#<- suicide plan is by needle but anyway

[vantasei]

ok gang im getting on tgel now either i become more suicidal or less suicidal what do we think will happen to me knowing my track record

[just-jordie-things]

the blackest day - fushiguro megumi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: shibuya + light culling game arc spoilers but not very canon compliant lmfao. suggested major character death, heavy themes of depression (not reader) including: not eating, insomnia, feelings of worthlessness + suicidal ideation. mentions of needles, stitches, + blood. heavy angst with a happy ending. summary: megumi tried to tell her not to go to that station. all he can do now is think that he should've tried harder. more info: rivals/friends to lovers, lots of hurt/some comfort, megumi has reached ultimate functioning angst in this ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s not easy for me to talk about // i have heavy heartstrings.  and not simple, it’s trigonometry // it’s hard to express // i can’t explain // ever since my baby went away, it’s been the blackest day ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I don’t care that they assigned me to go with Nanami,” 

Her voice came out in a huff, irritation getting the better of her, and it was starting to become quite noticeable.  Her chest was puffed, her lips were pulled into a snarl that looked completely unnatural on her usually bright features.  The hand that wasn’t holding a short sword was curled into a fist so tight it began to tremble.

“Itadori needs my help more” She finished, sounding sure of this change of plan.

Megumi cursed under his breath, this petty argument being the last thing he was in the mood for.  There was no time for some ridiculous change in team ups.  The pairings had already been decided, and had happened for a reason.  With a veil over Shibuya making communication impossible, a change like this was absurd.

“You don’t get to just pick and choose what you want to do, (y/n),” He snapped back at her, before aggressively pointing in the direction of Nanami’s team, where he and Takuma had just taken off.  

It hadn’t been until too late that Megumi caught (y/n) hovering away from her group, looking lost under a flickering street lamp as she gazed off in the opposite direction of her team, chewing on her lip as she worried about her other classmate headed for the train station.  Had Megumi noticed sooner, he probably wouldn’t be standing here fighting with her right now.  He probably could’ve hollered for Nanami or Takuma to circle back and drag her off if they had to.  But they were too far gone now to yell after, and his phone was useless.

“These teams were drawn up for a reason,” He muttered.  “Now you’ve rendered it useless” 

She rolls her eyes at his drama, turning to head off towards the train station, not caring about winning this argument.  There were more important things to do right now than stand here and bicker with Megumi.  She was getting tired of this repetitive game of his anyways.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He took a large step towards her, making her halt in her tracks before she could get very far.

“I told you,” She snapped back.  “I’m going after Yuuji.  Something’s not right.  I can feel it” 

Megumi’s eyes widened and twitched.

“You can’t be serious” 

“Does it look like I’m joking?” 

Her expression didn’t flinch.  He could tell by the hardness in her eyes that she’d set her mind to this new plan of hers, and no matter how stupid it was, he knew deep down she wasn’t going to waver on it.

“You’re not going off on your own,” Megumi scoffs, hoping he could get her to see that she’d be walking right into a trap if she split off by herself.  “Do you even know your way there?” 

“I think I’m capable of reading street signs, Fushiguro” 

Surname.  Ouch.  He was only succeeding in pissing her off.

“Just- god, just come with me, alright?” He suggests instead, thinking a compromise would sway her.  “Going off by yourself right now is reckless and you know it.  Come on.  If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t let me do this” 

Her eyes narrow, and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not going to stand here and play the ‘what if’ game with you,” She told him.  “You’re wasting time.  If you cross paths with anyone, tell them I went after Yuuji”

“(y/n)-” 

Before he could come up with another argument- or resort to picking her up off the ground and forcing her not to go- she was already turning on her heels and breaking into a full sprint.

Megumi had tried to follow her, but she’d always been faster than him.  He called after her until his throat burned raw.  Eventually he had to go off with his own team, knowing if he strayed too far then he was putting himself at just as great a risk as she’d been.

But fuck, had he made a mistake in not pushing himself to follow her.

Even if they’d both died trying to get to Yuuji, he thinks it would’ve been better than this.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Megumi wakes up that morning looking like he was in just as terrible of a state as he had the day before.  And the day before that.  And every day before that for the last six days.

It had been a week since the incident with Shibuya, and with every day that passed and the more ground they covered, Megumi was starting to feel worse.

Yuuta silently offered up an apple he’d found at the last shop they’d raided.  Megumi barely glanced at it before shaking his head, going right to work rolling up the sleeping bag that was starting to get worn and dirty.  Yuuta frowned, crouching down beside the younger man to talk quietly with him.

“You should eat something,” He suggests calmly.  “When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?” 

Megumi tries not to appear annoyed.  He knows Yuuta is only trying to look out for him, he’d been trying to look out for everyone.  Unfortunately since the impact of Shibuya, it was hard to keep everyone in check and healthy.

“Ate last night” Megumi replied.

Yuuta frowned.

“You had a bite of a loaf of bread” He replied knowingly.

Megumi paused in his movements, his sleeping bag rolled up part way, and his eyes caught the beginnings of a hole that he hadn’t noticed before.  It must’ve gotten caught on some rubble or debris and torn the nylon.  He frowned at the supposed tear-proof material.  If it worsened it would be a nuisance, and if he was out of a sleeping bag, well, who knew when or if he’d come across another one.

Pushing that worry off for a later time, he glanced at Yuuta over his shoulder.  His face was blank, as it had been for the better part of the last week.

“You don’t need to keep tabs on me,” He said.  “I’m fine” 

Yuuta held his stare for a long moment, hoping that if he let the lie sit there for long enough, Megumi would realize how empty it sounded.  

But he didn’t budge.

So Yuuta sighs, standing and dropping the apple back into a paper bag and rolling it up so it’d tuck neatly in the backpack of supplies they’d been gathering.

“You know eventually, you’ll need to eat something,” He says matter-of-factly.  “If we come across something and you don’t have the energy to fight-” 

“I said I’m fine” 

Despite the harsh words, Megumi’s voice is monotone, and not all that loud.  In fact, he’s almost whispering.  It only sends a chill of worry through Yuuta’s demeanor.  He’d already been stressing over his well being- not to mention Maki’s, and Itadori’s- it was starting to be a weight on his shoulders keeping an eye on everyone.

It wasn’t that he was burdened by his friends or the guilt they bore, but after a certain amount of time, he just didn’t know how to help anymore.

Yuuji was completely unable to separate himself from Sukuna, taking on the destruction of Shibuya and blaming himself for the entire catastrophe.  All the death, the chaos, and where they found themselves now, the boy could barely keep it together.  Yuuta had only known him for a short amount of time, and even he found his behavior to be unsettling.

Maki had slain her entire bloodline.  All but her sister, who had died trying to protect her, trying to make her stronger, so that when she broke free from their twisted clutches, she was able to take down every single one of them.  Yuuta had barely approached the subject.  No one did, really.  Maki had briefly mentioned it when they all grouped together, and since then, it’d been radio silence.

And Megumi… well, Megumi was still beating himself up over (y/n).  It didn’t matter what anyone said.  It didn’t matter that Yuuji held onto some sliver of hope that she’d made it out of Shibuya before shit really hit the fan.  It was as though Megumi had tuned everything out.  They practically watched him dim before them, a burnt out bulb that wouldn’t light again no matter how much they prodded and tried.

For now, Yuuta let him be.  The gang packed up their supplies from the spot they’d crashed the night before, and without much talk at all began moving again.  Here and there they talked about direction, and brainstormed how to get around stealthily, but other than that, it was mostly a quiet journey.

Megumi remained completely silent.  One hand on the strap of his sleeping bag over his shoulder, the other shoved in his pocket.  Distantly he recognized that his stomach was aching and his mouth was dry, and he was sure he was also in desperate need of a shower, too.  But even as the thoughts crossed his mind, they seemed to float away and fade into nothing.  Just like everything else that tried to fill the time in his head, it was always replaced by the overwhelming gnaw of grief.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to eat.  It wasn’t like there was much food to go around anyways.  Wasn’t everyone else much more deserving of a healthier portion? What had he done in comparison to everyone else in this makeshift group of people who were once peers but now that Jujutsu Society had fallen apart… did they even have anything else in common?

Just as the mental downward spiral began, it was washed away once more by the reminder that it didn’t matter anyways.  Guilt and loss settled at the forefront of his thoughts again, and he kept his head down as he continued walking.

The ironic part about all of this was that if she had been here, she’d laugh at him and smack him upside the head.  Everything matters, dummy, he could almost hear her scolding him, with no bite to her bark, just as always.  She always had something dumb to say like that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Stop being so gloomy, ‘gumi!” She’d hollered, followed by a string of laughter as she skipped up to him, turning her back to Nobara and Yuuji, who happily kept walking along to the next shop on their trip.

“Definitely don’t ever call me that again” He muttered back, crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes in distaste for the nickname.  She laughed again, stopping just before him on the sidewalk, just as their friends entered a boutique, leaving them behind.

“Oh yeah?” She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at him, and he wonders if she knows that their friends just abandoned them out here.  “Or what?” She asks defiantly.

He’d taken notice that when she was trying to instigate a bickering match, the corner of her lips tilted up in a proud little smirk.  She tended to get ahead of herself, always certain that she’d win whatever it was they were doing.  From petty arguments on the sidewalk to sparring to missions where she always wanted to compete and one up him.  Although after a while he had to admit it could be a little fun to show off on the easier-to-exorcize curses.

“Dork,” He rolls his eyes without a hint of genuine attitude.  When she gapes at him in mock offense he raises his hand to flick her forehead.  “C’mon, our friends dipped” He starts to head towards the shop Nobara and Yuuji had disappeared into, but she stays put outside.

“Yeah… I sort of let them…” She admits, a small, guilty smile stretching across her lips.  Megumi raises his eyebrows at her, smiling back in amusement.  Usually whatever those two were up to, (y/n) was following behind like an eager duckling.  “What?” She asks innocently.  “I just don’t want to spend all day looking at things I won’t buy and then carrying all of Nobara’s shit!” She defends herself.

Megumi laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling at their corners and his shoulders shaking and everything.  (y/n’s) almost taken aback by the action, surprised that he looked so… joyful.

“Alright, you’ve got a point.  We have an opportunity here, and we should take it while we can” He begins to plot with her, and her smile stretches into a grin as she nods back at him.

“Bookstore and coffee?” She suggests quietly, as if it was more outlandish of an idea than it really was.

Megumi nods affirmatively, tucking his hands in his pockets before turning in the opposite direction, (y/n) following him right away so they could make it there before their friends noticed their departure.

She still pushed his buttons as they made their way to their destination down the street, but he couldn’t help but feel a blossom of warmth in his chest that for once he was the one getting her to tag alongside him.  He would never admit it, opting to poke back at her the rest of the day like nothing had changed, but it had felt… good.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day that annoying chirping flyhead had announced a culling game, Megumi felt a glimmer of hope spark inside of him that he barely recognized.  It had only been nine or so days since the incident, but it seemed like ages since he’d felt optimistic about something- anything.  

But as the flyhead spouted off the rules to the games, he’d hoped that a lineup would be included.  Surely with so many sorcerers pitted against each other, there must be some condition of having all of the participants and their points on display, right? 

The others recognized a change in him then, an eagerness, an impatience as he barely took in what the flyhead was announcing, only waiting to hear what he wanted.

Announce the players’ names, he silently pleaded with the damn thing.  Say her name, tell me she’s a participant, tell me she’s alive.

But the rules concluded, the flyhead seemingly disappeared, and Megumi felt like a fucking idiot.

Yuuji and Yuuta shared a look, and the pink haired boy turned to give his friend an apologetic expression.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Megumi tightened his hold on the strap of his sleeping bag and kept walking before he could say anything.

He didn’t want to hear any bullshit about maybes or what ifs.  He just wanted to get to the next safe place by nightfall so he could lay awake on his sleeping bag for eight hours, and then repeat this whole cycle again tomorrow.

His ever so present grief and his growing hunger was starting to blend into a concoction that made him more stand-offish than usual.  The others had almost cracked, barely acknowledging him at this point, simply not knowing how.  Yuuji still tried, of course.  Forcing a water bottle in his face, or a piece of food that hadn’t gone totally bad.  He’d maybe had a few bites here or there in the last few days, not nearly enough to keep up his energy, but somehow he pushed through anyways.

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t finding some hidden source of energy, he wasn’t persevering, and he certainly wasn’t living because he had to.  If he was being honest, he’d been wondering why his body hadn’t given out on him yet.  Nothing felt good anymore.  If it wasn’t numb, it ached, and neither one of those options was more of a relief than the other.

He wasn’t pushing through the unmovable force of his grief.  (y/n)... Nobara… Gojo… Nanami…  He wasn’t staying strong in their memory, and if anything, he wished his body would just give up already so he wasn’t such a burden to those around him.  Megumi spent most of his time in his own head, but he wasn’t completely oblivious.  He saw the way the others talked about him with only their eyes.  Short, worried glances exchanged on his behalf, each of them trying to silently convince the others to do something first, no one wanting to be the one to address it.

Tonight when he rolls out his holey sleeping bag and lays back on it, he stares at the starless sky and pleads with it.  He begs the rolling clouds and inky black night to let him close his eyes, just this once, so that he won’t have to open them again.

He can’t possibly spend another long night wide awake, thinking about his hunger, thinking about her, no matter how hard he tries to shove it all deep, deep down and ignore it.

As exhausted as he is physically, sleep never takes over his body.

A tear rolls out of the corner of his eye, trekking slowly down his cheekbone.  It lingers at his jaw, fat and wobbly as he clenches his teeth together as hard as he can stand it, desperate to make this tear the last.

It falls with a near silent splat against the nylon material he lays on.

The following little splats come in quick succession, seemingly a little louder as they fall one after the other.  Megumi chokes down the sobs to be sure no one else could catch wind of his breakdown.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

She momentarily glances up at him when he enters the room, only to scowl and turn away as soon as she recognizes it’s him.  Megumi fights the urge to roll his eyes, sliding the infirmary door shut and tucking his hands into his pockets as he approaches her.

“I’m not talking to you,”

Despite her sharp glare, he laughs at the ironic statement.

“I mean it.  I’m still mad at you,” She spits out, turning back to where she was stitching up the gash in her upper arm.  

It was a nasty thing to look at, and probably worse to patch up on her own, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten back from an assignment too late to request Shoko’s help- and reverse cursed technique.

“Seriously,” There’s more of a bite to her tone when she plunges the needle through the narrow end of the wound.  “Just go”  

She’s hissing and clenching her jaw before pulling the needle through and doing it again, trying to keep her stitches even.  It wasn’t the easiest task with her non-dominant hand, but she didn’t want to show an ounce of struggle.

“You sure talk a lot for not talking to me” Megumi hums, still coming closer, despite her warnings.

He earns himself another glare, but he ignores it, stepping up to where she’s sat on the edge of one of the paper-covered cots.  She flinches as though to lean away from him, and he raises a brow at her.

“You want sloppy stitches?” He asks pointedly, voice hushed and lacking any emotion.  “Fine by me, have it heal weird if that’s what you want” 

He starts to step away, and (y/n) huffs.  Her eyes shut and her shoulders slump, and he takes her nonverbal defeat as his cue to pluck the needle from her hand and get to work.  She wouldn’t say so out loud, but she knew his hand was steadier than hers anyways.

He works quickly and diligently.  His free hand placed gently around her arm to make sure it stays still as he stitches up the gnarly cut.  She tries not to react to how cold it is to the touch, but her muscles flinch when he first makes contact.

“Sorry” He mumbles without much thought, going for the fourth stitch.

“For what, exactly?” (y/n) mutters back with a furrow in her brow.  “For your freakishly cold hands? Or for letting me take this hit back there?” 

Megumi doesn’t respond right away, opting to keep his focus on his needlework.  This only annoys her further, and he can practically feel it radiating off of her.  He knew it was a matter of seconds before she blew up at him, she was probably just thinking through what she wanted to say when she screamed his head off.  He could tell her to shut up and stop acting so childish, but he doesn’t.

And he’s not totally sure why.  If this was Yuuji or Nobara in her place, he’d be telling them exactly where they’d gone wrong on that assignment, and to top it off walk them through how they needed to shape up before they took another one.  

But it’s not Yuuji or Nobara.  It’s (y/n).  And his mouth stays shut.

Truth was she wasn’t necessarily wrong.  He had technically let her take this hit from a Grade Two curse with a horrific set of claws.  But had he not sent her that way, then she would’ve wanted to tag team the Grade One with him.  And this particular Grade One had a gore streak in the deaths it had caused around Tokyo.  And on that fact alone, he took it on himself, and ordered (y/n) to take on the Grade Two.

“I mean seriously what the fuck was that? You think you get to boss me around just ‘cause you’ve been doing this a little longer?” 

And here she goes.  He braces himself mentally for whatever she was about to throw at him.

“Or is it something else? Hm? You needed the ego boost? Needed to feel like some kind of big strong man, Megumi?” Her eyes narrow at him but he doesn’t cast her a single glance.  His focus remains on the steady movements of stitching her up.  “Did it feel good to play hero? Did you feel good exorcizing that Grade One and laughing when I let a measly little Grade Two take me down-?”

“I wasn’t laughing” 

His voice is quieter than hers, and significantly calmer, but it still manages to shut her up.  For a moment, her expression is blank while she still stares at him, and he still keeps his eyes on his task.  

A lump forms in her throat, suddenly making it very hard to insult him.  It remains silent between them as Megumi finishes up the last stitch, finishing it off perfectly and dropping the bloody needle on the tray beside the cot.  The metallic thunk echos shortly, and then finally, he turns his attention towards her.

To his surprise, her eyes looked wet.  She couldn’t possibly be holding back tears.  Surely the stitches hurt, she wasn’t invincible, but she was strong, and never showed weakness.  Even when that curse had grabbed her by the arm and he feared it was going to rip it clean off her body, she hadn’t cried.  Screamed and swore, sure, but not a tear was shed the whole way back to campus.

“Think what you will,” He tells her, eyes flickering between hers curiously, wondering what it was that would make her tear up now.  “But I’m not so callous that I would take amusement in your pain,” 

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only burns more, and she hopes that he can’t see the emotion on her face, she hopes that she’s expressionless, cold, even.

“In fact, when I sent you after that curse, it was for the opposite reason.  I was trying to do you a favor” 

“A favor?” She repeats, intending to snap the words back at him, but her voice is strained by her burning throat, and instead she almost sounds… lost.  Megumi can’t quite put his finger on it.

He nods his head once in a short motion.

“Sorry you got hurt,” He says, and he means it, but his tone still lacks any sort of emotion.  He plans to keep it that way.  “Just didn’t want to see you get ripped to shreds by a Grade One” 

He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t give her the chance to reply, or even fully react to that statement.  Instead he turns around and walks right back out of the infirmary, not so much of a nod in parting as he shuts the door behind him and leaves her completely alone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Megumi had found Yuuji after the incident in Shibuya, he’d ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, asking if he was alright and hugging him shortly out of the pure relief that someone was there, someone lived.  Even though Yuuji was in rough shape physically and mentally after everything, he was a person that Megumi could see and touch, and relief flooded through him like pure ecstasy.

“Nobara?” He’d asked, unable to finish the rest of the question.  He didn’t have to for Yuuji to understand.

Yuuji didn’t have to answer aloud for Megumi to understand.  His glossy eyes turned away, desperate for something else to catch his attention before he thought too hard about the fate their friend befell.

Megumi frowned, his throat going dry as he swallowed harshly.

He didn’t want to ask anymore questions.  He wanted to relish the lone fact that Yuuji, his best friend, was alive and standing in front of him.  He not only lived through the catastrophe but they’d reunited.  He wished he could hold onto that joy for just a moment longer.  But he couldn’t help himself from asking another burning question in his mind.

“A-and (y/n)?” He stammered out uncharacteristically.  His panic was evident in his wide eyes and tightening grip on Yuuji’s shoulders.  The pink haired boy looked back at him in alarm.  “She- she left Nanami’s team to come find you, did she?” He explained the situation poorly, not wanting to waste time talking if Yuuji had an answer for him. 

