of his own time. All that pain. 

The ache in his back flared, but he figured it was somatic.

 Keigo reached out as he sat, holding one of your frail-looking hands in both of his own (had you looked this purely death stricken this morning? Keigo couldn’t recall either way, and he hates himself for it).

Your eyes slowly opened.

 Keigo met your gaze, breath caught in both of your throats.

Neither of you got a chance to speak, not a moment of fucking comfort, before a doctor barged in, flipping through your chart with a bored look on his face.

“We finished up your testing. Lucky for you, no concussion or fractures from your fall,” The doctor nods. He doesn’t even seem to notice Keigo, or rather, Hawks. “The rest of your results aren’t looking so great though.”

Your hand stiffened violently in Keigo’s grip. Your face went from worn and exhausted to filled with terror and... guilt?

 You were fucked.

The doctors and nurses had mentioned to you that they were fairly certain that all of your symptoms came from quirk overuse. You started weakly crying at that, your nurses looking confused. You didn’t elaborate then. You knew, the moment you woke up in the hospital that you were going to have to confront your own damage to your body.

You were going to be forced to explain it.

To Keigo.

The doctor continued. 

“Low levels of nearly all essential vitamins and minerals. Particularly low iron, magnesium, and potassium. In general, your test results and physical state would lead me to think you’re suffering from malnutrition. But, your panel shows that your metabolic rate is actually going abnormally quickly in a way that could only be linked to-”

Wait for it.

“Quirk overuse-”

Keigo barked out a laugh, letting go of your hand, “I’m sorry, but what? They’re quirkless, it has to be something else.”

 You didn’t say anything. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, are trained on your lap. You’re taking sharp, quick breaths.

You’re going to have to tell him everything.

 The doctor flips through your chart again, shaking his head and bringing it over for Keigo to look at, “I apologize if this seems out of turn, but they’re listed in the public files as having a quirk... It’s marked as a weak healing quirk, but all the same, any strength of quirk has overuse.”

Keigo is stone still.

There’s tension so thick in the air of the room that the doctor excuses himself. 

 Keigo, for months now, had been in a traumatized stupor. His normally sharpened senses, aided by his wings, were the key to so much of his cunning. Both his physical and mental states were affected, which had made him less observant.

It had caused him to disregard so much. 

 But now, in your stupid, acrid hospital room, he was quickly putting it together. 

His back burned again. 

 You felt frozen. You couldn’t force yourself to move. You couldn’t do anything other than look at your lap and roll in your head. Your body hurt so bad, your head hurt too, and so did your fucking heart.

 “Can I clarify? Because I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”  Keigo had physically moved away from you. He leaned back in his chair, staring down with a mix of expressions you couldn’t suss out. It made you feel even sicker.

You nodded.

“Breath, (Y/N),” Keigo reminded you. He watched you take a massive inhale, followed by tears beginning to gather. You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 “Have you been... using your quirk on me? Without me knowing?” Keigo asked, trying to keep his voice firm, but truthfully, it wanted to waver and bend so badly. “Please be honest.”

You nod, breaking down to rub at your eyes. 

Keigo doesn’t stop the instinctual way he moved towards you, leaning over your bed and wrapping his arms around me.

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head, he broke the illusion:

“Please tell me what’s going on. Please.”

And so, you did.

It came out tearfully, you spilling and cracking as you did. You felt stupid and guilty and awful, but at least you were out of this fucked up lie. 

It all poured out of you. Your fear and your desperation were all laid out and Keigo was reading the cards.  

You explained that your quirk has always been weak in addition to taxing on the body. Hence, you had seldom, if ever, used it as an adult. You were effectively quirkless and you were okay with that. Keigo had never asked so you never told him. 

You tell him, voice shaking, what happened the night Keigo had pleaded with you to kill him.

“I-I, Kei’,” You push out, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do. You were so hurt and so sad and I had this stupid fucking idea that maybe, maybe I could use to my quirk to heal you.”

Keigo’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me? Ask me?”

“I didn’t know if it would work. I still don’t know if it does. It didn’t wanna... I didn’t want to get your hopes up. E-especially since it would’ve been coming from me.” You pressed harder into him like you’re scared of him disappearing. “You were already so crushed.”

Keigo didn’t know what to say. There was a swirl of emotions bubbling and writhing in his body and mind and he didn’t know what to say for the first time in a long time.

 So he didn’t say anything.

Keigo sat back in his chair, putting his elbows to his knees, using folded hands to rest his head on, parsing through his own feelings.

