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mystic-sky · 4 years

Note

One shot wherein the s/o of Gojo Satoru gets injured trying to protect him and brought to the hospital but doesnt die. With a mountain of angst pls. 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

Word Count: 1.6k

16-year old Satoru had never known much about compassion, or any crucial emotions that would’ve paved the way for him to be a brilliant jujutsu sorcerer, through and through. He lived life as he went, nonchalant and never dispatching empathy in the moments it mattered most. You appeared like wildfire, ringing out so many emotions from him all at once. You were placed on his team without warning, and he felt like you were just another nuisance for him to have to pretend to worry about. You were undeniably cute though, which was the only reason he ever made conversation with you from time to time. But even though he flirted with you, he was always sure to remind you that he was always better, stronger and more talented.

One day, to his surprise, you gave him a piece of your mind when he tried to pursue you. You told him to learn some manners, some compassion, and to come back when he wasn’t an asshole. You expressed that he was arrogant, and all but so many people would tolerate him the way some teachers and his so called “team mates” did.

“No ones going to fall in love with you for real if you keep being a jerk.”

That was when he first learned of rejection. He was so used to having everything he wanted. It didn’t register in his brain the first time that you didn’t like him. He picked on you more because of it, unfortunately. You were thick skulled, and headstrong. You were charming for someone who started out so weak. He watched as you worked hard, and never asked for help from him or Suguru, or Shoko unless it was for the sake of the mission at hand. You were extremely talented. Just a late bloomer.

He asked you why you became a sorcerer one day, much to your surprise. You explained it to him and from that day on, he wasn't so much of an asshole towards you. He’d learned of admiration, but considering he was so cocky, he never did tell you that. Instead, he went from saying things like “Leave this to us” to “I’ll leave this to you.”

Maybe you do or don’t realize that he finally acknowledges you as strong, but you do know talking to him was 40% more bearable when you reached your third year of high school.

That same year, you lose someone who was close to you. You had no control over it. The way it happened, the result was inevitable. It had nothing to do with weakness or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are some outcomes in life that are meant to happen- and no one is ready for it. All he knows is that he didn’t like how it made you feel. He couldn’t give you a rebuttal on how it was possibly yours or someone else’s shortcomings that fated such a thing to happen. Instead, you both sat on the steps of the school long past curfew, sharing ice cream while he watched you cry. Neither of you spoke. For the first time in his life, he had nothing to say. He also knew he shouldn’t leave you there. He hoped his silence and presence would convey something, along with the free ice cream. This was the night Satoru learned sympathy.

He never wanted you to feel that way ever again. He became a bubbly force, always in your face. He smothered you with activities, sweets, things that became memories to deter you from your loss, and somehow amongst it all, you forgot that you hated him.

Some years had gone by. You'd become a fine jujutsu sorcerer, with the help of Satoru and so many others. You’d acknowledged him as a friend and possibly something more due his flirtatious personality. He had became someone who filled the void of the person you lost, showing you that life does in fact go on.

“It took you way too long to kill that thing,” he rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a special grade jujutsu sorcerer? Get it together (Name).”

He playfully scolded you. “You literally stood there and watched me do all the work.” Your clothes were stained of blood, but you weren’t bothered entirely. You were looking for something to wipe your hands with, shaking them violently at the ground.

“What can I say, you’re truly a site to behold.” He winked, dwindling a handkerchief in front of you. The flutter in your chest was erratic.

“Nonetheless, I knew you could do it. I was just here for moral support.” He grinned, patting you on the head.

“Satoru,” You say, turning towards him and sheathing your weapon. “You’re really important to me. You’ve had my back since we went to Jujutsu Tech and then some. I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you for always being there for me.”

“So, thank you.” You say, offering him the warmest smile and making his heart skip a beat. He hadn’t known what to say. You hadn't ever put him on the spot like this before, which is what it made it so easy for him to be around you. You never praised him for anything, yet here you were thanking him, smiling at him like you loved him or something-

Did you? He wondered. He didn’t undertsand what it was he felt when he started to ponder the idea of you loving him. You never once complimented him on his looks, nor had you ever reciprocated his flirtations. And here he was, actively being your friend because he admired your character. He didn’t even know himself anymore.

“Stop staring at me like that and say you’re welcome.” You sass, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You’re freaking me out.”

“We’re friends. You don’t have to thank me for that.” He said cockily, getting right back in character. That night, he realized what it meant to love someone.

He got home and laid in bed, trying to draw the line in his head between how he loved you and how he loved kikufuku. Then he tried depicting the differences between his bromance with Geto Suguru and his friendship with you. He knew he liked being around you, and whatever goals in life he would eventually pursue- he wanted you to be there too.

You never once made it obvious that you liked him back in any sort of way, and it ticked him off. He would spend some days doing everything in his power to get a reaction out of you, even a kabedon, to which you burst out laughing in response. Satoru had never actually experienced true defeat until that moment. You had became one of the most precious things in the world to him, but he thought you were so dense and oblivious it pained him. He wanted to give up on pursuing you, but no one else in his entire life had ever made him feel anything. All these emotions he discovered were extensions and results of you allowing him to integrate himself into your life during your darkest moment. You had thanked him for being there; he wanted you to say so much more.

So when you leapt in front of him, coughing up blood in his direction and shielding his body, there wasn't a reason he could summon for it. What made him feel sick to his stomach is how you managed to smile whilst being impaled by the horns of the curse behind you. The rough taste of iron plagued your tongue and blood plopped from your lips and down your chin.

He caught your body with one arm, cradling you, before using his free hand to clutch the creature’s skull. He smashed it instantly, blood spattering all around your bodies.

“Why did you do that?” He found himself panicking. He knelt down, stripping himself of his shirt and attempting to suppress the bleeding. “You’re not weak and you’re not stupid- why?!”

“Because, Satoru, I love you.” You say through blurry eyes. He’s petrified. Satoru Gojo did not know loss or grief. He was sure to feel it if you died right there in his arms. He already killed the curse that fatally attacked you. If you died, what would his purpose beyond that be? The only thing he hadn’t done yet was tell you he loved you. He knew in that moment that he loved you. But before the words could fall from his lips, your body went limp in his lap.

“No...” He took hold of you, immediately teleporting to the nearest hospital. If you died, he would blame it on his own incompetence. He’d flaw himself for this moment alone and take responsibility. He found himself praying to whatever God there might be, begging them to spare your short lived life. Not without him saying it back.

After multiple surgeries and blood transfusions, the doctors had informed him you were going to live, but recovery would take some time. Your cursed ability was able to delay the blood loss and neutralize a bit of the damage just before it became entirely fatal. He was thankful, the most he’s ever been for anything.

“I told you, you’re not weak,” he stared down at your comatose body. “You may make stupid decisions. But you’re not helpless.”

His voice cracked a bit whilst saying this, as he knelt beside you. He would stay with you endlessly through your recovery no matter how long it took. Nothing else mattered.

He was going to tell you that he loves you too.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff

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hurting-fictional-people · 4 years

Text

Day two

Just a quick disclaimer: I tried to read about blood loss and stuff to make this as accurate as possible but in the end, the real scientific and completely medically precise source used to describe how Noah feels is how bad I feel after drawing blood when I can’t eat beforehand. So just ignore the medical inaccuracies please hsdjfhj

CW: lab whump, medical setting, needles, drawing blood, manhandling, restraints, muzzle

“Mr. Reeve, the doctor has requested you.”

It was weird how, sometimes, words felt physical. Noah was sitting on the bed one moment, trying to talk to his roommate – who kept dodging his questions –, and in the next, he was up and backing away to the wall farthest from the door and the guards waiting there, hands raised in surrender as a shiver ran through his body.

Even though he could hear his heart racing and feel his stomach churning, Noah grinned at the guards and crooned “You can go and tell dear dr. Carver to shove his request up his– “

Before he could finish, three guards hovered over him. Unforgiving hands grabbed his arms and hauled him out of the room, jerking in the tight grip.

Maverick, who had kept mostly to himself as Noah tried to get him to spill out everything he knew about the facility, stood up with a frown and called his name, but Noah was left guessing what he was about to say as the doors locked them each in one side.

He thrashed and kicked for half of the way before giving up.

“Fine, I’ll stop fighting, you guys can let me go. I’ll lose my arms if you keep cutting off my circulation like this.”

As soon as the hands left his arms, though, Noah darted forward. The hallways were endless and identical, but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least try to leave.

Noah didn’t even get to the corner before he was thrown to the ground face-first, avoiding breaking his nose by turning his head in the last possible second, hands held behind him and a knee on his back. A high-pitched yelp escaped his lips as the guard barked at his ear, “done with the antics, kid?”

He nodded against the cold tile. The man pulled him up but didn’t let go of his arms, still painfully twisted behind his back. Noah groaned, but didn’t bother complaining – he knew he wouldn’t be heard anyway.

Noah tried his best not to think of where he was going or what might be awaiting him, but when they stopped in front of sliding metal doors, he was already trembling. One of the guards typed something on a keyboard by the door, and as it opened, Noah had to lock his knees to keep them from bucking.

He stood before a wide lab, eyes darting between trays filled with needles, flasks, and sharp objects he didn’t know the name of but filled him with unease either way; cabinets he was sure held more of the frightening instruments; and the metal table, right in the middle of it all, surrounded by restraints.

He swallowed audibly and started to back away instinctively, earning a growl from a guard and an annoyed shove forward.

Dr. Carver looked up at him from where he rummaged through a cabinet and straightened up, smiling at the false bravado Noah was trying to pull.

“Noah! How nice of you to join us,” the doctor cooed, giving him a wink. Noah wished to have his hands free so he could punch that fucking wink out of that smug face. “On the table, please.”

“If your henchmen stop trying to dislocate my shoulder,” he hissed, writhing against the hands holding him.

The doctor only tilted his head to the side and admired the scene as the guards pushed him down on the table and buckled restraints around his ankles, his wrists, his chest, his hips. Noah swore through gritted teeth, loudly and profusely enough to feel burning glares from the nurses and other doctors strolling around the lab, casually ignoring him until then.

“Language, kid,” Dr. Carver chastised.

“Fuck you, you crazy fucking psycho, sadistic creep,” Noah grunted.

“Quit insulting me, Noah, it won’t do you any good.”

“I wasn’t insulting you, asshole, I was describing you,” he replied, pushing against the restraints and finding no give.

He expected annoyance at least, fury at best in response to his retort. Instead, he was met with an amused smile.

“Did you know we’re recording every test and experiment?” the doctor said softly, towering over Noah’s defenseless figure. “I’m going to take great pleasure in watching this later, once I’ve taught you how to behave properly.”

“We’ll see about that, doc,” Noah smirked, hoping it would conceal the dread pooling in his stomach.

“This is one of the wild ones, huh? We’ll see how long It lasts,” someone muttered behind him, earning low chuckles from faceless people. Suddenly it was too hard to keep up the fearless facade as helplessness fell over him like a thick blanket, stealing his breath away. They talked about Noah like he was a zoo animal – locked up against his will, just a helpless and unwilling entertainment. A lab rat. It was hard not to feel like it.

“Are you done being a brat?” Dr. Carver asked, dragging a stool and a metal tray on wheels next to Noah. “Let us begin, then.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he shouted, but no one listened.

Noah trashed as hard as he could, but all he could do was scratch his skin against the harsh material strapping him to the table.

“I’m not doing anything yet, kid. Hold still or this is going to be a lot more painful than it has to,” Carver warned with a look a parent might give a disobedient child.

Noah only thrashed harder.

Hands came from everywhere, grabbing his body all at the same time. A tourniquet was tied to his arm way too tightly, a cotton-tipped swab stuck up his nose so high it burned and made his eyes water. Before he could do as much as take a breath, a needle was stabbed into his vein so harshly and abruptly he couldn’t help by cry out.

“I told you to hold still,” dr. Carver said in a sing-song voice that got Noah clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

As people continued to poke and prod him, Noah searched for the small black circle of a camera, finding one in each corner of the room. Staring straight at the closest one, he screamed “I want this to stop now! I do not allow my body or my image to be used in this experiment! They are keeping me captive and using me against my will!”

When he finished, shaky hands, gasping breath and raw voice, a chuckle filled the room.

“Cute,” Dr. Carver commented, patting his hand. He didn’t get a chance to scratch the man before he took the hand away. “But the recordings are mine and are never going to be seen by anyone else. Nice try, though.”

He would have replied, weren’t for the harsh hands suddenly holding his head still. Noah tried to bite and scream, but he was truly helpless to stop them when a piece of metal was shoved inside his mouth, keeping his tongue uncomfortably pressed to his palate, his jaw unable to fully close or open, and someone held his head up as another buckled straps behind it.

A muzzle.

They muzzled him.

Noah stared at dr. Carver with wide, betrayed eyes. The man simply giggled and continued to fill a bag with his blood. He tried to force his jaw open, to say something, anything, but the muzzle was strapped tight, and all he could produce was a pitiful whine. Shame filled him to the brim, making his cheeks burn.

“Don’t worry kid, this is just so you stop screaming and don’t give us a headache since we’re going to be here for a while,” the doctor said in a tranquilizing voice. “We’ll take it out once we’re done.”

He looked at Noah expectantly, as if waiting for a response, his smile wrapped in just the right amount of mockery to make Noah seethe.

With even his words taken away, Noah let his body sag on the table, eyes closed to keep the tears from falling as the doctors went on.

They took X-rays, ultrasounds, and countless tests no one cared to tell him the name of or what they were for. His body was handled by precise, impersonal hands, moving him slightly when needed, like a puppet being rearranged on stage. Like an object, made to be played with. Whenever he had the chance, Noah writhed as best as he could just to annoy the doctors, but the satisfaction it earned him was quickly muddled by the pain when they tightened the restraints so hard his extremities started to tingle.

It wasn’t the pain he was scared of. He had agreed on participating in the experiment before he knew it was actually a prison, knowing it would probably include some degree of pain. It was the lack of freedom that made him sick to his stomach with panic. The loss of his free will, which he had fought so hard to conquer, now being taken away in the blink of an eye. It hurt more than anything those so-called doctors could do to him.

And so, it hurt inside and out, as strangers with apathetic eyes used his body as if there was no one inside, whimpering softly and hoping that dreadful day could just come to an end.

After what felt like forever, when Noah was already dizzy and weak from all the blood they’d taken – why did they need two blood bags and that many tubes, anyway? –, dr. Carver smiled sweetly and shook his shoulder to get him out of the sleepy daze he didn’t realize he was in.

“We’re all done here, kid. I’d say you did good, but you really didn’t. You also lost quite a bit of blood and haven’t eaten anything, so I’d recommend resting and eating whatever we send to your room unless you want to be back here sooner rather than later. Hopefully next time you’ll behave better, and we won’t have to use the muzzle or the restraints, huh?”

His head was lifted, the muzzle taken away, leaving his jaw aching and his pride scattered somewhere along the floor, replaced by anger and embarrassment.

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t tie me down just to see me struggling, doc. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, working his jaw to try and alleviate the ache.

“You’ll be so cute when you learn to keep your mouth shut, Noah,” Carver sighed, not looking at all as annoyed as his words might’ve suggested. Actually, he sounded more entertained than anything.

With an indifferent nod to someone Noah couldn’t see, the doctor patted his cheek patronizingly and turned away.

A part of Noah felt the impulse of provoking the man one last time, just to try and get a reaction out of him, but the rest just wanted to curl up and sleep, forget that this day ever existed. So, when the guards surrounded him, unbuckling the restraints with maddening slowness, Noah just laid there and waited, too worn out to do or say anything.

The walk back to the room looked more like two grown men dragging a rag doll through disturbing hallways, but Noah was so faint and defeated that he just sank in their grip and stumbled across the cold floors.

He didn’t even realize they were already in front of his cell until the guards let go of his arms and shoved him inside. The ground approached quickly as his knees bent with the sudden push, but instead of being met with chilly tile and pain, he was enveloped by warm arms and a comforting presence holding all his weight.

“Thanks,” he murmured as Maverick helped him straighten up before staggering toward the bed.

“You are either the most intriguing subject they ever got their hands on, or you really pissed someone off if they left you like this on your second day here,” Maverick remarked, sitting on his own bed across Noah’s.

“I don’t think Carver likes being called a crazy fucking psycho,” Noah said in as smug a tone as he could muster, “or a sadistic creep.”

Maverick pursed his lips, but a snorted laugh was quick to escape them. He shook his head slowly, laughing audible for a moment before forcing his mouth back shut and replacing the softness the laughter had spread across his face with a slight frown. “Bold. But you shouldn’t do that, Noah. The sooner you stop resisting, the less they’ll actively hurt you.”

“They are keeping me captive; they are hurting me either way.”

Maverick glared at him, jaw pressed tight. “You are hardly escaping. It’s better to comply and accept the mercy you can have than fight for a lost cause.”

“The day I stop fighting, Maverick, is the day my fucking soul dies. If I comply, then I give up and I am never doing that. And you know what? You shouldn’t either – if you let them convince you that you can’t escape, then you really won’t.”

The words fell out of his mouth in a stumbling croak, his tongue feeling weird and sore inside his mouth. Even so, Noah would’ve kept going if the other man hadn’t turned his face away, brows furrowed and gaze furious. He would’ve been sorry for scolding him, but Noah truly meant what he’d said.

“Hey, how long have you been here?” it was hard to keep a lighthearted tone when he felt absolutely miserable, but Noah forced himself to roll to his side and swallow down the nausea and the humiliation that seemed to have stuck to him.

“I don’t know, they don’t let us keep track of time,” was the low answer, a hint of sadness tinging every word. “You have to make peace with what you’re living now, Noah. I’ve been here for longer, and I can tell you for sure: people don’t leave this place. The only thing we can do is hope that today doesn’t hurt as badly as yesterday.”

Helplessness emanated from Maverick as the words left his mouth. Noah’s roommate had clearly been through a lot more than he had, and he knew that arguing would render him nothing. So Noah kept his mouth shut and silently promised himself he would prove Maverick wrong.

“Are you okay?” Maverick asked suddenly.

“Yeah, why?”

It was a flat out lie. Noah’s body felt feeble and strained after so many hours held in the same position, his head hurt, and he feared he might start crying anytime.

“You are so pale your lips have disappeared.”

Noah pouted, trying to see his colorless lips.

“Damn, I can’t believe I’m already making a bad impression. Wanted to look nice at least on the first few days, you know?” he mumbled, the instinct to joke and hide his vulnerability taking over.

“You look like a very handsome ghost, don’t worry.”

Noah managed to crack out a smile as Maverick stared so intensely at his face, he feared he was looking at his soul.

“I think you’ll be okay, you just need to eat something and rest for a bit,” his roommate finally stated, glancing at the box attached to the wall from where the meals came in. “I’ll keep watch for when they deliver some food. You should sleep for now, I know you didn’t last night. Tell me if you start feeling worse or if anything changes, alright?”

Noah nodded once before curling up and closing his eyes. Strangely enough, he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, too exhausted to even think about how he could still feel the muzzle pressed against his face. For once, he just laid there and let himself be lulled by the warm presence watching over him, knowing he wasn’t alone after such a terrible day.

When Noah woke up, he was alone in the cell, Maverick’s absence feeling like a weight on his stomach. This time the unease he felt looking around had nothing to do with blood loss.

#whump #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #defiant whumpee #lab whump #medical setting #needles cw #blood mention #experiment whump #experimentation whump #medical whump #test subject #lab rats

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senju-sekhmet · 3 years

Text

The Leash (Part 9)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~6000 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8 Read on AO3! Disclaimer below the cut! more updates. is it really a disclaimer still, i wonder lmao

DISCLAIMER! we are nearing the grand finale of this fic!! please stick until the very end okay?! i know this chapter might be a little bit of a drag - it’ll get better, promise. <3 Other than that: enjoy my very self indulgent work, filled with my own headcanons and angst galore. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!!!! ________ Leaving you had been a real test of will. Not only were you in such a deplorable state overall, but also your request - it was quite obvious you were putting on a brave face, but the truth of the matter was you weren’t faring well, at all. It was the little signs that gave you away - the slight tremor in your voice sometimes. The gallows humour. He didn’t want to think about what the withdrawal had been like for you. But he could well imagine. And as per usual, he was helpless except to unravel how to produce more of this damned leash. He couldn’t even heal you or alleviate some of your exhaustion at this point.

By the time he had reached the laboratory he was frustrated beyond measure, sick from guilt and his heart was aching that if he didn’t know better, he might as well think he was sick. He wasn’t, of course. But eliciting such bodily responses due to his emotional state was something entirely foreign to Tobirama. He was - always had been - subject to his moods, sure. And the people around him would know his sour moods, especially. But would he carelessly act on them, or physically feel them like this? No. Luckily it was the middle of the night and there had been nobody around to witness the somber scowl he was wearing. Not that he cared, anyway.

In the grand scheme of things, that was the least of his concerns.

He had contemplated testing his newest result on another prisoner, but ultimately decided against it. The best he could hope for was a prolonged time of muting the victim’s chakra. What he really needed to start working on now was to weave the second component in, the disruption. And since he had four vials available, that offered a variety of options. He’d leave one untouched, to be safe - and work on one for now to start with that.

The first problem was to imagine how he’d want the disruption to kick in. He knew from examining your blood and also the reaction you’ve shown that it took some time for the disruption to kick in. He had deduced it must be because of the chakra muting component - it covered the disruption up to leave a timeframe in which a victim was not threatened by it. When it faded, only the disruption remained, the lethal withdrawal kicked in. Therefore, the chakra needed for this would need to last longer, adhere to the victim almost like a brand and be intense enough to cause these effects. He did have a vague idea how to achieve this - but to compress it into such a small vial was… daunting.

What’s new, he somberly figured to himself.

And just as he imagined, this proved to be even more complicated than weaving the first component in. Not only did he have to treat delicately, but also be extremely careful to not destroy the structures he had worked so hard to get into that vial in the first place. He didn’t quite succeed in that - partly, the muting component took damage. The whole process felt as though he needed to weave chakra inbetween what was already in the vial - as if he was transplanting it onto the already delicate structure he had created. It was endlessly frustrating. Frankly everything about this was so demanding, at times he wondered if there really was no other option to get a cure.

Like torturing the prisoners to a maximum.

The more time he spent threading the more he became convinced there must be some trick to it. That, or it required an intense amount of training. If it was the latter, then he’d be facing a new problem.

He’d deal with that when it came to it. His plate was full as it was.

Once he got a hang of how to weave it in without wrecking the delicate structure of the first pattern, his gaze swept to the clock. It was long past midnight. Time for a small break. As much as he hated it, he didn’t want to use his clones yet again - he needed to figure this out more, firstly. If he had no real idea where to truly go with this, his clones’ works would just ramp up more exhaustion. More he needed to sleep off. Besides, this would not be so much of a break - though you were stable, he simply didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone. Not after your request - not after seeing you in your frightfully weak state. He had to check on you, as he promised.

He teleported back into your dimly lit room. Briefly, he gazed out of the window - the sky was clear, the moon shone bright and there were a million stars alongside it. It was beautiful. Silently, he walked to your bedside again to find you had your eyes closed. Finally - finally your face seemed peaceful. Gaunt, for sure, but not in pain. Tobirama settled down into his chair and laid his hand on yours, as lightly as he could to not wake you up. Very slowly he let his chakra skim over your network to find it dormant as well, pleased you still were asleep. Equally slow, he increased the connection to examine you as softly as possible. As usual, the injuries, microscopic tears, tissue damages and healing bits were too numerous to count. And there also was the general lack of reserves overall - a result from the strain put on you by the stretching of the interval no doubt. Even so, your cardiovascular situation was superior and no organ showed any sign of dysfunction. A pleasant surprise - compared to before, you were doing even better. Seems that aside from the exhaustion you had recovered well from their first stunt. He withdrew quickly before you could notice his presence and leaned back in his chair.

Had they gone by their normal schedule, you’d be left with four and a half days now. And Tobirama hadn’t even yet produced something that was anywhere near the leash. For all the grief it had put you through, it was a small victory. Admitting this felt wrong, though - despicable. It was the method. And he wasn’t sure how much time they’d gain from this, overall. His medical expertise wasn’t comparable to his brother’s, but he didn’t think you’d keep up lengthier intervals. Maybe if you’d been in peak physical condition.

He groaned slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.

Part of him didn't want to think anymore, now. He felt stretched out, thin. Spent. But of course, his mind wouldn't stop.

He vividly remembered the first time you went into withdrawal. The torment you had been going through. Just because you hadn’t been writhing or screaming now didn’t mean it was more bearable - no. You had been sedated this time. Tobirama was quite sure the whole procedure was hell for you, nonetheless, and all that kept you together was your unbreakable will to live.

