#my mom would for sure tell my f*ther!!!

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Okay going to get myself run over now

[kbim]

Every Hero Has Their End(SWF)

During hero training at U.A, Y/N gets a disturbing phone call from home. And Bakugou Katsuki is there to soothe them however he can.

Warnings: Death, Established relationship, Comfort

PSA: I will be trying my best to make this a Gender-neutral and Quirk-Neutral Fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103730/chapters/69066837#workskin

      I've found out that the world is the most peaceful whenever I'm training at school; Watching as my classmates shout encouragements to each other, and knowing that right now, we are all oblivious to the chaos and bloodshed happening outside of these gym doors. Oblivious to how fast heroes are losing their grip on what faith the public has in them, and since All Might has stepped down they are losing it even faster.

"Oi, dumbass. You just gonna sit there and mope like an extra or are you gonna let me beat your ass to a pulp?" And this was my favorite part, the unbreakable wall of angry optimism; Bakugou. When I looked to face him he had poor Izuku in a headlock and was practically dragging him on the floor, Izuku was muttering about some kind of suit upgrade or maybe it was All Might? With him, it's always one of the two. "Cause this shitty nerd won't stop holding back."

I quickly flipped bakugou off. "Ya know that you don't need to call everyone names, it just makes you seem more like a kid" As I walked up to the pair I peeled Izuku from Bakugou's grasp, letting him drop to the floor. "And haven't you bullied Izuku enough." I reached my hand out to help him up. As he held onto my hand I could feel Bakugou's glare, he always hated it whenever I did 'relationship things' with other people. Even though this was just me helping the beating bag up.

"Thanks Y/N" Izuku quickly quipped out as he started whipping the dust and dirt off of his hero costume, unaware that he was still holding my hand. I didn't really care, I knew it was just an accident but I could feel Bakugou's glare shift down to where we were touching. He quickly stomped over and grabbed my wrist, ripping ti away from Izuku's.

"Tch. I thought I told you to stop touching TRASH." As Bakugou pulled you towards him he made sure that the last word was directed at Izuku, making sure it came off harsher. Izuku took the hint and left, quickly finding his squad over the other side of the gym. I gave a soft wave in his direction, as I did I could hear Bakugou huff and puff.

"You really need to work on your passiveness, I and Izuku are just friends. You know I have no interest in our class-mates." I patted his chest as I walked by him, going to continue my endurance training. Even though I was daydreaming and not really training, as I kicked at the rouble I made Bakugou came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. placing my arms on top of his I leaned into him. "And don't worry, the term 'Class-mate' extends to all of the other classes as well." That earned a small chuckle from him.

"As your boyfriend, I have the right to mark you as mine, AND to keep shitty nerds away from you." He moved his hands away from me and turned me to face him, as I looked up to him I spotted multiple spots where Izuku had hit him. I would never say it to his face but, Izuku isn't the little weak kid that he knew before U.A. "And anyways I really wanted to fight someone on MY level." At that his face morphed into a large smirk, he grabbed onto my shoulders and threw me to the left. I wasn't prepared for such a movement and landed on my side.

"Dude, WHAT THE FUCK?!" Leaning onto my elbow, I looked at him. "You could at least give me a god damn warning" He quickly stalked over to me and stood over me.

"Nah."

Well, what a wonderful boyfriend... If he wanted a fight I'll give him a fight. I leaned back and kicked my legs up behind him, which kicked him over my head. As my legs held their momentum I flipped over to lay on my hands, laying in a lower push-up position. As he landed on his hands he activated his quirk and flipped to land on his feet unharmed. I went to activate my quirk to push me onto my feet but I found myself unable to use it. When I looked over to Bakugou he was wrapped up in Mr.Aizawa's capture 'scarf'. I got up to walk over to the pair.

"Y/N, you have a phone call. And next time please make sure to silence your cellular device during school, it interrupted my nap." He handed me my phone, which was showing an active call from my mother. "Now please don't make me have to get up again"

As he turned and started walking away he let go of Bakugou and deactivated his own quirk. "THANK YOU SENSAI!" I pulled the phone up to my face and quickly greeted my mother.

"Hey Y/N, h-how are you?" I could hear the presentation in her voice.

"Um, I'm a good mom. Not to rush you but what's with the call during school?"

"*Sigh* Well, I and your father just got the news that..... That ..." I grumbled, she knew not to call me during class and this was just taking too long.

"What do you NEED mom?" Oof, that came out kinda harsh.

"Oh, um. I just wanted to tell you, that. Your brother was fighting a villain downtown, and that. . . The villain delivered an a-a fatal blow to his head. And t-that when the other h-heros f-f-found him he w-was pronounced d-d-d-dead on arrival."

I heard my phone hit the ground, and I could feel myself drop to my knees. I don't recall telling my body to do so but my hand slapped over my mouth as I started sobbing. This couldn't be true, my elder brother had just gotten out of hero school and was fighting with the pros. They couldn't have failed him like that.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Y/N was on the phone Kirishima had walked over to me, scolding me for the 'unmanly' move I pulled on Y/N. Saying a true man doesn't attack like that. I didn't care too much about it, in the heat of battle, a hero does everything they can to stop the villain. He doesn't have to be manly about it, he just has to get the job done. As I peaked around Shitty Hair I could see you drop your phone and fall onto your knees. Tears were streaming down your face, I could hear the muffled sobs from all the way over here.

As I grabbed Shitty Hair's shoulder a pushed him to the side, with much less force as when I did it to you earlier. I couldn't control what pace I was going at but I felt my feet hit the ground as I ran towards you. When I got closer to you I slid onto my knees to slow myself down, it was quite effective If I must say.

"Y/N?! What's wrong? Why are you crying?!" I pulled you into my chest and reached for your phone. The screen was cracked but I could still see the call active. I brought it up to my face. "Who are you and what the hell did you say to Y/N?!"

"I-i'm their mother, and I-I h-had informed them t-t-that their brot-t-ther had d-d-died in combat with a v-vll--ian today." Oh Shit. I hung up the phone and wrapped my arms around y/n, they sobbed into my hero suit. When the others run up around us I tightened my grip onto y/n.

"As the class rep, I deserve to know when one of our classmates are in trouble" "Bakugou! What's wrong with y/n?" "Did they get hurt?" "Oh shit man" "What should we do? "What happened?" "Kacchan What happened? "I bet Bakugou said something to them." "Ribbit, I'll get Mr. Aizawa"

"Back the FUCK off, they brother just fucking died man." y/n tensed up and started sobbing louder. I followed my brow and squeezed them. "Shit" I moved you to rest against my chest sideways and moved my arm to hold your bridal style. I stood up and pushed through the extras and made my way towards the gym doors. I could feel their tears soaking my suit, they gripped and released the loose cloth as a stepped through the doors. I could hear the others call after me but I had to intention of stopping for them.

When I got up from my room at the dorms and placed them down onto the bed. As I laid down next to them I covered us both with the blankets.

[cottoncandyreaper]

((I don't think I went through and did edits for this section...sorry in advanced 😂 second part of Undertale story))

He always claimed there was nothing left but I didn't believe him for one second! Settling at the bottom with the doors opening to darkness I stepped out without another thought so use to the sight but the slight whimpering from the elevator said not many people cared for the dark and stopped me in my advancement.

"Guys, I promise nothing is going to jump out and get you. I've done this so many times and it's always fine. Look, maybe this will help."

It didn't illuminate far but just enough as magic flooded my eyes and a simple bone appeared in my hand. It was probably the coolest glow stick around.

"Plus this thing can do damage too! So it's light and defense!"

One hit point of damage but they didn't need to know that part; Nicole stepped out first taking my empty hand and squeezed while waving the others out.

"Come on, the sooner we start walking the faster we get out of this place."

"Yeah, there's another elevator that takes us up and then out to hot land!"

Kloey had to tug Macie along linking hands and forming a human chain.

"F-fine...but make this a fast walk!"

Knowing that Macie was scared of something almost seemed like a useful weapon at school if she ever caused more issues and I was happy to use black mail if needed. With a slight pull we started on as I held the purple glowing bone out away from me lighting up the floor and some ahead of us; papers scattered everywhere and some trash but nothing to dramatic. I waved the bone around the sides showing off that there were just boxes and nothing more even in the direction of places I wanted to explore there wasn't much at all...one super big box but I couldn't open that even if I tried.

"Whats all in these boxes anyway Winny?"

Kloey spoke softly so not to startle anyone as we had mainly walked in the quiet.

"Parts, scraps of ther projects and unneeded tools. Alphys comes down here if she really needs something and knows it's been packed away but other then her most of these will probably go to waste."

"Why not give them to the humans?"

"Because we got these from a human. There's a big trash dump somewhere and that's where all of these were scavenged from."

"Oh...so humans were, dumping into the mountain for a long time."

"Yeah sadly."

She stopped there letting the silence join our company again for a bit more until we all screamed when Macie screamed so blood curdling I thought she was hurt.

"Something touched my leg! Oh my god something touched my leg!"

She ran around releasing her hold on Kloey to hide behind me grabbing my shoulders and shaking me.

"Kill it!"

"Macie stop!"

I hurt her elbowing into her ribs but it was the furthest issue from my mind as I turned and glared.

"Will you relax!? There is nothing here that can hurt you! It was probably just a piece of paper fluttering up from us walking and creating a breeze!"

"N-no!"

She was actually on the verge of tears shaking like a leaf when Kloey came around and held her.

"T-there were fingers! I f-felt at least two fingers brush my ankle!"

"There is literally no possible-"

"👇📫♒♏⚪◽📬📬📬"

((H-help...))

The girls screamed again but I panicked, wingdings, I knew them well given the fact that it was the only other language I knew and the only language Daddy and Uncle Papy knew besides English. He taught me that it was our family's language and I loved that I knew it. To the human hear it probably sounded like jumbled up backwards talking but to me it sounded like...home.

"🕈☟⚐ ✋💧 ❄☟☜☼☜?"

((Who is there?))

"Winny...w-what are you doing!? H-how do you know that it's staying!?"

Macie grabbed my arm shaking me but I yanked free as Nicole answered for me as I stepped away slowly towards the voice.

"You guys don't talk to her as much as I do or have...Winny's first language isn't English obviously since she's a monster kid. It's Wingdings."

"Wingdings?"

At least Kloey was calm as Nicole contiuned.

"Its just a language for her, her Dad and Uncle. From what she's told me no one else knows it."

No one else was suppose to know it so that's why hearing it here in the lab was just as terrifying. Did Daddy find out and come to cut us off and get hurt? But that...voice didn't sound like his. It was deeper and in pain or just so low on magic it hurt.

"👍✌☠ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☠💧🕈☜☼ 💣☜✍"

((Can you answer me?))

"✡📫✡☜💧"

((Y-yes))

I could feel coldness sliding up my back like a hand aiming for my neck as I released the bone letting it float further ahead illuminating close to the ground and finding someone I never knew, never saw even amongest the other monsters and I wondered if Daddy or Uncle Pap knew him. I thought they were also the only skeleton monsters around yet the ones laying on the floor on his back looking like he got ran over by a truck. His skull had cracks in it that seemed old so at least they weren't something to worry about. There were holes in his hands that layed limp on the ground scuffed up slightly from where he had fallen and dirt all over his clothes. He was a mess but he was alive who ever it was.

"✡📫✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜📬📬📬☟🕆💣✌☠"

((Y-you are...human))

"☟✌☹☞ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 👌🕆❄ ✡☜💧📬 ✋💣 ☝⚐✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ☟☜☹🏱 ✡⚐🕆 ⚐😐✌✡✍"

((Half human but yes. I'm going to help you okay?))

He looked so weak and I think I saw just a bit of annoyance in his eye sockets as they looked me over but he was definitely not in a position to deny any help regardless.

"Winny..."

Nicole stepped closer laying her hand on my shoulder as she knelt down at my side.

"Sorry but, can you really help him?"

"Yeah I can...I have too. Sorry guys, tour is cut off early either way it seems."

I could hear Macie grumble as Kloey only nodded as I turned my attention back to the skeleton who's breaths came out as pained groans. Hovering my hands over his chest not knowing fully where he was actually hurt a soft green glow emitted slowly whisping around my skin and floated down into his shirt towards the bones hidden behind it.

"Whats that? Is that...your magic?"

Macie came towards me slowly probably wanting to be closer to the light it gave off yet still far enough from the unknown monster so it couldn't touch her.

"Its healing magic that Uncle Pap taught me. He's alot better at using it though so what ever I'm able to do can probably only be enough to make him more conscious."

His head rolled to look at me more directly from the corner of my eye as I looked up to Nicole with slight frown.

"I guess you should have stolen your mom's phone after all for this adventure."

"Yeah...but hey, at least we can all help carry him out if he can't walk."

I was glad Nicole was so nice and was a human that would prefer to befriend all the monsters then be scared or disgusted by them unlike some other people I knew.

"🏱🚩✌🏱🚩📬📬📬👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 💣☜✌☠📪 🏱🚩✌🚩🏱✡☼🕆💧✍."

((Pap...do you mean Papyrus?))

I met his eye sockets with a small smile and nod.

"☟☜ ✋💧 💣✡ 🕆☠👍☹☜📬 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 😐☠⚐🕈 ☟✋💣✍"

((He is my uncle. Do you know him?))

His sockets widened noticeably enough as it seemed he was finally looking at me for real, his once fuzzy and unfocused eye lights steady.

"☟☜ ✋💧 💣✡ 💧⚐☠"

((He is my son))

"What?..."

I couldn't even answer back in wingdings feeling his words jump around my head with how for sure he just spoke them. Neither of them ever talked about their parents; I asked Daddy alot when I was younger if I had any grandparent's even and now that I thought on all the interacts he always seemed sad or confused. Like he tried to remember fully but he just...wasn't able too. And he seemed so quick to contiune adding on to the shock some more.

"Papyrus...and Sans...they are my sons...I haven't seen them for, a very long time I think."

"You think?"

He groaned getting the strength suddenly to move wanting to sit up as I stopped the magic and helped him to move till he could lean back against some boxes.

"You may not know much about healing magic...but it's stronger then you think..."

"So it's...helping?"

"Yes...thank you."

I was relieved that I was doing enough to help him and knew I could focus on the new information that still wasn't fully connecting.

"So you're their Dad...they never, talked about you..."