“K-Keigo?” You asked, wiping a tear away. As much as Keigo hated seeing you like this, he also recognized your state was by your hand. 

Right?

“Sweetheart, I love you—” Keigo stopped himself, sighing deep in his chest. “But, I can’t... I just need some time.”

 You nodded, tears coming back to drip down your face.

Keigo just watched with a neutral expression.

 -----------------

 Despite not being able to handle talking to you, Keigo was more than willing to help you out of the hospital. You were discharged with a prescribed diet and vitamins as well as a followup appointment in a few weeks. 

“And, most importantly,” The doctor made eye contact with you. “Don’t use that quirk of yours until further notice. Honestly, with it being so destructive, I can’t understand why you would in the first place.”

You burned with shame.

The night you came back from the hospital, Keigo took incredible care of you. He didn’t talk much during it, not to you anyways. He was nearly constantly speaking under his breath, all unintelligible. From his tone and myriad of expressions, you guessed he was verbally processing. 

Keigo gingerly gave you a bath, scrubbing away the smells and stickiness of the hospital. He managed to cook you one of the nutritious recipes you had shown him a few weeks ago. You sheepishly had to ask for another portion, explaining how your metabolism burned so quickly.

“Have...” Keigo finally spoke while making you another plate. “Have you always been eating this much?”

You nodded, sipping your water, “For a long time, yes.”

He hated himself for not noticing such obvious things. 

 Keigo kept carrying you from place to place, no matter how much his back hurt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t.

He laid you in bed at some point, sliding in next to you. He still hadn’t spoken much since you’d left the hospital. 

You had tried to babble apologies and beg for forgiveness, but selfishly, Keigo wasn’t listening. He was trapped in his own head. Even when you clung to him in the bath, he could hardly make himself hold you up from sliding too far into the water. 

It almost hurt to touch you.

 It was late when Keigo finally verbally, directly regarded you. 

“Why?” Keigo asked. You’re both turned away from each other. The bed had been vibrating with your harsh breathing and crying for an hour or so now. “Why did you do all this?”

You stop shaking, but only for a moment.

Your voice is so soft, weak, “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Keigo could hear the anger in his voice. “Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

You’re silent for a moment. 

And then you’re sitting up, yelling.

“Because I didn’t know what else to fucking do!” You gripped your hair at the roots, pulling. “You asked me to fucking kill you, Keigo! You begged me to!”

Keigo sat up, staring you down. He felt so much anger and rage in him, it was bubbling up, “That doesn’t mean you had to hurt yourself like this for me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt myself! I wanted to help you! Using my quirk was all I could do!” You looked over at him, digging your nails into your exposed thighs. “What else was I supposed to do!”

“Exactly what I thought you were doing, helping me!” Keigo screamed back at you. “You were doing so good at it!”

“You wanna know why I could even help?!” You shouted. You grabbed Keigo’s shoulders and brought him inches away from your face. “Because, every night, I got to give myself just a shred of hope that you would get better. That maybe, maybe your wings would come back and you’d smile like you used to instead of yelling at me, and hitting me, and asking me, begging me, to slit your fucking throat!”

 You couldn’t stop crying. Your body was so run down, so depleted, but it still musters up the energy to drip tears like a flooded creek. You wanted to run and leave the bed, retreat to the bathroom where you can break down on the tile in peace, alone where Keigo wouldn’t have to watch. You’d done it enough prior to know he wouldn’t check on you.

 Keigo stared at you with wide eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say at first

He was feeling so much—

 Keigo didn’t know what to do or say.

So, he just twisted the knife, one could say.

 “You should’ve just left if you were really that miserable with me.” Keigo regretted it the moment it left his lips. You tense up, looking at him with a gaze he could only call broken.

 “No,” You grabbed your shoulders, rocking yourself. “No, Kei’, I couldn’t, I won’t—”

“Then stop complaining.” Keigo shrugged. God, this was awful, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? “You’re the one who stayed and tortured yourself. That’s on you.”

“So you’d rather have that I... left?”

“Duh,” Keigo laughed, staring down your crying form. You’re so decrepit in your current state. He hated looking at you, purely because he knows he was at least a portion of what led to this. But, he’d never admit it. “Fuck, (Y/N), you didn’t have to kill me, and you didn’t have to kill yourself either.” 

 He’s splitting inside as he watches you break in front of him. Some fucked up, sadistic part of him relishes it. The other, muted, more sane part is screaming at him to stop fucking talking-

“You really got yourself hospitalized for overusing a quirk on me that I didn’t even know you had. You were so desperately trying to get me my wings back, all while acting soooo supportive of me trying to live without them?!” Keigo bellowed at you. You cowered, bent legs beginning to slide off the bed — “Do you realize how fucked up that is? That, behind closed doors, while I was fucking asleep, you were trying to fix me? Well, guess what, (Y/N), I’m broken beyond fucking repair, and no cute little shit you pull is going to fix me!”