If that ever faltered…

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes. Already his heart pumped painfully against his ribcage, he had expected it. The all too familiar ache, the grief. The guilt.

I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you.

It was all he could do. Though he caustically surmised, so far he had done a less than stellar job.

He returned to the lab as soon as his concentration felt up to the maddening task yet again. Having seen you again quite possibly helped a great deal to spur him on again despite the hour and how daunting it all felt - he just had to produce some kind of breakthrough now. He knew it. He could feel it. This is the way. He didn’t allow himself another break from the delicate weaving process until finally he inspected a vial containing both components now. Using his sensory skills he sent a weak, short-range chakra pulse through it.

The substance was not like the leash, no. If the leash was shining like a beacon, his copy was a torch, at least. It was progress, compared to the last time. He silently wondered if adding the second component had done this. Then came the next test - examining it directly. Again, the result was that his vial seemed inferior: while the chakra swirled in it in a quite complicated pattern, finely woven, he did distinguish the two different components after a little bit. The liquid made it difficult as it stayed ever in motion, but it was as though he was seeing two different colors.

It was a step forward, at least. He’d be testing this soon. Based on that - and the test subject’s blood work - he’d draw new conclusions. Still, there was more time to work on this vial further. The weaving itself was becoming something of a craft - with each moment he’d learn new tricks to it. A taxing one that seemed entirely focused on details, tiniest nudges and using small amounts of chakra at a time, but a craft nonetheless.

Had he not been so pressed for time, he might’ve actually found it interesting. But right now, all he felt was your torment breathing down his neck, wrenching his heart around and stealing his breath.

He wanted this over with.

It was early morning when he finished his work - not that he’d call it that, but he decided there was more merit to testing it out now. Even so, he’d check up on you again first. The world lurched with the use of his hiraishin seal, and a moment later he was in your room.

The first rays of dawn filtered in already, drenching the wooden hospital furniture in red hues once more. Low rustles were coming from your bed. Tobirama stepped over swiftly to find you stirring under the sheet irregularly, your head tilting from side to side. Briefly, he wondered if you were having a nightmare - but your eyes were open.

And recognizing him. “Tobirama,” you breathed, surprised.

“What’s wrong, Y/n?”, he inquired, wasting no time to step closer even, the worry already growing.

“Just … trying to get more comfortable,” you whispered, attempting a weak smile. “Looks like my strength returned a little bit more.”

He frowned slightly. “Don’t force it.” He couldn’t have prevented the sternness from seeping into his voice if he wanted to.

You sighed. “No,” a light shake of your head, “Just help me get on my side. Please?”, you extended your left hand for him to take, which he did with a small sigh. At least that way you wouldn’t try to do it yourself. And while he was extremely adamant, as Hashirama had eloquently put it, about your rest, it still tormented him to see you lacked the strength to turn on your side by yourself. Of course he knew it was common for patients in your condition - but this was you. He placed his right hand around where your hip and the small of your back would be under the blanket after his left had grasped your hand and pulled you towards him very slowly and gently so you tilted onto your side. You groaned a little, but sighed once you had adjusted to your new position.

“Thank you,” you hushed, meekly almost. The lack of strength was just as obvious to you. Tobirama took his seat at your side again and shook his head dismissively.

“Of course.” He still frowned, though. “How are you feeling?”

You closed your eyes and sighed again. “It’s… starting again. I can feel it. I’m feeling dizzy and… weaker.” Your voice shook from a slight tremble. Fear, Tobirama concluded.

He clenched his teeth and breathed through the tight feeling in his chest. “Y/n, we don’t need to stretch the interval as much-,”

“No,” you interjected firmly, eyes snapping open, giving him a sharp look. “We do. You know it. I know it.”

Now was Tobirama’s turn to close his eyes. “I don’t want you to suffer,” he whispered, his baritone voice near breaking again just from uttering these words and yet firm all the same. The tight feeling became worse

“I know,” you replied, haunted. “I know.” Your gaze was sorrowful. Knowing. Tobirama leaned forward to grasp your hand again and enclose it in his, letting his chakra coat your networks in the familiar, warm way. He didn’t know what else to do for your comfort. “Thank you,” you muttered again, forming yet another weak smile.

His head hung low as he simply basked in feeling you like this. The small nudge you were giving his sensitive network made him gasp slightly.

The moment was interrupted by the door swinging open. Tobirama’s head shot up to find his brother standing in the doorway. Looking more rested than he himself did, most likely. When he had reapplied his face paint after washing himself, there definitely had been dark rings under his eyes.

“Good morning,” Hashirama announced warmly, rounding the bed to stand beside Tobirama when he realised you were on your right side. “How are you?”

As you explained your condition to him, Tobirama gently grazed over your chakra network once more before drawing back slowly to free your hand. He’d be on his way soon, anyway.

Hashirama nodded. “Very well. I singled out a few medications that should help us stabilize you, as I mentioned. It’d be best to take them while you’re still, ah, responsive.”

“You mean when I’m not spitting it back at you?”, you deadpanned. Tobirama near froze at the image. All he could think of was how his hand had forced your mouth open, then poured the torture drug in and forcefully constricted your airway to make you swallow it.

Hashirama cleared his throat. “Well, you haven’t managed that so far.” Tobirama snorted in quite a cynical way then, earning him an arched eyebrow from you. Hashirama shot each of you a meaningful glance before continuing slowly. “Still..., it might be necessary to draw additional seals to release the medications transdermally.”

Tobirama’s head whipped to the side to stare at his brother. “That will aggravate the overload.”

Hashirama held up his hands defensively already. “The seals I have in mind for this purpose only add very, very little of the user’s chakra to the patient.” Tobirama wasn’t quite convinced yet as his scowl indicated. But then forcing things down your throat wasn’t gentle, either.

“And we’re also going to modify your nutrition, accommodating for the duress you find yourself in,” he added softly, but no less serious.

That made you snort now, but in a disgusted way. “Oh, I know what that’s going to taste like.” Every shinobi in the field on long missions knew that, in fact.

Tobirama wasn’t having any of it though. Already, he became riled up. “Y/n, we're not going to discuss-”

“I know, I know,” you already deflected exasperatedly, waving your free hand to calm him down. He leaned back in his chair then and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright. Now that that’s out of the way,” Hashirama sighed, stepping closer to you. “May I?”, he extended his hand to take yours.

That was Tobirama’s clue. He wasn’t of any use here right now. He leaned closer to you yet again, expression mellowing. “I’ll be back soon, Y/n,” he promised for the lack of a better phrase. Anything else - anything mundane like ‘take care’ - just seemed wrong at this point. You nodded, trying another brave smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Tobirama hoped his did.

He left the hospital to head straight for the interrogation and information headquarters, then, after having picked up his latest experiment with him.

It was already bustling with activity despite the early hour. Perhaps another mission finished. He didn’t dwell on it, really. Instead he headed to where he knew to find Ikuro; nodding towards the few familiar faces he made out. Apparently news about his task had made the round since nobody stopped him on his was through the small corridors past various offices. For a group that was euphemistically described as ‘interrogators’, everything seemed awfully quiet here. The walls must be thick.

Ikuro indeed was behind the desk in the sparsely decorated office that adjourned the cell block holding the six prisoners. He greeted Tobirama with the oddly warm smile and a nod. “Back again,” his voice was quiet, deceptively soft.

“Back again.” Tobirama repeated, raising an eyebrow. Exchanging pleasantries was something he really had no time for - given his - your - predicament. Any waste of time felt like a crime at this point. And then again, he never liked chitchat much. “Any news?”

Ikuro shook his head. “Not regarding your problem, I’m afraid, given we know Zenji is the only one to interrogate about that. I take it you made progress, however.”

That was unsurprising. Despite all that happened, it had only been a day. A single day. “Something to test out, yes.”

Ikuro’s smile spread slightly. Tobirama wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but quickly decided he didn’t care enough to form an opinion just yet. “There is one question though,” his smile faded. Tobirama frowned. “Now that we know Zenji is the only one who knows how to make the leash, do you want to use it on him again? I know we did the last time, however, if we permanently injure him…” He trailed off, but Tobirama well caught the implication.

He crossed his arms then. A fair point that he hadn’t considered yet. Since there were six prisoners in total, he had more than enough test subjects to choose from. But picking Zenji had the additional possible merit of gleaning more information about the leash during the interrogation, at the cost of, well, risking him. It all boiled down to whether Tobirama was confident enough in his work to not harm a person permanently, or not.

He hated it. But, “The substance I brought with me today will be more aggressive than the one I used last time. So, no. Let’s pick someone else. If it works well, we’ll focus on him again.” He was set on giving that man hell until he gave up his secrets. Or Tobirama had figured it out himself. Either way.

Ikuro nodded then. “Alright. We’ll pay a visit to Kimi.” The smile was back again.

Tobirama instead scowled, his tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Why do I get the fleeting notion that is the loony one from the far end?”

Ikuro bellowed a sudden laugh that startled him, both eyebrows rising. He wouldn’t figure this man’s humour out, really. “You are as perceptive as they say, Tobirama.” Then he rose to full size and Tobirama followed with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. The walk down the cell block was accompanied by the well-known feeling of eyes on him. Not that Tobirama cared for those, either. Except for one pair.

Zenji’s. His scarlet eyes darted to the side when they passed the middle cell. Tobirama was satisfied to find his black-bruised jaw was swollen. The look the man gave him was nothing short of hateful. He never broke his stride and followed Ikuro, surprised Zenji didn’t holler anything after him. Perhaps the jaw just hurt too much, hm.

Finally they reached Kimi’s cell. Like all the others, she also was chained up and sealed away. Her gaze seemed empty, staring a hole into the ceiling. That would soon change, Tobirama knew. Ikuro unlocked the cell. “Kimi,” he greeted warmly, like she was a friend.

“Go fuck yourself,” she shot back instantly but perfectly nonchalant. Tobirama’s eyebrows shot up. So much for friends. Her blue eyes locked with Tobirama’s. “Oh,” suddenly, her tone was infused with a shrill kind of adoration. “A high visitor!” Tobirama had to refuse the urge to cover his ears. “Tell me, tell me,” she chanted, swinging back and forth in the chains that held her. “How’s Y/n, how is she? Mhm?”, she exposed surprisingly bright teeth in a grotesque smile.

Tobirama didn’t even find her worth talking to; he could only roll his eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Enemies like this he knew to take serious - erratic behaviour covered up some of the most impressive techniques. But this wasn’t a fight. And he wasn’t about to try and converse with the likes of her. Not even in a cynical banter. He gazed at Ikuro. “Shall we?”

Kimi moaned loudly. “Awh, come on!”, it was an obscenely wanton sound. “Gimme a shred, please, please, please? I’m missing Y/n so, so much!”

Tobirama started to wonder if he had to break another jaw here. The ire that started to burn in his veins again surely provided enough fuel. His head tilted forward slightly as his stare narrowed, darkening.

Ikuro was already next to Kimi, shaking his head. He must’ve guessed at Tobirama’s thoughts - not that his body language wasn't enough of a giveaway.

Kimi wasn’t helping her situation. “Tobirama Senju doesn’t find me worth talking tooo!”, she screamed then in a most offended way, loud enough for probably everyone in this building to hear. Not that she was wrong in any way. This woman would be better off without her vocal chords.

“Kimi,” Ikuro began, still sugary sweet. “You’re going to help us a little.” His hand seized the back of her head already, grasping her brown hair firmly.

She stiffened immediately, but the smile that spread over her lips now was nothing short of malicious. Typical, Tobirama figured - completely mad behaviour, but far from idiotic. “Oh.” It was a sharp sound. “My turn to get your itty-bitty-wannabe-leash?”

Tobirama’s mien remained completely impassive. “Are you going to open your mouth or are we going to have to force you, like your compatriot?”, entirely unfazed by threatening her with violence.

Not that she was fazed, either. And smart enough to know better than to put up a fight now. “I always wanted to taste the stuff, mhm,” she tried to nod her head, but Ikuro’s grip was iron already. “No need to break my jaw like dumb Zenji’s. Show me what y’got, Tobirama Senju, show me,” she then moaned again, lasciviously almost.

Tobirama’s lips drew into a disgusted scowl. “Good grief, how do you work with these people,” he scoffed. Ikuro was grinning widely. “I should’ve picked Zenji,” he added almost inaudibly. Kimi opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out, licking over her lower lip in distasteful ways. Still, he didn’t trust her for one second. And the contents of this vial were too precious for this maniac to spit back at him, which he was sure she would. His free hand seized her jaw tightly so that if she bit down, she’d seriously injure her cheeks. Kimi already spluttered. The moment Tobirama felt she wanted to speak more, he simply applied more pressure. He had enough of this nutcase.

Swiftly, he poured the contents of his vial into her mouth and in a well practiced move pressed down harshly on her nose and mouth to force her to swallow. Her eyes became glassy - luckily, he had been wise enough to keep her mouth shut, because he was perfectly sure she’d have licked his hand or done something equally disgusting had he not.

Not that much was needed. Obediently, she swallowed.

Followed by a shrill scream. Tobirama’s patience was a candle that burned on both ends at this point. He didn’t even put it past Kimi that this was precisely what she was aiming for but by all that he believed in, it worked. The woman let out a heavy tirade of sexually loaded metaphors about what she was seeing and feeling that might have turned a more innocent person bright red on the spot.

It elicited nothing but fast growing annoyance out of Tobirama, however. And Ikuro was grinning as he closed his eyes. He gave him a dark glare. The man had known, for sure. This better yielded good results. When he reached for her throat to examine her, his hand grasped so tightly Kimi’s voice got stuck in its tracks and all that remained was a small rivulet of obscenities at Ikuro, who had begun to invade her mind again. Squeaks, no more.

Much more bearable.

Now to examine her. He made no effort to be gentle about this whatsoever. Ikuro’s work was marvellous as before. Unsurprisingly, Kimi’s mental defense was nothing short of impressive. Perhaps Tobirama was imagining it, but Ikuro’s methods seemed different here - more brutal. More smothering. Akin to what he had done to Akio - less thought to the risk he was running. Was Ikuro himself fed up with her? The thought darkly amused Tobirama.

Kimi stayed completely stable throughout the whole procedure. Her chakra flow was almost as muted as yours was after indigestion of the leash, however it picked up again during the session. Tobirama had expected it, but with the additional experience in the whole weaving process, it gave him clues on how to improve on that. Briefly he stopped monitoring her to take a blood sample. Not an easy task as there was no patch of skin exposed save for her neck and head, so he had to go for the jugular artery as the veins would be collapsed. It bore a slight risk - but none that Tobirama even cared about. Unceremoniously he stabbed the needle in where he felt the pulse after having released his choke hold on her throat - an opportunity she used to gargle out profanities at both him and Ikuro, but the mental assault heavily impaired her ability to form coherent sentences. What was coherent by her standards anyway, Tobirama figured. After he had gotten what he needed from her neck, he continued to monitor her. The half-frozen state of her chakra remained steady for a while before it dropped more.

Ikuro began to retreat then, slowly.

“Wait,” Tobirama instructed. His presence lingered then, still keeping Kimi in a mental choking hold.

As her chakra became less and less mute, the disruption kicked in more. And with it, for the first time there seemed to be genuine distress in the prisoner, indicated not by crude insults, but a genuine groan of pain.

“Interesting,” Tobirama muttered, smugly, almost. Kimi whimpered while Tobirama took time to thoroughly investigate how her chakra tried to repel his disruption, over and over again - and each time, the reaction became worse for it, accompanied by a never ending stream of pained expressions. Watching the agony unfolding inside of her.

He felt no satisfaction, no. But he was pleased. A success, finally.

After a while of monitoring, he took another blood example. Ikuro was frowning now. “I’m not sure how much more she’ll take, mentally,” he announced.

“Well, physically, she’s well off. I won't say anything about her mental state, that has been debatable to begin with," Tobirama grunted. This was nothing compared to what you went through. The plight they ultimately had put you in.

Ikuro withdrew then, but Tobirama had to stay. After all, the disruption first had to fade at some point. He knew it would - this wasn’t the leash, yet . But it was the right way. Slowly, Kimi’s body started to clear out the disruptive components alongside her chakra - another fascinating realisation that was different to when he had examined you. In you, the leash stuck - no matter how much your unmuted chakra and body battled it, it just kept on disruption and repelling it, thus causing the detrimental health effects. But Kimi’s cleared Tobirama’s out.

He withdrew then. Ikuro raised an expectant eyebrow. “She will be fine,” Tobirama announced, turning on his heels to leave the cell. He had new material to work with.

Ikuro followed swiftly after locking the cell containing the now limp Kimi.

The glare Zenji gave Tobirama now was decidedly murderous. Tobirama grinned back, darkly. Arrogantly. Zenji might as well know he was on their heels. His threats have not been empty. He almost had passed the cell, when Zenji’s strained voice echoed through the cell block: “Four more days, Tobirama fucking Senju,” the pain was obvious. Good. Nobody had healed the fracture, then. “Don’t think for a second you’re anywhere near perfection yet! Y/n’s gonna die so fucking miserably!”

Tobirama kept on walking, ignoring the new flare of ire in his veins. The urge to turn on his heels and break his jaw in new ways. Hell, rearrange his damned face. No, Zenji was beneath him he kept telling himself as he ground his teeth so hard his own jaws hurt. Back in the office, Ikuro closed the door. “I’m impressed, Tobirama.” His gaze was appreciative. For a split second, he believed this to be about reigning his temper in and was about to reply in a most impolite way to such a condescending remark, but he quickly realised this was not the case.

“Thanks.” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. The praise for his work was hollow when he reminded himself why he was doing this - and that it was far from perfect yet. “I’ll be back soon. I trust you didn’t learn anything pertaining to my task?”, not that he thought so, but he had to ask anyway.

“Sadly, no. It was a fruitful session, especially considering it was Kimi, but it seems Zenji’s slip up was not a false lead. She really does not seem to know about the leash’s creation.” Then, he frowned. “But, she adamantly guarded anything relating to the leash. Perhaps there is more to glean from her.

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Well, then we know to build up more pressure.”

Ikuro nodded, surprisingly somber now. “Indeed. I’ll inform you if anything from the other prisoners might come up.”

Tobirama bowed slightly. “Thank you.” Ikuro was a good man to work with.

A second later, the world lurched and the hiraishin seal transported him back to your room, where the little victory he celebrated dissipated swiftly.

The mood was dreary - and the innate hum he felt due to his sensory skills had picked up from the last time. It could only mean one thing. By now it was high noon and the sun’s light reflected off of the room’s pale furniture. Hashirama’s back was turned to him but the blanket was pushed aside - revealing your marred legs. On them, more seals, which he couldn’t make out precisely at this distance. Instantly, Tobirama rounded your bed swiftly, to find Hashirama working on the heart seal. Still, he couldn’t help but gasp when he saw your whole form revealed like this: a shadow of your former self and almost no part of you that didn’t bear a barely healing mark of torture. It didn’t deter him from analysing the situation, but it’d never fail to drive a proverbial blade through his heart.

Your breaths were quick and shallow again and Tobirama was sure to hear a rumble in there. Not good. Your lung was affected. Combined with the fact your body definitely was paler than before and the sheen of sweat that covered your skin, the situation was obvious. You didn’t move - and in your face, the grimace of pain was etched into your skin.

It was worse than before. And they hadn’t stretched the interval as much as before, yet.

Hashirama’s gaze swept up to him when he had finished what Tobirama guessed was strengthening the seal that supported your heart. His mien was grave. “We can’t wait much longer.” He gave Tobirama a quick rundown of what had happened: the withdrawal had kicked in again as before, but the symptoms developed faster, and more severe. As he had guessed, your lung was starting to suffer damage not just on the slight, microscopic level Tobirama had witnessed during the first stretch but in a greater margin. Your cardiovascular system required more support as your heart struggled, too. He still hadn’t intervened directly, yet.

Tobirama swallowed finally and nodded and nodded. Then, he looked down on your legs. Each bore another seal meant for transdermal release of the agents the seal in the middle was soaked in. “You drew more seals?” he inquired, terse again.

“We had to,” Hashirama explained, his hand back on your arm and his eyes closed. “Her lucid intervals are too short to ensure her taking the medication by herself. This is more effective and safer.”

“Safer?”, Tobirama shot back, sternly. “There are six seals on her now. Which means we barely have any room for additional chakra based options, if any, without overloading her.”

Hashirama clicked his tongue. “I am well aware, Tobirama,” a slight hint of strain had snuck into his voice now. But instead of angering him, it did the opposite - Tobirama realised how serious your condition was for his brother to even let a sliver of exasperation slip into his tone. And besides. He didn’t say any more.

All they were doing here - it was all dangerous. Too dangerous. They were running into dead ends, either way - be it the leash or the withdrawal of it. And to make you suffer, for a few precious hours? Tobirama swallowed hard against the shortness of breath that gripped this thorax tightly suddenly. “Anjia, I don’t think we should continue. Y/n is suffering and I -,” he swallowed again as his scarlet gaze swept to your face and the hurt in his heart was near unbearable again, “I cannot condone this.”

Hashirama’s eyes flew open and he gave Tobirama a deep frown. “She doesn’t want us to stop. So don’t.”

His gaze wandered to his brother, frowning himself now. “If she dies from the withdrawal, then it was pointless,” he nearly growled, voice stern again, if just to cover up for the gaping hole that the ache was boring into his chest in a most agonizing way.

“She’s not dying. Have more faith in me, Tobirama - and most importantly, her,” he gazed back at you then, voice becoming softer, fonder. Tobirama would never fail to be amazed by his brother’s optimism.

In a very sarcastic way.

“I’m not doubting you or her, anija,” and the sheer notion of him doing so did well enough to distract him from the terrible heartache simply for how furious it made him, “What I am doubting is what we’re up against - effects of something I haven’t fully understood yet or been able to recreate!”

Hashirama took a sharp breath. “On the other hand, we can evaluate her condition, react accordingly and adjust the figurative sails. We will not run a risk. You said so yourself. That, we do know.”

Tobirama looked back on your tormented form. Then he closed his eyes slowly. He hated it - he hated all of this - but he knew, deep down, he knew it - they’d need to continue down the path they had chosen. All of this - it would end soon. Either way. All he could do was to ensure it ended favourably, swiftly. And for as long as it lasted he’d need to remind himself of the promise he had made to you. No matter what. If Hashirama found your condition stable enough to continue - he’d trust him. He had no other choice but to.

“How much longer until the next dose?”, Tobirama asked then, the numb feeling spreading again. He welcomed it. The numbness muted all of the grief, of the ache. His focus returned.

“Not much. Might as well prepare it.” Hashirama instructed, politely refraining from commenting on Tobirama’s falter further.

He nodded and made for doing just that. Not twenty minutes later, they administered it - again, you were stirring from the force with which Tobirama had to pry your mouth open to pour the hated liquid in. The pained way in which you groaned echoed quietly in the sparsely furnitured room as he focused on not spilling a drop while gripping your jaw with vice strength again and holding it open. Uttering apologies he knew you couldn’t hear but he made nonetheless. After he made you swallow it you stilled again.

It had whatever brief respite - if it could’ve been called that - they had gained by stretching the intervals and thus making for more time null. Impressively, it had been shown you paid the price in proverbial blood and if it continued, literal blood might follow.

Tobirama’s only rest would be when he literally crashed, now.

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

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derangedroyalfae · 3 years

Text

Sunday, April 18, 2021 - 10:00pm

{mostly taken from a conversation with my best friend, Jem - there were some bits that I thought were worded well}

Royal (2:26 PM): Sometimes I think about taking antidepressants again if only to numb the pain. And then I remember how it made me too numb and to everything, so then I think about drinking or doing edibles, but then it still sounds awful and could possibly amplify those feelings (as alcohol usually does make me feel more upset). And that’s sometimes why self-harm becomes a substitute, because it ether distracts from those feelings or even makes you feel like your receiving punishment for whatever you’re upset about. But I know self-harm turns into a loop of guilt and shame and worrying about worrying others.

Jem (2:27 PM): I haven't heard the same about edibles that I hear about alcohol

Or marijuana in general I suppose

Royal (2:28 PM): Weed scares me. Like I’m worried I’ll have a reaction because whenever people smoke or cook it around me, I get super sick feeling. I also know Kitty had a bad reaction to edibles, like gave her ultra anxiety and hallucinations or something like that.

