#love not feeling overwhelming guilt and shame after every interaction i have

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 2

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5030 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

(6 Months Later)

Dick Grayson looked up at the Carr family home from his car, apprehensive to open the door just yet. It was a nice home, and from the research Dick did, a nice family lived there too.

His eyes trailed to the apartment situated above the garage, imagining the people who were inside. How were they going to react when he told them what he was there for? Scratch that, how were they going to react when they saw him?

'Should I go take a nap or are you going to man up and go inside at some point?' Oracle's sarcastic voice came through the car's bluetooth.

Dick clenched his hands around the steering wheel. Barbara - newly named Oracle - was right. It didn't matter what his friends were going to say. He needed their help, and he needed to man up.

Dick finally unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. 'I'll call you when I'm done,' he said, then ended the call before Barbara could sneak in another witty remark.

He made haste running up the Carr's driveway, then up the stairs to the apartment above the garage. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard laughter and lively chatter that made him pause. An overwhelming sense of guilt and shame and longing surged through him. Was he really going to break up the joy beyond the door? Once upon a time he would've been glad for a party, for a break from work and his vigilante duties.

His mind flashed back to that first party him and his friends had in Mount Justice. It was Wally's birthday and he had been lapping up all the attention, especially from M'gann, who had made him a cake and had in fact organised the whole party. This was before Wally realised him and Artemis were meant to be, same with Connor and M'gann.

But Y/N had known, had even pointed it out to Dick as they sat in the corner just the two of them, watching everything play out.

'They're all so thick,' Y/N said, taking a sip of her lemonade, trying to hide her knowing smile.

'How so?' Dick asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Can you not see?' She grabbed Dick's chin and guided him to look at Connor and M'gann interacting awkwardly but in a cute way, then Wally and Artemis "fighting", matching wit for wit with every snarky comment they threw at each other. 'Connor and M'gann are so into each other, and you could cut the emotional tension between Wally and Artemis it's so thick. They are all crushing hard.'

Dick watched the two couples interact a little longer and realised Y/N was right. 'Well would you look at that,' he said, turning back to Y/N. 'You're quite the observer, aren't you?'

Y/N chuckled. 'Dick, we've been best friends for three years now. If you're just figuring that out now, then you're just as thick as the rest of our friends.'

'Hey! I am not!'

'Are to.'

'Am. Not!'

'Are. To!'

The two fell into hysterical laughter, gripping onto one another so they didn't fall to the ground.

Y/N's smile came to him then, and the longing in his chest ached even more. She was more than likely beyond the door too, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. He suddenly had the thought that he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't possibly ask them - couldn't ask her - to help him. Not after what he'd done...

Before he could chicken out completely, he forced himself to knock lightly on the door.

'I'll get it,' M'gann's sweet voice called out to whoever she was with, and Dick prepared himself as he heard her walk to the door.

M'gann opened the door, and she was smiling, the remnants of laughter twinkling in her eyes. She was in her human form, but it had changed since the last time Dick saw her. Her ginger hair was now cropped just under her ears, and her features were sharper, more refined than that of a young adolescent. She wore a flattering white blouse and casual jeans, not bothering for shoes in her own home.

She was grown up. In just two years?

Her brown eyes locked with Dick's blue ones, and immediately her smile dropped as shock froze her face.

Dick offered her a small smile 'Hi, M'gann,' he said softly.

'Dick...' was all she could manage as she continued to look at him, eyes raking over him as if she were imagining things. 'What are you doing here?'

'Honey, who is it?'

Dick's guilt deepened at the sound of Connor's voice. The Superboy himself came to the door when M'gann didn't answer, and stopped in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on Dick. But he didn't stay shocked for long.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows and stepped up behind M'gann, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. 'What are you doing here?' he asked icily, eyes solely focussed on Dick.

It hurt to see such distrust in his old friend's eyes, but Dick somewhat expected that. 'Nice to see you too, Connor,' he said, slipping into his casual, carefree persona easily. If there was one thing Dick was really good at, it was putting on a mask. 'I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd swing by. It's been a while.'

'Why don't you answer my question first before you start acting like nothing is wrong,' Connor suggested, his voice taking a deep threatening tone.

'Connor, please,' M'gann said, seemingly getting over her initial shock. She placed her left hand over Connor's on her shoulder, and that's when Dick saw the shiny diamond ring on her finger. 'He's our friend.'

Dick didn't think his guilt could worsen at those three words.

M'gann opened the door wider and offered him a small smile. 'Come in, Dick. We'd love for you to join us.'

Dick flashed her a grateful smile. 'Thanks,' he said as he ducked through the doorway. He then looked from M'gann to Connor and back again. 'Congratulations, by the way.'

M'gann looked confused for a moment, then a joyful twinkle flashed in her eyes as she looked to her ring, a soft smile gracing her features. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said. 'That's what we're actually celebrating. Come on, there is food and drinks this way.'

M'gann walked back towards the party, but Connor and Dick remained in the entrance, staring at one another.

Dick took Connor in. Because of his clone genetics, Connor never actually aged. Not physically anyways. He'd changed ever so slightly from when Dick first broke him out of Cadmus, only growing a centimetre or two every year or so. His muscles had toned more having entered his theoretical twenties, and but his face still held onto those baby features he'd had since being replicated as a teenaged Superman.

Dick sized himself up against Connor and shockingly found that, for the first time, they were looking at each other eye to eye.

Connor seemed to scan Dick, too, coming to the same conclusion that Dick had changed too since they last saw each other. Dick waited for Connor to say something, but when Connor was done he gave Dick a stone cold grimace then turned to follow M'gann.

'What a warm reunion,' Dick mumbled under breath as he followed Connor down the hallway.

The hallway opened into an open-floor plan that held the kitchen, the dinning room and the lounge. Dick expected a few more people to be waiting for them, but he only spotted Kaldur lounging on the couch, drink in hand. Being the vigilant person he was, Kaldur immediately recognised Dick and placed his drink on the coffee table as he stood up.

'Dick,' he said, teal eyes wide with surprise.

'Hey, Kaldur,' Dick greeted awkwardly, ready for the same cold treatment as Connor.

Instead, Kaldur's face broke into a warm smile as he manoeuvred around the furniture to make his way to Dick. 'Old friend,' he said as he embraced Dick. 'It has been too long.'

'It sure has, buddy,' Dick responded, returning his friend's embrace.

Kaldur released him, but kept his hand on Dick's shoulder as he scanned over him. 'Look at you! You seem to be healthy and strong.'

It was true. Dick had noticed he'd muscled up a little more since leaving the team, though still keeping towards the leaner side of muscular. He certainly wasn't has bulk as Connor, or Kaldur for that fact, who Dick noted also had more muscles and toned features. Kaldur certainly filled out the black button-up he wore. But, as it was with Connor, Dick was happy to see him looking directly in Kaldur's eyes as they spoke, not from slightly below as it had been since they were children.

'Thanks man,' Dick said. 'Been working out. I see you've been doing the same, Aquaman.'

'My King left some large shoes to fill,' Kladur admitted humbly. 'But thank you.'

'So you know of Kaldur's promotion, but couldn't contact him to say congrats when it happened?' Connor interjected from his place in the kitchen.

M'gann scolded him as she placed some plates on the dining table, but the mood had already changed to tense and quiet.

'Connor's right,' Dick admitted, addressing his three friends. 'I'm sorry. These past two years... I should've stayed in contact. I wanted to. But every time I went to, I convinced myself that you didn't want to hear from me. That it would be better to leave you all be while I try to figure out myself again.'

'Oh Dick,' M'gann started, walking around the table to pull him into a hug. 'Of course we wanted to hear from you. You're our friend and we missed you. But we understand that after Wally died, you had to take a break from everything.'

M'gann pulled away and then pointed an accusatory finger at him, looking extremely cross with him. 'But if you ever do anything like that again, I swear I will hunt you down and kick your sorry ass into another universe. Understood?'

Dick nodded vigorously. 'U-Understood.'

M'gann's sweet demeanour returned and she walked back to the table to continue setting it. The three men looked at her quietly as she went about her work, until Dick turned to Connor and said, 'Your fiancée is scary.'

Dick expected another glare from the Superboy, but he was gladly surprised when the dark-haired boy nodded in agreement, face slightly pale. 'You got that right.' He then shook himself out of his frozen state of fear to help his fiancée dish out their meal.

'Give him time,' Kaldur said quietly to Dick. 'You know how Connor can be with expressing his emotions.'

'Well, he's not as emotionally constipated as he once was, I'll give him that,' Dick said. 'Unfortunately, I don't think I have time.'

'What do you mean?' Kaldur asked.

Dick went to explain but quickly decided against it. Kaldur was in the Justice League now. Dick couldn't really explain what he was planning to do. Not yet, anyway.

'Forget I said anything,' Dick said instead, flashing his charming smile and wrapping an arm around his old friend's shoulders. 'For now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed. How is it being Atlantis' new champion, first starters...'

For the next hour, it was like old times. The four of them ate and laughed and swapped stories about what Dick had missed in the last two years. They recalled some of the good times they all shared when they were on the team, and Dick convinced himself for a brief moment that they could all stay like this. Happy, carefree, young.

But Dick had come to Connor and M'gann for a reason.

Once they'd had enough of dessert, Connor offered to wash up and Dick saw his chance.

'I'll help wipe up,' Dick offered, taking his and Kaldur's plates to the sink while Connor filled the sink with soap and water. Dick waited until M'gann and Kaldur were in deep conversation over on the couch that Dick decided to broach his intended subject. 'So, how is the team going?'

'The team is doing okay,' Connor answered flatly, never lifting his eyes from his work with the plates in the sink. 'I just try to help M'gann as best as I can. We're down a few numbers since your old man decided to take half of the Justice League and our team with him in his little stunt.'

Dick winced. He recalled getting the call from Tim about it about five months ago. It had been an orchestrated walk out from over half the Justice League and their protégés, all of them wanting to go back to their vigilante ways as the League and the team had become somewhat irrelevant. Those that remained never saw it coming.

'I'm sorry about that,' he apologised, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Just felt appropriate.

Connor looked at him briefly, hands pausing in the sink as he did, and then released a sigh of defeat. 'Don't be sorry, Dick. It's not like you had anything to do with it.'

'No,' Dick agreed, 'but I should've been there at least. I should've reached out to see if you were okay. We started this team together, I shouldn't have just left it all to you.'

'Well, I know the rest of the team would really appreciate it if you came back now,' Connor said, his tone hopeful. 'That is, if you're ready to come back.'

Dick's heart lurched at the thought of going back to the team, both with want and terror. He liked Barbara, he really did. But, if he were being honest, he'd missed being a part of something bigger than himself and his own agendas.

'Connor,' Dick started softly, looking to see M'gann and Kaldur still locked in deep conversation before continuing, 'I would love to come back. Please know that. But you should know I haven't just been idly moving about the place the last two years. I've been conducting undercover missions of my own with Barbara in relation to the meta-human trafficking crisis.'

Connor's eyes widened and Dick saw he was about to raise his voice so leaned in close and hurriedly whispered, 'Keep your voice down, please.'

Connor took a second to register what Dick had said before whispering harshly, 'What do you mean you've been working on your own? You should've come to us if you were getting involved.'

'First of all, I just said I had Barbara helping me, and secondly because the team and the Justice League are full of public figures now. The missions wouldn't work if they got involved. But I've actually come here to ask you for your help on a mission, Connor.'

'Me?! Why would I-'

'Let me explain. First of all, it'll be you, me, Artemis-'

'You've pulled Artemis into this too?! Where the hell has she been, anyway?'

'Would you stop interrupting me for one second?' Dick hissed, wiping up a plate or two before returning to the conversation. 'As I was saying, from our intel, Markovia's Princess Tara has been found dead. Killed by a meta human supposedly, and I have a sneaky suspicion someone has been testing on people with the meta gene, turning them into extreme versions of their meta abilities. I need your help to find out who. As I said before, I've convinced Artemis to help already, and I was looking to you, Jefferson, and Y/N to make up the rest of the team.'

Dick looked around the room, looking at how empty the couches were around M'gann and Kaldur and sudden thought struck him. 'Speaking of which, where is Y/N?' he asked. 'I would've thought she'd be here celebrating the good news.'

He'd forgotten to keep quiet that time, and so Kaldur and M'gann looked at him alongside Connor, all looking as if Dick had sprouted three heads.

'What?' Dick asked, patting around his face. 'Do I have sauce on my face?'

'You don't know?' M'gann asked, sounding almost on the brink of tears.

That's when Dick realised something was majorly wrong, and his gut twisted with fear. 'Know what? Where's Y/N?'

'Y/N, she...' Kaldur started, then took a deep breath before continuing, 'Y/N left the team, Dick.'

'What?' Dick said, almost dropping the plate he held. 'What do you mean she left?'

'She left about six months ago,' Connor answered, washing up the last plate and emptying the sink. 'Before everyone else left. She felt like she wasn't doing enough with us anymore, so she just... left.'

'I've sent her plenty of messages,' M'gann said, 'but she hasn't answered any of them. And I can't sense her at all in the country. Even the Watchtower couldn't find her.'

Dick couldn't believe this. Y/N was gone? 'So Wonder Woman doesn't even know where she is?'

'Wonder Woman has been busy running the Justice League since Batman resigned,' Kaldur answered. 'Even if she did know where her daughter was, I don't think she'd like us to know, and I would have to agree.'

'Why?' Dick asked, suddenly very angry at Kaldur for not being as concerned as he was about Y/N. 'Do you know where she is?'

Kaldur shook his head. 'Regrettably, no. But when we last spoke, she sounded like she didn't want to be found. That she would come back to us when she was ready. I think we should respect that.'

Dick shook his head in disbelief. 'No, that's not like Y/N. She wouldn't just leave anywhere without telling anyone.'

'What, you mean like you?' Connor asked, and that cold stare was back.

'I mean she is loyal and empathetic. Surely she would know how her absence would affect the team,' Dick continued, ignoring the personal dig.

'She was loyal, Dick,' Connor countered. 'She was loyal, and stuck around with M'gann, Kaldur and I until the team got back on its feet. She held the team together when we were on the brink of falling apart. But you wouldn't know that because you weren't here.'

Dick wanted to argue but found that he couldn't. What he had thought was the best for the team turned out to be the complete opposite. He could sense it now; his relationships with his oldest friends were no longer as they were.

'You were gone for two years,' Connor continued. 'You'd be surprised as to how much a person can change in that time.'

The day Dick left flashed in his mind, and he recalled the pain in Y/N's eyes when he left her behind. He remembered how she'd held it together, but he knew she would probably cry about it later because she'd done it some many times before, always going to him to cry on his shoulder.

But he wasn't there that time. He'd left her all alone to dry her tears.

You're my best friend. Always have been. Always will be...

Dick looked to his friends again, but they could barely meet his eyes. Kaldur was disappointed, Connor was angry, and M'gann was just sad. An apology bubbled up in Dick's throat, but he didn't think it was sufficient enough for what he had done to them.

'I have to find her, then,' Dick said into the quiet room, and finally they all looked to him.

'Did you not just hear Kaldur?' Connor asked. 'We should leave her alone like she wants.'

'We don't necessarily know that,' Dick countered. 'Besides, this isn't about bringing her back. This is about me making things right with her.'

'But what if Kaldur is right?' M'gann argued. 'What if she doesn't want to be found. Maybe the right thing to do is leave her alone?'

Dick shook his head. 'She's my best friend, M'gann. I can't accept that she wouldn't want to see us ever again.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to see you, have you considered that?' Kaldur asked, his voice taking on a protective demeanour. 'The bottom line is, Dick, that you left her behind without a second thought. And she respected that, even if it killed her inside knowing that you would rather abandon her - abandon us - than face the pain of losing Wally together. She missed you every single day, and yet she still fought and trained and guided the team without faltering. And now, when she finally finds the courage to do what's best for her for once, you want to shame her for it?'

Anger surged through Dick, fiery and hot. 'I am not shaming her for anything. Do you not think I didn't think of you all every single day?'

'If you did, you didn't do anything about it, did you?' Connor mumbled, but Dick heard him just fine.

'Look, if you guys don't want to help me find her, fine,' Dick said, looking at all three friends pointedly. 'But I will find her. Because she needs to know that she was right. That I was wrong to leave and I am a terrible best friend.'

His expression softened as he looked down at his hands, imagining how long ago him and Y/N would link their pinkies. How simple friendships were back then.

'If she never comes back,' he continued, quieter this time, 'then I won't blame her. But best friends don't give up on each other.'

It was quiet for what felt like an eternity. Until Kaldur walked up to Dick and grabbed his shoulder comfortingly.

'You may be a terrible best friend,' Kaldur said, a small smile warming his face. 'But that doesn't mean your heart isn't in the right place.'

'Thanks, Kaldur,' Dick said, patting Kaldur's hand upon his shoulder.

Kaldur dropped his hand and the four of them sat down on the couches. 'Y/N didn't tell me where she was going,' Kaldur started, 'just that she needed to find out who she was again.'

'I don't follow,' Dick said.

Kaldur chuckled. 'Don't worry, I said the same thing to her when she told me. But she also said something along the lines of, "I need to find out where I've come from to find out where I will go.".'

'What the hell does that mean?' Connor asked.

'Again, not sure. But when I asked her the same question, she said she had to go back to her roots,' Kaldur elaborated. 'Something to do with where it all started. And her mother...'

Dick contemplated all of Kaldur's recollections, juggling each statement over one another to try and make sense. It was so vague, but Dick could sense there was a blatant truth staring right at them if they just looked hard enough.

Where it all began... Where she's been... Her mother...

The answer hit Dick like a brick wall.

'Themyscira,' he said softly, then more confidently. 'She's gone to Themyscira.'

'The Island of the Amazons?' M'gann asked. 'Are you sure?'

Dick nodded. 'It has to be. That's where Wonder Woman is from, and Y/N mentioned all the time when we were kids how much she wanted to go visit it one day.'

