#he is a Special Flavor

[ghost-bxrd]

Just read the comic where Joker runs into Robin!Tim for the first time post Ethiopia and starts raging about “How are you back!? I killed you! I killed you! No matter, just gotta do it again then!”

And it got me thinking again about how similar Tim and Jason must have looked in costume and just—

(Look I’m not saying there was a part of Bruce that was comforted by having “Jason” close again but—-)

[ohitslen]

Sharing a meal

I wrote something for this below the cut if you’re interested :)

They never eat anything too tasty, surviving with packeted rations and canned food in their journey. Sometimes they would stop at a little restaurant and eat a nice meal; it really tasted like something gourmet after days of going with grain bars and dry jerky.

There were fleeting moments in between conversations in which one of them would remember some dish, from back in the day when things were easier and they didn’t worry about too many things. They never went deeper into the topic, just mentioning how they missed a good meal.

Staying at an inn or any motel was an expensive thing to pay for. However sometimes they had some extra money from an odd job Vash did or from Wolfwood’s undertaker services, and they would always rent a room as a treat for themselves.

It was a surprise when they entered the room and saw a small kitchen. The space was a little too cramped but it had everything they needed, it was like a deluxe room when they though about all the places they had been at. None of them had a kitchen at all, maybe they had a tiny stove or a mini fridge, perhaps a table sometimes but never the whole set together.

They both looked at each other to confirm they really were seeing the thing, smiling excitedly.

They could make a meal for themselves.

Vash knew how to cook, he had done some work on kitchens throughout his life. A few times he helped Rem when he was a child, he knows how to defend himself. Yet he didn’t know any recipes by heart, not any that would be inside their budget at least. He could get creative and probably whip up a thing or two if he was given enough time.

“I know what to do” Wolfwood said with a smile that irradiated a melancholic warmth interrupting his thoughts . A smile Vash had only seen when he talked about the things he loved.

Vash didn’t suggest anything in the end and just followed what the other man told him to do.

He went to buy all the things Wolfwood asked him for. Vegetables and some thoma meat. There seemed to be some spices in the room so he only bought garlic and onion as per Wolfwood’s request.

When Vash got back, he found Nick at the table arranging the ingredients the kitchen already had. He was already showered, hair messy and with droplets of water hanging on the tips. Getting closer, he could smell the soap, the cheap shampoo and the lingering scent of nicotine that never seemed to go away. He was changed into a black, long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose dark blue pants.

His overall appearance made Vash think how the edges of the man were less sharp, he seemed more relaxed and at ease, even if it wasn’t entirely the case. He just looked, soft.

“Hey welcome back, did you bring what I asked you for or will I have to use your meat for this?” Wolfwood greeted him without looking up from his task, the ingredients being the most interesting thing in the world it seemed.

Something warm pooled at the pit of Vash’s stomach, he didn’t know why that was and didn’t bother to think about it either, just enjoying the feeling.

Smiling, he placed the bags on the table in front of Wolfwood, taking out its contents. “I’m sure I brought everything yeah, I hope my life can be spared”.

The priest snorted at him and grabbed a potato that was rolling off the table. “Aight then, make yourself useful and start washing these and then chop ‘em to reasonable bitable sizes”. Losing no time, he took the meat and was cutting it while giving out the instructions.

While Vash was washing and chopping, the other was already preparing the meat putting it in a pot with boiling water. Once Vash was finished with all he was asked to do, Wolfwood ushered him to take a shower while the food was done, wanting to have more space in the narrow place. Vash did as told in that as well.

The shower felt great, all of the gross stickiness from the sweat and other things were finally washed off from his body. He felt light and a thousand times more content.

As he opened the door the smell hit him in the face, a delicious scent that surely tasted even better. Wolfwood was stirring the pot, poking some of the potatoes to make sure they were on the right term, and they seemed to be as he turned off the stove.

Vash got closer, mouth already watering just from the thought of how it’d taste “That smells so good! What did you make?” He asked with a big grin plastered all over his face.

Wolfwood pointed at the table with his hand, signaling him to sit down a little dismissively while he looked for the bowls on his own. It seemed like he was the kind that with less people on the kitchen when he was there, the better. “Just a broth, nothing too wow it’s something easy, and on budget”. Vash hummed with wonder and served two cups of water to busy himself with something.

Wolfwood poured the two servings of the broth, it was still hot and the bowl must surely be scalding. Yet Wolfwood’s calloused hands never flinched, placing their food on the table without much trouble along with a pair of long spoons.