Jem (2:29 PM): Ah, gotcha I myself am allergic so I can't say I've tried it myself either

Royal (2:29 PM): I think I might be allergic and I don’t wanna find out the hard way

When people smoke/cook it around me, I get nauseous and a headache

Jem (2:32 PM): Yeah, I used to have two roommates that both smoked weed in our tiny apartment I used to have near constant headache until I moved out the next year

Royal (2:33 PM): I wish I could just remove those negative feelings I have: anger, sadness, jealousy, dysphoria, etc Put them somewhere far away so I wouldn’t have to deal with them, and wouldn’t have to hurt others because of them

(I tend to use dysphoria for myself as an in general term, not just with gender dysphoria, btw)

Jem (2:34 PM): Aah, yeah, I get you

Royal (2:38 PM): But even though I’m scared I’ll have a bad reaction, I’m mighty tempted to ask Hummingbird if I can try one of her edible gummies rn...

Jem (2:41 PM): I wonder if there's a way to try it in a safe/monitored way

Royal (2:41 PM): Well, if I do just one gummy

With their supervision

So if I have a bad reaction, they can watch over me or drive me to the urgent care

I love how it’s called urgent care but usually has like an hour or longer wait

Jem (2:43 PM): Ah yeah, that'd be the best way to do it Keep the phone handy too

Royal (2:45 PM): Hey, at the very least, doesn’t look like it has any interactions with my cholesterol medication

Jem (2:46 PM): That's good to know

Royal (2:50 PM): I don’t think I’ll actually follow through with it or anything, just my mind thinking of solutions

I’m feeling calmer now anyway

For now

{And then proceeded to draw this (it’s an idea I’ve had this idea for a long time now, especially since the first time I experienced extreme jealousy with Capy, but never had the courage to follow through since I’ve never done inking and rarely traditional colour, but I finally worked up the motivation to try, and honestly, it’s perfect timing as it was therapeutic to draw)}:

Royal (8:09 PM): Random question, I’m curious your thoughts on this: do you think it’s insensitive to joke about getting with other people when you’re in a relationship, especially/at least in front of your partner (at least if the two of you haven’t established a non-monogamous relationship), and even more so if you know your partner is dealing with jealousy issues?

Jem (8:12 PM): I’d think so, yeah

It's definitely odd

Unless it's like, I donno, a celebrity or something

But even then, it'd make me wonder why someone would say that if they knew already their partner was having issues

Royal (8:12 PM): Like someone they know/knew or met in the past, but 100% out of the picture now

So it’s def not a celeb

Jem (8:14 PM): Yeah then even without the jealousy issues, unless that's some sort of pre-established shared humor, it's kinda weird

Royal (8:15 PM): K, I was curious what you’d think

I agree with that too, it just feels really insensitive, at least if you’re monogamous

{Whilst I never told Jem what it was about, it has to do with something similar that had happened earlier today - though I am not technically in a monogamous relationship, so the above can’t fully apply to me. But to explain this better, I’ll have to jump back to something that happened in December 2020.

Capybara had told me about how there was this really attractive lecturer he met in the past whom if I remember correctly, spoke Greek, so his friend got him a Greek dictionary to help him try to impress her, but he never really ran into her again. I had made a comment that you know, guess it worked out for the better because then we would have never become a thing should he have actually succeeded in getting with her. And he made a joke that wasn’t the case or a joke that brushed off what I said as almost nothing. I knew he was joking, but it was kinda a really emotional time for everyone and I’m still even to this day working through my newfound romantic/sexual jealousy issues, so I took it kinda harsh at first and then eventually told him that same night how that kinda made me feel shitty.

Well, today, we were gaming with one of his friends (super great, hardworking, and nice lad) that we often play Sea of Thieves with and it turns out that was the same friend who got him the Greek dictionary, so it somehow got brought up in conversation…and just…they were joking that Capybara was Odysseus and this other woman was Odysseus’s wife and they’d find each other again one day. I can’t remember which character they assigned the friend but they were saying I could be one of the gods, and I’ll be honest, didn’t handle that situation the best, so I made a off hand comment of something like, “Guess I can be Athena or Aphrodite since they’re the jealous types, guess that works pretty well.” Don’t know if they picked up the hint. I don’t know if they were at all thinking about how this was something awkward for me, cuz I’m pretty sure the friend is aware that I’m dating Capy and is supposed to assume we’re monogamous as Capybara doesn’t really feel comfortable letting his friends or family know I have other partners. It just also happened to be a sore topic for me, cuz when Capy made that joke, even though I knew it was nothing more than a joke, it made me feel like nothing and replaceable, which I already see myself as.

Just to kinda let Capybara know that I’d prefer the topic to be dropped, I messaged him privately: “So I just remembered, it was you talking about that Greek dictionary thing to impress that girl and making a joke that like, meeting me wasn’t for the better cuz she’s still out there that kinda made me feel like shit even though it was a joke”

To which he responded with: “she's a lecturer my dude 😂 she's like in her 40's - don't worry”

And I replied with: “No I know, but it was more of the joke that followed that rubbed me wrong. At the time”

And he just sent these two emoji’s in response: 😧 😕

Immediately after our messages, as we had still been playing, he went dead silent and so I noticed this (not sure if the friend did at first) and I at first just tried to silently apologize in DM, cuz I hadn’t meant to upset him, but he still remained silent. So shortly after, I asked if we should call it quits even though it was early. I felt so guilty and I immediately sent him more apology messages and even an apology voice memo, but I assumed he turned his phone off by that point.

Once again, my jealousy got the best of me and I hurt the person I love most in the world and made a fun time involving friends go awkward. I was having a good early afternoon/late morning with him at first, and then I ruined it because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and my jealousy under control. I’m such an asshole.}

Royal (8:22 PM): Off topic, but still on the issue of jealousy, I feel like when I have jealousy issues myself at the point I’m at, it’s like a double headed snake due to me being in a polyamorous relationship - one head are just the pre-established toxic/venomous things that come with jealousy and the other head is the guilt and shame of feeling I have no right to be jealous when I have two other partners myself thus making me feel hypocritical (and being ignorant of any potential jealousy from other partners)

It feels like those two snake heads could eat me alive with just a few bites each if I let them in

It’s such a viscous cycle and honestly, the basic head of jealousy is enough of a problem that turns my stomach, but the second head just makes me want to surrender to the earth

Jem (8:28 PM): I get you It's a lot

Emotions are hard

Royal (8:28 PM): Especially when they revolve around something or someone you already have such an emotional attachment with

And then those feelings, like feelings of jealousy, only end up making you hurt the ones you love

Making them feel guilty or annoyed or like you don’t trust them or something

Jem (8:31 PM): Tbh, as someone who generally struggles with a lot of jealousy type issues, I get that (not necessarily romantic jealousy even, but just there's undercurrents of it that are always there and present in every relationship)

I don't think it's something that can ever be fully dealt with and just I guess has to be accepted and worked around At least for me

Royal (8:33 PM): And it makes you wonder if you truly care for those if you’re so easily jealous of them, since they tell you that shouldn’t feel that way if you really love someone, that you should be able to love them blindly and trust them, and it’s not like I don’t trust, but I feel so easily discardable by those who I could never even fathom of turning my back on

Royal (8:34 PM): Honestly, I’ve even felt some jealousy toward you in the past - not romantically - but it was something I worked on

Jem (8:34 PM): What if I were to say same though haha

Royal (8:34 PM): You seemed to be doing so well with you VN and you picked up art so fast

Jem (8:35): Aah for me it's always revolving around

My need for attention tbh

Royal (8:35 PM): But I told myself, “you just need to keep trying. Feeling negatively toward someone success is selfish and gets you nowhere. Improve yourself and you can also feel that success. He’s not succeeding to hurt you in anyway - you should be happy for him.”

Or like, probably not those exact words, but ya know, that idea

Royal (8:36 PM): Yeah, I understand that too, especially growing up in a family of 6

That kinda happened the other day with Kitty (whom at this point my feelings are pretty platonic) - for over a week now I’ve been telling the girls about a game (For the King) I’ve been interested in playing with them, and the other day, Hummingbird went on a social distancing date with Crystal, so I asked Kitty if she’d like to play with me since it’d be just the two of us and she agreed. However, she had a headache, so we thought it’d be best if she napped first and if she felt better later on then we could play. When she woke up, Lapis hit her up for some gaming and Kitty decided to game with her instead and forgot she agreed to game with me...

Jem (8:41 PM): Ah, that kinda thing really sticks with me

Royal (8:41 PM): And so I’m just getting to a point where I feel like I should just stop asking them if they wanna game with me, because it’s not the first time something like this has happened (at least they don’t follow through, not a matter of them deciding to do something with someone else)

Like, I made the Murder Beans server so Capybara and Kitty (and Hummingbird if she ever decided to get Among Us) could game with my friends in the CSR Creations server, and that was back in fall...the girls never joined a game even when showing express interest and saying they would

Kitty also once went and bought Lapis like the whole Halo Master Chief Collection for Lapis cuz she was broke and wanted it, and the proceeded to play it with her and Hummingbird...and like...I also would have liked to have played Halo with them if given the opportunity, but I was never asked

Sheezus, don’t even get me started in my family and how invisible they made me feel

But yeah, I’m at a point with the girls that I don’t think it’s even worth bothering to ask anymore, at least about gaming

Hummingbird’s confusion and migraines are also coming back, so she has a legit medical excuse and I can’t really bother her about it

Jem (8:48 PM): I get you, yeah

All of those things would really bother me too They have in the past

I remember when I first joined UCSD, I started hanging out often with the girls that lived around me in the dorms And we all started watching Orphan Black together

And then I literally had no idea when they finished the show because after the first couple sessions they forgot to invite me

Royal (8:51 PM): Oof, yeah, that’d bother me too, or at least tell me how they felt about me in my mind

I don’t think with my jealousy, it’s a matter of not trusting my partner or friends or whomever, it’s just a matter of feeling such low self-worth that I feel easy to discard, and when I get brushed to the side or have someone joking along the lines as how dating me wasn’t for the better when someone else is out there, it furthers those feelings I have about myself, those feelings of self-worth and how I’m replaceable or not worth shit

Jem (8:54 PM): I get you I know mine stems from feeling forgettable

Royal (8:54 PM): I know I’m an annoying person, I know I can be a lot and emotionally draining, I know I can be hypersensitive - so I know it feels like it’d be better to be rid of that sort of force if you can find someone better who doesn’t make you feel the way I’d do

(In response to feeling forgettable) Yeah

If you remove the fun hair, piercings, and tattoo, I’m actually quite a boring person

And I’m quite isolated. If you don’t include my partners, there’s only really two people who come to mind that I’d consider close friends that I can talk to: you and someone else (you’ve never met her)

I’m getting to a point where I have a hard time talking to the girls due to the guilt I feel about me more or less wanting to be platonic with them, and then Hummingbird is constantly having a medical crisis and I’d feel bad burdening her further

So really, I’m isolated down to two people, primarily you, + Capybara, and yeah, that’s my own fault

I feel easily exhausted by my other options at this point, where I feel like I can only take Candy in small doses (which feels really hypocritical of me) and my other VA friends or gaming friends, I don’t know if I’m close enough to have those kinds of conversations with, especially the VA friends since I tend to be their boss

For the most part, the other people I’d sometimes talk about these issues with are on servers that are primarily dead, so it feels awkward to hop back in only to bitch about my life

Besides, I hate seeming like I’m only spewing forth toxicity and negative emotions over and over again

Which I worry I do too much with you as is

#mood journal #mood #depression #jealousy #envy #guilt #shame #polyamory #nonmonogamy #non monogamy #monogamy #love

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mikhalsarah · 4 years

Text

The Emperor’s New Gender

How can you help a 3-year-old to stop misgendering family friends who are transwomen? She isn't trying to insult them deliberately, but just doesn't perceive them as women and won't remember being corrected the next time she sees them. -Quora

First of all, as per further information in the comments, this is not your child and it is NOT your place to be interfering in how this family handles the issue unless they have specifically ASKED for your advice. This is something for the offended friends and the parents to work out, and if you value your friendships you will back out of what isn’t your problem. The entire fact that you feel entitled to force your personal beliefs on other people’s children and intervene in their parenting and other social relationships is extremely disturbing. I suggest you get a good book on Co-dependence recovery.

Secondly, this is an “Emperor’s New Clothes” problem. There is NOTHING “wrong” with this toddler (who at 3 is actually a preschooler), so there is nothing the parents can do about it. You can’t fix what isn’t broken. This reminds me of medieval parents getting the idea in their heads that crawling was too animalistic and ungodly, and strapping their children to little roundabouts to force them to skip crawling and go right to “proper human” walking. Crawling is developmentally necessary for most children and they rarely skip over it, and their lower leg bones and muscles are not yet ready to bear their full weight, leading to possible bow-leggedness. You cannot force children to skip developmental stages because it offends people based on some ideology they have. It has consequences. It is grown-ups here who must accept the natural development of children however inconvenient it is. This is called ACTING LIKE AN ADULT.

This is a normal stage of neurological development. At a certain point in the developing brain it starts to categorize things as a means to understand them. The ability to understand who is biologically male and producing sperm and who is biologically female and producing ova is self-evidently crucial to the survival of every species on the planet that has sexual reproduction. Even for species that can literally morph from one sex to the other, it is still crucial to recognize which members of their species are in which sexual form, and to have that skill locked well down before puberty hits. Therefore that ability is hard-wired into us, just like our ability to acquire language is. This child has reached a stage where they can now identify key markers of biological sex in people’s body shapes (hip to waist ratio, shoulder to hip ratio) and faces (relative size and placement of eyes, nose and philtrum lengths, chin length and width etc) but they have no idea yet what “gender” is as a concept because their brain is not mature enough to entertain a concept that still confuses many adults, apparently.

Children are notorious for mis-gendering everyone, not just trans people. I was mis-gendered by two preschoolers yesterday when I appeared at work in a skirt instead of my typical jeans. There was even a story decades back in Reader’s Digest illustrating how they mix up and conflate sex and gender roles. It was submitted by a parent who allowed their 4 year old to go to JK wearing his sister’s barrettes, only to have the teacher overhear him arguing with another boy about whether he was a boy or a girl. The boy eventually became exasperated and pulled down his pants to show the other boy his penis to prove he was a boy, to which the other boy dismissively said, “Everyone has a penis, only girls wear barrettes.”

Here I will suggest that you also need some good books on child development and evolutionary biology.

This situation would not have been a problem even a few years ago, before “transsexual” was turned into a dirty word and transgender was foisted on us, instead. Once upon a time you could just tell a child that:

A) not everyone who is male or female fits neatly into the typical or average appearance for their sex (or behaviour, for that matter)

B) some people who are born into one sex are unhappy about it for reasons we don’t yet understand. They feel strongly that they are the other sex internally (in their mind/brain) and are much happier if everyone just lets them live as the sex they feel inside as much as possible, and they can have hormones and surgery to help them do so. Since most of those people don’t fully understand themselves until past puberty, they develop outwardly like their biological sex and it can take a lot of time and money to change that.

and

C) It’s impolite and unkind to make personal remarks, or to draw attention to physical features or other differences which people have no control over.

We don’t yet fully understand the biological working of things like gender development, gender identity, or sexual orientations, but there is more than enough evidence that they are “real” events with correlates in the material world. We know that people with conditions that are known to affect the structure and function of their temporal lobes are much more likely to be GLB (including sudden shifts in their sexual orientation after events like head injuries, strokes and seizures) and much more likely to identify as trans or otherwise not conforming to the gender binary (including again, sudden changes to their sense of self-identity in the wake of neurological events). Obviously the majority of people who are LGBT haven’t had a head injury, stroke or seizure, so being LGBT is not “caused by” those things, they’re just some of many things that can “flip the switch”; genetics, pre-natal hormone exposure, birth order, and developmental life experiences have all been tentatively cited as having a role to play.

*People on both the Right and Woke Left will be determined to misunderstand me here as saying that being GLB or T is evidence of a “sickness” of some sort…either agreeing and using this information as “proof” that it’s so or becoming angry at me for equating the two. So let’s just head off that nonsense at Go. ALL MANNER of changes can happen in the wake of neurological events in the temporal lobe or elsewhere. One man who had a head injury suddenly became a mathematical genius…do you think that’s evidence that being good at math is a “sickness”? One person finds they become more emotional, another less so (neither is a pathology unless taken to extremes that prevent the person functioning). Some people who develop Temporal Lobe Epilepsy suddenly take up writing or (less often) the visual arts. Is being a writer or artist a biological flaw? Obviously not. The linkage of any trait with an area of the brain is not evidence that the trait is pathological (it might be, it might not), it is merely evidence that one or more neurological substrates that control that trait resides in that particular part of the brain. As regards gender identity, it tells us that there is some part of our brains where sexual self-identity arises and therefore the person’s experience may be subjective (only they experience it, others cannot perceive it unless told of it) but is not imaginary.

In the past children gradually acquired the ability for more complex categorization and learned to differentiate between someone’s biological sex, their gender presentation (how closely they match others of their sex), and societal gender roles. Children are remarkably accepting of diversity and exceptions to rules when they are presented matter-of-factly. More so than adults who apparently can’t accept facts which don’t fit with their ideologies on the Left, any more than Evangelical Young-Earth Creationists on the Right can, and feel the need to tie themselves into mindless, slogan-droning intellectual pretzels as a result.

The fact that we now view even toddlers with suspicion of “transphobia” and seek to indoctrinate their natural neurological development out of them should be a GIANT F*ING RED FLAG that we are NOT becoming more aware of diversity and more accepting, we are becoming LESS able to see the full extent of how diverse humans really are and are being forced to pigeonhole them into categories that the average five year old is supposed to be outgrowing. What we are seeing is an extremely judgmental, rigid and abusive cult that denies an obvious reality that even a child can see, that biological sex is real and important, and cannot be replaced by or conflated with gender identity or roles, even if we also agree that gender presentation and gender identity are also important biological realities. It used to be only children who foolishly did so, but now we have adults telling children that everyone can have a penis and only girls wear barrettes.

In the original story of The Emperor’s New Clothes, the child’s lack of indoctrination into social hierarchies left them nonconformist, and free to state what they saw with their own eyes with impunity. The child was not punished because children are not expected to be politically correct. In fact, it led the adults to realize that they had let fear and desire to conform and be thought clever blind them to obvious reality. It is the adults in the end who feel foolish and ashamed, and change their ways. We’re not yet at the end of the story of The Emperor’s New Gender, but based on the current trajectory the “adults” are going to double-down and I will soon be looking for a new career, as I will be expected to throw away everything I know about child development so that daycares can be run like Orwellian indoctrination camps. I will not participate in the ideological and developmental abuse of children so that a tiny minority of adults can live in a fantasy world in which they deny an aspect of reality when it has the temerity not to give a shit about their ideology.

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rockshortage · 4 years

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*Cracks knuckles* Ow. Let's see, how about: A6, 16. B1, 12. C1, 2, 3, 5, 8. D4. E2, 3, 7. F2, 5, 10, 12 (Sorry, but also not sorry) I6. L1, 2, 4, and 9 :)

hoo boy that took a while

A6) Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”

Ah, he questions himself a lot. Maybe he wasn’t listening well enough because he was too distracted by being anxious? Maybe he misinterpreted this event, because his background knowledge on it was lacking, he doesn’t know the full story and opinions from all sides, he’s not sure he can form a well educated opinion on this--

A16) Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

Hector needs to do it himself for Science, because how else is he to truly know, if not from his own personal experience? Trusting what people tell you is good and all but gathering data yourself is better.

Unless we’re talking about raider politics, in which case there’s not really a good way for Hector to gather data without seriously endangering him and friends, so he’ll just listen to Gage.

B1) Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

Generally, he believes it’s necessary to give people respect before you can expect it in return. He learns that many people do not in fact think the same way. He’ll still want to extend basic courtesy to them even if they’re assholes, unless they disrespect/piss him off to the extremes, or if their actions threaten his position and in turn the well-being of himself and friends.

B12) Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?

Have a back and forth about it in his head – ah it’s not so bad it’s still fine, but then again he really wanted it differently… but he doesn’t wanna bother them and be entitled about it, but man… :( Might get close to pointing it out but chances are slim that he’ll actually get someone to correct the order. It’ll be disappointing but he’ll eat it.

C1) Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Eeeh, not a super strong one. His baseline are general societal morals and norms, like… help person good, kill person bad. Most of the time he’ll base his actions on what feels right for him and for his friends. He’ll consider: will doing this make me feel bad afterwards? Will it have a negative impact on other people, who don’t deserve it? Is that consequence worth it because it saves my own skin or helps/protects my friends?

C2) Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?

Bringing back the point about sacrificing for the greater good. He’d consider that the morally right thing to do because it impacts fewer people negatively. But making that sacrifice endangers his friends, whose lives for him personally are worth much more than an abstract crowd of people. So he chooses to not do the thing for the greater good and save his friends instead, and yes, he would feel very bad on the one hand, because oh boy. As far as most people are concerned, he did a horrible terrible thing and was extremely selfish and absolutely chose wrong. But on the plus side, and that’s a very big huge plus- he still has his friends. And still having his friends makes him feel less bad than how he would have felt if he didn’t have his friends anymore.

So uh… yes and no.

C3) Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?

More or less. He can’t hang out well with people he completely disagrees with in every way, of course that’s not going to work. But Hector is… how to say… kinda boring when it comes to ideals and opinions and all that stuff. He just doesn’t have very strong ones in general. Which can make him a little bland and potentially spineless, but also pretty agreeable. As long as they don’t constantly shove their great big opinions in his face, they’ll get along well enough.

C5) Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

I think I kind of answered this in C2. Basic morals do get thrown out the window if friends are threatened, or if he gets pissed off enough. He’d have to be really pissed off though. As well as being post having-grown-a-spine(-at-least-partially). Hurting people bad but being insufferable to Hector also bad so guess what fucker

C8) Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

Again a little tricky because I’m having trouble coming up with a scenario that would help me make up my mind with a definite answer. I’m leaning more towards a practical approach 1) because Hector is more of a realist/pessimist in general, 2) he doesn’t want to like… be overly demanding

D4) Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

The more he thinks about it the more meaningless life seems to get for someone like him. Solution: don’t think about it! Repress that shit because it’s not like you can do anything about it anyway. Also an involuntary solution but one that helps nonetheless: have shit memory so that you don’t feel like you’ve lived too many lifetimes.

If you were to ask him, the answer you get completely depends on the headspace he’s in at the moment. If he’s just vibing, going about his day and things are going well then yeah! Immortality isn’t so bad. If you catch him on an off day, things aren’t going so well, maybe he just thought about having to deal with losing his friends eventually… then you obviously get the opposite answer.

E2) Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

I know I talked about this before and I grouped them from strong to medium to weak but I can’t for the life of me find the post anymore (thanks tumblr for your useless garbage search and tagging features). So I can’t even check if I’m still on the same wavelength with past me :v

From strongest to weakest we have…

Logical-mathematical

Spatial

Linguistic

Bodily-kinesthetic

Musical

Naturalist

Interpersonal

Existential

Intrapersonal

E3) How many languages do they speak?

Three… and a half.

The half language being Swiss German, because I don’t know what the fuck it is even after graduating from language uni

The others: Standard German, English, and French, from strongest to weakest.

E7) Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Yes, yes, and yes. He’s very good at taking notes considering most of science is documentation. And even now when he’s not doing a lot of Formal Science things, he still writes in his journal almost daily, summing up events and making notes of important things. He gets nervous with tests with all the self doubt if he really prepared well enough and the unpredictability of the questions that will be asked, but once the pen is in his hand, he just blazes through it.

F2) What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

Someplace underground, safe and sturdy like a vault. Industrial aesthetic is welcome and he wants to have plenty of space, but it shouldn’t feel huge and empty. Needs to be homey, even if it might feel a little rustic to the average person. Having it built into a mountain would be sick, so he still has the perfect protection from the sun, but he doesn’t have to crawl out of a hole in the ground like some kind of worm – instead he opens the door and gets the most amazing view immediately.

… and I promise, only after writing the above did I remember that he pretty much lives in a mountain already, just a plastic one. Close enough.

F5) How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Quite handy indeed. He can fix most things, he usually just needs some time to (re-)familiarize himself with the object and its functions. A lot of it also involves trial and error, but he’ll figure it out eventually.

F10) Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?

He’d actually be really good at pen/pencil drawing, what with making technical illustrations and blueprints of Science Stuff, but it’s not a skill that’s applied in an artsy setting. When the goal is to draw for the sake of drawing, evoking emotion, or paint with a brush, that’s probably when shit would fall apart. I can’t remember who the artist was, but it reminds me of this little comic about Paladin Danse – in which he’s extremely good at technical drawings but then he attempts to draw a dog and it just looks…wrong.

Now with music, he’s more likely to engage in it in an artful way. He likes to sing, even if he very rarely does it now that he has people around him more often than not. Before, he’d just be alone in his lonely place and sing and scream to his heart’s content, but now he’s too awkward to do it, because someone might hear him. He is pretty good at it though, considering how much alone time he’s had to practice.