Keigo shrieked his last words.

You fell off the bed, slamming onto the floor. A sickening crack filled the room as your head, basically unsupported, met the hardwood.

 “Stop it!” You were screaming yourself silly from the floor. Your head hurt so badly. Maybe you were bleeding. You didn’t care. “Stop it!”

You knew you couldn’t handle this.

You were raw. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t confront any more than you had already that day. Your body hurt so badly and your mind hurt too. Everything Keigo said just rubbed salt in the wounds he helped to create.

“Keigo, just fucking stop it!”

Your vision spun. You thought that maybe you were hyperventilating. You couldn’t feel your hands, numbness beginning to pull at your extremities. 

“I’m fucking sorry!” You wailed. “What would do if you were in my position, Keigo?! Just watch me suffer and not do anything even if you could?!”

Keigo leaned over the bed, giving you the most empty look you’d ever seen him wear. 

“I would’ve just fucking left, (Y/N),” He spoke in a monotone, eyes like dead coals. “I would’ve just left.”

You stared up at him.

This horrible feeling had filled you from toes to top and you couldn’t escape it.

 Keigo didn’t say anything else as you panicked on the floor. He simply got up, left for the guest room, and slammed the door.

 Neither of you ever felt as awful as you did that night.

 --------------------

 Keigo didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did you.

 He figured (he hoped) you’d be gone by the morning. Maybe you would just pack your dusty suitcase and get the fuck out.

...

Truthfully, not a single fragment of Keigo wanted you to leave. No piece of him wanted you to go out of his life. God, if he really thought about it, the prospect of not being side-by-side in this world together threw him into bends of anxiety and pure grief. 

Truthfully, as Keigo silently, tearfully, examined your actions, he felt his anger ebb away.

He understood. 

Why you did what you did.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

Guilt was eating him, too. For all the horrible things he had said. The things he’d done that hurt you without regard for months now. The fact he never noticed you deteriorating. And all the nights you crept back into your shared room, for comfort and to keep trying to help him, though perhaps cruelly. 

 It was dawn when Keigo exited the guestroom. He figured that you were either gone or would be soon.

He was clearly mistaken.

Keigo stopped when he saw you at the kitchen table, head down, and resting on your folded arms. You were wearing a huge sweater, one of his, and a blanket around your shoulders.

Keigo had, incredibly selfishly, somewhat forgotten your physical state.

He ached.

 “I made coffee,” You said quietly. You looked up, meeting Keigo’s gaze with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s still warm.”

“Why are you here?” Keigo asked, heart starting to beat too fast again. “Why haven’t you left-?”

“Do you really want me to leave?” You asked with an unfamiliar edge to your voice. It’s not anger or malice, but something different. You stand, bracing yourself on the table, wobbling. Keigo wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and apologize. But, he doesn’t. 

 You looked at him with this edge of fierce determination, asking the penultimate question, the core of this all, “Keigo, do you want me to leave because of my actions, or do you want me to leave because you don’t think you deserve help?”

There was a poignant quiet over the apartment. 

The birds of the new day interrupted it from outside, chirping with the eos of dawn.

“I don’t think... I—” Keigo was speechless again, stuttering. “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself so bad.”

“That’s been established, I went too far. I should’ve told you, offered and asked, and go from there. It ultimately was a complete breach of boundaries and for that, I’m sorry. Fuck my good intentions, it was selfish.” You squeezed the edge of the table, eyes low. Your gaze turned up sharply to meet his, that edge of determination and fierceness in it that Keigo was unfamiliar with. “My question is, do you want me to leave?”

Keigo stared at his feet. His head was swimming, “You should leave.”

“I asked if you want me to,” You asked again. You were being more firm than you had ever been. You sounded unbreakable. It was that stubbornness that kept you there with him, right?

Keigo met your eyes with a sharp glare, “You should’ve left the night I asked you to kill me.”

You sighed, shaking visibly, but still keeping yourself so strong, “Please just answer me. Do you want me to leave? If we’re going to break up, let’s just call it that, and get it over with, okay Kei’?”

Oh, hearing you say ‘breakup’—

That broke Keigo. 

Having to truly think and reckon with a reality where you weren’t with him and you weren’t facing the horrors of the world together was purely the stuff of nightmares. 