He doesn’t respond right away.

“Did she find you?” He asks again, his voice quieter as his features begin to fall.

His heart hammered in his chest in a way he’d never felt before.  A deep rooted fear he can’t recall ever having before, even as a toddler and fearing a monster under the bed didn’t hold up against the icy hot pins forcing their way through his bloodstream now.  His face felt hot as it went pale.  The back of his neck felt sweaty as a cool breeze hit it.  He was sure he was about to have a seizure, the panic was all too much.  The longer Yuuji didn’t give him an outright response, the worse the taste of bile in Megumi’s throat became.

“I did see her,” Yuuji finally mumbles out, dropping his eyes to his hands, which he held palms up and trembling before him.  “After Choso- the people that…” Yuuji coughs, the need to vomit suddenly pushing through his mind and throat.  “She was trying to exorcize them all,” 

He was struggling to explain what he recalled seeing that night.  It was all too brutal, and his mind was trying to push the trauma into a dark corner where he couldn’t think about it if he tried.  But this was important.  Megumi needed to know.

“She… she was crying,” Yuuji looked up at Megumi again, who furrowed his brows and shook his head.  “She knew they were still people deep down, like… Junpei” 

Megumi’s head shaking grew more rapid as he processed this all too slowly for his liking.

“And then?” He asked.  “And then what? Where’d she go? You got split up?” Question after question tumbled out of his mouth so quick his words began to slur together.

Yuuji wanted to cry just seeing him so worried sick, much less actually remember what happened.

“I… I didn’t see,” The pink haired boy admitted quietly, shame bringing his eyes downcast again.  “I’m sorry, Megumi.  W- we got separated.  But there… there were so many of them…” 

Megumi had stepped away, his hands falling from Yuuji’s shoulders, hanging heavy at his sides as he took a larger step back.  

“I tried to find her,” Yuuji’s voice cracked as he hoped to explain himself.  “Really I- I didn’t want to abandon her, I didn’t want to leave her there, not after everything she did to get to me- she- fuck- she probably saved my life showing up when she did!” 

He could register that Yuuji was still speaking, but Megumi could hardly make all of it out.  His vision was clouding over, and his entire body felt weak, as though he could collapse at any point.  He hadn’t even realized he was heaving until Yuuji, Maki, and Yuuta were crowded around him and helping him slowly down to the ground to calm him down.

He’d never had a panic attack before.

Finding out that (y/l/n) (y/n) had likely died along with countless others in Shibuya struck the first of several panic induced attacks.  Most of which he managed to keep hidden from the others, but some hit so hard and so suddenly that it was near impossible to work through it in private.

He’d been replaying Yuuji’s account of that night over and over in his head for days now, trying to find some sort of hope that she could’ve gotten out of that train station before all hell broke loose.  But with a hazy recollection and no other witnesses, it was hard to pretend that she made it out alive.

At first he’d spent time looking for signs of her as they traveled.  Any remains of camps he was sifting through, hoping to find that familiar necklace she always wore, or the shortsword she’d carried that night, something- anything that could point to a sign of her still being out there somewhere.

But now he barely lifted his head as he followed the group blindly, kicking at loose rubble and keeping a tight hold on his unraveling sleeping bag that was almost at the end of it’s lifespan.  There would be no use in holding onto a tattered rag of nylon.  

There wasn’t a chance he’d ever see her again.  His denial was beginning to fade, reality giving him a cold slap to the face to wake him up.  It was harsh.  It left him rough around the edges, literally and figuratively.  His facial features were sharper, and devoid of color.  His muscles were sore, only growing more so the longer he put off eating a proper meal.  If he kept this up he knew there would only be a few more sleepless nights until he didn’t stand back up in the morning.

And still, when he was offered a piece of food, he took a mere few bites before excusing himself to go lay on his ruined sleeping bag and stare at the sky.  

He cursed it when it was empty and dull.  He cursed it when it was full of twinkling stars and a bright moon.  It was never quite right.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y’know any constellations?” 

Megumi startled upon hearing her tired voice creep up behind him.  When he turned to see her shuffling out of the doors in her bare feet and ducky-print pajama shorts and matching tee, he could almost laugh.  She was yawning, her eyes shut as she rubbed at them with the ball of her fist.  She looked like a child.

“It’s late” He muttered when she waddled up next to him sleepily.

“No shit,” She grumbles back with a roll of her eyes.  “So? Y’know any constellations or not?” 

Megumi wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing out here.  Had she heard him sneak out of his room to step out for fresh air? He’d left fifteen or so minutes ago.  If he’d woken her up, surely she would’ve followed him out here sooner than now.

Not to mention, she’d barely spoken to him since their last assignment together, and their sort-of argument in the infirmary.  The few times she had addressed him had only been out of courtesy to their present friends.  But even then, her eyes never quite met his, and her words were short.

“Actually, yeah,” Megumi hums thoughtfully.  “Tsumiki loved ‘em.  She used to show me when I was little” 

(y/n) nods, wrapping her arms around herself after realizing she wouldn’t relieve the ache in her eyes if she kept irritating them.  She lets out a soft sigh as she stands beside him, tilting her head back to glance across the sky.  She wasn’t sure of the last time she’d appreciated the stars.  It must have been when she was still a child.

Megumi clears his throat uncomfortably, before raising his hand to trace a pattern in the sky.

“Obviously that’s the Orion’s belt,” He says, before mapping out the rest of the hunter’s shape.  “The rest of Orion,” He mumbles, and he’s surprised when he glances down to see (y/n) carefully following his hand.  He wonders if she can see it the way he does, like the picture in the Astronomy book Tsumiki used to haul around.  Curious to see how interested she really was, he continued on to another constellation.  “That’s Ursa Major,” He says, tracing the shape out slowly to give her time to adjust to the image.  “And, uh, Ursa Minor is… there” He does the same for both bears.

(y/n) hums curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips in amusement.  She never would have guessed that Astronomy of all things was one of Megumi’s interests.

“Do you know what your star sign is?” He asks, dropping his hand and glancing down at her.  She raises a brow at him in surprise, slowly delivering her answer, half expecting him to come up short and sheepishly admit he didn’t know where that one was.

But he surprises her again, eyes darting around the sky for a matter of seconds before finding it in seconds and dragging his fingers along the main stars of her constellation with a great amount of ease.

“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” She finally confesses, shyly glancing up at him.  “You’re a pretty good brother for learning all of this” She tells him.

His attention is brought back down to her as soon as she says it, finding a soft smile on her face and a look in her eyes that he can’t quite decipher.  He thinks it’s akin to worry, perhaps empathy.  His eyes flicker between hers a few times as he tries to pinpoint exactly what it is.  She doesn’t shy away from his long silence accompanied by the eye contact that made her feel like she was an artifact under glass.  

It’s quiet for a while, until eventually Megumi looks back up at the sky again.  She wonders what brought him out here to begin with, but she doesn’t ask.  Instead, she clasps her hands together behind her back and admires the stars with him.

“What else can you show me?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

If it had been up to him, Megumi would’ve rather stayed behind at Jujutsu Tech to guard Tengen.  Maybe if he’d sat alone in the warping hallways of the school he could pass out from the mindfuckery of it all.  Then maybe, once Kenjaku arrived…

It doesn’t matter now.  Yuki and Choso had already decided they’d be the ones to stand guard.  He and Yuuji were already on their way to find Hakari, and there was no point in changing plans now.  Besides, he didn’t want to burden Yuuji any further than he was sure he already had.

“So, you’ve met this guy?”

Yuuji’s the first to speak, and Megumi doesn’t exactly have an answer.  He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head side to side with a blank expression.

“Sort of.  I guess” 

Yuuji waits for further explanation, but after a few beats of silence, he realizes that Megumi isn’t going to explain what that means.

“Okay… well, do you think we can convince him to help us?” 

“Don’t know” Megumi replies.  

Yuuji frowns, and turns his gaze forward, fixing it straight ahead before slowly exhaling through his nose to ease his nerves.

Megumi glances at him out of his peripheral vision, and seeing his clear disappointment in his features, huffs out a breath and tries to explain himself.

“I met him for, like, a minute.  One time.  Before I was even enrolled at Jujutsu Tech,” He said.  

Yuuji turned towards his friend with a grin, eager to hear him opening up, or at least, trying to.  For once he keeps his mouth shut in the hopes that Megumi continues to talk.

“Gojo introduced me,” He went on.  “And I really don’t know if he’ll help us.  He’s a bit… eccentric” He mutters the last part with distaste.  

“Like Gojo?” Yuuji chuckles, and Megumi tilts his head from shoulder to shoulder once more.

“If Gojo had a gambling addiction so twisted it got him kicked out of school, then… maybe” 

Yuuji’s eyes widened, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could ask any other questions.  Megumi’s patience may have been thin- and perhaps nonexistent at this point- but he had a feeling that he should let his friend save up some energy for his social battery.  If Hakari is anything like Gojo, then he’d certainly need it.

When they stop to rest it’s not for long.  Yuuji gets Megumi to eat a bit more than usual, though not by much, he takes it as a good sign.  They rest just long enough to soothe the ache in their feet, but as soon as they’re moving again, the pain returns.  Neither one of them complained.

THe sun was just starting to set when they finally reached their destination.  Megumi stopped them both just on the perimeter of the territory.  An unsettling feeling spiking in his chest had his instincts telling him not to step any closer without a plan. 

Silently, he glances over to Yuuji, who’s already surveying the area.  He must have felt it, too.

“Cursed energy?” Yuuji mumbles, his brows furrowed as he meets Megumi’s hard stare.

The dark haired boy nods his head once in confirmation.

“Yeah,” He hums back.  “And a lot of it” 

It was impossible to ignore.  Cursed energy in great quantities had a natural buzz, like static electricity in the air.  This wasn’t that at all.  If Megumi closed his eyes and focused on it, he was sure he could feel the ground below him vibrating with thick waves of energy.

One thing was for sure, they were in the right place.  But whatever it was that was happening here put him on edge.

“Keep your guard up,” He muttered, stepping past the brush they’d been hiding behind and heading towards the building.  He tucked his hands into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Yuuji was following.  “And your expectations low” He adds upon seeing the grin on his friend’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Arms up, Megumi!” 

Despite her offensive stance and the glow of cursed energy around her fists, (y/n’s) voice was full of pure delight.  Sometimes when Megumi would spar with her, he would be reminded of Maki.  He never understood why she never sought her out instead, surely the older sorcerer was a better match for her twisted delight with training.  Nonetheless, here he was on a Saturday, rolling his eyes as he raised his hands to keep his face behind his arms so that when she hit him she didn’t break anything.

(y/n) spoke as if she could read his thoughts.

“Skipping out on training doesn’t get you to Grade One, y’know,” She told him as they started circling.  “And if Yuuji can’t teach me Black Flash, I’ll have to learn it myself!” 

“Did you even ask Nanami?” Megumi grumbles, already knowing her answer.

She wasn’t one to ask for help.  Only ever requesting a training partner- or victim, as Nobara had once affectionately put it.

She didn’t give him an answer anyways, throwing a fist towards his exposed stomach, trying to apply her cursed energy at the last possible moment.  She not only didn’t succeed in using Black Flash, but she missed hitting him too, as he dodged with a graceful sidestep.

“If you’re so scared, why’d you say yes?” (y/n) asked, gearing up to find a weaker spot on him to aim for.

He doesn’t want to answer that, but she clearly isn’t going to make her attack until he gives her something, so he huffs.

“No one else would wake up at this hour on a weekend” He says lamely.  It feels like a lie when he says it, even though Megumi knows it’s the truth.  

It was seven in the morning, after all.  Yuuji and Nobara likely wouldn’t be awake for a few more hours.  If (y/n) needed a partner to train, her options were severely limited.

“Guess you’re right” She shrugs.

In the same motion she throws another punch at him, this time her cursed energy crackling in her hand, giving her some hope. But even though she landed a hit on his shoulder, it was still unsuccessful.

She groans loudly, to which Megumi scowls, seeing as he was the one that just got punched.  He rolls his shoulder to work out the ache before taking his defensive stance again, waiting for her to try again.

“You’re not in the right mindset” He points out.

She raises a brow at him.

“You wanna chase me around a bit?” She suggests, only half jokingly.  Megumi snorts, but stops himself before he could actually laugh at the idea.

“No,” He shakes his head.  “You should try something else” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” He huffs, annoyed for trying to walk her through a technique he’d never even used.  Still, he finds himself brainstorming another approach.  “Try psyching out,” He suggests, nodding his head as he thinks it through.  “It’d be more effective that way anyways.  If you’re using hand-to-hand with an opponent but don’t lead with it, you’ve got the element of surprise on your side, too,” 

(y/n) nods along with him, finding the advice to be surprisingly solid.

“So if you let them underestimate you, then catch them off guard, you’d probably be good as gold” He finished.

She beams at him as she raises her fists again, ready to take his advice out on him right away.

“Just remember you suggested it when I take you to the infirmary later” She teases.

Megumi smirks, widening his stance and raising his arms to protect his face again.

“You’ll still have to figure out the technique” He reminds, but the coy look on his face suggests that he had no doubt in his mind that she could master it in no time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The inside of the building was so loud and rambunctious, it was downright overstimulating.  Megumi fought the urge to cover his ears as soon as they entered the premises.  Crowds of people swarmed multiple levels- he counted about six before getting distracted by all the pushing and shoving- and it was no secret what it was they were wildly rooting for.

“A fighting ring, huh?” Yuuji grinned, not out of delight for the sport, but surprise for the timing of a setting like this.  Did these people even know about the games?

“Great,” Megumi clicked his tongue bitterly as he surveyed the crowds with a furrow in his brow.  “Should’ve expected he’d pull some shit like this” He muttered too low for Yuuji to make out what he was grumbling about.

The squared ring where the current match was taking place wasn’t too far from where Yuuji and Megumi found themselves, but with all of the people in the way it made it difficult for them to see who was winning.  Too many arms in the air with money in their fists blocked the fight.  But it seemed whoever was up there was getting thrown around like a ragdoll.  The sound of a body rapidly being smacked against the rough mat or against the chains surrounding the ring were heard in quick succession.

However despite the sound of someone being brutalized, the match continued.  Neither of them have caught a glimpse of either combatant, but they knew it must’ve been an impressive lineup as it had been a few minutes of this now.

“Is this even legal?” Yuuji asked.  Megumi scoffed, although he wasn’t trying to deliver a rude response.

“Not even a little bit” He mutters back with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, they decide they’re going to push through the horde of chanting people to get a better look at what was going on.  They pause in their shoving when a booming voice erupts from an intercom, the screech of an excited announcer sounding throughout the building and echoing across the concrete infrastructure.

“Place your final bets now!” He drawled every word out for dramatic effect.  “Will our resident Panda live to see another day?” 

Yuuji and Megumi locked eyes instantly, and without having to say a thing, began pushing and shoving forward again.  The sea of people cast them dirty looks and occasionally pushed back to scold them for their rude behavior, but they paid it no mind.

There could only be one Panda in that ring, right?

Sure enough when they got closer to the square, they could see the wide, furry expanse of a panda- The Panda’s- back.  His shoulders were trembling, not from pain or fear, but from the rambunctious laughter he let out.  He raised his paws, tilting his head back as his howl boomed.

Yuuji’s face brightened excitedly upon seeing their old friend.  Megumi couldn’t help but feel some relief as well.  Neither of them had considered the possibility of scattered sorcerers they knew being here.

They were close enough now that when Panda spoke, they could make out what he was saying.  The crowd around them was too busy screaming and chanting threatening cheers to care about what the fighters in the ring were saying to one another, but Yuuji and Megumi did their best to listen in.

“Just try not to knock me out this time!” Panda said through his laughter.

Was he throwing the fight? Megumi didn’t quite understand the context to this statement.

“Last time they didn’t bother to move me off the ring, I slept here all night!” Panda continued, his laughing ceasing as he took on an irritated tone.  “Ruined my back!” 

His opponent only laughed.  Something feminine and twisted, but undoubtedly genuine.

Megumi’s heart plummeted to his stomach.  He recognized that sound.

When Panda’s body was knocked back into the chains of the ring from a swift but heavy kick to the chest, his opponent was finally made visible.

A girl.  Not that girls couldn’t fight, but this particular girl had a cutthroat attitude when it came to fistfighting a bear.  It seemed every swing of her arms as she landed hit after hit on him grew faster in speed.  Half of her face was covered with a black mask, but the bloodied grin on her face was that of someone who believed they couldn’t possibly lose, no matter what beast of an opponent they might face.

Recognition flashed in Megumi’s face, making him go pale as he watched her strike two blows to Panda’s jaw so quickly it had to have given him whiplash, sending his furry head back and forth with such great force.

If Panda was throwing the fight, it didn’t really look like it.  He blocked a hit here and there with his massive paws, but she always seemed to move quicker to outsmart him.  Ducking and weaving around him with graceful feet and agile movements to keep herself from getting caught by him again.  Clearly she’d learned a lesson when he’d been throwing her around earlier.

When Panda did try to land a hit on her again, she grabbed his large wrist in one hand, still grinning as she used the momentum of his swing to swing herself forward and kick her feet into his chest.

The first from the right foot, directly against his ribcage, knocking all wind out of him.  

The crowd began to go wild, anticipating something Megumi hadn’t caught onto yet.

The second from the left foot, kicking lower against his stomach, making him curl over and heave.

But before he could catch his breath or clutch his stomach, she struck with her right foot again.  

The third and final blow came with a shock of blue energy, an abundant amount of cursed energy striking him in the chest so hard it sent him a few feet backwards, crashing into the chains and crumpling to the mat in a heap of black and white.

It was undoubtedly Black Flash.

She didn’t taunt him as the referee began his countdown before calling a knock out and declaring her a winner.  She didn’t strut around or try to rile up her fans in the crowd.  Not that she needed to, the people around Megumi and Yuuji were clawing at their own faces in astonishment from watching her take her opponent down with ease and showmanship.

And when the match was officially over and the announcer was hyping the crowd up for the next fight over the intercom, she slid out of the ring and left the area without so much as a wave.  It took a few minutes for Panda to get up, but eventually he was sauntering his way out of the ring too, waving to the few people who were his diehard fans and didn’t take his defeat tonight as anything more than some bad luck.

“Come on” Megumi beckoned Yuuji to follow him, his feet already moving as fast as they could take him through the mob, struggling to follow the exact direction that Panda and his opponent before him had gone.

Yuuji kept up fairly well, but Megumi wouldn’t have noticed.  He was driven forward by absolute panic, his heart racing in his chest with a feeling he’d thought he’d relinquished days ago when he’d tried to stop living in denial.

But he couldn’t get the image of that girl out of his mind.  She was so… he couldn’t get his hopes up.  Her laugh was so familiar he couldn’t have possibly mistaken it for someone else's… he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“Yo! Panda!” 

Eventually the crowd thinned out enough that Yuuji tried using the power of his loud holler to get their friend’s attention.  Panda perked up immediately, spinning around and searching the crowd for the familiar voice.  It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the waving boy with the unmistakable head of pink hair.  He grinned, and his ears twitched a bit as he turned completely and began to make his way towards the pair.

“Itadori!” He beams wider as he reaches them, as if they could have turned out to be figments of his imagination.  “Fushiguro!” 

He hugs them both at once before either could protest.

“I can’t believe you’re here! Did you come to see me fight?” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head before they could even say anything.  “Really though, what are you doing here? It’s not as fun as it looks, y’know” 

“We’re looking to talk to Hakari-” 

“Who was that with you?” Megumi speaks up before Yuuji could begin his explanation.  

Yuuji turns to him with a confused look, which Panda shares for a moment, before he chuckles.

“She went down that way,” He said, pointing behind him in the direction he’d been heading.  “(y/n/n) always ditches fights fast.  Hates the crowd, I guess.  Not me, I love the-” 

“Wait, (y/n/n)?” Yuuji repeats the semi-familiar nickname, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening.