'But isn't it hidden?' Connor interjected. 'I mean, that's why they haven't gone back right? Anyone who leaves the island can never find it again.'

'Wonder Woman must've had something to help her remember,' Kaldur offered. 'Or at least guide her back home. I would suggest we go ask her, but again, I doubt she would tell us anything.'

It was like nothing had changed. The four of them had slipped back into theorising and planning and bantering as if no time had passed, as if no one had left or been promoted. It warmed Dick's heart at the thought that they all wanted to help find Y/N, even bring her home.

But Dick shook his head in dismissal. 'You guys don't have to worry yourselves over this. It sounds like I'm part of the reason she left in the first place, so it's my responsibility to find her and make this right on my own.'

'While I agree that this is partially your fault,' Connor said, earning a slight slap from M'gann beside him that he barely flinched at, 'Y/N's our friend too. The least we can do is help you find her.'

Dick smiled gratefully at his friend, who gave him a nod in return which was a start. 'Okay then...' Dick brought his watch up in front of his chest, clicked a few buttons before bringing up a large holographic screen with Barbara on it. 'Can you see us, Babs?'

'In quality HD, as well,' Barbara replied with a witty smile. 'Now, what can Oracle do for you?'

'We're trying to find Themyscira,' Dick explained. 'But it's not on any maps that we know of. Anything in any history records? Sailor sightings while out at sea?'

'You're asking me to find a mythical island from greek mythology that is meant to be hidden from Man's World and is forgotten by any who leave it?' Barbara asked incredulously, but then began typing ferociously on her end. 'Yeah, sure. No problem.'

Dick and the others waited in silence as Barbara worked her magic, files and maps and illustrations of the island popping up all over the screen around her face. After a minute or two, she spoke again.

'Okay,' she began, 'according to maps, you're right, the place doesn't exist. Even old sailors from Ancient Greece don't have any records of the place. However, I did find some similar tales being published in short stories of greek mythology and sailing journals. And all of them mention a couple of times sailing near what has now become the mouth of the modern Terme River in what we now know as Turkey, and having a strange sensation wash over them about danger. Each and every one of them have been convinced there is danger ahead and have turned away.'

'But they're just stories,' Kaldur argued. 'How can you be sure that what they speak of is the Island of the Amazons?'

'Ease up, Aquaman. I'm getting there.' A few more clicks and taps and Barbara brought up a picture of a very odd looking fish. 'Do you recognise that at all?'

Kaldur stared at the fish for a moment, contemplating its odd structure. 'I don't recognise it as a species,' Kaldur said. 'But I do recognise parts of it. It is like... different fish species have been spliced up and put back together to form this.'

'Exactly,' Barbara said, tap and clicking fervently again. 'This is a fish that has been found not near Turkey but close enough, and on multiple occasions. Now, if we isolate all these fish types... and then map out where each species usually resides... then find the crossover point for all of them...'

Dick watched diligently as Barbara isolated the fishes, highlight on the world map which species resided where, then drew lines horizontally and vertically, then zoomed in on the section the two lines crossed over.

'And there you have it,' Barbara offered proudly. 'The mouth to the Terme River in Turkey. You're welcome.'

'That makes sense,' M'gann said, looking up at the map, intrigued. 'If Themyscira is supposedly this pocket of space no human can find, then it makes sense that sea creatures of different genetic combinations would be able to breed there in peace, more than likely living there except for the stray pod or two that wander off into the open ocean.'

'I would have to agree,' Kaldur said, fascinated by it all as well. 'Who knows how many sea creatures live in harmony there.'

'Well, I'll be sure to find out when I get there,' Dick said as he stood up. 'Thanks Babs.'

'Any time,' she said, then the call ended.

'Wait, you're leaving now?' M'gann asked as Dick made his way to the front door.

'This cannot wait, M'gann,' Dick insisted, opening the front door. 'I have to speak with her as soon as possible.'

'Hey.' Dick was forced to stop when Connor grabbed him by his bicep, bringing the two of them close enough Dick could feel Connor's breath on his cheek.

'Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?' Connor asked in a hushed voice. 'Because whatever mission you think you need her for, I can assure you it cannot be more important than your friendship. Do you understand?'

Dick didn't quite understood what he meant, but he nodded anyways, and Connor let him go.

M'gann and Kaldur stepped up beside Connor as Dick made his way down the apartment stairs and back to the car. M'gann wrapped her arms around Connor's waist as he embraced her with one arm over her shoulder.

'Good luck, old friend,' Kaldur called out. 'May your journey be safe and successful.'

Dick chuckled as he waved farewell. 'I know you've always been well-spoken, but is it now a job requirement as Aquaman to sound like Gandalf?'

Kaldur pulled a face that Dick and M'gann laughed at, and Connor cracked a smile at the slight burn. Before he could psyche himself out of it, Dick hopped in the car and took off towards Wayne Manor.

'Call Alfred Pennyworth,' Dick spoke loud and clear, and the car immediately began ringing.

After a few rings, Alfred promptly answered the phone. 'Master Dick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Hey, Alfred. Is the Batwing free at the moment?'

'I've just given it a deep clean now. Why?'

'Excellent. Could you please prepare it for take off by the time I reach the Manor? I have a little excursion I have to go on.'

'Will that excursion bring the Batwing back in one piece, Master Dick?'

'...I'll be there in twenty.'

Dick promptly ended the call, not waiting to hear a scolding from Alfred. Those were never fun.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to expect when he went to Themyscira. But Steve Trevor did it once, surely it could be done again.

Either way, it was a risk Dick was willing to take to get his best friend back.

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

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[awkward-outsider]

The Owl House Headcanons pt 3 

***** This one is mostly if not all Aladarius headcanons, that I thought of instead of sleeping <3 DISCLAIMER THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF ABUSE ****

Alador used to date Darius in his 2nd and 3rd year of Hexside, before that they were best friend, they were even both sort of close with Odalia in their group of friend, but then Odalia weaselled her way into his sights, telling him Darius came from a low born family and he is just getting in the way of Alador full potential, and the potential of their business.

Alador did love Odalia in the beginning, and perhaps she even did love him in her own way, it just wasn't healthy.

After the divorce Alador had a hard time accepting that anyone especially Darius, would ever want him after what he did, and how he acted.

Beside he was now 100 % committed to being a good father to his children.

Now that Darius has adopted Hunter, he has the same goal in that regard.

Needless to say Alador tries to avoid Darius at every opportunity out of shame and fear.

But since their children are close friend, its inevitable that they would be alone together at some point.

Darius finally get's him figuratively cornered eventually and everything from the last thirty years comes out so to speak.

Darius first instinct is to be flippant and aloof in uncomfortable situation but it sort of backfires and just overwhelms Alador, and he starts to cry.

Which shocks Darius speechless (quite a feat), He is so used to Alador being so frustratingly despondent from their limited interaction over the last 30 years, and the stark change gives him emotional whiplash.

Being emotional and physically exhausted can do that to a man.

Darius isn't very good with tears, it makes him feel guilt so he tries to explain himself.

Their relationship becomes healthier after that, they can resume their friendship from their youth.

However it is some months, and awkward sexual tension before they begin their romantic/sexual relationship. Albeit with some ups and downs.

Both partier children are happy if not a little apprehensive about their parents/guardians, especially the Blight children since their father last relationship was lest then ideal.

Mentioned previously Alador will bring some bad habits from his marriage. Also Darius hadn't had any form of longterm romantic relationship, it was mostly sexual liaisons.

Darius would jokingly and or playfully insult Alador or call him a "hack" in certain situations, similar ones where Odalia would belittle him, this would cause him to flinch on instinct or just return to his despondence and become unresponsive.

For the first time in thirty years, Darius realize Alador was in an abusive marriage, He thought it was unhappy yes. Toxic probably but abusive..

Darius makes the decision to change things after that.

He doesn't want to bombard Alador with question about his marriage, he know it could bring up wounds, but he has seen signs of ptsd/ and evidence of abuse before ie Hunter.

He encourages Alador a lot in his own way, with much sincerity as possible.

When they are in private (Darius doesn't want everyone to know is he really a softie) He compliments Alador, which turns him into a blushing mess, add gentle touches ie kisses, cuddles, hand holding. It leaves the inventor putty in the coven heads hands.

Overall they have a more healthier relationship for the both of the, Alador feels wanted and loved, while Darius feels like he doesn't have to be perfect around him all the time and he will still be loved.

[wp-blaze]

Statement Earrings

One Accessory, Endless Possibilities Statement earrings can be a jewelry lover’s dream with their endless possibilities. They are bold, eye-catching, and bursting with personality. They have the power to transform any outfit from basic to breathtaking. But how can you wear them without looking overdone? Here’s a guide to maximizing the versatility of and rocking […]

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

————————————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

[akuma-hoshi]

i saw the first time ciel cums post and i present to you: ciel knows exactly what happens to him at night in his dreams, due to how many times he’s been kidnapped and such. but with all the shame and guilt that came from those interactions he just chooses to ignore it, unknowingly letting it all build up, until seb finally coaxes him into sex and the poor thing is so overwhelmed and embarrassed to be right in front of sebastian (who definitely teased him after ciel looks like he just had a mind-blowing orgasm just from his handjob)

‼️‼️ YOUR F MIND ‼️‼️ I'm going feral here ‼️‼️ No lie, I do believe Ciel understands the concept of sex & lustful things. I think it's kind of canon that he got molested rape when his brother & him got kidnapped. Also, Ciel gets kidnapped way too often & they talk about what pretty things they'll do to him every time too soo 👀

Ciel is so sensitive, it's unbelievable. His tiny body can barely take it but yet, he craves for it from his demon more & more! This boy is touch starved after all. Just a gentle touch on his neck & shivers will run down his body. It doesn't even have to be his sensitive neck. It can just be the side of his arm and he'll still feel it tingle down his toes. The butler doesn't even have to uncloth him & he'll cum from the rubbing.

I love to imagine Sebastian squeezing his baby cheeks, pin against the wall, & his long leg between the petite one. Maybe the master was being mouthing & not matching to a heir's aesthetics. Thus, making Sebastian snap & now, they're in this position. The butler's knees is against the earl's bulge. Too close. Way too close. Sebastian tightens his grip and pushes harder. It makes Ciel's cheeks redden & he can feel himself grow harder down there. Sebastian knows it. He always knows it. 😳

[caustic-light]

I want your opinion on something.

I feel that Sexphobia is rooted very deeply in contemporary society as even the most ''sex-positive'' leftists have a self or culturally imposed moral instinct to separate sexuality from other human social behaviors and functions on the persistent basis that human sexuality is inherently ''inappropriate'' and cannot and should not co-exist with other human social functions.

In my opinion, the pursuit of true ''Sex Positivity'' should involve the demolition of the barriers that keep human sexuality separate from every other aspect of human existence.

Thoughts?

This post seems pretty relevant to the question if you’ve not come across it before.

More generally I have been a half serious advocate of adapting the meaning of the term porn to refer to works that have as the first and primary purpose to elicit a very specific feeling after adapting terms like outrage porn, or sad porn in my vocabulary to describe a specific kind of content centering around topics like abuse that rather than saying something, or calling attention to something mainly use the topics as a way to invoke anger and sadness, or shock value. (There is no judgement here, don’t mistake me for saying that these works existing is bad.)

I think that sexuality, arousal and every related experience are no different from other feelings. If they weren’t ,you wouldn’t have non sexual feelings be able to be recontextualized into sexual ones (like the fear to fetish pipeline, or on the flip side a similar pipeline that turns feelings of comfort, or happiness sexual) and sexual feelings couldn’t be recontextualized into non sexual ones (like fetish objects becoming comfort items that don’t have any arousing quality just by themselves.)

I think that this is very similar to how experiences, activities, memories can shift around between associated emotions very fluently. Trauma can be recontextualized into healing. Happy memories can turn bitter and sad for example after the loss of a loved one.

Sexuality is not just a feeling, it’s also a lens through which you can experience the world around you. A way to see beauty, or love, or anything relating to associated emotions. And that, too, is very alike to other feelings. If romantic or platonic love can be both a way to interact and build relationships as well as a felt experience inside you, so can sexual, and so can all feelings. You can connect to people through pain, or anger just as much as through love and lust because feelings occupy a position as both being our internal regulation and experience of the world and as the way we connect to the world outside of our own minds.

Feelings can be visceral, we can feel them inside our body, just like arousal or sexual attraction. The heavy pull at your guts and perceived slowness of your lungs you may feel from sexuality is not fundamentally different from a happy lightness of the body, or terror clutching around your lungs, the sting of rejection in your chest, the nausea of stress and fear, the light headed success and pride, or the overwhelming heat of love. Our body reacts to them. Signs of physical arousal are not substantially different from signs of anxiety, happiness, or pain. The hormones in our brain are the same. The dopamine from an orgasm is the same chemical as the dopamine from sport, or finishing a project. The serotonin is the same between a lovers embrace and the loving bonk of the head of a cat.

So why do we not treat it the same as other feelings? Why do we perceive it as a source of corruption? Why do we see it as so shameful that we can’t even go outside naked? Why do we feel so vulnerable that we make up elaborate rulesets about consent in so many ways that have nothing to do with consent, about which relationships are appropriate and which aren’t, about which actions carry more or less guilt, about how we have to act to make sure this force doesn’t consume and corrupt us? Que bono? Who benefits from this? Who benefits from people who are insecure about and afraid of an elementary part of their own lived experiences? Who benefits from people who are so ashamed of their own bodies that they will make laws to hide them? Who benefits from the ability to politicize, demonize and criminalize a fundamental human experience? Who benefits when every marginalized group has another group of lowlifes beneath them who can be both a threat to not step too far out of line, and a vehicle to gain conditional acceptance and prioritize assimilation over freedom? Who can use this state of people to perpetuate their own goals?

But things don’t quite work like that. There is no big bad orchestrator, there’s just hurt that turns into more hurt because the systems we live in perpetuate themselves by destroying us, kind of like a depressive cycle that allows you to experience power by beating down on yourself. And the shame and fear in sexuality are passed on from generation to generation, othering sexuality among other emotions and experiences and allowing some people and groups to buy into an illusion of freedom and agency by weaponizing that shame and stigma against others. Everybody loses. But the cycle continues and perpetuates itself.

This went a little off track maybe, but as you may be able to tell I have kinda been waiting for a chance to drop this whole rant.

But yeah, sex positive activism should concern itself less with defending the current social idea of sexuality or discussing the socially acceptable bounds of such and more with calling into question the fundamentals of what we, as a society, think sex and relationships are and how they work. As well as separating the acts of sex and forming/maintaining relationships from the internal feelings we associate with them.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep 8 (part 1)

“ I hate myself, so much, so intensely, so completely, I wish I just go away, disappear for good, & yet in the end, I always protect myself, instead of taking responsibility, I run away every damn time, like now, I’m too scared to even look at your face”. The real kyo under the layers of trauma.

This quotation is why this ep is not abt romance. Instead it is abt: Extreme self-loath, faulty coping mechanism, self-awareness & inability to make correct decisions due to suicidal thoughts & non-existent self-worth.  

This is a guy who’s literally seen death TWICE at the age of 4 & 15 (his mom & kyoko), is trying to avoid the THIRD (tohru’s) & is questioning why the FOURTH isnt happening (his own death).

-The layers of a broken self: Excellent writing:

I applaud the writer for choosing fitting methods to portray her characters’ own trauma. Yuki “ prince” mask & tohru’s “i’m okay” mask were fitting to hide their trauma & uncover the real personalities. However, since kyo would be the character to hide secrets & carry guilt, the viewers need to feel he’s hiding sth w/o knowing what it is. It was done cleverly to (a) tie the plot together, (b) build kyo’s character, (c) fit the climax, (d) suit his trauma of severe guilt & self-loath. Some of the things he does can fit two genuine layers: Both layers are true:

His initial refusal to open up to tohru in early se01. (Surface layer): he doesn't know how to interact with ppl who accept him as he confessed to shigure, (Deeper layer): he avoided tohru cuz he knew her!

He initially refused to join leisure activities & trips: hot spring & kyoto trip (Surface layer): he didn’t want to go with yuki (Deeper layer) he didnt want to spend time with tohru as he was unconsciously feeling that he’s stealing from her.

It killed him to see her true lonely self behind her fake mask & approached her with advice. se1, ep5 (grandpa house), se1, ep23 (sick tohru), se2, ep 8 (hiro’s remarks) & other instances.  (Surface layer): he was noticing her issues, & genuinely wanted to help her cuz he’s kind (Deeper layer) he was falling in love w/her & unconsciously wanted her to be happy with HIM.

There were times when there was ONE layer, such as: kyoko’s 1st grave visit. He was so off, rigid, unresponsive, & completely shut down. Everybody read him. Yuki, tohru, Arisa & hana. they just don’t know why he behaving like that. his trauma manifested itself deeply that he apologized to tohru in her sleep cuz he was “ too scared to even look at your face”.

- Kyo’s trauma takes physical shape: (Clutching his heart: PAIN, clutching his stomach : DISGUST) :

While confessing to tohru, kyo’s features spoke volumes. You can see disrepair, guilt, broken soul, sadness & surrender. His body reflected his emotions:

wide eyes (disbelief), Cat eyes (utter fear)

trembling body (overwhelmed with toxic emotions)

clutching his fists (anger at self) , opening fists (surrender to darkness)

hand covering face (shame), Hand around neck as he finished confessing abt kyoko & yuki (desire for death: the final judgement)

The most focused physical appearance was his fist clutching his heart: he was in so much pain as he narrated how he loved kyoko & found a friend in her, desired to make her happy, to find tohru for her, how his his mom withered away out of fear of him & how pitiful & sad he felt towards tohru for loving someone like him. It broke his heart to see them all suffer after knowing him. All the love he felt for them squeezed his heart tight, he wanted to pull it & rip it away. Above all, he was sad to loose them all. Sad he can’t be wit them.