The stupid little facade Keigo had so carefully crafted broke. The burns on his body started to ache anew, somatically. The scar over his eye twitched as tears were gathering anew. 

“N-no,” Keigo hugged himself, shaking his head. “N-no— I don’t want you to go—” 

You didn’t say anything, just watched him with a sad expression.

“Then I won’t.” You sat back down. “Keigo, I know that this is all fucked beyond belief. I know. But, I won’t leave. I really, really don’t want to. I won’t, not unless you want me to go.”

And Keigo was breaking for you again. 

He somehow stumbled next to your chair, managing to fall to his knees and rest his head on your cold, cold thigh. He pressed his nose into your flesh, trying to fucking absorb your smell like you could disappear any moment. 

“Why did you do it-” Keigo sobbed into your skin, nails biting in the flesh of your calves. It made you jerk in your seat. “WHY DID YOU HURT YOURSELF FOR ME!”

You didn’t have a good answer for him, so you didn’t reply. 

Keigo’s grip on the flesh of his leg started to break skin as he wailed into your leg.

You just looked down at him with this expression of pure remorse,  melancholy coloring your eyes.

You grabbed his clawed-hands, recalling the last time you tried a move like this with a twitch. You held his hands in your own, pulling him up, “You can’t do that, Keigo. You’re hurting me.”

“All I DO is hurt YOU!” Keigo crushed you into a tight hug, knocking the wind from you. You jolt forward into his death grip. 

 “It was my choice,” You remind him, so much weakness in your choice. “A very, very selfish one. If I was going to try to heal you, I should’ve asked.”

You started crying with him. 

You both were just torturing yourselves, truthfully. 

 At his core, Keigo was a fucked up man who was so thoroughly repressed and manipulated, it was hard to see his psychological shortcomings. They were all so meticulously hidden. 

But not then, not after losing his wings.

“I’m so fucked up,” Keigo kept crying into you as you had his hands locked together. “I hate myself for being this upset at you when you were trying to help me.”

“Love,” Your voice was so soft, releasing Keigo’s hands to pet his hair. “It wasn’t right for me to try and do what I did. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I could before I lost them!” Keigo muffled himself with your flesh.

Them being his wings, obviously. 

You hauled him upwards, forcing him to sit in your lap. Keigo had always had a bit of size on you, but in your shrunken state, it was even more pronounced. 

“Then you weren’t feeling,” You pressed your face to Keigo’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He entangled himself with you, and you both just held each other for a long, long time.

 ------------------------

In the following six months, a many very important things happen.

Keigo got a place for you for two entire months, just so you two have some separation. After actually having a calm talk about your relationship dynamic since Keigo’s injury, it was comically apparent there were so many fucked up things that had happened and that you both needed a bit of time to collect yourselves.

It was a hard separation, but you still see each other at least half of the days of your time apart, and even a few that you snuck over for the night to stay over. Keigo was so, so thankful. Being wrapped in each other was a different experience, something actually healing. 

You both got therapists, next. A couples therapist too. 

Thank God. 

Keigo had oodles of trauma to sort through, and you had your own shit to deal with as well. Not to mention the whole ‘Keigo being a dick to you because he was hurt doesn’t justify it’ kinda broke your brain for a second. Also, Keigo having to process ‘he was capital A abusive to you after he got hurt, and your only stability being the hope in healing you is much more complicated than just them trying to ‘fix’ you’ was a case of note. 

It was weird, really. 

 When you moved back, fully, to Keigo’s (you weren’t sure if you could call it ‘your’ apartment anymore), it was nerve-wracking. It was under the understanding that you could move out if you needed to, that separation and an ending were just a corner away.

It made you feel more unstable than you had in months, but you kept up with it. 

Keigo noticed, much more observant than he had been. About two weeks into you returning to the apartment, he asked the question, “What if we moved?”

You had been quietly eating your breakfast, but this startled you, “Move? Why?”

“I mean,” Keigo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to the living room, recalling the times he broke down and was so awful to you. It shifted to the bedroom door where you broke boundaries over and over. “A lot of bad stuff happened here. If we’re going to have a fresh start, might as well live somewhere new, right?”

You mused on it for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah, that would be good.”

The next few weeks were the most healthy and productive that you and Keigo ever had, pre- or post-injury. Apartment hunting turned into purchasing a two-floored, highrise, insanely nice condo across the city. Keigo suggested buying a house, but you refused. You both liked the views too much to live somewhere so close to the ground.