He turns to share a look with Megumi, but it seemed the raven haired boy was already processing just whose nickname that could’ve been.  His face was flushed so pale he looked sick.

“As in (y/n)-(y/n/n)?” Yuuji continues.

“Yeah,” Panda nods affirmatively, not understanding just how devastating his casual response was for the younger sorcerers in front of him.  “She’s-” 

“She’s alive?” Megumi finally speaks. 

His voice is hardly above a whisper, but the words are like a dropping bomb.  Clear, and unmistakable.

Panda blinks in shock, his features contorting in realization as he looks between his two friends.  He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know where to start.

So he nods his head, and turns to point down the corridor he’d been heading once more.

He gives them specific directions to where she’d been likely to go.  Megumi listens but doesn’t quite hear a thing he’s saying.  His heart is pounding in his ears, his body is going hot, and even once his feet are moving on their own accord- apparently having understood the directions just fine without his ears- he frets that he might break down into a panic attack if he’s not quick enough.  

The warning signs are there, the labored breaths, the hot and cold flashes in quick succession, his blurring vision- but he ignores all of it, racing through what was left of the crowd to slip into the near empty corridor.  Yuuji is hot on his tail as they dart through, eyes moving in all directions at every doorway and passerby, just to be sure that they wouldn’t miss her.

“(y/n)?” 

Her name leaves his mouth in a strangled choke of syllables, as though it were his first time speaking in months.  

She hadn’t been facing his direction, her hand still on the handle of the door she was about to open.  Her movements had been rushed, like she were hoping to sneak into the room and lock the door behind her as quickly as possible.

But now, as her hand stilled and a chill shot up her spine at the familiar voice, her movements were far too slow as she turned towards the owner of said voice.

Megumi and Yuuji are standing a few feet down the hall, their heavy footsteps having skid to a stop when they finally did see her.  She’s closer to them now than she had been in the ring, and although she still wore the mask, she was far more recognizable now.

Her hand trembles as she raises a hand to her head, pulling at the black material of her mask until it gives way, sliding off her head and pooling in the palm of her hand, revealing her face completely now.

Her eyes were wide as they moved between Yuuji and Megumi slowly, disbelief written in her features from the way her brows drew together, to the part in her lips but no words coming out, to the way her eyes began to water as they snapped back into reality and began to move closer to her.

“Megumi?” She drops his name in a mumble, barely audible even to herself, but seeing him here, right now, has her in such a state of shock that she could have believed Panda threw her around too rough and now she was experiencing delusions.

But then she’s moving too, her feet shuffling at first before picking up pace and running towards them once she’s close enough that she didn’t even need to.

“(y/n)!” Yuuji cheers when they’re huddled close together again.

“Yuuji!” She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, rocking back and forth in bliss upon seeing her beloved friend safe and before her now.

When they part, Megumi still hasn’t figured out what it is he should even say.  He doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and suddenly feels so anxious he worries he might throw up.  To his luck, (y/n) acts before he has to, and she’s giving him the same warm welcome.

Her arms are tight around his shoulders, and her fingers curl into the material at the back of his uniform jacket.  She gathers the fabric in her fists, making sure that he won’t pull away until she’s squeezed every bit of comfort out of his embrace as possible.

And to her surprise, he returns to affection with more force than she would’ve thought.  One arm around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest, the other laying upwards against her spine so that he could bury his hand in her hair and cradle her head close to him.  He’s shaking, she can feel it, and she pushes closer until her face is buried against his shoulder, hoping to ease his panic.

“We- I thought-” He gasps between struggling breaths, and she’s never heard him sound so broken.  He drops his head so his lips hover over her ear when he finds his voice again.  “I thought you were dead” 

Her heart spikes with an odd feeling, and she squeezes him a little harder before pulling back.

“Alive as ever” She says with a weak smile and an awkward shrug of her shoulders.

Megumi has to shove his hands into his pockets to hide their obvious trembling.  The rush of adrenaline in his system hadn’t quite worn off yet, and at this rate he wasn’t sure that it would.

“Well what happened?” Yuuji asked.  “How’d you end up here?”

She lets out a humorless chuckle before wincing.  

“It’s… it’s not an interesting story,” She explains, then beckons with her hand to have them follow her back to her door.  “Here, I sorta have my own space, if you want to come in I can tell you about it, and then you can tell me what you’re doing here, too” 

Yuuji begins a long winded rant right away.  He tells her all about meeting Yuuta and dying again, and despite Megumi sending him a dirty look for going into too much depth about the parts that didn’t matter as much, (y/n) was an attentive listener, taking in every detail and asking him questions, too.  A lot about Yuuta, seeing as she hadn’t crossed paths with him in months, it was good to know he was still out there and on their side.  Yuuji continued on about the culling games, and how they had come here originally looking for Hakari.

“But then we found you and Panda- hey wait, do you know Hakari?” Yuuji asked excitedly.  “Maybe you could talk to him for us-!” 

Her eyes widen with uncertainty, a nervous smile stretching over her lips as she shakes her head quickly.

“I- I don’t know about that,” She tells him.  “He doesn’t really come out much, I think I’ve seen him once since getting here.  I wasn’t exactly trying to get on his radar.  He doesn’t love those affiliated with Jujutsu Tech, you know” 

“What? Why! He must like you, your fight was very entertaining!” Yuuji gushes.  Megumi sends him another look that he ignores.  “And you mastered Black Flash! He’s got to be interested in- ow!” 

Megumi smacked his hand upside the back of Yuuji’s head, making sure this time that he didn’t miss the look he was giving him.  His displeasure wasn’t exactly subtle.  (y/n) laughed through her nose at the pair that hadn’t seemed to change too much in their time apart.

Besides the fact that Yuuji had a few more scars on his face.  And Megumi looked like he had lost a bit of weight.  Besides that, their demeanors hadn’t changed one bit.  For a second at a time, she could pretend things were normal again.

“Go find Panda and tell him our plan,” Megumi orders gruffly.  “See if he has any ideas on how to get Hakari to see us” 

“What? But-!” 

Megumi widened his eyes, silently telling Yuuji to go.  The pink haired boy huffed, but stood from his seat on the floor and shuffled towards the door.

“And keep a low profile!” Megumi called, only for Yuuji to wave him off nonchalantly before shutting the door behind him.

(y/n) chuckled when it was just the two of them, turning to face him again.

“So,” She breathes out a heavier exhale than she’d expected.  “How’s he really holding up?” 

“How you’d expect,” Megumi replies honestly.  “It was really rough for a while.  We all were… pretty messed up.  Still are, I guess” 

(y/n) frowns.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “Shibuya… was…” She drops her head before she could finish her thought.  There wasn’t a word strong enough to explain the devastation of the incident.

Megumi’s fingers begin to twitch, fiddling and locking together as he thought over what he wanted to say next.

“Look, before we…” He starts, but loses momentum quickly.  He clears his throat to try again.  “When I last saw you, I-” 

“It’s okay,” (y/n) cuts him off before he could say anything more.  The face he makes is uncertain, and she gives him a nod as she repeats herself.  “Really, Megumi, it’s okay.  It was just a fight, it didn’t mean anything” 

“But I-” He starts, only for her to shake her head again.  “But it did mean something” He argues.

“We fought a lot, Megumi,” (y/n) chuckles.  “Trust me, if I was holding onto resentment over every time we ever argued, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now” 

“No- not like that,” Megumi shakes his head.  “It meant something because you left and I- I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, (y/n),” His voice holds a grave tone that has her kind smile faltering and her brows pinching together as she watches him.  “Yuuji said he lost track of you when you were dealing with all the transfigured humans and- and then you were just gone” 

(y/n) blinks, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she realizes just how long it had been since they’d seen each other.  How long he must’ve carried around guilt and grief over her.  It makes her heart sink, and she shuffles forward on her knees to sit closer to him.

“I got dragged out of the train station pretty quick,” She tells him.  “There were so many of… them… and I knew that I was worrying Yuuji while exorcizing them.  Cause- cause it didn’t feel like exorcizing,” 

Megumi nods, recalling how Yuuji had told him she’d been crying during the whole ordeal, something quite out of character for her.  Even now as her eyes begin to tear up, the sight is alarming.

“It felt like… like killing,” She whispers.  “So I started leading them away and got outnumbered and got dragged out further.  By the time I… once they were all gone, I was out of it.  I must’ve passed out or something, because when I came to, Shibuya was… gone.  I tried finding you- I tried finding anyone-” She tries to catch her wording, but she’s not quick enough.  “But it was just rubble and dust.  It was nothing.  After a while of trying to find somewhere to land to… to rest and regain some strength, I found this place and Panda with it and I just… stayed.  It sort of started to feel like this is all that was left,” 

She lets out a shaky sigh, rubbing her clammy hands over her thighs to relieve some of the stress building up in her body.  It doesn’t do much, but she continues the action a few more times.

“You know, I didn’t necessarily think I’d ever see you again, either,” Her eyes are downcast as she speaks.  “For a while I wondered, um, if you’d show up here…” 

“Sorry it took so long,” Megumi replies quietly.  She lets out a short, watery chuckle.  “But we’re here now,” He adds, moving closer to her, until she looks up at him, surprised by the sudden close proximity.  Her eyes are wide as they flicker quickly over his face, trying to read his expression.

It was a new one for Megumi, one she’s not sure she’s ever seen on him before.  Except maybe the night in the infirmary, when he’d stitched up her arm.  Her face feels warm, and she can’t decide if it’s because of the memory, or if it’s because of how close he is to her.

“And I’m not going anywhere without you” He tells her.  His voice is low, but instinctively, she doesn’t feel a shroud of doubt in his words.

She blinks to try to rid the tears from her eyes, but after reliving the last week and a half, and reuniting with the people she’d been naively hoping were just missing and not gone was starting to get on top of her.  She’d spent quite some time shoving down bitter thoughts and choosing to stay in denial.  As long as she focused on her matches and made enough of an earning to have a place to crash, she tried to stay as blissfully ignorant as possible.

Still, there had been a few sleepless nights when she’d wander outside and try to find a few constellations in the sky, or when she’d lay wide awake and let the tip of her finger trace over the perfectly straight scar on her shoulder.

“Really?” 

The question comes out with a shaky breath.  She held no uncertainty in him, Megumi was a man who was always true to his word, but reality was beginning to settle in and the urge to hold on to him and never let go was growing stronger.

Megumi nods, clearly amused that she even had to ask.  It felt like the first time in a long time that a smile began to twitch on his lips, the muscle feeling awkward from underuse.  His eyes gleam as he reiterates his intentions.

“We’re not splitting up again,” He tells her, a weight hanging on to each word.  His eyes move between hers, and when she blinks, a tear sticks to her lashes.  “I’m not losing you again” He adds in a smaller voice.

A choked sound that almost sounded like a laugh comes out of her as she nods back at him, shaky and fast.  For once, agreeing with him completely.

To (y/n), there had always been something about Megumi that drew her to him.  He was easy to pick on, easy to tease and laugh at.  She found joy in their banter, even when it was less petty and more serious, there was a magnetic spark between them that she just couldn’t deny.  She’d tried to explore that feeling, before Shibuya.  But she’d never known how exactly to approach it, always becoming apprehensive of the foreign feeling.

Now, it felt so easy to jump into the unknown territory that she felt silly for never having worked up the courage to do so before.  The fear of losing someone she cared so much about was too great, and there was no time to waste.

Her tear dropped onto her cheek, the fat droplet rolling slowly across her skin until it dipped into the edge of her wobbly smile.  A few more followed shortly after, unable to be stopped no matter how hard she willed herself not to cry.

Just as she raised the back of her hand to hastily rub the wetness away, Megumi beat her to it, moving closer to her as both hands worked softly to catch each tear.  They were cold against the hot wet skin, just as she’d remembered, and she found herself shutting her eyes and leaning into how comforting they felt.  The tears didn’t stop, but she didn’t seem to be in any anguish.

“I’m not losing you again either,” She whispers, her fingers skimming over his wrist before she clasps her hand around it, making sure he doesn’t pull away just yet.  “I- I can’t” The words come out in a small whimper.

Megumi nods in understanding.  His thumbs swiping across her cheekbones, and softly under her eyes, trying to catch every last tear.

“I know,” He says softly, still nodding as his eyes wander her features, making sure there weren’t any lingering tears he’d missed.  “I know, and you won’t, ‘m not goin’ anywhere” 

When their eyes lock again, she’s overwhelmed by an influx of emotion.  An eagerness to have him back by her side, a desire to keep him there next to her and never let him go, to never let anything take him away again.

“Listen, ‘gumi, I-” She tries to put words to the feeling, wanting to explain to him that having him here with her was sending her heart into orbit, wanting to tell him that knowing he was alive and he was okay was the first time she’d felt happiness in what seemed like weeks.

But the words are too difficult.  They’re too big and they get caught in her throat.  Rather than try to force them out, she acts on it instead.

Megumi anticipates the movement before she leans forward, catching the way her eyes rapidly shift between his and his mouth.  He reciprocates the look, curious to see if it meant what he’d thought it did, but just as quickly as his eyes land on her parted lips, she’s shooting forward and pressing them against his.

It’s a rushed kiss at first, full of anxiety and grief that hadn’t fully been relieved yet.  It’s  messy lips and clashing teeth, but once they both realize that whatever this feeling was, it was reciprocated, they relaxed.

Megumi sighs through his nose as he cups her cheeks and keeps her close, kissing her a little more softly, a little more deliberate in his need to display to her just how much he’d missed her.  In turn, (y/n’s) hands rest against his shoulders, squeezing just firm enough that he could feel her there, without being too aggressive.

Kissing her like his life depended on it made him feel like everything could turn out alright now that she was with him again.  Now that he was sure she was here, feeling the heat in her cheeks, and her soft breaths against his cheek, Megumi thinks his life had depended on this.

Up until about an hour ago he’d been mentally checked out since Shibuya.  Seeing her again brought him back a sense of purpose he hadn’t even really noticed he’d been losing.

Her hands are gentle when they card into his hair, combing softly through the dark locks that seemed a little longer since the last time she’d seen him.  He sighed at the sensation, unintentionally breaking their kiss.

The tips of his hair tickle her skin as his forehead drops to rest against hers.  (y/n) lets out a soft, breathless giggle before opening her eyes.

He’s smiling at her.  So full of delight that his blue eyes seem to gleam, and they’re crinkled at their corners.  She can’t help but smile back at him, her heart full and her face warm, even with his cool hands still holding it.

Megumi moves then, fingers catching a loose strand of hair.  He twirls it thoughtfully for a moment before tucking it behind her ear carefully, and laying his palm across her cheek again.  His long fingers splay out, wanting to touch as much of her as he possibly can, just to keep sure that she really is in front of him.

“No more runnin’ off, alright?” He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing hers.

Her hands latch behind his neck, her focus on his lips as she thinks about kissing him again.  They linger there for a moment before shyly meeting his gaze again.

“Don’t let me go again” 

He shakes his head, a silent vow to never do anything to push her away again, and even if he fails to keep her by his side, he swears he’d follow her, wherever she may go.

With his eyes falling shut he leans in again, lips grazing hers as he speaks.

“I won’t,” He murmurs, and then once more before he seals their lips again. “I won’t” 

She could never part from him again.  She loved him too much to even conceive the idea.  What was next to come would be difficult, she may not have known Hakari very well personally, but she knew enough to be anxious about approaching him.  He was a bit of a loose cannon.  However she was sure that with Megumi- and Yuuji and Panda of course- they would come up with the right plan of action to gain his help.

With needy hands and a needier heart she clings to him now, just to be sure that she could never look back and regret not holding onto him tight enough.  He does the same, dropping his hands to circle his arms around her waist and pull her in impossibly close to him.

Whatever it took, he’d keep hold of her for the rest of their lives.  Nothing could ever take her from him again as long as she was right there in his arms.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i got you where i want you // you did it, i never // i’m falling for forever ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Man Down ~ B.A.

A/n: I haven’t watched the show in a long enough time that I forgot all the crisis events and I don’t want to go back and watch any of them soooo I just made it Savitar era centered. Hints of Savitar x reader like. Everywhere. Sorry about that lol

Request: “...Barry x male reader, reader gets hurt trying to protect Barry during a crisis event?” By anon

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

When Caitlyn sat down next to me, we both knew it was too late, but I admired her for trying anyway. Even before she spoke, I knew what she was going to say. I could tell in the way her lips curved into a frown and her wide eyes begged, but her words had no energy to them, that she knew it too. That she recognized the way I was acting. That she saw through my calm and comforting and reassurance. My hopelessness underneath, mourning so much more than Iris West’s death.

Mourning my own.

It had been months of fighting back Savitar. So long trying to save Iris’ life. To change the future. They’d made some progress here and there, but…. Ultimately not enough. It was obvious that Barry wouldn’t be able to stop it. Wouldn’t be able to save her. And Barry Allen couldn’t live without Iris West.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep them together?

A different back and forth had been happening, other than the battle of wills between Barry and his time duplicate. A battle of love. For years, I’d longed for Barry to stop looking at his best friend and to pay attention to me. To level those adoring eyes and loving gazed onto me instead of her. He never did. Sometimes I thought he might, almost like he was considering it. Just like the days that Iris almost paid attention to Barry. Almost saw him as something other than a brother, as she had decided he was. Almost.

Almost only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the song goes. So I’d decided that if it came down to it - me or her - Barry would chose her. He already had, and he would again. He would be mad at me for doing this. He would be so, so angry. But he’d get over it eventually. He’d move on and reconcile. They’d fall in love one day. There was a newspaper by line proving it. He would be happy with her. One day his almost would turn into an absolute. He might not forget his friend, who had once been, but he would be happier in the end if this was me instead of her.

So I would die instead.

“Please don’t do it.”

I smiled when Caitlyn finally spoke. It was a lie when I smiled, when I looked at her with confusion. “Do what?”

Her gaze bore into mine. “I don’t know.” There was already mourning in her tone. Oh Caitlyn… poor Caitlyn. How much had she lost? How many? My one regret - I could t spare my other friends from my loss. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’ve been acting different. And it’s worrying me.”

I looked away, face scrunched as I worked on the design Cisco had asked me to work on. He had a new suit idea for the future, and being more gifted with a needle than him, I was usually the one he went to. I hoped to finish it before it was too late. Now it was an easy thing to focus on. To play casual with. “You worry too much Caitlyn.” A boldfaced lie. We all knew she worried exactly as much as she should. All her friends were suicidally wreckless. “I have no plans.” Another lie. I looked up at her, smiling again. “I’m worried about Iris too, but I know Barry will pull through. He always does.” I winked, nudging her. Too many lied for what was probably our last person to person conversation. “I promise, okay?”

She didn’t respond to that. She looked at the suit I was making. Like it was proof. And it was, in a way. Hadn’t I not been working on it this whole time? Hadn’t I said it would take me a while? Hadn’t I told Cisco it would be a while, with the little details I had to work out and all the stress around us? Too much stress, too much to do, not enough time to handle it all.

The fact that I was making time for this - I might have yelled it was my final act at the top of my lungs. Not that I had to, for the people that could see the unspoken words in the way I said goodbye and the words I didn’t say and the things I did or didn’t do. Not for people like Caitlyn. She would have always ended up here, unable to stop me but desperate to try, knowing I would do anything to save Barry from the agony he was facing. Knowing that I loved him enough to destroy myself.

Her best of all, who had seen it in her fiancé’s face the day he had promised to see her again, knowing he was doomed to die. Of Caitlyn. Poor, brilliant, amazing, wonderful Caitlyn. If only I could spare you from reliving this again…

I looked away, back toward my sewing. She didn’t believe me, we both knew it. But there was nothing else to be said. So we didn’t speak again, sitting in the last silence we’d get together. Too few days now until Iris was supposed to die. Until I would take her place instead.

