#her profile did mention her body/health was deteriorating

[dlartistanon]

I don’t have a caption, just something I wanted to see

[an-ambivalent]

Wrongly Convicted

This is my late post for day 2 for MadaSaku weekend hosted by @madasakuweek​

Pairings: Madara & Sakura 

Prompts: Yandere AU & “you belong to me.” 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Warnings: As this contains yandere themes, this work contains behaviours and actions that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. Specifically, manipulating behaviour, death, and brief mentions of other dark themes. Read at your own risk. Lastly, I do not condone this behaviour. 

If there are any other trigger warnings you think needs to be included, please let me know and I will change it. Also, fair warning, I’ve never written for MadaSaku before, and I usually don’t write character x character pairings so this might be kinda shitty? 

Synopsis: For eons, souls who end up in the Bad Place get tortured for eternity through the classic old-fashioned ways: being burned, having tiny spiders crawl out of their eyes, maggots ingesting their internal organs, and so on. Madara, the devil who reigns at the top of the hierarchy of the Bad Place, decided to try a new way to torture few subject souls who end up in the Bad Place. His plan was to pose a facade of the Bad Place as the Good Place and let the foolish humans believe they had ended up in what they believed to be heaven, and then proceeding to torture them emotionally for the next one thousand years. What he did not expect was that one of his so foolish subjects had been placed in the Bad Place accidentally, and for her goodness to sweep him off his feet. 

This work is inspired from the show The Good Place. 

Soft jade hue eyes stared into a pair of onyx eyes, that offered a false sense of comfort and reassurance, and scrutinized her with a certain inkling, promising to deliver her personalised version of hell. 

“Sakura Haruno,” he voiced louder than necessary, as he flicked through her file. As he did so, Sakura shifted nervously in her seat and gave him a strained smile. 

“My name is Madara Uchiha, I’m your neighbourhood creator. Congratulations for being one of the saints on Earth, you’ve ended up in the Good Place,” Madara said, grinning at her. 

Sakura took a few moments to ponder over the implication of his words while she examined him. Her gaze lingered on his canine teeth that were visible due to his wide grin; they appeared to be larger than what one would imagine on a heavenly being -- almost as if they were fangs and their purpose was to devour living beings. She felt goosebumps rise at the nape of her neck for a strange reason. 

It suddenly dawned upon Sakura that she was in an unknown place, in front of an unknown being. So, she chose her words carefully, and opted to just question, rather than respond. 

“The Good Place?” 

“It’s where those who were good during their time on Earth end up. See, there’s a point system; each action of yours has a consequence. By the end of your time, if you get enough positive points you end up here, in the Good Place. If not, then you know you go to the bad place.” A pause, as Madara waited for Sakura to digest his explanation. 

Sakura reflected on his words carefully, and realised that it did make sense. She never leaned strongly towards one religion’s belief, and as far as afterlife shenanigans went, she did not think about them often either. Sure, there was that once in a while curiousity of life after death, heaven vs hell, or just death itself being the ultimate end, but nothing more. She tended to focus in the present, and made decisions that aligned with her values. She had studied and worked hard to become a doctor because she wanted to save lives and help others as much as she could. She did have her mean moments, but overall, she knew she was a nice enough person who cared genuinely. So it was not that surprising she did end up in this Good Place. 

She nodded to signal Madara to continue with what he was going to say. 

“Do you remember how you died?” 

“I recall the events briefly, but not much of it. Can you tell me?” That was a lie; she did recall, but she simply wanted to make sure.

Madara shrugged before he opened up her file to enlighten her. 

“You were bitten by a Sydney funnel-web spider during your sleep, and since they couldn’t you get you to the hospital in time, you died,” he stated. 

“Ah, I recall that,” Sakura replied, while in fact she did not recall that. She practically lived in the hospital, so how they did not get her to the hospital in the time was baffling. More so, that a spider was written to be the cause of her death, when spiders were not a threat in the area she had resided in. 

“Yes, it’s a shame since you were so close to finally closing in on the deal for that $1 million house, and having a breakthrough in your real estate agent career,” Madara said in pity. 

“It is,” Sakura agreed. The temptation for her eyebrow to twitch was strong, but she held back whatever expressions she wanted to make out of annoyance. Sakura was a doctor, one who worked in public services and volunteered more than what her body could handle at times; she was not a lying real estate agent who thieved people off their money, and each other, more than what they were worth. 

And that was the first time Sakura realised that she had been mistaken for someone else who shared her same name, and she was in fact not, in the Good Place. 

                                                           ****

So far in regards to his experiment, Madara was having the time of his life. Posing the Bad Place as the Good Place, and leading his experimental human subjects to believe they were in heaven, when in fact, everything was going wrong for them which tormented and agonised them, was incredibly entertaining for him to experience. The distressful expressions, the anxiety and stress they radiated off as their mental health eventually deteriorated, it left a delicious taste of human misery lingering in his mouth. 

Everything was going smoothly, except there was one enigma: Sakura Haruno. 

Madara had taken extra caution to cultivate an environment that would lead the deceased humans to believe they were in their own heaven, but it would hold elements of things they absolutely despised and feared. 

From Sakura’s profile, the real estate agent, she was claustrophobic, loathed reading and feared needles. So, he had made sure that in her dream small home, the rooms in the house would have less space -- almost with a suffocating feeling to it, by having many rows of shelves that held books. And not just any books, medical books to remind her of her failure of not becoming a doctor like her parents wanted her to be, and then they had ridiculed her for failures by cutting all ties with her. There were various sizes of needles displayed as a decorative piece across the walls of her living room.

Every time he visited her, he expected her to be breaking out in sweat, and feel the sensation of her nerves knotting her stomach and feeding on it, and relishing in whatever emotional turmoil she would be experiencing. Instead of that expected outcome, he was always greeted with the sight of the doctor Sakura grinning at him in genuine joy, and raving about all the medical books that surrounded her home. She would welcome him warmly and happily, with a little joyful jump in her step, while passionately ranting about new things she learned, and how it fit in with the knowledge she already had. And unlike the other humans, she always went out of her way to give him a sincere welcome that was not accompanied by a fake smile which concealed her true emotions. Whatever he did to try and make her miserable in regards to the information on her profile, it seemed to have the opposite effect. It was concerning for him because that was not supposed to happen; she was supposed to be suffering and beginning to lose her sanity, not greet him in excitement and thank him, and leave him feeling flustered due to her gratitude. 

It was not long before Madara figured that something was wrong with the Sakura Haruno in his grasp. So, in order to appease his curiosity about her, and figure out how he could make her miserable, he began to spend more time with her, and watch her. 

He wasn’t the only one. 

On the days and nights, and the times in between, when Madara watched Sakura, he learned many things about her. One, she was opposite to what her personality was described as on her profile. Instead of being self-centred and greedy of her possessions, she was selfless and giving. She, unfortunately, reached out to the other suffering humans and listened to them, cared for them, and made them feel better. He learned that she was opposing him by lessening their suffering, instead of letting it worsen which was the purpose when someone ended up in the Bad Place. Second, rather than feeling uncomfortable with the little space in her home and being bothered by the needles and the books, she found comfort in them -- she found comfort in the home provided for her, which was not how it was meant to be. Third, he realised he wasn’t the only one who watched her. 

After enough observation, it did not take a genius to realise that the Sakura he had come to claim as his soul to torture, was in fact the wrong Sakura. The one he was given, evidently belonged to the Good Place, because there was no chance that someone with her personality would end up as his. She was simply too pure, too beautiful, too perfect -- any filth from the Bad Place could easily taint her. 

Madara was the only one who could protect her. And so, he did just that. 

One of his other assigned humans had been a harassor. Each time a woman showed him an ounce of kindness, he would take that as a welcoming sign. Given the support he had received from his angel Sakura, it was no surprise he repeated his shitty behaviour. He had broken into her home in the middle of the night, except, instead of getting the chance to do something to Sakura, he was greeted by Madara. Instead of his usual appearance which consisted of shorter hair, more humane features, and in a tux that made him look -- well not the devil that he was to not scare humans, he had unleashed his authentic demon. His hair was messy and long, making him look bigger and more intimidating; his horns that sprouted out his head were visible and black. His eyes glistened a dangerous crimson in the darkness of the night. The last thing that the guy saw before he his inevitable demise, were Madara’s long claws that swiped down at him, and scooped out his soul from his body. 

As Madara clutched the struggling and pathetic soul of the harassor in his hands tightly, he glanced back to see Sakura staring at him with wide eyes etched with fear, and trembling and gripping her sheets tightly. She was covering her mouth with her hand, feeling horrified due to the scene she had just witnessed, and how easily Madara had just killed someone. 

He turned to her fully, and stared at her with a possessive gaze. 

“You belong to me,” Madara voiced, as he loomed over her. “I won’t let anyone else hurt what belongs to me.” 

[in-dire-need]

OK, I’M SICK- Badflower

OK, I’M SICK was released in 2019 as upcoming band Badflower’s first full-length album. Every single track on the album has gotten its due share of the spotlight as the album climbed the billboard charts. A band that was once the underdog of the rock scene became a renowned name almost overnight. Frontman Josh Katz ties personal experiences into emotional stories to create the perfect blend of heart wrenching and riveting.