F12) Would they enjoy a theme park?

The rides and junk food? Yes absolutely. But the giant crowd and every little consequence it entails, nope, no thank you, he’ll just leave it be.

You bet he’s gonna go on the rides at nuka world though once they got them back up and working, because the crowd isn’t as big as pre-war and he’s the fucking overboss and can skip lines and restrict access to others however he damn pleases.

I6) Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

He can, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. The first month or so at nuka world he almost exclusively lives off of some shitty nutrient bars. In some scenarios, food just exists as sustenance and not as something to be enjoyed.

In a preferable scenario though, it is to be enjoyed. And I think while he would get bored of it after a while, it’d take longer than for the average person. And even then, he’s just happy he can eat something enjoyable at whatever pace he likes instead of having to scarf down Compressed Nutrient

L1) How have your characters changed since you created them?

He stopped existing in a void, which is a pretty damn big change. Now he has a whole world and other characters to interact with, that contribute to shaping and developing his personality.

L2) What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Oof, this is hard. Maybe… getting to know yourself? Accepting change, personal growth?

L4) Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

I’m actually not sure sjdfsdnsv

Like yes he is sweet bean who must be protected, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a weird little old man. I guess if we can just chill listening to music and he can go off about crustaceans or something and we speak The Horrible Language, why the fuck not

L9) How did you come up with your OC?

Masks cool. Me especially like gas masks. Unhinged science characters also cool. Make generic but still sliiiightly unique design and make it a point to not have him be a young pretty boy character despite having immortality. Add lots of weaknesses to compensate for the immortality. Add science personality things and complete the picture with projections of my own personality. Boom, you’ve got yourself the beginnings of a Hector

#hector messerli #i did not proofread please wish me luck from the future #corvidexoskeleton #ask meme #ask #hector ref

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years

Text

Reliving An Old Nightmare - Chapter 16

<= Chapter 15

Summary : Snatcher and Hat Kid's search for the Time Piece begins. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337299/chapters/57711178

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New chapter ! Since I was able to start writing the 19th chapter, which has been very hard to begin, I decided to post the 16th chapter. I hope you'll like it ! Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you did ! You have no idea how much it helps me writing !

Also, just wanted to announce that I commissioned something for the 18th chapter! And it's not a drawing. I sure wonder what it might be :)) I can't wait to post it with said chapter !

Happy reading !!

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Chapter 16

Just like Snatcher had expected, eating food even under his ghostly form was not an enjoyable experience. It was still better because he didn’t get to feel textures as much as when he was as a human. Though, the sense of touch still lingered a little bit. Normally, the ghost shouldn’t feel anything but, with the recent events… A lot of things had changed. Thus, when the little kid fed him a lot of stuff he knew nothing about, mostly sweets and junk food, the spirit had to resist the urge of throwing up from disgust. Gagging was something he never knew he could do as a ghost but, hey, you learn something new every day! Fortunately, the shade had managed to eat everything the kid had given him until he felt full enough. He still had no idea how being hungry was possible in his state, though it might very well be because of “Simeon”, just like the hat-wearing brat had explained it to him. Whatever that guy did with that Time Piece, it had changed the way Snatcher’s spectral body worked. And that was absolutely unacceptable for the shade, who loathed whoever or whatever was hiding behind Simeon’s identity. Yet, he couldn’t ignore how powerful they were, if they managed to create a whole dimension when even the alien kid could not.

Once the eating torture was over, he and the child started to elaborate a plan. While the kid would be able to track and locate the Time Piece while in the manor (thanks to her sixth sense he supposed), Snatcher would be the one leading them to it. The shade knew that breaking into the manor wouldn’t be easy with all the guards and servants watching the place. Fortunately, he knew the mansion enough to know how to avoid being found.

The kid took a few things with her, especially most of her hats, as well as her usual umbrella, just in case. It was best for them to be prepared, even more considering how dangerous their mission was. As soon as they were ready, the brat teleported them down again, in the backyard of the mansion. Unsurprisingly, the process was still extremely agonizing to the ghost, who felt his body change once again. He hated those sensations and hoped the return to the real dimension wasn’t going to be as uncomfortable.

As soon as they arrived in the rift, Snatcher couldn’t help but fall to the ground, nauseous. With his hand on his stomach, he had to take deep breaths in order not to throw up the food he had eaten earlier. He didn’t want to think about how illogical and stupid it was for it to have been “transferred” to his human body. How was that even possible? He wasn’t even sure the kid could answer his interrogations. Speaking of her, she ran to his side as soon as she noticed his malaise, visibly worried.

-“Snatcher!” stammered the child, lifting her hand to rub his back before hesitating and eventually stopping. She seemed to understand that the ghost didn’t want to be touched and she was right. The last thing the shade needed at the moment was another sensation his brain couldn’t deal with! He wasn’t sure he could remain focused on not throwing up if he had to feel another contact.

It was always weird to come back into this body because he had to feel all those things again, the clothes against his skin, the air filling his lungs, the saliva pilling up in his mouth… Compared to his short experience back in his original body, it was quite different and the change was always weird to handle, at least for a little while. Next to him, the kid remained silent, watching him carefully. If he had to be honest, Snatcher was quite relieved and thankful she was keeping her mouth shut, as her voice would be another unwanted distraction. In the meantime, the spirit continued to breathe calmly, doing his best to ignore the nausea, which was already dulling thanks to his effort, fortunately.

He finally took a look at his surroundings. They were in the back garden, behind a huge bush. The vegetation hid them from most of the guards’ eyes, which was a good thing, since the spirit still needed several minutes until he was able to stand up. The sun seemed to have set not long ago and the air was colder than before he left for the kid’s ship. He felt his body shudder from the chill, though it did help to reduce his nausea. It was dark outside, which helped them to fade into the background. Sure, he was the Prince and the guards normally wouldn’t do anything to him but… Vanessa and her accomplice might have asked them to take him back inside if they ever saw him out of his bedroom. Something like that wouldn’t surprise him. As for what they would do to the kid, on the other hand… He didn’t want to think about it now.

Little by little, he felt the unease go away and his mind clearing up with it.

-“Snatcher…?” insisted the little girl, seeing his malaise disappearing as well: “Sorry, you get used to it after a while…”

The shade had to think for a moment until he understood what the child was talking about: the teleportation process. God, how was she even able to feel so well after that? Well, he thought, maybe it was because he still wasn’t used to having organs yet. It was probably one of those things one could only get used to after more than a few days. Or, well, maybe it was just because the kid was an alien and their biology was simply too much different on the inside. That would explain quite a lot, if it was the case.

The ghost panted for a few seconds more and finally asked his ex-contractor about it:

-“How are you not sick every time you teleport? I feel like I’m going to puke…”

The small brat gave him a faint and sympathetic smile, a look that Snatcher definitely hated when it came to him:

-“Don’t worry, it was the same for me,” she replied, before trying to reassure him more: “I had a lot of training sessions with teleportation before I was even allowed to have my own ship, so I know how it’s like.”

She eventually changed her mind and started to rub the ghost’s back slowly. Snatcher didn’t feel much nauseous anymore and, contrary to what he believed, the contact actually helped him to feel better. She probably knew what to do with that kind of malaise, if what she said was true. Maybe she had had someone on her home planet to do the same for her. He still disliked the contact, but it was more out of pride rather than anything else.

After a while, the ghost felt better enough to stand up, still watched carefully by the girl’s blue eyes. He could tell she was still worried about him and, truth to be told, he wasn’t particularly reassured about his state either. The spirit took a final deep breath and straightened: it wasn’t the moment to think about that. They needed to move and get inside the mansion!

-“Time to get going, kiddo,” he said, decided.

-“Are you sure?” whispered back the kid, still visibly anxious: “We can wait a little more if-”

-“No, I’m fine,” retorted Snatcher darkly, not liking being pitied over: “We’re doing this now.”

The hat-wearing brat nodded, though she looked unconvinced. Snatcher scanned the area: the guards mostly stayed motionless, unless they heard something suspicious. Luckily, both he and the child had been discreet so far. However, they would need to be very careful when trying to get closer to the mansion: even if it was dark, it was still very much possible to perceive figures in the darkness. If these guards were just like the ones he used to know… They were pretty serious and dedicated to their job.

-“So, you’re still sure it’s in there?” questioned Snatcher, just to be sure. Next to him, the kid shifted, apparently ill-at-ease.

-“It is inside, but…” she started, gulping with difficulty: “It’s weird. I know it’s in there, I can feel it… But it feels like it’s not the same?”

-“What do you mean?” pressed the shade, not liking the look on her face and the way she played with her hands nervously.

-“Well, uh… I can feel my Time Pieces when they’re around, it’s like a basic instinct for me. But this time, its aura feels… Different,” explained the little girl.

-“Different how?”

The brat frowned, thinking for a while, as if she had trouble putting words over said feeling:

-“It’s like… Vaguer? I know it’s in there, I know which way it is… The thing is I can’t help but have a very bad feeling about this. It just feels different! I don’t know how I can explain it. It’s weird.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the unease intensified on her face. So there was a problem. Snatcher had trouble imagining the kid exaggerating it: after all, she was the time expert! Though, knowing how she felt about the object they were looking for… The spirit couldn’t help but feel wary at the thought. She was right. Even if he couldn’t sense anything, the ghost knew something was wrong.

-“You think it’s a trap?” he asked her, glowering as well. Wouldn’t it be too easy if they found the Time Piece inside? Wouldn’t it have been smarter to hide it somewhere in the village? It was a place he couldn’t go without drawing attention to himself… From what he gathered, no one seemed to be aware of the hatted child’s presence… So why would Vanessa and her accomplice hide the precious object exactly where he was? It was suspicious.

-“I don’t know…” answered the kid, grimacing: “I still feel it inside, so it’s definitely there… Though I have no idea where this weird sensation comes from.”

Snatcher remained silent and looked at the manor. They still had a countdown problem: if they didn’t try anything now, the rift would collapse, taking them with it in the process. The ghost didn’t want to know what it would feel like.

-“Well…” he paused, sighing: “Guess there is only one way to find out.”

The child nodded, however, her face showed that she was still anxious. He couldn’t blame her.

-“So… How are we going to break in?” then asked the hatted kid, still hesitant.

The question took Snatcher aback when it really shouldn’t have: the reason was that he had thought about it and he had come up with an option that was… Not ideal. Most of the doors were closed at night, and often guarded by at least two soldiers. But there was one door that wasn’t guarded: the trapdoor leading to the cellar. And Snatcher did not want to go through there, no matter how urgent the situation was. There was no way he would float or walk in there ever again, dead or alive! Just thinking about it was bringing him horrible memories of his last moments shackled to this wall, feeling the cold finally numbing the pain in his body… His bones had broken with his weight pulling him down and he only died hours after that. It had seemed like days, months, years, centuries to him… At the time, he had lost all hope of ever getting out and only waited for death to save him, to end this awful and terrible suffering both hurting his body and his heart. How could Vanessa have done this to him? After everything they had experienced together? It had taken him years to even consider that he wasn’t the faulty one and that maybe Vanessa was the problem.

And now he would have to relive all those memories again? Absolutely not.

-“Snatcher?” the little voice cut his thoughts short once again and he lowered his eyes to the small child, whose worried expression only intensified when she saw his expression. He couldn’t even imagine the face he was making at the moment. But he didn’t have to be extremely smart to see that the child quickly understood what was going on in his mind. Her face crumpled instantly and her teeth were clenched. The ghost couldn’t help but frown at the sight in front of him: she was pitying him, wasn’t she? Why? There was no reason to, it all belonged to the past now. Yet, some old wounds never fully healed…

He jumped silently when he felt the child’s little hands take his, squeezing them tight as her eyes were staring at him with compassion and concern. God, he loathed being looked at this way. The spirit’s reflex was to pull his hand away, not wanting to admit the contact had felt comforting, at least for a few seconds. Yeah, right! Yet, he couldn’t deny the tinge of guilt when he was rewarded with the child’s hurt look, though it was brief. The kid seemed to understand his need for personal space and took a step back, to Snatcher’s great relief. He didn’t need contact now. The ghost looked at his hands: he was shaking. His legs felt weak and his heart was beating fast inside his chest. Great. He realized that he had stopped breathing only when the kid started to talk again:

-“We… We don’t have to go through there. I’m sure there are plenty of ways we can enter the mansion!” assured the brat, trying to be reassuring. However, Snatcher knew better. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t some dumb child who needed comfort and sympathy, especially coming from her. This was not what he needed.

Snatcher scoffed and lifted his hands as he replied, with a voice full of sarcasm:

-“Oh yeah? And how else are we going to break in? There are guards everywhere!”

The child seemed offended at his retort but didn’t say anything back. She probably knew it wasn’t the right time to argue with him and she was right to think so. They often argued normally, but this was different and the girl knew it. She bit the bullet and only sighed, not answering back. Instead, her eyes scanned the mansion, looking for any way in. Snatcher imitated her, ready to take every possible risk if it meant he wouldn’t have to go in there again. Everything but this.

The shade could see his bedroom window from there, but it was way too high, and the door was closed on the inside. He could also see Vanessa’s window, though this was definitely not an option. He scanned several other windows until he felt the kid’s elbow nudging him.

-“Hey, look!” she exclaimed, still softly not to be heard by any guard. The shade looked in the direction she was pointing at and his eyes widened. The girl was pointing at an ajar window! It was one of the kitchen ones. He almost didn’t believe it: it was too good to be true!

He mindlessly let a sigh of relief escape him at the realization that there was actually another solution. In the corner of his vision, he could see the child beaming proudly at him. The spirit tried to ignore the warm feeling rising in his chest at the sight. This was ridiculous. Though he supposed she did deserve a thank-you, especially considering how patient she had been after what happened on the ship. She still looked extremely tired, but it was now a bit hidden by her overjoyed expression. He could tell she wanted to jump around everywhere in excitement, only managing to hold herself back because she knew they had to stay discreet.

The ghost clenched his teeth as he extended his hand towards her, patting her head briefly. He couldn’t believe he just did that. But she did deserve it, he supposed…

-“It’s only a window, calm down! There are way more important things to be excited about than a dumb window!” But, after a few seconds, he muttered a quick “thank you” that he was sure the kid had heard, seeing how her smile widened even more. The contact already made her bounce up and down!

-“And stop smiling like that, will you? You look stupider than usual!” grunted the ghost, knowing fully well that it would only make the brat happier than she already was. God, this kid would never let him forget that, would she?

The shade then straightened. No more fooling around now. It was time to get serious. He brought the child back to task and she replied by saluting him as if he were her boss. Snatcher sighed and decided to ignore her, conscious that she would never get back to the situation at hand otherwise. It apparently worked as she looked back at the kitchen window, her joyful expression soon replaced by a serious and determined one. How would they reach it without being seen by the guards? They needed to be discreet. Yet, it was going to be hard to cross the whole backyard quick enough.

Snatcher didn’t even the time to turn towards the kid as he heard a poofing sound behind him. Just as he was about to ask what was that noise, he felt himself being lifted up from the ground. The sudden movement caused him to jump from the surprise. He realized that the child had taken him onto her very small shoulder, without flinching or losing her balance. He lowered his head to stare at her in bewilderment: how was she able to hold a fully grown adult? She was just a kid!

… An alien kid with a biology which was probably completely different than a human one.

He was going to order her to put him back on the ground when he saw the new hat on the brat’s head: it was the time stop one. Snatcher’s face grew pale as he started to understand what she was planning to do.

-“Wait… Wait, wait, wait, no-” stuttered the ghost, trying to persuade her to not do what she was about to do. But the child only lifted her head to look at him mischievously, definitely defying his demands. She started to run. And then the ghost blinked. When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed around them. The vegetation had disappeared, replaced by walls, counters and cupboards, tables and chairs… They were not outside anymore: the kid had taken them into the kitchen in a blink, literally. The hatted child put Snatcher back on the floor and the spirit had to hold to one of the counters to stomach what had happened. This… Was not something he thought he would experience. It was definitely weird, though clearly not as bad as teleportation.

-“Hey, Snatcher, you okay?” whispered the little girl, looking at him with a malicious smile. That brat…!

-“You could have warned me you wanted to do that…” grunted the shade, slowly pulling himself together. This mission was not going to be a simple walk in the park… Especially not if the kid decided to keep up this kind of risky behaviour. They only had one chance, now was not the time for hazardous stunts.

The ghost turned back to the window, which had remained open, and threw a careful glance outside. No one seemed to have noticed them, fortunately. Still, what the kid had done could have ruined their chances and Snatcher couldn’t remain silent about it. He slowly closed the window, not wanting to draw attention. He then turned back towards the kid, glaring at her:

-“Next time, don’t be that reckless, we can’t be found.”

The child only rolled her eyes, annoyed:

-“Yeeees, dad!”

The shade grew pale immediately and almost lost his balance to the kid’s words. What? His reaction must have been really funny to her as she started giggling in the palm of her hand. She was making fun of him! Anger and indignation arose inside of him: how dared she? Plus, this was not the time!

-“I swear, once we’re out of this mess, I’ll make sure to-”

Snatcher didn’t have the time to finish his sentence. Footsteps resonated in the next hallway, coming closer and closer. The spirit could feel his heart sinking in his chest as he realized that someone was going to enter this room in a few seconds. They had to hide! The same look of panic had replaced the child’s playful expression. She probably understood it as well and her stance was much more tensed than before. The shade looked all around themselves, trying to find any good hiding spot. But the steps were coming closer and closer. The kid quickly kneeled down and took his hand, pulling him with her. The ghost mindlessly followed her, too distressed to think. They both crawled under the table, just in time. The moment they hid, the door opened and two guards entered the room. Thankfully, the tablecloth was long enough to keep them hidden from the men’s sight. They could still see their feet walking around.

-“See?” said one of the guards, punching the other’s shoulder mockingly: “I told you there was no one there. You’re so paranoid, relax.”

Next to him, the kid was holding her breath, keeping her mouth shut by covering it with both hands. Snatcher himself did his best to stay silent. His whole body was frozen, not moving an inch, and he was barely breathing as well. The feet continued moving.

-“Yeah… You’re right,” replied the other, embarrassed: “No one would break in. I thought I heard something, but it was probably my imagination.”

The spirit’s eyes locked with the brat’s scared ones. Well, now she seemed to understand what he meant earlier! But it was too late! He glared at her to prove his point, but she just lowered her hands to stick her tongue out in response. The ghost’s anger intensified. Oh, if only he had his powers! But he still couldn’t use them under this form, so the only thing he could do at the moment was glaring at her even more.

-“Yeah it was, just like I told you!” retorted the first one with a sneering tone: “Come on, let’s go back to work.”

The guards left the room after what seemed like an eternity to Snatcher. Once the door closed behind them, he and the brat waited for a bit before daring to move an inch. When the spirit thought they were finally safe, he crawled away from the table, clearly exasperated by the hat-wearing child’s attitude.

-“What was that?” he whispered furiously, lifting his arms in an interrogative and irritated gesture.

The little girl pouted at his reproach, staring at the ground as she grumbled:

-“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think they would hear us from there.”

The ghost would have facepalmed if he wasn’t trying to stay as focused as possible:

-“Well, duh! Of course they were going to hear us! You weren’t exactly cautious as far as I know!”

-“Yeah, fine, my bad. Can we move on now?” retorted the kid, annoyed. Snatcher was doing his best to stay calm despite his ex-contractor’s insolence. She definitely didn’t like being told what to do, which was a shame, since it was exactly what was going to happen.

The shade pinched his nose and took a deep breath. He could do this.

-“Listen, I’m the one who knows this manor. So, from now on, when I tell you to hide or to stay quiet, you obey me. The only thing you need to care about is telling me where that Time Piece is. Is that clear or do you need me to explain it in a more murderous way?”

The child sighed and nodded, still very much displeased by the discussion. However, she wasn’t in a position to say anything against it, so she reluctantly agreed. Well, that was the first step, at least.

-“Okay, so, about that Time Piece,” said the spirit: “Do you know where it is?”

His interlocutor took a moment to think, closing her eyes for a few seconds. The process seemed to be harder than usual as she started to frown. It was enough to tell the ghost that the search wasn’t going to be as easy as he hoped.

-“Hum… It’s weird…” started the brat, thinking harder: “I can feel it, it’s upstairs but… It’s very vague. I feel its aura above us, but I can’t exactly tell you where it is. It’s like there is something hiding it from me.”

Snatcher wasn’t surprised. The idea of “Simeon” and Vanessa not taking precautions to protect the precious artefact would have been rather absurd. If he were in their shoes, hiding the Time Piece would have been one of the first things he would have done. But, at least, they could work with a warm and cold kind of game. It wouldn’t be easy and they would probably need to check some of the rooms without being found by the guards patrolling in the hallways… But it was still a lead.

The spirit nodded. They could work with this. Well, they had to if they didn’t want to disappear with the rift’s collapse. It’s not like they had any choice in the matter anyway.

-“Well…” guessed the ghost: “I suppose we should get going then.”

The kid agreed. Both of them walked to the door, ready to start this treasure hunt for their survival. Deep inside, the shade couldn’t help but have a very bad feeling about this. But how hard could it be? He knew the manor perfectly and the kid had enough magical hats in case of emergency! What could go wrong?

The ghost opened the door carefully, throwing a glance in the hallway to make sure no one was there.

They had a treasure to find.

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Welp, what could go wrong ? :)

I hope you liked that chapter ! The last drawing is one of my favourites, I had so much fun drawing it. I hope you'll like the next chapters as well ! And thank you SO MUCH for all your support, it makes me feel so happy reading your comments and theories !!

See you later ! Take care in the meantime !

Chapter 17 =>

#A Hat In Time #snatcher #hat kid #fanfiction #my art #Reliving An Old Nightmare #Raon #ahit

15 notes · View notes

our-heroes-rise · 5 years

Note

Hi there!!! First time requesting... I'll use this chance to request a Midoriya x reader story where reader is small breasted, tall, thin, shy at the beginning, cheerful when they're comfortable, nerd, gamer, wears glasses, brunette and olive skinned. I'll leave the plot on your capable hands, I just want a happy ending, please!!! Izuku and reader ending up together!!! Thank you so much!!!

i think i had a bit too much fun writing this, haha. i deeply apologize for the ridiculously long wait though, hun, and i hope you enjoy what i’ve written for you. i rewrote this three times then finally got something i was happy with on the third try. think i’ll try to incorporate the “realistic” messages more often, they’re sure fun to make. anyway, hope you like it!

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Your fingers thrummed anxiously against the hardwood table as you stared blankly at the textbook before you, not at all taking in the very much helpful information it provided for figuring out the problem you had been stuck on for the past ten minutes. It wasn’t entirely your fault that you couldn’t bring yourself to focus though.

Ten minutes. They were all ten minutes late.

It wasn’t normal for all of them to be late. Momo was always on time -- always early, in fact. She never allowed herself to be less than five minutes early. Which was why you were extremely surprised when you entered the small coffee shop to find your friend’s usual table vacant of the beautiful high black ponytail.

There were no new messages in the group chat, you had already checked about a million times since you had arrived.

Nothing to let you know that anyone would be running late, or had canceled plans. It was so unlike Momo -- so unlike everyone, honestly. And it made you nervous.

Had something happened to them? Did a message not get through to you or something? What if they had all said that they couldn’t make it and he showed up expecting everyone to be here but all he found was you sitting at a table by yourself? Oh God, that would make it look like you lied to him. Would he be mad and want to leave? Why would he want to stay? He had probably only said he would come because he didn’t want you to feel bad if he rejected your offer.

That didn’t make sense anyway, he was in the group chat so even if you didn’t get the message that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Why would he even bother coming then?

Dear Lord, you wished your brain would shut up.

Two years. Two whole stupid years you have had a crush on him and never once had you tried to “shoot your shot”, as Mina would put it. You would face a hundred villains and All Might himself before you decided to muster up the courage to shoot your dumb friggin shot and face the possible embarrassment of rejection. It had taken you months to actually stand there like a big girl and have a decent conversation with him without stumbling over your words and averting your eyes away from him every two seconds. Then even longer to just ask him to hang out with you.

But not alone. God, no, not alone. You had to have other people there or else it would be too intimate, at least with other people you could have other things to distract yourself with if things got awkward. Keeping up a conversation with people you liked or weren’t extremely familiar with wasn’t exactly your forte. Your brain always seemed to draw a blank, which made normal human interaction a pain.