Then he clutched his stomach: representing the pure disgust he felt at himself. As he realized that there is no escape from being responsible for their death, as he admitted he illogically blamed yuki, his disgust with himself boiled in his stomach. What kind of disgusting horrible person does that? blame someone illogically? I’m horrible, hateful & utterly undeserving to be forgiven. Being disgusted with one’s own self! oof! it was so well-done with animation!

-Tying Mature Themes with Child Trauma:

Through kyo’s story, there were different mature themes that excellently dictate his behavior, mentality & emotional well-being: Excellent writing!

(1) The desperate need for self-worth: To be good for once!

by constantly destroying his self-worth thro contempt (the sohmas), rejection (his mom), hate (his father), pity (kazuma/ kagura, initially), kyo searched for an outlet to be a worthy human. Someone who deserves to be loved for who he is. He found that in kyoko. It is brilliant that kyo didn’t look for a mom in kyoko. He called her “ old hag”, she told him unflattering facts abt herself “ neglecting her daughter”. she was his first real friend. He found comfort being with her. He wanted to return the intimate feeling he felt deep down, kyo is so hung up on giving as much as taking as it contradicts the notion of pity. The opportunity came! Helping her find her daughter! being someone who does good! Return the daughter & feel worthy of being a true friend, a man (aka a person). “ i’ll help her, I’ll protect her for sure! it’s a man’s promise” The promise in its core is abt kyo wanting to be a person. Not a monster, or a cat. A true real boy. Away from all the toxic past emotions. Being a man: means being a big boy (person) with good achievements! All this shattered when a better boy beats him to it. The boy who was always praised, loved & respected! kyo’s self-worth diminished greatly & all the toxic emotions came back!

(2) The downfall of faulty coping mechanism: Creating a Bad Guy:

I stated before that one of my fave scenes of kyo was in se02, ep23 when kyo lashed out at yuki on the stairs upon seeing the hat & how yuki felt nothing but pity towards kyo as he was stuck in the past while yuki moved on. Brilliant scene that explains why one moved on & the other didn;t. Yuki’s faulty coping mechanism was being withdrawn & shutting himself. This coping mechanism didnt make him feel better at all!!! Also, he doesn’t have regrets nor sins, he dealt with his faulty coping mechanism with tohru’s help & the school council & healed gradually. Forever loving the writer for writing the distinction between kyo & yuki logically without painting any as monster in reality. Kyo couldn’t do as yuki for the following reasons: ( remember the old theme of everybody heals on their own pace? love it )

(a) He was addicted to shifting the blame as it made him feel better abt himself!! he shifted his thoughts from “ I wanna go away for good” “ mom, why didn’t you kill me instead” to “ it’s not my fault at all, it’s yuki” No match between the two feelings! one leads to suicide, the other leads to feeling like a mere victim. The two feelings are wrong tho & He knows that! he isn’t ready to stop the drug. He can’t face himself. “ the bad guy, if he isn’t as awful as you think, who you’re left to blame”.

(b) nothing around him can make him feel better. Tohru? but she’s kyoko’s daughter! she’s a lonely orphan, carrying her mommy’s pic taking to it! why? cuz you didn't save her! Loving tohru? is good & I wish we can run away far & be together always! wake up! why would she wanna be with a disgusting monster like you?!! You dont deserve her! you who caused his mom to die, caused her mom to die, blamed an innocent guy! Yuki? yeah, look at yuki, you can never be like him, watch as his true kindness gets noticed by tohru, the school & everybody!! he’s everything you cant be!! he should be with tohru! not you!! Master kazuma? poor guy! you brought him nothing but misery! you see his sad smile, don’t you? he’s disappoint in you. Kagura? she pities you!

(b) Kyo can’t fix his mistakes. kyo watched as yuki got back with his brother, befriended haru again, goes back to the sohma estate for the holidays. he feels he cant have similar reweds as he cant bring the things he needed. his mom, kyoko, his bio dad’s affection, kazuma’s pride in him, tohru’s love & his own satisfaction at himself. kyo just hates kyo “so much, so intensely, so completely”

(c) his fault coping mechanism mirrors his dad’s. Kids pick up toxic habits from parents all the time. Even his suicidal thoughts mirrors his mom’s! brilliant writing!

3- running away from responsibilities: perfectly constructed theme!

Who didn’t? I’m guilty! ugh! one of the best themes in furuba hands down! Any other writer would have made kyo do it once, or twice & have him face it in climax & then deal with it. but NOT takaya-san! She excellently took her time with kyo repeating this exact mistakes over & over to better portray the theme & take it out from the boundaries of story-telling to realistic depiction & logical gradual progression:

kyo ran away from being accused of killing his mom (he’s completely innocent & isn’t responsible for his birth’s deformity/curse nor his mom’s suicide)

kyo ran away from accepting kyoko’s words that yuki isnt bad & most importantly that kyo is good. He had found relief in blaming yuki, now you wanna tell me I should look into myself? I’m bad! i dont wanna look. your words are weird “ no bad or good”  Everybody says otherwise, the sohmas, dad & mom! kyo angrily ran away (completely guilty but excused as child would be).

kyo ran away from facing kyoko’s body & wanted to punish himself with death. Depression took over him as “ master tried to get me to keep living”. (completely guilty in his own eyes, if only he tried to safe her, even if he transformed, Even if she still died regardless!!! he hates himself for choosing the disgusting kyo over the kind kyoko)

kyo ran away from telling tohru the truth upon seeing her, pretended not to know her, slowly dying each time she smiles, slowly falling in love & wishing for a chance with her, a chance he believes doesn't deserve.

Kyo ran away in se01, ep14 when remembering the accident as shigure  triggered him. Tohru consoled him & he lost the chance to come clean.

kyo is running away now. Unable to face her “ too scared to even look at your face”. “ I cant forgive me! I dont want you to fogive me either”

So, after running away the first time, kyo should’ve learned better, right? now in the climax, he shouldn’t  have run away? Yes, he should. cuz simply, he isnt ready. We dont learn from our mistakes cuz someone told us. we learn when we fix the core issue. A guy who thinks he deserves a chance in life would stand tall, confess his sins, argues, talks, tells the story unbiased,  then waits for verdict. kyo thinks he doesn’t deserve to be alive, thus, tells the story with server bias towards judging himself as unworthy. HE decided the verdict & didnt wait for tohru: “ I cant forgive ME! I dont want you to forgive me either” That’s why toru’s words fall flat. “ why cant you see the truth: I love you” he can’t tohru!! cuz right now it is NOT abt love. It is abt trauma!

4- Sever guilt & desire for disappearance (death):

As adults our mistakes loom over us & we’re constantly reminded of the “ what if I had acted differently”. This ties with kyo witnessing his mom’s horrible death at 4 years old. Death in itself is scary. A loved ones death is devastating. Watching it unfold in shocking unprepared way is destructive. kyo was destroyed. Not enough: he gotta carry the guilt as his dad & the sohma hammer the accusations. He gets another chance & loves another person. Only to watch the blood splash reach his shoes. “Guilty” whispers the past. “Guilty” confirms the present. He stands in front of the most precious person to him. Now what? If tohru forgives you, the pain goes away???? You wouldn’t repeat the ultimate mistake of killing her, would you? you ominous creature. Her mom warned you. The nightmare stands hovering over kyo’s head, waiting to come true. IT WILL COME TRUE!!! OMG!!!

if Akito does it. It wouldn’t be kyo’s fault, right?  If the car hit kyoko, it’s not my fault, right? if my mom did it herself, it wouldn’t be my fault, right?

But if only kyo didnt ran away, tohru would be alive. If only I pulled kyoko, she wouldn’t have died. If only I wasn’t born, mom wouldn't have killed herself.

The “ if only “ that killed kyo’s mom as she lamented “ if only I gave birth to the rat” will eventually destroy kyo! ugh!!! AMAZING WRITING!!!

5- The Right Time to Heal (self-desire or outside help?):

When yuki was trapped in Akito’s room, haru visited to help. did yuki accept it? NO. yuki didnt even remember much of it. Why? cuz it wasn’t the right time & yuki was too deep into darkness to notice, to accept & to change. It wasnt until he was out, in co-ed school, rebelling against akito, when tohru came, he accepted her, then it lead him to accept School Council & haru. Tohru had Arisa & hana, but never went to them in her darkest moment, hiding she was living in a tent, they were hurt & confronted her, still she kept hiding her fears, sadness & darkest thoughts, interfering in Arisa’s life to provide help, but never allowing them to interfere, until kyo came & broke her mask, she started to complain, talk, show true emotions & want things! She opened up to Isuzu, too. Arisa & hana weren’t the right ppl at the right time for tohru to heal. Kyo had kazuma to teach him better, kyoko to make him notice his mistakes, tohru to love him unconditionally, the right ppl, but all that was in the wrong time cuz he’s in his darkest moment now like yuki was, unable to see or accept. Healing requires self-desire & outside help, but it gotta be in the right moment, when you can see beyond the abyss & into the faint light of dawn. That’s when words will reach the heart. Kyo need to fall so hard, in order to stand up again. Today, he unloaded his burden, threw up the disgust he felt towards himself, spewed all the hate against the real bad guy: himself! Kyo is kyo’s bad guy, has always been. He needs to let go of hating himself & accept the kind gentle kyo that kyoko & tohru saw ~

Side Notes:

This ep is why furuba wins & deserves 20 years of recognition among manga-readers! this story is real! it is NO sweet fairy tale of two lovers. It is abt one’s self & desire to live. All of them struggle with  this particular desire: kyo, tohru, yuki & the rest.

kid kyo was looking for young tohru all night! T_T

this ep of kyo confessing/ narrating his past , reminded me of yuki’s 3 eps of him confessing/ narrating his past!!! ugh! I wish tohru had that! ahhhh.

The 4 months in the mountains weren’t training!!!!! they were depression & suicidal thoughts! ouch!!

Perspectives are what dictate our feelings: Through yuki’s eyes, kyo was so happy with a loving father, friends around him & a house outside the sohmas. Thus, yuki envied him & wished to die not knowing kyo was living in trauma & feeling utter contempt & self-loath. Through kyo’s eyes, yuki was so happy with a living loving family, friends around him & a house with respect. Thus, kyo envied him & wished to die Not knowing that yuki was suffering abuse & neglect!

I love the pacing of this ep!!! It gives room to feel pain & understand the situation!!! I didn’t feel the headache of the bullet train!! THANK GOD!!! SO SATISFIED!!! I was invested all the time!

kyoko’s “ I’ll never forgive you” really destroyed kyo & went beyond it to destroy her own daughter! AAAAAAHHHH ~ T_T

I have some issues with the “ I forgot” part. It makes no sense that they make him forget the accident only to do the cheap cliff hanger in ep 6, then lazily weave it into his confession to tohru in ep. 8. He always remembered the accident. Apologized to tohru in her sleep in se01. ep14 for that exact accident, Then in se02, ep 9. It was ALWAYS in his mind! ALWAYS. Sorry Mr. Director. very lame try. lol.

The only thing I didn’t like is the music! very weird choices throughout the ep! especially at the end. Why a happy music over kyo’s “ I’m disappointed in you? lol!! its sad & tragic?! weird!!!!

I will talk abt Tohru will be in part 2. (her choice, kyo’s answer to her & the need to let go of her mom, the sohmas & of... kyo.

[wp-blaze]

Distractions

We suffer from distractions. It’s not only the high tech, although that is definitely a problem – our phones and computers and endless entertainment sources and open AI and, and, and. More than anything else, we are distracted by our concerns. No, our worries. Perhaps it makes us feel virtuous to worry, to endlessly bemoan […]

[bluestarscribbler]

Writing Characters With Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)

Hi everyone! :) How are you doing? 🥰💕 Today I'll be outlining the main do's and don't's of writing characters with SAD, as well the definition and the main symptoms of SAD.

DISCLAIMER: I am not diagnosed with SAD myself; however, all of the following information had been obtained from different posts and sites of people that have first-hand experience with SAD. I will be linking those at the end of today's post, please feel free to check them out.

What I learned from the intense research I did is that nobody has social anxiety the same. Some people feel like they can't breath. Others tend to laugh in awkward moments. Nobody is the same. No character is exactly alike. You can't get it "right," because it's not an exact science. So don't feel too pressured while writing a character with SAD, there's no "one" way to write them. A helpful approach is to think what about how the SAD fits into the story you want to tell because the topic is really as complicated as any other and you can view it from many different angles and go as deep as you want - depending on what this story you're trying to tell calls for. So rather than trying to get an objective view of this complicated topic, focus on the aspects that are relevant to the story.

What is Social Anxiety Disorder?

AKA Social Phobia, SAD describes an intense fear and avoidance of negative public scrutiny, public embarrassment, humiliation or social interaction. This fear can be specified to particular social situations; such as public speaking, or more typically, is experienced in most/all social interactions. Those suffering from SAD will often attempt to avoid the source of their anxiety; this is particularly problematic and in severe cases can lead to complete social isolation.

Symptoms of SAD:

person paces a lot

very fidgety

stops talking mid sentence...a lot

wrings hands

angered by slightest infractions of others

finds fault in others a lot

hard to breathe when focus/attention is shifted to them

sweating profusely

mumbling

shrinking to hide

lack of eye contact/wandering eyes

painfully shy and withdrawn

picking the nails, picking the skin

always the person in the back of the room or in a corner

gravitating toward the first person they recognise and following them everywhere

headaches

finding ways to avoid certain situations

crying before or after social events

feel dizzy and the entire world becomes very far away

feeling like chest was caving in

assuming that everyone is focusing on them

assuming that people are laughing about them

grind their teeth a lot

bite their knuckles

tap out drum patterns with their feet or fingers

nausea and vomiting

muscle weakness

migraines

heart arrhythmia

increasing nervous tics

Keep in mind that social anxiety exists on a spectrum. Not everyone is paralysed at the smallest conversation, but some are. Others feel mild discomfort at certain types of socialising. It’s all relative.

DO'S:

DO write in a lot of internal dialogue. People with SAD say that most of their anxiety is created by their own internal rumination. So, add a lot of overly self-critical internal dialogue and have them think about trivial things that they may or may not have gotten wrong for hours after the fact. People with SAD also tend to avoid initiating with anyone, instead preferring for them (the other person) to initiate — because then they know they're not inconveniencing them (the other person). If a person with SAD does have to interact with people then they tend to plan and rehearse what they're going to say to them. However, once the social interaction has begun, there will be very little internal monologue. In those situations, the character is very much relying on instinct. After the interaction, if the character feels that they messed up (which is likely; be sure to pick up on even the slightest fumbles or awkward pauses), they should keep thinking about how they're an idiot and they want to never have to talk to another person again, because they know it'll end the same way. If they feel like they did a good job, they should express surprise at how well it went, congratulate themselves, and say that they should maybe do this more often — although they probably won't.

DO let them have observational skills. Part of the anxiety stems from not always knowing how to/being good at socialising. Thus an anxious person will watch others closely for clues to their performance and acceptance. While it doesn’t always tell the person how they are doing, it does teach them a lot about the people around them and how they feel about each other. The person in a group with SAD may actually have a better idea of who in the group are friends, enemies, annoyed with the others, think they are better, have crushes, and so on. Having SAD doesn’t mean that a person doesn’t know social cues, it means that they underestimate their ability to use them. Don’t confuse SAD with autism.

DO make it influence all decisions. This is one you can do as the writer and not include every bit of internal dialogue. Just keep in mind that Every decision an anxious person makes is put through the anxiety filter first. Even if they are doing things by themselves, they have to evaluate the chances of meeting people, meeting people they know, having to talk to people when they are done. Keep that in mind when writing these characters in order to keep their personality consistent. That said, in general you can think of someone with SAD feeling physically, mentally and emotionally uncomfortable and "out of place" in ordinary social situations - they want out of it, looking for the door, excuse to leave, cut the interaction short. There could be a sense of shame, guilt and self-loathing about not being "good enough", or that there is something broken and wrong with them (or society).

DO give them other traits. Make sure you give them other traits that influence their decisions and drive their motivations. Someone can have anxiety and also love adventure, want to save all the stray dogs, want to help orphans, want to be a basketball hero, etc. One of the big problems with SAD is that it interferes with a person’s desires to do and be other things. It doesn’t always win though. And sometimes a person may decide that an awkward encounter or two is worth taking part in some other activity they love. Just remember to keep your characters balanced.

DO let them find each other. SAD is probably more common than you’d think. Not everyone has a crippling case. You can have characters share their anxiety with each other and comfort each other and help each other through tough times. SAD can make a person feel isolated but they don’t have to be, and often aren’t as isolated as they think. That observational skill can also help them find the right people to share their feelings with. Not all socialising is terrifying, it can often be cathartic.

DON'T'S:

DON'T make them hate people. Social anxiety does not mean that the person afflicted doesn’t like people or always craves solitude. One of the harshest aspects of SAD is that a person may want companionship and friends but still have uncontrollable discomfort when faced with making friends or spending time with the friends they already have. This constant tug-of-war between wanting friends and feeling the anxiety around people can cause a lot of internal pain and lead to other emotions and conditions such as depression. Someone with SAD can have friends. Even a lot of friends. But certain factors may influence how a person with SAD chooses friends more than they influence others. The level of contact is different for everyone and there will be some friends who can take up more time while not taking up more energy on the part of the anxious person. However, SAD can get so bad that the person with it is unable to leave the house for days at a time, ghosting on all social engagements, not answering their phone and ignoring all texts; but that still doesn't mean they hate people.

DON'T always make them succeed. If you are writing about a person with SAD and they are forced again and again to go outside their comfort zone, make them fail. Have them go to a meeting and then duck down a side corridor at the last minute and disappear. Have them talk to a person and then freeze up in the middle of a conversation, at a loss for words. The longer they go without knowing what to say the stronger the anxiety gets and the harder it is to think. Or have them execute the socialising brilliantly but then go into the bathroom and cry from the overwhelming sense of effort it took to look normal. And just because they have had a few successes doesn’t mean that they will start succeeding every time. Sometimes, the energy it takes, even when the interaction was a success, means that next time they are reluctant or too exhausted to do it again.