Opening track “x ANA x” serves as the perfect introduction to the chaotic world of Badflower. Its extremely powerful, vulgar, and aggravated sound welcomes all the chaos that is to come. Frontman Josh Katz had spoken out about his growing issues on tour before the creation of this album: he would have panic attacks every night on stage and could hardly stand to look at himself when off stage. His anxiety grew to such a high level that he was prescribed Xanax to calm down. “x ANA x” is written as a love letter to the prescription drug, which Katz had now developed a dependency for. He tells ‘Ana’ that even though she saves him from his demons, he can’t breathe with her around. He craves the feeling of being himself again, but he craves her more. He explains the awful life he lives without her, then the instrumentals slow down as an auditory example of the effect Xanax has on a person. He begs her not to let him lose control over himself, so he keeps her around as he destroys himself.

"The Jester” waited almost an entire year after its initial release to bask in its well-earned fame, when a well-deserved music video and an acoustic adaptation were released. Josh expresses that he feels like a source of comedic entertainment for others, as if he is only there as a jester. Everyone is just fucking him over, letting him run in circles for their own amusement. 

The next track is an extremely emotional one and if you deal with sensitivity toward subjects involving depression and/or suicide, I suggest you skip past this paragraph. “Ghost” was first released as a single before being added to the set of the album. Badflower’s raw performance on The Late Night Show With James Corden is what attracted so many initial listeners to them. The lyrics depict the narrative of someone who has attempted suicide by self-harm multiple times, but has never succeeded. He thinks about how he is a constant let-down to his friends and a disappointment to his family. He wants to give in and try again, but he is worried that he will fail once more and that his pain will continue. At the same time, he wants someone to save him from this endless loop of self-destruction that he has caught himself in. He finally makes up his mind and attempts to kill himself once more. As the blood leaves his body and his vision goes dark he regrets not telling his family that he loves them and not leaving a letter. He admits that the thought of regretting what he did is so fucked up and, at the very end of the song, his last attempt succeeds in taking his life out of his hands. In another interview, Josh disclosed that the true inspiration behind the gut-wrenching, graphic track was fortunately not from a personal experience. He explained that during tour his mental health had severely deteriorated, as mentioned in “x ANA x,” and he was considering harming himself. Instead, he wrote “Ghost” to keep him from making that mistake for himself. Not only did this intent work for him, but possibly millions of people in the same situation. “Ghost” appears as a gruesome depiction of humanity’s lowest point, but actually serves as a beacon of hope for the many that are unfortunate enough to be living that reality.

Now that that emotional hashing is through, let’s progress through the rest of the album. The next wave of songs depicts individual stories of different people in extremely different situations. “We’re In Love” presents the conflict of a man struggling with his sexual identity as he begins having a sexual relationship with another man. He has never been with a man before and struggles with accepting who he is. “Promise Me” is a sweet-sounding track that expresses putting your all into a relationship just for it to be torn away from you as you and your partner grow older. This song was inspired by Katz’s fear of growing old and losing his loved ones.  At the end of the trifecta, “Daddy” tells the story of a girl who was sexually abused by her alcoholic father from a very young age. The trauma permanently scars her, so when her father is hospitalized at an old age she smothers him to death as payment for all the years he stole from her.

“24″ returns the focus back to Katz’s own personal experiences in a sedated and calmed intermission. He reminisces about when he was younger and had a life ahead of him. He had hopes, dreams, and passion. In the present, he struggles with depression, anxiety, and drug addiction. This calls back to the continuing theme of Katz feeling worthless, as he states that his friends should let him die because he is too afraid to be alive. The next track was featured as a single, on the band’s EP Temper, and on OK, I’M SICK. Whereas “x ANA x” compared a drug to a person, “Heroin” does just the opposite. The song was originally released in 2014, five years before its release on the album. It is tied with “Ghost” for what is the band’s most emotionally raw performance. Josh knows that the girl he is with is wrong for him and is toxic, but he finds himself addicted to her. She treats him horribly, but he constantly finds himself going back to her. He knows that in the long-term he will escape his addiction to her, but cannot find it in himself at the time. It has become somewhat of an anthem for people that have been trapped in toxic or abusive relationships and has inspired many to stand up when found in that situation.

The calm atmosphere created by the last two tracks is destroyed as the hardcore, violent, and extremely offensive song written about people that are so afraid of change that they bring an entire nation down. Though many think that “Die” is directly aimed at Donald J. Trump, Katz has stated that it is not. Many of the lyrics point toward that conclusion, since many of the people that the song is truly aimed at are grouped in with Trump supporters. Keeping with the violent political scene, “Murder Games” solidifies Katz’s vehement stance on veganism and the consumption of meat. “Girlfriend” serves as yet another action-packed, graphic, and vulgar piece of insight into the real world. To put it simply, a man goes onto an online dating service to find love and becomes obsessed with an attractive woman’s profiles to the point where he imagines cutting her open and tasting her blood.

“Wide Eyes” continues the stories of people in horrible situations, telling the story of an altar boy who was sexually abused by the priests in his Church. He hid what happened to him from his loved ones in fear of being named a liar and being alienated from the Church. During the breakdown, he finally gives in and comes out about how the priests treated him. He accepts that he has become the shame of the Church and has been twisted into the bad guy. The album ends in the exact opposite place to where it started. “Cry” is a soft ballad about emotional pain that utilizes the use of metaphors and imagery to describe the action without actually using the word ‘cry’. 

OK, I’M SICK has not only brought the band to an amazing place, but has brought Josh Katz to a better mental state. Thousands of fans worldwide have been affected by the words contained in this masterpiece, and have even been given the will to keep going. That being said, it is very clear that there are two continuing themes throughout the album: Josh’s personal struggles and the struggles of other people in these horrible situations. This album covers an extremely broad scale, ranging from suicide to internet stalking to sexual abuse. This not only raises awareness to these issues that plague the world, but serve as a message to all people personally dealing with them. By telling the stories of these people, Badflower has given real-world survivors a safe space to open up about their struggles and the memories that follow them. This atmosphere is what brings listeners to cherish this band because Badflower is more than just a band and OK, I’M SICK is more than just an album. Badflower is a home. A haven. Somewhere that, despite all the world’s troubles and grievances and sickness, you can feel safe. When most bands tell a story, that’s all it is. A story. By connecting to this vulnerable and powerless side of humanity, OK, I’M SICK crosses the line from story to message. It is a message telling you to keep going and to cherish the good that you have. It is a message telling you that the situation you are in now is under your control and that things will get better. Nothing is permanent, and that is both a good thing and a bad thing. So relax. Go enjoy yourself.

“Okay, I’m sick! Not the kind of sick that lands you in the doctor, Not the kind that makes you weak and then heals you stronger, It's the kind of sick that turns your legs into spaghetti. It’s the kind of sick that makes your blood burn and your bones heavy. The kind of sick that makes an atheist pray for Jesus. The kind of sickness that turns your power into weakness. And I'm sick of being sick for this whole fucking place to witness. And I'm living a sick life that most people call privileged. And they're kinda right, but I’m still sicker than I can cope with.”

[tanyuu]

end-eavor

Hi! This is my first article-style theory. It’s obviously not like an actual article, you can tell by the deteriorating quality and fact that I used my own headcanons in place of canon information, but I’d just really love to see an article written by a sleep-deprived reporter bashing Endeavor.

 That’s… all this is. It’s just a 7-page rant on why Endeavor is a terrible parent. And then it quickly dissolves into a theory on why Dabi is Todoroki Touya, so… good luck.

 The reporter who writes this (Ella) is me! I’m not actually a reporter or writer at all, but I work around books. So. I’m gonna call bullshit on myself and get INTO THIS!

  YEEHAW!

 Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavor (#1 in PHR, but #-7,000,000 in our hearts), has at least three children. They are known as Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Fuyumi, and Todoroki Shouto. Shouto has been in the public eye for a while now, especially after he was accepted by recommendation into UA.

Shouto was confirmed to be previously the victim of an act of domestic violence. His well-known facial scar (over his left eye), covers a quarter of his face. The cause was confirmed to be his mother's unstable and rapidly declining mental health.

All three of the Todoroki children released statements in the following years to plead their mother as not guilty (and worthy of single custody.) Endeavor harshly refused these claims, and insisted that their mother had endangered his children. (though he did not call Shouto his child. the term used was 'masterpiece,' which implies... certain things.)

In all fairness, Endeavor's stance on the topic is expected. The safety of your children is important. It's a touchy subject though, so all you need to know is this:

 - Rei Todoroki (ice quirk), mother to the Todoroki children, poured boiling water onto her youngest child (Shouto)'s face.

- The cause was deteriorating mental health, but the cause of said mental state has not been released. Ever.

- Endeavor has potentially harmful opinions regarding his children, as well as near POSSESSIVE qualities with and to his youngest child.

Moving on.

Todoroki Natuso (quirkless), has cut ties with his father, for unknown reasons. Speculators and theorists claim that his father MADE him, as to not interfere with Shouto's "training."