If you got stuck alone here with him you weren’t sure that you could forgive your friends for ditching, unless something really serious had happened. Geez, how would you even focus on your work? The study session hadn’t entirely been a ploy made up by your friends and yourself just to get to spend time with your crush. You had actually planned to study for the upcoming math test. You weren’t exactly terrible at math. Usually, you didn’t have much of a problem with it, but this unit had been utter hell, to put it bluntly. If someone is trying to become a hero, why do they need to know how to calculate the length and space between a curve on a graph? Really, what was the point?

A shrill ping echoed through your headphones, interrupting your blaring music and causing you to flinch slightly out of your thoughts.

Your eyes narrowed as they trailed further and further down the paragraph, suspicion settling into the pit of your stomach. All three of your most family-oriented friends forgot they had previous arrangements with their families? Doubtful. Mina getting food poisoning sounded about right, she sat with Sero and Kaminari during lunch sometimes, who are always daring her to eat disgusting food combinations. Jirou offering to help take care of said sick Mina? Absolutely not. Jirou can not stand to be around sick people, it grosses her out. She would rather spend ten minutes flirting with Bakugou than smell another person’s food-poison vomit.

If they had wanted to lie they should have tried a little harder to make it believable.

You weren’t going to call them out on it, though. Not once the realization dawned on you that your friends had, in undeniable fact now, left you all alone with your crush. And on purpose.

Why do they hate me?!

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, at a loss for what to say, until you saw his message slide through the chat.

Your heart lurched into your throat at his question. Now was your chance to ditch, to reschedule the plans for another time, and you were already typing up your excuse when another message pinged through your headphones.

This was completely unfair. They had all promised to be here with you and now they were all dropping out on you at the last second like they had planned this all along. Which, honestly, is probably what they had done.

You let out a heavy sigh, slumping further down into your seat, textbook and notes completely forgotten.

Truly, you knew your friends meant well in all of this, you just wished they had chosen a better way to go about it.

But, there really isn’t a better way, is there?

You certainly weren’t going to make the first move and Midoriya probably wasn’t either - if he even liked you that way. Despite the great amount of confidence he had gained over the past few years, mostly regarding his fighting style and the way he spoke to Bakugou, he could still be easily flustered, even if it wasn’t as common as before. So, no, you supposed there definitely wasn’t a better way your friends could have pulled this off.

Another heavily anxious sigh pushed past your lips as you fixed your slouching posture and reopened the group chat.

You let your fingers loom over the keyboard, once again, seriously contemplating your original idea to take a raincheck. Midoriya wouldn’t be upset with you, he would be completely understanding, especially if your excuse was good enough. Period cramps were a thing, ya know? Sometimes they caught you off guard and maybe you just didn’t -

Oh, for Christ’s sake, screw it.

That wasn’t too bad.

No, it was perfectly fine and he would be here in a few minutes.

He would be here in a few minutes.

Oh, for the love of All Might, he would be here, with you, alone, in a few God forsakenly short minutes and you had not a clue in the whole stupid world how this was going to go. You were panicking, a sort of pathetic amount, if you were going to be honest with yourself.

This was just Midoriya.

Midoriya, the cute nerdy kid who was the absolute sweetest person you had ever met in your entire life. The I Can And Absolutely Will Give My Life To Protect Everyone I Know And Love, Midoriya. The Midoriya who could shatter ten brick walls with less than a fifth of his power and still have enough to fend off three hundred more waiting villains.

Midoriya, the kindest, most gentle, and fiery soul you had ever known. The soul you had so stupidly allowed yourself to fall in love with these past few years.

Love.

That was a strong word, but something about it felt right when you applied it to your feelings for the gentle green-haired boy, which was a little terrifying, considering that most of his perspective of you was largely unknown. It was probably just your overly hormonal teenage brain trying to convince you that this emotion could only be found in the green eyes of the one and only class nerd. That didn’t matter anymore though. You knew you had already let yourself fall too far from the cliff edge to have any hope of saving yourself now.

Screw it, you repeated to yourself, tossing your phone back onto the table to resume staring blankly at your textbook, your brows only slightly more furrowed than before.

You had already started digging this grave two years ago, fully aware of the consequences, might as well finish it up and lay in it, nothing worse could come of it. Except, maybe, being buried alive and suffocating under the weight of your own regret.

It’ll be fine. It’s just Izuku. My friend. My friend... that I’ve had a crush on for -

It was a long - but still too short - couple of minutes.

Midoriya arrived at the cafe ten minutes later looking surprisingly out of breath. The freckled bridge of his nose and cheeks were a bright rosy red, bitten from the crisp winter evening air. He slumped into the chair across from you, flashing you the brightest smile you had ever seen while he set his bag down beside him.

“Sorry, I’m late,” He said, voice garbled through the noise of your headphones, which you immediately yanked out. “I was talking to Kirishima and completely lost track of time. I’m glad you waited for me though.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay,” you stammered, doing your best to return his smile just as confidently, though you were sure anyone could see how terribly flustered you already were. “I really hadn’t been waiting that long, I’m just happy you were able to come.” His breathing still sounded slightly labored as he pulled out his notebook and Algebra textbook, your brow quirked up in curiosity. “Izuku, did you run all the way here or something?”

A flush that you know has nothing to do with with the cold flares up his entire face to the tips of his ears, and his green eyes flicker sheepishly towards yours. “Uhm - Well, yeah, I felt bad for keeping you waiting for so long. Don’t worry, it was just a couple of blocks, I’m okay.” A small breathless laugh bubbled past his lips, “I’m thankful for Aizawa’s endurance training though.”

“Yeah,” you laughed with him, too aware of the heat you felt crawling up your neck. He had actually ran all the way from the dorms to the coffee shop just for you, because he felt guilty for keeping you waiting, even if it had only been a couple of minutes.

It was silly for you to dwell on such a thing, honestly. Midoriya really was just that type of person, it wouldn’t be considered a big deal to anyone else, but to you it meant the world. And you couldn’t do anything to tame the butterflies in your stomach when you pictured him, face scrunched with slight panic and focus as he rushed through the evening crowds all the way here, just to get to you quicker.

“I know it’s a bit late and all,” Midoriya mumbled, bringing you back into reality with a small jolt that, thankfully, went completely unnoticed by him as he still had his face in his bag. “But did you want anything from the cafe? I brought some money with me.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you though.” You were wide awake right now, caffeine wouldn’t do anything but make your nerves worse.

A small frown tugged at the corner of his mouth once he came back up from his bag, beaten up All Might wallet in hand. It was a challenge not to crack a smile in its direction. “You sure? I really don’t mind getting you something. I feel like I should pay you back for waiting for me.”

You rolled your eyes picking up a playful smile so he knew you weren’t actually irritated with him. “I told you, it’s fine, Izuku. You didn’t keep me waiting long, I promise.” You waved a hand in the direction of the cafe bar, “If you want to get something, go ahead, I don’t mind waiting a few more minutes.”

Midoriya paused for a moment, casting his gaze off to the side for a second before he shook his head. Seemingly having made a decision he tucked his wallet back into his backpack and gave you a warm grin. “I’m fine, I was really just asking for you, but I’m glad you’re not upset. You’re really too sweet, Y/n. Anyway, was there anything you wanted to go over first? Ochaco said you were struggling with-”

But your mind had started buzzing the second his compliment had reached your ears. A part of your brain was screaming at yourself to get a grip and the other part of you just really, really wanted to hear him say it again with that same heart-melting smile of his.

“Yeah,” you said absently, unaware as to what you were actually agreeing to. You knew the smile you were giving him must have made you look like a lovesick puppy ready to barf rainbows, yet you didn’t have enough properly operating brain cells to make you care. “We can start with that first.”

“Okay, that’s great! I have some notes you can look over if you want, or I can explain it if you’d like. I was also having trouble with this, but Iida was able to explain it to me in a way that actually makes sense, so I can try to explain it the same way. Is that alright?”

It took all of your focus to make yourself look down at the notebook he was holding out for you and actually process the words written on the paper. Then another few seconds for you to realize that you had no clue what in the hell the notes were talking about. Yeah, you definitely couldn’t zone out anymore or else you would be utterly screwed by the time the test came around.

“Uh, explain it, please?” you mumbled, casting a quick shy glance in his direction. “If you don’t mind.”

He chuckled and the sound made the heat in your cheeks grow a little hotter. “Not at all. So, the way Tenya explained it was like this...”

It was quite a feat to keep your brain focused on the task at hand rather than on the way Midoriya’s hand would brush against yours every once in a while when he was showing you how to solve a problem. Or the way his nose crinkled when he thought something you did was funny, but clearly didn’t want to laugh at for your sake. Or the way he had asked if he could sit next to you instead of across from you because it would be a lot easier for him to show you what he was doing. And the way his warm shoulder - covered in a large grey hoodie that had no right looking that good on him - pressed gently into yours.

It had been a difficult battle, but you had won. By the end of the night, you were caught up on everything you hadn’t understood in Algebra a couple hours prior. Midoriya grinned proudly down at your practice problems, unable to find a single mistake this time.

“You’re a really quick learner, Y/n,” he laughed, tilting his head to look back at you, his green eyes sparkling. “Are you sure you needed my help in the first place?”

You flushed, letting out a small giggle. “Oh, definitely,” you responded softly from behind the hand you had brought up to cover your mouth. “I didn’t know what the heck I was doing until you got here. It all just looked like a bunch of-”

“You shouldn’t hide your smile like that. It’s too beautiful to keep hidden.”

“H-Huh?” Oh, your face was totally on fire now.

Had you heard him correctly?

“I-I mean - U-Uhm - I’m really sorry!” Midoriya stammered, his hands immediately flying up into the air as if he didn’t know where to put them anymore as he quickly shuffled away from you on the booth. “That was really weird of me to say, sorry. I just - well, uhm - just -” he moved his text book over towards him and stared intensely at it, obviously intent on not making anymore eye contact with you.

Which was the absolute last thing you wanted right now, but you were still trying to wrap your head around everything that had just happened. That wasn’t the usual Midoriya compliment. He didn’t tell all of his friends how beautiful he thought there smiles were. It didn’t even seem like he had meant to say it in the first place, he was so flustered now.

“Was there - uhm - anything else you wanted to go over? I’m pretty much caught up on everything, so it’s - it’s whatever you want to do.”

Well, that definitely caught your attention. “You’re caught up on everything?” You asked slowly, brain still buffering severely. Midoriya nodded, green curls bouncing with the jerky movement. He didn’t look at you though. “Izuku, did you rush all the way out here just to help me?”

Again, not a thing Midoriya wouldn’t naturally do on his own, but the way he was reacting was a clear sign that this wasn’t just because of that fantastically kind heart of his. Warm hope, that you didn’t have the willpower to crush, bloomed large and all consuming within your chest.

He nodded once again, but this time you caught the apprehensive glance he shot at you from the corner of his eye. “Y-Yeah.” You noticed how prominent his freckles looked against the firey color of his cheeks, and it made your heart flutter. Midoriya let out a heavy sigh before finally looking back towards you, textbook forgotten. “Ochaco said it was a good idea for us to hang out together because - well - I - she knows that I - that I’ve liked you for a while.” The last part was barely loud enough for you to hear over the night time rush of the cafe, but your ears had most definitely not failed you that time.

“M-Me?”

Yes, you idiot! Who else would he be talking about?

Ochaco had known about it. Your best friend had known about it and hadn’t told you? Had let you keep your feelings for him buried deep within your heart for all of that time.

You couldn’t blame her, no matter how terribly you wanted to. You knew Ochaco did it with the best intentions. Ochaco wasn’t one to go around spilling everyone’s secrets. She had probably kept hope that Midoriya - or maybe you, even though the chances of that were slim to none - would finally admit to one another. That made this grand scheme of hers her way of telling you and Midoriya that even she had gotten tired of waiting for you two.

“Yeah, I told her this was a bad idea and that you probably didn’t feel the same way, but she insisted,” he added quickly, hands gone back to moving around the air awkwardly. “I’m really sorry that I’ve made this really weird now, I - I can leave if you want.”

Without thinking - just as you had been through out the course of this entire conversation - your hand shot out to wrap around one of his to keep him in place, even though he had made no indication of getting up.

“No!” You winced at your sudden volume, face burning again. “No, you can stay. Trust me, you haven’t made it weird, I’m just - uhh - trying to, I guess, process everything. Give me a second, please?”

Midoriya looked visibly stunned, but nodded his quick jerky nod nonetheless, bouncing his green curls again. Your brain ran through everything he had just said over and over until you were absolutely positive you hadn’t imagined any of it. Until you were absolutely positive that the boy you had so stupidly allowed yourself to fall for had just admitted having feelings for you. It wasn’t a trick of your mind from lack of sleep or too many hours of work, Midoriya had really just said all of that. That he thought your smile was too beautiful to hide, that he had ran all this way not because he needed to study but because he wanted to make sure you didn’t need his help, that he liked you. But not just liked you, he had liked you for a while.

A while. How long was that?

Probably not as long as you, but the answer didn’t matter. You were sure that he could have told you it was for the past couple of hours and you would still be just as happy.

A gentle squeeze around your hand from calloused fingers pulled you back to Earth, and you looked down to find that his hand - only slightly bigger than yours - was still wrapped up tightly in your own as if you were too scared to let go of him, scared he would disappear like the remnants of a dream.

“A-are you sure I didn’t make it weird?”

You laughed breathlessly, a bright grin lighting up your face as you lifted your eyes to meet his. His shoulders had relaxed a tiny bit, but his emerald eyes were still swimming with anxiety, even when you shook your head no.

“I’m - I’m sure, Izuku. I promise you didn’t make it weird.” You glanced down to pull his hand into your lap as you shifted in your seat to face him properly. Truthfully, you should have let go of his hand a while ago, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it yet. At least, he didn’t seem to mind. “I just - I dunno - I guess, I thought I would never be able to hear you say those words and I’m still having a hard time believing that you’ve even said them-”

“I said them!” He jumped in, the anxiety replaced by overwhelming joy. “That was all real, trust me, my heart is still pounding from the anxiety.” He let out a shaky laugh to which you joined him in. “I wasn’t at all sure how tonight was going to go. All Ochaco had told me was that I should trust her and that everything would be fine and, honestly, I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. But then when I got here and I saw you I knew there was no way I could keep this from you anymore. I had planned to tell you on the way home, except, well, I guess spending all of this time alone with you was enough to push me over the edge.”

You grinned and softly breathed, “I’m glad.”

——

There hadn’t been many people left out on the streets, this part of town never really got busy after dark because there were no bars or clubs. Only small shops and businesses that closed no later than ten lined this city block and every city block within a five mile radius of U.A. The frosty night air nawed at the warmth from your cheeks, washing them with a deep shade of scarlet. You curled into the warmth of your thick wooly sweater, thankful that you had thought to put it back on before leaving the cafe.

One of your hands took refuge in your cozy double sleeve so that it was no more than a nub of thick cloth, while the other, wound frigid fingers through the tender warmth his hand provided. A small, content smile adorned your face as you walked closely together, shoulders brushing with each step, to conserve the heat between you two.

Midoriya was beaming. He hadn’t stopped since he had left the cafe with his hand in yours, heart singing in delight at the sensation of your fingers slotted perfectly through his, like the missing pieces of a puzzle. His joy and excitement was so clearly bubbling past the brim of his self-control, you were sure that if he could smile any brighter that he would, just to show how proud he was to be holding your hand.

Neither of you said anything on your walk back to the dorms. You didn’t have to and neither did he, even if his posture said that he could barely contain himself. Midoriya could speak if he wanted, knew that without a shadow of a doubt, but he chose not to. He chose to walk with you, hand intertwined with yours, on a blissfully quiet trip back to the dorms, basking in your presence. Just as you did so happily with him.

Minutes pass much too quickly though, and it seems like you’re upon the entrance steps of the dorms only seconds later. He pauses and you stop with him, turning to face him, eager for the buildings heat, but more eager to understand the hesitation that flickers in his gaze. Another moment of silence passed before he turned to you, freckled cheeks flushed a bright red that once more has to do with far more than just the cold.

You wait patiently, eyes soft and mouth still pulled into a gentle smile that wordlessly urges him to speak his mind. He takes you in for one last moment, his beaming grin grown slightly muted as he searches for the confidence he needs, which he quickly finds resting in your own gaze.

“I - uhm - I just wanted to thank you,” he started quietly, “for making tonight so amazing. I really can’t tell you how happy it made me.”

Oh, you were going to swoon, truly.

This boy...

After all that he had done for you tonight, he still wanted to thank you. To thank you. When all you had done was show up and bottle up your feelings for the past two years. You didn’t deserve him and you weren’t sure if the universe had already realized its mistake, but there was no way in hell you were going to give him back now.

“Izuku,” you sighed, your smile lifting fondly at the edges, “I should be the one thanking you here. You went through all of this trouble today just to help me out and if it weren’t for you I would still be sitting there with that stupid text book and my harbored feelings not knowing what the heck I was supposed to do. So, thank you for all that you did for me tonight and making it one I will forever remember.”

His mouth fell open in a look of awe and soft adoration, then within one swift step forward, he swooped down and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet, a fleeting brush of his lips, but it was enough to warm your entire body in a flood of overwhelming heat.

Midoriya pulled away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, likely matching your own, and gaze slightly chagrined. “S-Sorry, I should have asked.”

You beamed, shaking your head vigorously as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his, “Stop apologizing for silly things and kiss me again.”

“S-Sor - I mean - wait, really?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at the genuine surprise in his eyes, it was adorable. “Yes, Izuku, yes, kiss me again.”

And so he did. With a grin that reflected your own, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time more firmly than the first, and brought his hands to your hips to pull you closer.

The night wasn’t so cold anymore. He warmed your heart, your chest, your body, your soul. Everything you could ever ask for, he was a brilliant pillar of light that radiated comforting heat and he was all yours. Your own personal ray of sunshine that you would hold on to for as long as you could.

———————————————————————

✨ written 10/9/19 ✨

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya imagines #midoriya scenarios #bnha #mha #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ochaco uraraka #momo yaoyorozu #bnha mina ashido #bnha jirou #bnha tooru

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adriennemareebrown · 4 years

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what do we do with unthinkable thoughts?

who are we in our unthinkable thinking moments?

how do we adapt together if the clues to our next pivot are unthinkable?

maybe sharing these unthinkable thoughts will help?

i’ll start with the scariest unthinkable thought for me, which is that maybe we are in a state of collective suicidal ideation – the state of thinking about, even planning, the end of us. i have thought this thought many times, for years.

i have ideated suicide in the past, thought it didn’t much matter if i was here or not, and so it didn’t much matter how i treated myself or others. when i was in that phase of ambiguous commitment to life, i took risks with my mind and body that i couldn’t imagine taking now. i practiced cynicism and hopelessness, as if they were the measures of humor, of intelligence. it was a brief phase of my life, but during that time i believed in nothing.

i tried to exit.

i then had to choose life from deep within me. that’s why i’m still here. i want to live. i want to want to live. i think everyone chooses to move towards life or away from it, though some don’t realize that they are making the choice. capitalism makes it hard to see your own direction.

as i have watched the world respond to the pandemic, the borders between nations shift meaning in my mind. i can see which countries choose life, and which don’t. which countries have a majority life-minded citizenship, which countries/regions elect leaders who care for them. which countries pivot at the highest governmental level to protect their people, to guide their people to protect themselves – places with a variety of economies and exposure have found ways to move towards life.

i wonder about the movements in those countries, what it might feel like to live and organize in a place that chooses life.

choosing life means being able to admit we are wrong when new information presents itself about the dangers around and amongst us.

choosing life means committing to the adaptations to stay alive, rather than the stubbornness to stay the same.

the u.s., as a nation, does not choose, or love, life. not yet, and possibly never before now.

other nations, many amongst the most developed in the world, initially shrugged at COVID-19. then they adapted.

the u.s. response has been more egregious than a shrug; it’s been a flagrant disregard, running towards a category five pandemic tornado. it’s meant that those of us who want to live are watching in horror as the mutating coronavirus fills in the pre-existing grooves of collective suicidal ideation and the resistance of those who love life – with climate deniers and corporate polluters on one side, environmental and climate justice movements on the other. white supremacists and patriarchs on one side, solidarity movements in race, ethnicity, class, gender, ability and sexuality arenas on the other.

we are a nation not divided but torn – pulled towards life and pulled towards death.

when i get that torn feeling within, which in recent years comes very rarely, in twinges and whisps, i now recognize it as the suicidal tendency in me. it’s not the truth, not the only truth, not my truth, not the choice i want to make. but the tendency is wiley, using the voices of people i love to make itself heard. i have to be vigilant, listen between the lines, ask: who would benefit from my absence? who benefits from my self-doubt?

our nation has a tendency towards its own destruction, a doubt of its right to exist, that is rooted in our foundation.

i think our movements struggle inside this larger national suicidal tendency – we want to grow, but at the same time some of us don’t believe we will all get there, or get anywhere better, in time. that we can’t, and won’t, put forth the effort.

maybe the idea of our future generations experiencing peace and abundance is not enough to keep us going.

maybe we just need some more immediate signs of life.

maybe we are terrified.

i, we, have to be able to discern what is me/us, and what is fear.

which leads to my next unthinkable thought: do i really know the difference between my discernment and my fear?

my dear friend Malkia teaches me that there is the fear intended to save your life, vs fear intended to end it. what i mean by discernment is the set of noticings, fears, wisdoms, deductions, and gut tremblings that want to save, or even just improve, my life, versus the fear that makes me unable to do anything, which makes me unable to draw on my life force to take action.

do i think i am being discerning when i am actually frozen in place, scared to change?

am i too scared of standing out from the crowd to pause and discern right action?

am i acting from terror?

am i able to discern a decision or action that makes sense?

i was in italy when the pandemic really became clear as a threat to my well-being. i went to one of the places i felt at home. and once i got there, i again found myself freezing, in denial of next moves, as everyone asked me where i was and when i was going home-home or elsewhere.

in my frozen state i would hear just a bit of the news, the new numbers of crisis, and shake my head at the idiots in office, and then numb back out. having quickly identified who i blamed, i was even less able to feel any agency in me. i froze and delayed and froze until i was overwhelmed by the inquiries.

then i had an excellent therapy session where i noticed:

oh. i am afraid. i am afraid that the pandemic is on the rise everywhere and i am going to leave safety for a dangerous unknown. oh! i don’t know what to do!

as soon as i acknowledged i was afraid i was able to move into discernment. my fear became data – i am afraid because the numbers are clear that i am in a safer place than any of the locations i am considering going to. i should stay put, not because i am afraid, but because, as my fear is actually screaming on behalf of my informed intuition, this is the best place to be in this moment.

my fear made me freeze until i had to move. therapy helped me notice i was afraid, deepen my breath, and return to discernment.

i see the same vacillation between fear and discernment in our movements right now, with no therapist in sight.

we are afraid of being hurt, afraid because we have been hurt, afraid because we have caused hurt, afraid because we live in a world that wants to hurt us whether we have hurt others or not, just based on who we are, on any otherness from some long-ago determined norm. supremacy is our ongoing pandemic. it partners with every other sickness to tear us from life, or from lives worth living.

so we stay put and scream into the void, moving our rage across the internet like a tornado that, without discernment, sucks up all in its path for destruction.

our emotions and need for control are heightened during this pandemic – we are stuck in our houses or endangering ourselves to go out and work, terrified and angry at the loss of our plans and normalcy, terrified and angry at living under the oppressive rule of an administration that does not love us and that is racist and ignorant and violent. grieving our unnecessary dead, many of whom are dying alone, unheld by us. we are full of justified rage. and we want to release that rage. and one really fast and easy way to do this is what i experience as a salem witch trial, a false bid for justice, or the even faster method of lynching.

before i move on, i need to acknowledge that these are extreme terms, terms that refer to systems of death. i know that i am speaking of a social destruction, a significantly less extreme consequence – and i am trying to place my finger on a feeling of punitive justice unleashed in our movements.

in our movements, this feeling of punitive justice comes in the wake of call outs of leaders or those with some increased exposure or access. in the past week i have seen people called out for embodying white supremacy in the workplace, for causing repeated or one-time sexual harm, for physical, emotional or digital abuse, for appropriation of ideas and images, for patriarchy, for ableism, for being dishonest, for saying harmful things a decade ago, for doing things that were later understood as harm – for embodying all of the pain that supremacy holds. the call outs generally share one side of what’s happened and then call for immediate consequences. and within a day, the call out is everywhere, the cycle of blame and shame activated, and whoever was called out has begun being punished.

we are afraid, and we think it will assuage our fears and make us safer if we can clarify an enemy, a someone outside of ourselves who is to blame, who is guilty, who is the origin of harm. we can get spun into such frenzy in our fear that we don’t even realize we are deploying the master’s tools.