-

“You know, it’s weird.” I looked up when Savatar spoke to me, no longer startled at the way he simply appeared in my room. He had been doing this since the day he had been exposed for who he was. The first time it had been terrifying, but it had soon become clear as to why he did it anyway, and over time I had gotten used to it.

“What’s weird?” I asked calmly, returning to my sewing. “The fact that you keep breaking into your future partner’s bedroom before even meeting in your own proper timeline, or the fact that I’m seeing a suit you don’t recognize?”

Savitar fought a smile. He was doom and gloom unless he was around me. Apparently in the future we fell in love or whatever. I couldn’t imagine knowing what I know now, and still falling in love with him. Knowing what he would do. Who he would become. How he would destroy the man I love now. Apparently, the future was a wild place. Or… would have been. How it’ll never have happened. Not for me and not for hun.

Perhaps we were soulmates after all.

“I knew I shouldn’t have reacted to that suit you’re making. Spoilers.”

I snorted, unable to handle the hilarity in a time duplicate coming backward in time to kill someone just to ensure his own existence, using Barry’s memories to put himself on top the whole time. He was a walking spoiler. His backstory alone was the most raw look into what was supposed to happen yet.

“So not the suit then,” I decided on, looping back to his original comment. “What’s weird?” I looked up at him briefly before returning to my work. I couldn’t help the tender spot I had for him. He was a darker, sadder Barry. All the same memories and expressions and body language but with more pain than even my Barry had. It was in my very blood and bones to want to cheer him up. To want to make it better. That I did understand. I knew that a future me would have carried that softness and kindness toward him. He had mention that was how he had fallen in love with me - the one who treated him like a person, who recognized and cared for him.

Perhaps that was how I managed to fall in love with him as well. The way that he was Barry enough to count, but different enough that it wasn’t bitter. Wasn’t overwhelming. Different enough that he wasn’t obsessed with Iris. We probably would have been happy.

Savitar watched me, as if studying me. “I love watching your mind work. All the things you never say that simply click together in your mind.” He swallowed, and I knew he was thinking about how much he missed me. Future me, who loved him without guilt. I wonder if he visited the older me when he wasn’t actively spending time taunting Barry and making plans to kill Iris. I wonder if future me knew where he was, what he was doing.

I sighed. He was right, I really did have too many thoughts to speak them out loud so rarely. He really did know me like no one else did. It was jarring. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s weird?”

His smile finally won out. It edged on a smirk, but was a little too soft around the edges while he looked at me. He looked so much less intimidating like this. So much more like Barry. “To see it happen like this. To see the seeds planted of our future even before we existed in the same way. To know you so deeply, when you don’t know me at all, knowing that later you’ll know me as deeply and I will be the one who’s surprised by it.” He sat down at the table across from me, studying my face. “I always wondered what it was like to go into a relationship knowing someone, hearing stories, being aware of the steps even before they happen. When I opened my eyes the first time and you smiled at me. When I realized that you were different, and I found out that you knew me all this time ago. I wondered if you started falling in love with me before I was created. I wondered if my coming back in time was an influence for you, as you being so familiar and comfortable with me so quickly was an influence for me. I had this idea in my mind that we were this never ending cycle. That we ended up together simply because we already knew we would end up together.”

My smile grew dry. “Time travel is a weird one,” I agreed. “And I can imagine what you mean. But… no. I don’t know when my future self fell in love with you, but it wasn’t now. It isn’t now for me at least. Maybe now that the future has changed it’ll be different.” I shrugged, not looking up. Thinking about how I would die, driven by my love for Barry. About how I would never get the chance to fall in love with Savitar to begin with.

His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, catching my wrist. I looked up at him - and I saw it in his eyes. I saw the understanding and the accusation. I saw the rage there, as I’d seen it in Caitlyn. The mourning turning quickly to denial. To refusal. He saw my resolve, my plan, even though he couldn’t understand what it was or how I had come up with it. Why I had.

“What are you planning?” He demanded.

I met his eyes evenly, deflating a bit. It was harder to lie to this man. Not just because of his face, or his voice. Not just because he was so like Barry that he had a hold on me from day one. Now he was his own man, esperare from Barry, and he still had a hold on me. A part of me perhaps already did care for him. Perhaps that was the part that would have loved him one day. If we’d had the chance.

“I don’t have a plan.” My voice was even and unrelenting. His eyes flared with anger for a moment, and it seemed that he might lash out. But I was special to him. He didn’t know Iris, and he specifically hated Barry. Everyone else was lost to him. Strangers who estranged themselves. Who shut him out first. But me? I was supposed to be the love of his life. He couldn’t be the monster he became so easily around the others. The violence he didn’t struggle to harness for them was impossible with me. We both knew it. He melted, slowly at first but then very suddenly all at once. He fell from his chair, moving around the table at super speed to kneel in front of me. He turned my chair so that he could move close to me. His hands rested on my wrists, and he held my gaze. There was a deep desperation there. Pleading. Very like the look that Caitlyn had given me. “I don’t have your memories. I don’t remember what you did, or do, or how you change through time. I… I can only beg. I will do anything for you, just please let it happen.”

My frown twisted into almost a snarl. Almost. I couldn’t quite bring true bitterness to use against him either, as he could not summon violence against me. We were trapped in our love for each other. In our softness, at the very least. “Why would I do anything you asked me to?”

He searched my eyes, and then sighed with relief when he found it. Found the part of me still fighting to survive. He recognized that I hadn’t completely given up. Completely committed myself to death. What sentient creature didn’t have survival reflexes that fought to extend those last moments? Who didn’t cling to life, even when death was inevitable?

He saw that part of me that fought and he sought to encourage it. “You find love after him. You’re so happy with me. We get married in the place from your dream board. Every dream you had comes true. You have a whole life, Y/n. You have eternity. It feels like eternity for us. It feels like forever. Where I’m from, it’s only been a few years, but I’ve been to the future. I’m a hero because of you. I take Barry’s place. That horrible world that he created for a while, when he leaves everyone behind - I fill it. You help me. We become the new team Flash. It’s… it’s different,” and it’s a plea when he says it. A desperate sell to get me to see the future he does. To want it. To believe in it. To fight for it. Or, more accurately, to not fight because of it. To give up and let it all happen. “But it’s ours. He never loves you. He never will. But I will. I see what he doesn’t. What he won’t. And we’re so much happier than they ever could have been. We’re worth it. We’re worth this.”

I can’t help myself. Even for Savatar, who I want to hate, who I’m going to destroy, I can’t bring myself not to want to reassure him. As I reassured Caitlyn last time, and have reassured Harry and Cisco and Barry and Iris and even Joe. I lean close, and I press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter close and he leans into me, hands loosening their death grip as he melts into the affection. The first time I have showed it to him, as I am. A sign that I am capable of becoming the person who loves him. A beacon of hope I’m sure. I kiss him and I hold him when he leans into me and I close my eyes and, worst of all, I lie to him. “I won’t do it. I won’t do anything. I want that future with you. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to be with you.” And it isn’t a complete lie. There are truths there that ring in my voice, making it warmer and filling it with light and hope and joy.

Half lies are so much easier to believe.

And he does believe them.

Savitar leans away from me, a hand rising to push hair behind my ear as he looks into my gaze and sees tears. “Can I kiss you?” He asked this question only once, always seeking out how much affection he’s allowed to show me. Until now, I couldn’t face something like that. The betrayal to Barry that it would be. We barely got to hugging until tonight.

But tonight… I’m going to die for Barry. I’m going to give him the ultimate sacrifice for his happiness. I can be a little selfish. Take a small betrayal for myself.

“Yes,” I whisper. Savitar doesn’t wait to be told again - he just kisses me. He has been waiting for this and I can tell. I’ve been waiting for it too, and that takes me by surprise. This weird in between, where kissing him is the daydream of kissing Barry that I have king craved, but also something completely new and separate and not about Barry at all. The part of me that will always love Barry meets the part of me that finds it easier and easier to love Savitar and I finally understand. They are the same part. I never moved on from Barry to love Savitar. It was new and also the same. Me getting everything I ever wanted and also something completely different. Me holding onto what I’ve been holding onto since day one, but also letting it go too. I didn’t move on from Barry - it was like dating his brother or his best friend. It was unfair to Savitar and even more unfair to me.

This darker me with these far more selfish desires…. It was sickening to think about. How could I have done this?

Now it was clearer than ever that I was going to go with the plan I’d picked. I was sure. I wouldn’t become the person Savitar knew me as. I wouldn’t let that version of me win. Not this time. Not ever.

-

The device wrapped around my wrist, disguised as a bracelet, had a wire attached that ran underneath my long sleeve, up my arm to the power source on my chest. The full body machine had been beautifully effective in making me not only look like Iris West, but being one hundred convincing in proving that I was her. I could smell her perfume, reach up and almost feel the curl on her hair. I would die as Iris West and no one would have time to recognize me, let alone stop me. They’d only have time to mourn me. And with Savatar’s defeat following so close after my own, I doubted they’d have the capacity to do anything other than celebrate.

Just as they always did. Take a moment and then let it go. Continue to be happy and successful, as the friends we’d lost along the way would want. And that was true, I did want them to be happy. I only wished I could have seen it.

Savatar had me in his grip, and I flinched as he gripped me a little too tightly. There was no softness now. No tenderness spared for the person he loved. I was Iris to him now. He wouldn’t realize he had killed the person most precious to him until it was too late.

I felt bad for him. It felt terrible that I was making him do this. That he was choosing to do it. That, perhaps, the forces of the universes drove him to be in such a position that we were all partially guilty. For treating him poorly. For having to kill Iris to survive. To choose between the woman he loved once, and the person he would come to love after. To chose between the man he had once been and the man he was made into after he wasn’t that man anymore. After he stopped being Barry and everyone turned on him.

My eyes closed when his fingers wrapped around my throat, my head tilting back as I felt the sun on my face for the last time.

Barry screamed.

Someone else screamed even louder.

My eyes flew open, recognizing Iris’s voice. She had her blazer opened, revealing the device on her chest. The one I had out there to turn her into me. To make her look like me so that she could hide until it was all over. So she could live.

What in the holy hell was she doing now?

Whatever it was, whatever play she had been trying to make at the last moment to save my life, it had been too late. Savatar flicked his wrist, gripping hard as he began to speed up, letting the speed force take him. He soon slammed to a halt as he processed that Iris was standing so far from him when she was supposed to be in his grip. That she was in two places at once.

Unfortunately for me, he had moved, and in shock he had loosened his grip. Barry didn’t have super strength, neither did Savatar. I ripped from him, going flying as my body rag dolled. I slammed into something solid. A tree? A wall? I couldn’t quite tell, my vision was blurry and spotted and for a second I couldn’t breathe. Everything spun and I was stunned - frozen in a moment of free fall and terror. Iris was supposed to have been zipped away, neck snapped and eyes dead to the world. Everything had gone wrong…

And then it went even worse.

The pain came all at once as my moment frozen in time ended. The agony of my burning body as I groaned while trying to scream. I realized immediately that my leg was broken and there was something wrong with my chest. Maybe a rib broken as well? Definitely a concussion. I blinked my eyes and saw blood around my face. Oh… I had hit something very hard indeed. Several broken things and a head wound. I was horribly injured, but perhaps not mortally.

Savitar was above me, tears streaming down his face. “Why?” He was asking, over and over again. Trying to understand. Failing to do so. I realized that in the process of my injury, the machine hiding who I was had broken. I was exposed as myself now, and all his softness was back. No betrayal. No anger. Just loss. Only mourning.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And I realized that I had said it every single time he had asked me. A mantra of my own to match his.

He had lost the chance to kill Iris. In running to my side, the time had passed and as he looked down at me we both knew it. Love had won out in the end. But not our love. His love for me maybe, but my love for Barry. Barry’s love for Iris. A cycle of unrequited, unreturned devotion. An unending string of broken hearts.

As the pain took over and I went unconscious, I saw his skin begin to fade away, turning into waves of light and energy. He unwound and spun off into the breeze, and he cried for me and I cried for him and we watched the other fade away as our friends watched the two of us, unsure if or even how to help.

The last thing I saw was him, still asking why, me still answering in echoing apologies, and my friends still watching in horror.

-

I woke up in the infirmary bed that Barry had laid in, in a coma a few years ago now. I woke up to see him sitting in a chair next to me, as I’d sat in a chair next to him. I had been apart of the team building the particle accelerator. I had been a designer. An engineer. I put metal and fabric together with the same fingers, the same methods. Back then I hadn’t been here for the day it all went wrong. I’d moved onto another project, one I’d be kicked from when my name got dragged through the mud and my credibility was demolished. Caitlyn, Wells, and Cisco had welcomed me back with open arms, and though I couldn’t do much in studying Barry, I was a good comfort. Even with him unconscious I’d found myself falling for him in the stories that were told and the things people shared with him while unconscious to get him to respond. To get him to come back. I admired hun through their eyes, and felt their love until he one day was awake and had become my friend and I got to love him in a way that was all my own.

Now it was a bit startling to see him next to me, hand holding mine and completely unconscious. Just as he had found me the first day he had woken up. Dutiful and beside him like a guardian. A watcher, waiting for him to wake him as he waited for me now.

“Barry?” I went to pull my hand away and he stirred immediately, desperately holding onto me as he lifted his head, blinking bleary eyes heavy with sleep. He looked around the room, obviously not expecting the interruption to have come from me. How many times had the others had to drag him from this room? Oh god why did that make my heart do somersaults?

When he realized I was awake he light up. Still tired but far more alert, as it super charged by seeing me awake and seemingly better. I hurt but I could muster a smile and that seemed to be enough. He whispered my name, pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You’re awake,” he mumbled dreamily. Like it was the most important news he had ever gotten.

I couldn’t help it. I blushed. “Yes. I am.”

He chuckled and I watched him as he wiped sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ve been doing that a lot, here, in this chair. Gotta be bad for my back.” He tilted his head in an attempt to pop his neck, but didn’t let go of my hand.

“Barry,” I began slowly, eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of what was happening in front of me. “I’m lost.”

He smiled, as if I had done something rather adorable. These were one of those almost-maybe moments where I thought he might have loved me if things were different. It took me by surprise now, lasting longer than it usually did. His tender admiration didn’t fade or switch out or get embarrassed or distracted and flee. He turned his full attention toward me without hesitation. “I can imagine how… disorienting it would be. To almost die trying to save Iris for me, only to wake up and… it’s all different now.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He grew quiet for a moment, holding my hand and letting his thumb run back and forth across my skin. When he spoke, I found that I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. It was too much but I didn’t dare stop him. I didn’t dare stop him. “When I realized it had been you the whole time. That all this time, I had been watching you die. Not Iris. Or, maybe Iris, but that this time it was you. That somewhere maybe it changed. I saw something else too. I saw her guilt, and found out how long she’d known what you were doing. She didn’t even come that day - Harry did. Disguised as Iris to save you, willing to sacrifice his life for yours. Both of you so brave and amazing. And… I can’t imagine what it would be like to know you were going to die and then seeing an alternative. But, I understood you more than I did her after that. You get me in a way she never will. I sacrifice myself for people too. That’s what being a hero is about. And I am a hero to some people. I try to be a hero as much as I can be. I want to be a person who stands with pride. Not with guilt. And… it made me love you even more. It made me realize that I’ve had these feelings for you for a while.”

I blinked. “That’s impossible.”

Barry laughed, once, startled by my reaction. “You’d have thought. I was sick over Iris…” he shook his head. “But I realized, it was obsession more than love. I was fixated on her. I couldn’t have any other relationships, couldn’t even entertain them. I was trapped by this idea of destiny. The newspaper and Earth 2 and Eobard Thawne and Eddie dying. It was like we had this great destiny. Like I had to be with her. I was expected to be. It was all leading to this. And I realized that a part of it was that it felt useless to try anything else. My future had already been decided. And part of it was that it felt like a prize. For being a hero, and for being patient. For waiting for her. It felt like a reward.” He scowled. “And I realized that’s a super toxic mentality to have. Iris isn’t s prize, or a reward - she’s a person. And I kept treating her like she was only going to be happy if she was with me. That we were two halves of a whole. But she’s a whole person by herself, and she’s capable and worthy of happiness on her own.” He shrugged. “Between that and my love for you, surging in this moment… I just felt like an idiot. I’d spent so much time wasted on a relationship I’d already failed by feeling like I was owed something. I’m not, and it’s different with you. Freer. This happened naturally, and despite everything else. Against all odds. It was given to me, I worked for it. No destiny, no predetermination. Just you and me. No god or fate involved. And I like it better this way.”

My heart surged, and my eyes went wide. “Barry Allen, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

He laughed, this time for a while, and he kissed my hand again. “That was.. a lot, all at once.” He sighed, grabbing my hands between both of his. “I’m sorry, let’s start with something more simple. How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Wonderful.”

He beamed back. “Perfect. Can I kiss you?”

It felt like a dream as I whispered, “Yes.” He kissed me and I thought about when I had kissed Savitar. We had both dodged relationships that were bad for us. He had been obsessed with Iris his entire life, eternally pining and blinded, treating her like so much less than a person. And I had done the same with Savitar. Iris had been an idea to him, as Savitar was a missed opportunity I had seized in a new and different way.

How much better that we lived in the timeline where s’more genuine love won out. That we chose each other and got to be our best selves, instead of pushing for relationships that we wanted no matter the cost. No matter protest or person. This… this was freer. More innocent. Kinder.

“I love you,” I whispered, and I felt no guilt. Only joy. I imagine that the other me must have felt a lot of guilt. But not this me. Not this time. Finally I was free of that.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, and I heard it in his voice too. The freedom. The joy. The love.

How wonderful was that?

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[currymanganese]

I sad. I saw a sydcarmy post on Instagram and the comments were saying that they were brothers, syd was a lesbian (wtf???) and that if anyone there had feelings it was her and not him... I left there very sad 😪😔

Idk what else to say other than - you may want to steer clear of The Bear related fan spaces apart from here on Tumblr, on TikTok, and some corners of Twitter. Many fan spaces on Reddit, Facebook and IG etc. are dominated by casual fans that either a) gloss over Sydney's importance to Carmy, or b) outright hate her because of their own unchecked biases. So if these fans can get away with it they'll argue and downplay the possibility of a romantic relationship developing between the show's leads even if it doesn't align with what we've seen so far on the show.

1. Refuting the first claim "they're like brothers":

In addition to baselessly masculinizing Sydney (a common manifestation of misogynoir) - this claim ignores the fact that Carmy does not treat his siblings the way he treats Sydney, in any given regular moment with his brother and sister, he casually trades barbs with them, curses and verbally fights them. In S1 when Nat tells him the IRS is threathening to seize her house, because of all Mikey's unpaid business taxes, Carmy bitterly and bluntly tells her she shouldn't have cosigned for an addict. Now, mind you, Carmy was under a lot of stress and grieving himself in that moment, but it shows a lack of sensitivity to Nat's feelings / a lack of fear of pushing her away emotionally, "blood is thicker than water" after all and by the end of the episode he and his sister smooth things over.

Also in S2 in Fishes after Mikey makes a comment to Donna that Carmy perceives as Mikey being passive aggressive towards him - "get Carmy to help you, all he does is help." Carmy lashes out at Mikey (his beloved hero of an older brother/father figure mind you) and, to paraphrase, he says (possibly parroting the vitriol that Uncle Lee regularly wields against Mikey) that all Mikey does is make plans and come up with businesses that fail. When stressed Carmy can resort to very low blows against his siblings at the slightest provocations - and in the way that siblings often are - he is not overly concerned about hurting their feelings in these moments, or about running the risk of driving them away permanently.