“Be careful or you will murder your tongue” he warned and Vash chuckled.

“Thanks for the heads up chef, ‘preciate it” the other just scoffed at the title and sat down across him .

They both mixed the broth while blowing at it in hopes for it to cool down a little. However seeing how they were both starving and didn’t care too much about getting burnt or not, they just started to dig in.

Wolfwood was eating eagerly, having spoonful after spoonful of his food. He was beyond delighted. It had been a long time since he had the chance to prepare the broth he used to have back at the Orphanage.

“It’s…delicious” he heard Vash say in a low and calm tone. When he looked up to see the man, he was shocked to find him with reddish eyes that were glistening with tears. It didn’t seem like when was doing a show or anything of the sorts, he just seemed…at peace.

It wasn’t anything extravagant, quite possibly one of the most simple dishes Vash has ever eaten. It was made with the things that they could afford with the little money they could spare, the ingredients were definitely not of the best quality, the vegetables could have used a little more time on the pot. And it was delicious.

Vash felt incredibly warm inside, similar to how he felt when Wolfwood greeted him when he got back, just a thousand times stronger. The first sip he had of it tasted like the best thing ever cooked in his whole life, something he would have every day of the year for the rest of eternity. He didn’t know why that was at first, but after having a second spoon of it he could tell what it was.

It tasted like home.

The flavor of it, it was homely, the savor of melancholy. It tasted like their conversations about missing the past. The tang of the times they would have a peaceful night in the desert grilling worm meat around a campfire. It reminded him when he got sick and an old lady had given him a bowl of soup. It tasted like the first time Rem had given them a try of what meat and vegetables tasted like. It tasted like all the things he missed, and the things Nicholas most likely missed too.

The familiarity of it made him feel fuzzy and full on the inside, and he couldn’t stop eating. He was slow while doing it, wanting to savor every bit of what he could have while it lasted. It was rich, it was simple and it was perfect.

“…You want some more?” At some point, Nicholas had already finished his own bowl and brought the pot over to serve himself again. He looked at Vash with something soft in his eyes the other could not name, his voice was gentle and gravely, sweet and easy on his ears just adding more to the warmth inside of him.

“Yes…yes please” Vash answered, voice cracking a little. Nicholas served him, the sound of the liquid being poured soothing his soul.

Vash ate again, and Wolfwood was looking at him. The priest was taking small sips of water from his cup, always holding it against his mouth even if he wasn’t drinking anything. Vash didn’t really notice when he had started tearing up, thick streams of salty water running through his cheeks, a pool of them welling up at his chin and falling down the wooden table making a puddle of happy tears.

Vash enjoyed the heartfelt broth. He was happy, that bit of simplicity was enough to make him forget of everything else and just focus on that moment.

It was so mundane. Vash smiled with overflowing tears in his eyes while Wolfwood just watched with a fond smile of his own behind his empty cup of water.

At that moment, they were not in a random room at a random place. They were in a place where they had brought their home to, sharing a meal with each other.

[chronologically-challenged]

Everything around the Isabeau confession is so well written.

Firstly, the set up. When you're playing the game, killing the King is just a vague goal. A natural one! But other than the vague desire to hit an end point, there isn't really a strong emotional reason compelling the player forward. But Isabeau!!! Telling you he will tell you something once you beat the King!!! That!!! That is a tangible goal to lean onto especially over time as you get more and more endeared to the whole party. Even if you're not aware of it being a love confession, getting to Isabeau to hear what he has to say is still a compelling reason get to the end.

And if you're Aware of how these things go for stories like these, you may also say, "Well shit, we're not gonna get a confession until the end of the game, are we?"

Second, the interruptions. The order of the interruptions are so quietly brilliant. I can't get over it. Bonnie interrupting first is such an excellent choice. You know Bonnie!!! Bonnie has been jumping into conversations all game so far. So interrupting Isabeau doesn't seem all that out of place. Then Mirabelle interrupts next time. And you go, okay. Thats two of three.... but surely Odile won't interrupt, right? By this point, the player has seen Odile tease Isabeau multiple times about him liking Siffrin, so surely she won't interrupt... right? Right??? But she does. And despite it being obvious that she would, the player is still left in tension if she would.

The way things are set up, there's a plausible deniability each time. You don't expect the first interruption, Bonnie naturally would interrupt so Mirabelle could be surprising, and Odile interrupting feels so outside of what she'd usually do that you don't expect it.