He hummed softly closing his sockets leaning his head back flexing his phalanges and moving his legs around like he was testing their function. Kloey, Nicole and Macie all sat around and behind me like backup incase something happened even if they couldn't do anything even if it did.

"What is your name?"

"Tell me yours and I'll share mine."

He chuckled some opening one eye that swirled with purple magic similar to my own.

"I don't even have to check your soul to know you are Sans daughter...he was always one to be suspicious of others on first meeting...my name is W.D. Gaster...and yours?"

"Winny Font...and these are my friends Nicole, Kloey and Macie."

"Friends?"

He scanned them over probably checking them, his eye lights lingered on Macie probably seeing the fact that was defiantly not the type of soul to befriend someone like me.

"Interesting."

[voidselfshipp]

Late night cuddle calls

Cw:mentions of f*od and ab*sive m*ther.

Ok to rb

The moon was hid by the dark stormy clouds, the savage wind ran amok the city Howling like a wolf, hitting the window of every appartment it went around,thunder strikes the Sky with a roar, smaller,lightins follow suit Briefly illumating the heavens now darkened.

Its late already.

Jerico turns and tosses around her sheets unable to fall asleep,resting on her back, hands behind her neck, she sighs hesitantly looking at her phone charging right besides her on her bed.

Would he still be awake?

She grabs it,turning it on,unlocking it and going to her most recent chat.

The contact reads "my sunflower🌻🖤" she smiles looking at the profile picture.

"Hey, you up?" She types.

Miles' phone rings as he drinks from his tea, hed be pulling an all nighter to finish some homework.

Checking his phone his expression turns into worry, its already so late, why was she up?

"Yeah I am, whats up?"

"I cant sleep,ive been trying for two hours....can you come?"

He hesitated looking that he was half way through his assigment, he sighed "yeah, be there in ten, ill go get us some snacks, not like I nees them cause youre the only snack I need" he then thinks it again deleting the last part.

"Ill be waiting, ill leave the Window Open"

He grabbed his backpack, putting his phone charger, some money and an extra pair of clothes just in case the rain caught him outside.

So he jumped out his Window,jumping around buildings to get some tea, snacks and maybe even a small plushie if he got lucky.

Exhausted, jeri sighed closing her eyes for a bit.

Her cat, Canela,sat on her chest purring. She chuckles slightly opening her eyes to pet her.

The rain had started to fall, in small harmless droplets, to then transform into a full blown storm.

Miles had just finished getting the last thing he needed, a small plushie of a dragon with intentional patches of different shades of red.

He knew shed like it.

A soft tap on the Window let jerico know miles had arrived, he enters taking off his jacket, he was drenched.

--hey babe-- he says leaving his backpack--hand me a towel?

--Heh sure--jeri gets out of bed walking sluggishly to a chair with folded towels.

--hey is that my hoodie?--he asked.

--it was your hoodie nows mine!

--you little thief!--He said playfully-- ill catch you!--He runs up to her lifting her up.

--oh noo Spiderman has caught me ohhh--both start to laugh--ill tell you what,If you have another set of clothes you go take a bath,I dont want you to get sick

--aw youre always takin care of me!--miles said kissing her--okay, ill go take a bath, mom--jeri rolls her eyes--oh I got you tea and your favourite snack, and a little gift okay babe?

Jers eyes are sparkling with joy running to his backpack.

He then proceeds to go to the bathroom in jericos room.

The girl opens the backpack to find the little plushie dragon.

She coos hugging It.

Miles just finished taking his drenched shirt off when his girlfriend Came to hug him from behind, she was warm-- thanks babe!!

--Ah its nothing...a bit of privacy tho?-- she nodds kissing his cheek and leaving closing the door behind her.

As she sits on the bed drinking her still somehow warm tea something catches her attention.

--needless to say I Keep her in check--miles sang followed by mutters of the parts he didnt quite know-- she was all bad bad never the less...

And so she sat there absolutely enamored, listening to her boyfriend sing.

Ten minutes later she handed him his fresh set of clothes and miles came out the bathroom in an oversized shirt, sweatpants and with red fluffy Slippers.

Jeri giggles making grabby hands.

--Im coming im coming--he said playfully grabbing his own tea and cookies sitting behind jerico,who then presses her body against his as he hugs her--whats been worrying you baby? Youve seem...off

Jer shrugged looking away-- nothing that I havent told you before..

He sighed hiding his face on her hair--theres not much i can do about it...but ill be here as long as you need me, and even then ill stick around...te amo jerico

--yo también miles

Both kiss, and spend the night drinking their warm drinks and listening to music.

Suddenly someone knocks on the door.

Miles climbs up the walls to a dark corner.

Jeris auntcle,vica enters the room--jerico?you okay?-They say in their british accent--heard noise from downstairs--vica looked up-- oh,hello miles

Miles sigh unsticking from the ceiling, falling on his feet hands on the pockets of his jackey-- oh hey vica, thought you were jericos mother

The brit scowls--after what she did the last time that...--they made a pause stopping themself from cursing-- shes no longer allowed around here, but anyway ill let ya ankle biters alone...

They closed the door and miles went back where he was hugging jerico tighter.

--What did your mom do last time she was here?

Jeri hid her face on his chest--awful stuff..she made this huge deal about some of my clothes, she even tried to forbid me from using those thigh hig boots

--the shiny black ones?

--yeah those!

--But those look so good in you!-miles said--what else?

Jer took a long sip from her tea-- her usual...awfull stuff, and also, do you remember how I said I was going to visit you after mom went back home, I couldnt go cause she got mad at me, just because I defended myself from her...,vica kicked her out and I didnt have the energy to go,im so sorry miles...

He hugged her tighter--you dont need to apologize, right now its you and me amor,no one else...

He lifted her face up by the chin and kissed her, she kissed back pressing her forehead against his.

After finishing their food they went to sleep.

Calming music playing in the background, contrasting And complimenting the chaotic stormy enviroment of the outside, as miles hugged jerico from behind protecting her from any danger.

Hed always be there to make her feel better, an smile appeared on his face as he heard the soft calming breaths that lured Him also in a peacefull sleep.

[dnarez]

Chapter 5

Keigo was happy to have two best friend, someone that doesn't want him for his looks or for the future fame he is bound to get, they really liked him but...

Zanko never talked to him when in school, he didn't get why, he would insist and try to talk to her but she would ignore him if he wasen't talking about the project

They were in her room now, finishing the project.

(Y/n) was with her head in Keigo's lap being petted.

"Hey... Mangetsu-chan..."

Zanko stopped writting in her text book and looked at him. "What's up Takami-kun?"

"Why do you avoid me in school?" His head was down, (y/n) looked at him with her ears down and with sad eyes "Are you... ashamed of being my friend?" Zanko's mouth dropped

"WHAT? Are you kidding me?!?" She was astonished "of course not Takami-kun!" She went to him and hugged him "You are my best friend! I'm suprised you still are my friend I thought you would get tired of me if I was too clingy... and you would start to hear rumours about us in school too" she took a step back releasing him from the hug "I'm sorry if I hurted your feelings..."

Keigo looked at her astonished "I don't care about what they say... you too are my best friend Zanko-chan!" He gave her a big smile

Hey! I'm your best friend too!

Zanko blushed listening him saying her name "(y/n)-chan is angry that you said that I'm your best friend..." she looked away trying to hide her blush

"Sorry! Sorry! You too are my best friend (y/n)" he petted her

"Let's go back to work Keigo-kun!" He looked at her surprised but then gave her a big smile.

"Wait! I have a present for the two of you!" He had pink dustying his face., he got two feather from his wings and gave to then. "Don't lose it! I won't give another!"

The two girls were really happy and jumped on him hugging/nuzzling him.

"Thank you so much! We love it!!!"

He laughed and hugged back.

They both got back to work after some other chat.

When they finished everything, Keigo had to go home before it got dark, they said their goodbyes and he took off flying home. If any of then knew that was the last time they would see each other again the would never had let go.

--super timeskip brought to you by years of being alone and have no other friends--

(Y/n) was walking im the park in her human form with Zanko, she had shared all her secrets with her, they were like sisters to one another.

It was a sunny day, but it would rain in the afternoon, there was a storm coming.

"Do I really have to go with you?" (Y/n) asked

"Yes! Come on! You promised you would come with me form my photoshot!" Zanko whinned crossing her arms

"I know I did but the flash hurt my eyes all the time" (y/n) whinned back hagging her had low

"Oh! I know! That's why I brought you.... THIS!" she took a pair of sunglasses of her pursed and gave it to her. "Now you can't scape!" She huffed victorious

"Fine!" (Y/n) put the sunglasses on and keep walking to the place where the photoshot would happen

Zanko's long black hair has in a messy bun that was tied with the help of a long red feather, she was wearing a blue dress that was complimenting her ocean blue eyes, she had becamed a beautiful woman now with 22 years on her back.

(Y/n) was tall, she had 5'9"(188cm), her  (h/l) (h/c) was with a fell small braids on her left side, in the tip of the braid was a red feather, her fluffy (f/c) tail and her also fluffy (f/c) ears were always there.

Being that tall and that pretty led her to become a model with Zanko's help, (y/n) just worked to have the payment to ther house and groceries so she wasen't very popular, but Zanko was one of the biggest names in model business, the money she got from the model job would go to orfanages, schools, hospitals, she would use very little of her money for her on and with (y/n)'s help she could help just as much as she wanted since her big sister payied for almost every house bill.

Zanko was what every girl wanted to be, small and beautiful to everybodies eyes.

(Y/n) was almost never jealous of her sister, she was proud, she knew their mother would be pissed if showed that she was unhappy with how happy her sister's life was.

Ann's death was heartbreaking, Zanko had just started her model job and went home tired, (y/n) like alway would go get her and bring her home, but when they got there the place was wrecked, they had stolen everything that was precious to then, including their mom.

(Y/n) didn't had time to mourn her mom, she had to find a work and fast, Zanko was so fragile and broken that she couldn't get out of the bedroom without crying, so (y/n) had to step up and work for both of then, she had to find a new place since this one was full of memories.

After a full year she did it, they had a new home, and new jobs, Zanko was much better and got back to working, but again... (y/n) never mourned her mother like she wanted to, and now was to busy taking care of Zanko and the house her heart was broken but her smile didn't fell from her face, not even once, she had to be strong, and she had to move on, so she did.

~timeskip to after the photoshot~

"What are we going to eat today?" Zanko's hand was in (y/n)'s hand while they walked back to their place

"What about pizza?" (Y/n) was looking at her with sweet and caring eyes

"Nah... we ate pizza yesterday..."

"Spaghetti?"

"Nop! Too much carbs"

"Hm.... yakisoba? Has a lot of protein, carbs and vitamins, we can make it extra spicy"

"HELL YEAH! Omg I love your food... so damn good! We have to buy the ingredients, let's buy it next to home or here?"

"The grocerie store next to home have more options, so it's better there"

They started to walk faster not jogging, but not walking either.

They got there when it was dark.

"Let's be fast, just get the vegetables and I get the meat"

"Why I can never get the meat?" Zanko whinned

"You can never get the right one, you always get the ones with less fat in it"

"But fat is bad!"

"So don't eat it!" (Y/n) went to the get the meat and Zanko to get the vegetables

The both of then meet again in the noddles section.

"Ok... which brand and how much?"

"Do you want to eat it in the dinnser tomorow too?"

"Hell yeah! It taste better the next day" Zanko jumped excited

(Y/n) laughed at her sillyness "ok, let's go"

They went to the cashier and payied up when they got out the store (y/n) stoped

"Wait! I forgot to buy the drink! What do I get you?"

"I want green tea!"

"Ok (f/d) for me and green tea for you, I will buy it for tomorow too, you can go ahead, I will caught up to you"

(Y/n) gave her the bags

"Be careful and don't stop for nothing ok? Just go straight home"

"I'm not a kid! I can take care of myself!" Zanko pouted, her two hands full"

"I know, I know, can't I just look after my fav sis?"

"I'm your only sister" she dead pan

(Y/n) giggled "And my fav one! Aren't lucky?" She kissed her cheek leaving it red stamped with her lipstick "oh my!" She giggled again

"You are using lipstick you dumbass" zanko shouted angry for not being able to clean it properly since she is with both hand busy "urgh! Just go already!" She rolled her eyes and started to walk home

"I love you!" (Y/n) waved at her and smiled sweetly

"Love you too!" Zanko shouted not looking back, walking back to theur house in the dark of night

~Timeskip to getting home~

(Y/n) p.o.v

The streets were silent, I got to the door and was about to put my key in when I saw the open door.

Not thinking twice I got inside.

"ZANKO?? ZANKO WHERE ARE YOU???"

The place was wreced there was fitghing obviously, there was blood every were.

"ZANKO???" I keep trying to smell her, but the blood was hers, I trasformed in wolf, ready to fight at any moment while still searching for her.

Zanko please answear me! I'm worried!

The thunder outside was unforgiven, it was so loud, it started to rain heavly. I almost didn't heard small whimpers from our room.

Zanko!

I run to our room saw her there barely breathing.

"Hey big sis *cought* *cought* you are late" she smiled to me

I got closer to her, there was blood all over her, I almost couldn't see her bruises and the gigantic gash in her stomach.

I-... I-I don't think that you will-... you will...

"I know... it's.. it's kinda cold... and... scary... but it's okay! You are with me now! I knew that you wouldn't leave me alone, you never did it" she smiled sweetly and petted my head "such a good girl big sis... I-I'm tired... can I go to sleep?" Her voice was so fragile and weak if I wasen't paying attention I wouldn't have heard it.

Of course you can pup... when you wake up we will go to that photoshot, and then to the meeting, you need to rest now Zanko...

"Can you sing for me big sis?"

Sure litlle sis...

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

When the night was full of terrors

And your eyes were filled with tears

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

When I looked at her again my heart stopped, she was smiling and looking at me, but her eyes were blank, they no longer had that sparkle that would make everyone fall in love with her.

How can you look so pretty when I fell so lonely?

I cryied while laing down beside her accidentaly ended up sleeping while wishing this was all a terrible nightmare.