In contrast, even when (on paper anyways) Syd was just his employee in S1, whenever Carmy loses his temper with Sydney (over the stock that Tina secretly sabotages, and over Syd's eagerness to have her dish approved for the menu) he is on pins and needles when he senses she is withdrawn and unhappy with him in response. He goes out of his way to try to apologize to her - checking in with her by bringing her a meal and prying into what's bothering her in Brigade, and by asking her if THEY are okay again at the end of episode 6. As early as episode 3 in season 1, Brigade, Carmy begins outright referring to himself and Sydney as a "We" - "We wanna change this restaurant, right? We need to change the chemistry." He confides that he's going to Al-anon to Syd in this same episode even before he tells his sister Natalie in episode 4, even though Nat was the one that asked him to go in the first place! And this is after knowing Sydney for a few weeks, maybe even for a month at most!

And in the most startling demonstration of why Carmy does not think of Sydney as a sister, when she leaves in Review after he rages at her, he is despondent - distraught even - he caresses her notebook that she left behind, he wistfully tells Tina that she is dressed like Syd when she finally dons the staff uniform (that everyone wears, including him), he almost burns the restaurant down and makes no move to get the fire under control, and he verbally chides possibly Mikey AND himself for being stupid before opening Mikey's suicide note - AND desperately tries to touch base / reconnect with Syd through text before he opens Mikey's note.

If Syd is like a sister to him, why didn't he reach out to Natalie via text first to let her know he was about to open Mikey's note? Why did he need to know Syd wouldn't ignore him to get the courage to open that envelope? Why does he worry that he may offend Syd by having Mikey's note on the expo in S2, so much so that he delegates Richie to have that conversation with her in Bolognese instead? Why can't he talk to her about something like that himself? Is he afraid of exposing himself by getting too personal with her, like he wanted to in their alley talk in Brigade?

To say nothing of the intensity with which he gazes at Sydney, before nearly always looking away when she looks at him too. What brother feels guilty and self conscious about being caught staring at their sister? And lastly, Carmy bluntly reprimanded his sister for cosigning for Mikey's debts in Season 1, but by Season 2 he and Natalie are jointly jumping 800k, plus interest, into debt to Cicero to open Carmy and Mikey's (but really it's for Sydney!)'s dream restaurant - and he tells Sydney the whole thing is for her in so many words, "Family style? Two tops, booths?" and, "I couldn't do this without you, I wouldn't even wanna do this without you.", and last, but not least, "It's your ship now, Captain." And before they open their doors for Family and Friends night, Syd validates Carmy's affections for her by reassuring him and his family with the mantra that Mikey left behind in the note that Carmy worried that Syd would've been uncomfortable with having on her workstation.

"Let it rip."

Only the note said, "Love you dude, let it rip." Syd wouldn't tell them the first part, "Love you dudes-" for good reason.

Can Syd tell Nat that she loves her and have things remain platonic between them? Syd may think it would be too over familiar to say now since she hasn't known her for long, but yes, things would remain platonic and sisterly between her and Nat if she said that she loved her. Can Syd tell Richie that she loves him and have things remain platonic between them? They were at loggerheads in S1 and have come to have an awkward level of comfort and respect with one another, with Richie telling her father how important she has become to the restaurant (but really, how important she has become to the Berzattos), so yes, if Syd ever told Richie that she loved him in passing in the future, things could still conceivably remain platonic and fraternal/sororal between them. However, as their relationship stands now, can Syd tell Carmy that she loves him and have things remain platonic and comfortable/affable/sexually neutral between them?

NO! SHE CAN'T!

AND THAT'S BECAUSE THIS UNSPOKEN THING BETWEEN SYD AND CARMY IS NOT SIBLING BEHAVIOUR!

AND SYD IS NOT ANOTHER NATALIE BERZATTO, NOR IS SHE CARMY'S SURROGATE FOR MIKEY! 🗣

From personal experience, I have two beloved older brothers and one of them is even a father figure to me, similar to the way that Carmy adored and looked up to Mikey, but I can assure you that they would not jeopardize their livelihoods to appease me after a disagreement or period of estrangement to make my dreams come true to the tune of going almost US$1,000,000 into debt! Carmy has never demonstrated normal platonic/fraternal regard towards Sydney, NEVER! Like @gingerylangylang1979 said, he wants her carnally, he's in love!

2. Syd's sexuality:

And as for Syd being a lesbian? Some of us Sydcarmy girlies hashed out our skepticism over this assumption in the replies of @cruciomione ' s post here. If Syd was a lesbian, if she had not even an iota of romantic affection and desire for Carmy, and her desire to work with him was only attached to her professional regard for him, then she could've left immediately after episode one when Carmy aired out that the business was failing in his argument with Richie

- and nobody would be able to blame her if she never looked back.

Regardless of whether she was consciously in love with him or not at the time, it took no small measure of selflessness, combined with faith in Carmy's skills as a chef and deep compassion for him as a person, for Syd to want to stay with Carmy and help him sort out the mess that was The Original Beef. Carmy was in way over his head. Sydney has seen Carmy at his worst and because he is currently so embattled with unprocessed trauma, grief, stress, and mental illness, and because she is already extremely capable as a chef and former business owner herself, he has not proven himself to be the mentor that she would've been hoping for when she first came to stage at The Beef, but she still chooses him time and time again. It would make sense if she stays and is so devoted to him and the idea of partnering with him to operate his family's restaurant, if her fidelity is partly due to her having feelings for him.

3. Only Syd is attracted to Carmy:

WRONG! See Points 1 and 2 (why they're not like brother and sister/ why it's unlikely that Syd is a lesbian) and also try to explain why a man without feelings for a woman, a man without curtains in his apartment or proper storage for his beloved denim collection would go exponentially deeper into debt to open a dream restaurant with said woman he supposedly has no feelings for, a woman he has known for a year at most, no less! And also explain why (if he has no feelings for her) he'd procure an expensive custom monogrammed designer chef jacket for her even when he left all his other (ACTUAL) work obligations to her undone all season long?? You can't explain it unless his interest in her is not exclusively altruistic and professional, and unless his personal fondness for her and her importance to him (as a woman he is deeply ATTRACTED TO) is superseding everything else he should be caring about, even their own business and his new girlfriend herself.

Only Syd is attracted to Carmy?? But I thought they said she was a lesbian? She can't be a card carrying Kinsey 6 lesbian AND have unrequited love for him at the same time. Antis have to make up their minds, which is it? At the end of the day, Syd still manages to focus on her job despite her possible attraction to Carmy, she doesn't let her feelings distract her from her goals, but Carmy on the other hand is absolutely crushed when he can't make good on his promises he made to her in Omelette, and begins rapidly spiralling downward in the S2 finale accordingly, even before Claire breaks things off with him.

Carmy undoubtedly has feelings for Sydney, otherwise why would he be so frantic when she didn't come to him when he screamed for her from the walk-in the S2 finale? He is deathly afraid of upsetting her and letting her down AND losing her again. His mind is addled for sheer love of her, he is grappling with emotions he is yet to fully understand.

P.S. If you've read this long post, thank you and allow me to shamelessly plug one of my relevant edits 🥰

[cinderswrites]

F A I T H :: 30 Fics in 30 Days 3256 / 30000 words. 11% done!

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This challenge is something I made based off the 30k November challenge. I plan on writing one short story per day every day of November, and since I know I'll probably blow past the 30k mark, I changed the name.

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"Faith" is a story about challenging beliefs, rebellion, and maybe hope a little bit.

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:: WC: 3,256 :: CW: mentions of religion, mentions of suicide ::

!! The opinions of the characters in this story do not reflect my personal beliefs or stances on these particular subjects. !!

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The sun was hot against her back as Audrina trailed behind her father and his wife up the sidewalk to his church. It stood stark white against the deep emeralds of the pine trees behind it. Trees that were evergreen and thick with needles. A forest that called to her, whispered her name almost.

She wanted to be anywhere other than here, that was for damn sure.

Don’t say that.

The harsh voice of her father scolded her in her mind, even though he appeared to be calm and in a pleasant mood as he unlocked the heavy oak door to the church. The twins, her step-mother’s children from a previous marriage, stood off to the side, whispering between each other and shooting her glances with their identical pale blue eyes.

Eyes that reminded her of a dead fish.

“Audrina,” her father said, his voice stern and nasally. Her cornflower blue eyes, a blue that was actually pleasing to look at, jerked towards him like a deer in headlights. “Make sure the pews are clean and everyone’s hymnals are in their place.”

He was a shorter man, rather portly in the middle even if he refused to acknowledge it, if the strain on his white button shirt was any indication. His round face was clean-shaven and there was a tiny cut on the side of his jaw he hadn’t noticed. The blood had dried on their drive to the church and it was what her eyes focused on as he issued his demands.

Always so demanding.

She’d been free of it for the last ten years, at least. But now she was home, back in this tiny awful town somewhere in Nowhere, Colorado. They could hardly be considered a part of what the lower states were often called: the Bible Belt.

Since she was a good daughter, though, she nodded and walked through the door he held open for her. Inside the church, it was dusty and humid, typically in this time of year. It was still early summer. She’d only returned from college a few weeks ago and already she hated this place. The dust was almost thick enough to choke her, and she almost wondered why none of the parishioners helped clean the place up.

She took her time making sure everything was neat and organized like she had been taught as a young girl. They always arrived hours before service anyway. In the background, she could hear the twins still whispering, watching her like the creepy little things they were. Mary Louanne’s daughters might just be the devil’s spawn, she thought to herself.

Some time had passed and about a half-hour into the service, Audrina slipped out the back of the chapel, making her way to the front door. She was suffocating in this heat, made worse by the many bodies occupying the pews and the thick wafting perfumes that hung heavily in the air from women fanning themselves. It was a church, not a gala. She never understood why the women dressed up to talk about Jesus.

Audrina pushed open the heavy oak door, closing it behind her and turning around, wiping the sweat off her brow. Her thick wavy chestnut brown hair hung almost sadly around her shoulders, also weighed down by the humidity. If only she had an elastic, or a ribbon–

She paused in her motions, taking on the deer in the headlights look again. There was a man some odd ten feet or so from the oak door. He had his hands shoved inside the pockets of his leather jacket–Who the hell wears leather in the eighty degree summer heat?

His dark eyes flicked to her face, startled to see her as well. He shifted his weight from hip to hip for a moment, looking away, his expression troubled. She lowered her hand and folded it in front of her with the other one, watching him carefully. She’d seen him around before, usually after services, hovering on the edge. Watching the parishioners leave. Watching her father thank people and talk with them about the day’s sermon as he always loved to drone on about it long after it was over.

The man reached up to run a hand through his sandy blond hair, a messy thing that fell in loose waves around his face and down his neck. He had ear piercings and tattoos, and there was stubble on his face like he hadn’t bothered to clean up. “So, uh-“ his voice was a smooth and deep timbre, like the low hum of a bass guitar in the rock songs she sneakily listened to sometimes. “Sermon not… good today?” His question was awkward and it was clear he didn’t know what to say.

Audrina looked down with a small smile, trying not to be impolite by laughing. She glanced up at him, shaking her head slightly. “No, no,” she stuck her hands in the pockets of her dress skirt, pockets she’d sewn in herself. “It’s rather… muggy in there. I needed some fresh air, although… it’s not much better out here, is it?”

She raised her hand, blocking the hot sun and looking up in the clear blue sky. For a summer day, it was wonderful. For a Sunday, it was torture.

The man chuckled and scuffed his black boot against the ground, “Yeah, I suppose it isn’t.”

Feeling a little less on edge, she took a few steps towards him until she stood beside him, turning to face the church and look at it as he had been. “Do you need… help, or anything?” she asked with a side glance.

He seemed to stiffen a bit when she came near, even though she’d kept a polite distance between them. “Ah, no…” he hesitated. “Guess I’m just… curious, maybe.”

“About… the church?” she pressed.

“Sorta,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling with what he was trying to say. “I don’t know.”

His sigh made her turn her head to look at him. “Well… do you want to go in for service?” she tried a different approach.

His brown eyes met hers as he scoffed, wrinkling his nose. Up close, she could see a smattering of freckles on his face. “No,” he said quickly.

Audrina shrugged, “Alright, then.”

As she looked back at the church, her hands resting in her pockets, she could feel his gaze on the side of her face. Like he was studying her. He spoke up after a minute or so of silence, “What’s your name? I see you around with the priest and his wife sometimes.”

“Audrina,” her blue eyes flicked to him as she answered, before moving back to the church. “Audrina Montgomery. The priest is my father, and his wife is my step-mother, Mary Louanne. Her daughters, the twin girls that are usually hovering around, are Sarah and Jane.”

“Mm,” he grunted in response, looking away. “Those twins, your step-sisters… they’re kinda freaky looking, yeah?” he pointed out.

That brought out a surprise laugh from her, and she tilted her head down, unable to hide her grin. “Yeah, yeah they are,” she agreed. She turned her face towards him again. “They’re always together and always whispering and watching me. It’s definitely… freaky.”

He chuckled in response, and she found it to be a comforting noise for an odd reason, “That’s fucking weird.”

Her lips twitched a little at his cursing. She wasn’t entirely a prude, she’d heard people cursing in college and occasionally did it herself, but she wasn’t used to it. Not in Lone River, at least. “So, who are you?” she questioned, keeping her voice casual and friendly as she looked at him once more.

The man shifted his weight around again, as if debating on telling her. “Miah Banks,” he finally said.

“Miah? That’s a name I haven’t heard,” she raised an eyebrow.

“It’s short for Jeremiah,” he shrugged. “Reagan gave the name to me a while ago.”

“Reagan?” her eyes widened.

As in Reagan, Reagan? The scary ruthless leader of that biker gang on the edge of town her father warned her about when she returned home? Did that mean he was also a gang member?

Miah frowned slightly, his guard going up immediately. “… Yeah, Reagan,” his tone was flat.

Audrina’s face softened, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that. Truth be told, I haven’t been in Lone River for a lot of years, so I’m still unfamiliar with all… well, you know.”

He nodded, relaxing a little, “I see. I guess I’m just used to people writing us off as devils in leather, or somethin’.”

She let out a soft snort. “Now, Devils in Leather would kind of be a cool name,” she smiled playfully.

Miah’s stoic-looking face cracked into a lopsided grin as he chuckled, “It does sound good. Maybe I should bring it up to Reagan and see what he thinks.”

“Speaking of leather, how are you not melting?” she looked pointedly at his black leather jacket. He didn’t even seem to be sweating.

He shrugged one of his broad shoulders, “Used to it.”

“Well, I’m not, so I’m going to move over that way for some shade,” she started walking towards the tree line. She could already feel the cooler wind from the forest beckoning her, wrapping around her ankles and pulling her forward like invisible tendrils begging her to get closer.

Miah followed behind her without hesitation, his boots crunching against the dry grass and pebble mixture. Audrina sat beneath one of the pine trees, carefully folding her skirt underneath her and behind mindful of the pine needles. He sat down near her, raising one of his knees and draping an arm on top of it. “So, you’re the priest’s daughter, then?” he asked, wanting clarification.

“Unfortunately,” she rolled her eyes, sighing. The cooler air beneath the shade of the trees was already helping her feel less like she was boiling.

He glanced at her curiously, “And you sound happy about that, I see.”

“It’s not that-“ she sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, life’s kinda like that, I noticed,” he offered casually. “Something you want to get off your mind?”

Audrina studied his face for a moment, wondering if he was being genuine. He wasn’t anything like the monsters her father tried to paint the Sons of Night as. If anything, he seemed rather… calm. She looked away, back to the church once again. “He sent me away,” she explained. “To a private school. Catholic. I lived there until I graduated, and then I went to college, and now I’m home, and it’s…”

“Complicated?”

She glanced at him and smiled. “Yeah. Complicated,” she ran a hand through her thick locks and sighed.

“… It sounds like it might have been rough on you,” Miah stated. “That school, I mean.”

“It was,” she nodded. “I wasn’t able to mail letters to any of my friends back home, and they all moved on and grew up without me. Everything had to be done according to their rules or we were punished unfairly. My father remarried and didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I didn’t even know I had little sisters until I came back, so that should tell you how much he kept in touch with me.”

She looked down at her hands, scratching at some dry skin on her cuticle. Just the thought of that awful school almost made her shiver out of habit. Miah’s voice was gentle as he spoke to her, “You must have been pretty lonely, then. Still, even.”

Audrina looked up at him, not bothering to hide the vulnerable expression on her face. “Yeah… I am,” she huffed a bitter laugh.

Miah’s eyes were filled with something like understanding as he met hers. “Sorry you went through that.”

She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s… fine. I’m fine, really. Just figuring out where to go from here,” she let out another sigh.

“My old man wasn’t much of a father, either,” he sympathized. “He tried, but his mind was too… messed up, or somethin’.”

Miah had pulled a cigarette out of the pack he pulled from his jacket, sticking it between his lips and lighting it up. He hesitated for a moment before offering the pack to her.

Audrina stared at it, her heart suddenly skipping a beat. She reached out and took one, leaning towards him as he lit it. She took a careful drag, wrinkling her nose at the vaguely familiar taste of tobacco and nicotine. She’d smoked a few times, mostly socially, in college, but even so, she still coughed a bit.

Miah chuckled a little, exhaling a plume of blue-white smoke himself. “First time?”

“No,” she mumbled, her cheeks heating up a little out of embarrassment. “Been a while.”

“Rebellious,” he said, amused. “I like it.”

Audrina couldn’t hide the smile that comment caused, “S-shut up…”

“Anyway,” Miah continued after a moment. “My dad was the kind of person that just couldn’t handle life, I think. He ended up offing himself when I was sixteen.”

She took a drag and it went down easier this time, exhaling and looking at him in surprise. “S-suicide?” she whispered.

He nodded.

“Jeez,” she let out a breath, “I’m sorry, Miah.”

The blond shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s a selfish thing, suicide. You think you’re keeping others from being burdened by you, but really you’re just leaving behind people that need you.”

She looked at the church again. Her mind wondered what sort of deity would be so cruel to afflict someone’s mind with such torment that their only relief was to no longer exist. “Do you believe? In God, religion, or anything like that?” she asked suddenly.

Miah laughed bitterly, “Hell no. What about you? Did your little school girl pinafore and habit leech your beliefs out of you?” His tease was almost on the mark.

Audrina scoffed, shooting a glare at him. “I wasn’t a nun, jeez,” she grumbled. “But that school certainly didn’t help. I also experienced a lot in college, and that kind of helped me separate the church from reality, as it is.”

“Yeah? Were you the rebellious preacher’s daughter once daddy’s eyes weren’t on you?” he continued his almost-mocking tone, but she could tell there was no malice hidden in his words.

She rolled her eyes, taking another drag and pausing before answering. “I experimented like any other young adult, I suppose. I definitely feel like a fish out of water being back here, though.” she frowned.

“Mm, I can imagine,” he nodded solemnly, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out in the dirt, flicking the butt away.

Audrina followed its trajectory until it settled on the ground somewhere. She finished hers as well and flicked it away in the same manner. “What about you? How… have you been, after what happened with your dad?” she asked.

Miah took a deep breath, “Better now. I was just a runt back then, so I didn’t have much goin’ for me. Reagan actually found me and took me in. Wouldn’t let me prospect until I was eighteen, though.”

“Prospect? What’s that?”

He glanced at her and smiled, “Right. It’s when you first join a club, like a probationary period. A test trial, if you prefer. Gotta prove your worth and your loyalty to your brothers and all that before you get patched in.”

Audrina took a closer look at his leather jacket, noting the various patches on it, “I’m assuming ‘patched in’ means you get something like that, and you’re official?”

“Yeah. It’s called a cut. We always wear our cuts no matter what,” he explained, and she could hear that hint of pride in his tone.

“You also said ‘brothers’. Is that what you guys are? A brotherhood of sorts?”

“Something like that. It’s hard to explain, but once you’re in the club, you’re in for life. It becomes your life, and the other members, your brothers, are your family. We protect our family, always. We always have each other’s backs,” Miah spoke in a somber tone, and she could tell that this ‘club’ of his was very serious for him.

It made her think of the church again. Always was she making comparisons, but she couldn’t help it. Religion had been her life for so long, and this biker, Miah, was speaking about something that seemed deeper even than the bond the parishioners had with their priest. Almost like a blood oath or something.