And yet!!!! Saying all this!!! This is very tropey!!! Very time loop tropey!!! Stopping people from messing things up so you can have your moment is quintessential time loop tropes and yet!!! It doesn't feel tropey due to good characterization and story structure.

(And if you do realize that all three are going to interrupt from the beginning, you get a wave of DREAD when you realize that you're going to be here. Again and again. That you have to beat the King again and again and again... and as you watch the confession fizzle, seeing the Head Housemaiden there, despite Siffrin's happy demeanor, you can't help but feel it all about to crash down before it even happens. In that moment you have a taste of what the game is about to put you through).

Third, the family quests. I have two points here. Firstly, "yelling at your screen like it's a telenovela" is the best summary of my feelings on the stargazing scene. Even if you KNOW Isabeau isn't going to confess until the end of the game bc that's how these things go, it won't happen until the end because that's how good writing works, You Still Want It To Happen. So Badly. You want Isabeau to confess to Siffrin!!! You want that tension to release!!! But you have to watch and see that perfect confession slip away every time and it hurts to watch, especially if you do the quests multiple times. Second point is the fact you can't continue the Isabeau confessions on a family run kills me. It's so good. Like you're never going to get everything in one go no matter what you do so you have to pick and choose. And!!! That plays into Siffrin feeling like he's manipulating Isabeau!!!

Of course Siffrin isn't actually manipulating Isabeau but when you're so aware of what you're doing and how events could have played out, it's difficult not to see a situation where you changed the outcome as manipulation. Which... of course leads us to Siffrin's feelings at the end of trying to stop the interruptions...

Fourth, Isabeau stopping himself when confessing. It hurts so good. Idk just. Denying the player that payoff. Denying Siffrin that moment of confession. Because really Siffrin didn't learn the lesson needed to actually get this moment of vulnerability between the two of them. It's such a genius choice that brings that awful dread and hopelessness. And in the end, I suppose all five of them stop the confession from happening because from that point onward, Siffrin interrupts the confession every time. Siffrin doing everything they can to get what they want only to accept that they're never going to get it. Never CAN get this because he doesn't deserve it.

Finally, bad touch. People have talked about bad touch enough, so I dont need to go too far with it. I will say I appreciate how much it doubles down on subverting the "romancing someone in a time loop" narrative. These loops while in some ways made Siffrin more perceptive, they're also PAINFUL. They mess with his head, lean towards making worse and worse decisions, and a large part of that is his role in his family's lives. Especially with Isabeau!!! So yeah. Of course the surprise kiss doesn't go well. Especially with the context that Isabeau doesn't think Siffrin wants to be touched let alone kissed? It ends in disaster just like most of the sidequests do.

In general, the ongoing Isabeau plot is very well implemented. The seeds for it are planted immediately, and it takes a lot of commitment to see all the parts of it. As a result, unless you try to do a ton of runs in act 3 immediately just to get the confession, it's a very slow burn part of the story, doing well to parallel Siffrin's mental state and the growing hopelessness in the loops. It grounds the story in a tangible goal from the beginning and in many ways, once you get to the end of it, get to bad touch, you're left bereft. Something... lost after you spent so much time being aware of Isabeau. That tangible feeling that you're slowly running out of things to do, of ways to spend these two days.

(And of course, then you have act 6 confession, and the pure relief, the joy in finally having the confession after it being set up from act 1. Siffrin doesn't need to reciprocate for it to have its impact. Something has CHANGED they have changed. And finally FINALLY after all this time, the moment can happen. And it's beautiful).

[nguyenfinity]

Switch is back after their Valentine's event for White Day to bring you Magic for your special someone(s)! Show your friends and fans a little appreciation in return, whether you're sailing for a Romancing Cruise or just for lifting their spirits A little bit UP!!

art-only below the cut!

[ghost-proofbaby]

a man said the most eddie-coded thing about me that i genuinely cannot stop thinking about it days later but he doesn’t know that i know he said what he did

[beeholyshit]

You know you made a promise Maroon

So please don't forget about it!!

[anti-fairy-world]

You know, while we don't think Stuck In My Head/Mind The Gap were bad episodes or anything, we kinda wish they'd been cut in favor of making that time the part one to The Battle of Big Wand, with the actually episode being part two. Make it a whole big forty to forty-five special instead of trying to fit it with a twenty-two to twenty-three minute run time

We actually like everything they were trying to do with the special, but we just wish they had more time to flesh things out and play around with the jokes between the plot moments. The writers probably didn't really have much of a choice with the time they were given to work with and had to prioritize where screen time was used, and honestly they did what they could, but sometimes it felt like 'and now this is happening so we can get moving with the plot'

[ray935sworld]

The guy that's responsible for the monster supplies for Ducati has the opportunity to do the funniest shit ever in 2025.