He is now working as a doctor near Shizuoka Prefecture, and has saved many lives. His sister and brother are very proud of him. (and we bet his mother is, too)

Todoroki Fuyumi (sparking ice quirk) works as a preschool teacher. Though Natsuo moved out of Endeavor's "estate" (look up the square footage. we DARE you), Fuyumi has not. According to THIS (link) article, she will not until Shouto has graduated from UA. When prompted, she gave no answer.

Now, you're probably wondering: "Hey, Ella? If there's some kind of scandal, why don't you just go right out and say what you think is going on?"

That's the fun part! I legally CAN'T. Todoroki Enji (Endeavor, your #1 PUBLIC HERO) has ordered that no reporters are allowed to comment on 'how he runs his family.' And honestly, I value my job just a LITTLE too much to run the risk of the Hellflame's wrath.

Onwards, I suppose. And time for some (LEGAL) speculation.

If you recall, I mentioned how there are three confirmed children. That's because (and i did some actual digging here) there are FOUR legitimate Todoroki children.

Does anyone else remember the sports festival 6 years ago? The kid who had a CRAZY blue fire quirk? And then there's the fact that five-ish years ago, all of the footage from the semi-finals was deleted. Almost all of it.

Now, (I say with a grimace, here) I found one photo, and anyone with an eye on the news regarding high-profile villains would recognize THOSE piercings.

Why am I bringing up this blue fire quirk kid, anyway? Blue fire, blue fire, blue fire.

Todoroki Enji, ENDEAVOR. THE NUMBER ONE HERO. Lied about his kids. I'm definitely losing my job now, so... might as well just go with this, I guess. How do I know this?

 We're familiar with Endeavor's ultra-move, the jet-stream style fire blast. He used it in the Hosu attack earlier this year, just before he captured the villain 'Stain.'

 What color is the fire in that crazy powerful attack? B L U E.

Sports Festival mystery kid? Blue fire, spiky RED HAIR, turquoise eyes. It's like... younger, amped-up Endeavor.

 I brought up piercings already, right?

 The boy from the sports festival (let's nickname him v2 for now, short for Version Two of Endeavor. because I would pay SO MUCH to see this kid kick Endeavor's ass. i'll be linking a kickstarter for that later, too) has four piercings on his ears, and a triangle of nose piercings on both sides of his nose.

 Blue fire, spiky hair, turquoise eyes, a FUCK TON of piercings, and just LOOK at this smirk: <IMAGE ATTACHED>.

Now, who does this remind anyone of?

The leader of the Vanguard Action Squad of the infamous League of Villains (LoV). The villain's name is 'Dabi,' which means 'Cremation.' Coincidentally, I looked up what v2's quirk was named. After a HELL of a lot of digging, I found both v2's name AND the name of his quirk.

 Cremation.

And as for the name, well, I'd like Endeavor's official and public reason for keeping his FIRST and OLDEST child out of the public eye.

Todoroki Touya.

What am I implying, here? That one of Endeavor's children became a villain? A high-profile villain, involved with the kidnapping of a minor and attempted murder of at least 19? A villain with a criminal record longer than Shiozaki Ibara’s hair?

I'll provide a list of reasons why I (personally, and definitely not free of bias) think there's way more going on in this picture. Thank you for reading this far, by the way. It really does mean a lot, especially considering that this will likely be the last thing I'll... ever write, at least professionally.

To answer my own question, I'm telling you that Todoroki Touya became the villain 'Dabi.'

Now for the REALLY fun part. Why on Earth would Touya even become a villain? And especially as one of the children of such a well-known (but, frankly, not well-liked) hero?

 I have a short list of reasons why this may have happened.

- Todoroki Enji kicked Touya out (reasons unknown, date unknown, all unconfirmed)

- Touya ran away (reason unconfirmed)

- Pressured by villains (honestly? unlikely)

But, drawing attention to the scar patterns on Dabi (Touya?)'s arms and face. It's a fire burn, but not a REGULAR fire burn. From the looks of it, it wasn’t caused by an external force (you can tell b/c of his fingers). But this implies that Dabi did it HIMSELF, which... is a whole new can of worms.

(I swear all of this is relevant. I'm just... speculating. Diligently.)

In order to do so much self-inflicted damage, you would need a few key things.

1) High pain tolerance. (30% of Dabi's skin is scar tissue. That's... a lot. Have you ever accidentally touched a flame? It hurts, and keeping it there would hurt a lot more. Doing something like that and holding the flame there requires a lot of control.)

2) A high sensitivity to your OWN quirk. Now, quirk biologists have talked about how people usually have a natural immunity to their own quirks, especially emitter-types. But, if Touya THEORETICALLY had a body made for an ICE QUIRK (see where I'm headed?), it would explain why he was so easily burned.

But why would he have such a pain tolerance? And especially... towards burns...?

 Well, I'll let you decide that one for yourself, there. I'm not allowed to talk about that, remember?

GREAT! We've answered some questions! (some meaning, like, two)

Now onto a Fun Part™! (It's not fun. Honestly, writing this makes me feel horrible. The things pro heroes cover up, no kids should EVER go through ANY of what I'm writing about.)

So far, Enji's been in the wrong... probably 80% of the time? Some of it (20%) can be marked down as 'concerned parent,' but the rest... yeah.

Anyway! Let's address a concerning topic. There are a few things I'm going to be talking back and going back to QUITE a bit:

- Shouto's refusal to use his fire in the Sports Festival last year (earlier this year? time is a concept, and i'm not familiar with it)

- The difference in personality with the Todoroki trio. (i'd say quartet, but my boss says i'm not allowed to interview a villain, and also. all of these. are still speculation. please pay me)

- How Endeavor (#1 hero. i keep bringing that up just to reiterate who exactly is the current face of the hero world and WHY THE FUCK IS HE STILL TH-) addresses his children

Where were we again? Let me check.

Oh yeah, before I start yelling about Enji being a piece of shit, I'm going to say a few things about myself. This article is very unorthodox, and I shouldn't... technically do this? BUT I'm already gonna lose my job! So, onwards and upwards, y’all:

- My name is Ella.

- I work for a really well-known (and lovely) publishing company, as a writer and editor.

- I get paid XXXXX a year. Which is okay, and better than some other companies, but I'm still... not getting anything out of this, so you can't say I was paid to write this. If anything, I'm LOSING money by writing this. (but i'm in too deep to stop now, so...)

- My hands hurt a lot from writing this. I've written it all in about an hour, but the research has taken me WEEKS. W E E K S, I TELL YOU-

 Todoroki Shouto (15, Half-Cold Half-Hot emitter quirk, aptly named) is a student at UA. He is in class 1-A, the Hero Course. He's been involved with many mainstream villain attacks, such as the USJ invasion, the Stain + Hosu event, and All Might's last stand.

 Shouto's personality can be seen as cold and standoffish, and the media likes to depict him as an aloof pretty boy. Please keep in mind, he's... been through a lot. And I'm speculating that he's been through more than anyone's actually THOUGHT about before. Kudos to him.

 In the Sports Festival in Shouto's first year, his fight with Midoriya Izuku was ALL OVER THE NEWS. The green haired “no bones about it” kid had gotten Todoroki "I'm not using half of my power" Shouto to use his fire. Nobody knows the exact content of the fight, but it's worth mentioning that Shouto smiled during it. Full-on GRINNED.

(the more i think about that... the sadder it is? kid didn't look like he’d smiled very much. ever, actually. WHY COULD THAT BE-)

 Speculation as to why Shouto didn't actually use his fire during the first events (and according to his classmates Asui Tsuyu and Kirishima Eijirou, he hadn't used it all YEAR. not even during the USJ invasion) was rampant through hero forums. Popular theories included:

- Shouto didn't want to one-up his classmates, so he restricted his power to make it fair. (which is understandable, but.... hon.... how likely is that. the damn MOTTO is ‘plus ultra’)

- Shouto was told not to by his father, and didn't, as some kind of rite of passage. (which is a whole NEW kind of 'what the fuck, enji' and i'm just. not touching that theory)

- My personal and biased favorite: Shouto was rebelling against his father after being pressured to surpass him and be even greater. (which, fair. honestly, any kind of intense pressure ESPECIALLY from a high-profile parent is stressful. take music lessons, for example! kids are gonna give up if they're forced to do shit! come ON, endeavor)

Endeavor (in MULTIPLE) interviews, has referred to Shouto as 'his masterpiece,' or 'his greatest work,' or other terrifying names. Honestly. Children aren't property, and although quirks are tossed around like clothes in a washing machine, their uses don't justify the treatment of their people. Especially with all the stigma surrounding "villainous" quirks. (WHICH IS BULLSHIT, OKAY? quirks aren't inherently villainous. sure, some are a little less flashy and virtuous, but fear is irrelevant! it's what you choose to do with what you have that matters. choices affect content of character, not predetermined morality)

BACK ON TOPIC. I'm not sorry. I feel like I could write a whole separate article on why villainous quirks don't actually exist? Should I? Hell yeah. I will, eventually.

Endeavor's blatant favoritism of Shouto is highlighted by the way he talks about his other children. By that, I'm referring to the fact that he outright DOESN'T. Not one WORD on Natsuo's confirmed cure for quirk burns. Not ONE WORD on Fuyumi's (SIX) teaching awards.

 And, most concerningly?