Audrina was envious. “It sounds incredible,” her voice was quiet. “That sense of family and loyalty, even if you aren’t actually related… I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

She could feel his brown eyes on her again, watching her. Probably seeing if she was teasing or being mocking. “It is,” he agreed. “Like nothing else.”

She was about to say something else when the old brass bell on top of the church suddenly tolled, its rings clanging out into the still summer heat. It made her flinch and she looked upset that their conversation had to end now.

Together, they stood up and walked back out into the summer sun, now a comfortable warmth rather than a blazing heat on her skin. The door to the church opened and people started leaving, looking red and sweaty and uncomfortable. Audrina crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Miah. “Will I see you again?” she furrowed her brows a little, frowning.

It should have been embarrassing, the almost desperate tone in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. He was like nothing she’d ever seen or experienced before. If anything, he was far more understanding than any of the ‘devout Catholics’ that were currently coming out of their sardine can.

His smile was a warm one, and he reached out to poke her cheek with one of his calloused fingers. “Smile,” he said, and it wasn’t a demand nor a suggestion. “Whatever bad shit is going on, just keep smiling, okay?”

Her breath left her, her blue eyes widening. She could feel her cheeks heat up again. “I…”

Miah reached up to brush his thumb over her eyebrow, where that strawberry birthmark marred her face like a splotch of red paint staining her skin. A mark that her father had said she was kissed by an angel, while Mary Louanne said she was branded by the devil. A mark that she was otherwise self-conscious of until this moment.

“I’ll be around again,” he answered her question, dropping his hand.

“… You promise?” she whispered.

Almost like it was ingrained in her, she could feel her father’s gaze boring into her back, knowing he’d have words for her later. Miah glanced over her shoulder, and she knew who he was looking at without turning around. “Yeah. I promise,” he said softly.

He nodded at her and turned to start walking away. She stood in place and watched him head to the old black Harley that had been parked at the edge of the gravel lot in front of the church. The roar of the motorcycle felt like something ignited inside of her.

“Audrina? Who was that?” her father’s voice sounded huffy and impatient as he strolled up next to her, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Miah turned and shot her a wink before revving his bike and riding away.

“No one important,” she smiled as she lied, knowing she might have just found something—rather, someone—new to put her faith in.

[helioshellion]

hi im bucky and welcome to my long list of kiryu and majima headcanons mostly revolving around health related stuff bc that interests me. ive talked about it before but ive been wanting to reveal my mastermind plans for them. ive vaguely alluded to these all in my fics like friday night and phanto. anyways heres a list. may range from mildly nsfw but in a more medical way not a sexual manner since idc about that sort of thing

KIRYU

So for Kiryu he is a trans man who forgets his t injections every day of his life. every time he gets out of prison he has to restart on it and every time he has to go through all the initial stages once again like an evil cycle of hormones.

He has extreme nerve damage in his hands/fingertips due to severe hypothermia suffered at the end of Yakuza 5, and therefore cannot feel in his hands anymore.

Also suffers from a migraine disorder.

He deals with a very prominent compartmentalization problem stirred by his ever-changing life stages. A sort of out-of-sight-out-of-mind mentality born out of his fear of losing absolute control over his life. This goes hand-in-hand with general low empathy.

This also results in an extremely flippant attitude towards both sex and romance. He is not committal at all and does not imagine himself settling down. He is a reserved person, but he doesn’t shy away from sex. He lives in Kamurocho, after all. He’s just mostly desensitized and is mostly neutral towards it as he gets older.

 Yes hes bisexual love wins. But he has a low opinion of the men in his life thinking them callous and more difficult than he wants to deal with. This increases with his age and the worse the villains get. He almost has a mentality of needing to Win and Be Won in regards to romance. He must Prove Himself, or someone else must prove themself to Him.

Oh yeah and TMJ sorry to his jaw.

His life is in constant disarray and his self-contained environments reflect this. His living spaces are messes. Ashtrays filled with countless stamped cigarettes and shelves lined with half-eaten food and beer cans. He doesn’t want to be regarded as sloppy but theres something in his brain that makes him struggle with Cleaning his own spaces. There’s something about his mind that likes the control he has TO mess up his own space.

He has several single-tooth partial dentures mostly in his molar area. he has one prosthetic canine tooth.

He is no-op in regards to his transition. T has shrunk his chest enough that it sags loosely. If you’re curious, he’s dry as a desert down there. sorry.

He doesn’t exactly have a circadian rhythm. He sleeps and wakes up whenever he wants, and his brain does not register Night/Day. Meaning he could sleep through an entire day and his brain will not register sunlight. This results in getting him up to be extremely. Extremely difficult.

Big one, he lives with something like CTE. (Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (double parantheses because this condition cannot usually be diagnosed while someone is alive)) Which exemplifies his already present suicidal ideation and depression. Out of anyone in the series Kiryu has taken some of the Worst bodily trauma over a LONG period of time. It has taken a toll on his body and mind.

MAJIMA

Oh boy!

Majima has a hormone imbalance ever since the hole. if you remember in my fic Phanto I alluded to him being completely impotent and sterile due to a castration in the hole. He has gynecomastia and hypothyroidism but has no qualms about it. He’s not dysphoric about it at all, and tries to stay extremely vigilant about his testosterone intake (tgel, needles scare him).

Because of the above he has little to no sex drive, not to mention the extreme trauma relations to it. He has complexes on top of complexes about it. So he just doesn’t do it.

He has a weak right knee, which is the one he uses to kick/attack as he’s able to use his stronger leg as support. His arms and legs are longer than his torso, and he has an extreme slouch, which presents itself as a very permanent slouch crease on his stomach fold.

He has a distrust of men, mostly older than him, and is not a cis man, although he doesn’t have the language to describe himself or his sexuality. He’s old and doesn’t feel the need to.

Blatantly, not even just a Me headcanon, but Majima does have a mentality of needing to be beaten in order to fall in line. In relation to pretty much everything in his life. It’s much stronger the younger he is, and weakens as he gets older, aided by his improving mental state. By 7′s time, and he is an emotionally healthy person. Hiccups are to be expected, but they’re nothing to shame or be ashamed for.

In Dead Souls he discusses needing to keep his hair cut at an exact measurement. He is a massive micromanager in regards to Anything at any given moment. His living arrangements are extremely empty and uncreative.

The younger him was extremely flippant about caring for his eye, which resulted in several infections and close calls. It’s one of the reasons he decides to get his eye exenterated when he’s older. Somewhat of a symbolic thing as he works through his trauma, letting go of this thing that has clung to him, Literally an Infection. He changes things up, and lives happier for it. He wouldn’t have been alive it hadn’t been for Nishida.

He is one of the most intelligent people in the. Yakuza Team or whatever. Regardless of his deteriorating memory issues, he reads like a motherfucker and can beat anyone in almost any mind-game.

This is a byproduct of not considering the Kiwamis (majima everywhere and majima construction) as canon, but my Majima is very heavily inspired by 1, 2, and the movie iterations of Majima. Meaning, he is not a generally “nice” person. He is extremely empathetic, and reads people very well, but he tends to hold these qualities over peoples heads when he’s younger. As he gets older, these qualities shift to more. Altruistic purposes. He isn’t nice, but he is an understanding person.

I also shift the timeline around to place his marriage with Mirei before the events of 0 to allow better, smoother story progression. And I’m not going to handwave away anything he did because oh yeah did he fuck up.

Speaking of relationships, if Majima were to ever, he would be Very Attached. He is monogamous by heart, and is more about mental connections over inherently sexual or romantic. He is a One-and-Done person. He isn’t flippant like Kiryu, and holds an extreme amount of value in loyalty and love. He is not one for more monetary romantic gestures. He values touching a lot more, but discourages touching HIM. He’s stone. He feels love in being the one to touch, and for his partner to Be touched By Him. And I’m not talking about sexual practices or anything. But if that did progress to that, expect similar results.

However, adding to that, he is not going to try to “make things work” in any way. He will walk away if requested, and he will walk away at the inclination of things Just not working out. He jumps to conclusions quickly, but it is for good reason. Knowing when to bow out keeps him alive.

Back to body stuff. He has dentures along his entire bottom jaw. His top teeth are very discolored from smoking, resulting in a visible difference between his top and bottom teeth.

And whatever here’s Kazumaji bullshit too because I am predictable.

They’re more friends than lovers, if that makes sense. Regardless of the amount of love shared between them, their lives are a long string of boats passing by. Their loyalty for each other is extremely strong, and underlying love does carry this, but they can’t exactly settle down anytime soon. Majima talks to him as a confidant, not as a lover, and Kiryu speaks to him the same. It’s almost more intimate in a way. Neither of them put up fronts when they’re alone. They are both private together, speaking to each other ways they’d never speak to anyone else.

If we’re on a scale, Kiryu is the more romantically affectionate one. He’s the one who thinks of dates, who thinks of kissing, who thinks of whatever else. Majima doesn’t initiate any of this due to his before-said complexes on top of complexes.

Yet, on the flip side, Majima is the one who could most easily fall into domesticity. It’s something he’s fantasized for himself ever since he was a boy, and something he cast aside immediately following the hole. He imagined a family impossible for him, and has attempted to cast aside that part of himself. But there’s no destroying Who you Are. He wants to be a tender person. Once Saejima, his strongest familial relationship, returns, he lets that side of himself regain a foothold in his brain.

This is both supported and contradicted by canon depending on the game, but I’ll settle on one. Despite Majima’s reservations and trauma, he is more trusting than Kiryu in a lot of situations. (In Yakuza 2: “There’s nothing wrong with putting your trust in a guy...”) Kiryu will tend to be cynical and have to be “won” in order for him to put his trust in you. Majima, however, will put his trust if he feels he can, but is very liberal with rescinding it.

Kiryu goes through a phase in his romantic relationship with Majima where he feels unwanted due to Majima’s low intimacy drive. The only way that’s resolved is by talking. There’s a lot of things they cannot get out of their relationship with each other, and that’s absolutely fine. They find other things to make it work.

On the flip side....... Kiryu’s revolving-door life results in Majima feeling cast aside again and again. It’s not that Kiryu thinks of hurting Majima, but his idea of romance is very different to Majima’s. He thinks he can just put on a new skin and live out an entirely different life as a different person. This is what causes their relationship to fizzle out time and time again. Their relationship is a very, very unstable wave. It’ll be strong, weak, whatever. The bottom line is that they’re never going to be able to reach that Perfect Meeting Point.

BUT this is all from Yakuza 1-6....Post 7, and I have no idea! Maybe they can try again and see themselves more successful due to their Very different life circumstances. Without the clan to hold either of them back, maybe they can make things work. However, I can’t imagine them ever making anything “”official”” as in calling each other boyfriend Or getting married. Their relationship is strange and tumultuous but they genuinely. wholeheartedly Love each other.

[akajustmerry]

Hi Merry! Was just wondering if you were planning on watching class of 07?

BEST. SHOW. OF. THE. YEAR. binged it all today and can honestly say its gonna be in my top favourites of the year!! it's an Australian answer to Yellowjackets by way of This Is The End 2013 which might not be everyone's cup of tea but it sure is mine!! The cast of women (especially Blak comedian queen Steph Tisdel) are so funny and fantastic, the premise and execution is so deliciously chaotic and fresh, I LOVED all the Aus music/00s nostalgia needle drops, some of the twists had me genuinely GASPING, and honestly it's so nice to watch an Australian piece of media made for ppl my age specifically. my only critique is that it coulda been gayer, but it's such a bloody good time anyway. a lovely insane thoughtful show about how high school is a uniquely shit trauma for everyone that we carry with us forever even if we'd like to think we don't. Can't reccomend enough. Content warning for discussions of suicide, CSA and going to a catholic girls school for anyone who might watch ❤️

[lolsonic-idk-man]

Talk to Me: part 3

I'VE FINALLY DONE IT! like a week ago

Part 1, Part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6

It has around 3650 words so definitely the shortest chapter. Anyway, I've made my sister cry and I have some trigger warnings :D

TW: Suicidal idealization, Attempted self-harm, panic attacks.

How was Nightmare meant to feel?

Dream was crying, wailing the following day, sometimes sobbing words of discouragement to himself.

Nightmare would normally relish the idea of hearing Dream suffer, but…

No. Maybe the horrible turning in his chest was because he hadn't gotten the chance to see Dream's suffering. Yes, that had to be it, he wanted the true satisfaction of seeing Dream's suffering, not just hearing it.

Sci would more likely than not have some cameras that would do, somewhere in his lab. He would be sending Dust to pick up at least ten, he has had quite enough of Sci for a month.

In the meanwhile he and the rest of his men would survey Dream's hiding place after he made his return to the Omega Timeline.

Nightmare knew that Dream's place was probably massive,(Why wouldn't Dream pamper himself? He's the oh-so-loved guardian of positivity.) It was going to take a time to properly comb his house.

The sooner the better he supposed.

A quick study of the tracker's precise location before it went offline was all Nightmare needed for a portal of swirling negativity to open in front of him.

" So this is where the banana comes to be alone huh? " Nightmare's right hand said as they entered the small apartment. " Would have thought he would choose somewhere nicer, ya know, being the Guardian and all. " 

Horror granted an affirmative to Killer's note.

The apartment had only one room and a tiny bathroom that sat right next to an even smaller closet with three sets of Dream's usual drapings hanging and black strapless jumpsuits folded on the ground. A twin-sized mattress lay on the ground opposite the closet. A counter, sink, mirror that could be opened, and cupboard sat on the same wall as the door, facing the end of the mattress. 

Frankly, the worst part had to be the smell of mold that had wrenched itself into everything. (How did Dream not reak of mold? HE'S SLEPT HERE.)

Was this what Dream had let himself fall into? Did he truly live in such squalor? He came here to cry? Pity himself? Hide.

Didn't matter. All this did was make Nightmare's life easier. He could ambush Dream here, watch to find more weaknesses of his.

See? Nightmare could work with this. It's not like he cared about Dream's well-being, and it's not like Dream cared for him, regardless of the lies he spewed during their battles.

He supposed the only problem with this was that there were very few places a camera could go without being noticed, if any at all. He could always hope that Sci would come in with a somehow perfect device for the situation.

Actually, who needs hope, it's Sci, he always has something.

On the topic of the coffee addict and cameras, he should probably get Dust before he agrees to be a test dummy for one of Sci's experiments.

A portal grew from the shadows as Nightmare instructed his boys, " Find somewhere to place video equipment, I will retrieve them and Dust. " He walked through the swirling negativity as he finished.

Fuck, he was too late.

Dust was seated in a cheap office with one of his arms strapped to a metal table by him as he scrolled through his phone with his other hand, with Sci ready to inject Dust's arm with some unknown subsistence.

Nightmare's tentacles were quick to yank the needle out of Sci's hands grabbing his attention, " What was that for!? "

" You were about to inject my subordinate with something, and for all I knew it could kill him. " Nightmare snarled

" Oh please like I'd give him something like that, " Sci rolled his eye-lights. " It's just enough amino amides to knock out his ulna and radius so that I can get a proper sample. "

" And what do you plan on doing with it? " Nightmare crossed his arms, his tentacles twitching like a cat's tail.

" Figure out the density of magic that makes up his body. "

" Why would you want to know this? "

" Don't know, " Sci shrugged. " Thought it'd be interesting. Maybe useful in a medical field of some sort. "

" How large would this sample be? "

The scientist turned his head back to Dust's arm and studied it for a moment. He placed his hand on its side like a knife at the start of Dust's forearm, turned back to Nightmare, and shrugged.

" No, you can't have Dust's forearm. " Was he going to have to scold Sci like a child?

" Why not? He agreed to it. "

" I am his guardian, and I will not be giving you my consent. " Nightmare growled.

" So you admit you see us like your kids? " Dust piped up, still scrolling through his phone.

" I never said such a thing. "

" You said you're our guardian. "

" That is my title, and with how I have to look after you all I may as well be. "

" So you admit being like a father figure? "

" Do not put words in my mouth Dust. "

" I'm telling the Horror and Killer. "

" You will not. "

" Too late. "

The Guardian of Negativity rubbed the rig of his nasal cavity and groaned, already done with the next week. " We’re setting up so get your duff off that chair and grab the supplies. "

Dust shrugged and waited for Sci to finish grumbling about how Nightmare couldn't understand as he removed the straps holding his arm down and handed him the box with all of the supplies.

With the cameras in hand, Nightmare pulled Dust through the still-open cut in reality back to Dream's run-down apartment. Nightmare would not adjust to seeing that this was the type of person he hated so.

" Have you figured out where to place them Killer? "

" Cours' Boss, " His right hand gestured to a corner of the mostly empty closet, and the now open cupboard that only had a cup and plate. " And we could tempt underneath the mattress, but I don't think any of us want to touch it. Don't know what's growing on that… Maybe Horror would! "

A firm slap to the back of his skull that made him wobble and a growl from Horror was the only thing he got from the statement.

" Well damn, okay, just a growl would have been fine, " He turned to Horror in fake annoyance. " Who am I kiddin', it was well deserved. BUT! Onto more pressing matters, " Killer turned to stare Nightmare down with his non-existent eye-lights. " You admitted to being the fatherly figure none of us had/remember having? "

" No. "

" HE DIDN'T STAB ME! WE HAVE A CONFIRMED FATHER FIGURE! "