(Marc + vr46 monster)

[owl-bones]

I'm sensing a theme so far with all of these daydream asks... They're great ideas though! Makes me want to think of some more good ones.

That said... 📕 Do you have more?

every day i wake up and dream about writing a fic where the MC is a prince/princess of a kingdom stuck between two kingdoms at war. and a handsome but intimidating king comes to visit, proposing a political marriage so that he can have access to your lands due to the strategic importance. but you decline. and then get kidnapped and taken to his kingdom, where he will spend 4 weeks attempting to woo you. and if he fails then he will return you to your kingdom and never bother you again. but of course you fall in love

and also the king is nightmare

[mobblespsycho100]

kabru as a pwnpd headcanon is genuinely so iconic that man rlly is odysseus' hubristic tendencies made manifest tbh . . .

[son1c]

Sonic tries to joke/banter around (be himself) around his new allies but it doesn’t work.

There is no “Sonic Team” they are helping him bcs it’s convenient, it’s to either stop Black Arms or Protect the Green. Sonic is the only one here for Shadow and that puts him on edge

Later on he jokes around with Shadow and when he is unresponsive it sends him panicking again, Sonic says he doesn’t dwell on “almost’s” but he does when Shadow doesn’t show signs of being alive/present

When Shadow goes with his typical “I'm the Ultimate Lifeform." Motto then Sonic is back on track. He got Shadow back, so his world is still salvageable, it existed. There’s a living prove after all.

Most important than all, he isn’t alone anymore. Reality is bearable, someone is besides him now

yeah yeah yeah

[spitblaze]

Gold and Silver are good kids and Gold likes to show up unannounced to Lance's house post-game to bother Silver and Silver is like 'ugh great just what I need a loud annoying weirdo' but they are neither loud nor annoying while they hang out they just quietly sit on the floor reading magazines abt pokemon or playing video games and sometimes Gold will shove something in Silver's face like 'WHOA CHECK THIS OUT' and Silver will be like 'can you quiet down. What stupid thing could possibly get you that excited' as if he wouldn't also be equally excited about the very cool article about Sharpedo Gold just found

[essencering]

↳ summary: you are not a part of his family, but you make his heart shake in such a way that only his brothers have the ability to do so. so, to have you standing there, with a smile and a promise on your lips to see you fall shakes his heart.

↳ Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Demon Attendant Reader, Lucifer (Obey Me!), Nightbringer Setting, NB Spoilers, Lesson 11-16 Spoilers.

writer's blurp: i absolutely LOVE the idea of NB lucifer just feeling as if everything is right when the MC is with his family, but not being sure of what to really do about that. my favorite flavor. <3

Lucifer puts power behind his words, looking down at you as nothing more than a gnat in his path you simply look at him without a care for what he could do to you. You smile at him with pride and defiance, standing your ground as if the two of you are equals.

You fit into the cracks of his family with ease, bringing a sense of normalcy to each of his brothers simply by being at their side. Often joining whatever schemes that tickle their fancy even if it is at his expense.

You are not a part of his family, yet you seem to fit into it like a missing piece of a puzzle. You are nothing, but a stranger, someone who was asked to keep an eye on them, to help them settle into their new lives as Demons.

You are an enigma, you are a danger.

You are Human. You are a Liar.

So to find you standing before him, with a smile and a promise on your lips while handing the grimoire back to him.

"Are you sure that you understand what you're doing?"

"Of course I understand, there are more important things than this. I love all of you. I promised as your attendant to help you find joy in the Devildom and to protect you."

How foolish, of you to do such a thing. To hold such power over himself and his brothers, to just hand it back over… how to give back the one thing that could protect you from Lucifer's wrath and his brothers.

"To do that, I won't be needing this. For something like this love, and care is how it should be rather than power or commands."

How bold. How brave. How unflappable. How human of you.

To have you standing there, with a smile and a promise on your lips to see you fall shakes his heart. You slowly sink deeper, and deeper into the curse's embrace, your smile stubbornly remains present despite how your heart slows and your breathing becomes so impossibly difficult to hear.