DON'T always give them "tells". Anxious people can be very good at hiding it. In the example above of the person who socialises brilliantly and then cries in the bathroom, no one knows how hard it was. They only saw the brilliant “performance.” Keep that in mind. Not all people uncomfortable with socialising are bumbling awkward goofballs. Sometimes they actually appear very cool and collected.

DON'T suddenly make their anxiety disappear when they're at the end of their character arc. This pisses me off, anxiety is a life-long condition. It cannot be "overcome" easily. However, the person with it can learn to live with it. They can visit a psychiatrist, get pills prescribed or change their lifestyle completely to fit around their SAD. A person with anxiety always thinks about their anxiety. Even when they are happily at home reading a book, sometimes they will think about an upcoming engagement, or wish they made friends like the characters in their book. Every time a person with SAD makes plans they have to run through a list of criteria before nailing anything down. Will they have time before and after to prep for and cool down from the experience? Is it something they have done before and feel comfortable doing? Can they back out at the last minute if they feel too overwhelmed that day? These are just a fraction of the things that go through an anxious person’s mind before committing to plans. Again, this isn’t an absolute, but for many people with SAD it is a defining characteristic of who they are. They don’t talk to a single person, even a spouse sometimes, or make a doctor’s appointment without the anxiety affecting how they feel, think, and behave. It is always there. Always.

That's it for today folks! I hope everyone has an absolutely fantastic day! 😊❤

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Shame in the way that I am - Tool

As with everything involving Tool, this is more intense. Please heed the warnings and feel free to dm for more info or for an overview of what happens.

This piece is most about self-hate and shame. Dead dove, do not eat.  

CW: loss of bodily autonomy, self-hate, low self worth, forced intubation, force feeding, restraints, very brief noncon touch (nonsexual), angst, shame.  

Every moment was endless. They dragged on, uncaring of the person they dragged along with them. JJ had always relied on the fact that time passes, but it was impossible to ground himself in anything anymore. There was nothing, no handholds for him to grab onto as the horror continued. 

There was nothing but the Machine. 

It was darkness, noise, weight - control. It felt as if there wasn’t even the smallest portion of JJ left. Every sensation, every breath wasn’t theirs. It was whole and all encompassing. They shivered, unable to continue like this. Their mind would snap long before their body would. 

In some ways, JJ was afraid it already had. 

The Machine inflated his lungs, deflated them when it determined the breath was long enough. It was robotic, sickening. They had tried to fight it at first, but they were no match for a machine with no sense of compassion or respect. 

And yet, JJ still tried to fight. 

He fought for his family. They were waiting for him, they would notice that he was missing. Doubt and guilt stabbed at his chest even as he tried to dissuade it. They would know he was missing - but how would they find him? He hadn’t texted, hadn’t told them about the last minute call. They were expecting him in a few days for family dinner. What would they do when he didn’t show? 

JJ fought for their friends. They would notice first, they were sure. They would notice when they didn’t show to game night, when they didn’t return their texts or dms. Charlotte sent them game requests nearly everyday. They had a server. She would notice - she would know. But she wouldn’t be able to find them. 

He fought for his classmates. His professors would notice the very next class session. When JJ wasn’t in the front row, when he didn’t talk their ear off after class. The club, all the organizations that he was a part of. They would see when the reminders weren’t sent out, when there was no shared doc link or meetings. Even the slackers that texted him a day before the test would notice. But they wouldn’t suspect his internship mentor - especially since he hadn’t officially started the internship yet. 

JJ fought for their own future. They fought because this wasn’t what they wanted. This wasn’t what they were meant for - they knew it. The world was bigger than this, bigger than they had barely even began to understand. There was still so much to learn and see and experience. There was so much that they still needed to do - all of it outside of this room. 

He had tried to fight - he had tried with everything. But his everything wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t enough. JJ still wanted to fight, wanted to struggle and scream and kick, but his body had shut down. 

He couldn’t help but hate it. Hate how it froze and went still. He still had things to do! People that loved him! Why didn’t help him, why did it stop fighting? 

Even before it started, JJ could feel the slight vibrations from the tube that trailed across their cheekbone and into their nose. It meant the pump was turning on, and that they had scant moments to try and prepare themself for the next horrific sensation. They squeezed their eyes shut at the last moment, balling their hands into fists. 

There was no taste, no sensation or satisfaction. All it was was weight -  invasive, unwanted weight that easily flowed through the tubbing and into his stomach. Tears streamed down his face as his throat still tried to swallow, still tried to find the slightest sliver of normalcy in this nightmare. Even that was taken, only reminding him of the other tubes and devices that were forcibly stuffed inside. 

By the time the pump stopped, JJ was trembling and nauseous. They would never get used to this, could never get used to this. How could someone do this to another person? How deranged, how sadistic and inhuman do you have to be to do this? To create this? 

They knew about instincts. They had taken classes, listened to experts and resources out of curiosity. They had thought it fascinating, thought it a mere topic of research or conversation. Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn. Something they discussed - not experienced. Not loathed. 

They wanted to fight. Their body froze. 

And in the moment, they couldn’t accept it. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. They wanted to fight. They wanted nothing more but their body had other plans. It shut down, it betrayed them. Instincts were supposed to keep them safe, to keep them out of trouble, to keep them alive. 

The table they were strapped to shifted slightly, the electrodes on their legs buzzed to life. Not painful, but enough to force their legs to twitch slightly. To force the blood to keep moving, to force their muscles to not go lax, to keep their body healthy while their mind shattered. 

With the next controlled breath, he whined out a small sound. Something, some other input besides darkness and control. The man had come by a few times, and each time he had struggled or cowered away. Now, he would have given anything for a moment of company, for a moment of comfort and being worthy of being looked at. 

Time didn’t exist in hell. It didn’t exist between the breaths or the cycles of the pump. There was no order in suffering - just suffering. He tried to think, tried to occupy his mind but the thoughts spiraled, floated in and out as if on the waves. There was no time, no use, no life outside of this. 

Eventually, the anger and resentment at their instincts faded into something else. Shame. Their body was keeping them alive, was keeping them safe the best way that it could. It was trying in the only way it was equipped. Who were they to say that that wasn’t good enough? If they had fought, they may have been killed. No, no it wasn’t their body’s fault. 

It was theirs. 

They were the one that was weak. They were the one that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t right. How could they face their friends, their family, their classmates - their future when they were the weak link? When times got hard, they resulted in turning on even their closest ally, to blaming their own faults on it. 

No, he was the one at fault. He was the one that was useless and broken and worthless. The world would be better off without him, better off without someone so spineless and weak. No one needed a needy thing following them around, begging for attention and help. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve anything. 

This, this is what he deserved.  

The next time the footsteps clicked in the halls, the next time his world began to brighten and there was another form in the room, he was desperate for it. The man, the Mechanic chuckled, gently running a finger across his cheek bone. He shivered, desperation for interaction overwhelming any hate he could muster. 

“I came up with a little name for you. Tool. Do you like it?” 

Tool nodded immediately, without consideration. It was all he was worth.

~

@unicornscotty @as-a-matter-of-whump @starnight-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-it @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @valkyrie-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @whole-and-apart-and-between @misspelledwitch @fanmanga1357-blog @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat

[journalxxx]

Green Light

Toshinori Yagi had never been much of an avid reader.

In his youth, bursting with energy and good intentions as he was, the mere act of standing still in any one place felt like torture. There were places to be, people to save, villains to track down, not to mention training. Literary and artistic pursuits were valuable and commendable, but Toshinori himself preferred leaving them to others, while he himself could fulfil the task of ensuring that such talented individuals could let their inspiration bloom in a safe and hospitable society. Even in the latest years, when the burden of heroic activities weighed too much on his wrecked body to allow him more than a handful of work hours per day, he hadn't quite managed to find a taste for books, and had filled his sadly abundant downtime with movies instead.

Yet, that evening, a long-forgotten memory of literary nature sprang to his mind. David Shield, his brilliant wingman from the days spent in America after graduating, had been a proper bookworm - a strangely action-inclined one, but a bookworm nonetheless, and his love for novels was second only to his overwhelming passion for science and engineering. He used to chat with his Japanese friend about his favorite reads, and Toshinori recalled a bit of a heated rant about The Great Gatsby. A green light, twinkling in the darkness, a visible reminder of human ambition and strife for greatness, even a metaphor for the great American dream itself. A beacon of hope that stole one's gaze and breath, both out of satisfaction and frustration. Toshinori was reminded of that conversation, that evening, as his eyes followed the electric green light zooming around in the darkening sky, hopping over and between buildings with astonishing speed, closer and closer.

"You hurt?" Toshinori asked, as soon as Midoriya landed, after decelerating with a couple of hops and stopping precisely next to him.

"I'm... all right." The hooded figure replied, ever so slightly out of breath because of the effort, or maybe because of the dust cloud he'd raised.

"Your arms and legs?"

Midoriya had developed a worrying tolerance to pain in the last year and his definition of 'injury' had shifted accordingly, so Toshinori couldn't help ascertaining his student's safety to the point of redundancy. His insistence was met with a confident eyes as the boy uncovered his face and flexed his fingers, proving that the latest addition to his combat equipment had worked as intended. Toshinori had warned him early on about the dangers of relying too much on gauntlets, braces and assorted devices, and there had been no signs of him having forgotten about that. Still, he reminded him once more of the importance of avoiding wounds and shattered bones in the current circumstances. Midoriya accepted his mentor's words without a trace of annoyance, as always.

Toshinori's mobile rang. It was Hawks, at it again with his unrequested commentary on the operation. Midoriya was gone with a giant leap before Toshinori could complete two sentences. He politely deflected his colleague's nagging as the dust settled anew. Lots of dust, but not a single mark or crack on the asphalt touched by Midoriya's feet. The corners of Toshinori's lips curved upwards. Perfect control.

Very few things in his life had terrified All Might - the unwavering, the unflinching, the indefatigable All Might - as much as the sight of black tendrils sprouting uncontrollably from his student's hand during class training. Those black tendrils that looked so strikingly similar to his nemesis' own Rivets, so much that they had made him fear that All For One somehow, in some wretched, unfathomable way, had manifested on the spot, or even possessed Midoriya himself, and was ready to destroy, stab, maul every single one of the budding heroes right before his eyes. In hindsight, he could only feel shame at the memory of his behaviour during that emergency. He could only stutter vague and panicking warnings during those dreadful minutes, while Aizawa and Vlad had assessed the situation with the proper detachment.

The aftermath of the event had been deeply confusing. A new quirk, inherited from one of the predecessors? The predecessors themselves, now able to interact with Modoriya's mind? Toshinori had found himself at a loss. He was supposed to guide his student to the fullest understanding of his power, but those developments were completely unheard of. He offered the boy his most confident smile and reassurements, for they were what he needed, but privately... he worried. He worried very much. And before he knew it, the Paranormal Liberation war had left his precious successor a heap of broken limbs and regrets.

And then Midoriya had mastered Black Whip. And Float. And Danger Sense. And Smokescreen. All within few months. All with virtually no guidance (except from the several entities dwelling in One For All, probably).

'Unbelievable' didn't even begin to describe the scope of that feat. Toshinori had watched in sheer awe his pupil bounce back from the tragedy with renewed vigor, purpose and skill. He had willingly shouldered responsibilities that no one would have forced even on a professional hero and now here he was, acting as the bait for the most dangerous villain in the world, while also saving innocents in the process. As it turned out, the new wielder of One For All was managing just fine.

Ostensibly, at least.

Twenty-seven hours later, it started raining. The dull sound of the raindrops hitting the car hood and the regular beeping of Midoriya's GPS lulled Toshinori into another bout of nostalgia as he drove along the main street. It happened more and more often lately, maybe he was really starting to get old. The beaming smile of the boy upon receiving his lunchbox had warmed Toshinori's heart, but it had also made him wonder... Had he been as appreciative towards Nighteye in the past? He had never neglected to thank his sidekick for his invaluable support (especially on the bureaucratic side of things), but... Had he really put his whole heart into it? Had he really conveyed the same honest thankfulness he saw in young Midoriya's eyes whenever Toshinori handed him a meal, or checked his equipment, or removed a bystander from a tricky situation? One thing was certain, and that was that he hadn't been nearly as mindful of his sidekick's warnings back then. Maybe, if he had...

Well. No point in dwelling on the past. He had given his apologies, he had said his goodbyes. He'd have to content himself with those. What mattered now was helping Midoriya, in any way he could. His arguable teaching privileges had practically disappeared since Midoriya had started dealing with new, never-before-manifested traits of One For All. Still, competent and timely support was a blessing even for the mightiest of heroes, and Toshinori would be damned if he didn't try his hardest to fill that spot. He'd-

The laptop gave a louder beep, and then silence. The green dot pointing at Midoriya's position disappeared. Toshinori cursed and stepped on the gas. He took notice, for the briefest fraction of a second, of the cylindrical object bouncing towards his car, until it was close enough to realize-

There was a flash, a violent impact, and then nothing.

There was darkness. And pain. His head throbbed horrendously, and he struggled to string together any thoughts. There was liquid trickling down his face, some cold and some warm. He was drenched, and cold, and very nauseous. He was standing vertically, but not by his own will. He felt like a coat hanging from a rack. There were voices, one extremely close, shouting so loudly that it made him whince. He couldn't seem to make out the words. There was a much farther scream-

He recognised it. With a disproportionate effort, he opened his eyes. There it was, the familiar green glow. The boy, sizzling with energy, stood out like a mystic vision in the darkness. He looked furious, and ready to sprint towards him.

But he was waiting. Waiting for an opening, Toshinori realized, an opening that whoever was jerking the collar of his jacket didn't seem to offer. Toshinori didn't feel capable of summoning enough balance or coordination to move, let alone put up a fight, but could he provide a distraction anyway? Maybe. Yes. Yes, he could.

Without thinking twice, he flexed every single muscle in his body, and shouted. He shouted only to add to the surprise effect at first, then he kept going because it really fucking hurt. But it worked. The sudden increase of his body mass threw the mysterious assailant off balance, and he was dropped on the ground. Instantly, a powerful air blast signalled Midoriya's attack, and then all hell broke loose. Feeling as if each of his limbs had caught fire, wrecked by a violent coughing fit, Toshinori could only squirm on the spot as he felt vicious blows landing in his vicinity and on the surrounding buildings, more screams and undefined explosions, until a stronger gust of wind lifted his shrunk form in the air and sent him flying like ragdoll. His back hit something much harder than him, and darkness descended again.

There was darkness. Complete, impenetrable, all-encompassing. He had no pain, no form, no body. Nothingness stretched uninterrupted in all directions. He was nothing and there was nothing, save for the small crowd of entities not farm from him. He listened.

"...coordination. It had to be planned carefully to avoid all the precautions you took. You bear no guilt of carelessness." A quiet voice said. There was barely any inflection to its tone.

"It wasn't enough!" The green voice replied, upset. Unlike the others, this one had a head, though only the back of it was visible. "It could have gone a lot worse! He could have-"

"Pull yourself together, brat!" A rough voice scolded. "This isn't anything worth sobbing about. Start thinking about how not to make it happen again instead. I swear, you should be used to this sort of thing right now..."

"Not everyone has experienced this level of social instability and violence in their lives since such a young age, Banjo. It takes time to adapt." Another voice said. A kind voice. A woman's voice. He... knew that voice...

"But what else can I do?!" The green one interjected. "I'm training as fast as I can, I'm working on strength and control, I can use more quirks... We've teamed up with the three top heroes in the country and it still isn't enough...!"

"You cannot expect this war to go like a carefully planned game of chess. There will be mistakes, accidents and bad luck. There will be more blood spilled, on both sides. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you will start making some real progress."

" Please, let's not-"

"I will NOT accept it! I won't accept that anyone- especially not him-" The green one boomed and turned to point at him. He saw his face and his tear-stained cheeks, he met his big, bright eyes-

His eyes snapped open.

He heard a gasp, steps, then Midoriya's floating head entered his field of vision.

"All Might! Are you okay?"

He blinked. It was still dark but nowhere near... He could see a ceiling now. He tried turning his head to the side, but a powerful throb coursing all over his skull stopped him. He shut his eyes with a groan and brought a hand to his head, finding layers of bandages in the way.

"Ngh... kid... " Toshinori managed. "Where...?"

"The basement in Daina. We brought you here after we captured the villains. Do you remember?"

He remembered something. Driving, and the glint of the granade right outside his windshield... after that, nothing.

He finally managed to open his eyes. The messy, familiar layout of workbench, cot, monitors, assorted devices and cooking appliances of the hideout was a welcome sight that grounded him a little more.

"I thought we should bring you to a hospital, but Hawks was sure you only had a mild concussion." Midoriya continued.

Right. The car had probably protected him from the brunt of the blast. Hawks himself had provided them with that particular vehicle, describing it as 'practically a tank, but faster'. Evidently he wasn't just overselling it.

"Good. Hospitals are the last places we need to be right now." Toshinori knew that their plan of using Midoriya as bait could fail in a million different ways. Primarily because of his pupil's intense desire to protect... well, anyone. His schoolmates were well-guarded, his mother was well-guarded, but the potential victims were countless. All For One could easily take any random hospital in the country as a hostage and demand Midoriya to hand himself in in exchange for the patients' safety, for example. There was really no need to give him ideas and hang a big, red target on a specific one by putting a wounded All Might in it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Midoriya asked. "Hawks will send someone over if you need better treatment-"

"I'm fine, don't worry." Surprisingly fine, all things considered. Now that his head was clearing, Toshinori realized the few pangs he felt here and there were way more manageable that he had any right to hope. No doubt he'd be missing that temporary bliss as soon as the painkillers wore out. "And you?"

"Just a few scratches. Nothing debilitating." Toshinori gave him a good once-over. The kid didn't seem to slouch or hold himself stiffly, which was a huge relief. His expression was somewhat strained though. "You've been out for a while. Do you think you can eat something?"

"Ngh. Not sure I can stomach much at the moment."

"Some tea, at least?" The kid wasn't even trying to hide his concern, bless him.

"How long was I out for, exactly?"