Oh for fucks sake.

~~~~🌕~~~~

Luckily after his subordinate's celebration, the rest of the setup went without a hitch. The cameras were smaller than they had thought, making it easier to hide them, and considering how little space there was, it was quick.

Dream didn't return to his hole that day or the day after, he came back after the Bad Sanses next supply run.

" It's fine Dream, you're fine, he says it every time, nothing has changed, nothing has changed, nothing. Has. Changed. " Dream was leaning over the sink staring at his reflection. " And… it won't ever change… he'll always hate me. " Dream looked like he was slowly reaching a tipping point.

" Did he always hate me? Was I just that terrible of a brother? How many times have I asked myself that, far more than I should have that's for sure. " Tears flow from his eye sockets. " He may as well have done it out of spite. I wish I could tell myself how wrong I am, how he wouldn't have done it just because he hates me, b- but it's clear that I never knew him. " A smile that didn't match his quivering eye-lights tightened its thread.

" Why can't I let go? "

The dim glow of Dream's tears fell in silence, filling the sink's shitty plumbing.

What was the sting in Nightmare's chest? Why wouldn't it go away!?

Why did his anger only make it worse?

Dream ended up sleeping on the mold-ridden mattress that night and arose with dark bags that challenged Nightmare's corruption underneath his sockets.

He struggled to even sit up and used the wall to force himself to stand so that he could wobble his mostly asleep legs to the mirror and open it.

Inside were a few bottles and pellets of white creams or compacted dust, Dreamed reached for one of them without thinking and applied it underneath his eye sockets in an attempt to hide the bags that had formed.

Once finished he placed it back, closed the mirror, and looked himself in the socket.

Why were Dream's eye-lights so dim? So dull. He looked so tired like he had pulled three all-nighters and run a marathon every day. Where was the blinding light that Nightmare was forced to adjust to so that he could fight him?

Dream let out a shaky breath after a few moments and attempted to sew on a smile, only for the stitching to be wired. " Come on Dream, you've been doing this for the past… all, your life… " His eye-lights dimmed as he sank into thought.

" NO! No, no. New idea, I stop thinking and get back to smiling, go to the Omega Timeline, and act like I never came here! " A strained smile forced its way to Dream's face. " yeah… I never went through that… "

Dream stayed quiet, still trying to make his smile seem natural and forcing his eye-lights to be brighter before opening the bathroom door and walking into a world that was not there before.

Well now Nightmare knew how people got into the Omega Timeline, but it probably wasn't that simple.

Anger swirled in Nightmare. At whom? He didn't know. But it didn't matter his frustration would just be let loose whenever he deemed the positive side of the spectrum grows too large.

To which it did.

Dream had barely gotten the word " brother " out of his teeth and Nightmare lashed out. His tentacles were lanced with the intent to kill and his words to scar.

And it seems that his words succeeded. The Guardian of Positivity entered his tattered apartment a little more than an hour later and immediately fell to the ground, pulling his legs to his chest and burying his skull in them. His breathing started to quicken and become strained as he started to choke on his sobs.

" I'm a moron. I'm stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! " Dream started to murmur into his arms that curled around him. " I'm a selfish prick! I'm useless! So useless and so fucking dumb! I'm an asshole! He said so many times before! He's not my brother! He's not my brother, he's not my brother, not my brother, not my brother, not my brother, he's not, he's not, HE'S NOT! " A few ragged breaths, " I lost him a long time ago, I lost the right to call him my brother when I ran away like the useless selfish asshole I am. I just stood there, I just watched, I JUST FUCKING WATCHED. I ran away, I ran away from him, I ran away from everything instead of facing it like I'm supposed to. I let them hurt him when I was supposed to protect him because I'm useless, useless, useless useless useless! And I had the guts to cry about being overworked! I didn't work enough! The villagers were angry because I couldn't do enough! It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault, my fault, my fault… "

He continued the loop for a few more minutes, slowing down till the only sound left in the room was the once-a-while hick in his breath as he slowly went limp, falling into sleep in the same spot on the floor that he started.

The black apple in Nightmare's chest stung. It wanted to go to its twin and comfort it, but it also wanted to hide. Run away from the pain that he caused.

But he didn't know why.

Normally his soul would sing to the idea of anyone's misery and especially loud at the idea of his brother's. After all, Dream neglected them for the villagers.

But Dream blamed everything on himself. Nightmare didn't even blame Dream that much. He couldn't blame Dream for the villagers' actions. They were not his.

In the past, he wanted to and did. The only reason he didn't now, was because his boys had questioned why he blamed Dream for what the villagers had done. (They also jammed the fact that Nightmare was much younger at the time and was no longer allowed to call his past form weak. BUT IT WAS!)

He admitted that he was a terrible sibling at least. He wasn't. So far that was one of the only good things to come from this venture, and with how it was going there was no point in having his boys waste their time watching this with him. He didn't want them to see his weakness.

Dream came back multiple times while Nightmare planned the next attack. Nothing new was said in his brother's latest cries for peace, the same guilty pleas as before. The only thing that was new were the stings of guilt from his soul and how they got worse every time he saw Dream's dim eye-lights.

His men had also grown worried for him as he locked himself in a room to watch and listen to his brother, but today was the first time any of them said anything.

" … Nightmare? " Horror was the first one to say anything.

" Is there something you need, boys? " The Guardian of Negativity looked up from his latest draft of a deal that should get them some new chemicals for Dust to play with and sell to Sci.

Killer, Dust, and Horror stood in the opened door of his office, each with varying levels of concern. " Not much, " his right hand continued. " Just wondering if you're okay, ya know, considering the Dream situation. "

Nightmare sighed knowing fully well that was what the question was going to be. " I am fine, just struggling to figure out what to do with the information we have. "

" Yeah, figuring out that you still care for someone is hard lol. "

" What did you say, Killer? " Nightmare's eye-light stared him down.

The sadist looked over to his coworkers, " See told you he hadn't figured it out! "

" Killer, what is the meaning of this? "

Killer chuckled a little, " Come on Boss, no one looks at someone who they say they hate having a panic attack so uncomfortable unless they cared to some extent~ "

" Out. "

A kackle, " Mmmkay, see ya Boss. "

That was a concept that Nightmare did not like. He had spent centuries with a hatred of Dream. How in all of the world could he care for him?

The statement that he hated oh so ended up being what he couldn't stop thinking about. Even during his latest battle with Dream. He was silent. Dream made a few attempts to talk to him, not once calling him brother, why did that hurt? All failed.

In all honesty, Nightmare was barely paying any mind to the fight, it was still in debate. And it seemed that his turmoil only stirred Dream's own.

" He didn't say anything… " Dream stood stunned and confused, to say the least. " Is that good? N-no, it can't be good, he was so angry last time. Is he planning something big? " He let out a singular huff of air. " Of course, he is, he always has something ready. But why was he so quiet? Was he trying to shut me up? That wouldn't be shocking, I doubt he's ever enjoyed listening to me blabber about things, even then. So what!? " Dream rubbed his face. " Am I just not worth talking to… Of course, I'm not worth talking to. When have I ever been? " He groaned, walked to his bed, and sat in the corner with his head hidden in his legs as he continued to question Nightmare's intentions.

Why? Why does it hurt Nightmare so? Why does Dream thinking he is only capable of causing pain, hurt his soul? Why in the name of Toby Fox would he care what Dream thought about him? Why would he care at all!?

Why does he want to hate the one being that has done nothing wrong to him? Why did he hurt Dream? Why did attempt to injure his brother? 

Why did Dream still care for him? Nightmare had done nothing but torture him since he had been freed of his stone prison. What was wrong with Dream!? Maybe something was wrong with Nightmare?

Dream definitely had something wrong with him, (Didn't everyone in this multiverse?) He returned to the small apartment a few days later with a small purple cupcake with a candle. He placed it on the tiny counter and opened the middle drawer, hesitating before reaching in, grabbing a lighter, and placing it by the cupcake with his hand still around it.

He stared the dessert down, letting out a sigh as his eyebrow creased. " It's gonna be seven years tomorrow. Well, I guess 507 years. It doesn't feel like that though. It doesn't even feel like one… " Letting go of the lighter Dream makes his way to his bed and sits in the corner. " I should be 19 tomorrow, not 507. "

How did Nightmare forget such a thing? The following day was the day Nightmare gained his freedom, the day the villagers regretted their actions, the day Dream was trapped in stone, the day Dream was freed from stone, and the day they were created.

" What are you going to do tomorrow? What big event is going to push the balance to its limit this time? "

Silence.

" Why am I even doing this? Why would you want me to celebrate your birthday? " 

Something shattered.

Dream's skull wiped to the source of the sound, the bathroom. Removing himself from his mold-ridden mattress and into the room of origin.

Glass was scattered across the room, when Dream opened the door – Yes, Nightmare had the decency to let his brother have the privacy of the bathroom. – A rock sat in the walk-in shower. Dream looked up at the small foggy window above the shower head that was now forever open.

" O-oh… " Dream's skull dropped. " Well, I guess that answers that… "

He sighs, " Why am I still doing this? Why am I doing any of this!? Why am I still fighting Nightmare!? Why am I trying to make sure the multiverse stays balanced when I couldn't even take care of a single village!? Or Protect my brother! I was the worst choice for this fucking job, also I never asked for it universe! " 

Dream grabbed his golden cerite off his head and threw it across the room hitting the mirror, making glass spray all around the small apartment. " I never wanted to be your damned Guardian of Positivity! I just wanted to sit under a damn tree and listen to my brother! " Tears prick out of the corners of his eye-sockets as he screamed angrily at the multiverse. " Why can't I have that!? My entire life has been centered around making everyone else happy! But I can't be?

" I could've been a normal person! Nightmare could've been normal! No one would've hurt him, neither of us would have been so stressed, we could have just been happy!

" I could just stop, what would you think of that universe!? Mmmm? Mmmm? What would you do then? What would you do if I stopped working!? Mmmmm!? " A few heavy breaths. " I could… I could stop… I could just quit. " A crooked smile crawled onto Dream's face. " The multiverse would be thrown into chaos, but who cares? I could be selfish for once! Would it be that selfish though? The multiverse would probably be better off if someone else took the responsibility, and Nightmare would like that! He wouldn't have to put up with me anymore! And I won't have to do anything anymore! "

Dream rushed to the counter where he left the cupcake and opened the same drow that he got the lighter from, but this time pulling out a box cutter.

Was he?

His brother pulled out his soul, staring down at it wordlessly as he held the box cutter.

The once soft golden glow his soul held was gone, in the apple's stead was a brown rotting mush of what should be.

Had Nightmare pushed Dream to this?

He did, didn't he? Nightmare had done nothing but torture, someone who had tried their best for everyone, had their childhood stripped away from them, had a larger responsibility than anyone should bear thrown at them when they were young, and his brother.

Dream had done nothing but try to understand, try to fix whatever the problem was, and Nightmare only pushed him away and blamed him for feeling scared of his abusers.

A sound pulled Nightmare from his realization. 

" No…  " Dream pushed his rotting soul back into his ribs. " I can wait till tomorrow. That way it's a birthday present for both of us, I can be free and he can do it himself. Like he's always wanted. It should be easy enough, I can slow down a bit. Maybe I'll trip. I've been fairly tired lately after all. "

Nightmare's original plan for their birthday was to attack the Omega Timeline, hence why he was trying to find a way in. Now though it was definitely too late to attempt that and Nightmare had lost the will to after all he'd seen.

But he was going to have to do something, or Dream would probably kill himself.

[cotillion-the-rope]

Shade Lord Ghost Drabbles: Suspected

Summary: How would the poison get administered, by like a "gift" of food or something?

[A/N] This is a sequel to chapter/drabble 41.

~

The feast had failed but that was fine, Mari could try again. He waited a few days, pretending to be merely a follower of the Shade Lord’s, just in case he’d accidentally attracted suspicion from it or any of its true followers. Probably he hadn’t but it never hurt to be careful. Once he was sure he had everyone fooled though he set his next plan into action.

Cooking was the hardest part of it. He wasn’t usually hired for these kinds of jobs. Not that he’d never assassinated a god before but it was always minor gods, ones that it was fairly easy to get close enough to that sticking them with a tiny poison needle was feasible. Here, getting that close didn’t seem particularly wise if one didn’t intend it to be a suicide mission.

It took him three tries before he had a cauldron of stew that looked and smelled edible, maybe even a little good. Inserting the poison changed the colour a bit but not in away that made it look bad. Getting it into what seemed to be the Shade Lord’s main temple was easier said than done but with a little bit work and some help from a couple larger bugs, Mari managed.

The head of the temple was a large bug of a sort Mari had never seen before. Under different circumstance he might’ve been tempted to flirt with her as the gold of her carapace was alluring even in the darkened temple.

“Greetings, m’lady,” he said as he approached her, bowing slightly upon reaching her. “I bring a gift of stew for the Shade Lord for it blessed us with a feast several days ago. Its generosity moved and inspired me into making something for them. In a golden pot as befits the Shade Lord’s glorious station.” And to increase the chances that it would be interested.

The priestess, Seeker as many of the others had referred to her as when talking about her, looked unmoved. “The Shade Lord does not accept gifts and does not require food.”

“What kind of god doesn’t accept gifts?” Perhaps Mari shouldn’t have said that thought out loud but it was just utterly preposterous. Gods were known for being vain, the more powerful, the more vain, they liked being given things, especially shiny things.

“The Shade Lord.”

“Why?”

“It is not our place to question. Thou art encouraged to share thine gift with the temple folk. Food is always appreciated.”

Mari could argue, insist it go to the Shade Lord anyway but… it was clearly onto the idea that someone was trying to poison it. Why else would it instruct its head followers to deny gifts? How it had figured out was a mystery but gods were gods for a reason. All Mari could do was hope that he wasn’t suspected.

“Very well. I shall do that.” More like arrange for the stew to accidentally get spilled all over the ground and then as soon as he could, discretely flee Hallownest. Since the Shade Lord clearly knew someone was trying to poison it, there was no way it was happening. And if Mari continued to try, if he wasn’t already known as the would be culprit, he would be soon. He was done pushing his luck.

[bonefall]

Unpopular opinion but I absolutely love Onestar. Like, he’s such a goddamn slightly insecure coward and it’s so fucking interesting. A leader who refuses help out of pride and accidentally orchestrates his own downfall. Earlier I saw a post made by someone (I forgot their user) that said Onestar’s motivation to help the clans and reveal the truth about Darktail should of been portrayed as more of a cowardly last attempt move AND I AGREE.

Following this statement above, do you have any plans for changing Onestar? Like the post I mentioned earlier I think has an absolutely amazing idea. Like changing his motivations for Darktail in the Bonefall Rewrite does fit the theme a lot better than “sudden change of heart”

Uhhh more like "CORRECT" opinion?

I think the post you're thinking of is this one by @cloudblaze who has a very big brain and I respect immensely

Onestar's AMAZING! Absolutely one of my favorite antagonists in the series. I love characters who are wrong in interesting ways and aren't always 'villainous.' I love characters who are the root of their own problems, whose archenemy is themselves.

I want him and Firestar to have a pointless battle-to-the-death pissing contest that Onestar demands, and he loses one of his 9 lives for no good reason. The Erins don't play around with the 9 lives nearly enough! Give me more blustering, useless displays of machismo! I am smashing two littlest petshop figures together.

So, I don't plan to 'change' him very much. Just make some stuff more consistent.

And he also gets featured much more in AVoS because of the POV change.

Bonefall AVoS

Breezepelt is a new major POV of AVoS. This is a WindClan and ShadowClan-centric arc. No shade to Twigbranch and Alderheart, but AVoS was NOT their story to tell.

It's an arc about mistakes, making up for them, and the concept of redemption.

It's also one of the hardest arcs I have to rewrite and I'm trying to thread a needle about The Kin, because I feel that as they were in-canon, they tell a pro-xenophobic story. It's very, very important to me that I fix that, while still allowing The Kin to be a malicious group. Read about it over here and I also tag it with #Bonefall AVoS if you'd like to see the ideas actively developing over conversations

So... anyway, that big bullet aside,

Onestar and Breezepelt are very important characters. There is a parallel between Onestar and Darktail, and Crowfeather and Breezepelt. By the end of this arc, Onestar comes to have a REAL reckoning with how he has a LOT of blame for this situation, Breezepelt feels like he's in such a deep pit of sin he'll never crawl out, and the younger generation is still paying for the mistakes of their forebears.

Drowning Darktail in the lake was originally Breezepelt's idea. I have some notes for the scene here, and I'm quite proud of the idea honestly, but CW for suicidal intent. It's the turning point where Onestar decides he can't let someone else pay for what he's done.

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Serious Conversation

After my worst flare in history, I have a talk with my favorite medical expert.

Trigger warning: suicidal ideation due to chronic illness

It's a few hours later, and I'm back to roughly 50%. The pain is still there, but thankfully, so is my Doctor. He's holding me close. My head is on his shoulder, eyes half closed.

"You look a little more like yourself, but you're not there yet my dear. Is there anything I can do to aid your recovery?"

"Honestly, you're doing a great job so far. But... I'm not sure I won't do something stupid next time, like try hugging 173. The pain is so bad, it's hard to not want to end it some days. Abel says he has some of the same issues, he just takes it out on everyone else. I can get it, but I know it won't help. Sadly, very little does."

"I assume you have told the medical staff, yes?"

"And swore them to additional secrecy beyond HIPPA. Yeah. I'm talking to Dr. Glass, taking the meds, trying to cope... but it can be too much. Would you help me develop a plan for next time? If this happens again, I need to be ready."

"Just to be clear... are you sure of what you want?"

"Yeah, I have my reason to not go, I just need help staying, as it were. There's little hope I'll be cured, but maybe I need better strategies to manage."

"I won't insult you by suggesting the same things everyone always does. However, it might be beneficial to find distractions to your pain. I hear you and 053 are close. Excellent. Social connections are important in maintaining morale. A support group may be invaluable. I'm also pleased to hear both 076-2 and 073 are on your side. Family will be a blessing in this case, I know from reputation 076-2 would do anything for his sisters, and 073 knows a great deal about chronic pain. I suggest enlisting their aid."

"Done. Next on the list?"

"Hobbies. Preferably ones less... energetic than training."

"So, put down the stun baton, pick back up the sketchpad? I can agree there."

"I also suggest you also partake in the sitewide pastime of napping. I will of course be willing to assist you."

"Hopefully, you and I are on the same wavelength? No needles, maybe just cuddling?"

"Indeed. Not that I require much of an excuse to want you close to me, as you have a magnetic attraction I cannot resist." He presses his mask to the top of my head, and sighs. "On an unrelated topic... is that a new perfume? I am going to have a harder time keeping my hands off you if you keep wearing it."

"I'll have to order the rest of the batch then." I squeeze him slightly closer. "I'm glad you approve. So, rest and relaxation. Wonder how big a batch of cupcakes it would take 343 for a couple's trip to Calais, my mom's side of the family have a château there."

"I have not seen Calais in ages, please don't tempt me or I might encourage the idea."

"As you wish, my love. Back on topic, any other tips?"

"Ask for a hot tub. Trust me, warm water will relax your muscles."

"And sharing the tub with you will relax them more. Until then, bubble baths?"

"With extra bubbles. Capital idea."

"Going to assume alcohol is not advised, at least not in quantity?"

"Afraid so."

"Not big on drinking anyway."

We finish the plan, and as we do, I have to suppress a yawn. Back to bed I go, Doctor's orders. Like I'd disobey him, not when he's embracing me like I'm the most precious thing to him. Yeah, despite the flare kicking my ass, I am the luckiest woman in the whole damn Foundation. I got a family that I can count on, and the best man I could ask for. I could look for more signs, but right now that's more than enough.

[selamat-linting]

last night was a blast! read through the last legs of act 5 oart 2 and started plowing through everything so now im... somewhere after act 6 intermission 1. as usual some thoughts :

-cascade. holy fucking shit CASCADE. i thought the doc scratch panels bit was cool so this blew my fucking tits off (alas it grew back) but i have no idea what the fcuk is going on. i do not have the fandom to help me speculatE. ARGGHHHHH. even everymanhybrid is more digestible than homestuck and thats saying something!!!

but i'll try to parse things. one at a time.

-EVERYONE WENT GOD MODE??

okay okay so. the plan is,

1) john to retrieve the tumor which would blow up the sun

2) so dave would pilot the course and sent it to the green sun and blow it up. this is the plan rose cooked up after consulted doc scratch and the horrorterrors. wait why would they do that? If they want to kill jack they could just use the scratch right?

4) oh wait i remember. The scratch is to reset the universe. The tumor is to act as a homing beacon for the kids to meet up and plan whats next. also jack was kind of omnipotent so the scratch might not even be enough.

5) meanwhile the tumor was prepared, the scratch, found in dave's lava planet, is meant to be scratched by either john or dave using rose's knitting needles

6) meanwhile jade is doing genesis frog breeding, and she consulted with her denizen after a discussion with kanaya. and she found out something that could have been a reason why their universe is so messed up. jade was also given a tip from her denizen echidna of a way to leave the scratched universe and stay alive, but on the condition that her and her planets are brought along.

7) after this is revealed, karkat wails in regret after realizing that he unknowingly gave cancer to the universe. gamzee who have somehow become corrupted claims that it was his doing that sabotaged karkat and kanaya's frog breeding to a dave in the past

8) while jade is juggling the responsibility of trying to do frog breeding even as the end of the world is approaching + trying to save the denizens and their people + keeping bec noir under control, she gets murdered by one of the exiles john sent to give the tumor over a misunderstanding