Wake up. His brothers are calling out to you. Wake up. That Reaper and Solomon are arguing.

To see that you are unable to look at him with your own pride and defiance feels wrong. To see you fall, and then to see you laying before him. You seem so small, so fragile, so.... human. It's baffling to see you without that smile on your face, to see you standing beside his brothers.

Lucifer wonders if this is how Lilith felt for the human she loved. Willing to do what she could for the one she loves. Upon falling, something was already missing in his family Lilith. Now another piece is missing.

It is you.

Maybe, just maybe if he claps his hands together after running his fingers through your hair, tucking the sheets in better around you, and gathering the many gifts his brothers have left for you... maybe a little prayer can help you open your eye's once more.

[scarefox]

local vampire gets nonverbally bothered while peacefully eating blood soup

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

Haikyuu is like damn all these bitches autistic... Good for them... Good for them...

[fisherrprince]

idk how it would happen but I imagine ven meeting his younger selves and they’re both so different. But the same. But different

he meets the one stuck in the desert with no memories and immediately almost gets his head cut off, just because — for ease of reading, he’ll refer to himself as Ven and the younger one as Ventus and the youngest one… Little Ven. Look, he never said he was that creative, and they like their name — because he startled him. He doesn’t remember the badlands that well, but he does remember how jumpy it made him. That’s still… there.

anyways he almost gets his head cut off because Ventus hears someone’s big metal shoes behind him and whips around, keyblade in hand, and Ven backs out of the way with his hands up and an eep! and puts a lid on the instinct to summon his own keyblade. Ventus’ face gives away his emotions pretty much instantly, which it doesn’t do so much anymore, but it goes fear-anger-confusion-VERYconfusion-fearagain-curiosity-confusion-bigshowyhuffyface. Like a kitten making itself look bigger. Ven tries to make himself look smaller, or at least non threatening. Or at least not like an evil future version of himself come to end his bloodline here and now. Would you believe he had that irrational fear every once in a while he’d make some kind of dumb mistake and go ah, I hope this doesn’t have universal consequences i feel the repercussions of via someone smarter than me coming to tell me off! which, I mean it’s not The Most irrational. Time travel exists. He’s doing… it(???). Ventus seems to settle somewhere between genuine curiosity and cornered kitten.

“Who are you?”

Wow his voice is higher! It dropped pretty late. Mostly while he was training here, so he never really had the embarrassed-by-voice-cracking thing Aqua told him about with Terra, he was worried about other things. And his hair is so much scruffier, and his skin is dry-looking, he doesn’t remember taking care of himself very well out here. There’s nothing here, really. Has Ventus eaten? Today? Should he have brought the conchas from the kitchen. Is that an open cut on his arm? That’s blood. That’s bad. Ven’s been forgetting to speak and just looking at his younger self which is not helping his nerves, he doesn’t think. “Uh… you? Older you! We’re in a dream, sort of, I think.”

probably not the right thing to say, even though ven’s not sure what WOULD be the right thing to say. That was about the most succinct he could make it. Ventus’ eyes narrow, and he drops the curiosity, and Ven knows what just happened, he thinks this is a test now. It’s absurd enough to not be real, and it must be illusion magic. Ventus spins his keyblade behind him and lowers his stance (still kinda sloppy, the Master was always— Xehanort was always on him about it even though apparently holding a keyblade backwards was fine). “Bullcrap,” he spits.

“Language!” Ven scolds, feeling the spirit of Aqua fill him. Ventus is too nervous to say anything more than “crap” though, which is kind of cute but weird to think about now that he’s still nervous around adults but swears like a sailor around, like, Roxas.

“Either leave me alone or fight!”

“I don’t wanna—“ And then Ventus jabs at him, his patience for the test spent. The faster he passes, the faster he can go sit down and the less of a chance he gets hurt. Ven dodge rolls out of the way once, twice, threefourtimes, getting ten pounds of dust down his shirt. He never liked this feeling. Dust stuck to his skin. Ventus gets more and more frustrated with every miss, starting to make angry growls when he does, and snaps out a strike raid, which misses, and it misses on the way back, but Ven is busy righting himself from where it missed and Ventus gets a heavy slash in right on his knuckles, which stings.

Ven recoils, and Ventus sees the real actual blood on his knuckles and the teeth of Wayward Wind and his eyes blow wide. Almost immediately, he drops his keyblade and backs away, hugging his arms to his chest and turtling in his jacket. “Oh— sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry! I messed up.”