"Seven hours."

Mh, maybe he should gulp down something. "...Tea it is, then." Toshinori conceded with a sigh, and Midoriya moved away to busy himself with the pot.

Toshinori wasn't especially fond of describing the several, thought-provoking ways in which his bodily functions had been messed up by All For One's desperate retaliation, but living in close quarters with Midoriya had outed them despite his best efforts. The boy had seemed especially distraught to hear of his eating habits, for some obscure reason. Lacking a stomach to store and properly digest food, Toshinori had to stick to a rigorous habit of six to eight meals a day, scheduled every two or three hours, paying a certain attention to the size and composition of each portion. Accidentally overworking his intestine with an excessive meal would lead to a range of unpleasant consequences, which went beyond a simple rush to the toilet. On top of that, he also had to actively remember to eat. Turns out that the stomach is the major organ creating the sense of hunger and fullness and, without one, one could easily forget about eating altogether, or overdo it without noticing. And all this, with the addition of some vitamin supplements, had the effect of keeping him just well-fed enough to grant him his haggard scarecrow build.

Sure, all these complications turned what ought to be one of life's pleasures into a bit of chore, but the habit was so ingrained in him by now that he was barely bothered by it all. Plus, it could be a lot worse. At least he wasn't doomed to a lifetime of IVs, as he had first dreaded. Still, Toshinori hadn't failed to notice the hints of sadness in the boy's eyes whenever he glanced at the small amounts of easily digestible food in his dish.

"So, what happened out there?" Toshinori asked, after the silence had stretched long enough for his head to settle down.

"We aren't sure of the details yet. You and I were attacked simultaneously, presumably by All For One's men. They didn't confess anything while I was there, but Endeavor said he'd take care of the interrogation." Midoriya answered as he poured the tea into two small cups.

"Oof, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes."

"He was quite... angry. Not only at the villains. I think he tried to set you on fire while I wasn't looking."

"To cauterize my wound, surely. He's such a gentle, caring soul." He winked at the boy, who finally let a small smile grace his features.

Midoriya helped him sit up on the cot, which Toshinori achieved with some mild dizziness and coughing up just two little drops of blood. A good sign. He took the steaming cup he was offered and blew on it.

"I hate to admit it, but they got the best of me very easily. I'm starting to lose count of how many lives I owe you, my boy."

"I... I'm not sure I was the one who saved you though." Midoriya bit his lip, his gaze falling to the floor. "I think I saw the explosion back when they attacked you. It took us all a while to dispatch of the villains after me and get to the site. The group that targeted you had all the time to... to finish their job before we showed up, but they didn't. I think they were trying to bring you somewhere."

Toshinori frowned. That didn't bode well. A kidnapping attempt? Maybe to use him as leverage in case the frontal attack on Midoriya didn't succeed? It could make sense. The mere notion made Toshinori's blood boil, but that was a possibility they'd have to consider very carefully in the future.

"I see. We'd better lay low for a while until Endeavor can give us a clearer picture of the situation." Toshinori pondered. "Any damage to your equipment? I assume most of mine was unrecoverable."

"Mine is in working condition. Hawks said he'd take care of getting us a new vehicle, and he already passed me a new phone, laptop and some other things to replace what was in the car."

Preparedness, thy name is Hawks, Toshinori thought. He promised himself not to brush him off so quickly the next time he called, or maybe even call him himself to thank him. Maybe. The man was strangely hard to read, he didn't quite invite Toshinori's confidence.

"Good." Toshinori took a long sip, then leaned back against wall with a sigh. "I guess we should take advantage of this forced downtime to recuperate. You've been working yourself pretty thin lately, it's hardly sustainable in the long run."

Midoriya didn't reply. He was still staring at the floor as if the secrets of the universe were contained in the concrete beneath. The tea was growing cold in his cup, forgotten on a nearby table. Toshinori kept staring at him in turn, waiting for the boy to notice his own unresponsiveness and offer an explanation. Eventually he spoke, still avoiding his mentor's eyes.

"All Might..." And that was all he managed before trailing off.

"Yes? Something on your mind?" Toshinori encouraged. The answer was again, not quite immediate.

"I have been thinking, lately... about our plan. About how our groups are organised. If our teams are currently as balanced and efficient as they could be."

"Would you rather be paired up with one of the big three, and have me act as support for the others?" Toshinori asked plainly, squashing the little lurch of unease the suggestion gave him.

"N.. Yes, I... Maybe. That is a possibility." Another pause. Midoriya was getting visibly on edge, his free hand clenched to a fist to his side. "If I am to act as bait, I cannot provide coverage for anyone. Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor are more at liberty to protect-" The boy finally raised his gaze to meet Toshinori's eyes and flinched, almost scared of the sound of his own words.

...Ah, we had finally come to this.

"Don't get me wrong. Please." Suddenly the boy deflated, his back slumped fowards and he rested his elbows on his legs, both his hand supporting the sides of his head. "At the hospital, when you offered to leave UA as well and follow me, I... Y-You have no idea what it means to me, how proud I am to fight alongside you, how much I-"

His voice faltered again. Toshinori waited.

"But... You said yourself, the first time we met, that one has to consider the reality of things. And... the reality of this... is that, right now, there is nothing more dangerous on this planet than being at my side. And... for someone... like you to be so exposed... I can't-"

"Yeah, I'm going to stop you right there." Toshinori butted in, taking another sip of tea. He twirled the cup in his fingers, nonplussed. "Look, kid. Believe me when I say that I am painfully aware that, in terms of combat capability and survivability, I am much more of a liability than an asset to the whole operation-"

"You are not- a liability!" Midoriya almost shouted, and Toshinori could swear that he had corrected himself at the last second to avoid using the word 'weak'. "You coordinate the four of us flawlessly, you take care of my gear, my clothes, my accomodation, my food, you offer me advice and strategy I couldn't come up with on my own, you can hold your ground against low-tier criminals, and evade situations where the odds are too stacked against you. You've been doing all this for months without breaking a sweat! I know exactly how valuable your skills are!"

"Then that makes two of us. I don't see any reason for you to imply that I should leave the team."

"Because... All of this... As valuable as it is, it isn't worth..." Midoriya banged his fists against his thigs, his back hunched over and his head bowed so much that all Toshinori could see was him biting his lip so hard he thought it'd start bleeding, "...your life."

It pained Midoriya to say it. It pained Toshinori to see him so distraught about it. But he had purposefully let the argument get that far, because it was necessary for the boy to confront this thing sooner or later.

"If those villains had had different orders... If we had been slower, or unlucky... You would have died." The boy struggled to continue. "I don't-"

"You don't want to see anyone getting hurt any more. I know."

Toshinori recalled very vividly those days at the hospital. The aftermath. Hectic, nightmarish days for everyone. Relatives, friends, colleagues of the many victims and injured were everywhere, shedding tears of shock and horror behind every corner. Toshinori himself hadn't been able to hold back tears as he had proclaimed his intention to tag along the boy in his crusade against All For One. Rumors through the grapevine said that even Endeavor had been seen weeping in that whirlwind of grief. The only person that Toshinori hadn't seen shed a single tear at any point was Midoriya. That alone should have alerted him of some sudden subversion in the natural order of the universe, but it had taken him some more time to realize the meaning behind that stoicism.

"I share that feeling. Whole-heartedly." Toshinori slowly clenched and unclenched his fist, somberly. "But if all it took to ensure someone's safety was a passionate declaration of intent, the world wouldn't need as many heroes as it does. We both know it, don't we?"

"That's why I'm asking you to-"

"And that's why I'm refusing." Toshinori glared sternly at the boy's hair. "This accident has brought to light a flaw in our patterns of action, and we're lucky it did so without causing any lasting damage. If we need to regroup in a way that grants me less exposure, fine. We can work out the logistics of that later. But if you're trying to convince me to go back and sit tight in UA's offices at whatever you deem a 'safe distance' to be, you can spare your breath. It isn't going to happen."

"But... All Might, please!" Midoriya finally raised his head to look at his teacher, a desperate edge in his eyes. "I wouldn't be left unguarded! Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor can support me, while you... you are quirkless now and- God, think of Nighteye's vision!"

"Is that why you're trying to push me away? Is it really?" Toshinori retorted, with more bite than he intended. "In few months, you have successfully detached yourself from your classmates, most of your teachers, your own mother. And now you're trying to do the same with me. Is it so far-fetched for me to imagine that, if push comes to shove, you'll try to leave the other pro heroes behind too, in some misguided self-sacrifing effort 'not to see anyone hurt again'!?"

Midoriya's flinched as if he'd just been slapped. Admittedly, that had come out more harshly than Toshinori was planning. The man coughed into his fist, seizing the chance to discreetly rein his own feelings in.

"Young Midoriya." He resumed, more gently. "This overpowering sense of responsibility and protection that you are feeling... is exactly what drove me during the six years between my injury and our first meeting. The drive to uphold a Symbol of Peace that would protect everyone, directly or indirectly. The current situation speaks loudly about the results of my efforts."

Toshinori paused, suddenly caught by a deep bitterness. "If I hadn't been so stubborn... if I hadn't rejected the advice and support of the people who cared about me the most... maybe the Symbol of Peace would still exist to this day. Upheld by more than a single bluffer. I have paid for my mistakes, and the worst part is that I wasn't only one. My friends, my loyal sidekick paid for them dearly, way more harshly than I did. The whole country is paying for them."

Toshinori leant forward, suppressing the cough that threatened to rob his breath. He looked his shocked pupil in the eyes, without the barest hint of reservation. "I will not let you make the same mistake."

Midoriya's head bowed again, very slowly, like a toy with dying batteries. His shoulders trembled.

"I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?" He said, shakily.

Toshinori wasn't a fool. He knew that Midoriya had grasped the importance of his words. He also knew that discussing that particular topic with All Might, of all people, was especially difficult for him. The pain of losing a mentor (one that somewhat doubled as a surrogate parental figure too, as it happened) was something Toshinori was intimately acquainted to. He could imagine how great Midoriya's fear had to be, to spark so direct a confrontation.

He knew, last but not least, that his successor always, invariably, reliably chose the best course of action when it was asked of him.

"Do you really want to?" Toshinori asked softly, steadying the boy's quivering shoulder with his hand.

Midoriya tensed even more, hesitated. Then he shook his head negatively.

He had grown so much. Physically and mentally, as a person and as a hero. In just two years, his frame had gotten larger and sturdied, his muscles had toned, his reflexes sharpened, his judgement refined, his courage exploded, his kindness bloomed. He had blossomed into such a remarkable individual that, sometimes, even Toshinori forgot that he was still a sixteen-year old.

That he was, most of all, still Izuku Midoriya.

"You haven't turned on the waterworks in a while, have you? It must be full to bursting in there." Toshinori smiled as he pulled the boy into a one-armed hug. "You shouldn't let the pressure build up so much."

The kid let out a pitiful sob and his face fell on Toshinori's shoulder. It was all it took for him to unravel. He broke into a waterfall of tears, failing to contain a long series of low but heart-wrenching whines. He hugged his mentor back and clung to him tightly, the man's shirt balled up in both his fists. Toshinori didn't let go until Midoriya did, few dry coughs taking care of unloading the traitorous knots that were forming in his own throat.

It lasted as long as it needed to. Eventually the gasps abated, the tears stopped flowing, and the boy's desperate grasp on Toshinori loosened.

"...I-I'm sorry." He managed as he pulled back, still held at arm's length by Toshinori's hand. "I just... You are right. About everything. I just..."

"I know. You've finally experienced All For One's devastating maliciousness firsthand. It's natural that you got so disturbed by it. I was disturbed too, and it was hardly my first time witnessing it." In an unexpected turn of fate, Toshinori had managed not to spill his cup during that whole emotional outburst, and he downed the last of his now iced tea with a single gulp. It didn't feel quite as fortifying as if it had been sake. "But we'll all look into how to protect each other better, and we'll move from there. We'll face what they'll throw at us, in one way or another."

Midoriya nodded. The next Symbol of Peace made for a very sorry sight at the moment, with red, puffy eyes and radiating exhaustion from every pore. Toshinori still preferred seeing him like this than as a coiled wrap of nerves and fear one step away from bursting.

"You sure chose an odd moment to start worrying about my potential demise." Toshinori offered, trying to lighten the mood by ruffling the boy's hair in the most annoying way possible.

"Uh? What do you mean?"

"Aren't you in a semi-permanent conference call with your predecessors these days? The way I see it, the moment I bite the dust in this world, I'll just pop back on my feet-" He tapped Midoriya's forehead repeatedly despite his attempts to squirm away, discovering new heights of annoyance within his reach, " ...right here. Ready to lecture you for the rest of your days, unless you miraculously find another quirkless brat to torture in turn."

"That's- that hardly makes things better!" Midoriya swatted his hand away and blurted out, way too quickly. Toshinori had the strong impression that Midoriya had already considered that fact, and dutifully rejected it. "You aren't supposed to exist as a ghost trapped in my head for my sole benefit! You're supposed to live like anyone else, out here, free to enjoy-"

Oh, good grief. "Yes, fine, I get your point!" Toshinori raised his arms defensively. He deserved that, he knew the risks of trying to joke with his overly sensitive protégé. "I'm just saying that it's a handy safety net for you, at least in terms of... emotional support. I wouldn't look unkindly on the chance to chat with some of my deceased acquaintances for my whole life."

"...I suppose that is a good point." Midoriya took Toshinori's empty teacup and put it on the table next to his own. "If... If it even does last that long..."

"Mh?"

"I..." All of a sudden Midoriya was biting his lip again. He had that absorbed look that signalled the start of a deliriously overanalytical tirade. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"...Yes, you do that a lot, don't you?" Toshinori sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable. Midoriya ignored him and went on with his muttering.

"If the permanence of the conscience of One For All's wielders within the power itself isn't tied to their quirks, it must be due to something else. Something that all users have in common. There are many possibilities, but the first one that comes to mind is... willpower. A shared goal." The boy brought a hand to his chin and frowned. "One For All was born out of the First's desire to stop All For One, and this objective was steadily passed down from master to apprentice until now. It stands to reason that this might be the ultimate purpose of the power itself, to solve the conflict that generated it. And... I wonder what would happen after that. After we defeat All For One... will One For All remain the same? Will the connection among its wielders be lost? Will the quirk cease to exist in its entirety?"

Toshinori blinked. Twice. Where on earth was all this coming from now...?

"Did the predecessors tell you about this?"

"No, they don't know any more than we do about the matter." Midoriya finally re-emerged from his bubble of introspection, and gave Toshinori a sheepish smile in response to his puzzled look. "It's just a hypothesis of mine."

Toshinori rubbed his eyes tiredly. That boy's penchant for overthinking things would lead him to an early grave, he was sure of it, and it was only going to get worse now that he had eight distinct personalities residing in his head, ready to produce a constant stream of new inputs.

"...Let me get this straight. You are now worrying about the possibility that, if I were to die in the near future and become a sentient vestige- don't even try to deny it, I know how your head works-" Toshinori raised a finger menacingly as soon as Midoriya opened his mouth. The boy immediately closed it and grimaced with evident guilt, "...you are worried that, in that case, our connection would be lost after accomplishing this shared goal. Am I correct?"

"...I guess so." Midoriya answered, barely above a whisper.

Leave it to this boy to grow anxious about having to grieve for the same person not once, but twice. Toshinori summoned the last embers of his patience to deal with this like a rational adult.

"Listen. I can't deny that One For All has evolved so much since I passed it to you that I can barely claim any expertise on it at this point." Toshinori started, joining the tips of his fingers. "But you spoke of will and purpose. Of will and purpose, I know something about."

Midoriya instantly forgot his insecurity and leaned towards Toshinori, expectation and curiosity lighting his eyes.

"I cannot speak for most of the predecessors, since I never met them." He continued. "But I can tell you something about me, and I bet the same goes for my master too. I never wielded One For All with the purpose of defeating people. I wielded it with the purpose of helping them."

Toshinori waited for the words to sink in. He could pinpoint the moment they did by the distant look that appeared in the boy's eyes. He bet someone was smiling, inside that green-haired head.

"All For One has always been a disgusting, painful wart in the peaceful world I dreamed to protect. He was never the goal of my efforts, just an obstacle. That's all there is to it." He smiled to Midoriya, who now wore that unabashedly admiring expression that gave Toshinori a mild, inexplicable sense of guilt. "If that isn't enough to quell you doubts, you may remember certain promises I made to you and your mother, promises that would not be fulfilled by just taking down any one villain. I'll have you know that I'm not in the habit of going back on my word easily."

Midoriya nodded, worry slowly disappearing from his features.

"Yes... I see what you mean. " The boy visibly relaxed, and smiled. It was the first real smile he'd shown since Toshinori woke up. Finally. "That makes a lot of sense."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Thank you." The way the boy said those two simple words, the way he wore his enormous heart on his sleeve, the way he had never stopped feeling and showing the deepest gratefulness for whatever tidbit of advice Toshinori managed to scrap together...

Toshinori's head gave a painful throb. Either the painkillers were starting to wear off, or all these waves of teenage emotionality were aggravating his concussion. Both possibilities seemed equally likely. A swift intervention was required.

He karate-chopped Midoriya on the head.

"On the other hand!" He declared over the boy's yelp. "Talk about overconfidence, young man! 'After we defeat All For One'? Way to brush off the most miraculous task we'll ever have to accomplish in both our lives! How about we focus more on how to achieve that feat first, and then we worry about whatever existential crisis that may come our way afterwards?"

"Y-Yes! Of course!" Midoriya jumped on his feet with comical speed, accidentally mimicking a half-formed military salute. "I didn't mean to imply it would be easy! Nor less important than-"

"Undoubtedly. So, first order of things: recuperating. On second thought, I think now I could go for some breakfast. Lunch... Dinner?" Toshinori glanced around the room, failing to locate a clock. "Whatever meal is most suitable for this time of day or night."

"Breakfast." Midoriya confirmed, cheering up again. "Any preferences?"

"Some tamago kake wouldn't go amiss."