---------------------------------------------------------- A/n

Yoh! The song is the night we meet by Lord Huron

Hope you all are enjoying all of this ♡

1950 words

[bigfootsgirlfriendd]

back 2 THIS oversharing but i am going to mildly shove my mother. i love her AND!!!! she buys me junk. like...hello. the kind bar is one thing but she noticed the first week of quarantine the part of this ED i actually find ugly reared its head as in i ate...too many corn chips and wanted to die and worked off the calories which also made me want to die...and during that i built some muscle from all the fucking workouts but in my quadriceps and then i was like now i REALLY want to kill myself. but anyways. i complain because what the fuck else do i have to say. not a hell of a lot. to continue complaining....she bought me corn chips and like!!! ones specifically for me and i was thinking in my head ‘i will take you out.’ i didnt ask for it. ive been stressing that i dont want to eat that shit. like i talked to her about it and how distressing it is for me. i mean think about it. a little. it’s hard to describe what it’s LIKE to feel so horrific about shit food and your body even when you are still like a size 2-4 and so i should just shut up, right? but the physical reality doesnt even matter. ok it does because when your dumbass disordered brain makes u eat shit guess what. the amount of PHYSICAL pain it causes. i potentially have celiac and the fact that i would still eat bread and it was fucking EXCRUCIATING. and i know pain, given i am female. this was worse than the cramps that had me lying on the ground for a solid hour. just waiting for it to be over. 

anyways. it’d been awhile since the last grocery run (well, about a week) and FINALLY. i was making progress for a few days. feeling good! eating my regular healthy shit and NOTHING. ELSE. it just sucks so bad when people around you eat like shit and don’t care. luckily i have like..the vegan thing and telling myself (though i can’t confirm it, like, NOW) that i have celiac has helped. but every damn day dude!! my f*ther is constantly shitting on my sister for eating a lot of sugar and saying ‘she’s gonna get diabetes’ which...isn’t wROnG per se but like sir your body is already failing you every damn day of the week and you eat like shit! who’s the one eating shit tons of red meat, mayonnaise (which, btw...that should be a crime that gets you put in jail. none of this weed shit. if you eat mayo....straight to prison), BEER. like sir what the fuck did you think would happen. my mother...is interesting lmao she eats a lot of shitty things but small amounts and then continues to eat small amounts of actually good things too ‘to compensate.’ is she rail thin? no! then why do i feel insecure? well!! that is my issue to deal with. issues? probably. i just want to like...manifest my own like shed. doesnt have to be large or anything. shed. with my kitchen and pots and pans and spoons and not oNE of them has been used to cook something gross. and those pantry shelves? you’ll see nothing but legumes, broth and almond milk! PERIOD. (okay...unless i’ve forgotten something else). 

what i am saying is all i asked for food wise was fruits, vegetables, broth, almond milk. baby carrots as a snack for the hummus in the fridge. and she bought me a family size bag of corn chips and a glorified candy bar of a product (less sugar? maybe so. but who the fuck cares? it’s literally all trash). maybe i will crush them up and flush them down the toilet. i hate to be wasteful. but it is waste is it not. then i have to wash the container tonight. and she bought another box of gluten free crackers. which....ma’am. they have sugar added. im not gonna fucking touch them. why would you do this. 

it’s so wild cause growing up i always thought my mom, at least, was healthy. that as a family we were healthy. but i feel like in america we have such a warped view of what that actually fucking means. and this is on the east coast, too! i can’t imagine the midwest. i’m a skeleton in the grave there i’m sure. which isn’t entirely their fault. but anyways. but looking at all this shit. like....i want to scream? kind of? 

i would, but...best not to have neighbors think that you’re getting murdered. although...i think that people feel like neighbors would do something if they heard noises. but let’s be real. every time some random knocks on the door we play dead until it goes away. let telemarketers go to voicemail. block out sirens with noise cancelling headphones or, country version (rural?) if you hear some whack shit out in the woods? like fuck are you gonna go out there and investigate! you’re gonna go ‘well that’s none of my business’, pretend to forget you heard it, and move on! i don’t know how many of these sentences are coherent. 

i’m gonna go eat some baby carrots now. fuck. 

[mysplaced-pen]

THe RFA as the Heathers musical????? (◕‿-)*･｡ﾟ I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT YOU KNWO WE BOTH NEED THIS.(ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc) PLease the love o f my life, the 7 to my 07, the Chandelier to my McNAmara the Viktor to my YUuuri! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

babe!! i love you!!( ˘ ³˘)❤  you right, we need this. SOOOOO~~

[ DISCLAIMER : i didn’t really match up personalities??? its hard. im smol. its 2am. you’re right next to me. ]

Cast

MC - Veronica 

Zen - Heather Chandler 

Yoosung - Heather Duke

Jaehee - Heather McNamara 

Jumin - Kurt 

707 / Luciel / Saeyoung - JD

V / Jihyun - Ram 

Saeran - Martha

Rika - Mrs. Fleming 

Vanderwood - Preppy Stud / Principal Gowan / general ensemble 

Highlights

Beautiful 

MC being all smol and hopeful - “Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person” “We were kind before, we can be kind once more” 

If Vanderwood is the general ensemble, its just them yelling out insults. “Freak! Shortbus! Bug-eyes! Lard ass!” etc.

MC about V: “smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick”

Saeran loving the Princess Bride???

MC about Jumin: “kind of like being the tallest dwarf” 

Jumin: “you have a zit right there” 

Jaehee being head cheerleader is amazing

also: “if i took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, i’d have matching halves. thats very important”

Yoosung being Duke and being snarky to Zen 

MC about Zen: “he is a mythic bitch.” which is me about him tbh

Rika not giving a fuck about Yoosung throwing up in the bathroom rip 

Saeran watching MC get sold to the rfa smh

Candy Store 

literally everything about this is iconic

Zen: “WHY NOW ARE YOU PULLING ON MY D I C K?” 

the subtle gay between Veronica + Mac is now Jaehee x MC

Zen to Yoosung: “SHUT UP HEA THER”

Zen being a dramatic asshole with that long note 

Jaehee hitting them harmonies hell yeah 

i love this part of this stupid au listen

Fight For Me 

MC to 707: “hey, Mr. No Name Kid”

707 literally beating up Jumin and V???????

where is this au going

7 is actually 3 cats in a trench coat

MC is #whipped 

Vanderwood in the background: “holy shit! holy shit holy shit holy shiiiiiit” 

MC in general: “Dᵃᵃᵃaamn”

MC knows CPR how handy 

“You can punch real good”

Freeze Your Brain

ok but?? all of this song is 7??????

“who needs cocaineeeee?”

minus the dad rip

7 goes to 7-Eleven

god bless

“altar of slush” is something Seven would have ok 

*sip noise* 

Big Fun

idk its party song

Yoosung, Jaehee, and Zen going: “dang dang diggity dang a dang”

V hating freshman

Jumin going: “yOU NEED A JELLO SHOT”

disregard martha having feelings for ram rip i dont ship that

“LETS USE THEIR SHOWERS. THAT SOUNDS LIKE BIG FUN”

its a party idk what to tell you

Dead Girl Walking

do I have to explain this one?

MC in 7′s yard

MC about Zen: “the demon queen of high school”

“spend these 30 hours getting..fREAAKKYYYYYYYY YEA”

Seven: “how’d you find my address?” and “that works for me, hoop”

its a sex song

thats it

yall do the do

The Me Inside of Me

Zen is dead

Zen: “IM BIGGER THAN JOHN LENNON”

this is what Zen deserves in death

i cant believe mc and 707 poisoned zen

this is the song his fanclub sings

jaehee is in mourning

rika: “this is the loveliest suicide note I’ve ever read”

Blue

rip 

Jumin and V, drunk and trying to get into MC’s pants?

seems legit

V: “Heyyy ‘ronia” ;)))))

MC: “you got a left hand, use it”

Yoosung and Jaehee just shaking their heads in the car and singing along

this song is a mess

Jumin and V had too much wine

Our Love is God

here w e goooo

707 being all cute at first

Jumin and V: “free pussy. and we dont even have to buy it a pizza”

Our love is god 7

“Ich Luge” bullets yeah sure saeyoung

“we’re what killed the dinosaurs”

707 kills V????????

Jumin to 7: “you killed my best friend”

nOW IM SAD ITS 2:30ISH AND IM GONNA CRY

My Dead Gay Son

Vanderwood can move over, I’ll sing this song

i mean…i love my dead gay sons

they’re bi, but….

anyway 

now they’re dead

rip in pieces

Seventeen

this is where MC tries to convice 7 to be normal

and its cute

and they talk about prom and dancing and camping

cute couple moment 

thats about it

Shine A Light

here’s rika trying to make light of a situation that shouldn’t be lightened on

and the start of Jaehee’s breakdown

“my husband left” the world, ye

Rika: “i’ve joined a cult”

also Rika: “so Steve, I’m ending our affair. And I faked it. every single time.”

….anyway

Lifeboat

my beautiful wife’s beautiful solo

she’s so sad

the people around her are dying

she’s kill this song it would sound so good

being salty about Yoosung being the new leader

“well who made her captain?!…still, the weakest must go”

save my wife

Shine A Light(Reprise)

aka Yandere Yoosung

or, in Jaehee’s thoughts

look, more subtext gay

honestly, just….

im sad, next song

Kindergarten Boyfriend

smh Saeran we don’t need anymore deaths

[ changes this song to some angsty twin situation because,,, ] 

 “Where naptime lasts for centuries”

someone spare him

Yo Girl

the return of all the dead people!

and 7 really starting to go crazy

Zen’s ominous: “he’s got your handwriting down cold~”

Vanderwood as MC’s parents. 

The Dead Trio: “come join Heather in hell~”

MC’s desperate “get out of my house!” 

707′s “knock, knock~~~” 

i like this song tbh its short but ooooooh

Meant To Be Yours

this song is also just 707 in general

just *clenches fist* ooooooh 

he’s this angsty 

plot twist: this whole musical is just one of 7′s bad endings 

sound effects for days 

“bring marshmallows, we’ll make s’mores~”

and then it starts to get Really Angsty

“you were meant to be mine. i am all that you need. you carved open my heart. can’t just leave me to bleed. vERONICA- open the, open the door please”

and then mc does….the Thing

“STILL I WILL IF I MUUSSSSSST”

vanderwood as mc’s mom yelling when they see what happened

Dead Girl Walking (Reprise)

MC going all 180 here and now they wanna die with Seven

Rika back at it again: “I threw together a lovely tribute, especially under such short notice”

Just imagine Jaehee doing a cheer that goes “send you straight to hell!”

MC trying hard here, “I wish your dad was good, I wish grownups understood”

Seven going full psycho: “I wish I had more TNT” 

*cue epic fight scene*

“Send you straight to-”

I Am Damaged

SADNESS

7: “I respectfully, disagree.”

he’s too damaged. far too damaged

im gonna cry;;

“I worship you…I’d trade my life for yours”

o H MY GOD

“And when I disappear..”

WA IT HOLD O N  NOT THIS WAAAAY

“our love is god…”

 B O O M

yoosung: “you look like hell” mc: “yeah. i just got back”

Seventeen (Reprise)

and we leave you with these questions:

will saeran ever get over kindergarten?

will jaehee and MC finally Be Gay as a true ending?

when will MC stop

find out more next time on: “Random Ass AUs: the Musical”

[csa-suggestions]

Could a nonconsensual kiss be csa? When I was a kid my mom used to kiss me on the lips and I would always tell her not to or otherwise express my discomfort. And it made me really afraid of her. I don't remember if she did anything more but I have huge blocks in my early memory. Could that be caused by the kissing alone or do you think something else traumatic happened? Sorry for all the questions.

im not sure, i myself went through that too with my f/ther but i dont know if it would be counted as csa even though it /was/ uncomfortable. there could be repressed trauma, but it would be best to seek a therapist before you dig into you psst because it could be retrauamtizing

[johnwaterstrike]

A call on the linkpearl came over, a slightly...more timid Sizha speaking. "John...? Are you there...? If you are and you're doing well...I would like to see you. Please visit my office when you can." 

A scratching sound then John's voice comes over, "Um, hang on.  Kit stop diving into the water..." a few more seconds later, "Sorry, was just finish up a bath.  Give me a quarter to half bell and I'll be there Sizha." 

"Of course....take your time...." pearl clicks off.

"Really, Kit, you and water..." John said, stepping into the mansion.  "I'm glad that the paint came out."  Kit giggle from where she was laying on top of his head, 'Fun!' she said.  John let a smile pull at his lips even as he knock on the office door.  "Sizha, sorry for the wait."  He push the door open, "At least it kept the little ones entertain until their mom and brother was done having his arm patch up." 

Sizha was looking at the bookshelf, holding a teacup. "....." He blinks, realizing that John had walked into the room. "Oh no...it's alright, really....hey...." A small smile crossed his face when he saw him, genuine. "You're walking...there's even more color on you....." 

"Mom been having me manage the people coming into the clinic." John said.  "Dad also was able to talk to Tanya and Cocobuki and she will hopefully be home in a week or two."  Sizha would be able to see that the weight that had been on his shoulders had lifted a little.  There was an elezen boy that had his arm slash and I kept his siblings entertained until Mom finish healing him." 

"Ah...john, that is wonderful news. Perhaps she can come home sooner than that." He closed the book in his hands and slid it back into the bookshelf. "The day I get to meet her draws closer. I look forward to it. And siblings? How darling. I do love getting to help take care of children..." 

"Sam is especially eager to see her again.... though Dad said that some of her memories are mix up and that is what Master Cocobuki has been working with her since that happens with a partial procession."  A soft smile grace John's lips.  "Twin girls and finger paints.  It took forever to get it out of my hair but they were so cute showing of the drawing to their Mom and brother." 

Sizha smiles to him a little more but rubs at his eyes. "Oh goodness...finger painting..I can't remember the last time I ever did that. Hm...." He opens his eyes and watches John. "Well...the important thing is that she is...alive and here...and she well remember. she'll be worked through...she has a good brother at her side." 

@sizhatonaz

John blush a little.  "I hope to have Howl and her meet once she home."  He frown the step closer.  "Sizha...have you gotten any sleep recently?" 

"Howl...." He nods a little bit. "I would like to see him one day too...when I have the time, of course. It's adorable when you speak of him...you make me think of the way I see Etienne. How sweet...." His ears tilt forward and back. "Oh...sleep...? As best I can, I've been busy, there is so much to take care of..." His eyes wander the room for a moment, looking for his supplies. "Sedatives have helped honestly." 