You packed your things, mutually. You both threw away plenty, bits and bobs that had been relatively unused for a long time. Lots of old memories were thrown out to make way for new ones. Though it was sad and there was plenty of grief in it, you actually had each other this time. 

When you found Keigo sobbing, clutching an old picture of him and Touya, one of the only of him from his childhood with the Commission, you held him and rocked him. You cried with him, not just settling for ‘dealing’ with him anymore. 

When you cleaned out the kitchen, you found the two dozen extra vitamins and extracts you had been taking while healing Keigo. You stared at him, idly, for ten minutes, somewhere far off in your head. Keigo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Softly, he pulled you back from your mind. He helped you throw away each bottle, talking reverently to you so your gaze and mind would stay in that moment, and not those past and unsavory.  

You helped each other, or, were learning to.

 You and Keigo both had to agree that shopping for furniture was probably the most fun the two of you had in a while. With a facemask and a beanie on, Keigo appeared a lot less like his former self, allowing for the two of you to covertly search for new homewares without prying crowds.

The old apartment had originally been Keigo’s from his early years of being a hero. You simply moved in with him, adding yourself to his space. This time, you were making it together. 

 “What do you think of this one?” You turned to Keigo, next to you. Both of you laid on top of a fairly nice mattress, the store relatively empty aside from the employees and the two of you.

“I think it's good, it’s not too soft,” Keigo turned and smiled at you, speaking from behind his mask. 

You couldn’t help sitting up, tugging the cloth mask just a bit lower to drop a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth, “Get out the credit card then, babe.”

 The condo was sorted within a few weeks, full of furniture and slowly being decorated. 

You also had the opportunity to christen the mattress, if you will.

...

How long had it been since you and Keigo had laid together like this? 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and cum, several rounds having passed throughout the night. Your new mattress was going to need a fresh change of sheets after this.

“Hey, angel, come over here,” Keigo tugged you closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, pressing closer. You missed it, truly, the warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin on your own like this.

“Alright, check-in,” Keigo pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great,” You hummed, throwing a leg over his waist. “I can honestly keep going.”

“Should you?” Keigo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, nudging a knee between your legs. You flinched, knowing how sore you’d be in the morning already. 

Though your body had recovered somewhat, you weren’t fully back to where you were before Keigo’s injury. You didn’t mind, though. Keigo had taken to doting on you a bit more than he used to. 

You shrugged and Keigo just chuckled, bringing you ever-closer. 

“Are you okay?” You straddled Keigo’s hips, cocking your head to one side. 

Keigo was silent for a moment, stormy almost. He bit his lip, tracing hands and eyes over your figure, finally landing on your face. His softened hands cupped your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” His thumb rubbed over your lips. There’s something so melancholic about him. “I just missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by ‘miss’.

 It was a feeling beyond sex, but rather intimacy. Sure, Keigo had been balls deep in you for the first time in months and that was ecstasy you wouldn’t trade the world for. But, this feeling Keigo regarded was different.

It had been so long since the two of you had been so softened around each other.

Guards, after months of being raised high, had begun to fall.

  Thank God.

 Your eyes watered as you lowered your face to his, ghosting your lips over his, “I missed you too, Kei’. I missed you so, so much.”

 How many minutes of hell had your both endured? And how many were there still to go? Thoughts of fear and anguish constantly swirled within the two of you for so long. They certainly hadn’t stopped, but they were lessening. Therapy helped. Being in the new place with a fresh start did wonders for the two you. Keigo’s passion for cooking continued to grow and you had taken up a few new hobbies of your own. 

It was the mundane, you supposed, that was the stitching for broken relationships. The real healing of proverbial flesh and bone was intimacy, vulnerability, and love.

“Hey, Kei’,” You kissed him breathless, once, twice, three times. “I love you, you know? A lot.”

“Yeah?” Keigo giggled, something high and light that he wouldn’t have released a year ago. “I love you too. So much.”

 The night continued in tender fucking, the two of you visibly watching wounds begin to grow smaller and scar, no more fire, and no more forced stitchings. 

Salvation came from time and small things, you supposed, half-asleep and nestled neck to Keigo, feeling better than you had in a long time.  

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

     You supposed, some time later, that karma gave the two of you a small gift. In the eyes of all things, it must’ve been just a spec, but God, it was something. 

     ...

They had come back over a year and half from when you had tried to heal Keigo. 

The attempt wasn’t forgotten, no, but it certainly wasn’t at the forefront of your minds like it used to be. Except the one morning that Keigo got up before you, sleepily yawning his way to the bathroom.

You heard his sharp gasp, loud exclamations in your half asleep state.