"Coming right up!" Midoriya moved to the other side of the room with a spring in his step. Toshinori considered lying down for a few minutes while the rice cooked.

"All Might. One last thing."

Toshinori sighed. Wasn't there always just one last thing?

"I said that I agree with everything you told me. Except one thing." Midoriya continued, from outside of Toshinori's view. His voice was firm. "You are no bluff. You never were. Even when you thought you were doing your job for only three hours a day, or one, or none at all. All the time, you were working just as hard as everyone else, if not more. And no one in their right mind would deny that you are the best thing that happened to Japan in the last forty years. Don't ever forget that."

As he was sliding from sitting to a horizontal position, Toshinori's head gave another, sharper twinge. It was that, and only that, that made his sight go just a little watery as his nape landed on the pillow.

"...Thanks, kid." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and relaxed with a deep sigh. "I'll keep it in mind."

[c-ptsdrecovery]

Recognizing Complex PTSD (C-PTSD)

Recognizing Complex PTSD can be really tough.

People tend to think of PTSD as a thing that only happens to former soldiers, or maybe somebody who was in a life-threatening accident or the victim of sexual assault. But actually, little everyday traumas can cause PTSD too: things like experiencing everyday racism or other prejudice, being rejected repeatedly by peers, or not having your parents acknowledge your feelings or opinions. Lots of people struggle with anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, eating disorders, or even symptoms of ADHD, and never realize that they could be caused by a childhood or lifetime full of these “minor” traumas. Just growing up with emotional neglect--having parents who didn’t listen to you or express much affection for you--can be enough to cause C-PTSD. The good news is that addressing your trauma history can lead to recovery! So how can you tell if you have Complex PTSD?

Symptoms of PTSD:

Intrusion: The traumatic event is persistently re-experienced in one or more of the following ways:

Recurrent, involuntary, and intrusive memories. 

Children older than six may express this symptom through repetitive play in which aspects of the trauma are expressed.

Traumatic nightmares or upsetting dreams with content related to the event. Children may have frightening dreams without content related to the trauma. [I have a lot of nightmares unrelated to the event, which may be because the trauma started when I was a child.]

Dissociative reactions, such as flashbacks, in which it feels like the experience is happening again. These may occur on a continuum ranging from brief episodes to complete loss of consciousness. [Emotional flashbacks can feel like a sudden mood swing. Look for incidents where you had an emotional reaction that was inappropriate for or way out of proportion to the circumstances that triggered it. Dissociation can also take the form of derealization or depersonalization.]

Intense or prolonged distress after exposure to traumatic reminders. [”Being triggered”: see above]

Marked physiological reactivity, such as increased heart rate, after exposure to traumatic reminders.

 Avoidance: Persistent effortful avoidance of distressing trauma-related reminders after the event 

Avoidance of trauma-related thoughts or feelings.

Avoidance of trauma-related external reminders, such as people, places, conversations, activities, objects, or situations.

Negative Alterations in Mood: Negative alterations in cognition and mood that began or worsened after the traumatic event 

Inability to recall key features of the traumatic event. This is usually dissociative amnesia, not due to head injury, alcohol, or drugs. [It’s not unusual for people who were traumatized in childhood to feel like they don’t remember much of their childhood, or that it’s “all a blur”.]

Persistent, and often distorted negative beliefs and expectations about oneself or the world, such as "I am bad," or "The world is completely dangerous." [”This is never going to get better.” “I’m so annoying to people. I should never talk again.” “I just suck at everything I do.” “I just don’t fit in this world.” This includes catastrophizing: “If I eat more candy I’m going to have more cavities and I’m going to LOSE ALL MY TEETH OMG” etc]

Persistent distorted blame of self or others for causing the traumatic event or for the resulting consequences.

Persistent negative emotions, including fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame. [And, obviously, depression!]

Markedly diminished interest in activities that used to be enjoyable. [”Anhedonia”]

Feeling alienated, detached or estranged from others. [Feeling like you’re really special. Feeling like you’re completely alone in the world. Feeling like there’s nobody else like you anywhere. Feeling like you have absolutely nobody who loves you--even if you actually do.]

Persistent inability to experience positive emotions, such as happiness, love, and joy.

Alterations in Reactivity: 

Irritable or aggressive behavior

Self-destructive or reckless behavior [Includes self-harm and suicide attempts]

Feeling constantly "on guard" or like danger is lurking around every corner (hypervigilance) [In people with interpersonal trauma, this can mean watching people’s emotional reactions to you constantly for signs that they dislike you, are angry with you, are upset, etc.]

Exaggerated startle response

Problems in concentration

Sleep disturbance

Symptoms of Complex PTSD

In addition to the core symptoms of single-event PTSD, people with C-PTSD [the result of prolonged or repetitive trauma] may also experience:

Difficulty Controlling Emotions: You may experience an emotional flashback. This is when you have intense feelings that you originally felt during the trauma, such as fear, shame, or sadness. You may also experience severe depression, thoughts of suicide, or have difficulty controlling your anger.

Detachment from Trauma (Dissociation):  Dissociation is the mind's way of coping with an intensely traumatic experience. Those who experience dissociation may feel detached from their surroundings, their actions, and their body. They may experience gaps in their memory surrounding the original trauma or an everyday task that reminds them of the trauma they experienced. [People with C-PTSD also often have trouble feeling their emotions, or identifying how they’re feeling: they subconsciously try to separate themselves from their feelings, because they’re afraid they will be overwhelmed by them. Dissociation can also take the form of distracting oneself from one’s feelings or circumstances--being a “busyholic”, sleeping way more than necessary, constantly looking for distractions, excessive daydreaming, etc.]

Changes in Self-Perception:  Complex PTSD can cause a person to view themselves in a negative light. This negative self-image can include feeling as if they are different from other people and feelings of helplessness, guilt, or shame. 

Preoccupation With Perpetrator:  It is not uncommon for people with C-PTSD to become fixated on their abuser. This can include becoming obsessed with the abuser, dissecting their relationship with the abuser, and becoming preoccupied with revenge. [People with C-PTSD may also feel that their abuser is somehow all-powerful or that they will somehow manage to ruin the survivor’s life, even if the survivor is no longer in contact with them. Personally, I get into obsessive, ranting arguments in my head with my abusers, which I find very upsetting.]

Difficulty with Personal Relationships:  Someone with C-PTSD may develop unhealthy relationships because they find it difficult to interact with and trust others. [People with C-PTSD may find themselves withdrawing from others and having trouble maintaining relationships or trusting other people. They may isolate themselves because it feels a lot easier just to stay in bed than to face the world. They may also persistently end up in relationships with abusive partners or friends.]

Changes in Beliefs: People exposed to chronic or repeated traumatic events may lose faith in humanity and previously held beliefs.

If these sound like you...

...I strongly recommend that you talk to a mental health professional about Complex PTSD and look intro treatment options! People DO recovery from C-PTSD. It’s not a life sentence. There ARE effective treatments!

[wp-blaze]

Understanding the Subtle Signs of Emotional Abuse

Emotional abuse can be insidious and difficult to recognize. This post explores the quiet, pervasive signs that someone may be experiencing emotional mistreatment – and offers strategies to heal and reclaim your power.

[emerald-studies]

Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]                                                

—-    

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it. 

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago. 

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race. 

It was junior year that broke me. 

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years. 

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school. 

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took. 

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath. 

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me. 

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me. 

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed. 

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does. 

Fuck off. 

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out. 

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine. 

I said,

 “No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months. 

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

 “Hm ok, that’s nice.”. 

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating. 

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”. 

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day. 

Guess who didn’t notice? 

All 8 of those concerned teachers. 

They don’t give a shit. 

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers. 

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me. 

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no. 

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say 

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything. 

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened. 

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!” 

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes. 

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes. 

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out. 

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds? 

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence. 

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist. 

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class. 

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing. 

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher. 

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher. 

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective. 

--

So.... discussion time. 

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma. 

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol: 

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

oc and their partner asks: ❣️, 💘, 💋 & 💜 for fane and solas <3

You know, I like rambling about Fane and Solas just about as much as I love rambling about solely Fane! *rubs hands together* Ehehe, time to be fluffyyyyy!

Thank you for the ask! <3 <3 <3

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?

I could be super sappy and make up something utterly dramatic, but it was really kind of..sudden for Fane? He first had feelings for Solas as a dragon, but they were so confusing and disorienting that they were shoved aside. And even if Fane could have understood what he was feeling, he wouldn't have been able to say anything. Solas always led the conversations, and Fane just watched and listened. They built a relationship through respect and a mutual agenda to free their respective people.

Now, as an elf? OH, BOY. Fane, I kid you not, was literally just speaking with Solas one day, which isn't abnormal, of course, but for some reason, he started to feel all those century old feelings again. The grief, the longing, the quiet desire, the affection, the warmth. It all came back in a tidal wave as he just stood there, no longer talking, and just...listening. It was the way Solas spoke, even, calm, soothing. It brought everything back, and Fane was able to decipher what all those emotions boiled down to.

And literally, all he thought, as flowing words morphed with stormy orbs was, 'I love him. I...have always loved him, and now, I can tell him. I don't have to be silent anymore..'

💘 What do they love most about their partner(s)? What do their partner(s) love most about them?

Fane really enjoys watching Solas interact with spirits. It reminds him of Arlathan, of their time before the schism. The sky gets softer, more open with familiarity of a land lost to time and necessity, and the easy smile that will bloom upon a normally impassive or sorrowful face makes it even better.

Now, Solas. This is a bit spoilery for my fic, so I'll try not to give too much away, however, Solas really adores how focused and driven Fane can get when he's neck deep in research. It just fascinates him how one moment Fane can be curt, terse, and purely physical, and then in the next have such an intense passion that's expressed with written words, complex diagrams, and a mind like a scholar's. He loves how Fane has...grown, so to speak. Solas is always looking for new things about his dragon, and he absolutely adores it when another seemingly lost emotion is restored through odd triggers.

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

Fane and Solas are pretty evenly matched when it comes to kissing. They usually start off tame, but...they quickly shift. However, they do have different styles that are personalized.

Fane is unsure at first, the sensations strange and the emotions connected overwhelming. He'll ease into it, putting their foreheads together to lock gazes, searching for reciprocation before he actually initiates. Then, it's timid, like it's a first kiss every time. He'll nudge at Solas' cheek with his nose, laying a chaste kiss here and there before their lips brush together, softly, barely noticeable, but enough to make his head foggy and his cheeks flush. There's a lot of quiet looks, silent requests until Fane will tilt his head just so, and lean in, connecting them the way he always wished to. The movements are languid, tender, seemingly synchronized. Another tilt of his head and he's going deeper, mind blurring at the edges, oxygen leaving his lungs steadily even as he breathes out contented sighs through his nose. Sometimes, he'll cup Solas' face or just wrap his arms around him to keep him close, connected. Then it ends just as slowly as it began, and his whole face is no longer white as Solas gives a knowing, pleased smirk, and his eyes sharpen like the night sky.

Solas, if initiating, is more straightforward, but gentle with Fane, since he knows that a sudden influx of emotion can disorient him and have him receding into the depths of his mind. He'll do things to relax Fane before they kiss. Stroking his cheeks, kneading the point of his ear, combing through his hair with his fingers; he wants Fane to relax, to take in each emotion slowly. After that, it's pretty similiar to how Fane engages, but Solas starts out more deeply, no shy brushes, but there is sometimes sorrow and guilt laced into the kisses, which Fane will pick up on. But instead of discouraging, it encourages them both to delve in more, and Solas will take the reins, tangling a hand into snowy hair, and utterly losing himself in the sensations of never wanting to lose each other again. Solas will push, pull, guide until the two of them have to separate for air, and there's no sorrow, no guilt, no shame as they part. There's only uncommon smiles and feeling of home.

Soooo...yeah. Even! :D

💜 Give a random fact about their daily life together!

There's a lot of trusting intimacy between the two of them. After Fane divulges the circumstances surrounding his abuse, and shows Solas his body, his scars, it becomes a daily routine for the mage to help him undo the bindings. It's a ritual, every morning and every evening, and if need be, after battles. There's no heat, no passion behind it. It's sometimes somber, sometimes calming. Fane takes comfort in knowing someone knows and that he doesn't need to hide all the time, and Solas also feels comfort in the fact that Fane trusted him enough to allow privy to the horrific secret as even his sister doesn't know.

Bonus fact!: Fane and Solas also tend to traverse outside of Skyhold on their own. They don't go far, but they both know the mountains and they like to get away from the weight bearing down on their shoulders, if only for a moment. They'll explore tiny caverns, passages, and paths that they can remember, and it's also a way to continue piecing back together Fane's fragmented memories due to the mountain being somewhat similiar to the one he lived on as a dragon. They make sure to bring back something worthwhile so as not to raise too much suspicion, but if they can't, Fane just says, "We needed some air." Cassandra doesn't always buy it, but what can she do? Nothing, and Fane knows it. Solas usually just sighs before coming up with a more eloquent excuse.

[retphienix]

Alright, this is gonna be tough because I desperately want to say so much for the game's sake and my own, but it's just so much.

At least the playthrough as a whole exists to show a lot of those things, and there's no shame in some of the impacts the game had for myself going unsaid :)

LONG POST INCOMING, NO 'READ MORE' BECAUSE IT'S RELEVANT TO THE POST AND NOT AN AFTER-THOUGHT

CLICK 'J' ON YOUR KEYBOARD TO SKIP. (Sorry mobile users)

8:48 - Do you have any idea how good a step forward it felt to smash the repressing bulb?

9:50 - So I'll get ahead of myself because this fight shows a lot of the visuals that play into this: Something being the manifestation of guilt for Mari is so incredibly visualized.

Between the base 'Something' being extremely close to the shadow she cast and including the one visible eye that bore down on Sunny and Basil after the hanging, to the stairs incorporating into the design.

The seaweed and spider are more general anxieties though they do circle back to Mari since she saved Sunny, but those two forms don't feel as directly related as the stairs (heights) and base 'Something' forms and what they represent for his repressed guilt.

Could be wrong ;) Tell me what you saw in the forms of 'Something' if you'd like to expand on them :)

12:39 - Just to prove the point before you get to fully see the truth- Something morphs into the figure of Mari hanging. It doesn't fully demonstrate the "eye" aspect yet, but still I just wanted to say kudos on the way 'Something' is shown visually. Formless for a reason, and that form becomes more defined as you understand what it is, exceptional damn thing.

15:43 - Basil's part in all of this makes me so damn sad. Plenty to say later (obviously), but he harbors so much guilt, wants forgiveness so much, and is so (not shown yet) desperate to believe in Sunny's innocence while knowing but not comprehending the truth. The fact he harbors his own 'Something' due to the guilt of all this is heartbreaking, these kids endured a hell no one should. Losing someone so important to you and harboring the guilt and fault of it when nothing of the sort was intended. A childish fight with raised emotions got out of hand and all this came of it.

Hell.

16:30 - I absolutely adore how the photo album is used for this reveal.

Absolutely incredible execution that's specific to this story and its characters and makes piecing (literally) this together tense and grim.

22:27 - I NEVER SPOKE TO OR INTERACTED WITH THE THING IN THE CENTER OF THIS ROOM AND I'M A NORMAL AMOUNT OF UPSET ABOUT THAT >:( lol

29:41 - Okay.

So this reveal as a whole is so unbelievably well paced and incredibly hard hitting.

All game long there's a weight of having lost Mari. Repeatedly it's told that she killed herself and no one can understand why and everyone (MYSELF THE PLAYER INCLUDED) is looking for meaning in little moments, seeking out hints that maybe she was suffering or depressed or this or that.

And while that has gone on FOR THE ENTIRE GAME there has also been this uneasy weight surrounding Sunny/Omori. Visions of Mari twisted and deformed into phantoms of horror.

For the most part I assumed it was just him coping with having lost his sister and maybe a dialogue on how when she was alive he was in her shadow (in his mind) and now that she's gone he remains there?

That was the best I could figure, more or less. But it continued to seem more and more malicious in design and MUCH more 'heavy' in how it's presented as a shadow behind Omori/Sunny throughout his adventure and life.

The weight and 'overshadowed' looks of the scenes felt more and more foreboding and less like a simpler "I'm living in her shadow" story, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Then these pictures come out and piece things together.

The final result:

Sunny and Mari fighting. (Context appears to be his growing disdain towards playing. It's stated he loved playing, but it's also shown that he begins to dislike how much Mari is dragged away for classes and the like up to and including playing. So my read was that Sunny was upset that their fleeting time together was dedicated to the recital and broke his violin in an emotional blur and the fight occurred.

Alternatively it was accidentally broken and both of their emotions were running high as it happened)

Mari falling to her death.

Sunny and Basil carrying her upstairs and tending to her.

Sunny breaking down as it sinks in.

The visions having Basil say "It's going to be okay" by the bedside. (I perceive that as a memory of what Basil was saying as he tried to manage his emotions during the event)

Sunny and Basil carrying her back downstairs and to the backyard.

The makeshift noose.

And finally the sight that burned itself into Sunny's eyes of her hanging after it was all said and done.

Just holy shit to it all in how it's revealed and handled.

Stories have twists all the time, and I ain't gonna make some bold claim like "Most unpredictable!" "Best twist!" "What a twist!" or whatever, though that'd be funny.

I just want to say this twist worked BEFORE the reveal as a foreboding sense of unease and curiosity- it lent itself to intentionally vague and easily misconstrued explanations, basically- instead of it outright misleading you beyond the characters that believe the lie repeating the lie, it allowed you to mislead yourself.

It did the twist the right way! And well! YOU trick YOURSELF! The people repeating the lie are being lied to or have motivation to repeat the lie! The GAME isn't lying (as so many twists handle it) the game is giving the world reason to mislead and allowing you to be mislead!