John shook his head before stepping forward and gave him a hug.  "You have me rest but you should be taking time away as well." he said.  Kit nods from her place on his head.  'Not do good for Saiya worry or Etienne worry as well."  He ran his fingers against Sizha's ear.  "At least try to get some rest without the Sedatives.  I know they are helping but I don't want you to use them as a handicap, ok?" 

Sizha smiled at him a bit but it was coupled with a slight frown. "But I need it right now. Etienne is not well either, he's been troubled. I've been speaking to other company members but...." His eyes searched the room a little. ".....I...I still.....need the sedative to sleep lately. I'm afraid that if I don't, the nightmares will return. They've been so frequent...and I hear...." He trailed off a bit. 

John step back, placing a hand under Sizha's chin.  "Nightmares...have you talk to anyone about this?"  Thinking on it, Sizha was a lot like him, placing others before himself.  "Sizha, what have the nightmares been about.  Maybe speaking about them will help calm them down so you can sleep without the sedatives?"

He hesitated a moment. "......" Ears tilted and wiggled a little bit but he began to speak. "These dreams, brother....everything has been breaking apart. My company members...no, my family....they have each had their own struggles. I have helped them all....I am still helping them. But I fear the consequences....I fear what comes after and I worry I c-can't save them...." He closes his eyes. ".....A-ahzi keeps talking to me...in my nightmares....he's been in every one of them....I...I....I didn't think he would.....appear again...." His tail slowly moved from side to side. "I can't feel him the same way that I did before but he's there. H..he's awake." A look of concern crosses his expression as he tries to pull details from his mind.

John ears shot up as he listen to Sizha told him what the nightmares had been about.  He pull Sizha into a hug, running his hand over the other miqo'te's hair.  "Listen to me, alright." he said.  "It's a nightmare, it can't hurt you."  He waited for a moment, "But it doesn't mean that it there is not meaning to them."  He nods over to the sets, "I want you to sit, then we're going to try and work out what your mind is trying to tell you, ok?" 

Sizha buried into Johns shoulder with a gentle nod. "A...alright...I'll sit with you....." He moves to the benches with John until he can sit by them.

Once Sizha was on the bench, he settle down beside him, and Kit flew over to cuddle into Sizha's neck.  "Alright, first off, you put so much of yourself into everyone because they are family and friends.  The first thing is that you can't save everyone.  I struggle with that everyday.  I try so hard to help everyone but there will be a point that you can't save them."  He pause, to compose himself.  "Second, your mind can't handle the pressure that you are placing on yourself.  It telling you that you are going to break from this and the best way to show that is with Ahzi."  He brush some of Sizha hair away from his face.  "It may even be some leftover of Ahzi after the two of you became one that may be trying to warn you what the pressure is doing to you." 

He lay his head against Johns shoulder. "A...are you sure...? I...you're probably right..." He closes his eyes. "...I'm trying to get others help, John....I am....and training people for this work. It is getting to me and I know this...and I can't rest at home either because Etie needs assistance too...it's not his fault...it's the people who have done this to him that have caused it...." He opens his eyes again. "Why does the world have to be s...so...." He stumbled in his speech, falling into silence. "......" He speaks up again after a moment. "John, I am a man who cannot stay seated. I rest now more than I ever have...I am pulling for assistance...and it isn't enough...I can't sit....not for long." He felt something tugging at his mind but he ignored the words and ignored the thought. This was enough... 

"Shhh, it's ok to feel overwhelm, Sizha," he said, running his hand against his little brother's ear.  "But you do need to focus on yourself.  You were the one that told me that, so place use that advice."  He wish he could answer why the world was the way it was but just like Sizha, that lay out of reach for him as well.  'Sleep, we look after you.' Kit said, still cuddle into Sizha's neck.  "Kit's right.  I'll stay beside you and you try to get some rest.  No thinking about the others, just focus on getting some rest for not only yourself but for Etienne too, alright?"

Sizha nodded slowly, swallowing a bit. "A..alright john. Thank you f..for this. You have so much patience...." He nodded sleepily as he lay against him to nod off as he was already trying to do.

John stay quiet until he was sure that Sizha had subcome to the sleep that he needed.  "Little brother," he breath, pulling Sizha tighter against him, trying to act as a buffer to the outside world.  He buried his face into the others hair, "Ahzi, I'll try to protect him from the forces that are trying to break him here.  Please, our little brother, if you are somehow aware, even a little, try to watch over Siz so that he doesn't break apart mentally."  Kit look up at John, looking confuse.  'Think Ahz...' John didn't move from where he held Sizha.  "No, the two are whole and Ahz wouldn't do this, to try and break all the work they both done.  Or hurt Sizha in such a way.  There has to be something..."  He sigh, pulling out one of his medica books, using this time as he watch over Sizha here, to study as well. 

It seemed the first bell went by just fine...he was sleeping rather peacefully. But about a bell and a half later, he began shifting in his sleep and mumbling.

John quickly set the book off to the side as he felt Sizha shift in his sleep.  Tilting his ears, he try to hear what his little brother was mumbling about.  "I'm here Sizha, I've got you." he whisper, brushing the other hair gentle.  "What going on, Siz?  Step back and look at what is going on objectively.  Ahz, if you are somewhere in there, please help him."

Sizhas ears twitched and he seemed to struggle again. "N...no...." He mumbled under his breath. 

"Sizha...it's just a nightmare but you can control it." he said.  He held on tighter, burying his face against Sizha's hair, near his little brother's ear.  "I have you Siz, alright so listen to my voice.  Alright, I need you to stay calm and try to step outside the nightmare.  It's not happening to you but to someone else.  Now, try and tell me what you are seeing to that person?" 

"Bro...ther...." He mumbles softly, fidgeting. "Hear...you...." 

'Good, he can hear me.' John thought.  "Alright, Sizha, now, you're seeing this on one of those magitek screens.  It's not you but someone else.  What do you see playing on the screen?" 

"Void...howling...wind...." He trembles. "Cold....so cold...."

"Alright, it's dark and there is wind blowing and it's cold." he says.  "Ok, now, try to form a light, like a camp fire.  Warm and gentle.  Once that is done, form a building to block out the wind, like the building that we were in when you and Ahzi became whole."  John scratch an ear.  "And remember that I'm with you so you're not alone." 

Sizha would tremble and shake against the cold but Johns voice helped guide him into making the landscape. First the fire was set and then it became a fireplace. The details came together as he remembered them, bit by bit until the small cottage was full in its entirety. 

"Do you feel the warmth?  Ok, that is your safe spot.  Make it how you want it, books, games, pictures...anything that makes you happy and gives you strength."  He waited a moment before he continue.  "This is your safe spot, that protect your heart and mind.  Nothing can get in unless you want it too.  Now, there is a window that you can look out of.  You'll be able to see what is taking place in the nightmare if you wish to see it."  He stoke the ear again.  "You can rest and nothing will hurt you here.  The wind isn't howling now is it.  It's quiet and warm, a nice place to rest until you are ready to face the nightmares or comeback to the waking world.  I'll call you when I'm sure you rested enough or you can come back on your own when you feel that you have rested enough." 

Sizha does seem to shiver less but he's staring out of the window of the house they've built. He mumbles in his sleep. "Ah...zi....miss...you....." Sizha watches Ahzi watch him from the outside of the house. 

John frowns but nods.  "I miss him too, Sizha.  He was a good little brother to both of us."  He move Sizha so that he would rest more comfortably against him.  "Now rest...gather your strength and I'll make sure that no one comes in and wakes you too soon."  He whisper quietly, "I'm sure you would want him to rest too Ahzi, if you were still with us.  I promise, I'll protect him as much as I can." 

Sizha drifts into sleep again, still staring out of the window in his dream. Both "brothers" are staring at one another but this time, Ahzi is silent. "......" 

John breaths a sigh as he feels that shift in aether into rest.  He reach up, brushing a bit of hair, before reaching up to touch the aethertide linkpearl.  He whisper quietly into it, "Sizha isn't to be disturb.  He's finally resting so please allow him a few hours to sleep."  He look over to Kit.  "Can you lock the door?  I don't want anyone deciding to come in here before knocking or using the pearl to disturb Sizha."  Kit nods, taking to her wings and flying over to lock the door.  She settle on John's lap but reach over to pet Sizha hand.  'Promise, look after you.'  John nods.  "Yes, with Ahzi now part of Sizha, we'll watch over both of them."

[terresdebrumestories]

Chapter 3/4: Get up

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: Digimon Adventure 01/02/Tri RATING: Mature. WORDCOUNT: 10 032 PAIRING(S): Endgame Taito, though the fic is primarily Taichi-centric. Side pairings include Takeru/Hikari and discussion of past Sorato. CHARACTER(S): Taichi Kamiya, Yamato Ishida, Hikari Kamiya, Takeru Takashi, Daisuke Motomiya, Agumon, Veemon, Gabumon, Sora Takenoushi, and mention of the rest of the gang. GENRE: Reunion of friends. Also future!fic. TRIGGER WARNING(S): Depression and discussion thereof, including one briefly mentioned suicide attempt in chapter two. SUMMARY: In which Taichi has questionable ways to handle his issues, everyone tries to be nice, and Yamato yells at him a lot. Same old, same old, except for the part where it ends with kissing.

OTHER CHAPTERS: [I. Epic Fail] [II. Rock bottom] [III. Get up] [IV. Start over]

Occasionally, Taichi thinks about telling Yamato to cut the automated texts off. There’s no need for him to remind Taichi about eating when Agumon and Daisuke do that on their own, after all, and having to take his meals with three pairs of eyes staring at him like he’s going to start putting his food is unnerving enough…the truth is Taichi doesn’t really mind, though. Perspective is everything, and now that he’s—reluctantly but sincerely—accepted the idea that he really is depressed, listening to his phone whistle Yamato’s ring tone has pretty much turned into the better part of his day, especially on days the ‘go get dinner’ text turns into the start of a long conversation—the kind that lasts for hours, which they hadn’t really had in months.

It does wonder for Taichi’s moral, even better than Daisuke’s insistence to fatten him up with the best noodles in Tokyo.

“You’re just biased,” Daisuke protests when Taichi uses the word in front of him one night.

He’s pink with pleasure though, so Taichi doesn’t take offense with it.

“If I was,” he points out around a mouthful of beef-flavored ramen, “I’d say you have the best cooking in Tokyo, but we all know your cakes are disgusting.”

“I like Daisuke’s cakes!” Veemon chimes in from his place on the back of the sofa, “they’re sweet.”

Agumon, lying on the carpet, agrees with his fellow digimon, Taichi accuses him of trying to coddle up to the cook and, in the middle of their pretend-argument about Daisuke’s horrendous baking—‘no, really, it’s terrible’ ‘yeah, I know’—Taichi realizes he hasn’t had that much fun since…well, basically since Hikari moved out of the flat.

That’s about four months of disturbingly low moods, almost four pounds lost to disastrous eating habits, and two nearly destroyed friendships.

It’s good to think he might be pulling himself out of it.

“Taichi, are you okay?” Daisuke asks, jostling him out of his reflexions, and Taichi barely even has to put effort in the smile he answers with:

“Actually, yes. I’m pretty okay.”

It’s been almost a month since he fought with Agumon. They’re not exactly back to what they were before—will never quite get back to what they were before—but Taichi has talked enough about it enough by now to begin making his peace with it.

“Okay enough to come play soccer with us Saturday?”

Taichi has a ton of files to reviews and homeworks to do before next week, and he could probably use every minute of the weekend to work on them.

He says yes anyway.

{ooo}

“I hear you almost broke Takeru’s nose yesterday,” Yamato says when he phones on Sunday, barely giving Taichi time to put the receiver to his ear before starting.

Taichi fakes a dramatic sigh:

“Hello to you too,” he says, and doesn’t miss the smile in Yamato’s voice when he replies:

“It’s been a while since you did that.”

“What,” Taichi asks, raising his eyebrows even though his friend can’t see it, “say hello?”

“Insist on saying ‘hello’ even though the conversation has already started,” Yamato corrects. “That was the first clue you weren’t feeling well.”

Taichi blinks at the balcony’s banister, fingers tugging at the edge of the hammock he brought out to enjoy the sunny afternoon. He swallows, throat a little too tight for comfort, then says:

“Sometimes your eye for detail freaks me out a little.”

“Noeru would be proud,” Yamato deadpans, and Taichi snorts.

Joke about their scientist friend aside, the observation really is shocking, even if it isn’t quite for the reason Taichi implied. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped insisting on proper greetings, even though he’s spent over a decade trying to convince Yamato to actually use them.

It’s not that big a deal—he and Yamato would have argued about it a long time ago if Taichi really minded—but it’s still weird to think something that automatic can get lost.

(It’s also weird to think something that small can get noticed, but then this is Yamato. He notices the weirdest things.)

“Well,” Taichi says after a beat, pushing on the ground with his hand to rock the hammock, “I guess it means therapy is working.”

“So does the soccer game,” Yamato agrees, “though I still don’t know why you tried to brain my brother.”

“I didn’t try to brain him,” Taichi protests, free hand raising toward the sky—or, more accurately, the upstairs neighbors’ balcony—“he got distracted ogling my sister—if anything, you should be blaming him for thinking it’s spring when we’re barely even in January!”

Yamato snorts on the other end of the line—then there’s a man’s voice somewhere in the background, and Taichi listens to the sound of his best friend speaking French—probably to Mr. Takashi—and laugh before he tells Taichi:

“Papy says if they get too hormonal you can always try to hose them.”

“For my own mental health,” Taichi says as his ears heat up, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Takeru usually reacts the same,” Yamato replies with an easy chuckles, “you guys are too sensitive. I think it’s funny.”

“That’s ‘cause France corrupted you,” Taichi retorts, smiling when it makes Yamato snort.

“Didn’t notice anyone complaining. People compliment me on my smile now.”

“You can smile?”

“Fuck off.”

Taichi tries to muffle his snort of laughter with his hand but, if the displeased noise Yamato makes is any indication, it doesn’t work all that well. From the corner of his eyes, Taichi spies Daisuke looking at him with a somewhat puzzled expression, and he gives a vague ‘it’s nothing’ gesture before he tells Yamato:

“Seriously, it’s goo you’re letting people see what a great guy you are. I was getting tired of people thinking I lied.”

“You’re an ass,” Yamato says, the smile in his voice belying the insult, “you think I can’t hear your stupid voice through the phone?”