ah, audre, come in.

we’ve always known lynch mobs are a master’s tool. meaning: moving as an angry mob, sparked by fear (often unfounded or misguided) with the power to issue instant judgment and instant punishment. these are master’s tools.

we in movements for justice didn’t create lynch mobs. we didn’t create witch trials. we didn’t create this punitive system of justice. we didn’t create the state, we didn’t choose to be socialized within it. we want to dismantle these systems of mass harm, and i know that most of us have no intention of ever mimicking state processes of navigating justice.

the master’s tools feel good to use, groove in the hand easily from repeated use and training. but they are often blunt and senseless.

unless we have a true analysis of abolition and dismantling systems of oppression, we will not realize what’s in our hands, we will never put the master’s tools down and figure out what our tools are and can be.

oh – but you can’t say it’s a salem witch trial if it’s all Black and Brown and queer and trans people doing it…

oh – you can’t call it a lynching, because of the power dynamics! it’s a move against someone with more power.

but then – my third unthinkable thought – why does it feel like that? why do our movements more and more often feel like angry mobs moving against ourselves? and what is at stake because of it? why does it feel like someone pointing at someone else and saying: that person is harmful! and with no questions or process or time or breath, we are collectively punishing them?

sometimes we even do it with the language of transformative justice: claiming that we are going to give them room to grow. they need to disappear completely to be accountable. we are publicly shaming them so that they will learn to be better.

underneath this logic i hear: we are dunking her in the water to see if she drowns, because if she drowns then we know she wasn’t a witch. we are hanging him from the tree because then we can pretend we have exorcised ‘bad’ from our town. we are lynching to affirm our rightness.

which isn’t to say that some of the accused aren’t raging white supremacists in movement clothing. or abusers who have slipped through the fingers of accountability. or shady in some other way.

which isn’t to say that a public accounting of harm, and consequences, aren’t necessarily the correct move.

which isn’t to say we don’t believe survivors. because we must.

but how do we believe survivors and still be abolitionist? and still practice transformative justice?

to start with, i have been trying to discern when a call out feels powerful, like the necessary move, versus when it feels like the witch trial/lynch mob energy is leading.

it feels powerful when there have been private efforts for accountability. it feels powerful when survivors are being supported. it feels necessary when the accused has avoided accountability, particularly (but not exclusively) if they have continued to cause harm. it feels necessary when the accused person has significantly more power than the accuser(s) and is using that power to avoid accountability. it feels powerful when the demand is process and consequence based.

it feels like a lynch mob when there are no questions asked. when the survivor’s healing takes a back seat. when there is no attempt to have a private process. when there is no time between accusation and the call for consequences. and when the only consequence is for the accused to cease to exist. when the accused is from one or more oppressed identities. when it feels performative. when the person accused of causing harm does what the survivor/crowd demands, but we keep pulling up the rope.

no inquiry, no questions, no acceptance of accountability, no jury, no time for the learning and unlearning necessary for authentic change…just instant and often unsatisfactory consequences.

a moment on this: one of the main demands i see in call outs is for a public apology. to expect a coherent authentic apology from someone who has been forcibly removed from power or credibility feels like a set up. usually they issue some pr sounding thing and we use that paper as more fuel for the fire at their feet.

i have seen the convoluted denial-accountability-nonapology message from many an accused harm doer, especially when physical or sexual harm is involved. sometimes they are claiming innocence, sometimes they are admitting to some harm, rarely at the level of the accusation. sometimes they say they tried to have a process but it didn’t work, or they were denied. who knows what they mean by process, who knows if the accuser was ready for a process, who knows what actually happened between them, the relational context of the instance or pattern of harm, who knows?

the truth about sexual assault and rape and patriarchy and white supremacy and other abuses of power is that we are swimming in them, in a society that has long normalized them, and that they often play out intimately.

the truth is, sometimes it takes a long time for us to realize the harm that has happened to us.

and longer to realize we have caused harm to others.

the truth is, it isn’t unusual to only realize harm happened in hindsight, with more perspective and politicization.

but there’s more truth, too.

the additional truth is, right now we have the time.

the additional truth is, even though we want to help the survivor, we love obsessing over and punishing ‘villains’. we end up putting more of our collective attention on punishing those accused of causing harm than supporting and centering the healing of survivors.

the additional truth is, we want to distance ourselves from those who cause harm, and we are steeped in a punitive culture which, right now, is normalizing a methodology of ‘punish first, ask questions later’, which is a witch trial, lynching, master’s tool methodology. which, because we are in the age of social media, we now have a way to practice very publicly.

supremacy is the original pandemic, an infectious disease that quietly roots into each of us. we might have supremacy due to race, citizenship, gender, class, ableism, age, access, fame, or other areas where we feel justified to cause harm without consequence, sometimes without even realizing we’ve caused harm, because supremacy is a numbing and narrowing disease.

i want us to let go of the narrowness of innocence, widen our understanding of how harm moves through us. i want us to see individual acts of harm as symptoms of systemic harm, and to do what we can to dismantle the systems and get as many of us free as possible.

often a call out comes because the disease has reached an acute state in someone, is festering in hiding, is actively causing harm. i want us to see the difference between the human and the disease, to see what we are afraid of, in others and in ourselves, and discern a path that actually addresses the root of our justified fears.

this is not a case against call outs – there is absolutely a need for certain call outs – when power is greatly imbalanced and multiple efforts have been made to stop ongoing harm, when someone accused of harm won’t participate in community accountability processes, the call out is a way of pulling an emergency brake.

but it should be a last option. the consequences of being called out at this point are extremely dire and imprecise. the presence of infiltration in our movements is so documented and prevalent. call outs are an incredible modern tool for those who are not committed to movements to use against those having impact.

right now calling someone out online seems like first/only option for a lot of people.

i can’t help but wonder who benefits from movements that engage in public infighting, blame, shame and knee jerk call outs? i can’t help but see the state grinning, gathering all the data it needs, watching us weaken ourselves. meanwhile, the harm continues.

i don’t find it satisfying, and i don’t think it is transformative to publicly call people out for instant consequences with no attempt at a conversation, mediation, boundary setting or a community accountability process with a limited number of known participants.

it doesn’t make sense to say ‘believe all survivors’ if we don’t also remember that most of us are survivors, which includes most people who cause harm. what we mean is we are tired of being silenced, dismissed, powerless in our pain, hurt over and over. yes. but being loud is different from being whole, or even being heard, being cared for, being comforted, being healed. being loud is different from being just. being able to destroy is different from being able to generate a future where harm isn’t happening all around us.

we are terrified of how widespread and active harm is, and it makes us want to point the finger and quickly remove those we can identify as bad. we want to protect each other from those who cause harm.

many of us seem to worry that if we don’t immediately jump on whatever mob wagon has pulled up in our dms, that we will be next to be called out, or called a rape apologist or a white person whisperer or an internalized misogynist, or just disposed of for refusing to group think and then group act. online, we perform solidarity for strangers rather than engaging in hard conversations with comrades.

we are fearful of taking the time to be discerning, because then we may have to recognize that any of us could be seen as harmdoers. and when we are discerning, when we do step up to say wait, let’s get understanding here, we risk becoming the new target, viewed as another accomplice to harm instead of understood as a comrade in ending harm.

perhaps, most dangerously, we are, all together now, teetering on the edge of hopelessness. collective suicidal ideation, pandemic burnout, 45-in-office burnout, climate catastrophe burnout and other exhaustions have us spent and flailing, especially if we are caught in reactive loops (which include the culture of multiple daily call outs) instead of purposeful adaptations. some of us are losing hope, tossed by the tornado, ungrounded and uprooted by the pace of change, seeking something tangible we can do, control, hold, throw away.

the kind of callouts we are currently engaging in do not necessarily think about movements’ needs as a whole. movements need to grow and deepen, we need to ‘transform ourselves to transform the world’*, to ‘be transformed in the service of the work’**. movements need to become the practice ground for what we are healing towards, co-creating. movements are responsible for embodying what we are inviting our people into. we need the people within our movements, all socialized into and by unjust systems, to be on liberation paths. not already free, but practicing freedom every day. not already beyond harm, but accountable for doing our individual and internal work to end harm, which includes actively working to gain awareness of the ways we can and have harmed each other, and ending those cycles in ourselves and our communities.

knee jerk call outs say: those who cause harm cannot change. they must be eradicated. the bad things in the world cannot change, we must disappear the bad until there is only good left.

but one layer under that, what i hear is:

we cannot change.

we do not believe we can create compelling pathways from being harm doers to being healed, to growing.

we do not believe we can hold the complexity of a gray situation.

we do not believe in our own complexity.

we can only handle binary thinking: good/bad, innocent/guilty, angel/abuser, black/white, etc.

it is a different kind of suicide, to attack one part of ourselves at a time. cancer does this, i have seen it – oh it’s in the throat, now it’s in the lungs, now it’s in the bones. when we engage in knee jerk call outs and instant consequences with no process, we become a cancer unto ourselves, unto movements and communities. we become the toxicity we long to heal. we become a tool of harm when we are trying to be, and i think meant to be, a balm.

oh unthinkable thoughts. now that i have thought you, it becomes clear to me that all of you are rooted in a singular longing: i want us to want to live.

i want us to want to live in this world, in this time, together.

i want us to love this planet and this species, at this time.

i want us to see ourselves as larger than just individuals randomly pinging around in a world that will never care for us.

i want us to see ourselves as a murmuration of creatures who are, as far as we know right now, unique in all the universe. each cell, each individual body, itself a unique part of this unique complexity.

i want us not to waste the time we have together.

i want us to look at each other with the eyes of interdependence, such that when someone causes harm, we find the gentle parent inside of us who can use a voice of accountability, while also bringing curiosity – ‘why did you cause harm? do you know? do you know other options? apologize.’ that we can set boundaries that don’t require the disappearance of other survivors. that we can act towards accountability with the touch of love. that when someone falls behind, we can use a parent’s voice of discipline while also picking them up and carrying them for a while if needed.

i want us to adapt from systems of oppression and punishment to systems of uplifting and transforming.

i want us to notice that this is a moment when we need to choose life, not surrender to the incompetence and hopelessness of our national leadership.

i want us to be discerning.

i want our movement to feel like a vibrant, accountable space where causing harm does not mean you are excluded immediately and eternally from healing, justice, community or belonging.

i want us to grow lots and lots of skill at holding the processes by which we mend the wounds in our communities and ourselves.

i want satisfying consequences that actually end cycles of harm, generate safety and deepen movement.

i want us to hold Black humanity to the highest degree of protection, even when we have caused harm. i want us to see each other’s trauma-induced behavior as ancestral and impermanent, even as we hold each other accountable.

i want us to be particularly rigorous about holding complexity and accountability well for Black people in our movement communities who are already struggling to keep our heads above water and build trust and move towards life under the intersecting weights of white supremacy, racialized capitalism, police brutality, philanthropic competition culture, and lack of healing support.

i never want to see us initiate processes for Black accountability where those who are not invested in Black life can see it, store it, weaponize it. replace Black in that sentence with any other oppressed peoples and i still feel the same way. it is not strategic, and, again, it is rarely satisfying.

i want us to ask who benefits from our hopelessness, and to deny our oppressors the satisfaction of getting to see our pain. i want them to wonder how we foment such consistent and deep solidarity and unlearning. i want our infiltrators to be astounded into their own transformations, having failed to tear us apart.

i want us to acknowledge that the supremacy and suicidal ideation and hopelessness and harm are everywhere, and make moves that truly allow us to heal into wholeness.

because against all odds in space and time? we. are. winning.

we are winning in spite of the tsunami of pressures against us. we are moving towards life in spite of everything that wants us to give up.

we in movement must learn to choose life even in conflict, composting the bad behaviors while holding the beating hearts.

choosing life includes asking: do i have the necessary information to form an opinion? do i have the time to seek understanding? what does the survivor need? did a conversation/process already happen? is a conversation/process possible? how do we be abolitionist while gaining accountability here? who benefits from me doubting that movement can hold this? who could hold this well? what will end the cycle of harm here?

we must learn to do this before there is no one left to call out, or call we, or call us.

….

thank you deeply to shira hassan and malkia devich cyril for loving feedback on this piece.

* grace lee Boggs ** mary hooks

#IFTTT #WordPress

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glowwormsmith · 4 years

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Ultimate Relationship Ask Meme

Tagged by @amistrio

Tagging @nightwingshero @thefathersbride @deputyash @bioshocking @punisherpage @chazz-anova @ja-crispea (no pressure)

I will do Jacob/Tess an put this under a read more, dang it’s long (but so good for oc development, I’ll do one for my other two pairings on my own)

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Both tend to do it if significantly stressed enough, since both are so quiet half the time, but Tess has a firmer edge due to being a mom.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Tess.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Neither, at the end of it all and despite their problems, they are with each other to the end of the line.

Who trashes the house? Neither.

Do either of them get physical? Neither do.

How often do they argue/disagree? A lot, due to the stress of their lives. Tess was guilt-ridden over cheating on her husband with Jacob, and then he ended up kidnapping her and having their kid all along when she thought her (now dead) husband had killed the baby. It got better as Tess developed Stockholm stayed in his bunker, but she never got used to his extreme tactics and cruelty.

Who is the first to apologize? Tess, and the first one to air out her feelings/concerns. Jacob even developed enough trust until his death to also talk things out with her.

Sex:

Who is on top? They switch it up, but it’s usually Jacob.

Who is on the bottom? See above.

Who has the strangest desires? Most likely Jacob; Tess is pretty vanilla after having only had one partner her whole life and never experimented with her boring husband. Not like Jacob knows anything too kinky (”that’s John’s thing”), but he does push Tess to try things she never did, such as outdoor sex and edging.

Any kinks? I guess Jacob has a breeding kink and likes doing it outdoors or if there is the risk someone can see them. Tess doesn’t have any specific ones and just goes along with whatever Jake wants as long as it’s not violent or demeaning.

Who’s dominant in bed? Jacob.

Is head ever in the equation? Tess does know how to give good head and Jacob tries his best with her, so yes, they do a lot of oral.

If so, who is better at performing it? Tess.

Ever had sex in public? Jacob introduced Tess to it: they had sex in the veteran center, out int he woods, in a church, near the window so the trainees could see...

Who moans the most? Tess, it surprises Jacob how loud she can get

Who leaves the most marks? Jacob.

Who is the more experienced of the two? Both have had sex, but Jake has had more lovers and exposure to different types.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? It depends on how horny/frustrated at one another they feel. Tess leans more to “making love;” Jake can see it as both.

Rough or soft? Like above, but Tess leans more toward soft sex, so he obliges. Tess had an unfulfilling sex/romantic life with her marriage and sex had even been painful at times with Logan, so she really wants sex with her new partner to be sex and long-lasting so she can get better pleasure and a better experience.

How long do they usually last? Poor Jake, he’s 47, so he doesn’t last long (especially with that good head lol), so he mainly spends time drawing pleasure out from Tess.

Is protection used? Lol, nope, that’s how they got Todd. After Todd’s birth, Tess does ask for protection more often.

Does it ever get boring? Maybe a little since Tess really likes foreplay, but Jacob is happy enough to help her so he goes for it.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? At John’s ranch of all places. They were there for a family dinner (pre-Reaping) so Tess could meet Jacob’s family (who semi-disapproved b/c she was still married, but they liked her nonetheless). Jacob wanted to get back at John for some bitchy comments, so he fondled Tess under the dinner table and then followed her to the bathroom and took her there. The other Seed’s had an inkling what was happening, but choose to do nothing and sat there until a smug Jacob and an embarrassed Tess returned. John still wants to mark the two with “Lust” to this day.

Do they plan on having children/or have children? They’ve had Todd and Tess wouldn’t mind one more if possible; Jacob is fine with Todd and adopting Tess’s daughters.

If so, how many children do they want/have? See above.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Tess is the cuddler of this relationship.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Jacob, but Tess has gotten really teasing with Jacob in her bolder moments since gettign with him (he’s a bad influence!).

Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves? Both, though Tess is slightly more needy.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Jacob isn’t much of a fan of snuggles, but will allow it for a few minutes durign down time. Also when he’s asleep that’s when Tess chooses to snuggle the most.

Who gives the most kisses? Tess.

What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Walking in the Whitetails if they can avoid the Resistance long enough to do so lol. They can also just sit quietly in each other’s presence and enjoy the company, with Tess leading most conversation if it takes her to do so.

Where is their favorite place to cuddle? In bed.

How often do they get time to themselves? Not often, especially when Jacob is busy with his "cull the herd” schtick.

Sleeping:

Who snores? Jacob.

If both do, who snores the loudest? Just Jacob, pray for Tess.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share a bed, though it took Tess a while to get to that point (what with the guilt over their affair, his cult kidnapping her and ruining her family life, feeling horrified by his actions).

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Once Tess decides to sleep together again, Tess is the one who cozies up to him and in his sleep he ends up hugging her.

What do they wear to bed? If they’re together? Jacob simply either goes naked, or strips down to pants/underwear. Tess would prefer pajamas, but since it’s not an option, she’ll sleep in under clothes.

Are either of them insomniacs? Jacob.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Sometimes, if Jacob really needs them. Tess tries to limit his use by just talking to him until one or the other falls asleep.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Tess will snuggle, much to Jacob’s annoyance (though he secretly loves it).

Who wakes up with bed hair? Both, but Tess has nastier snags.

Who wakes up first? Jacob most often due to nightmares or his strict routine. Tess will follow shortly after be/c she’s been a mom and is used to it.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Neither, but it is Tess is more used to it due to her daughter’s surprising her.

What is their favorite sleeping position? Tess prefers her side, Jacob on his back.

Do they set an alarm each night? Not really, since Jacob’s brain is a pretty good alarm clock due to the military routine/PTSD keeping him up. Tess often ends up waking at 7 am because that’s when she got the girls up, unless her body really needs the rest. Also, they have baby Todd, that’s often their alarm clock.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? No, unless it’s one that hosts security cams around the veteran center.

Who has nightmares? Both, but Jacob has them more frequently on account of his barely treated PTSD.

Who has ridiculous dreams? Neither.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Jacob.

Who makes the bed? Tess does it like clockwork.

What time is bed time? Depends on the type of day they have; Jacob might still be working late into the night or might retire early to get needed rest.

Any routines/rituals before bed? None for Jacob, but Tess tries to keep to a routine despite the circumstances: she goes to sleep better after some tea and occasionally a shower.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Both, but people expect it from Jake, not from Tess.

Work:

Who is the busiest? Jacob, running a doomsday cult is hard work. Tess is more like a prisoner, but she tries to keep herself busy in the veteran center.

Who rakes in the highest income? Neither really.

Are any of them unemployed? Tess technically is during the events of the Reaping. She lost her job at the veteran center (which was more of a volunteer position, as her husband forced her to quit after they were married/Hazel was on the way) after the incident in which her husband found out about the affair and shot her, so she had been injured. Then the Reaping happened and she was kidnapped and force to be nurse to the cultists, which isn’t really a proper job.

Jacob technically has one, but does being a cult leader really count? Is he unionized, or getting proper benefits?

Who takes the most sick days? Neither, considering the circumstances.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Same as above, but Tess would take sick days if she couldn’t hid her bruises or when her girls needed her pre-Reaping.

Who sucks up to their boss? Neither.

What are their jobs? Jacob trains the soldiers for Eden’s Gate and keeps the Whitetail Mountains in line. Tess had trained to be a nurse (and even did some Doctors Without Borders/Peace Corps-esque service in her youth), but was forced to quit by her husband Logan. She took up as a nurse/helper at the veteran center when her husband lost his job and was secretly earning income to leave him/Hope County eventually). She is now semi-reluctant nurse for Eden’s Gate.

Who stresses the most? Both of them, but they are the types to keep it to themselves.

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Jacob simply feels this is his purpose; he doesn’t feel any which way about it. Tess loved nursing and had a strong desire to help people, so she was both sad when she had to quit nursing and happy when she took it back up at the vet center. As a semi-reluctant POW of Eden’s Gate, she isn’t sure if she should help the people who are hurting those she once knew and loved, but she does take her duties seriously and her compassionate heart leads her to help others again.

Are they financially stable? Tess was more stable than Jacob, but it didn’t last long.

Home:

Who does the washing? Tess.

Who takes out the trash? Both, but mainly Tess.

Who does the ironing? Tess (she likes to do domestic chores, it keeps her mind occupied).

Who does the cooking? Tess, she won’t let a Seed come near any kitchen on her watch.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Most likely Jacob.

Who is messier? Jacob; it’s not that he’s a slob, he just doesn’t try to keep clean it’s the depression.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Jacob.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Most likely Jacob.

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither, but Jacob does forget to put the seat down.

Who is the prankster around the house? Neither, it’s not in their natures.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Tess. It’s what gets her caught if/when she tries to escape, since she can forget minor details and Jacob is just that much of a memory master.

Who mows the lawn? Neither, they don’t have a lawn. If they did, probably Jacob.

Who answers the telephone? Both.

Who does the vacuuming? Tess.

Who does the groceries? Both.

Who takes the longest to shower? Tess.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Tess.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Yeah. Jacob was homeless before his brothers found him and he tends to not think much about money, since John takes care of any expenses. Tess hit hard times when her husband lost his job and refused to get another one to dedicate his life to “writing” (and really, he just sat around the house to drink, watch TV, and later when he dedicated his time to the cult), which had her take up a job at the veteran center to earn extra money. Her parents and sister were her safety net, but she didn’t want to accept money from them (on account of her humility and her husband’s arrogant pride; he smacked her once when she even brought it up and she never did so again).

How many cars do they own? None. Jacob does have cult trucks, though.

Do they own their home or do they rent? Jacob had been living with his brother John at his ranch house, though he would drift around abandoned cabins and bunkers just because he felt like it. He then took over the veteran center as his new home lol. Tess’s husband owned the house, but had to abandon it after the Reaping and she’s now a “guest” at the vet center.

Do they live in the city or in the country? Country, in bumfuck Hope County (are there even any other towns in this county besides Fall’s End? No wonder no one came for the cult, I bet most Americans don’t even know this place exists!). Tess grew up in Montana and Hope County has been her home for most of her life. Both prefer country to city life.

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Yep, though Jacob can’t enjoy nature as much since he’s got a cult army to build.

What’s their song? Cold Cold Man (Jacob’s perspective). I Walk the Line (Tess’s perspective). Otherwise, none they can agree upon or have thought about.

What do they do when they’re away from each other? They throw themselves into other projects or thoughts; Tess thinks more about Jacob than he does of her.

Where did they first meet? Tess met Jacob at the veteran center where she was working as a helper and he was receiving treatments (a cover for him scoping out potential bases). They quietly became drawn to each other and started platonically before they moved to an intimate relationship.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Neither.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Neither.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Jacob, much to Tess’s consternation.

Any mental issues? Ummm, where to start? Jacob has PTSD from both his abusive family situation, being separated from his beloved brothers, and from his military days. Tess has low self-esteem and depression/anxiety due to being in a loveless, emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive marriage; she recently showed signs of PTSD herself after her husband shot both her and her daughter after he found out about the affair and thinking her newborn baby Todd was killed by him. And that was before the cult broke her even more.

Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither.

Who kills the spiders around the house? Jacob, because Tess would just trap and release the spiders if she encounters them.

Their favorite place? Snowshoe Lake has become a quiet place for the two of them to be together when there is a moment of peace.

Who pays the bills? Both, if there were bills to pay.

Do they have any fears for their future? Definitely. Tess is obvious (the father of her child helps lead a violent doomsday cult, how her family will handle this/make it out alive, the fact that she is genuinely becoming dependent upon Jacob as the events go on). Jacob is also complicated: he just assumed he would die in service of Joseph’s dream. Now that he has found some romantic affection and has a child, he is torn about giving up his life or somehow living to be with Tess and his son.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? None; John would end up doing it for them to “give them some taste of class” lol.

Who’s the tallest? Jacob.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Jacob.

Who wanders around in their underwear? Neither, but Jacob would be most likely if he was sure no one could see him.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Neither.

What do they tease each other about? Neither are the teasing type, but Jacob might make a few cracks about Tess’s soft heart (though he does love this about her, like he’ll admit it).

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Neither really care about fashion.

Do they have mutual friends? Nope, though Tess does try her best to get along with Jacob’s brothers.

Who crushed first? Tess, with Jacob following after he got to know her (the sexual attraction was there between them).

Any alcohol or substance related problems? Not really; Tess makes sure Jacob doesn’t slip into depending upon sleep pills or tries to notice any behavior (I imagine Jake would want to stay away from alcohol abuse so he doesn’t end up like Old Man Seed).

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? None.