9) while all of that is happening, the great terezi and vriska showdown happens, and karkat singlehandedly pacified a rampaging gamzee by pats and kisses like its an episode of gumball and darwin. they are now moirails that are off the rails. a knocked out sollux is too busy talking with aradia over the dream bubbles. because a gemini's special Like That™ (GEMINIS REPRESENT)

10) current surviving troll count : terezi, karkat, gamzee, kanaya, sollux, aradia. sollux dies to pilot their hideout to the green sun so theyd get a head start to go to the new session

11) anyway, back to the beta kids. jade is dying. an angry bec noir flies her over so she could die in her quest bed. using the time capsule, an angry bec traveled to the exile's future timeline and killed everyone. he also uses his omnipotence as a first guardian to spread the cancer on the universe, the red miles, causing its destruction. he donuted my boy WV. and so to avenge everyone and defend herself, PM becomes the new white queen and she gets bec noir's powers too.

12) while jade is taking her time dying from the stab wound, the derse kids got the tumor and is trying to pilot it to the green sun on a suicide mission. dave was supposed to do it, but rose knocked him out so she could do it alone. yet he still followed her, and they both end up on the same ship and found their quest bed, and the realization of their imminent death finally sinks in.

13) as the universe is imploding on itself, they found out a strange machine. The machine shows two universes, the left out remains of alternia and earth. apparently it all has been a trick all along from doc scratch. The tumor, piloted to a course between universes because its heading to the green sun, caused the destruction of the two universes and subsequently, the death of rose and dave. But it does not destroy the sun. So, the trolls arrived at a not exploding sun, and both the derse kids went god tier.

14) meanwhile, before dave and rose's epic showdown, jade went god mode too, fuses with her sprite, and found out a way to escape the doomed universe to the new session. her new powers of omnipotence made her capable of saving all of the planets and its denizens and brought them along with her on the ride to the new session. she brought john along as well, after he fully completes the scratch

15) so. the gang, they finally met up. sort of. theyre heading to the new session and it would took them three years to arrive. dead sollux decides to go back to his dead friends in the dream bubble. aradia, as the maid of time, has some shit to do so she had to leave as well. wv is dying but there might be a way to save him (THANK GOD) rose and kanaya continued making heart eyes at each other but this time its even worse since they do it in person. karkat suffers out of his own hubris and wishes he was dead.

16) with the universe reset and destroyed, it brings the arrival of lord english from doc scratch's corpse. so, there is no guarantee this new universe is safe since a demon presides in it. The gang plans to arrive in the new session and defeat lord english in person.

Is that it? Is that all? There was a lot of information and it was pretty hard to follow. If im not distracted by the art im distracted by the music. For real the music is very very good. Its crazy that homestuck starts out from silly chiptune music and evolves into epic bangers like cascade. And the art, my god. they all look so anime. the faces are beautifully expressive. i love how everyone's clothes design gets an upgrade and even more details in that style. its appropriate for the gravity of the situation. also shout out for the backgrounds. i always loved the hyperrealistic images but the strategic lighting on this one is great.

and i understand why the fandom are insane about them. like, my current type nowadays is old and weird looking guys but i just knew teen me would have realized he's bisexual much earlier if she sees anime karkat and kanaya's cascade design at the tender age of thirteen.

-ANYWAY. Holy fucking shit! can we talk about jade? I dont care. WE'LL TALK ABOUT JADE. i knew she had the potential man. i knew it. she literally kickstarted the rescue mission of the citizens and save john and helped diagnose the problem of their universe and- SHE'S AWESOME. SHE'S THE BEST!!! she's so op and amazing and im taking her to those super expensive haagen daz ice cream because she's powerful and she cares about the citizens on the planets just as she cares for her friends and she stays positive despite the trolls badgering. i hope she had a great three years befriending everyone and catching up on stuff with davesprite and john :) she's the coolest

-also, wow. must have been weird being davesprite. you spent three months with your half sister trying to do the impossible, went back in time to see everything kickstarted to fruition while you get sidelined after doing the epic duel of all time with your brother against an omnipotent assasin. you saw him die, and then youre just kinda there chilling and giving tips for alpha dave and occasionally consoling jadesprite. and then she disappears, and you see her save everyone's ass while youre just sitting there and now you didnt get to die. you are going to spend three years becoming well acquainted to approximately a million people + jade and john. also your alt self went god mode but somehow you didnt fuse with him.

-and speaking of doc scratch. jeez. the reveal that the virus from the troll pov chapters is the one that bring lord english in is fuckin insane. we already know he and his lackey doc scratch was subtly manipulating all of the trolls from either direct manipulation of subconcious dream fuckuppery. the reveal that a karkat suffers gag was actually a doc scratch plot and the transformation of his dead body. FUCK.

yknow, his thing with little girls. i really thought it was one of those fucked up shit that are glossed over that hussie does, like the slurs. there is this phenomenon in media of chivalrous pervert whose sexual harrasment are played off as gags or not too important to his standing as a person because in the end they actually respects woman in a way that matters or do a lot of good. i see this a lot in ecchi anime and modern edgy sf lit. and personally i find it fucking stupid and unrealistic. why is every single black and grey morality hard sf stories had to make their token evil teammate a sexual abuser like COME THE FUCK ON. there are better crimes to use that will lead your fandom to less discourse and less out and proud misogynists. so i guess it suprises me that doc scratch's weird thing with little girls arent played as just a joke and his "helpful tips" are actually his way to manipulate the kids while toying with them. its a pleasant surprise i suppose?

i do feel bad for aradia's ancestors though. her life must be rough. did she really die getting murdered by feferi's ancestor? or is she somewhere else right now? the trolls ancestors are reallly fucking me up. but mostly karkat. he really is troll jesus! He's the father, son, and the holy spirit all at once. what the fuck-

-and now, lets go to the new session. jake, roxy, dirk, and jane. we're off to a great start with this au. okay maybe i should stop here and continue on another post. LOL.

[thesickestgirl]

it’s almost been a week. idk. i don’t really have anything to say but i do wanna write for my therapist. i wanna be able to tell her about how things went while we weren’t meeting.

ummm idk. i’ve been home a lot. i’ve cleaned my room a bit. it’s still messy and my closet is still like a clothing bomb went off in there.

honestly i feel awful right now. i guess the past few days. i’ve been distracting myself but i do always end up feeling the same- suicidal. i wish i was never born. i’ve been having a lot more issues with the way i look lately. i hate myself so much. i want to overdose. i want to die. because even if i was pretty, or even if i was rich, or both maybe, i still wouldn’t want to live. there’s no point to it. i just want to kill myself so bad.

i guess the reasons i haven’t killed myself are because im so scared of dying, and also because i’ll feel bad for the people who have to deal with that after it happens. i wish i could just go somewhere far where nobody would ever find me and just overdose. i know it would be an awful experience because i did have a serious overdose once and it felt awful. i guess the most painful thing, though, was the needles in the emergency room, and if im just out in a lonely field dying alone with no phone then i dont think needles will be a problem.

this is not a threat or a plan. it’s just what i wish i could do. well like, realistically what i wish i could do. the real thing i want to do though is just die. i want to go to sleep and never wake up.

i feel like existence is so meaningless. i just don’t know why im even alive. i don’t want to be, and i wish i wasnt. but im still here. why? it’s because im a pussy.

i’m pretty sure that nothing is real anyway, and in the grand scheme of things, me dying doesn’t change the world at all, if this is real or not, me dying won’t matter. maybe to the people who say they love me but it’s not like the united states president is going to talk about me or be sad that i’ve killed myself. i just wish i was never fucking born.

i don’t understand why my life is so hard for me to live every day when i’ve had to so easy.

[scarycranegame]

To be honest, s.odapack just reminds me of S.unflower - a ship between S.unny and B.asil from hit indie psychological game O.mori, which is, funnily enough, adored by many antis, even though that game has themes such as: depression, guilt, murder (literally S.unny accidentally murders his own sister - M.ari and B.asil faked it as suicide), suicide (not only what I told you, but also there are endings, where either S.unny or B.asil, or both of them, die from that), mental illnesses (such as dissociate amnesia [from what I saw], obsessive behaviour [from B.asil] and more). I'm just surprised antis do love this game, even when its creator - O.mocat, is literally a proshipper and the manga artist is a shotacon, one of us!

What I'm trying to tell you, is that B.asil and S.unny would literally be traumabonded (well, they already are), and would be abusive to each other (well, it did happen in the game, because B.asil literally stabbed S.unny's eye during the S.unny R.oute), unless they would have years, YEARS of therapy, but noo, antis see them as "wholesome uwu gay boys", and it is... It is irritating me, how s.odapack is literally just diet S.unlower - both ships are about two canonically men, who are traumatised from the event and both hurt each other (not to mention B.ryce was mean to L.iam in one of the episodes, and also L.iam was mean to B.ryce), however antis portray both ships as "wholesome uwu softgay boys".

About Ableism in the O.SC, I feel like it was always there, since the very beginning - just look at how T.D was treated in early Beefy Die, how W.oody was treated as a joke, how L.eafy was also treated badly not only by writers, but also by fans, not to mention how in Animate Sanity B.omb was treated like a joke, how P.aper had the stereotypical "Evil Personality", and also maybe other moments, which I don't remember at all, and maybe there were more ableist moments in Beefy Die.

About fanfictions (this is based on replies written by stapliy), yes, I've noticed that a lot of Animate Sanity fanfics are... Ableism, that portray mental illnesses inaccurate, or even uses H.TF-like portrayal of mental illnesses (basically what I mean, is that someone, who is mentally ill is considered as "dangerous" [see: F.lippy and P.etunia]), involve lots of those protagonists (ex. T.T or F.an) murdering lots of people or experimenting, in T.est T.ube's case...

Oh, yeah, T.hinkin Skills and F.ear G.arden - literally two most well-known O.SC fanfics, that involve themes of mental illnesses, portrayed as something depraved! Well... Not accurate in F.ear Garden's case, because it was retconned (or planned? IDFK) as " Uwu demon, who forced P.in to murder all of those people), which could worked, if it was executed more properly... Ehhh...

Anyway, O.SC always had the problems with ableism, even when it was either unintentional or intentional (unintentional, because of J.NJ being kids back then, and kids aren't the brightest, intentional in cases such as those darkfics). Sometimes I'm even wondering if someone, who actually BOTHERED to write well-written darkfic would be praised... No, they wouldn't be praised, if the author would avoid adding gore, and just go with more darker topics, such as sexual abuse or mental illnesses (which are written well), because antis just love putting GORE and mental illnesses (portrayed as "dangerous people murdering people =( ).

It's annoying, literally.

And yes, yes I'm aware of those antis friends being fake friends, I'm fucking aware of that, however I'm just... I'm just worried, if I will ever find more proshippers within O.SC, like Stapliy or you... Yes, I'm in proshipper safe spaces for people within O.SC, but those are on d.iscord, not on T.umblr, and I'm allergic to T.witter.

At least in O.mori fandom I can find more proshippers, however in O.SC finding proshippers is like finding needle in a stock of... Shit. Literally.

~🍩💜

im gonna be honest anon i dont know shit about om.ori; tons of people keep recommending it to me and i keep forgetting to play it lol

but i agree with you abt s.odap.ack being misrepresented and the "uwu soft gaybois" thing being. really obnoxious in fandom (not in of itself, but because so many people force so many ships into this one singular box that there's essentially no room for anything else)

also tbh my issue with fe.ar g.arden (besides ableism and the demon retcon bullshit) is that it's just. so fucking boring. it feels like the actual plot kinda takes a backseat for all the author's "UWU GAY BABIEZ!!! ^W^" ships; and like. yeah okay. but if you wanna write about cute fluffy tooth rotting shippy bullshit then why didn't you just write a romance fic (i've still never read t.hinking sk.i.lls and i don't plan to lol) (also i dont think that the o.sc's ableism problem is because of anything j&j did, i think they're just like that because they're so lost in the victim complex sauce that they refuse to acknowledge that the way they generalize certain behavior patterns are harmful)

also the "darkfic with no murder" person you're mentioning is me lol, might i remind you that no one dies in my gb & yf fic. and i dont get shit for it because i dont take shit (and i have actually been praised several times for it; one of my fav fic authors labeled it a "fanfic holy grail" LMAO)

speaking of which. hey you don't have to swear at me. i've been able to find other o.sc proshippers on here surprisingly easily, but if you want a quick fix then go to one of those proship friend-finder blogs and send in an anonymous message asking for proship o.sc friends. it's as shrimple as that (also that analogy kinda falls flat because i think you'd be able to find a needle under those circumstances pretty easily)

[pr3ttyl1ps]

two steps forward and one step back

cw: suicide, death, depression | vent

these days i wonder when my lungs will fail me. i wonder when the smoke will overwhelm my body and turn me back into the dust i originated from. i feel like this has always been a feeling i’ve had my whole life.

i think most people would call this depression? i couldn’t say for sure.

but for pretty much my entire life, i’ve been waiting to die. i’ve been watching the clock tick as the days slip away from me. i’ll go through the motions to get me through each day, but no one can really understand how much i struggle to feel like any of what i do is worth anything because the same thought echoes through my brain: “i’m just gonna die anyway.”

i’ve tried to repurpose this statement over the years in order to try and live life to the fullest. life’s too short, so why not make the best of it? but at the end of the day, eventually it all boils down to the same doomsday feeling: life’s too short, so what’s the point in trying?

this line of thought has severely clouded my judgment. the truth is, there’s not much i can really do about it. i’ve just been trying to accommodate these feelings and work around them to make it work best for my life. it will be an eternal struggle, unfortunately, but there are ways i can hold myself off for at least a few more years.

despite dealing with this, i force myself to really take a step back to reflect on how far i’ve come. i planned to die at 18. here i am, about to turn 22, and i’m still kicking it as best i can. i recognize that it’s unfair to myself to downplay my growth as a person. who i was when i had a knife pointed at my chest that night in february of 2021 is not the same person i am today, sitting on the couch in april of 2024. i think this is why writing is so crucial to me, because sitting here rereading the line prior to this, it never hit me how short a timeline 2021-2024 really is. it feels like eons ago when it’s really only just 3 years. time works in such a silly way, and my growth has felt really rapid.

the idea of killing myself has resurfaced these past few months. i can trace it back to september. i held a knife to my chest again. i threw up. i laid in bed, shaking. i don’t remember what happened after that. that month was a blur. and the months after that. i think this month is the clearest my mind has been in a while. at least in the sense that i can actually hear myself thinking.

i don’t think i’ve ever really talked about how my brain functions when i’m at the lowest of the low; what i hear in my head when i feel like i want to end it all.

(it’ll be freeing to talk about it now. i feel safe talking about it here, knowing someone out there feels the same way i do. i’m screaming into a crowd of people that i’m not expecting a response from, i just want for someone to read this and understand themselves better or to just understand me.)

when i hit a point where the end of a knife is pointing back at me, you know what my brain hears? absolutely nothing. it’s white noise at best; a distant buzz; static. but my brain doesn’t only hear static in the moment i feel like completely altering my life. it had already been sounding that way for a while. nothing is coherent. it’s like when a swarm of bees fly past and all you can hear is one big giant sludge of buzzing. or when a car zooms past you and you can’t hear the engine, you just hear “vvvvvroom.” my brain can’t pinpoint one single thought. the noise my thoughts make eventually turn into a loud, incoherent, headache inducing, buzz. and attempting to pinpoint a single feeling from that mess just adds to the stress; trying to find a needle in a haystack. so when anyone asks me to at least try to figure out where the root of the problem is, i shut down. it’s too much work to dig in there.

it’s my own fault that i end up that way and no one else’s. i may not be able to afford therapy, but there are preventative measures i can take to regulate the commotion before it becomes unbearable. with the added stressors and responsibilities as i grow older, i find it’s hard to tend to my brain as often as i need to. there’s not much i can do about that. but i need to stop burdening myself by ignoring the fact that my brain is chemically imbalanced. i don’t like to admit that something’s wrong with me, but i think that’s a step i’ve been missing; accepting that this is the brain i’ve been dealt to live the rest of my life with.

i think for the past few years, i’ve been working on trying to assign the blame as to why my brain is the way it is. most of it goes to my dad. it’s fascinating to think about how impactful childhood events really have on your development. what really makes me mad is i’m left to deal with the consequences of his mistakes, and he doesn’t know it or understand. i’m afraid he never will, but that’s not up me is it haha?

i’ve come to accept that this is just it. there’s really no “fixing” it. just a matter of not letting it consume me; to tend to this harsh reality and not let the cyst get too big before it’s too late.

i thought about killing myself today.

it’s hard to admit out loud. it’s a voice that just won’t go away. maybe it’s not how i genuinely feel, but my brain has it’s own brain i guess? that’s really silly to say haha. but i say that to say it really comes out of nowhere; when i least expect it. i have the thought even when life feels like it’s going good. it blindsides me and that’s when i’m hit with a wave of depression. and it’s not one’s fault at all that i have the thought. it’s my own. the thought went away in about an hour. i just have to let it pass. therapy would be nice so i wouldn’t have to push it down. it would be nice to talk to someone about it. i don’t know. the internet is just beautiful in that way. like i said, i don’t expect anyone to respond or even read this whole thing. i just post it in the hopes it will land on someone’s eyes.

it’s hard to live life when you love it so much, but feel like you don’t deserve any ounce of the good that can come with it. thanks dad, i guess.

but i know life is so much bigger than me, and that i’m grateful to have been born to experience life’s most exciting and mundane beauties. i may feel like a waste, but to cut my life short would be an even bigger waste. i know that.

two steps forward and one step back as they say. i look forward to the next two steps i take.

[monochromatictoad]

Putting this under a read more, this is mostly just negative thoughts and venting. Tw: suicidal ideation, suicide, suicide attempts, depression, intrusive thoughts, addiction, maybe ED?

I always hear jokes or vents from people who are the oldest or middle child of the house, but as someone who was the youngest child, I wasn't given many options to succeed socially. I had pressure to be better than my older siblings and I was discouraged from doing things I loved to do. I know now just how much pressure my sisters were under, things only got worse when my brother couldn't handle everything anymore and killed himself. Two of my sisters also tried to kill themselves, only for their attempts to fail. I never actively tried when I was younger, but as an adult, I had to stop taking my migraine medication, because it's also an antidepressant and I found myself wanting to take more of it. I can't drink often, because I can drink an entire big bottle of wine and not be drunk. I only crave more. If you can't tell, addiction runs strong in my family. But I feel like shit because my sisters were stuck with my mother, because they were from her previous relationships, and weren't my father's. They got cheated out of childhood, while I still got some childhood with my dad, but never with my mom.

I thought school would be a safe space, or maybe my best friend at the time would understand..... But it didn't work like that. I had tried to write in elementary school, but my dad discouraged it. When I was in middle school, I tried to learn drawing, only for my friend to pick it up and be immediately better than me. So I tried to get back to writing, only for her to be better at that too. I tried different types of needle work, again, only for her to be better at it. I tried to get into jewelry making and coincidentally, she did too. Her was better than mine, so I stopped. Everything I tried to do, she did better. So I dropped my hobbies in high school, and stuck to reading. It didn't help that she was an only child and her parents had good paying jobs to get her some of the best materials for these hobbies. It didn't help that she would use me to edit her work, because she knew she could brag about it. I get discouraged easily because of it and that's why most of my old wips are permanently gone. It still affects me now. Our friendship started to falter in high school, mostly because she started to make plans with our other friends and never included me, so I started ignoring them altogether. She didn't like that, but I didn't care at that point. We made amends out of high school, and she even helped me get the job I work at! I was excited, and I got even more excited when she told me she was engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor! Then lockdown happened. I tried to keep up with them, but she apparently decided to change her mind on who would be her maid of honor, and blocked me.

What makes all of this hurt the most, is that I would be upset when my sisters made plans without me, or my cousins who were like siblings to me. I thought that once I was in high school, my friends would invite me to places. That only happened once, and it was with the friend I mentioned earlier. We got into an argument about weight and who could be considered a fat person. I was not considered a fat person because of how I hold my weight, even if I was almost 200lbs because of stress binging. My weight fluctuates between 160-190lbs, but I'm very curvy. Large clothes are too tight, and some Extra Large clothes are too loose. It made me feel like shit. That maybe I was too skinny to be considered a bigger person. She was a bigger girl and her parents were bigger people as well. So I apologized to her about it. This has only gotten worse because of my sister and her wife. They are both bigger women, and when I try to explain my body issues, they shut me down that my body is perfect and that I shouldn't be complaining about it. Anyways, I got completely sidetracked. Nowadays, my coworkers will make plans without me, and it shouldn't affect me so much. But.... It's the sheer amount of times that this has happened. One of my coworkers even planned a vacation with two others and left us short staffed. And they always do it on days where I work the next day, then get upset when I tell them, that if they would plan nights out on the day before my days off, then I would go with them. Anyways, my Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is at an all time high, and I feel like shit if I vent it. I feel like garbage currently and the sudden temperature drops aren't helping.