#— in a good cathartic sort of way but painful nonetheless — to remember what they felt like at all

[urlocallesbiab]

sorry to everyone who's been missing me/waiting for something from me, i've been slipping in and out of depressive fog for a week or two (and in general have experienced significantly worse depression than normal for a couple years, but that’s another story)

i long to get back, too; a lot of things to read and ideas to write and people to talk to. love y'all, take care

[nah-she-didnt]

Another Day

Slight tw: self harm, violence (nothing too graphic)

One day I will thoroughly proof read before I post, but not today!

--

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, you stupid cow. Come on, just a few more minutes. Hold it in, just hold it in a little while longer, alright? Can’t you just be a grown up for once in your life? Stop fucking crying!

Just twenty more meters and she’d be safely behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Ten more meters, and she could let it all out. But not yet.

The Fat Lady eyed her suspiciously. “You’re out late, m’dear.”

Lily cleared her throat. She could feel the tears longing to be shed that pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Prefect duty. Password’s ‘Agean.’”

The portrait swung wide, and Lily dashed inside. The common room was, miraculously, empty. This wasn’t totally surprising, as it was past one in the morning on a Wednesday night, but it came as a huge relief nonetheless.

Lily glanced around twice to make sure that there were no stray seventh years in the corner of the room taking advantage of the quiet atmosphere to finish up another hour of studying.

At last, when she was satisfied that the room was clear, Lily burst into tears.

“Damn it,” she whispered ferociously as she wiped her tears on the back of her sleeve, “for fuck’s sake, stop it. Stop it!” But she was powerless to stop the flood of feelings that came pouring out of her. She swore again and shook her head, hard, to stop the thoughts. Useless. Pathetic. Little girl. The words rang out over and over again, bouncing around the corners of her mind until she couldn’t take it any more.

With a roar of frustration, Lily kicked the leg of the nearest armchair as hard as she could. Fuck.

“OUCH!” She screamed and dropped to the floor. Her toe throbbed horribly, but at least it distracted from her head. She cradled the toe and prayed she hadn’t broken any bones. At this rate, she’d probably end up back in the hospital wing tomorrow morning. Lily knew that Pomfrey could probably fix a broken toe just as fast as she’d fixed the cut on her neck, but the idea did not bring her any comfort.

“Uh, Evans?”

Lily shrieked. She grabbed instinctually for her wand before realizing that it was tucked into the waistband of her school skirt. She had to flip over onto her stomach to access it properly. She pointed the wand wildly in the air in the direction of the voice. “Who’s there?”

“Oi! Stand down! It’s me!”

Lily’s heart sank. That was the last voice in the entire world she needed to hear right now.

James Potter stood near the door to the common room, his hands raised in front of him in surrender. “Blimey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lily groaned as she rolled onto her back, then sat up, wand still pointed at James. “How the hell did you get in here? The common room was empty five seconds ago, and I didn’t hear the door open.”

James, who still had his hands raised, offered her a weak smile. “Ah, well, a gentleman never reveals his secrets, or something like that,” but he looked a little guilty, “would you put that thing away? I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Lily lowered her wand cautiously. “I’m fine.”

James pointed down at her toe. “You don’t sound fine. C’mon, up you get.”

He strode over to her spot on the floor and pulled her into a standing position. She winced as she tried to put weight on her damaged toe. “I think I broke it.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” James tried to joke as he helped her hobble over to the couch, “the way you kicked that chair. Did the poor bastard commit an unspeakable offense to your person?”

“Very funny,” Lily grimaced as she sank into a seat on the couch. To her annoyance, James slid into the seat next to her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of having a very private breakdown.”

“Yeah, I noticed that bit. Come on, give me your foot.”

Lily scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously!” James cried as he waved her foot in the direction of his lap, “I’m actually pretty good with injuries. Comes with the territory, being quidditch captain. I see lots of injuries worse than this.”