Endeavor has refused to allow Todoroki Rei to leave the mental hospital she was put into (10 YEARS AGO) although she's passed EVERY SINGLE examination. (fuck, i'm not allowed to talk about that. OH WELL if i go i'm going OUT)

 Shouto has affirmed that he doesn't want to work under his father, and will likely be joining a separate agency in the event of immediate hero work after graduation. He sort of implied that his father didn't know when to stop, but then left the interview.

"Didn't know when to stop? Stop what, Ella?" Remember how I mentioned some kind of 'training' way early into this? Mmm-hmm.

 I'm going to do some extreme hand-waving here. This is ALL speculation, and as of now it's ILLEGAL speculation.  

Back to Touya for a second. The records I found said that he won his match, but lost the semi-final due to intense quirk backlash. The time of the first match was INCREDIBLE. 

 6.3 seconds. Holy... SHIT.

(great job, touya! we're all really proud of you!)

Honestly! That's crazy! Record-breaking, even. Second only to... Shouto.

Second to Shouto. Maybe that's... not the first time Touya's heard that phrase.

Anyway. Training plays a role in this, because the difference in control between Shouto and Touya with fire is barely noticable. They both copy a move (left hand swing and then a full-fire short range blast) from each other. Well, maybe not from each-other.

Let's look into the Hosu fight. Endeavor uses a blue-fire jet-flame attack (can't remember if it has a name, only that it's INTENSE and I would NOT like to be on the receiving end of it), but later with the LoV's monsters (they're called 'noumu'), he uses a very familiar move.

 Left hand swing. Full-fire short range blast.

Only this time, there's no eye flinch or subtle shoulder tense. Only cold, hard, fury.

  What am I implying?

Well, I can't legally talk about THAT, now can I?

Thank you very much for reading this! I picked up this style from a few meta posts in other fandoms; the writer has access to information the reader does NOT, in this case the lack of canon information regarding Dabi’s background and/or schooling. I added headcanons:

-Natuso being quirkless

-Touya going to UA

-Touya being a badass (that’s not really a headcanon, though. he’s related to fuyumi. of course he’s gonna be a badass)

[corinnaleala-blog]

Do you know if CORINNA LEALA has arrive in Edana yet? They’re the TWENTY NINE year old, LADY IN HOUSE LEALA. What if CORINNA CORA is a Lysander loyalist, I hear she can be UNYIELDING & ALOOF. But I also hear she can be INTELLIGENT & CARING and she has sworn to House Thadea, so we’ll have to simple hope and pray she arrives soon before rumours spread.

hello there, here i go again. actually haven’t done one of those in a bit lol but let me bring you The Sad Mom Friend ™. since i am a public information directory anyways, here i will link you to the blog’s index, where you will find info about house leala, corinna’s profile and timeline, some of her app, and the tags; pretty much, all that you will need to make sense of my baby.

however, if you don’t feel like reading a bible so much (i don’t blame yall i’m still embarrassed to have made the admins suffer thru 10 pages of app), bellow the cut is your way!

inspiration: demeter and kore from greek mythology, megara from hercules, sansa stark, jeyne westerling, the tully mamas & daenerys targaryen from asoiaf/got, mary crawley from downton abbey, brianna fraser from outlander

tw: mention of misogyny, pregnancy, mention of abortive intent, miscarriage/stillbirth, emotional abusive maternal relationship, non con relationship (unwanted arranged marriage), implicit depression and ptsd, parental death.

background

first, house leala. a small house, on the territory of the kingdom of rainer -- they are the closest bannermen, within riding distance of the capital, which has made them claim to be the most loyal of the people from the kingdom. their main wealth comes from lake asteria, both the lake itself, and the fertile grounds in its margins; the lake used to have diamonds in it, but now it is all gone, and only recently they have begun to culture oysters for their pearls, which has given a boost to the economy and the status of the house.

corinna was the first born daughter of the current lord leala and lady ellanor leala, nee rainer. there is always an enchantment when it comes to your first child -- children, in this case -- and with cora it was no different. her gender never proved to be a disappointment, and instead her mother, a woman of forward ideas, rejoiced and took the girl as the apple of her eye.

thus, cora grew up by her mother’s skirts, trying her best to both be the best shadow possible, and to please her lady mother. for most part, it seems she had achieved that: she was proficient in her studies on how to be a proper lady (although admittedly, she was a poor dancer); she did not have much interest in broader politics, but had a keen mind for the details and musts of how to keep a household and to care for the people; she was passionately interested in the idea of children, of becoming a mother, of caring for babes, even going out of her way to take care and raise her younger siblings.

because she seemed to be well rounded enough, cora’s faults were often overseen. she was able to get off unscathed after childhood mischief, she had freedom of speech and of thought, and her mother even fed her not so lady-like interests in the flora of the terrain around their house, and her adventures by lake asteria. she lived an ideal life, a life that not many of her gender could enjoy, even those of higher birth than her -- actually, she preferred not to be the daughter of a bigger house; while she was in love with terenthia, house rainer’s capital, she also saw that her rainer cousins had more put on their shoulders than she thinks bearable.

at the dusk of her puberty, her idyllic life took a fall, when she discovered herself pregnant, without a husband. the father (big wc!) had been a boy she cared for too much to burden with a heaviness like this, but she still wanted the child, desperately so. her parents weren’t so fond of the idea. all her life all she knew from her mother was that overwhelming love--now, it took a turn for the worse, for the opposite. when lady leala didn’t treat her unkindly, she simply ignored her -- which, for cora, seemed to be even worse.

still, she stood her ground and refused any discussion of termination of the pregnancy. tbqh she didn’t really think much through, all she could think of was that she would feel fulfilled and useful and everything would just work out in the end, when she saw her child. unfortunately, six months or so in, she went for a sail in the lake, and ended up in an accident that caused her to suffer a miscarriage (google says the term is stillbirth but). the pain and the loss left her in a deeply catatonic state, impairing her of thought, speech and of her warmth, leaving her traumatized enough to even now, still be fearful of bodies of water (a great loss for an avid swimmer as she was).

her mother took advantage of the momentum and shipped her off to marry an unknown lordling (an wc on the main!) to be honest, he probably wasn’t cruel or bad to her at all, but cora was scarred and never truly opened up to him, going as far as treating him with scorn and coldness. she didn’t get pregnant again--which was devastating to her, since she imagined a child could make her less lonely in the strange place; and also damaging to the match, since her husband needed legitimate heirs. after some years, the husband decided to divorce her, so he requested an annulment by non consummation, which she was more than glad to grant him (even if it meant she was lying, and that her future matches would be scarce).

she thought she knew maternal disappointment, but when she returned home after years married, now unmarried and “soiled”....hoo boy. the annulment was an offense for ellanor, who took it greatly; her health deteriorated and she became more cantankerous, finding every fault in her daughter, belittling and attacking. because they all thought if this continued lady leala would be dead within half a year, cora was sent to terenthia to serve as a lady in waiting for her cousin lyanna, alongside her sister elyse, who had already been there for over a decade.

there, corinna found some room to heal. she had her younger sister by her side after so many years apart, she had healthy companionship, more freedom and less judgemental eyes over her than she has had ever since she was a young maiden, and, of course, she had always loved terenthia. although she was far older than most of lyanna’s ladies, she found a place to fit in. she may still have had bursts of melancholia, and become quieter and sharper than she had once been, but she felt herself better, worthy of life, at last.

her mother’s death just a year ago changed that. the guilt came back strong, like a river flood, and corinna found herself obliged to return to leala keep so she could be of service, useful in any way possible. ever since, she has kept herself in mourning, and has yet to return to terenthia; instead she stays to aid her father and her brothers, and to run the household as her mother had taught her to, so many years ago.

personality and interests

cora had once been well known as vivacious, warm and curious. in some ways, she has had a change for the opposite after the unfortunate events in her life. 

she has an incredible amount of empathy, which mixed with her undying curiosity, is still an alarming feature (dangerous it was, may even still be). her goal is to help anyone in any way she can, but she is also familiar with taking charge and being an older sister so she can be a bit domineering and more insolent than she should; she is well intended, though, so the minute she notices she has been too harsh, she mostly falls into an anxious daze of guilt, which makes her seem either chilly or incredibly awkward.

she is also very very passionate and somewhat constant with her interests, like, she is still very much into botany, into technology and its uses to improve humankind and she is still unbelievably stubborn, sometimes way more than she should. she is also closed off -- which can be a contradiction when she is modern minded -- and politically engaged at all, which may make her seem too passive to live in a cut throat society as this.

plots

first, the plots i have mentioned on the app that are the most necessary for her characterization/background would be:

her best friend

her past lover/baby daddy

her ex-husband (and/or his family)

however, i am really really excited for everything that is thrown at me. friendships, enemies, maybe people who despise her because they think she’s too passive, people who are interested in her (romantically, sexually, professionally, platonically, idc)

corinna is especially very into female friendships, since she grew with the idea that women are no lesser than men in any way, and that women should have one another’s backs -- thus i feel she might fluctuate towards befriending women more, especially in a way that seems she is coddling/mothering them which is like cora 101, pretty much her modus operandi, like it doesn’t even matter who you are, cora is probably struggling NOT to behave like your mother (and failing lbr)

[lavendermenaceart]

Broken Pieces||Chapter 11||

Warnings: Hospitals, vomiting, blood, IV needles, drug addiction is mentioned, just a general warning.