“You’d get to see it if we could do video chats.”

Yamato mutters something about the price of data plans in France, material impossibilities and other very reasonable arguments that the two of them have been trading on and off for eight years. This time, they skip the ‘old buildings aren’t kind to the Wi-Fi’ one, but it’s a near thing.

“Don’t worry,” Taichi cuts in after a moment, “I know. Still means you don’t get to see my face when I’m finally putting a smile back on it.”

“It’s okay,” Yamato says, “I’ll catch up in next month.”

Taichi straightens in his hammock so fast he almost stumbles out of it, startling Agumon out of his nap when his foot accidentally bumps into a scaly belly.

“Aow!” Agumon protests, blinking in all directions before he focuses back on Taichi’s very red-feeling face: “Are we under attack?”

“Yamato is visiting next month!” Taichi replies, unconcerned about his voice’s sudden rise in pitch, “and he almost didn’t say it!”

“I just did,” Yamato protests on the other side of the line.

Taichi makes a shushing motion with his hand before he remembers his friend can’t see him. Then he says:

“You should have been leading with that instead of pretending I nearly killed your brother! Are you portaling home?”

“First of all,” Yamato says with an exaggeratedly cross voice, “I didn’t say you tried to kill him, I said you tried to give him a concussion.”

“Details,” Taichi manages, but doesn’t protest when Yamato clicks his tongue at him:

“And to answer your question: I’m flying in. Papy is coming along, and we agreed the temperature change wouldn’t agree well with him, especially with the trek from one tower to the other.”

“Not to mention he doesn’t have cross-borders privileges,” Taichi agrees.

It’s one of the nicest parts of being recognized as the Chosen Children: now they can travel through the Digiworld and back wherever they need to go instead of having to bother with long flight hours. So far, it’s given their group a lot more time together, when Mimi and Yamato didn’t have to go through twenty-four hours journeys, but putting an eighty-nine years old man through the abrupt climate change would have been kind of cruel.

“It’s nice he’s coming along,” Taichi resumes after a short pause, “I’m sure Takeru will be thrilled to see him again.”

“I think he’s mostly coming along for my mom,” Yamato says—Taichi hears his grandfather protest, somewhere in the background, and for a long moment the phone only lets out the sound of good-natured bickering in an impressive mix of French and Japanese.

Taichi listens to the two of them without disguising his amusement, pulling one leg out of the hammock to rub at Agumon’s belly—the digimon shifts in his sleep, but otherwise doesn’t seem to complain—and smirks when Yamato’s voice shifts from not-quite-annoyed to embarrassed.

“Getting grilled?” Taichi asks after Yamato all but squeaks in protests.

“Oh laugh it off all you want,” Yamato replies with a hiss, “he’s planning on doing the same to you when we get there!”

“What?” Taichi croaks, head jerking upright in surprise, “Why would he want to do that? I’m not his grandson!”

“I think it’s his revenge for you not waiting until he could meet you, last time,” Yamato explains, and Taichi blushes.

“Is there any way I can get out of this?”

“In your dreams” Yamato says.

Taichi sighs.

{ooo}

Daisuke comes home late that night, even by restaurant-owner standards. The good point is Taichi managed to complete his homework before his roommate got home. The also-good-but-less-practical point is that by the time Veemon and Daisuke walk past the door, they’re both exhausted enough that they don’t even seem to realize Taichi’s there until he’s squirmed his way out from under Agumon and gotten to his feet. Taichi helps Daisuke get rid of his coat, asking if he’d had dinner already.

“There’s some tea, too, you look half-frozen!”

Veemon cheers a little at the mention of hot tea, and Daisuke smiles down at his partner’s retreating form before he sighs.

“Dinner sounds great. They robbed me blind tonight—if this keeps up I’ll get to New York faster than I thought I would.”

“That…would be great,” Taichi says, pausing to brush imaginary lints of Daisuke’s coat as he speaks.

He’s glad Daisuke’s expatriation project is shaping up well, he really is. That doesn’t mean he’s fully ready to let go of his friend yet.

“It still won’t happen for another couple of years,” Daisuke says when Taichi’s pause stretches a little too long, “I’m far from having enough fund for now, and the immigration process is a pain anyway.”

“Yeah,” Taichi agrees, surprised to find the smile he gives Daisuke doesn’t take as much effort as he thought it would, “there’s still time for me to get over myself, right?”

“Right,” Daisuke agrees, “but no matchmaking this time.”

Taichi blushes to the root of his hair, but he figures he deserves the jab, and doesn’t protest. He pulls Daisuke to the dining table instead, and sits him down just as Veemon comes back from the kitchen, holding two steaming mugs of tea and grinning wildly as he announces:

“There’s sushi!”

“Yeah,” Taichi confirms, “I wanted to wait until you guys got home, but Agumon had a hard time restraining himself from eating half of it when we made them—”

“You made them?”

Taichi turns away from Agumon’s grimace to look at Daisuke again, and he rolls his eyes when he discovers his friends’ hesitating expression.

“It’s sushi,” he says with a ‘duh’ face, “they’re lopsided but even I can’t mess it up that badly.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Daisuke promises, blushing as he fiddles with the edge of his sleeves, “I just—I didn’t know you cooked.”

Taichi doesn’t, usually. He can survive on his own, of course, but he also knows this isn’t his area of expertise and, between Daisuke, Yamato and Miyako—plus Mimi’s recipes, when she visits—their group is already well staffed in cooks who are far better than him.

“I don’t do it often,” he admits.

Agumon jumps off the couch at that moment, walking up to Taichi’s leg and nudging his knee as he says:

“It’s because Yamato’s coming home next month! Taichi only cooks when he’s in a really good mood!”

“Agumon!” Taichi protests while his Digimon starts toward the kitchen to retrieve the tray, “you ruined the surprise!”

“Oh, he told me already,” Daisuke says with a little shrug.

Taichi turns around to stare at Daisuke, trying to get his brain to work around a quick time calculation. Tokyo is eight hours ahead of Paris, so either Yamato told Daisuke at some point after they hung up—knowing Daisuke’s refusal to even think about his phone during work hours, this is unlikely—or that conversation took place before Taichi and Yamato talked earlier…which would mean Yamato technically shared the news with Daisuke yesterday.

“Taichi,” Daisuke asks when Taichi’s silence lasts too long, “is everything alright?”

“Oh—yeah. Yes, of course. I’m just—I’m a little surprised he told you first, that’s all.”

“Oh, it just came up,” Daisuke replies with a shrug while Agumon re-enters the living room and settles the sushi on the table, “we were talking about the concerts we’d like to attend and the conversation sort of shifted.”

Taichi nods at the new information, surprised there was even a conversation to drift away from. He may have gone overboard with the idea in the past few months, but Yamato and Daisuke really didn’t seem to have much to talk about in the past eleven years. That they should start now is unexpected, to say the least.

In fact, Taichi reflects as Daisuke and Veemon settle into their meal without a word, he can’t even remember the last time Daisuke and Yamato had a non-saving-the-world-related conversation that went deeper than social chatter during their group picnics. He’s pretty sure that was before the Reboot though.

The two halves of their group have grown a little too stretched apart after the fact for the contrary to be very likely.

Taichi watches Veemon and Daisuke wolf their meal down in record time before they retreat to their room for well-deserved sleep, then goes to take care of the dishes in a bit of a haze, unable to get the fact that Yamato told Daisuke about his visit before anyone else. Why would he?

{ooo}

Taichi finds himself paying far too much attention to Daisuke’s texting habits, to the point where Agumon feels compelled to ask if he’s going to try finding the boy a partner again.

“Certainly not!” Taichi replies, almost—but not quite—offended by the suggestion, “I learned my lesson, and Daisuke doesn’t deserve to go through that again.”

Plus, it’s not like Ken didn’t suffer from it, either. Just because Taichi never really had the guts to talk to him about it doesn’t mean he can’t realize what he did to the guy.

“I’m just curious.”

Obsessed would probably be a more accurate description, but he’s pretty sure that would only make people panic again, which would be doubly frustrating considering he’s doing fairly well in terms of recovery so far.

He goes out to the gym every day—even got a subscription specifically for that purpose—keeps a tally of the conversation he has to make sure he stays in touch with his friends—Sora called him excessive when she saw the picture, but Jyou and Noeru both said the important part was that it worked, so Taichi doesn’t mind. He’s even taken to block at least five hours every weeks to spend time with Agumon without talking about politics—at least not the ones they’re involved with.

He’s doing so well his therapist complimented him on his progress during their last session! He did tell her having a plan made everything easier, but when he pointed the flaw in her reasoning, Agumon said having a plan didn’t mean you’d put it all to work, which warmed up his heart.

(Yamato said ‘shut up, you’re doing great’ which made him snort.)

And yet, through it all, Taichi can’t get the thought of Daisuke and Yamato texting out of his head.

It’s at the forefront of his mind when he passes through the living room and finds Daisuke typing away on his phone, when he hears it ring with one of the Teenage Wolves’ most popular tunes, when Yamato takes a little longer than usual to answer in their conversations. It’s ridiculous, obsessive, and inconvenient, but no amount of logic or trying to talk himself out of it manages to calm Taichi down, so he does the second best thing to talking things out with Yamato: he calls Sora.

“It’s getting way out of hands,” he tells her after they’ve exchanged a couple of pleasantries, keeping his voice quiet so Agumon, lying next to him in the bed, won’t wake up, “I need to figure something out.”

“No offense, Taichi,” Sora chuckles into the phone between two bites of what must be a very late dinner, “but your personal relationships are always getting out of hand.”

Taichi opens his mouth to protest, flailing at empty air when the words stay stuck in his throats, and it’s easy for Sora to keep going through his surprised spluttering:

“You’re still joking about Hikari and Takeru breaking off,” she says—Taichi sees her tick the item off with her fingers, and he protests:

“They still might!”

“We have a betting pool to know how soon they’ll get engaged,” Sora deadpans, face going completely blank on Taichi’s computer screen, “even Jyou noticed. Also, you’re somehow the one who misgenders Noeru most often despite being one of her most vocal support when she came out—”

“I’m distracted!” Taichi pouts, and Sora’s face softens when she chuckles.

It doesn’t prevent her from continuing, however, and Taichi winces when she raises a third finger:

“You convinced yourself Daisuke and Ken would make an okay couple even—”

“I have an excuse for this one,” Taichi interjects, but his ears grow hot anyway, and Sora plows on:

“Even though we gave you extensive—and, I assume, loud, in Yamato’s case—warning that you were making a mistake. And of course, there’s the part where you never stopped asking me for advice on how to deal with Yamato, even when we broke up and I really needed you to pay attention to me, too.”

Taichi winces again, ears burning harder as the list of his failures goes on, and he almost reaches for Agumon before he decides against it. He messed up, more than once, and sometimes in an epic fashion, but just because he needs comfort right now doesn’t mean he should prevent a friend from getting some well-deserved rest after heavy construction work in the Digiworld.

He’ll have to handle that alone.

“Sora,” he starts, lowering his voice a little, “I’m so—”

“I’m over it,” Sora promises before he can finish, “and besides, it’s not like you didn’t care about me back then. We all know you care—that’s part of why we like you—it’s just that you’re always one interpersonal crisis away from disaster.

“Thanks,” Taichi manages, half-sarcasm, half something a little heavier, “you’re making me feel so much better.”

“I’m your friend,” Sora replies in a stern voice, one hand playing with the tip of her hair, “I’m supposed to tell you the truth, not just what you want to hear.”

“I’m pretty sure Yamato agrees with you on that,” Taichi mutters, and this time there’s a real grin on Sora’s face when she answers:

“How did you think we managed six years together exactly?”

“Sugar and spice and everything nice?” Taichi asks, trying to steer the conversation back to lighter grounds, “the power of love and friendship bracelets?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sora sighs.

Taichi blows a raspberry at her in retaliation, and the long moment they spend making increasingly stupid faces at each other takes at least ten years off of Taichi’s shoulders, time slipping away as easily as puffing his cheek and going cross-eyed. Times like these never fail to remind him exactly why the two of them became—and stayed—friends, and by the time they remember to stop, if only so they’ll finish dealing with the important stuff, Taichi couldn’t keep a fond grin off his lips if he tried.

(He really, really doesn’t.)

“Seriously though,” he says after a short, comfortable silence, “what do you think they even talk about? It’s like they can’t get enough of each other.”

Sora frowns at the word, quite possibly—and, if Taichi is being honest, legitimately—wondering how Taichi knows that, but she doesn’t ask the question, for which Taichi is actually pretty grateful. This conversation is embarrassing enough in itself, there’s no need to add to it.

“I don’t know,” Sora says with a shrug, “they like each other, I guess. The worse that could happen is you get your wish and Daisuke ends up dating one of us.”

“I didn’t say I wanted him to date one of us!” Taichi protests, but doesn’t insists when Sora levels him with a blank stare.

He did kind of say that, after all, it just—well, it never occurred to him that Yamato could be an option.

“You said he shouldn’t date someone who ‘doesn’t know what it’s like to be one of us,” Sora insists, driving the point home with finger quotes, “either way, if they do end up dating, you should be happy.”

There’s a short pause, and then Sora only sounds half-teasing when she asks:

“Unless you’re thinking of getting involved?”

“Oh no!” Taichi replies immediately, raising his hands in defense and protest, “no, I’ve learned my lesson there, and Yamato would never forgive me anyway.”

“He totally would.”

“Maybe,” Taichi concedes, unsure of how aware Sora is of Yamato’s dating-related issues, “but he’d give me a hard time about it, and he’d be right to. No, I’m not doing anything about it—but I can still have opinions.”

“Fair enough,” Sora concedes with a nod, “so what’s yours?”

“It’s a call for disaster?” Taichi says, maybe a little bit too fast to sound entirely casual. “I mean, Yamato can be as anal as Jyou sometimes, except he’s harsher about it, and Daisuke is loud, impulsive, disorganized—”

“Okay first of all,” Sora cuts off with a roll of her eyes, “I’m pretty sure you’re talking about who he was five years ago, maybe longer. And secondly, Yamato has been dealing with your disorganized butt for nearly fifteen years and he’s not dead yet.”

Taichi closes his mouth, forced to admit Sora has a point, and nods in concession. He still thinks a romantic relationship between Daisuke and Yamato would be a bad idea, but it’s not like there’s anything he can do about it—he meant what he said about remaining uninvolved for everyone’s sake.