Now am I yelling affirmations for the way things SHOULD ALWAYS BE! YES! BUT THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S NOT AS NORMAL AS IT SHOULD BE! lol

31:40 - All the "You will really miss them"s hurt :(

33:25 - Right out the gate, a spoiler for what isn't here:

I looked up the alternate endings of the neutral route and my heart hurts to know Sunny doesn't stick around and Basil dies :(

34:00 - BASIL BEING OVERWHELMED WITH DENIAL AND GUILT AS HE ATTEMPTS TO MENTALLY PROTECT HIS VIEW OF WHO HIS FRIEND IS BY INVENTING A SECOND PARTY THAT DID THIS IS SO FUCKING REAL AND AMAZINGLY DONE.

And it explains the name behind the 'Something'.

'Something' behind you did it. There's 'Something' behind you, isn't there.

'Something' all around us, that potentially being the truth comin' in.

When 'Something' ruined my photos, Basil repressing protecting Sunny by destroying the proof.

Just expertly done.

'Something' being repression of the memory and impending guilt. Dannnng.

36:26 - It's 24 hours after I beat the game as I type all this so here's a gag.

Here's the part where Basil beats some sense into his friend, because after this Sunny gets knocked out and wakes up 200% improved and ready to save Basil from his own guilt by releasing them both from the secret.

So basically Kel dragged us out of bed, then a couple days later Basil beats us up, and that's how Sunny gets better :^) Game Over.

38:46 - This fight made me feel utterly terrible, a highlight being the energy bar saying "Everything is going to be okay".

or at 40:17 - when Basil pokes out Sunny's eye and the screen does this? That's an underutilized but always awesome visual.

41:12 - I THOUGHT I WAS DEAD AT THIS POINT :)

Because just before entering Basil's home on this night you see his Grandma's ghost here. So seeing Sunny here told me "WELL. YOU FUCKED UP!"

42:25 - Like I said, beat some sense into Sunny.

Here's the mental side of things where Basil's beatin' told Sunny to go remember the good times and confront his inner self and I'm being partially facetious because there's plenty to say about what's coming up.

43:15 - Goosebumps every time due to the sincerity and hope of this.

43:40 - Hug for anyone needing that.

51:11 - I could cry again and I just might before this post is done being put together.

This accident was never meant to be.

55:09 - Timestamp is arbitrary, I won't go over every flashback but I do want to say what a beautiful way to use these photos. To relive the memories? To find the strength to overcome and all that? After all these years of suppressing memories? DANNNG I love this game.

1:04:09 - I stepped in poop.

1:04:15 - Barefooted.

1:04:22 - I embraced my failure.

1:12:00 - The violin.

1:13:00 - "The anxious feeling-" "They believed in you" "No matter what you didn't want to disappoint them" I'm filled with love and gonna cry about it.

1:14:00 - So an important theme in the game, as if it has just one, is Sunny suppressing emotions and demonizing himself.

Obviously the ending shows him breaking free from both but I think it's important as hell to look at how he builds up to being able to.

After all the dark moments show him as a bloodied monster, demonstrate a perceived lack of remorse for what he's done (as in he sees himself so poorly that he says "I must not have felt bad about it, I'm a monster", not that he actually doesn't feel bad about it, that he thinks he shouldn't because he's bad), have him stab dream Basil to protect his repression of the memory, the build up to breaking free from that is him remembering the good in him through the lens of his friends.

Both in the real world and in revisiting the memories within the photos.

He hears about the good in himself that he has pretended isn't there and finds the power to overcome this deadened shell he's made.

He learns how to forgive himself by finally remembering he's worthy of forgiveness and is more than his mistake, that even the person he grievously harmed would want him to forgive himself and would understand the mistake didn't define him.

1:15:15 - Just because you did something bad doesn't make you bad, to put it more eloquently than my rambles. He had to learn that.

1:19:20 - I've done this fight 4 times.

You may be wondering why 4 times, it ain't like I replayed the game a ton or anything.

The short of it is:

1) For the good ending :)

2) To see what happens if you go "up" in the hospital- it's a dead end- I assumed it'd be a bad ending. So I got the good ending again :)

3) For the bad ending.

4) FOR THE GOOD ENDING TO WIPE THE HORRIBLE FEELING IN THE PIT OF MY STOMACH AWAY FROM THE BAD ENDING :)

In doing so I did get one layer deeper on the BG of Omori in the fight, here it is:

And I learned on the fourth run that the fight is simpler than I gave it credit lol, Cherish refills your juice, so there is no reason to use Encore. You can get to the end (and deeper more easily) by just using the triple attack and Cherish and Calm down when necessary.

1:29:00 - A summary of the fight is that it's extremely impactful emotionally, but very obviously isn't a "Fun fight". It's great mechanically and story wise for what it's trying to do :)

I'll just say it here: I'm surprised there wasn't an end-game "Omori" fight, you know, in dream world? Because combat is SO good in this. I am lead to believe that the Omori route where you never go outside in the real world has more bosses and zones and would fill what I just implied I wanted- but you're also railroaded into the Neutral endings which are both sad :(

And honestly? That makes sense and I applaud the decision :) Embracing the fantasy world for more 'fights' isn't exactly the path to recovery. Also and I know someone will be bothered I say this because *I'm* bothered I'm saying this- it makes sense since a big predecessor did the same thing lol.

Undertale Genocide has new bosses and a harder end game challenge (Sans) while being the worse ending, while the good ending has a flashy and story/emotionally impactful final fight that isn't as challenging because challenge isn't the point of the morals being explored.

I just bring it up because it's interesting, has a parallel, and after fighting Omori 4 times I really REALLY wanted to do an end-game fight in Dream World.

1:30:00 - forgive me as I cry again. goosebumps and more.

OH NO~!

DRAT!

So I use a cheap video editor and I use the free format of it which limits to 720p and I didn't think twice of it.

I recorded at max, but downgraded after editing.

At 720p you can't see the detail that made me break down crying!

At 1:31:55 Sunny's eyes go wider as he sees Mari as they finally get to experience the duet in this dream state (White Egret Orchid, this is real and happening, I'm taking this to my grave :'( ) he sees her smile and that smile made me break down, but in the 720 it's blurry :(

That's on me, I could have posted the scene raw in HQ but I didn't know it'd compress just enough to be invisible :(

still. that duet scene can make me cry on command. just because of that alone, but also the entire thing.

1:33:42 - Sunny breaks from his shell and feels his emotions again.

1:37:07 - I wish every game would end with a mirror to see yourself.

The 'Despite everything, it's still you' vibe just cements all the growth and experiences that have happened as so much more real when that happens. Bonus points because mirrors in Omori are a time bomb where you can be reminded of the guilt following you- and this one is safe. This one is pure and clean. You did it.

1:37:50 - As I said earlier, going up does nothing. Dead end.

1:39:00 - I have to tell you something.

Simple ending. And yet slams me like two trucks. I'm so proud.

1:41:00 - Post credits scene.

This is so heartwarming and their smiles are the purest thing in the entire world.

1:42:50 - BAD ENDING RECORDING.

All I'll say on that is the bad ending made me feel terrible inside. Give up, live in your bubble, and subconsciously end it all so you never have to confront reality again.

My gut felt heavy to be honest.

And the fact that THAT is when Bo En Time is played is INCREDIBLE.

Having the sky shift like that gave goosebumps and cemented my dread.

Just seeing it now has me feeling very poorly.

Okay. Video done.

Now for general thoughts.

First off this White Space cycle has been going on for YEARS with Sunny only getting worse as he suppresses things more and more and the reason he found the strength to overcome is because of his friends and I'm gonna yell about it.

THE REASON SUNNY IS BREAKING FREE CAN BE DIRECTLY POINTED AT KEL THINKING "FUCK IT, I'M ABOUT TO LOSE A FRIEND, AND I DON'T WANT TO"

And I just think that is sweet as hell. The strength was inside himself, but the problem itself caused Sunny to demonize and not trust himself- he needed someone to break him free and help convince him that he's not irredeemable. And boom.

The way this game handles Denial and even gives it physical form with the 'Something's that both Sunny and Basil harbor is just awesome.

I touched on it but combat in Omori is very, very good.

I've said it here and there as I played and I feel like going at length in the finale post is pointless because this isn't a review but to put it concisely.

Types changing mid-combat, the character archetypes being so well defined, the follow up system, combat in Omori is some top notch turn based RPG stuff.

Like up there with the greats, the timeless masterpieces. This is GOOD fighting. So it was surprising the good ending didn't emphasize it- I explained why that makes sense, but even still! It'd probably be lesser for it (as explained previously) but it's interesting they practiced that restraint for the message they wanted to send.

Repeatin' that Mari's smile in the recital made me cry. Burned in my brain.

I'm still surprised I got the post credits scene because I DID water the plants a lot but when the game showed me them all dead I assumed that was the fail condition.

I genuinely do want to try the Omori route some time down the road. I hope I get around to it.

I am slightly dissuaded just because the Omori route only gets the neutral endings which are not Good To Be Blunt :(

But I want to see what dream content there is and I hear there are other bosses!

Other small bits from my notes:

Replacing denial (the black bulb) with hope (the white bulb) was good as heck.

The imagery of the 'Something' is so top notch- using the shadow of her body combined with the piercing gaze of her single eye- MY GOD.

The fragility of life being so present- between memories of near death experiences, to the way in which Mari dies, to the ease at which either Basil or Sunny can end the game. It's tense and heart-wrenching.

The way the 'Something' behind Sunny almost always shadows over him like an ever present weight.

Tearful, hopeful, pure, kids enduring a guilt metric tons heavier than their bodies could ever handle and finally, finally moving beyond it.

I said more in a personal post, and I'll reblog that.

Honestly, just timestamping through the video took it out of me and got the point across.

Omori is a wonderful game.

It's definitely a favorite for me, high up there on my list.

Between the themes, the gameplay, the humor, the ending.

This is a good one.

And now I get to end having experienced all the care and love in this title, that's such a sweet thing.

Now I know this finale post is a mess, illegible even. I have gotten sloppier as I've begun embracing just 'experiencing and rambling' and perhaps my formatting with change yet again until I find something more easily shared.

Despite that. I want to thank any who popped in on this playthrough.

This was a good one, a highlight of the blog for sure- and I'm always happy when I see some people enjoying the absolute mess I toss online when I do one of these :P

So thank you for your time, and thank you to any ridiculous enough to read my nonsense here.

Have a good one :)

And just as expected I feel I've said nothing and barely touched the surface as the post-game-head of mine does a poor job lol. Even still :P

[pointy-hat-witch]

Title: Stupid Show: One-Punch Man Pairing: Genos/Saitama Summary: They kiss. That’s it. Just pure fluff and they kiss. :)

You can read it on AO3 if you want to! :)

It was stupid, in hindsight. Stupid, overall, in fact. Genos didn’t know why he agreed to this and now he had to pay the price for his thoughtless acceptance. It was even too late to back out, to say, it’s too much because that would be a confession, in some kind of roundabout way. Not that he was sure that Saitama would get it but Genos just feared it would change something between them. As if this stupid predicament hasn’t changed enough already.

“See ya”, Saitama huffed on his way out to buy groceries, a last-minute sale was just announced on the news, and as he stood up from the small coffee table, placed a soft peck on Genos’ cheek.

For Genos time stood still a just a fraction of a second but not nearly enough to really savor the feeling of warm, chapped lips on his artificial skin. Not nearly enough to close his eyes, to enjoy this brief moment of intimacy that he craved.

A sheepish grin formed on Saitama’s lips as he stood up and waved goodbye.

Genos was left alone with his softly whirring core that would easily go in overdrive had it still been a human heart. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath he didn't need  but Genos found that imitating human reactions he still remembered made him feel more at ease.

It was really, really stupid, Genos lamented again for the third time on the second day of this week. It had been a stupid joke on a stupid TV show by stupid characters. But in that situation, Saitama had been laughing. Laughing so hard, he doubled over, kicking his feet in the air as he held his stomach with both arms. Genos had been smiling, not sharing the same humor, but everything that made Saitama laugh was a blessing.

“Can you believe this bullshit?!” Saitama had cry-laughed, hiccupping as he tried to catch his breath. Still giggling and whipping away some tears, Saitama pulled himself up on one hand and leaned over. His lips were dry, warm, and a little bit thin as they pressed against Genos’ cheek.

“And, are you cured?” Saitama had giggled, leaning back on both hands, shaking his head. “Seriously, what in the …” Saitama trailed off and focusing back on the show.

The moment Saitama had kissed, yes, kissed his cheek, Genos froze, every thought came to a screeching halt and it took him longer than he would ever admit to process what just happened. He remembered faintly that they talked about “kissing heals every illness” on the show, in what context specifically, he couldn’t remember for the life of him. But whatever it was, it prompted Saitama to kiss him. To heal what exactly, he didn’t even think of asking.

From then on, Saitama would kiss his cheek when he went outside (“so you won’t feel alone”), when he went to bed (“for pleasant dreams”), when Genos was called to an emergency (“for good luck”), and the list went on. He never urged Genos on to do the same, but every now and then Genos found himself repeating the same gesture, maybe just out of habit at this point.

And after a few weeks, he stopped questioned it. The reason for why they actually started doing this was an enigma to him he didn’t dare to decode.

But then began the real test. Whenever Saitama would give him one of his cure-whatever-illness-kiss, he yearned for his lips to linger. Just a second, just half a second more. To have the time to close his eyes, to let him have this small moment of intimacy he could share with his Sensei. He wanted Saitama to hold his hand, when he leaned in, to squeeze it in affirmation, acknowledgment of their shared feelings.

More than once Genos had to stop himself to turn his head as Saitama leaned over, so that their lips would met, accidentally of course.

That’s why Genos was left with sitting at the coffee table, legs folded beneath him, ghosting his fingers over the spot Saitama’s lips had just touched, repeating the moment behind close eyes as he willed his shaky breath to be steady again.

It was really, really stupid.

“Oi, Genos!” Saitama shouted when he came through the entrance door, shoes being toed off to not even put down the plastic bags and Genos, once again, dreamed about going over, cupping Saitama’s round face in his hands and press a kiss on his mouth. To say hello, to say I’m glad you’re back, to say I love you.

Instead, he turned around halfway, notebook forgotten in front of him but a pencil in hand for pretense. He listened to Saitama ramble on about the absolute best bargain he had made at the store, after fighting his way through middle aged women who wanted the same deals he was after. And how tough these fights always were because Saitama couldn’t just punch them out of the way, now could he?

As Saitama continued to list off all the items he was able to gather on the sale, Genos walked over to the kitchen to help him put them all away, and without missing a beat, Saitama leaned in, placing a peck on his cheek and kept on talking as if this was a completely normal interaction between teacher and disciple.

Genos had to swallow, hoping Saitama didn’t notice the stutter in his movements, and playing along that this casual kiss didn’t just wreck his soul both in the best and most brutal way possible. He knelt in front of the fridge facing his back to Saitama who was handing him item after item that he put away.

“Genos”, Saitama said and Genos grasped at empty air. He turned around to Saitama facing him, not handing him another item, his arms slack next to his body but his brows scrunched up slightly. Genos blinked against the blurriness that slowly fogged up his vision.

“Genos.” Saitama said again, whispering actually. It was a shame really that Genos couldn’t see clearly through the oil, so he couldn’t see how Saitama bend down to him, his hands framing his face. His thumbs caressing his cheeks to smear away some of the liquid that had spilled over, but ultimately making a mess out of it.

Genos blinked violently to make out Saitama’s features, to burn this moment into his memories because it was all he had wished for. Even though Saitama was probably looking at him in pity, guilt, maybe even disgust. But these unbelievable strong hands held his face so tenderly, it was hard to imagine that they could ever harm anything.

There was no hesitation in Saitama’s motions as he leaned in, closing the last bit of the distance between them. Genos didn’t have to see anything when Saitama’s lips brushed against his. It was featherlight and careful, such a contrast to the otherwise clumsy man, that Genos had to hold onto Saitama’s arms in fear he would just fall over as his whole body shook.

Their lips parted, Genos exhaled and felt the hot breath of his teacher on his face, and it tasted like sweat and oil. Nothing like he would ever imagine his first kiss to taste but now he couldn’t think of any other taste he wanted to ever taste.

“Is it cured?” Saitama mumbled, their faces still close enough that Genos couldn’t make out Saitama’s expression.

“I’m- I’m not sure, sens- hmpf”, Genos was interrupted with Saitama’s lips again on his, this time with a little more force. Saitama’s fingers curled in slightly as he had to control the tremble in his hands, short puffs of hot breath grazed Genos’ cheeks, making him sigh into the touch.

When they parted a second time, Saitama crouched down, their faces at the same height and far enough apart for Genos to see the blush on his teacher’s ears, down to his neck. He had turned his head to side, not meeting his eyes with one arm covering half of his face. Though, his other hand still held onto Genos’ cheek, betraying every embarrassment his body displayed.

“I know”, Saitama mumbled into the crook of arm, almost unintelligible, “this was a stupid idea. A stupid- whatever. It was stupid, y’know.”

“I just … I didn’t know how to- you feel me?” His voice was trembling, his eyes darting around and Genos core was warming up, making his brain feel like on fire in all the right ways. His hand slotted over the hand that was still curled slightly around his temple, fingertips brushing through some loose strands of hair.

“It was stupid, sensei”, Genos agreed, voice box only slightly fizzling with the overcharged energy cursing through his body.  “But it made me reali-“

“It did?!” Saitama’s head jerked up, eyes wide and full of hope as if Genos hadn’t made already clear to him that he would lay the world to his feet on any given moment. Even the eagerness radiating from him right now, so uncharacteristically for him, made Genos fall even deeper for him.

“Yes, sensei”, Genos breathed, overwhelmed with emotions he needed to sort out. But that could wait and was the last thing he thought about when he saw the edges of Saitama’s mouth slowly quirk up, a smile splitting from ear to ear. Breathtaking. Genos didn’t dare to move a muscle, he had to take in this rare sight, bathing in it, absorbing every second of it.

Before leaning in himself, tasting the warmth of his very own sun that healed his aching heart.

[wp-blaze]

Overcome distractions and achieve deep work

Strategies to improve focus and productivity in today’s digital era. Learn actionable tips such as setting priorities, minimizing distractions, practicing mindfulness, and embracing deep work to enhance efficiency and personal fulfillment.