Tag List: @stilinskis-banshee , @captainreid , @ultrarebelheart , @cynbx, @rawritsmolly 

Chapter 1||Chapter 2||Chapter 3||Chapter 4||Chapter 5|| Chapter 6||Chapter 7||Chapter 8||Chapter 9|| Chapter 10||

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Another door shut behind Spencer and Emily as yet another neighbor knew and saw nothing. The fear pulsed through him, turning quickly into anger as he drove his fist into the brick wall of the building once they made it outside.

    Emily looked shocked, her eyes widened and eyebrows shot up. Sure, you had snapped at her before, but she had never seen you so angry you resorted to physical violence. Your intelligence was your weapon. Her face took on a calmer and kinder expression as she reached for Spencer’s shoulder.

    Spencer jerked away, raising his hands. As he turned and walked a few steps away, he pressed his palms to his eyes as the pressure built behind them along with his frustrations. He could normally come up with 100 statistics, 1,000 precise facts, but right now he couldn’t think of anything except how hopeless he felt. They had no physical evidence, no witnesses, they barely had a profile.

    Emily was about to re-approach when she felt her phone ringing in her pocket. The Caller I.D was for Hotch so she didn’t even hesitate to pick up.

    “Do you have anything?” Her tone was serious and flat. Spencer turned to watch her expressions during the phone call.

    Her eyes widened in reaction to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying.

    “Text me the details, we’ll all be heading over right now. Thank you.” He didn’t know whether to dare let himself hope or if he should let the dread overtake him. That one sentence could mean so many things. Were they going to a crime scene to find a body, a hospital to find you fine and healthy, a hospital to watch you die?

    “Police were called by a young boy. He said his mother ‘Stole a lady and she’s very sick.’ Hotch sent the address for the hospital to me.” Emily was trying to keep a brave face and an even tone. ‘Very sick’ from a child wasn’t promising, especially in their line of work.

    Spencer felt like his legs were going to give out from underneath him. Since as long as he could remember, there was a constant barrier between his emotions and himself. That barrier was fitting to burst as conflicting emotions landed blow after blow on his walls. Fear for your health, Anger that he couldn’t find you sooner, worthlessness because he could have prevented this if he had just stayed the night with you when you asked, Hope that you were okay and healthy as possible and if not that, at the very least alive.

    “Spencer, come on. I know it’s a lot, but she needs you.” Emily’s voice brought him back from his short break from the control he usual held over himself. He nodded, at a lost for words for once in his life as they both jogged towards the SUV, Derek and Alex following after leaving a nearby shop.

    “We go the call and info. Everything going to be alright, Pretty boy, okay?” Morgan had his serious eyebrows on, Alex agreeing from somewhere behind both of the male agents.

    “There will be hell to pay if it isn’t.” Emily added after they had all settled into the dark car.

Not even the jolting of the ambulance ride had woken you, but you were jolted awake when you felt a horrible pain right in the middle of your chest.

    ‘Oh god, i’m having a heart attack. I'm going to die.’ You wanted to sob but all the sensations were keeping you from thinking too much on your thoughts and feelings. Another jolt of pressure and pain. You heard the groan pass your lips before you really felt it. Your eyes fluttered open, burning under the bright white lights.

    “Ma’am, Ma’am are you with us?” One voice came from above you.

    Another from in front of you. “Patient is starting to show signs of responsiveness.”

    You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your throat destroyed from all the force and acid of the past…...however long it had been since you had entered hell. You just grunted before you felt a dry-heave spasm through your torso.

    “We’re gonna need Ativan, Zofran-” The nurse or doctors or whosoever’s voice faded out as your eyes rolled back in your head again before you closed them. The pain and discomfort made you want to beg for death, or at least their strongest pain medications.

    “We’re going to need and X-ray to see how bad the damage is so we can decide the best course of action.” You just wanted to pass out again. Their voices and all the lights and sounds were grating on your ears and just made your nausea worse if you were being honest.

    “Alright, I’m going to be giving you medication for muscle spasms, nausea, and pain, alright? You’re most likely going to need a blood transfusion, also. Do you know your blood type?”

    ‘Ohmygod please stop talking to me please just give me drugs and blood, holy shit.’ Those were the only real thoughts you were having at the moment. “B….plus.” Was all you could really manage.

    “Alright, thank you. We need B plus, ASAP.”

    “On it!”

    For the reminder of your time awake and feeling, you zoned out. It was all you could do to try to escape the pain while you waited for the medications to kick in. You were alive. In a hospital. Surely, you would be seeing Spencer soon? What if he didn’t even know that you were missing? What if he didn’t even care? You could hear your heart rate rising as new tears mingled with the old dried ones on your cheeks. Soon, you were too high to even be bothered with emotions.

    In that moment, you understood. You felt close to what Spencer felt. You understood why he would choose this over you. Those were your last thoughts before the radiologist entered your room.

    You stirred, more comfortable than you had felt in the past few days. Your pain was probably at a 3 or 4 instead of an outrageous 11. Something...didn’t feel right. You felt too light. Something was missing. What was missing?

    ‘Oh my god.’ Was all that your drug addled brain could come up with once you finally had the muscle strength to lift your head and look down. Where your right leg once was, there was now just sunken blanket.

    “Y/N oh my god.” You turned your head, confused to hear a voice other than your own.

    There was Spencer, standing up from the uncomfortable hospital chair, tears in his beautiful eyes. Seeing him when you thought you were never going to see him again, you didn’t care about your stupid leg. You lost 3/4ths of your right leg, but you were still alive to see that beautiful grin splay across his face as he took the one long step to bend over and hold your face in his.

You were both nose to nose, your breath intermingling. There were no real words that could be said in this moment. All the fear, anger, and hopelessness was resolved in this moment. You were filled with the love and determination Spencer always made you feel, but now more so than ever. Finally, after neither of you could decide on any words to speak, your lips crashed together.

Your lips were chapped and clumsy due to all the medication and lack of water, but Spencer didn’t show any kind of deterioration in his passion. The increasing rate of your heart could be heard through your heart monitor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a soft moan against his lips.

Spencer pulled away, kissing your nose before pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m not great with being emotional, but god, I was so scared. I don’t think I have ever felt so afraid in my life as when I first saw your apartment.” You could hear the strain of tears in his voice. Your vision was a little blurry but you could see his eyes shining as he spoke. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed like you asked, I should have paid more attention to your body language. I should have-”

“Spencer, Spencer stop.” You moved one hand from behind his neck to his chest. You weren’t sure you could articulate how you felt precisely, since you were high on all kinds of narcotics. but you couldn’t listen to him blame himself. “None of this is your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. I didn’t take the threats seriously until she was at my door. Look, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not in one piece, but that’s fine because I’m alive with you by my side.”

You giggled at your own joke, letting him know it was fine to laugh with you. When he smiled and let out a short breathy chuckle, it filled you with more joy than you had felt in a long time. Spencer excused himself for a moment so he could call the team and let them know you were awake and okay enough to talk. For the first time in a while you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Did you know in the United States alone, there are over 500 amputations a day? And over 185,000 every year.” It was dinner time at the hospital, and it had been a few days. Spencer and yourself were snacking on some jello and watching Animal Planet on the hospital T.V.

Hearing him spewing facts was so relieving. For the past few days, he had rarely been talking about anything other than how much he loved you and how sorry he was. You tried not to look surprised, but instead nodded your head and chuckled.

“And I’m one of them!” You glanced over at him, smiling. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.”

“Far from it.” The gorgeous nerd reached over and patted your remaining thigh.

“Alright, love birds! Here comes the daily delivery.” Garcia’s bright and cheery voice rang through the door as she waddled in on bright blue high heels, her blush perfectly highlighting her cheeks as she grinned, holding 3 vases with mixed bouquets and 7 different cards and 2 balloons.

“Jeeze. I think I get the message, guys. You really want to me to get out of here.” You reached your arms up, enveloping Penelope in a hug before grabbing the cards as she set the vases down in water free spots were left in the hospital.

All of the cards were from the team except for one. The name you found on the inside surprised you.

Spencer picked up on your surprise and his mind must have been jumping to the worst conclusions because he immediately had his profiler face on. “Who is it from?”

“Do you remember Paula, my friend who kind of stormed out of the hospital after….the, uh, incident.”

“Yeah, Of course.” Spencer leaned over the arm of the bed to read the card over your shoulder. His face fell and you felt yours twist in anger.

“Oh, no, angel. What did she say?” Garcia hurried towards you, looking down at the card before you ripped it into pieces.

“Told you so.” Spencer read off from his photographic memory, his lips dragging down at the corners in a frown.

“What a bitch.” Garcia turned towards you. “No offense.”

“None fucking taken. If she comes up here I will personally kick her ass.” You felt Spencer’s hand on your shoulder and Penelope was shaking her head.

“Don’t waste your energy, hun. You have a group of badass FBI agents to take care of her if she tries to bother either of you.” Garcia pulled up a chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in hers. “I mean, you could absolutely take care of her yourself, but It would probably hinder the healing process.”