“Yeah,” he admits, hoping his disappointment doesn’t bleed into his voice, “I guess you’re right.”

“Which reminds me, Mimi and I were talking and we thought it’d be nice to have a big gathering for the anniversary. Every-team-in-the-world big.”

Taichi, who was halfway back to ruminating about his problem already, straightens up and blinks at Sora, who’s looking at him with a long-suffering expression.

“You weren’t listening anymore, were you?”

“With one ear,” Taichi mumbles, bowing his head in apology while Sora rolls her eyes.

“Look, I’m pretty sure Yamato told you this already, but if you really think it’s better for Daisuke to date someone who ‘gets it’ then his only real options are Yamato or you. If the two of them dating bothers you so much, maybe you should consider making a move.”

“Wha—a move toward whom?”

“That’s really not my question to answer, Taichi.”

Taichi wants to protest at that—defend himself somehow, although he’s not sure what accusation to defend himself again, but he’ s not quite sur e what t he accusation is here, exactly, so he pushes the topic at the back of his mind and asks Sora about her gathering project.

“I tossed the idea out on the forum,” Sora explains with an excited smile, “lots of people sounded interested, so Mimi and I thought we could do it in August, since that’s when it all started? Plus, it’d give us about six months to prepare, which would make a lot of things easier. What do you think?”

Taichi thinks it’s great, actually—feels his chest stir with excitement for the first time in who knows how many weeks at the thought—and by the time they hang up it’s well past midnight, far later than Taichi usually goes to bed, but the tiredness is worth it.

He dreams about a picnic with hundreds of attendants, and stupid romantic combinations.

{ooo}

February falls on Tokyo with a fresh layer of snow, the weather abnormally cold even for this time of the year. Most children are delighted but Taichi, like many other adult and working-age people mostly wishes there could be a way for bad weather not to make his commute twice as long as usual. One of his teachers has a car accident because of it, forcing him t o go through a whole ordeal in order to find something that accommodates his work, university, and his weekly phone calls with Yamato, which often end up lasting through most of the afternoon.

He spends almost an entire session talking about this—well, about his relationship with Yamato in general, but that’s the starting point.

Not that the topic itself has never come out before—they’re too close, and Yamato has done too much to help Taichi throughout the years and this particular depression for his name to stay entirely out of the conversation. It’s the first time Taichi spends so much time talking about him specifically though—usually, it’s either about the group in general or Agumon in particular, and the numerous ways in which the Reboot still affects them—and the idea makes him chuckle as he texts his friend to say just that.

‘Just leave my awkward moments out of it plz,’ Yamato replies almost instantly—he’s probably hanging around his granddad’s apartment and enjoying a day off right now, the butt. ‘Talk me up if u can.’

‘Should I mention your impeccable taste in shampoos next time?’ Taichi teases back.

‘Its clearly > my taste in men.’

Taichi startles a couple of tourists when he snorts in the middle of the street, but he’s still riding the post-therapy lightness, so he chuckles as he types back:

‘Don’t sell yourself short: you’ve got me as a best friend. It can’t be that bad.’

Yamato sends him a string of grimacing emoji—and one raised fist—at that, and Taichi is halfway through a response in the same spirit when his phone buzzes again:

‘Reminds me: how r things w/ version 2.0?’

Taichi pauses in the street—apologizes when someone bumps into him from behind—and frowns at his phone as he starts walking again, typing at the same time:

‘Fine. We’re going bowling this weekend. Why?’

‘Been a while since I asked.’

‘I’d have thought he’d tell u,’ Taichi replies, muttering as he types, ‘with how much u two talk lately. I thought u didn’t think he was smart enough to talk to?’

‘Turns out I was wrong & hes + interesting when im not being overprotective of both our siblings,’ Yamato replies—Taichi can almost see the shrug that must have come with it.

He wonders, a tad randomly, if Yamato is still having breakfast or if he’s started on the working out part of his day already, but the thought flies out of the window when his phone buzzes again:

‘Y the U of irritation?’

‘I’m not irritated,’ Taichi replies, but his jaw is set and his lips are twitching, and he doesn’t have the faintest idea why.

He gets an eye emoji in response, and tries to decipher the meaning of it for several seconds before he writes back:

‘?’

‘Means I din’t believe u.’

‘??’

‘French expression, dont deflect.’

‘I’m not deflecting,’ Taichi types, and Yamato’s retort comes so fast Taichi almost wonders if he wrote it before he got an answer:

‘Dont lie 2 me, I know ur txting style.’

‘Whatever,’ Taichi replies, ‘just leave it alone.’

He shoves his phone back in his pocket and quickens his pace, ignoring the buzzing against his thigh until it finally stops.

He tries not to think too hard about why that makes him feel worse instead of better.

{ooo}

Yamato is supposed to fly in to Japan during the second week of February, and Taichi barely talks to him through the first week of the month, which is probably why he’s so surprised when Ms. Takashi phones and asks him to come greet Yamato and his grandfather at the airport.

“I’m not sure,” Taichi starts—then he catches himself, clears his throat, and starts again in a steadier voice: “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Ms. Takashi, but shouldn’t Takeru be the one who comes along with you? I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family reunion.”

“Takeru has classes that day,” Ms. Takashi replies—Taichi can hear how strained her smile is as she speaks, and he fiddles with his chopsticks while Agumon, Veemon and Daisuke do a poor job at pretending they’re not trying to listen in.

Strained smiles never bode well for anybody.

“It’s really either you or no one,” Ms. Takashi completes.

Taichi squirms in his seat a little. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Yamato—they’re best friends, for heaven’s sake, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t miss Yamato like crazy but, well. This is a family reunion—it’s meant for families. Not to mention he doesn’t quite feel ready to meet Mr. Takashi just yet.

(The fact that he will probably never be doesn’t do anything to make him feel less nervous, either.)

“I don’t think he’d blame you for coming alone,” Taichi tells Yamato’s mother, and she sighs before she asks:

“May I speak frankly, Taichi?”

“Of course,” Taichi hears himself say, stomach sinking before the words are even fully out of his mouth.

There are conversations you don’t want to have with your best friend’s mother.

He exchanges a look with Agumon anyway, and waits until his partner nods before he excuses himself from the breakfast table, leaving his rice almost untouched. He’ll have time to finish it later, but he’s pretty sure he’s going to appreciate having some privacy to hear the next couple of sentences.

“We don’t understand each other,” Ms. Takashi says while Taichi fumbles with his bedroom door, catching him by surprise, “I don’t remember a time when we did. We’ve had a strained relationship ever since his father and I divorced. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

In all honesty, it would have been hard not to notice—there’s only so many time one can usher you away from a parent—from an apartment—decline invitations under false pretenses and steadfastly avoid discussing their relationship with their family before it becomes suspicious.

Taichi isn’t sure Ms. Takashi knows that more than one of his visits to Yamato’s apartment was canceled because Mr. Ishida came home when he wasn’t supposed to.

“I…had suspicions,” Taichi admits carefully, trying to walk the line between lies and delicacy.

“He doesn’t set a foot at my place unless his brother is there, Taichi,” Ms. Takashi replies in a dry tone, “I’m fairly sure you had more than suspicions.”

Taichi, still standing right behind his door, shifts his weight from foot to foot, ears warming up in embarrassment, then mumbles a feeble acquiescence.

“It’s okay,” Ms. Takashi says. “I’m not thrilled about it, obviously, but I grew used to it. The only thing is, since Takeru won’t be here, and I don’t know how my father will react. You’d be doing me a favor by coming along.”

“Alright,” Taichi says, trying—and failing—to erase the sigh from his voice, “I’ll come. When is he landing again?”

Actually, Taichi knows perfectly well when Yamato and his grandfather will be landing, but asking the question gives him times to digest the conversation—makes it feel more like something ordinary rather than the strange, sort of embarrassing and probably somewhat painful favor Ms. Takashi paints this thing as.

It also prevents him from saying she’s the one doing him a favor there, which is good. He’s not sure how he’d explain that one.

“Six PM,” Ms. Takashi answers—there’s a relief in her voice Taichi has heard in his mother’s words before, and the thought makes him close his eyes against the light as Ms. Takashi says: “I know you live closer to the airport than I do, but I’m a little worried about traffic…can I come and pick you up at four thirty?”

“Yes,” Taichi says after a short pause, hoping the traffic will jam and spare them both thirty minutes of awkwardness, “of course.”

“Perfect,” Ms. Takashi says, voice colored with a tentative smile, “thank you Taichi.”

“It’s not trouble,” Taichi answers without lying, and Ms. Takashi chuckles:

“I know. It’s not the first time you do Yamato a favor that way.”

Taichi wants to protest—say something nice, maybe, say Yamato won’t consider his presence a favor—but the lie sticks against the roof of his mouth and Ms. Takashi answers before Taichi manages to find his tongue.

He pockets his phone with a heavy, tired sigh, and rubs at his temples to stop the headache building there. He can’t bring Agumon along—there wouldn’t be enough space left for Yamato, Gabumon and Mr. Takashi, but boy does he wish he could.

Sighing one last time, he makes his way back to the living room and resumes his seat at the table, breakfast thoroughly unappealing now that his stomach is all in knots. He picks at his rice for a moment, unable to move his thoughts away from the way Ms. Takashi sighed when he agreed to follow her at the airport, and jumps a little when Daisuke asks:

“So, are you going after all?”

“Yes.”

Taichi shrugs and scoops some rice off his bowl—gives himself something to do while Daisuke stares at him like he’s suddenly turned into a puzzle:

“Can’t Takeru go? He’s the guy’s brother.”

“He’s got classes,” Taichi replies, and avoids Veemon and Agumon’s matching stares by looking down at his plate before Daisuke continues:

“Then why doesn’t she go alone? It’s not like she needs you there.”

Taichi closes his mouth tight, takes a deep breath in, and counts to ten before he answers:

“Look, this is complicated.”

“It sounds like Yamato’s mom thinks he won’t be happy to see her,” Daisuke replies, and the genuine curiosity in his demeanor is the only thing that prevents Taichi from snapping when he replies:

“Like I said, it’s complicated. I know it’s his mom, I know it sounds weird, but not everyone has the same family history, okay?”

“Okay,” Daisuke replies, mollified and possibly a tad embarrassed by Taichi’s reaction, “it’s just—I didn’t know about that.”

Taichi shoves another chunk of rice in his mouth before he can say something mean, and tries to ignore the way his stomach clenches at the very impulse.

{ooo}

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he mutters into his pillow later on, when Veemon and Daisuke have left for work and Taichi’s brain couldn’t handle any more studying if his life depended on it, “why would I even want to be mean to my friend over something that stupid?”

He presses his head into the pillow again, hoping against reason that it’ll open up and swallow him whole—or at least suck his brain out of his skull so he can stop wondering if he’s falling back into unmanaged depression or if he’s just a natural butt now.

Agumon, sitting by his hip on the bed, shifts a little—he must have raised his paws, because Taichi feels claws scratch against his ribs—then says:

“Maybe your therapy isn’t helping as much as it should?”

“But it’s going fine!” Taichi replies with too much of a whine for his own comfort, “It’s not perfect but it’s working—I’m doing better aren’t I?”

Taichi turns his head just far enough to see Agumon nod and smile at him, and then he sighs in relief. It’s too soon to start spacing appointments out—Taichi himself doesn’t feel ready for it, although he certainly wouldn’t complain about having one less thing to juggle with in his timetable—but he’s doing better. He’s been a better friend lately, too, which is nice.

Besides, he didn’t stop to think about Daisuke’s feelings when he tried matchmaking last year, so stopping because of them now is…a good sign, he supposes.

The problem being, of course, that it begs the question: what on earth is going on in his stupid brain this time?

“But that makes even less sense,” Agumon says after a beat—this time Taichi stays safely buried in the warm darkness of his pillow—“that would mean you want to do that because you like it or something—you don’t, do you?”

“Of course not!” Taichi protests, turning around fast enough to give himself a headache.

He sits up on the futon, crossing his ankles together and resting his hands on top of them as he stares at the world map on the wall—the pins and flags identifying each team member offer no answer to his questions, though, and he closes his eyes again as he sighs and flops back onto his pillow:

“I don’t like being mean, it’s just—I don’t know. It’s more like I wanted to scold him, but he was just being concerned!”

Silence falls over the bedroom again, and Taichi grabs around his bedside table until his fingers close around the stress ball Jyou gifted him with two years ago. He kneads at the foamy plastic until his forearm starts aching, and he’s only just switched hands when Agumon asks:

“Do you think Yamato should be different with his mom?”

Taichi stretches his neck to look at Agumon again, frowning in confusion:

“Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know,” Agumon shrugs, “maybe you just didn’t want to tell him he was wrong.”

“Agumon, I tell Daisuke he’s wrong about stuff all the time,” Taichi points out, but Agumon shrugs again:

“You’re always harsher when people are wrong about Yamato. Maybe that’s all it is.”

Taichi considers the notion—examines what he knows and thinks about his friend’s life for a long time before he answers, a little more carefully this time:

“I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s sad Yamato and his parents don’t get along—it’s just not my business to tell him what to do. And I don’t think it’s Daisuke’s either, especially if Yamato didn’t talk to him about it.”

“That sounds fair,” Agumon replies, looking out through the window with one paw on his chin, “but if you’re not there to help fix things, maybe Daisuke is right and Ms. Takashi doesn’t need you here.”

“That’s not what I said!” Taichi replies before he even processes the sentence in full, coming face to face with Agumon as he straightens up again, “Just that I’m not going to fix things!”

“Then why did she ask you to come?” Agumon asks, and Taichi shrugs as he tosses the stress ball against the wall:

“She thinks I’ll make things less awkward because I know how things are between her and Yamato.”

“So, maybe if Daisuke knew what things are like, he could have gone as well, right?”

“No!”

Taichi’s cheeks all but burst in flames at the outburst, and he starts torturing his ball again the second it bounces back into his hands, squirming a little under the way Agumon stares at him, like Taichi ended up exactly where he was wanted.

“You know,” Agumon says in a softer, slower voice, “it kind of sounds like you’re just mad at Daisuke because he was puzzled you agreed to go.”