[starshine-selfships]

Local man is desperately in love with his boyfriend but thought too hard and managed to convince himself that he made up the whole romance aspect and his partner doesn't actually feel the same way, so why even continue the act? Also he's wrong and his boyfriend loves him very much and that's all there is to it 😤💕

I am not a writer, I'm an artist, but I felt like giving this a shot. Both of us use he/him and I didn't actually plan anything, so I went back and color coded my own pronouns and dialogue; I do have a version without the colors as a backup however. Tbh I don't really care about the quality since again, I basically never write, and I also wrote this 100% for myself lmao, almost stream of consciousness baybee

That being said, I'm sorry I write like a pretentious victorian poet lsjdkdkx 😣

Soft. Just like everything else about him. Soft hair he yearned to stroke and bury his face in, soft hands shaping the air as he spoke, hands he wanted nothing more than to take into his own, to lift them and press a gentle kiss upon them. He even spoke softly, almost seeming afraid to break the silence, whispering and enunciating words as though speaking a prayer. Hearing his own name spoken in that quiet, intimate tone was enough to make him light headed, immediately overtaken by the delicacy of the interaction. His gaze was the most stunning feature, as it betrayed his past with pinpoint accuracy. The witnessing of humanity's cruelty did nothing to harden his stare; his eyes shone with a purely kind demeanor, merciful and trusting.

And such was the gaze fixed upon him in this moment, and he fought the desperate urge to meet it. He knew he didn't like eye contact and couldn't bear committing such an act of disturbance. He kept his gaze averted, feeling how almost painfully strong his heartbeat had grown, his frail frame beginning to shudder under its force. The incessant pounding had to be audible, and if that alone didn't lie the entirety of his being on the floor in front of him, then the heat steadily spreading across his face surely did. His emotions outpaced him, rushing with such force so that he'd never had a chance to restrain them, instead left fighting a losing war in a desperate attempt to not give himself away.

His gaze flickered nervously back to his beloved. He maintained that gaze long enough to see him smile warmly in response, causing his chest to feel just a bit tighter, his heart to beat only more forcefully. In spite of knowing his error - maintaining that dreaded eye contact - , he couldn't look away; to do so would constitute a betrayal, a moment of recognition followed by willful ignorance. He folded his hands, attempting to return the smile but being far too shaken for it to seem genuine. His darling softly laughed at the awkwardness of the gesture, voice as warm as the morning sun. He could no longer bear the strain of his sight, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away as the laughter rang in his head.

He had to be mistaken. His feelings should not be so insurmountable, something even he couldn't fully grip. He had lost all subtlety, and for what? The slim chance of reciprocation? Did such a chance even exist? He felt as though he'd combust if he remained in that room with him. The initially sweet feelings became sickening as he steeped in them, becoming almost shameful as they continued. He shouldn't need this. He was better than this. Was he though? Why couldn't he stop himself?

Simply stand up and leave? His legs would give out underneath him. Voice his firm objections? His voice would fail him. Physically remove that boy? The very thought of using any force at all placed more weight onto his chest, thinking of the sheer guilt and regret that would come from even accidentally inflicting pain. His attentive nature and eye for detail was his strong suit, but it was also what had gotten him more attached than he'd prefer, faster than he could've ever thought possible.

Beginning with patterns and habits he'd found amusing and leading to finding beauty in his every step. From seeing him avidly read and stargaze, to noticing how the sunlight reflected off his hair, to noticing the colors on barely visible earrings, to seeing his eyes flit back and forth between him and the window. Did he find looking at him to be unpleasant? Was he put off by the antennas? The insect features? The status? The reputation? Did not knowing also keep him awake at night? Did he like music? Did he think brown eyes were pretty? Why was he allowing himself to even consider these questions?

Foreign touch immediately grounded him, his eyes snapping open as he gasped in surprise. How long had he been lost in thought? How had his love gotten so close to him? His hand was on his shoulder. He slid it along his back, unfolding his arm and allowing it to rest on him as well. His touch was delicate, as though afraid of leaving a mark, despite him touching something so much more durable than himself. The affectionate gesture - no. Was it? Or was it merely a means of comforting what could be mistaken for distress? He kept his doubts in mind, not wanting to put an irreparable dent into the connection the two already had. Though, perhaps it would be for the better if he did. Tears welled in his eyes at the very thought of having to walk away, despite knowing it would likely be the best, and perhaps the only, option.

He noticed his love's other, empty hand lifted in front of him, frozen in air, likely pondering his actions as he made them. It was admirable, having such a sense of confidence that he didn't seem to need a plan for his course of action. He merely acted and accepted the outcome regardless, without fear. Yet another curious aspect of this boy that occupied his thoughts. He silently observed, watching him lift his hand out of view, only to grace his fingertips across the side of his face, settling his hand upon his cheek. Surely, surely he could feel how unnaturally warm he'd grown. It was something that had seemed endlessly amusing to his darling, how he was cold blooded and naturally cool to the touch; the heat of the blush had to be tangible. He truly feared how much more strain would be placed on him, the mere shared presence in the room alone enough to almost kill him. The physical contact overwhelmed him so badly he really did feel about to cry.

The gentle contact of his love's hand grew more forceful; still gentle, but with pressure indicative of a voiceless request. He turned his head with the nudge to fully face his beloved, whose face was mere inches from his own. Why was he so intent on such sweet torture? Had he caught on and decided to play before going in for the kill? He committed the sin of eye contact once more. Hazel, he'd been told. That was the color he saw in dreams, of a content present and a blissful future, that color of brilliance. Why wasn't he moving? Why was he allowing this? Why was his darling's hand in motion once more? Keeping his hand on his cheek, he had slid his thumb to the side, lightly gracing his lower lip. An unspoken request. No longer able to bear the weight of his own desire, he conceded to his affections and attempted to assent. He spoke, wide eyed and unblinking, his voice almost pathetically weak, borderline pleading in a strained whisper,

"... please...",

feeling defeated, yet also quite excited. He may have lost the war, but was being offered a consolation prize that would, even though only briefly, take away the painful sting of his own internal, personal loss.

His love inched yet closer and his eyes fluttered shut, as though he couldn't bear looking away for even a moment. He closed his own eyes as well, as if in response, but this time to better perceive instead of closing himself off. He could feel the warmth radiating from the petit boy in front of him, warmer than anything his own body could naturally produce. Basking in sunlight each morning to fully wake; spending the morning next to someone so close to his heart would feel just as holy. Like the delicate sensation of sunlight on the body, he felt the motion of his beloved as his lips graced his own, before he finally settled into the kiss, still subtly caressing his cheek with his hand.

He felt a quick tear streak down his face. Gentle gestures, all of them. When it came to him, they always were. It was as though he was incapable of harm in any capacity; he seemed almost afraid of being unloving or anything less than cheerful. His natural disposition towards brightness was reflected by everyone he interacted with, making others feel welcome and putting them at ease. In that moment, he also felt at ease, in spite of his doubts and insecurity, he felt at ease, melting into the touch of his.. lover? Was it fair to call him that? In the light and warmth of the kissing, it certainly seemed so.

After a period of drawing it out, going back for more and more, he finally broke away, opening his eyes once more to examine him. He opened his own eyes, slowly and with an amount of care, almost as if he were guilty after the act and nervous about what he would see. He looked into the eyes of the boy who stared back at him as though he were the one who'd put the sun in the sky. He softly smiled as he took in the scene, feeling tears begin to pool in his eyes once more. He felt he'd had confirmation that he was being irrational, but needed evidence that was nothing short of absolutely damning before he could fully accept it. He realized he was likely making him uncomfortable by looking him directly in the eyes again, they'd had that conversation before, he knew he shouldn't, it must be so irritating-

"Your eyes are so pretty."

He froze. He froze, finally breaking down and beginning to cry. His partner was well acquainted with his tears, and he knew there wasn't much he could do to stem their flow. Even with that in mind, he still wanted to console and soothe sudden wave of emotion.

"Are you alright? Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sing-song query in a half whisper. He sniffled and looked down at his hands, fidgeting in discomfort. He didn't want to overwhelm or alarm him, so he felt it best to choose his words carefully. But even then, he felt the horrific weight of finality hanging over him.

"Sometimes, I find it hard to believe that you do love me."

Confusion, hurt, and mild surprise. His lover almost seemed to anticipate it, making his heart feel like it was sinking further.

"Elaborate."

He drew a deep breath, sighing in pain and bracing himself for if he began to cry harder. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. Barely able to speak, he forced broken sentences together, making a pathetic attempt to communicate anything at all before he dissolved into tears.

"Why?"

No response.

"Why me?"

Silence. The weight of every mistake he'd ever made was bearing down on him. Surely it was apparent how disgustingly flawed he was, not suitable-

"Well, this is a new one."

.. What?

"You really think I don't love you?"

He said it almost as though it were a joke.

"We've been together for almost two years now, and that's a choice both of us made. I can't even count how many chances I had to just, get up and walk away."

He cupped his face with both of his hands now; he lifted his own hands and placed them over his. He was crying freely, falling just short of actively sobbing.

"But I never took any of those chances. I want to be with you. You're a very sweet man and. Well it's horrible that you've got the mental conditions you do, but because we have the same kind, you've never missed a beat when it comes to making me feel better. And I wanna be able to do that for you too. You make me so happy and I wanna be able to make you feel the same way."

His head was bowed as he openly wept. He needed damning proof and it was handed to him, wrapped in ribbon and sealed with a kiss. He smiled through his tears out of sheer relief. His joy, his love, lover. The light didn't scorch and burn as he feared, but rather warmed and lifted the fog that had been enveloping him. He lifted his head once more, to look at his sweetheart with a mind unclouded by guilt.

"You don't like eye contact, you kept telling me-"

"I don't mind when you do it."

His eyes widened and his vision was once more blurred with tears. The lack of regret and remorse didn't unclutter his thoughts, and he was left unable to answer. What was there to say? Thank you? I needed to know that, despite already knowing it? My irrationality occasionally makes my life a living hell and I'm grateful for your extended patience? Admittedly, there was one thought that dominated and laid his soul bare on pure impulse-

"I love you."

"I love you too."

His lover slipped his hands out from beneath his own and motioned to encircle him in a hug, a gesture he enthusiastically returned. Resting his head against him, holding him and being held by him, knowing for certain that each step he himself took was perfectly mirrored by the boy in his arms; it was all more than he could ever ask for. He wished he could etch this moment into his memory, to never again doubt his lover or himself so deeply. While he did feel guilty for harboring such needless doubt, his partner would never be upset with him for worrying, and this he felt with certainty. Some of his many chances to leave very well were occasions where he'd been in hysterics over things that later proved to be inconsequential. He'd seen the ugliest and worst of him, yet, at the end of the day, he still chose love. His memories and the words spoken to him were perfectly interlaced, leaving no room for doubt. He was loved, and that's all there was to it.

[metalgearkong]

Ghost of Tsushima - Review (PS4)

9/21/20

Developed by Sucker Punch Productions, released July 2020

Let’s not beat around the bush: Ghost of Tsushima may be my favorite game of this console generation, and one of my favorite games of all time. This is a massive samurai tale crammed with unforgettable moments, characters, and environments. After finishing this game, I felt like I had been through no less than the peak samurai experience in any entertainment medium. Never before have I stood up and given a standing ovation for a video game upon the credits rolling. While feeling complete and filled to the brim, there are small technical aspects that do have room for improvement in the potential sequel. Sucker Punch came out of nowhere and knocked the world on its ass with a fantastic stylized epic feudal Japanese journey, one I can never forget. 

Ghost of Tushima is open-world, easily comparable to The Witcher 3 or a modern Ubisoft title. What Ghost of Tsushima brings to the table is its incredibly realized medieval Japanese world, to the same extent Red Dead Redemption brought the mythic American Wild West to life. Authenticity can be found in every corner, and I set the game for Japanese voices and English subtitles to extend the immersion (something I can’t recommend enough). The Mongols have invaded Japan, and their first stop is Tsushima island. The samurai here are all that stops the massive army from reaching the mainland. The details themselves might not be perfectly accurate to 1274 Japan, but the world itself is consistent, which is what’s most important. 

The game begins with a huge battle, as we take control of our main character Jin Sakai (Daisuke Tsuji / Kazuya Tsuji) right away. An orphan raised to be a samurai by his uncle Lord Shimura (Eric Steinberg / Akio Otsuka), Jin holds guilt and shame for not being able to save his father in battle when he was young, and strives to be the best warrior possible. The explosive intro gives us a quick intro to the open combat, and leads in to a fairly typical tutorial, adding in brief lessons on stealth, and using evasive tactics & tools. I remember how panful the combat first felt, as each strike looked like something akin to a samurai film. The main villain and leader of the Mongols Khotun Khan (Patrick Gallagher / Tsutomu Isobe) establishes himself as a despicable person, and someone totally opposite to the samurai honor-bound code of combat. He wants to conquer Tushima by any means necessary, and Jin is the only one willing to adapt his fighting style to combat this new  dishonorable and overwhelming threat.

Jin Sakai is closer to a Geralt, rather than a blank slate avatar character of a Fallout or Elder Scrolls game; He has a specific personality, background, and motivation. Part of the overarching story is Jin learning to rely on tactics he would normally frown upon in order to stand a change against the Mongol forces. This is something his uncle highly detests and forbids Jin to do, leading to a secondary conflict in the story. This is useful for also explaining in the gameplay why the player can either face enemies out in the open, or scurry around and stabbing them in the neck. Of course, most players will do a bit of both, and whatever suits the situation of how you’re feeling in the moment. The best part is, it’s not an binary dilemma, as open combat and stealth can be used completely intermixed at any time.

Personally, one of my favorite parts about the game was unlocking and finding new apparel and color schemes for my outfits. This game (eventually) allows you to dress anywhere from humble peasant, to shinobi of the night, to fully armored samurai warrior. My only nit pick is I wish the game gave you more cosmetic options to buy or find earlier in the game, as I felt limited to just a few outfits and accessories at first. There’s nothing more awesome than manually sheathing your sword after slicing up a dozen grunts, all the while your cape and robes aggressively blowing in the wind. The game allows you to manually bow and play a flute as well, adding the immersion of every moment of the game. You travel the huge island via horseback, and can summon your horse at any instance with the push of the button. I also love how quickly you pick up items, by merely pushing R2. No needless animations or time spend slowing the momentum for the sake or grit or realism.

One of the most unique aspects of the game is using the wind as your guide. If you really wanted to, you’d never have to open your map to know how to get to your current quest. Simply swipe up on the touch pad, and the wind blows in the direction you need to go (the game doesn’t even feature an in-game minimap or radar). This kicks up leaves, twigs, sand, and other particles which add greatly to the visual appeal of the game, and help make you feel closer to the environment itself. Adding to this is how foxes and birds can lead you to hidden secrets, upgrades, or new gear. With so few HUD elements, focus on paying attention to the environment, and the gorgeous lighting and scenery, Ghost of Tsushima gave me to many moments where I felt spiritually uplifted in its world. Despite not having the budget of a super high end Naughty Dog or Rockstar game, Ghost of Tsushima remains one of the most beautiful games I’ve ever played, and much of that leans on the art style and environmental effects alone.

Missions are equally entertaining whether they come from a main character or minor character you happen upon. Most quests may involve (but aren’t limited to) tracking, fighting, sneaking, climbing, riding, and spying. I especially enjoyed quests with specific limitations, such as having to remain undetected and not to kill any guards. Eventually, however, due to the game’s long length, some of the missions do start to show their repetitiveness, and I don’t think it would have been horrible if the overall run time was 10-15% shorter. I also enjoyed the fact that so much effort was put into side activities that feel serene and peaceful, akin to the Buhddist and Shinto side of being a samurai. Composing haikus and bathing in hot springs to increase your total health felt very much in the spirit of a Bushido lifestyle; always a calm in between the storms of violence. The fact that not all side content is action oriented was a very neat and authentic detail.

Samurai duels were some of my favorite parts of the game. Occasionally Jin would come across an opponent or rival with legitimate swordsmanship skills, and has to face them in an arena. These locations where the duels would take place never failed to be more epic than the next. Duels act like boss fights in the game, and incorporate similar combat to the regular open world combat--only Jin can’t use secondary items such as kunai, his bow, or smoke bombs. These moments were ripe for the photo mode, something I used throughout this game constantly, as its packed with incredible environmental design and lighting effects to make almost every moment and location feel like a living painting. Samurai duels were usually never very difficult, including the ending boss fights, but they always looked awesome and felt damned satisfying.

The game does suffer from some minor technical glitches, but these small drawbacks mean next to nothing compared to how impressively the rest of the game was designed and executed. Frequently I would approach an enemy group and want to initiate a stand off (the samurai version of a high noon cowboy duel) but the game either didn’t give me the option or the option blinked on screen for only a moment and I was unable to do it. Something similar would happen for stealth kills, as sometimes instead of doing the assassination animation when prompted, Jin just did a regular slash attack instead, blowing my cover. Situations like this didn’t happen often, but were consistent enough to notice. I give Sucker Punch a huge pass on these small technical details, as they never ruined my experience of the game, remaining small frustrations on occasion.

Ghost of Tsushima is a greatest hits of iconic feudal Japanese visuals, sounds, tropes, settings, and themes. Countless details build upon this heightened version of Japanese history, making this game an all in one interactive Kurosawa film. Everything from the sword duel boss fights, to the multiple fighting stances, to the stealth, to the nature surrounding you, everything has been executed with extreme skill and thoughtfulness. It can have its small moments showing a lack of polish either in the visuals or mechanics, but Sucker Punch more than accomplished what they set out to do. Ghost of Tsushima is the best PlayStation 4 exclusive, and by far one of my favorite games of all time. If you have any interest in the open world genre, and love the Japanese culture and art style, Ghost of Tsushima likely won’t let you down. An amazing adventure wreathed in katanas, honor, blood, wind, and cute foxes. 

9.5/10