Who swears the most? Neither of them swear a whole lot, but Jacob might swear more than Tess, who abhors bad language.

#ask game #Tess and Jacob #jacob seed x oc #fc5

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belovedrival · 5 years

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Today was just a little bit too much. Rant coming: there’s your warning. Obviously it’s all my opinion, and you can like it or lump it.

I had another appointment at the clinic early this morning. On the surface everything was fine. I have another appointment on Friday; at this point, I’m doing what they tell me.

Which might be why I feel so unsteady; if this infertility ride was the only uncertain thing right now, I would be better prepared to deal with it. But as we are all aware, everything is uncertain right now.

And I have never liked simply doing what someone tells me to. Unless there is a damn good reason.

Instead of taking me into the little room for the blood draw, the nurse took me straight into the ultrasound room. She explained that they had changed their procedures, which made perfect sense to me. Instead of the usual callback-to-the-room-for-the-bloodwork-go-back-to-the-waiting-room-after-bloodwork-get-called-back-to-the-ultrasound room-have-ultrasound-wait-for-nurse-have conversation, both the blood draw and the ultrasound took place in that room. There was no conversation. Instead, the tech told me after I got dressed again, to go out to my car and they would call me with instructions.

All the nurses wore masks, in case they coughed. After the ultrasound I walked back out to my car. Two minutes later my cell rang.

“This is weird,” the nurse said, laughing. It was. I laughed too, understanding why they’re doing it this way - to limit the waiting room filling up with people, to limit exposure for both patients and staff. It doesn’t mean I like it.

Work was a mixture of boredom and trying to get some things done. With the stock market resembling a roller coaster there isn’t much for us to do, except for the little work we have (stretching some things out to pass time) and gossiping about whether or not we’ll all eventually be sent home to work. Meanwhile the closures of, well, everything continue, and I haven’t heard a hint of how long we’ll be expected to live in this reality. Or (more importantly) what parameters are needed to get us back to somewhere resembling a month ago. Are we waiting until the American death rate drops? Not that the death rate is so high here (yet). Or until a certain percentage of people have gotten sick, and have recovered? Are we to live with increasing restrictions without any hint of how long they might last? Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? Don’t the people shutting everything down realize that if the hospitals aren’t crowded in a couple weeks; if the death rate stays where it is; if most of us are looking around and can’t see anybody we know who’s gotten sick - people will want to be able to live their lives again? Do they think they’ll be able to keep people shut away at home, indefinitely?

I understand there’s a lot of ifs in that statement. If we’re going to assume anything is possible, though, why are the powers that be acting like ONLY calamity is possible? Honestly before yesterday I would never have thought that governors had the authority to simply close every restaurant in a state. I am *NOT* saying that social distancing isn’t important. I am asking, why are all these worst case scenarios being assumed they WILL happen? For every Italy, there’s a Singapore. The extremely cynical side of me thinks someone’s on a power trip. I’m also kind of appalled at how fast people have succumbed to fear. Again, I know this is a new virus and everyone’s freaking out. But really? The hoarding and panic buying and toilet paper becoming THE thing to get?

Someone gets spooked, and the herd stampedes. Who benefits from this? Certainly not the elderly and sick, huddled in their homes, afraid to leave, scared for their lives. Not the parents trying to figure out how they can care for their children and still work. Not the teachers who have to scramble with lesson plans. Not the workers who rely on tourism and travel and event planning. Not the healthcare workers who have to deal with paranoid people as well as those who truly need help. Not the small business owners who barely break even and will have to lay off workers or declare bankruptcy when all this is finally over. If it ever will be...

As disappointed and as worried as I am about what this is going to do to our communities (what’s left of them), I reached my breaking point this afternoon. No groups over 50 people allowed to meet. My pastor sent out emails about how services will be split, in order to comply with that. No choir for the foreseeable future. I cried on the way home. It isn’t supposed to be like this; it’s dividing up family. Evil divides, isolates, abandons people. Love unites, binds together, cherishes people. We have let fear take hold. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18)

I’ll go along with it for now, but I despise what’s being done. To all of us.

This is NOT how a free society runs. Organizations voluntarily deciding to cancel meetings, places of worship deciding on their own to have virtual services - that’s all fine. But these decrees from On High that keep getting sent down - what is the justification for these draconian orders? “Flattening the curve”? How flat will the curve have to be, to be acceptable? A straight line? Last week, events with hundreds were still allowed. Tomorrow it might be 10. Do the experts really know what the right number is to keep people healthy?

More importantly, will they actually tell us when they know, or will we be expected to continue to obey them, regardless of what happens as time goes on? What if the worst DOESN’T happen? Then people will have been isolated, businesses and livelihoods lost, and this grand experiment of democracy will have been damaged, all as a consequence of fear.

It isn’t that I want people to get sick or die. Of course I don’t! It’s simply that there are other things that can be lost, other than lives. “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” President Franklin Roosevelt said. How right he was.

#real life #unsteady #infertility #work #fear #love #freedom #bible verse #1 john 4:18 #cynical #if everything goes to hell in the next two weeks obviously my cynicism would be unjustified #waiting game #coronavirus #2020

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n0nesse · 5 years

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ♡ 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄

Instead of having people send these in I just wanted to do all of them myself!

🍍 : how comfortable is my muse in their body? how do they feel about their height, weight, strength, and body type? how important is being attractive to them?

All Scanners share virtually the same physical form, and all YoRHa units use the same base endoskeleton, though the hardware differs between function. They’re short and small-framed to save the maximum amount of materials while still being able to effectively perform their duties. 9S has never felt self-conscious about himself physically because he looks almost identical to every other Scanner and there was never any pressure on any of them to look a certain way like there is with humans. They have no ability to change their height or weight (though non-YoRHa androids can do so for aesthetic purposes if they choose) and it’s forbidden by their uniform code to modify their bodies anyway.

Since coming to Koi, 9S is quite aware now that he would be very short for a human of his apparent age, but he doesn’t feel bad about it or anything, other than occasionally being irritated at getting mistaken for a kid.

🍅 : how does my muse feel about plastic / cosmetic surgeries & procedures? is it something they have done or would do? do they mind if others do it?

As mentioned before, it’s forbidden for YoRHa units to try and alter their bodies, even if it’s for something like a tattoo or piercing. 9S doesn’t feel like he has any reason to do so right now, but that might change in the future. He doesn’t care if others do it. It’s their choice to do what they want with their bodies, as long as they understand the consequences.

🍏 : how stable is my muse’s physical health? do they go for regular or semi-regular checkups by a physician? do they have any diagnosed illnesses and / or take any medication? how often do they get sick?

9S knows maintenance is extremely important, and he is fairly accident-prone it seems. He’s had a limb or two blown off by machines more than once. Although he’s not a Healer unit, he’s gotten used to performing repairs on himself in the field and gets fussy if he has to sit around and wait while someone else fixes him up or checks him for viruses. As an android, he’s immune to biological pathogens, so there’s never any reason to worry about that. Currently he is functioning just fine.

🍎 : how stable is my muse’s mental health? have they been diagnosed with any mental illnesses and / or conditions? do they have any undiagnosed mental illnesses and / or conditions? do they or should they attend therapy?

An android’s mind doesn’t work the same way as a human’s, but it’s still very possible for their data to get scrambled or glitched due to trauma. 9S was supposedly wiped clean after every execution, but that doesn’t mean nothing ever remained, and every time he rediscovered the true reason for his partnership with 2B it became more and more painful to confront.

9S does an excellent job at convincing himself he’s stable, but it’s quite easy to push him over the brink. His emotions are terribly repressed so one needs only to scratch the surface to draw them out. He really should talk to somebody about this but there are no therapists on the Bunker.

🍑 : how meticulously does my muse look after their physical appearance? do they spend a lot of time on their hair, makeup, grooming, and clothing? is there a particular reason why they do or don’t?

9S really likes to be clean! Although it’s not necessary for androids to bathe, since their bodies are naturally resistant to dirt and moisture and they don’t sweat, he doesn’t enjoy getting all dusty or covered in machine oil and will wash himself off the first chance he gets. He finds being dirty very distracting. Keeping one’s dermal layer repaired is a vial part of maintenance as well, so he mends any small cuts or scuffs quickly.

🍒 : how much does my muse value companionship? do they constantly keep people around them, or do they prefer to be alone often? do they have or desire to have many friends? do they see every meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend?

Although Scanners are often solitary, 9S really enjoys being around others and will eagerly socialize with other androids. If only the resistance members wouldn’t stop trying to get him to run errands for them... He’s friendly with the other Scanners and will spend time with them if they’re on the Bunker together, though they seem to hold him at arms’ length for reasons he understands now.

2B is a special case, being his bodyguard of sorts. She could even be considered his best friend, and though his feelings of fondness for her are genuine, they’re very complicated. He’s happy she’s here. He’s also thrilled to be making so many new friends on the islands and does his best to make a good first impression, especially with humans.

🍇 : how would my muse describe their childhood? how much has it impacted the person they are now, or will become as an adult? around what age did they or will they start to mature, and why? do they wish to go back to their days as a child, or have they embraced adulthood?

9S was ‘born’ fully-functional and did not have a childhood of any sort. He didn’t even get to shadow a senior Scanner or anything, he was thrown right to the wolves. Such as it is.

🍐 : how intelligent is my muse overall? are they smarter than the average person, or less than? are they primarily self-taught, or did they acquire most of their knowledge in school? are they more street smart or book smart?

Uncommonly clever and observant, even among his own kind, though prone to making reckless decisions when driven by his emotions or his insatiable desire for answers. 9S has access to vast informational databases he can draw from, even in his own archives, with even more stored on his Pod he could summon at any time... if his Pod was here.

🍉 : which of the four seasons suits my muse best, and why?

Winter. Everything is buried, dormant, appearing quiet and serene on the surface.

🍌 : is my muse inclined to help others, or will they only do it when it benefits them, if at all? what makes them this way? has it ever gotten them into trouble, or inconvenienced them?

9S doesn’t mind helping others, though he can get irritated if given tasks he feels will distract from his mission, or that are boring or too difficult. When it comes to helping the surface androids, they more often than not involve combat with machines and him and 2B risking their lives, which he finds completely annoying, and not fun, but he still does it anyway.

🍊 : does my muse desire romance? is it something they would actively seek out, or prefer to happen more ‘ naturally? ’ what is their love life like? do they have any exes or past flings, or crushes?

Relationships between YoRHa units are officially banned, though the rule is not enforced very strictly. 9S has a hard time comprehending the complexity of romance and prefers not to think about it, perhaps unconsciously convinced he doesn’t deserve to have anybody feel that way about him.

🍓 : how is my muse typically seen by others? does it ring true to who they really are? does their reputation matter to them?

I would imagine, based on his youthful appearance and friendly, earnest demeanor, a lot of people would assume he’s a lot more naive than he really is. 9S lacks a lot of knowledge about how modern society functions, but that’s because he arrived 6,000 years too late to the party. He picks up on things extremely quickly and is quite socially perceptive. Fitting in is important to him, having come from such a conformist culture as YoRHa.

🥝 : does my muse have any ‘ unusual ’ habits, interests, and / or talents? do they hide it, or are they proud of it?

9S is more interested in human culture than most Scanners and especially enjoys collecting human-created media, particularly music, which he stores on his Pod and plays when he’s out scouting. He’s had a great time in Koi renting movies from the library, because entertainment options back home were extremely limited. He’s also gotten into fishing because of 2B.

🍋 : what kind of diet does my muse have? do they eat regularly, or the standard 2-3 meals a day? do they have to be reminded to eat, or are they likely to remind others? do they cook, or have others cook for them? do they eat healthily, or not so much?

As an android, 9S doesn’t require food to live. He can’t feel hunger or satiation. YoRHa units are powered entirely by the reactors in their black boxes, which only require water to function. Most of the time they can get all the fuel they need from vapor in the air they breathe, though in dry climates they’d need to find a water source.

However, eating is an important communal activity, so they have a limited ability to do so. They don’t have stomachs or digestive systems. Any matter they consume is incinerated as soon as it’s swallowed. As a Scanner, 9S can analyze the chemical makeup of things he tastes, so he’s always putting weird shit in his mouth just to see what it’s made of. He enjoys eating with others, especially after difficult missions. It’s relaxing, even if the food is usually terrible because nobody has proper ingredients.

🥭 : how important to my muse is their hometown, or where they’re from? are they proud of it, or considered a hometown hero? did they move away, or do they wish to?

9S doesn’t have a hometown, unless the orbital base he was manufactured on counts. He doesn’t like spending extended amounts of time there, because there’s not much to do, but returning is often required in order to meet with the commander and receive mission details. It’s kinda nice to be able to look down at Earth from space, though...

#headcanon

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singing-robot · 6 years

Note

i was thinking about papyrus today (as one does) and remembered that one scene in the beginning of snowdin where sans asks you to play along papyrus’ puzzles because “he’s been kind of down lately”. and i thought what if deltarune papyrus is inside his house because he’s like at the same point of the timeline and he’s not feeling great? but seeing a human in this universe won’t cheer him up as much

Boy howdy do I love writing essays about discussing Papyrus, which is made possible by viewers like you. Thank you!

Long post ahead, if you don’t want to read all of it, then feel free to look at this diagram, instead!

I am very excited to meet Papyrus all over again, and wrote a lot about the differences in their worlds to compare them and say that, basically, I agree with you.

In UNDERTALE, Papyrus spends a lot of time in his house, as he states himself when leading you there on the Papyrus date. But there’s also evidence of him having quite a few projects outside. He has several traps set up in the woods, and at least one snow sculpture, and realistically painted a rock to look like a wooden bridge. And that’s only in the areas we can see!!

In the long run, though, most of those are meaningless (or fun!) tasks he assigned to himself. The majority of traps for humans could easily be walked around or through. He might even have known that. His super-mega-huge trap of death on the bridge? A human hasn’t fallen in decades, he has no reason to take such extreme (and… kind of impractical?) precautions. (Or does he..? Another theory for another day.) I think those traps are more like excuses to not get bored in the dull little town of Snowdin; and if a human gets stuck in one, awesome!!! It’ll only help him.

Before we fell down, though, I think Papyrus not only became focused on his lack of friends, but also ran out of stuff to do. His computer was left open on a social media site, which he presumably was scrolling through before he came out to meet Sans in the beginning. Spending a lot of time online, especially on a single social media site, can make you feel pretty bad, especially if that becomes your main “activity” of the day (many of us have done this or may be doing it now). If he’s done everything he can think of, perfected all of his plans, and then got into a routine of making sure they stay that way, every day, with few new things… it’s not super great for your person. At least he can hang out with the few friends that he does have, right? Those guys are fun.

I do think Papyrus in deltarune isn’t feeling great, but more so because he starts off with nothing to do. Human-catching traps aren’t necessary. The town is already colorful and beautiful. There’s not a ridiculously long stone slab to realistically paint as wood. The opportunity to drive a car and feel the wind and sun is already available to him. He’s new to town, so he doesn’t have any friends, and didn’t go to a costume party. Undyne doesn’t know the science teacher, much less the new residents. Flowey doesn’t exist. Doggo is nowhere in sight (… actually, none of the dogs are?). The annoying dog is presumably creating a video game in the library’s computer room, undisturbed.

Everyone in Hometown is happy, friends with each other, knows the Dreemurrs, and is so snug and suffocatingly waving-in-the-yard friendly that the concept of trying to make my own place in the community when I can’t even say I work in my family’s new grocery store is terrifying. There’s no way I could fit in, and if I stay inside and avoid everyone for too long, then it’s a never-ending cycle of being too late to join them. Heck, even Catti, the super edgy rebellion teen, has friends and works in the diner.

I mean, going off of my home, Hometown as a whole probably shuts down at 10 PM; unless it’s a midsummer Friday night, then it shuts down at 11:30. It’s not like there’s a variety of activities to do there. We might think the place is quirky and cute and fun to live in because the cop yells at pedestrians and blocks traffic (how funny!), or because a mascot has war chants (he seems fun!), or even because there’s a park where a nameless squid… person… thing… lives (it’s our friend Onion-San!!!). But imagine being there every day, with little variety outside of Mr. Holiday getting sick, Bratty saying Catti got fur in her coffee, or the star kid athlete moving to college.

To me, there is very little appeal to the prospect of living in Hometown (if it were real, that is—but you guys know what I mean). And I… don’t really want do anything? Like, at all? (Collateral damage from growing up here, I’m sure, but still.) But I think I went off on a tangent. My end point is, if Papyrus got bored in Snowdin, despite his friends and increasingly meaningless and time-consuming tasks he could come up with, in a fantasy world where monsters didn’t have a choice in making the best of it, imagine how boring it’d be to live in Hometown, where their imaginations have the same limits and restrictions as our real-life society does. I can’t go out in the woods and construct deadly traps that everyone knows to avoid because I can and will be fined with endangerment, intent to harm, trespassing, etc.

This could also go into a whole other thing about why deltarune is so different and why Kris is the only human (and monster prejudices seem to exist against humans?), but I’m not sure seeing Kris would cheer him up, either. Oh, are we going to hang out with him to be his friend?! That would be really cool, if it weren’t for the fact that Sans all but forces us to go. At least in UNDERTALE, the arrival of a human has the potential to rocket him through the ranks. In Deltarune, the human is already there and doesn’t mean a thing.

So. Yeah. I’m sure Papyrus is pretty miserable in deltarune, and he doesn’t have many ways to fix that problem. This also gives me a neat drawing idea, don’t let me forget.

Also!!! If you’re interested in seeing more deltarune-specific content, I have another side-blog at @singing-ralsei

#did you intend to cause this whole essay you tricky anon #thanks for giving me another opportunity to go off again ehehe #undertale #deltarune #papyrus #singing robopinions #also - disclaimer again - these opinions are impermanent and fun rambles #and ms Macaulay if you are reading this then I hope you’re happy knowing that I’m stuck writing essays for all eternity because of you #you’d give me a C for this I’m sure #bc of a lack of additional provided context and bc I didn’t proofread it #robot answers

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chisie12 · 5 years

Text

Kisame Week Day 3: Blood in the Abyss

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036536/chapters/47871880#workskin

The worldbuilding is going crazy but I don’t know if I’m ever gonna use them all. Sorry it took a while. I hope you enjoy!

Rated: Teen/Up for swearing

~*~*~

“I never thought such a random quest will trigger this.”

“Mm.”

“Are you really getting slack-jawed at this, Beast? It’s a fallen kingdom, a pile of rubble and stones.”

“A golden rubble. How much money can I get if I sell that?”

“You sell that and NPCs will stab your ass.”

A scoff. “As if.”

“Those mermen with shiny stabby sticks might.”

“What mermen –!”

It was a step too near, too close for the comfort of the NPCs. A breach of their borders, even if their sacred kingdom had fallen, they would protect it till their last breath!

Seeing danger approaching, Tailless Beast quickly swam to the side, dodging the valiant charge by the NPC Mermen. As they tried to escape, he couldn’t help but wonder how she had been able to catch sight of the mermen when he was unable to. Ducking under the rubble, Akira and Tailless pushed off the fallen pillar with their legs, briefly increasing the distance between them if only for a little, and with the small extra distance, the two players could finally observe the pursuing NPCs.

Grieving Merman Guard (Level 52)

HP: 280,000/280,000

Tailless Beast pursed his lips, bringing his broadsword up to his side, sick of running away while Akira furrowed her eyebrows. That word was nagging at her mind, magnified and dancing teasingly. Normal NPC monsters would not be named as such, unless...

“Beast, stop!” A forceful tug at Tailless Beast’s large arm interrupted his skill and he shifted his glare from the returning Merman Guards onto the smaller, human figure by his side. His jaw opened, pointy teeth bared in a snarl, the urgency rising higher within him but Akira simply returned it with a deadpanned. “Calm down, will you? You’re always looking for a fight!”

Before the furious Blade Master could retort, Akira had already pulled him out of Atlantis borders and the pursuing Merman Guards immediately halted their bloodthirsty pursuit, stopping a couple of meters shy from them. Up close, they could see the smooth skin of the Mermen, darkened by the black circles and bags under their dull eyes. Scales gleamed, though dull, under the dim shine in the sea from their waist down, revealing hips entirely covered with the same scales that ended in long, thick fish tails instead of legs. In the lore of Eden, it was said that the Merfolk were humans blessed by Suijin, the Water God that presides over all things water, a manifestation from the people’s beliefs of a benevolent presence that resided in the element. And water to them, was the source of life!

With intruders beyond their borders, the Merman Guards relaxed their stances and started to swim back to their positions when a gentle voice called out to them.

“There are no words that I can offer you to ease your grief, but the great land of Atlantis will always be remembered and revered in my heart,” Akira solemnly said. When the two Merman Guards turned around, they saw the Elementalist bow at the waist, long hair softly waving in the water at her lowered head. Moving their spears to their left hand, the guards held out three fingers with their right hand, thumb and little finger folded in, and placed it over their hearts before also lowering their bodies into a low bow, returning her respect with one of their own: The Trident’s Heart, where their king and the land of Atlantis would forever remain in their hearts. Seeing the situation, Tailless Beast gave his respects and bowed as well, but the guards blatantly ignored him and addressed Akira.

“We thank you, kind traveller, for your words. If I may so bold to ask, what is your purpose in visiting Atlantis?”

Akira was silent for a moment as she contemplated her words carefully, before deciding to risk it with the truth, praying that Mermaid Knight Rie was at least someone respected in their ranks since they were both of a similar profession. “I was guided here by Mermaid Knight Rie with the hope that I could uncover the truth behind her death.”

Like a crack on the dam slowly spreading outwards, the guards’ smiles slipped away, eyes widening in agonised disbelief as words tried to crawl out of their trembling lips. “Y-You know... of Her Highness – M-Mermaid Knight Rie?”

Akira sneaked a glance at Tailless Beast, who had turned to look at her too. That little stumble caught their attention, piquing their interest. The Merman Guard was pale as he lowered his head, his friend edging closer and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Before, Rie had been just a mere Mermaid Knight. A Mermaid Knight that, to Akira, was not anyone special, that this quest would be simple enough to complete. Now, however, that simple Mermaid Knight turned out to be – possibly – a princess. A new turn of events, a different perspective. The quest was no longer as simple as they expected. Because in the end, it was different if a mere Mermaid Knight died; her death most likely insignificant, definitely not enough to affect Atlantis’ downfall. But a princess? That was on a whole different level. A princess was, could be, reason enough for the entire fall of the kingdom. And then, thinking about it, if it was a princess... Akira turned to Tailless Beast.

What was a simple quest, now turned to be a complicated plot – their two quests, likely related.

“There’s probably a big boss to fight. Yay for you.” The edges of her lips curled while she sent him a whisper.

And he happily returned it with a toothy grin, “That makes things interesting.”

A soft chuckle under her breath, a small shake of her head and she turned back towards the guards before lowering her head slightly. “I do not personally know of Mermaid Knight Rie. I’ve only been tasked to find out the truth behind her death.”

The two guards stiffened, tails waving in the sea ever so slowly, but Akira noticed that they were inching back bit by bit. “By who?”

Her mouth clammed shut, forehead creased. She couldn’t exactly tell them it was a quest given by the game, but she couldn’t not answer them either. If this continued, the conversation wasn’t going to end well. Unless...

Akira’s head perked up, eyes bright with hope and she lifted her hand, deliberately slow while she observed their reactions. The guards’ faces twisted back into hostility, the grip on their spears tightening as they in return watched her hand suspiciously. They knew of Elementalists, of the magic they hold over the elements, that a mere wave of their hands can control an element’s will and bend it to their desires. Even if the one before them wore red coloured robes that indicated her control over fire, it wouldn’t be surprising if she knew a water spell or two.

Akira’s fingers inched closer to her chest, still agonisingly slow, but extremely careful as they slipped into her robe, little by little, until a cold smooth surface tickled her fingertips and her fingers gently wrapped around it. Words were stuck in her throat, the silence tense and suffocating and heavy, sparking with hostility and wariness, and she looked into the eyes of the guards as she slowly tugged the item out, fingers uncurling to reveal the pearl on the necklace. Mermaid Knight Rie’s Tear.

“T-That...” The Merman Guards had their eyes and mouths dropped open in stunned silence, before they started to tremble, mournful gazes shifting from the pearl to Akira and they swam a little closer, as if to confirm what they saw was true, that it wasn’t the light in the water playing tricks with them.... But the iridescent gleam on the pearl, a shimmering ivory tinted with the colours of the rainbow dancing together, it was real.

It was definitely real. Genuine. Only hers and those of the royal blood could produce that pearl. But was it really Rie’s?

Steeling his resolve, the other guard that had remained silent lifted his head to look at Akira and spoke up, “Kind traveller, may I perform a test to determine its legitimacy?”