“I’m not Yamato,” Taichi protests, blushing harder as his heartbeat picks up for no real reason, “I don’t feel like a failure if I can’t do my friends a solid every time they have a problem.”

“Maybe,” Agumon answers with another shrug, “but that’s not what I meant. Also, you didn’t make that sound very nice.”

Taichi gapes at Agumon, who smiles like Taichi is missing something very obvious—it’s not a familiar sensation. Either Taichi is usually more perceptive, or Agumon doesn’t bother pointing it out—and exits the room without another word.

{ooo}

The mystery is still intact the next day, when Ms. Takashi pulls up in front of Taichi’s building, hair pulled in an impeccable bun that does nothing to hide the lines around her mouth. Taichi, heavy bags weighing under his eyes, greets her and slips into the passenger seat with a poorly stifled yawn. He has to pull at the door so it’ll shut properly, too distracted to do it right the first time around, and he’s still trying to make sense of Agumon’s words—of his ridiculous, incomprehensible inability to put the thought of Yamato making new friends, or deepening old friendships, to rest—when Ms. Takashi turns the radio on and Taichi jumps so hard he’s pretty sure his hair brushed the car roof.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ms. Takashi says with a nervous smile while she steers the car back in traffic, “It’s just—I sort of assumed we wouldn’t be talking much?”

“It’s okay,” Taichi replies, trying not to look too relieved at the thought, “I just got a little lost in thoughts, that’s all.”

Ms. Takashi nods and, for a while, agonizingly slow traffic and more examples of poor driving Taichi has ever witnessed fill the emptiness between them, Ms. Takashi’s knuckles white on the steering wheel while she grits her teeth at the third car that fishtails her.

Taichi has met all of the chosen children’s parents—as far as the Odaiba group is concerned, that is. He gets along fine with them, for the most part, and he’d even call Kou—Noeru’s mother a friend in her own right, if the thought didn’t sound a little odd even to him. He’s met Daisuke’s parents, Sora’s, Mimi’s, Ken’s—all of them, and he’s had many an interesting, if occasionally awkward, conversation with them.

He’s only even seen glimpse of Ms. Takashi and her apartment, squeezed between two errands Yamato was never willing to postpone, a distant, obviously concerned parental figure whose attempts at creating a bond never truly met a response. It is, technically, more than he’s seen of Mr. Ishida—always busy, always tired, always drifting between work and the oblivion of sleep, something Taichi understands a little better now than he did then—but Mr. Ishida rarely asked questions, and the answers always seemed to have a hard time sticking.

Yamato was always more comfortable with gruff silence than begrudging conversation.

Sitting with Ms. Takashi now, squeezed in a small green car Taichi is fairly sure not even her can be comfortable in, feels a bit like getting stuck in the elevator with a strange neighbor you never quite got around to talk to and be reminded how weird it is to be so distant when you could be so close.

It’s not an exercise Taichi likes to indulge in, and he spends the first leg of the ride pretending he’s very interested in what the radio news have to say, only to wince when his name is mentioned in a cringe-worthy debate—neurodivergent children: should they be allowed to keep their digimon partner? Can they even understand what that entails? Should digimon paired with these children even be considered healthy? Join our experts for the discussion by calling the following number!—and Ms. Takashi starts speaking again:

“Tough debate, isn’t it?” She asks, an obvious opening to start the same discussion in the car.

Taichi doesn’t feel up for that kind for nonsense, though, so he decides to short-circuit it entirely:

“I don’t know a thing about neurogdivergent people,” he says, “but I don’t think a debate on digimon rights that doesn’t invite at least one digimon has much legitimacy to begin with.”

On the radio, Meiko—without Meikoomon, who was barely even mentioned in the introduction—sounds more and more agitated as the debate goes on, and Taichi’s fingers twitch in solidarity.

“May I turn it off?” He asks.

Ms. Takashi nods and turns the knob herself.

“I imagine you have to listen to that kind of things often,” she says quietly, and Taichi doesn’t stop to think before he scoffs and says:

“I wish this was the worst of the nonsense we hear every day.”

He blushes when he realizes the liberty he’s just taken, and glances at Ms. Takashi as he straightens up in his seat. Her eyes are still carefully set on the road, and she doesn’t seem offended—she always did have dif ferent ideas about what was improper or not. Yamato always seemed to think her growing up in Paris was the cause, but then he doesn’t seem to realize he shared that trait with her before he moved to France.

“Sorry,” he says anyway, just in case, “I’ve—hit a rough patch, lately. I’m a little cranky. But I’m doing better now.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ms. Takashi says, “I’m sure things must be a lot to handle.”

Taichi nods and, for a few minutes, they sit in silence together, inching their way toward the airport, until Ms. Takashi makes anther valiant attempt at conversation:

“Takeru tells me you guys are planing a camping trip this summer?”

“Yes,” Taichi replies, hands coming up to fiddle with his seatbelt, “it’s our fifteenth anniversary as chosen children. We thought it’d be nice to celebrate with a little gathering.”

“For a week?” Ms. Takashi asks, smile strained around the edge in her light tone, “that’s quite the pilgrimage.”

Taichi squirms in his seat again, looking down at his knees and tensing up further when Ms. Takashi sighs next to him:

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to talk like it’s a bad thing. It’s been years since anything dangerous happened.”

“Yes,” Taichi mumbles, and doesn’t look up when he notices Ms. Takashi leaning forward from the corner of his eyes.

“Then again, that was also the case last time, and we all—”

She cuts herself off, straightens up, and takes a deep breath in—Taichi squashes the sudden impulse to apologize, knowing it wouldn’t change anything. It’s not like he can promise to stay uninvolved if something else happens in his lifetime. He can barely remain uninvolved during peace time as it is.

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Takashi says again after a few more deep breaths, dropping the attempt at levity, “it’s just that every time you kids go there—”

“My parents don’t like it either,” Taichi admits, somehow managing to bite on a petulant ‘we’re not kids!’ before he makes things really embarrassing.

It’s really not Ms. Takashi’s fault some of his hackles are that easy to rise.

“My dad always arranges his business trips for when we leave. My mom has gotten better at not fussing, but I think she still wants to—I don’t think any of our parents are very big fans of the Digiworld.”

“Can you blame us?” Ms. Takashi retorts, turning to look at Taichi for the first time since they got in the car—he keeps his eyes focused on his knees, but the movement is unmistakable—“every time you guys get called out there, Takeru comes back with more nightmares and a thinner smile, and Yamato becomes even more of a stranger!”

“It’s not always easy,” Taichi says, a beat too late, “but if we don’t do it—”

“’No one else will’, I know,” Ms. Takashi snaps, cutting him off mid-sentence, “that’s what Yamato always says. Don’t think I don’t hear it for the dismissal it is.”

Taichi winces, and steals a glance at Ms. Takashi as the traffic around them eases off a little and the car speeds up in response. The lines around her mouth have grown harsher, eyebrows creasing deep above her eyes, and it’s easy for Taichi to see the way her lips curl into a sneer, even in profile. He’s seen the same face on Yamato enough time to know it anywhere by now.

“Sometimes,” Ms. Takashi admits through gritted teeth, voice low enough Taichi almost doesn’t hear her, “I wish digimons had never entered our lives.”

“You should probably not say that in front of Yamato,” Taichi replies without thinking.

He doesn’t back down when Ms. Takashi turns to glare at him, Takeru’s ‘how thick can you get’ face written all across her features.

They don’t talk for the rest of the ride.

{ooo}

They find Yamato and Mr. Takashi cornered by a small crowd of admirers—digimons mingling with humans in their mid-twenties and Knife of Day shirts, for the most part, although Taichi spots one lone Teenage Wolves fans—waving pens, notebooks and smartphones in Yamato’s face. There can’t be more than twenty persons there—twenty-five, maybe—half of whom seem to have been dragged in by eager partners trying to reach Gabumon more than their own will, but it’s enough to pull at the edge of Yamato’s smile, shoulders rigid as he sidesteps someone’s attempt to grab his shoulders. Taichi snorts at the sight, while Ms. Takashi readjusts some invisible flaw in her hair, pulls her handbag up her shoulder like some kind of armor, and takes a deep breath before she walks up to the little crowd.

Mr. Takashi, a lanky octogenarian with thick-rimmed glasses and a checkered cap on his head, puts a gentle hand on his grandson’s shoulder, and the small gaggle parts almost instantly, revealing a fully-loaded luggage cart with a grinning Gabumon on top of it. Taichi stays a few steps behind Ms. Takashi as she walks up to her son and gives him a brief hug—Yamato, stiff as a board, seems to suffer through it more than he enjoys the contact—before letting her father smack a resounding kiss on each of her cheek and envelop her in a bear hug with cheerful laughter.

Yamato, as soon as he’s left alone, retreats to the luggage cart, clinging at the handle until Gabumon notices Taichi and jumps off the suitcases to greet him.

“I didn’t think anyone would be here,” Gabumon exclaims as he reaches up to shake Taichi’s hand, “what with Takeru being busy and all!”

“I’m just subbing,” Taichi replies with a face-swallowing grin that belies his shrug, “I’ve got instructions and everything.”

“I missed your stupid jokes,” Yamato says with a snort, and all of a sudden Taichi finds himself pulled into a hug that leaves him flabbergasted for the three seconds it lasts.

He blinks when Yamato releases him, heat spreading across his cheeks as he checks the airport—nobody staring.

“Is that how they greet people in France?” He asks, mock-offense failing to resist Yamato’s wide smile.

“Come visit and you’ll know.”

Taichi rolls his eyes at that, but instead of serving Yamato the same jokes about the French being lazy and permanently on holidays, he goes for sincerity and says:

“I missed your stupid face.”

It finally stopped growing sharper, leaving enough of the teenager Yamato once was for him to be recognizable in a second, even for strangers. He’s got broader shoulders now, probably due to the intense exercise his chosen career requires . His hair has grown longer again, almost back to shoulder length, and when Taichi gives him a once over, it’s easy to notice the blue lines peaking from under his coat sleeve.

“Dude,” Taichi exclaims, “eyebrows rising to the top of his scalp, when did you get a tattoo?”

“Last September,” Yamato says with a shrug. “I wasn’t feeling too well, and I needed something to get me back on track that wouldn’t make Papy freak out.”

He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Taichi sort of wants to scold him for joking about his suicide attempt, no matter how old it is—Takeru doesn’t know about it, though, which means Ms. Takashi definitely doesn’t know, and cowardly as it may be Taichi really doesn’t want to have to break the news to her. He settles for exchanging a long-suffering glance with Gabumon, whose answering smile looks too brittle for Taichi’s taste.

“Wanna see?”

Taichi nods, and stands back as Yamato pulls the fabric up to reveal all nine of their crests—friendship at the top, then courage, reliability, love, hope, knowledge, honesty, light, and kindness— lining up from the tip of his wrist to the crook of his elbow . Taichi’s eyes widen.

“Woah,” he says, a little more hoarsely than he planned for, “I knew you liked us but I didn’t know it went that far.”

“Don’t worry,” Yamato replies with a shrug, “when we did tests to see what Hogwarts house we’d get, my friends were convinced I’d end up in Ravenclaw.”

“Dude,” Taichi says with a disbelieving raise of his eyebrows, “has any of them ever actually met you?”

Yamato scoffs, but there’s a smile curling at his lips, and Taichi’s grin widens again in response, shoulders unlocking as they speak. It really is good to be reunited to such a close—and old—friend, like getting a piece of your own life back.

Like all good things, though, it must come to an end, in this case because Ms. Takashi is done greeting her father, and she moved toward her son, shoulder sliding between Taichi and Yamato—just an inch, but it’s enough for Taichi to take the hint and step back, wondering how his friend manages not to pull a muscle when his face closes off that fast.

“Hi, Yamato,” Ms. Takashi says, shoulders squared under her elegant brown winter coat.

Yamato is wearing a leather—or leather-like—jacket, and Taichi almost wonders if he did it on purpose, just so he could keep as much distance between them as possible, even on the visual scale. He greets his mother with a stiff gesture, Gabumon stepping closer to his knee, and Taichi worries at his lips with teeth—until Mr. Takashi walks up to him with a large smile and holds a hand out:

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Kamiya.”

“Pleased to meet you too,” Taichi replies with an embarrassed smile, “how did you know—”

“Yamato has some pictures in his room,” Mr. Takashi explains, “he showed them to me after your little friend visited us.”

The tips of Taichi’s ears heat up.

“About that,” he says, running a hand over his neck, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay long enough to greet you, I was—”

“That’s quite alright, young man. You had other things to think about at the time.”

Taichi manages an apologetic grimace, then turns to look at Yamato and Ms. Takashi, whose conversation took a sharp rise in volume before going back down. From the corner of his eyes, Taichi sees Mr. Takashi frown, deep line moving around his mouth, along with a long scar up his neck.

“Are they always like that?”

Yamato and his mother look about three words away from a genuine argument—him, his shoulders tense as he shoves his hands deep inside his jacket and her, tall and ramrod straight behind the numerous buttons of her coat. Between them, Gabumon has a hand firmly pressed in the crook of Yamato’s knee, eyes riveted on the conversation above his head, and Taichi sighs.

“Not where I can see them,” he admits, “but I don’t think it’s very different from their usual.”

Yamato, for all that he’s got a perfectly ordinary human body, manages to look prickly enough to put a porcupine to shame, and Taichi crosses his arms over his chest as he watches him hiss something at his mother, jaw tense and shoulders set. Beside him, Mr. Takashi mutters something in French that sounds somewhat long-suffering, and Taichi wonders, not for the first time, which parent Yamato got his stubbornness from.

Gabumon doesn’t seem to have any idea what to do.

“Somehow,” Mr. Takashi says after a few seconds of silence, “I’m not surprised. He’s exactly like his mother at his age.”

“Really?” Taichi asks, unable not to turn back to the man in curiosity.

“Oh, yes. She used to fight with her mother and I about our moving to France all the time, until she turned twenty-one and her birthday gift to herself was a one-way ticket to Tokyo.”

Taichi blinks for a second, before a wry smile twists at his lips and he signs:

“Fast forward thirty odd years, and here we are.”

“Pretty much,” Mr. Takashi says, with something not unlike pride coloring his voice, “although Nancy tells me you are quite adept at dealing with this aspect of my grandson’s personality?”

“Yeah,” Taichi mumbles, rubbing at his neck again, “my sister says we’re the biggest boneheads she’s ever met.”