“Babe?” Your voice hoarse with sleep, you spoke. “You okay?”

Keigo jumped onto the bed, straddling over you and the comforter. 

“(Y/N)!” Oh, his eyes were wet. Soft, gooey tears were streaming down his face as he shakily grabbed your wrists. He pressed them to the scars of his back.

Your eyes went wide as your hands brushed against small, soft feathers. 

“Keigo!” You shouted, sitting up, urging him to turn around so you could take a better look. 

Keigo trembled as he bared his back to you. 

Your breath caught as your hands trailed down his marred flesh.

The scars, old and worn now, had faded a great deal. The charred plain calmed with time, perhaps by your own touch and very much so by Keigo’s own cells and flesh.

But, in the center of his back, where the roots of his wings once were, was something growing anew.

Small, burgundy feathers were growing from spindly looking, down-covered bones and skin.

They were small, nothing like his old wings. More aged, with their darker color. The feathers felt softer as you ran your hands along the largest, no bigger than your hand from wrist to tip.

Keigo shuddered.

“Do... Do they feel like they used to?” You asked, transfixed.

Keigo shakily shook his head, “N-no, they feel less sensitive I think. They feel different.”

...

 As Keigo had healed and changed, so had his body.

His wings never grew to their own old size and power, not even close. They couldn’t support his own body weight, so Keigo never flew again. But, the feathers, wine-colored and almost bruised looking, could be sent to do small tasks, much like his old ones.  

At first, it seemed cruel. After so long and so much, his wings grew back but in such a decrepit form. For days, the two of you waited and waited to see what the final form of his regrowth would be. In the end, at their best, they stretched out to about the span of Keigo’s arms. The feathers weren’t symmetrical either, even at their peak regrowth. Some grew in fluffy and rounded, while others were jagged, sticking out awkwardly from the rest of his form. 

Over time, the inherent disappointment and despondence turned into appreciation.

Because they had come back, it just took time. 

...

With enough time, Keigo wore them proudly, no matter how oddly they stuck out from his marred skin. Keigo’s body was still too damaged to do hero work proper, but he still was kept around.

At the end of the day, the feathers colored like dried blood represented something far larger. If the completely destroyed number two hero could come back to even a fraction of his former, angelic glory, that was something, right?

It was like in the eyes of all things, you were both awarded a physical manifestation of healing. The gnarly wings that grew from Keigo’s body may have been off-putting to some, but to the two of you, it was a testament to it all.

It just took time. 

[sonderden]

My thoughts when I read various AI art discussions/discourse...

I think people are having two very different conversations about AI art and conflating them as one in the same, so I agree with most AI art opinions up to a point and when people reach that point I get very opinionated and defensive about said opinions. I hate corporations, I hate police forces and similar government agencies, I respect and appreciate small artists and shops, and I have strong feelings about art as a whole.

Agreements and disagreements specified under the cut:

"Corporations and government agencies are misusing AI in predatory and exploitative ways that we as a society should not allow."

I agree. The way police departments are using AI art filters to train their facial recognition software is a deplorable human rights violation and certain AI art companies trawling sites like DeviantArt and AO3 to train their AI without crediting any artists or authors used for said training or even overtly asking permission is an unforgivable act of exploitation.

"They can do this because AI is dangerously unregulated in terms of copyright and fair use laws, allowing both the theft of art and the theft and unethical use of personal information -- we as a society need to quickly address these regulation issues and make AI safer and more ethical to use."

Again, I agree. As odd as it is, the only company I trust to properly credit artists at the moment is Shutterstock due to the efforts they've been putting into figuring out the legality of using art for training purposes -- and even they might be more underhanded about said copyright legality research than I know. I think more companies should not only follow in their footsteps to put forth that amount of effort, but go beyond them to be as upfront and transparent about said efforts as possible. Companies should credit and pay all artists used to train their AI and probably give a small amount of royalties every time their art goes into a newly generated AI image. Artists deserve that much respect, credit, and compensation for their work.

"AI art actually endangers small artists who rely on commissions for income, since it allows people who would otherwise pay for art to simply generate AI images for free."

Again, I agree that this is a problem that needs addressing. The burden shouldn't be on small artists to adapt, but as the art world changes so must artists. Both the development of styles AI cannot duplicate and the integration of AI art into standard digital art should be explored in order to open more avenues of potential income for small artists. We should be able to make almost-perfect AI images, then pay small artists to edit them for us so they're actually perfect -- and we shouldn't be stingy about how much we pay in those situations, since matching an AI's style or converting its style to your own is a difficult task in either direction. We should never lose our respect for artists, and should help them to continue to thrive as technology advances.