“it’s okay! It’s okay, it’s fine,” Ven reassures him, really really wanting to stop hearing himself over-apologize. He quickly, telegraphing his moves because he knows how bad this could look, summons his keyblade and casts a quick Cure. The wound vanishes, even though it’s gonna leave a bruise anyways. Ven shows his arm. “See? Totally fine.”

Ventus doesn’t move towards him, but un-turtles slightly. His eyes linger on Ven’s hand — fine. Like he said — to the space his, their keyblade was just summoned, the one he’s holding his version of. To his face, which is pretty similar, though Ventus hasn’t looked at himself in a mirror in a while. To his outstretched arm, and the thin scars over it, and his own scrawny arm, dried blood still shiny over a thin but deep cut.

Ven follows his gaze. “Can I see that?” he asks, gently.

Ventus slowly, very deliberately shuffles his way over and gives up his arm to be looked at. Ven takes it — Ventus almost flinches when he touches him, totally real and corporeal and warm and stuff — and once again casts Cure, this time a Curaga just to cover anything he might not be showing him. Ven used to do that, before he knew what he was doing but after he was too floaty to know what he was doing at all, he’d just not tell anyone he was uncomfortable. It felt shaky and bad to verbalize, and it took Terra specifically a long time to teach him that no was a good word and I made a mistake was not the end of the world. Ven’s not gonna be able to teach the younger version of himself that whole thing in a few hours. But y’know — at least he can be nice.

Ventus studies the spot on his arm that he cured. It’s going to scar because he didn’t get to it on time, but he knew that, and Ventus figures that out, his stare moving to the same scar on Ven’s forearm. And the rest of them. Some the same, some came later. He is not, pointedly, removing his arm from Ven’s hands.

Ventus’ voice is tentative and scratchy. “Why’re you here?”

“Um,” Ven says, elegantly. “I’m not sure.”

”That’s dumb,” Ventus huffs.

“Hey.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ven says, gesturing for his other hand. Ventus hesitates — fear-worry-want, his face is like an open book — and gives it to him, finally desummoning his keyblade. “Do you not know Cure yet?”

Ventus scowls again. “Shouldn’t you remember? No.”

Ven shakes his head. “I don’t remember when we learned it. I thought it was before this.”

“I don’t remember anything before this.” Ventus, despite curling forwards into the touch he’s being given, somehow scowls even deeper.

Ven kneels. “And I don’t remember being so angry,” he says, softly. “We don’t get much better at the memory thing in the future.”

“Oh.” Ventus keeps standing. “Do—“ he bites his lip.

“Do what?”

“Do we… do we get better at — you’re … I’m… mad. I don’t like— You don’t look— Do we— nevermind, sorry. It’s nothing.”

“We get happier,” Ven says, something inside him crumbling. “We do, we get friends, even.”

Ventus’ eyes widen, not looking at him. “Here?”

“No, not here. It… it’s a long story. But I promise it gets better.” Ven doesn’t like looking at this. He spent so long not thinking about it — on purpose, not thinking about it, ever since he woke up in the Land of Departure “thinking about it” was more of a phrase that meant shaky, scattered flashes of memory and sharp copper smells and waking up with his heart in his throat and his muscles trying to scatter out of existence or hearing a metal fixture drop to the floor with a loud clang! and suddenly he couldn’t hear anything except ringing and it was all, an abstract cocktail of not good that he never untangled and avoided like the plague — that… making it real, seeing himself just exist in a terrible place while nothing happens to him like those flashes of memory, it makes it real. And it breaks something inside him, something really small but gummed up because before this he had a layer of detachment from the whole thing, and he almost wants to cry. Ven knows now that he didn’t deserve this and it was stupid and horrible and he should have just had friends who loved him this whole time because it’s possible and he’s a likeable person and he has good to give and love to receive. But Ventus doesn’t know that yet, and he sure won’t believe it until it happens. He remembers not believing it. He remembers thinking it wouldn’t ever get better, and how much better it feels now that it has, and — oh, okay he is crying cool. Ventus looks at him like he’s grown a second head, all confusion and worry and tentative digging inside himself to see what he should do.

“Do… um. Do you want a hug?” Ventus asks nervously.

Ven nods. Ventus’ arms curl around Ven’s back, all thin shaky noodles and no muscles and fewer scars and not used to doing this. Not too hard — he doesn’t want to weird him out — Ven hugs back as best he can. He learned how to give pretty stellar hugs from his friends. He hopes Ventus can feel it.