Mr. Takashi laughs—a brief bark of sound that throws his head back and bursts out of him like a balloon popping—and Taichi can’t help but look toward Yamato for help a this, startled by such an intense reaction. Yamato notices him—seizes the occasion to turn away from his mother and exchange a couple of sentences in French with his grandfather, before Mr. Takashi suggests it might be time to get going.

Yamato commandeers the luggage cart before anyone has time to make a move for it, and Taichi ends up sandwiched between him and Mr. Takashi, Ms. Takashi walking at the other end of the line, heels punctuating their advance with resonating clicks. They make their way to the elevator shrouded with awkwardness, Mr. Takashi somehow managing to maintain a steady stream of questions that Taichi can’t quite answer with monosyllables, which counts as their conversation for the time being.

They cover Taichi’s job—stripped down to its barest bones—his wishes for the future—keep doing exactly what he is now—his family life—fine, for the most part—and how his and Yamato’s friendship began—with a fistfight or ten, more or less, which makes the old man laugh like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard again—before Mr. Takashi shakes a finger in Taichi’s direction and says:

“I almost forgot to ask! How is little Kotomon—”

“Koromon,” Yamato corrects—Taichi imagines he can hear his jaw crack when he opens his mouth, and bites at the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter in.

“Right,” Mr. Takashi continues, taking the interruption in stride, “how is Koromon doing?”

“Uh, fine, for the most part. He’s been working with me more these days so he’s tired, but nothing like it was the last time you saw him.”

“I certainly hope so,” Mr. Takashi says in a stern voice as they reach the elevators—Yamato’s yelp of protest mingles with the bell announcing the opening of doors, and Taichi’s ears heat up.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands while he twists his fingers together, “he says ‘hi’, by the way.”

“Likewise,” Mr. Takashi answers with a small, seriousness leaving his face as fast as water wiped off with a towel, “I did tell him not to be a stranger—but perhaps, the best way to avoid that is to have you come and dine with us at some point this week? I would love to spend some time with a young man my grandson speaks so highly of.”

“Papy!” Yamato yelps, face growing at least three shades redder while his mother splutters:

“I’m sure Taichi will be very busy—”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Takashi dismisses with a wave of his hand, “it’s only one evening—and I’m sure you’ve had him over plenty of time by now, it’ll hardly be a new experience at all.”

Taichi keeps his face ostensibly turned toward his hands, but he keeps an eye out for Yamato’s reaction nonetheless, and he’s fairly sure he sees him look at his mother for a bit before she speaks:

“If we’re going to have Taichi over,” she say, “we might as well invite Hikari too—she’s Taichi’s sister,” she adds for her father’s benefit, “and Takeru’s girlfriend.”

“It doesn’t have to be a family gathering, mom,” Yamato mutters from Taichi’s left side, earning himself a glare from Ms. Takashi.

“It’s not my fault Takeru is involved with your closest friend’s sister.”

“I’m only the second closest,” Taichi blurts out without thinking, “but maybe Gabumon has a sister.”

Yamato slaps a hand over his face, deafening in the resounding silence that falls over the cabin, and Taichi does his best to make himself as small as humanly possible.

He’s not sure the way Mr. Takashi bursts out laughing a few seconds later really makes anything better.

[theblogspotdotcom]

5 Reasons You Shouldn't Feel Bad About Not Talking To Toxic Parents

ByGABRIELLE MOSS

Sept 23 2015



The last time I heard my mom's voice, she was cussing me out on my voicemail. I hadn't heard it for a few months prior at that point — I was in the middle of my third or fourth attempt to stop talking to my mother, and I'd made a practice of not listening to her hurtful voice messages, reading her emails, or opening her letters. Just overhearing the muffled sound of her agitated voice, as my boyfriend listened to the voicemail for me, was enough to ruin my day. But it also helped me confirm that not talking to my mother was still the right decision for me.

If you're reading this, then know that not talking to a parent or other family member might be the right choice for you, too. Maybe you're an old hand at not talking (or going "no contact," as it is sometimes called). Maybe you just stopped talking to a toxic parent yesterday. Or maybe you're just beginning to consider the idea that limiting your contact with a family member who manipulates, guilts, or otherwise emotionally harms you might make life better. No matter what phase you're in, you've likely received a lot of pushback, both from your parent and the world at large, about your decisions. Friends might be confused, or even tell you that you're selfish ( a sentiment that the toxic family member whom you've disconnected from has almost definitely seconded).

And the judgment doesn't stop with people you know. If you Google the phrase "not talking to my parents," you'll primarily find resources aimed at soothing parents who have been cut off — or, at the very least, aimed at shaming children who did the cutting off. Most major articles about kids who are estranged from their parents, like this 2012 article from AARP, take the parent's side, accepting their confusion about why their child cut off contact at face value, and judging the child for being self-absorbed.

To use some extremely serious journalistic terminology right now: uh, no. If you've stopped talking to a parent, it's probably a struggle every day to keep doing it. But you shouldn't feel guilty or bad about the decision, should you make it. Here are five reasons why.

1. You're Doing What's Right For You

Odds are that you didn't come to this decision lightly. Despite what many "experts" would have you believe, we actually live in a world that makes it as difficult as possible to cut off communication with a family member, especially a parent. So actually taking this step probably means that your relationship with your parent was so toxic that you felt like you had no other option.

Of course, some people will be unable to believe this. They legitimately can't imagine anything "bad enough" to cause someone to stop speaking to a family member.

But that's OK. Your life is not limited by what your friends, co-workers, or other family members can imagine. Your choices don't have to be relatable to your roommate or best friend in order to be right for you. You're the one who knows exactly how interacting with this family member hurts you. You're the only one who has to live with the aftershocks of maintaining this relationship, and so you're the only one whose experience matters when deciding what to do.

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2. You're Not Alone

While you may feel like you're the only person on earth who's had to deal with something like this, you're not. And while a quick Google may primarily reveal materials aimed at parents who have been cut off, the Internet is actually chock-full of support communities for folks with toxic parents, including those who have broken contact with them.

I've personally found Reddit's raisedbynarcissists community to be a godsend — just reading posts by people who have had the kind of experiences that were once a part of my daily life with my mother (but are beyond the wildest reaches of most of my friends' imaginations) really helps me, and reminds me that I've made the right choice.

There are great books out there on this subject, too — the recent Mothers Who Can't Love by Susan Forward (who also wrote the classic self-help volume Toxic Parents) was immensely helpful for me.

There are also tons of great personal essays out there about being estranged from parents, which can help you feel comforted and understood. I recently read an excellent one by Katja Bak on Medium; the takeaway beautifully distilled the struggle of the estranged child: "It’s okay to let go of your family. Society tells us that family is number one in your life — they come first ... They would do anything for you, and you would do anything for them. It’s not always the case. The truth is, they are just people. They are not infallible. They are not perfect. They can be bad, and cruel, and toxic — despite being your blood. And it’s okay to walk away. It’s okay. It is okay."

3. You're The Best Judge Of What Happened (Or Is Happening) To You

Emotionally abusive or manipulative parents often make a practice of constantly questioning their child's reality and experiences. Our childhoods were full of moments of being told that problematic parental behavior "never happened," that a problem our parent created doesn't matter because they "did the best they could," or that an event that traumatized us "didn't happen like that."

Telling someone that the things they remember didn't happen is a tool of emotional control called "gaslighting" — and a lot of people who cut off contact with their parents have been gaslighted so hard and for so long that they barely have a handle on reality sometimes. In my own life, my mother and I were the only people in our home, and thus, all our conflicts were her word against mine. When my word conflicted with hers, she went to great efforts to proclaim that my memory was cloudy or that I was a liar — to the point where today, at 33, I barely trust my own memory of where I left my keys, let alone my memories of interacting with other human beings.

As you can imagine, trusting my memory of my mother's hurtful behavior was pretty difficult. But I got there eventually. Not all children who have toxic parents were gaslighted, but many were. Your parents may have done it on purpose, or they may have done it simply because they had mental health issues or other problems that kept them from being able to empathize with you or see any perspective besides their own.

But your experiences are real. Just because your parents claim that they "did the best they could" doesn't mean that they actually did — and even if they did, the fact that they did their best doesn't mean that you are obligated to be emotionally wounded by them for the rest of their life. You know best how your relationship with your parents impacts your life.

4. You Can Find Your Own Support System

The idea that pushing away your family means that no one will ever love or support you is a common threat used against children who are trying to cut off contact, but it is very, very untrue. If anything, ending a relationship with a toxic parent (and the toxic love that they provide) may give you an opening in your life to accept genuine love and support for the first time.

In my own life, my mother's love had a stranglehold on me; she regularly made sure to do everything she could to sabotage my friendships, romances, and professional relationships. Despite her threats that no one would ever care about me besides her, I found that building a life apart from her allowed me to find a real network of friends, and a truly loving boyfriend, for the first time.

Your new support system can be anyone — a "chosen family" of friends, a partner, members of an online or real-life support group, a sympathetic and understanding therapist — as long as they get it. And you will find someone who gets it. A good therapist, in particular, is trained to understand things about human relationships and families that might be hard for other people to hear, so they can be a great place to start when building your support network. But remember: You're not crazy for feeling this way, and someone else is going to understand.

5. You May Talk Again Some Day

This may be a good thing — your parents are willing to try to develop a healthy relationship! Hooray! Or it may be a bad thing (i.e. you initiate contact because you miss them, and end up opening every wound you've healed in your time of no contact). But not talking to a parent does not often last forever.

You can use this to soothe yourself if you feel bad about it, but you should also keep it in mind if you initiate contact and end up regretting it. Wanting to be in contact with a parent is a very natural urge, and you shouldn't blame yourself if this urge motivates you to do something that is ultimately bad for you.

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Though I've been actively putting distance between my mother and myself for nearly a decade, I've also re-initiated contact with her a number of times — because I was worried about her health, because I felt lonely, because I wanted to see our aging family dog. Yes, things got out of control almost immediately every time, and I regretted reaching out, but we need to be easy on ourselves when stuff like this happens. It's not your fault for hoping or wanting — and it's also not a mark against you if it doesn't work out.

So remember, no matter what, that you're not nuts and you're not alone. No one — not even the people who birthed you — are automatically entitled to your time or energy if they hurt you.

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

so my valentines was spent...

at work in 4°F with basically a blizzard running out orders or handing them out of the window and constantly cleaning up slush bc the dumbasses who not only came to get some ~chicky strips and borgers~ in a blizzard BUT DECIDED TO SKIP THE QUICK DRIVE THRU AND WALK INSIDE TO GET FOOD AND HAVE TO CAREFULLY WALK BACK. and they couldnt even be bothered to TRY to stomp their shoes off on the welcome mat thing??? lmfao

but there really wasnt many customers which was especially weird for a sunday (yeah there was a blizzard but the people of my town are utter morons) so there was a lot of down time

that sounds nice but i then spent the rest of the time anxious af about not knowing what to do with all that down time bc ik the managers would start getting upset if things werent getting done like they do normally but like??? you can only clean so much and restock so much??? what do i do then??? fake clean or fake check stock????

anyways that lead up to me during my last hour suddenly realizing my anxiety at work is directly influenced by how my f*ther will get annoyed and snippy if he thinks everyone is sitting around or not doing the task HE thinks needs to be done (even if im working on homework he still acts annoyed that im not doing his thing) and is constantly wanting to know what we are doing/where we are going which leads to me constantly telling my managers “im getting the mop” so they know my whereabouts bc im just so used to being monitored ig

and also on days my moms at work i have to act as her stand in and constantly be at his side asking what he needs me to do to avoid getting passive aggressive remarks or his chihuahua growl or whatever (high pitched but still low and dangerous sounding) for not being his mom or whatever the fuck you wanna call the horrible relationship between him and my mother

and this is an old realization but the reason why im so good with customers is bc living w my f*ther for 23 years has made me exceptionally good at pampering and bending to every whim to pacify customers. im so used to hearing him pretend like hes the only one thats right and as soon as someone else has A Point he makes A Point of shutting us down and saying that hes right--end of story. or not reading the signs and acting like its our fault they (he) didnt understand

oh and he drove me to work today too so i had to spend an awkward 10 minutes w him and he was already in a foul mood bc he took my mom to work and ig when he got back he needed to let addie out to pee so she didnt make a mess of the garage floor and accidentally set off the alarm and was cussing at me to just close the door bc the dog was nosing her way there (never answering my question of whether he thought the roads were safe or not for him to take me) and then we kept having this back and forth argument on the way there (basically he wanted me to keep my phone on me at all times in case the weather got bad so he could call me lmao as if i could answer at work LMAO but i kept trying to explain my pockets were too small for my new phone and somehow he thought NOTHING fit in my pockets and THEREFORE i needed to give him everything except my license and credit card until i finally repeated it enough times ig he finally figured out my WALLET AND KEYS can fit in my pocket but my PHONE cannot but i can safely store it away in the break room.) that was making me nervous bc i could tell he was ready to snap and i was just trying my best to remain calm and explain. 

and i had my near-breakdown or panic/anxiety attack (whichever one involves shortness of breath/squeezing chest/feeling of dread/shaking) at the end of my shift and got scared shitless when i noticed his car in the parking lot about 15 min before i was scheduled to go and so i snuck back to the back to check my messages and make sure he wasnt needing me there asap so i didnt hafta hear him bitch about waiting on me. he said to take my time and “whenever” which is always a precarious place like “whenever you can” or “whenever so long as its like right now” and so once i left i was trying hard not to shake and keep anxiously dumping my day to him so there was no room for him to talk 

also the anxiety killed my stomach and so did the fact they put me on break early so only breakfast foods and the combo of early morning + eating = nausea and gagging through my food and then dinner was ribs which my f*ther took to DROWNING in bbq sauce for his own needs and the fact that those ribs make me sick bc of one time where i had a HORRIBLE headache and ate one bite before getting sick so now my brain associates the taste/smell w getting sick so theres that. oh and sauce in general makes me sick and like i said this shit was DROWNING in bbq sauce. oh and he made egg salad (which i dont eat) and when my mom got back from work he asked her if it tasted right and she said “more mayo and sugar” and he did and the mayo was SO DISGUSTINGLY STRONG SMELLING it nearly tipped my stomach over the edge.

 so all of that combined means i feel sick af...mentally AND physically...