"Honestly, we as a society shouldn't be using AI art programs at all because it's not even good art -- it's cheap and weak and can't compare to real human artists."

I concede that it's largely underdeveloped, it's come very far in a very short time but still has a long way to go before its flaws are properly ironed out. That said, I actually firmly believe that it shouldn't be discarded or mocked due to that lack of development. It is a tool we're still developing. We said that being able to draw on computers and tablets made things "too easy" and wasn't as legitimate as traditional art, but look how well we've learned to integrate those mediums while still having each stand on its own. We have whole art styles based in digital art now and for the most part our society recognizes those as legitimate forms of art. AI art may go the same way, and personally I love watching its progress. Seeing people use AI art as starting points, then refine those bases into something uniquely theirs is very fun to watch -- as is watching people who can't do art at all figure out how to expertly manipulate AI generators to create exactly what they envision. The effort put into refining AI art is really admirable and cool! It can become something amazing if we all decide to see it as a tool and use it accordingly -- provided we close the loopholes and areas of opportunity where companies and governments and assholes are currently exploiting it so that we can use it safely and ethically. That should definitely be a priority as AI moves forward.

"In fact, I actually hate AI 'art' because it's not even real! It has no soul or emotion, and those are what make art real. Only humans can put soul into art, anything an AI makes is just a hollow, imitative husk of a thing. It's a dirty scam!"

Alright, now we're getting into my personal biases. Now I want to reach through my screen and shake everyone saying this by the shoulders until they explain to me who made the AI in the first place and who is using the AI programs to create things and how they know whether a thing has soul in it or not. Humans put effort and thought and time into making AI programs and coding them to learn things, they put pieces of themselves into making that! Humans put thought and meaning into the things they make with AI art generators! They put effort and thought and feeling and time into that, even if it is unfathomably faster to do than if they'd drawn a thing from scratch! AI art does not lack soul! AI art does not lack emotion! Corporations using art for ads and agencies using art for surveillance warp the soul of a thing to fit their scummy purposes whether it was made by human hands or not, but AI art itself is not inherently soulless! I despise the use of quotes when people call it AI "art" instead of just AI art and I despise when they say it isn't real! A thing made with a specialized tool is still a real thing! A thing made because a person wanted to make it has a soul! It has emotion! Art cannot help but have a soul because living things have touched it at some point in its development! Are you implying every artist whose material was used to train the AI themselves created soulless art? Are you implying the theft of their work was meaningless and they shouldn't fight to be credited, because none of their emotion bled through into the AI image trained by their work at all? Are you implying that art is objective, and the feelings of the audience don't matter? I have put some of my own soul into every piece of art I have ever consumed, mingling with the soul of its creator(s), and AI art does not make this less possible! It only removes the names and credits of the souls that went into the pieces used to train the AI, and that removal is what I oppose! Not the art itself, its soul cannot be removed no matter how it gets warped! That is the nature of art in all forms! It has a soul in it whether we try to take it out or not! AI art is real art, as far as I'm concerned, and if you keep conflating the argument of whether it's ethical (the laws surrounding it are objectively not ethical and we must correct them before those in power go too far to be pulled back) with the argument of whether it's real (I clearly have a defined stance on this, but it's ultimately more subjective than the legal side of this conversation and you're not a morally wrong person or anything if you believe AI art is not real art you just get under my skin personally and we probably can't be friends) as if they are one in the same when they are in fact separate topics then I will shake you until you reach a desk and sit you down at that desk and make you draw and draw until you can tell me exactly what makes this art so much more real than AI art. I will make you describe to me exactly what threatens you about AI art until you can learn to differentiate between legal concerns of exploitation/surveillance and your own fear of not being able to keep up with those who are using newer tools than yours.

I may not die on this hill, but I will defend it with gnashing teeth and trembling hands until there is no other choice than to back down and admit defeat if new information/developments should push me that direction. AI art is being used incorrectly by people who already have more than enough profit and control and only see AI technology as a weapon that can ensure further profit and control, it is not in itself incorrect or soulless or unreal or a scam. I hate that people see it as such. I really do.

Art should be allowed to grow, not be stifled because there's still work to be done to correct how some people are using it or plan to use it later. I know that work involves putting pressure on companies, but can we please not also put pressure on artists trying to adapt to new technologies or people trying to explore their artistic desires when they couldn't do so before AI art was an option? Can we just recognize that it's a new art tool that's being misused, and not vilify the AI itself?