Garcia had been such an angel this entire time. Of course she sobbed like a baby once she first laid eyes on your leg, or lack thereof, but now you were all bantering and joking about it easily.

“You’re an angel you know that? Does the team know that? Spencer, do you know that?” You looked between the two, Garcia flapping her hand flamboyantly like she was trying to shoo you away.

“Oh, stop.”

“Yes, The team is extremely aware of how much of a blessing Garcia is.” You all laughed and for the first time since being kidnapped, you felt relatively normal. It was easy banter for the rest of the night, other members of the team entering the room to chat and wish you the best. Hotch surprised you with your own wheelchair and you nearly cried. You hadn’t been thinking ahead that far, and admittedly neither had Spencer. You were both just enjoying the fact that you were alive and in the same room for the first time in days.

You were so thankful for these humans in your life. If you had been going through this alone, in all honesty you would be dead. You were so privileged to know them and to have met them. You were going to make sure they knew that and that they felt appreciated for the rest of the time you were in their lives. For now, though, everyone but Spencer was hugging you and telling you to rest and the medication was making you pretty sleepy.

You fell asleep holding Spencer’s hand over the railing of your bed, the sounds of Animal Planet in the background.

[entj-werewolf]

Hmmm... MBTI-related bit of a huge ramble below the cut. I won’t go into much personal detail though since it’s something I’m still needing to figure out with my close friends who know me pretty well; but I haven’t had a chance to have a big discussion about it with any of ‘em yet. So yeah, expect some vagueness for the meantime.

To the point: Individual development is strange and confusing. Mental illnesses make it even more-so that very fact.

More elaborate...

Being into psychology myself and having learned about different people by having the different siblings, acquaintances, friends, and even enemies I’ve made in my life - all of that has shown how so many factors can influence a person. It can sway them from parts of themselves, the whole of themselves, or the influence can actually be encouraging for them and provide the lucky opportunities they need for early healthy development. Another way influence can affect a person’s development, is if maybe it also pushes the weak traits out because those traits are more “preferred” by the surrounding environment (be it family, school or work peers, etc.) and, unfortunately, the person loses a sense of their natural state when that push goes on for extended periods of time. They end up believing those weak traits are their strengths until they realize how many other people actually have it come more naturally and effectively to their own processes. In MBTI terms, this could be someone who’s been pushed into a grip for long periods of time and believe their inferior function is better than it really is. Or, even more confusing, that long grip tricks them into believing that it’s how they naturally function and drive themselves in their lives. Even though, instead, this trait proves to be quickly draining and unfulfilling for them. Their only way out of this is to finally come to a point in their life to wonder: “Who am I as a person, truly?” “What’s my natural state without these factors and influences in my life blurring it all together?”

Another unforunate, confusing influence, can come from mental health as well rather than environmental factors. Mental illnesses in Thinking-guided types could easily cause them (or others) to assume they run on emotions and doubt having “logical” skill or drive. Although, one has to remember - even myself - that Feeling functions aren’t quite as strongly associated with emotions as what gets focused on within F function profiles (for surface understanding, at least). At the core, F functions are more about human connections, human focus, and morality/ethics. However, because F functions are focused on humanities and morals, that is what gets them associated with emotions. Emotions are a universally human experience (to most degrees), and so that’s where F functions get their involvement with such.

On the other hand, I also notice in my Feeling-guided friends that their mental illnesses can make them much more focused on detachment that differs from Thinking detachment in ways I hope I can explain well.

I think one way, at least, to describe this difference... It’s that high Thinking functions naturally won’t have a constant feeling of that “human connection” because of their low Feeling functions. Thinkers still can have deep and strong human connections! But it differs from how Feeling types will structure around and/or involve themselves in these connections. So, basically, “detachment” for Thinking-guided people isn’t about having no friends at all when it’s in a healthy state for how they naturally work. It’s just more due to the fact that human connections aren’t a high priority in their lives, and that’s where I start recognizing the difference.

When my Feeling friends get this detachment, they still strongly show desires to want better connections because it continues to be one of their high priorities. They want human bonds, they want people who care about them or people for them to care about in return.

Uh... Anyways, where may I be going with this? Anxiety Disorder is just a very strange thing to have when it’s at its worse. Lately, I’ve thought about how it affected me and how I thought of it as a whole after I discovered it earlier in my life before it got cripplingly bad.

Of course, being into these cognitive functions and how evident they are in psychology, I started strapping this reflection to how it probably influenced my own functions throughout my life.

Starting from the beginning: When I first learned about anxiety disorder being a real thing and not only emotions people seem to feel. “Everyone has had anxious moments in their lives!” I would hear. But, one day, I also learned of it being a constant in peoples’ lives and how daunting that sounded to me. Overwhelming, if anything.

I don’t recall my specific age at all for this, but I was either about to start high school soon, or already started it. I only remember I was being put with a behavioralist(?) to get further testing and study done on whether I have autism or aspergers, etc. After this appointment, one big thing stuck out to me and stayed in my memory for good. It was that I was curious what this lady observed of me, and I listened in on her conversation with my mom from the waiting room I had to stay in.

“She shows signs of aspergers, but she hides it very well and makes it hard to tell. However, I am concerned that she may have an anxiety disorder. It’s not bad, so she doesn’t need it tested immediately, but I would keep an eye out for it.”

Well, it was something along those lines. I can’t do exact quotes and all.

Anyhow, my first reaction to learning that was just pure denial. I kinda remember my train of thoughts being things like: “There’s no way I have anxiety! Anxiety is bad and shameful/embarrassing. I can’t have it - no way.”

Yeah, you can imagine what my perception on anxiety was at the time just from that thought process alone. And how absolutely stubborn and persistent I would be to completely ignore any probability of me having anxiety.

This fuel continued in my high school too - when I went to a private school for 9th and 10th grade at least. My teachers would notice my constant and frequent habit of “foot tapping” and pacing around. Did I ever think it could be anxiety at that point? Nope. It was just “habit” and “how I get my mind thinking more.” During one class, which I guess was health class, the teacher also mentioned how such “habits” can come from excessive amounts of adrenaline caused by anxiety and/or stress.

Stress was one thing I could believe due to pressures from school, but still not anxiety. I started to wonder about anxiety, but wanted to avoid thinking too much on it because I still didn’t want to have it at all. If I had it, I wanted to ignore it for as long as I freaking could. That was, in summary, a bad idea.

[I mean, this probably sounds like “personal details” that I said I wouldn’t get into, but believe me when I say these are just more impersonal statements I’m using to explain where I’m going with this. The focus is on how an anxiety disorder influenced my processes, but things like family matters and other personal enviromental things outside of this experience are the details I’m keeping until I discuss them with close friends first.]

Anxiety, I still viewed as shameful and embarrassing. In fact, to this day, it still feels shameful. But the effect it had on me during its worst has given shameful a different feeling and meaning. And I’ll get into that in a moment...

On the other hand, stress was something I saw as less shameful, but still not something I liked expressing or showing signs of to others. It’s something I recognized much more easily than anxiety, thus I was more seeing it as some “normality” and something that happens from school. (This made me far more easily envious, however, of those who wouldn’t get stressed easily because they fit this “mold” of how schools teach - at least the schools I went through - but the ones who were stressed still managed all of the work loads and details involved in said work loads. The Te-users most sites say would do well in school? They’re likely mostly Si-users with that good attention to detail and less overwhelm from such matters. Or they’re xNTJs who had the chance to properly develop their Te enough to at least get them through the school work regardless of details... All in all, the school work and lessons I had didn’t teach in ways I could understand or learn from in an effective and lasting manner. Took a toll on my confidence early in my life.)

Back to the anxiety disorder I ignored being possible at all..

Last year of high school came around, though for me that was my 5th year because I embarrassingly (and frustratingly) ended up repeating 11th grade. Having to go through this 5th year put so much stress and strain on me for graduation, that my anxiety I denied and ignored for so long exploded and imploded all at once near the end of my first semester.

Because this explosion was so huge, it weirdly became a rather clear memory for me although it was a pitch dark time all at once. My health dropped quickly and I felt like my body was deteriorating. The anxiety and panic disorder symptoms were so bad, that the entire week before my Economics test, I felt like death was always around the corner. I would be irrationally convinced that I would die tomorrow. Each day it was like this, despite these “tomorrow deaths” not happening. That’s how miserable my body felt from this explosion and implosion.

While my anxiety - or at least the big explosion of it - seemed to begin as a fear of my body’s health... Looking back lately, I realized I forgot one major thing. This began from school. It began from too much stress/pressure, and too much ignorance of anxiety being a part of my “emotional system” at all. It began because I was afraid of failing (despite seeing grades as unreliable, fallable “proof systems” of one’s intelligence/abilities), afraid of having to spend more years in high school in some endless loop of stress and feeling incapable of achieving anything in my life. “If I screw up in this final year of school, it won’t be my final year and it’d keep going for another year. Or more years. Who knows how long I’ll be stuck here. I want to move on and have time to pursue the things I want to achieve already!” These were my thoughts at the start of this year before my anxiety stabbed me “out of nowhere” just months later.