“Of course you may, esteemed guard,” Akira agreed immediately. Her hands wound around the back to remove the necklace when a calloused hand, marked and hardened from the years of battle, of wielding the spear to protect his home, stopped her gently with a fleeting touch and the guard graced her with a soft smile and shake of his head. With the same hand floating below the necklace, he flipped it over palm up and waved it around fluidly at the wrist, almost like algae twirling with the currents. Streams of water collected at his fingertips, separating from the sea itself and convening in his palm like a second pocket of water, which swirled up to fully encapsulate the pearl and his hand in a mini globe. Tailless Beast and Akira watched on curiously, wondering silently at the lack of reaction when the guard flicked his thumbnail over his second finger, easily drawing blood with the swift cut, blood that was drawn to the pearl like a moth to a flame. The blood stopped short by the pearl, bobbing sluggishly, its movements growing slower and slower when the pearl gleamed a pale golden glow, like a small star in the sky.

As the golden glow gleamed, the blood slowly started to dissipate, dissolve into nothingness, but it was the wound on the guard’s finger that truly held their attention. That little tiny cut upon hardened skin began to seek each other out, one cut epidermis layer to another, like a pair of long lost lovers finally reuniting and the cut flicked gold, the colour emerging strong at one end and tracing along the cut, where the colour passed was where the gap in the wound welded shut.

Tailless Beast and Akira’s eyes widened further with each passing second as they watched the marvel, surprise evident in their attentive gazes, coming out as murmured gasps escaping under their breaths. There was only one thing they could fathom. If Mermaid Knight Rie was truly a princess and she possessed – possibly the only one who did because why else would the guard wish to check? – the ability of healing, she would have been desired by many, by multiple parties that wanted that power, that in a war, she could possibly, simply, turn the tides of war. Was the entire sea their search site!?

“It... it is, H-Her High – Mermaid Knight Rie’s tear. It is. Oh King Aenon, was this your will?” The guard wailed, sorrow rolling off his cries in waves, agony, relief flooding his system, and he was joined by his partner who sobbed and shook, tremors attacking his robust body.

“I apologise for having to interrupt,” Akira voice out, soft and gentle, just barely audible for the guards to hear, melding into their cries like a soft cloud. “But I hope to succeed with the task I've been entrusted to. May you point us into the direction of Mermaid Knight Rie’s tomb?”

“Y-Yes, honoured guest. Right this way.”

“Thank you, brave men. Is it alright if I brought a guest along?”

“Yes, yes. Of course. As long as the person is a friend of honoured guest, he or she is welcomed.”

Akira looked at Tailless Beast, face half angled towards him with a smile, a small upwards tilt of her lips at a corner with eyes half lidded, full of taunt and confidence. “Hehe.”

Tailless Beast scoffed, strapping his broadsword back onto his back and moved to take a step forward.

[Clear Shadow sent a video message. Click to view.]

The corner of his lips twitched. He averted his gaze to glance at her, hearing the giggle echo in his mind.

“Aww, not going to open it, Beast?”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever you say.”

He watched her walk away, following after the Merman Guards who waited upon her. He glanced back at the message as he fell into step behind her, curious and dreading the content. They swam through the rubble, past the golden kingdom, clean from any red algae that would grow in these deep waters with only colourful corals littering the ground. The journey was in silence, the guards occasionally pausing and looking back, waiting for Akira to catch up before continuing once again. Tailless Beast felt the curiosity return in the endless silence following them.

“Tch.”

He tapped on the message, opening the video and immediately after, a loud, lilt voice blared in his ears as the man started singing: “Never gonna give you up; Never gonna let you down –!”

Akira twitched when she felt a heavy stare on her back, only to find Tailless Beast glaring at her heatedly. With a knowing giggle, she waved and kicked her legs harder to catch up to the guards. A growl rumbled at the back of his throat as he chased after her grumpily.

Soon, they left the borders of the kingdom, leaving the plains covered in red algae and towards a rocky area. Every now and then, schools of small marine life would swim past the group and without fail, they would swim nearer to Akira, butting their heads at her midriff, wishing to be pet, tails wagging almost like excited pups. The guards would always watch with a smile, tinged with sadness as Akira traced her fingers along the fishes, sometimes even letting them nibble on her fingertips. They never rushed her, never voiced out their impatience, only waited wordlessly, almost in obeisance, whereas Tailless Beast scooted further, watching the scene with an unexplainable emotion.

“I'm sorry! I don’t know why this is happening!” Her mellifluous laughter rang clear, glee infectious as the three men felt their lips curving wide.

“We’re going to take forever to reach the tomb,” Tailless Beast grumbled under his breath, fingers itching for a battle.

The guards shook their heads before waving them to continue. “The tomb is not far now.” The light dimmed and tall rock formations appeared in their vision after a few more moments of swimming, and they came upon a small cave’s mouth, dark and cold. An aura of resentment leaked out the entrance in black tendrils, eerily waving them around in a dark welcoming.

[You have discovered The Azure Garden Grotto.]

“This? Is where the tomb is?” Akira was sceptical. The underwater cave didn’t resemble a tomb at all.

“To answer honoured guest,” one of the guards clasped his hands and bowed, “This is indeed where Mermaid Knight Rie was buried. King Aenon had gifted this place to her on her 18th birthday and it was where she wished to be buried at if s-she passed on. As written in her will.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

“Then, we will take our leave.” The Merman Guards bowed and left.

Akira watched the cave, the dark entrance a deep void where no light passed. Tailless Beast frowned. “What are you waiting for?”

“Calling a few friends over,” she replied simply.

“What? Why!” he growled. More people meant more shares, more shares meant that his share will have to be reduced! The area before them was unexplored land, treasure for all to take, mobs to kill, experience to gain.

“You can go ahead if you want.” She bowed slightly and gestured welcomingly for him to go ahead, and he did without a glance back.

He walked past her towards the cave’s mouth, through the darkness, only to be rebounded and forced back by an unknown, unseen force. She reached out a hand to steady his staggering steps.

[You do not meet the requirements to enter.

Party members: Minimum 5 members; Maximum 10 members.

Party level: Minimum Level 40; Maximum Level 45]

“What the fuck?”

Akira shrugged with a mischievous smile when he redirected his wrath onto her. “My friends should be here soon. I've sent them the coordinates.”

Tailless Beast leaned against a rock, scowling at having to wait some more when he remembered something. “Can they even make it here?”

With a shake of her head, she could only smile helplessly. “I hope so. The coordinates triggered the system just now and I think they’re – ” Three separate balls of light suddenly appeared, glowing brighter and brighter as water surged towards the element. Faint silhouettes flickered within. “ – teleporting here.”

Tailless Beast straightened himself while his hand moved to grip his broadsword, a familiar shadow amongst the silhouette giving him uneasy feelings, yet the closer he observed the figures under the dimming light, his lips were pursed tight and muscles taut. “You know them?”

Akira glanced over at him, noting the icy chill in his deep voice, unlike the usual growls and snarls he’s bestowed upon her so far. No, this was a silky, smooth tone, calm and unnerved, almost so calm that she shuddered involuntarily. She turned back to the three men that appeared before them. “You could say that.”

“Wasn’t he chasing you down just yesterday?” Tailless Beast nodded his chin at the Earth Elementalist Misty Forest who now stood wielding his wand at Level 43. The hell happened to him too? How did he power level up?

Akira laughed nervously as Misty Forest – Yamato – found his wand particularly intriguing. “Yes, he was but we settled our differences.”

“And him?”

His tone was flat, unyielding in the slightest as he gestured at the Level 45 Shadow Hunter, the first advancement of the Ninja class, School Beauty King. The man wore a mask that covered the lower half of his face, silvery grey hair spiked up, defying gravity even under water. She and Shadow Hunter exchanged glances. ‘What the fuck did Kakashi do to piss him off?’ With a smile and a tilt of her head, she looked at Tailless Beast in confusion. “What about him? Have you guys met before?”

“Yes,” came the snarl almost immediately. “He goddamn stole my drops!”

Kakashi stared at Tailless Beast. “Ahh, I remember you now. Thanks for the Ivory Shells that time.”

A growl ripped through the large blue man’s throat as he instantly lunged at the Shadow Hunter with his broadsword drawn. Kakashi easily sidestepped the attack and Tailless Beast swung his arm out horizontally, only for a much smaller, more fragile wand to meet its blade head-on. Akira grunted in a grimace as the force of his strength threw her backwards, the wand’s durability dropping to 2.

His small black eyes met her pained blue ones and a phantom image flashed over her countenance; a similar face, the long navy hair tied into a ponytail, the flower kanzashi tinkling with the breeze, and the anger dissipated, a trace of worry flashing through them. “A-Are you...” Words had escaped his lips, soft, gentle, and he then clammed his mouth shut. Uncertain. Confused. But he resolutely shot forward still in that moment, reaching out his other hand and caught onto her arm. He brought her near, steadying her on her feet.

“He can be a little arrogant,” Akira coughed as she gripped onto Tailless Beast’s arm, “But I swear he's a good Shadow Hunter, Beast.”

He pulled his arm back, the warmth of her palm lingering upon his skin and he turned his head. “Whatever. As long as he doesn’t slow us down.”

[Clear Shadow invited you to her party. Accept? Reject?]

Glancing at her wide grin from the corner of his eyes, he shook his head and accepted the request.

[Tailless Beast joined your party!]

[Misty Forest joined your party!]

[School Beauty King joined your party!]

[Good Boy Tobi joined your party!]

Tailless Beast observed the latest member. She was a level 42 Cleric, a branch of the White Elementalist class. The White Elementalist and Black Elementalist, unlike the normal elemental classes, were unique where the former focused on: Summoning magic, Healing magic or Bless Magic, while the latter concentrated on Illusion Magic, Necromancy or Curse Magic. And unlike other classes of warrior, rogue or ranged whose first class advancements were at level 20, Elementalists had their first advancements at level 45 after choosing their first element at level 10.

“Hello!” Good Boy Tobi greeted cheerily with a wave of her hand and grin on her face, but the voice that sounded...

Tailless Beast suppressed the twitch in his eyes. She... Good Boy Tobi... was a he? He looked up and down the female character, dark luscious locks a stark contrast against her white robes, then glanced at Clear Shadow and shook his head. He wished he was more surprised by that fact but with someone as weird as her, it wasn’t all that surprising anymore.

“How long can you guys stay underwater?” Akira asked the three newcomers who were breathing easily underwater.

“We managed to buy only twelve Oxygen Pearls,” Obito, who played Good Boy Tobi, chimed in. “We’re already using three.”

“And they last for two hours each pearl,” Yamato tacked on at the end. “So we have roughly eight hours.”

“They cost us a lot too! Why the hell are Oxygen Pearls so expensive...” Obito grumbled under his breath.

“How close are you to levelling up?” Akira turned to Kakashi, ignoring the grumbling man.

“I just levelled up to 45. It should take a while.”

She nodded, less worried than before. If he levelled up in the dungeon and they couldn’t complete it... ah, it was too troublesome to think.

“Are we ready to go in or not?” Tailless Beast interjected, directing the question at a blankly staring Akira.

“Maa, does it look like we have other things to do?” Kakashi folded his arms behind his head and walked forward while Akira snapped back to reality.

“No one asked you, pretty boy,” Tailless Beast snarled and quickly hurried from behind.

Yamato and Obito smiled, following suite as Akira walked first into The Azure Garden Grotto, unimpeded. Past the complete darkness, a large cavern meters high and wide sparkled, lit by an azure- emerald light, a rare sight of bioluminescence as they swam through the water.

Suddenly, a black shadow flashed past them in a blur, screeching in an agonised, despairing wail.

Avenging Spirit (Level 40)

HP: 15,000/15,000

“The monster isn’t even strong,” Tailless Beast tutted.

That’s when a system notification appeared.

[Stage 1. Kill 100 Avenging Spirits. 0/100 killed.]

A feral grin flitted onto his face as he held his broadsword ready. Pulling his arm back, ready to hack at the taunting monster when a dragon whose flesh and body was made of water slammed directly into the Avenging Spirit. Kakashi released his hands and swam around the monster.

-6,589! A critical hit!

The Avenging Spirit wailed louder, its icy voice piercing their minds and a bright light enveloped Tailless Beast, immediately dispersing the stunning effect. Purification! Kicking his legs, he pulled his arms back, muscles of both his hands taut as he gripped the handle tight. With a cry, he cleaved the Avenging Spirit in two before spinning and slicing the shadow at its head with his second slash.

“Hehe, this is going to be fun.” Akira grinned toothily and waved her right hand just as an entire mob of Avenging Spirits appeared, covering the beautiful cavern in black clouds. Elements of water started surging towards her palm and she brought her other hand forward, running it horizontally before her chest, from her right hand to the left, and water surged together, converging by her palm and it grew, lengthening as though she was pulling a something out from her hand. The sword manifested itself from water, both sides sharp as the water constantly circulated to maintain its shape.

“You gotta work hard, Obito,” chirped Akira just as Yamato started chanting an Earth Spell. “Can’t let those spirits get us.”

“But I don’t have that many blessing spells like a Priest!” Obito mockingly shrieked in horror, hands palming either side of his feminine appearance, only to quickly glance at something from the corner of his eyes and calmly waved his hand out at Tailless Beast, enveloping the man once more in a bright white light, healing him. There was a carefree smile lingering on his face.

“You’re doing a good job though,” Akira grinned as she joined the fray. A thick branch gurgled, shooting past her body and speared through an Avenging Spirit rushing towards her. She lashed out with her water blade and sliced the face, causing it to screech in a dying wail.

“You can count on me!” Obito chuckled, staying close to Yamato.

The quieter man was chanting once again, sets of archaic runes muttered from his lips while his other hand focused on controlling the branch he summoned, swinging and wreaking havoc as he pleased. One syllable, two syllables, and an emerald light shone in the side pouch hanging on his hip. A few seeds floated out, dropping onto the ground right beside where the first branch took root and they rapidly grew. Thick and sturdy, the Branch Dragons took the form of snakes, ready to skewer some spirits. There would occasionally be a flash of white light or two around the battlefield, more healing than purifying the members, but their health constantly danced at the same level, never below 65%.

Tailless Beast glanced over at Akira, more specifically staring at the water sword in her hand. “Aren’t you an Elementalist?”

“I am. Just a little bit special,” she winked as she stabbed at a spirit sneaking up behind him.

He stretched out his arm, piercing the head of another spirit chasing after her. “You’re weird. A sword using Elementalist?”

“Admit. I look cool,” she laughed, planting a foot at the spirit and kicking it away.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, but she caught a glimpse of a lopsided smile upon his lips when she twirled around, seeing him bring his sword down on another kill.

It took them a little over an hour to fully clear the 100 Avenging Spirits.

The second stage began. And the third, and fourth. Each stage’s killings increased exponentially, each stage the spirits a level higher than before. When the fifth stage came about six hours after, when Kakashi, Yamato and Obito ate their last oxygen pearl, they were all tired and grumpy at the mindless killings. However, despite their first dungeon run together, they worked well together, almost like a good oiled machine (and Obito will argue saying that it’s because of his perfect heals that they’re good!).

The enchanting scenery did nothing to quell the annoyance, even when they saw lights akin to fireflies floating in the water, swimming freely when they finally neared the end of the dungeon. Not only did killing one spirit give such pitiful experience, this dungeon was simply too mind numbing! Kakashi wasn’t even near 50% in his experience bar!

...

[Stage 5. Kill 50 Avenging Spirits. 0/50 killed.]

“Ahhh! Finally!!” Obito cried out. “I don’t have any mana pots left. I just want this over with! I'm not going on anymore special quests with you, Shadow!”

��How many do you have? I’ll give you some,” Akira asked as they tried to catch a breather. “And come on. Without me, you can't even come here. We’ll be getting first clear.”

“Only two intermediate pots and a few basic ones left,” he sighed dejectedly. He had stocked up on lots of potions before he entered as a precaution, but this dungeon had eaten up lots of his mana as he tried to keep everyone’s health stable. Those spirits can be quite annoying to deal with but it was more annoying to deal with his teammates that loved charging into the freeway without second thoughts. “And no, you guys suck.”

If the others purposely ignored him or didn't hear, he didn't know.

“Take some, I’m not using as much mana.”

Obito gratefully accepted the dropped potions, animated tears streaking down his face while the group continued forward, their killings evidently slower when a high pitched screech rumbled through the waters at their 49th kill. The shrill sound stabbed their minds, forcing them on a seven second stun.

Tailless Beast at this moment observed his skills that were on cooldown while stunned and a message popped up from Akira.

[Clear Shadow sent you an image. Click to preview.]

‘Might be a clue to the quest!’ he thought and frantically opened the message, only to scowl at the sad green frog and the words ‘feels bad man’ written below it. He glared at the scene happening before them without moving his head, seeing as he couldn’t move yet due to the stun, all the while pretending that it was Akira getting stabbed at with his glaring daggers.

At the next second of the stun, black tendrils emerged from the corpses of the Avenging Spirits, converging together into a huge lump of ink. At the third second of the stun, they watched as the gigantic Avenging Spirit loomed over them. Unlike the previous spirits that lacked a face on their heads, this one only had a crescent slit that was curved like a bowl, silvery sharp and wide. It grinned, revealing many rows of pointed teeth arranged neatly, and lifted its arms where two claws similar to reptiles flexed. Curling and uncurling its fingers, a maniacal cackle echoed in their minds.

[You've been inflicted with Hatred of the Spirit. All stats reduced by 20%.]

A grey ghostly skull appeared above their heads and the entire party felt their bodies grow heavier, strength and speed weakened.

Avenging Spirit (Elite) Level 45

HP: 200,000/200,000

“Ah, fuck.”

Obito and Akira exchanged bitter smiles at the Elite Boss taunting them; the former worried at how heavy his job would be as his heals would be reduced significantly with the curse while the damage taken would increase, and the latter

At the fourth second, the Elite boss slowly raised its hands as though it was lifting something and a dark murky blob reached out from way below, appearing from the crevices of the rocks, cackling from the shadows while they latched onto the team’s feet, steadily pulling them down into the abyss as they retreated back into their abode.

-100!

A continuous string of damage ticked away at their health but they could do nothing to escape, not with the final three seconds of the stun still in effect. Their hearts pounded loudly in their chest, screams of protest banging loudly in their minds – just how broken was this boss!?

So much happened in such a short span of time and they were forced to be sitting ducks, watching their fate before their very eyes.

‘No, no, no. Like hell I'm falling like this!’ Tailless Beast struggled against the stun, willing his body to move. Robust muscles bulged, taut and defined while veins crawled under his skin. He tightened his grip on the sword, yet his fingers never moved. The fifth second passed. His eyes shifted to the side, catching Akira’s fiery gaze coincidentally, both sides unwilling to give up. No way were they going to be bested by a damn boss. Not when they just started on this quest!

Simultaneously, two gentle lights shone from their chests.

‘The necklace!’ they thought.

Fuelled further by their will, the light suddenly broke, dissipating into tiny shards flickering in the light that enveloped the pair. The tenseness of their muscles loosened, a heavy weight pushed off their shoulders. Akira gripped onto her sword, running a hand over the blade as she called forth another wave of water, making it surge towards her weapon. With a graceful twirl, she lashed out her sword, elongated by a few meters as it sliced the water with a shrill sound. The Elite boss cried out in pain, charging forward in retaliation when a thick silver blade halted its advance. Tailless Beast sliced and slashed with all the strength and brute force of a berserker, his movements oddly smooth in the water, connecting swiftly and efficiently as he took on the boss’ aggro.

With the stun over after seven seconds, Yamato began chanting, calling upon the soggy dead wood lying on the ground. Kakashi turned to face the black tendrils dragging them down while his hands became a blur in a series of hand signs. At the last hand sign, he pulled down his mask for the briefest of moments as he spat out a large water bullet, the force strong enough to knock them astray. The dead wood floated up. Pointing his wand at the tendrils in the abyss, the Wood Arrows swam and pierced the monster, causing it to shriek and run away into the shadows where they couldn't touch it anymore.

Obito held the cross with both hands as he chanted out a spell, the holy light surrounding him growing stronger by the second. The light travelled from his body to his outstretched arm, trailing around it like a coiling snake before it shot forth, a pair of feathery wings unfurling from its back.

Level 40 Healing Angel, his newest skill in his arsenal. It flew around the cavern, continuously healing the entire until the thirty second timer was up, negating the damage done by the Elite boss.

Handing off a few seeds to Kakashi, Yamato watched Akira and Tailless Beast pin the Elite boss down while his senior quickly swam around, planting the seeds in the small crevices of the rock walls. The last location of their fight was at a smaller cavern that narrowed near the end, with an arched roof filled with stalactites and large stalagmites on the bottom.

‘This place must have been on land before it was sunken underwater,’ Yamato thought, knowing that stalactites and stalagmites couldn’t form underwater, but could stay underwater for a long time as they slowly dissolved back into the water. He caught Kakashi’s signal as the man planted the last seed and he started chanting. Magic ripples surged around him, robes dancing around him quicker and quicker. Multiple green lights pulsed at different points in the walls, answering to his call. Leaves sprouted out of the seeds, stems unfolding from their abode and they charged towards the Elite boss fearlessly, winding around its large body in a tight grip.

Earth Lock!

The three damage dealers swam back, landing on small platforms in the walls as the sturdy branches tightened the hold, unyielding even when the Elite boss struggled hard against the restraints.

“I can only hold it for three seconds!” Yamato called out. His face was twisted in a grimace, veins appearing on his forehead while he fought to hold his skill.

Akira, Tailless Beast and Kakashi shot forward at the same time, the strength from their calves travelling to their feet as they pushed off the walls on their toes, weapons drawn and skills activating. They unleashed their strongest moves, attacking at the weaker spots like the neck, spine and skull, praying, hoping that the spirit would register the extra damage like ordinary beasts.

-9,731! A critical hit!

-5,054!

-9,352! Another critical hit!

-5,571!

-3,899!

-2,421!

“Can you guys stop critting and making me look bad?” Akira laughed while she flipped back and retreated a distance away, landing solidly on her feet when the Elite boss broke free, large splinters and wood chips flying towards them, and his health firmly dropped below 75%. “This would be much easier if our stats weren’t lowered.”

“Well, you can’t exactly use your fire magic, Shadow,” said Kakashi, “And you are playing with a toothpick.”

“This toothpick can kill you, okay!”

With a cry, the Avenging Spirit swam towards Tailless Beast who sent a blade light crashing into its body but the spirit suddenly turned translucent and the attack passed right through. “What?” Instinctively, he brought the blade up to his face, parrying the claw aimed at his head. A pressure built up in his chest when the force slammed into him, instantly sending him crashing down onto the bottom and he sprayed out a mouthful of blood.

“Beast!”

Akira swam forth, stabbing her sword through the spirit, but like Tailless Beast’s, her sword went through as though it was only water.

“Watch out!

She refocused onto the Avenging Spirit a beat too slow. A sharp pain burned from the inside, spreading out through her veins. Her gaze grew blurry, the lump in her throat hard and heavy as she gritted her teeth. The spirit pulled its arm back, bringing the impaled Elementalist closer to its face. She blinked her eyes with a grimace, forcing her vision to sharpen and she saw, in a slow, slow curl, the spirit widened its grin in a dark satisfaction, the silvery teeth bright against its black face. Its arm was cold to the touch, slimy yet rough when it was pulled out, tips of the claws scratching deeper into her exposed skin and she spat out a fog of blood as the pressure caught in her throat was released.

“Shadow!!”

Crimson blood slithered in the water, a dark red cloud tainting the beautiful waters of the grotto and Akira floated lifelessly in the water. Seeing its masterpiece, the Avenging Spirit laughed joyously while it swam around the blood, occasionally flicking out a tongue to lick at it, tasting the iron taste upon its taste buds.

An earthquake soon rumbled across the cavern. Tailless Beast quickly jumped and swam away, narrowly avoiding the broken falling stalactites. A deep guttural snarl rumbled through the walls, vibrating loud and clear, and the team felt their bodies stiffen. A large silhouette appeared at the end of the cavern, fast approaching the fight. They held their breaths in fear, feeling suffocated by the overwhelming presence rolling off its figure. Out of the shadows and into the gleaming waters appeared a four-meter-long great white shark, its size easily dwarfing the Avenging Spirit. Silver armour adorned its robust body, enhancing the strong aura rolling off its figure.

Spirit of Sharkman Kelo (Elite) Level 80

HP: 760,000/760,000

“Ah, fuck.”

#kisameweek2019 #Day3Prompt2 #modern game au #kisamexoc #gamer!kisame

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