[spockandawe]

Would you ever think to sell your bookbinding services for people? I have troubles with screens because of a traumatic eye injury and cannot read my favorite fics well anymore. I would do anything to have a few of them on my bedside table so I can read them again. I just don't know where to turn to and because of my disability I have no hope of binding any myself.

No, no, you're totally fine!!!! This is a super legitimate question, and even if I can't help, i can point you at people who can. The best central resource for fanbinders I know about is the renegade publishing tumblr. They have a directory of bookbinders on there, where i believed the ones who accept commissions are flagged so people like you can find them.

I will warn you that it's probably more expensive than you're expecting it to be, unfortunately. The cost of materials varies a lot, and even with the cheapest goods possible, it's a very time-intensive craft. Commissioning some all-time fave fics is definitely an option, but if you're hoping to build up a decent library of printed media, it's going to get real expensive real fast.

So also, although i don't know the details if your disability, you may want to look at some of the very very basic bookbinding options on your own, just to see if it's completely out of reach. I'm escalating over time, but at an intro level, you can even, say, export a pdf from ao3 and use the booklet function in adobe reader to print it as a booklet. Fold it in half and staple or sew down the middle, and you've got something on paper, jn bookish form, that's easier on your eyes. I can't give a more in-depth intro to very simple bookbinding right now, but that's an option that's out there too, and I'm happy to say more about it another day!

[truck-fump]

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    One man is...

New Post has been published on https://robertreich.org/post/744315857923080192

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    One man is...

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    

One man is especially to blame for why corporate power is out of control. And I knew him! He was my professor, then my boss. His name… Robert Bork.

Robert Bork was a notorious conservative who believed the only legitimate purpose of antitrust — that is, anti-monopoly — law is to lower prices for consumers, no matter how big corporations get. His philosophy came to dominate the federal courts and conservative economics.

I met him in 1971, when I took his antitrust class at Yale Law School. He was a large, imposing man, with a red beard and a perpetual scowl. He seemed impatient and bored with me and my classmates, who included Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham, as we challenged him repeatedly on his antitrust views.

We argued with Bork that ever-expanding corporations had too much power. Not only could they undercut rivals with lower prices and suppress wages, but they were using their spoils to influence our politics with campaign contributions. Wasn’t this cause for greater antitrust enforcement?

He had a retort for everything. Undercutting rival businesses with lower prices was a good thing because consumers like lower prices. Suppressing wages didn’t matter because employees are always free to find better jobs. He argued that courts could not possibly measure political power, so why should that matter?

Even in my mid-20s, I knew this was hogwash.

But Bork’s ideology began to spread. A few years after I took his class, he wrote a book called The Antitrust Paradox summarizing his ideas. The book heavily influenced Ronald Reagan and later helped form a basic tenet of Reaganomics — the bogus theory that says government should get out of the way and allow corporations to do as they please, including growing as big and powerful as they want.

Despite our law school sparring, Bork later gave me a job in the Department of Justice when he was solicitor general for Gerald Ford. Even though we didn’t agree on much, I enjoyed his wry sense of humor. I respected his intellect. Hell, I even came to like him.

Once President Reagan appointed Bork as an appeals court judge, his rulings further dismantled antitrust. And while his later Supreme Court nomination failed, his influence over the courts continued to grow.  

Bork’s legacy is the enormous corporate power we see today, whether it’s Ticketmaster and Live Nation consolidating control over live performances, Kroger and Albertsons dominating the grocery market, or Amazon, Google, and Meta taking over the tech world.

It’s not just these high-profile companies either: in most industries, a handful of companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

This corporate concentration costs the typical American household an estimated extra $5,000 per year. Companies have been able to jack up prices without losing customers to competitors because there is often no meaningful competition.

And huge corporations also have the power to suppress wages because workers have fewer employers from whom to get better jobs.

And how can we forget the massive flow of money these corporate giants are funneling into politics, rigging our democracy in their favor?

But the tide is beginning to turn under the Biden Administration. The Justice Department and Federal Trade Commission are fighting the monopolization of America in court, and proposing new merger guidelines to protect consumers, workers, and society.

It’s the implementation of the view that I and my law school classmates argued for back in the 1970s — one that sees corporate concentration as a problem that outweighs any theoretical benefits Bork claimed might exist.

Robert Bork would likely regard the Biden administration’s antitrust efforts with the same disdain he had for my arguments in his class all those years ago. But instead of a few outspoken law students, Bork’s philosophy is now being challenged by the full force of the federal government.

The public is waking up to the outsized power corporations wield over our economy and democracy. It’s about time.

[legionofpotatoes]

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.