I also remember it making me feel so helpless, that this anxiety “bang” turned this helplessness into becoming crippled quickly. It hurt to walk, it hurt to do anything. School became more difficult. I couldn’t sleep with the feeling that time was running out for me. Going to a doctor felt like a hassle, and I had my worst pains when having to go to my Economics first semester final that next week after it all “began.” It was as though I became lifeless, and a slave to my deepest, darkest fears that I never bothered with or knew how to confront and conquer.

All of this contributed to an all new feeling of how I viewed anxiety as “shameful.” Instead, I see it as shameful only in myself. I gained more sympathy for others who have to suffer it as a disorder, as I personally understood it to a grand extent (put in urgent care/ER one or two times as well). I hate anxiety so much more than I used to, but only because I had to experience its build up suddenly strangle and beat up my obliviousness of it. It was like a bizarre, twisted, insufferable wake up call for me.

This... Lasted for about 3 or 4 years. It kept going after graduation in that final year, and left me within a stagnant (nearly vegetated) state for what felt like ages. I badly wanted it solved, I wanted to stop feeling it - even if that would mean risking my need to only share my “vulnerable” feelings to people I trust.

When the 2nd or 3rd year rolled around, I pushed myself to “risk” going to a therapist. Of course, still being stressed and anxious beyond belief, I had to rely on my mom to help find me a therapist. This process - waiting on my mom to find a therapist - took a few more months. It really was testing my patience.

The restlessness grew more, and I got more pushy about getting me with a therapist so I can maybe get help with how to control this anxiety. My mom finally found one therapist to try first, but I went to this “introduction appointment” with that therapist... And didn’t like her. At all. I almost ended up in an argument with her, but had to hold back to avoid accidentally seeming “overreactive.” Basically, I was hating that she assumed to know my entire “life story” in just an hour of me barely telling her much about myself. I was keeping myself guarded, and yet she was giving advice that I couldn’t see as being helpful at all. I was expecting such suggestions to wait until she’d get a better understanding of what’s going on, etc. But nah. She was more “you have textbook anxiety and these generic methods (that I already tried) along with medicine will be your solution. Done.”

Something didn’t feel right, ‘cause I knew this anxiety didn’t just “appear” from a sudden and drastic chemical imbalance deal. If it did, that wasn’t my only problem, and I knew it. There hadn’t been any proof of it either from tests I had by doctors, so it really as more deep-rooted and “non-physical” than some chemicals, honestly.

Before that first hour was over, I already decided “no, this is not the right therapist for me to go to” and let my mom know of it after the therapist left. My mom canceled any further appointments with her, and we went to the next one.

The next therapist was my truly helpful and effective therapist. My first appointment with her, and everything felt promising! I had an easier time communicating with her - which says a lot because anxiety really makes wording and talking more tough for me (thus what created weird misunderstandings with the other therapist). She wasn’t trying to find “final solutions” for me on the spot before I’d give enough information. Plus, she let me take my time to feel comfortable opening up to her with more personal stuff.

I started my first appointments with her by always explaining my anxiety in a more “this is what it does, how it happened, and what it turns my thought processes into” sort of manner. Her way of providing solutions/suggestions to me would occur in pieces that best fit what I had actually told her (and not what she would assume of me) for each appointment. Although, I do give her credit for helping me realize another process in my thoughts I didn’t notice before. She pointed out something that I’ll never forget, and to this day I try to keep in mind.

She would recognize that my mind would jump to “probabilities” rather than “possibilities” in what could happen to me while I’m feeling the anxiety. That, whatever is going on in the moment, would translate into or become a specific health problem that I only know some stuff about with similar symptoms. Example: “Oh, I’m feeling bad pains in my chest and now I have some aches and nausea. I’m having a heart attack!” rather than “oh no I could have this or this or this or...” that’s commonly associated with anxiety (health-related in this particular case).

Crazy how much that would sound like an Ni-Se thing, huh?

Anyways... These appointments progressed and I was finally okay with expressing the more emotional aspects of how anxiety impacted and influenced my life while leaving me crippled so much. This was especially more intensified when I had an appointment with her again just a month after my final grandparent passed away months ago (which kinda messed me up for a while). It was hard to keep myself from sounding like I would cry when I had to break that news to her, so I tried to make it “quick” and wanted to focus on other stuff for the appointment.

At this point, only one or two appointments were left I think? And I haven’t been able to go back since then, due to the appointments being no more after insurance stopped paying for it or something.

But... Weirdly, it all worked out in the end. I gained tools to learn to manage anxiety on my own. I was able to have my final appointment on a better note than I started off, because I was able to tell my therapist about my signs of improvement. Her suggestions and step-by-step processes she figured out for my particular situation all helped! I thanked her greatly for it, and wished I could’ve at least made something to show that gratitude more before I wouldn’t see her anymore.

So, this HUGE essay of a ramble leads to another thing I’m wondering about after getting better at controlling my anxiety instead of being controlled by the anxiety itself (at least to severe extents). That crazy, intense anxiety I had really made my mind feel “blurry” and “scrambled” most times. I mean, anxiety does that in general. It was a really dark time, and it caused me to have intense retreats while still wishing I could do more in an external sense.

Which then starts to make me wonder, “is it possible I misinterpreted my function stack order during all of this?” Because I actually did discover and start learning about these functions after that explosion began. I was wanting to dig more into psychology and figure out how to get myself out of the situation, then realized there was more to MBTI than just four letters. I was lucky I got INTJ on 16personalities to begin with, because every other test would say “INFP” or “INFJ” and getting “INTJ” all of a sudden piqued my interest greatly. Mostly because I was confused and surprised at first, but I luckily stumbled upon functions in the process! (Pun not intended)

I’m certain of the functions I have, but just months ago when I was getting more of an understanding of functions in different orders (despite it still being a bit confusing to this day), I began wondering if I confused any grips with loops between either INTJ or ENTJ. But, I wanted to shrug it off, because I still couldn’t see myself as gaining energy/stimulation by external means (even if it isn’t involving people at all). My anxiety would still be overwhelming and draining for me, and that recovery process is going to take some time.

Basically: Looking back on the worst and darkest times of my anxiety/panic disorder, when I have some time to myself for trying to understand my own psychology some more... It gets me wondering now if it really blurred how I understood or viewed my own functioning order. That perhaps I got crippled enough to find external interactions too exhausting, but only because of how bad this anxiety disorder got. Who knows?

Other factors, again, I won’t get into publicly yet. I'm waiting for my friends to have time to discuss it with me, etc. Most likely gonna be my INFJ friend I talk to about it, since she’s the most updated on functions as we talk about the theory a lot (and she’s in my close circle that I’m more open with).

All I know is that I also have to have better opportunities to be in my natural state a lot more. In a healthy way, at least. Which is tough to fully reach due to still living with parents, and continue to have some familial influences, etc. But, at least I’m learning to have this natural state a bit more with my close friends. They’re surprisingly accepting of my “oddities” and somehow handle me (they’re literally 99% Feeler-driven types).

So far, I do find myself feeling to be in a much better state by completing projects for once. It was a bad idea for me to try completing big projects while having the worst of my anxiety, because that crushed the heck out of my motivational drive/energy as well. Burn out would be BEYOND common for me. That’s left me with some REALLY old projects that I haven’t finished yet, but I do want to finish when I get the chance.

Just... Currently, I’m really trying to find a new job. That’s pretty much a big priority for me right now, which is getting stressful. I need to get out of my current “job” ASAP, but I won’t get into detail on my situation with that job until after I actually get to leave with. It’s a whooolle other story in itself anyways... And after this monstrosity of a post that I decided to just write on a whim tonight to get my thoughts out, I’ll give my blog some good breathing room before making another essay-like post.

[myfantasyismyreality-blog1]

Too Much is Never Enough

(This is a story I’ve written specifically for someone special to me. It is an OC/Ignis fanfic, but also focuses very strongly on the OC’s relationship with the other guys as well. The setting is the same as the game, but should be noted that the OC and the aspects of her story have never been mentioned in the universe, so it’s something completely original. Thank you in advanced for giving this a read, and please stick around for the many chapters that follow. The first chapter is going to focus mostly on my OC, Ashley, and setting the table for the rest of the story. An asterisk will indicate something that has happened in the past. I just wanted to include that in case someone was to get confused.)

                                                        Chapter 1

                                              How did I get here?

 “How did I get here?” was the only question that continued to ring through my mind.

         The faint, antiseptic scent did little in pulling my attention; in fact it just made it easier to stay in place. It grounded me in a disgusting way, the same disgusting way my stomach has felt for the last two hours. Coming to this same room for the past three months, passing the same doors, passing the same doctors and nurses, has never felt as real as it has in this very moment.

_______________________________________________________________________

 ***

“The sky is dark, and the land is even darker. Why must such visions plague my dreams as of late?”  I wrote in the small leather journal my father bought for me years ago.

         I always promised to write more, but could never find anything worth writing about. But now at least fifty pages have been filled with memories of my dreams. They seem too have progressively gotten worse over the last year. It’s always the same thing, standing in the middle of a city; everything around me is shrouded in darkness.

 “Hey Ashley!” A voice rang breaking my concentration. You looked up to see Prompto staring over you and your desk.

 “Hey Prompto, what’s up?” You asked slightly concerned. Usually when he sounded this excited, it would always end with you both getting in trouble.

           Ever since I moved to Insomnia, and enrolled in school here my days have been filled with Prompto’s laughter, and his attempts to make me laugh, which ninety percent of the time was a success.

           My first official day of school was something I was dreading. Having to pick up my whole life, and move into the city wasn’t something I wanted, but knew it was a necessity. Mom’s health has been deteriorating, and none of the doctors in Duscae could provide a solid diagnosis. It’s like she has lost the will to live, ever since Dad and Michael were killed by the Daemons. It was a year ago, when Dad took a hunting job out in Cleigne. My brother just had to go; he wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks until finally they gave in. The last phone call we received from them, they were leaving Lestallum, and heading out for the hunt. They promised us they would set up at a Haven, rather than driving all the way back to Lestallum in the dark. We couldn’t get through on their cell phones the next morning, and even on through the evening. As we were preparing to leave for Lestallum, to find them, Mom’s cell rang. A man named Dave was on the other end, a fellow hunter and old friend of Dad’s.

           The hunters never found their bodies, only their dog tags. After that, mom was never the same. She would never eat, and would never leave the house. She fell ill, and nothing I would say or do would convince her to receive help, not until it was too late. I guess experiencing the edge of death, brought about a change in her, and she agreed to move to Insomnia to receive the proper treatments.

           When I walked into class that first day, the anxiety I felt had never been as strong as it was in that moment. I knew no one, I had nothing, and I knew I was nothing like the people in the room. Not until I saw that blonde wisp of hair shoot up at the back of class, and scream out to me. It was a simple “Hey, nice to meet you,” but to me, it was exactly what I needed. I walked past everyone else, and sat next to the boy.

“Hey, I’m Prompto” He said with confidence.

            The first thing that came to my mind was how much his hair reminded me of the Chocobos back home. I had nothing else to do besides giggle to myself, and introduce my self back to him. Ever since that day, Prompto has been the person I call my best friend. The same day he introduced me to Prince Noctis. Unlike Prompto, Noctis had a more subdued attitude. He was nice, and liked that I never referred to him as “Prince Noctis.” Anytime we had a free moment in class, we would play Kings Knight, and they would invite me to the arcade when I didn’t have too go home immediately to take care of Mom. It was so odd to think I had become such fast friends with the Prince, while other people acted as if they had to breathe a certain way just to walk by him. I received so many side eyes, and nasty comments from the girls of our classes. It bothered me a bit, up until Noctis told me to forget about them.  

           Prompto would always walk me too and from school. He said “It’s far to dangerous for a pretty lady like yourself to walk these streets alone.” His innocent flirting always made me giggle; it was one of the things that I loved the most about him. If he would make a flirty joke to me, Noct would roll his eyes and make a guttural groan that we both could hear loud and clear. I was so grateful to find not one, but two people I could call friends.

           One day after school, as we were leaving through the main gate, Noctis stopped in his tracks, which caused Prompto to run straight into his back.

 “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Guess there is some business that requires my attention at the Citadel.” He said in the most boring tone I had ever heard him speak in.

            Just then the driver’s side door open, and out stepped a tall guy, with light brown hair and glasses. He came around the car in a quick long stride, and open the passenger side door. The man had such a serious look to him, but the seriousness wasn’t necessarily a bad kind of serious, more like a “I have a job to do, and I plan on doing it right” kind of seriousness. He had a handsome profile, and stood with amazing posture, making him appear taller than he normal would seem. I didn’t even notice that Noctis had already started walking to the car, and sat in the passenger seat. As the man closed the door, he looked back, and directly at me, causing me to shutter and look away. Prompto seemed to notice, because as soon as the car zoomed away, he was in front of my face with an annoyed look painted over his own.

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“Well, for one you’re acting like you just saw some kind of God.” He replied.

“What? No, it’s just I’ve never seen that guy before.” I began walking.

“Hey, get back here! I’m not done with you!” I could hear his steps running up     to my side.

“I’ve never seen you with that kind of look on your face. It’s like the world stopped for you or something.” He continued, while waving his hands.

“Dude, all I did was look at the guy! I’ve never seen him, and Noctis has never mentioned him before.” I tried to calm him.

“Uh huh, yeah sure thing.” He said with a super sarcastic tone.

“What are you jelly or something?” I retorted with an equally sarcastic tone.

“Huh!?” His face turned a bright shade of fuchsia.

All I could do was giggle at his reaction, then burst into an all out laugh, in which he joined me, but only in an attempt to stop himself from blushing.

“Prompto, you take things WAY to seriously.” I managed to let out between laughs.

“I do not! But it was just strange seeing you so…entranced.” He said.

“Fine, I was entranced by the man, okay? Geez, now will you drop it.” I said finally to get him to shut up.

“HA! I knew it. You think Ignis is cute.” He responded.

“Ignis?” I asked questioningly.

“Yeah that was Ignis, Noct’s advisor guy. He pretty much does everything for him.” Prompto said while taking my school bag from my hands.

“Huh, I had no idea Noct even had an advisor. I guess he is being groomed for the throne rather early.” I said.

“Yeah apparently Ignis has been by Noctis side forever, and had to learn everything there is to know about…well everything.” Prompto said.

         After that day, I only ever saw Ignis once more, picking up Noctis again. Of course I had to look at him, but I did it much more conspicuously so Prompto couldn’t pick on me about it. But Prompto, he’s a sharp one, and had already poked me and whispered, “There’s your man” In a playful voice. I elbowed him in the side as he said it, which caused him to choke out a laugh.

 ______________________________________________________________________

 (Back in class)

“Hey, so you know that assignment we were given?” Prompto said a little more quite than usual.

“Hmm, let me guess, you didn’t finish it?” I asked.

“Hehehe, you know me so well…so you think I could copy yours…. please?” Prompto said with is hand on mine.

“Why don’t you copy Noct’s?” I asked

“I didn’t do it either.” Noctis piped in.

“What the Hell? Did you guys just play Kings Knight all night?” I asked slightly annoyed.

“You know us so well.” Noct said in response.

 I sighed,

“Fine go ahead, but if I get caught letting you copy my paper, you better not let me take the fall alone!” I said handing the paper to Prompto.

“You are absolutely the best person in the whole of Eos, I swear it!” Prompto said quickly copying down the answers. Noctis looked onto the paper, and began copying the answers as well.

          Just as they began writing, The Dean walked into our room. They didn’t seem to notice, but to me it felt like something worth noting.

 “Miss Ashley Armanant.”

I looked up after hearing my name.

“Will you please come with us?” The Dean said in a soft tone.

           My stomach seemed to have disappeared, and was immediately replaced with the fluttering of a million butterfly wings. I started to stand up, and pick up my bag, my movements were so slow, I didn’t even realize until I heard Prompto speak up.

 “Hey it isn’t Ashley’s fault, you see I made her give it too me, actually I stole it from her just now!” Prompto continued to ramble.

 “Mr. Argentum, I don’t know what your are rambling on about, but that has nothing to do with this.” The Dean spoke harshly.

           Prompto sat back on his knee in his chair, looking at me with a concerned expression. I continued picking up my belongings, and walked towards the door. The dread was thick in the air, because I knew what this was about. It was just a feeling, an assumption, but these feelings of mine always seem to be right.

           Once I was outside the door, I noticed another man, he was wearing a suit, and had an ID badge with “Insomnia General” written at the bottom.

 “Come with us, please.” The man with the badge said.

“No, tell me what’s going on.” I was angry now. The butterflies turned into a raging fire in my chest.

“Miss, please let us go too another room.”

“No, you can tell me right now. Is she gone?”

“Tell me!” I spit out those last words, letting them be coated with the fire burning in my throat.

And then the word I knew was coming, finally arrived, a word that would change everything about me; everything about my life.

 “Yes.”

 That was it.

 “We will give you a ride to the hospital.” The man said as he reached for my arm, to pull me in his direction.

“Let go of me.” I said with a rough voice as I jerked my arm back.

 I didn’t need him to touch me; I didn’t need him to do anything for me. All I felt was rage, and then a wash of warmth over my body.

 “Please Miss….” He said once more reaching for me, but this time holding onto both of my arms.

 “Let go of me!” I screamed, and began to struggle in his grasp.

“Let go of me!” I still struggled, finally breaking free, but turning into another pair of arms.

 “Ashley….”

 I looked up from under the hair that had fallen into my eyes. It was Prompto, and Noctis standing to his right.

 “Prompto….Noct….” I choked out in syllables.

 My eyes became blurry, for the first time in forever. I could feel his arms around me, as I fell to my knees. Neither of them said a word, only offering a silent hand of companionship.

_______________________________________________________________________

“How did I get here?” was the only question that continued to ring through my mind.

         The faint, antiseptic scent did little in pulling my attention; in fact it just made it easier to stay in place. It grounded me in a disgusting way, the same disgusting way my stomach has felt for the last two hours. Coming to this same room for the past three months, passing the same doors, passing the same doctors and nurses, has never felt as real as it has in this very moment. Because this time, I wouldn’t be seeing Mom’s smile, I wouldn’t be hearing her asking me how my day was, I wouldn’t smell the floral perfume that she always wore, and I wouldn’t feel her skin against mine as I hugged her.

           Then I remembered, I remembered exactly how I got here.