“I’m surprised you made it this long through a conversation without bringing up your captainship,” Lily grumbled, but relented. She reached down to pull her mary jane off, wincing sharply as she did, then pulled her sock off as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve got some sort of foot fetish.”

“Nah,” James grinned as he accepted her maimed foot onto his lap, “I’m actually not fond of feet. Can’t stand anyone touching mine, you see. I’m dead ticklish.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Lily joked, then flushed a deep scarlet. The comment sounded much more innocent in her head.

James, however, merely laughed. She could feel herself soften a bit at his smile.

“So,” James said cautiously as he examined her foot, “do you want to talk about it?”

Lily picked at a hangnail to save herself the moment when she would have to meet his gaze. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

James rotated her foot gingerly, frowning slightly as he moved. “I mean your very private breakdown. Want to tell me what happened? You were on rounds tonight, right?”

Lily nodded. “Nothing happened. Just a bit of an accident. Kept me out later than usual. I must have gotten over tired.”

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” He took his wand from his pocket and pointed it steadily at her toe. “Episkey.”

Lily took a sharp intake of breath as she felt her bones reset with a soft pop. Then, suddenly, the pain was gone.

“Thank you,” she breathed as she flexed her toe back and forth, “really, Potter, that was brilliant. It doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”

James winked annoyingly. “Don’t mention it, now,” he leaned forward slightly, hands clasped between his knees, “if you don’t want to talk about what really happened, fine. I’ll leave you alone. But, on the off chance that you do want to talk about it, I’ve got nowhere else to be tonight.”

Lily considered this proposal. On the one hand, she’d rather eat frogspawn than admit weakness to James Potter. On the other, she couldn’t bear the thought of going back up to the dormitory with nothing but five sleeping roommates and her own thoughts for company.

For now, Potter seemed to be her only option.

“I was on rounds,” she began slowly, still looking down at her hangnail instead of in his eyes, “and I was in the dungeons.”

She paused here for a reaction from James, but he did not offer one. In fact, he was so silent she wondered if he even dared to breathe.

“It was my last stop of the night before my shift was over,” Lily said into her hands again, “and I was coming round the corner by Dungeon five. Benjy was down the other hall and lost sight of me. You know where there’s that enclave with the tapestry of Agrippa?”

She waited for James to say something, but he did not. Instead, he offered the tiniest of nods.

“He was waiting in the shadows there. Mulciber.” The name was poison on her tongue. It attacked her senses. Filled her mouth, her ears, her nose and eyes with a foul presence. She wanted to scream, to claw her face to get it out get it out get it out.

James swore quietly under his breath, but did not interrupt her. She took a moment to compose herself, then pressed on. “I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth. He had something sharp up against my neck. I couldn’t see if it was a knife or some sort of spell, but it cut me. Just there,” and she pointed to a spot on her neck just above her collar bone. “Then he started to say things to me. Nasty things. Just kept on and on. Then, finally, Benjy yelled out, and Mulciber ran off back to his common room. And I just...let him go.”

She was shocked to realize that she’d started to cry again. The tears weren’t fast and desperate as they had been a few minutes ago. Now they were controlled, cathartic. They rolled slowly down her cheeks, past her chin, and over the spot on her neck where Mulciber had cut her.

“Thank god,” James murmured. She was grateful for this interjection as it gave her a moment to wipe her eyes. “What happened then?”

Lily shook herself slightly. Now that she’d started to talk, she found she couldn’t stop. “We went straight to Dumbledore.”

James nodded vigorously. “Good, good. I’m glad. What’s going to happen to Mulciber?”

Lily let out a cold, involuntary laugh. “Nothing, James. Nothing at all.”

James gaped at her. “How is that possible! Surely Dumbledore-”

“I gave Dumbledore my memory,” Lily felt shame creep into her once again, “but it wasn’t enough. I never saw his face, never got a clear view of him in my mind. But I knew it was him. Dumbledore said there wasn’t enough to go on and sent me off to Pomfrey.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Lily noticed with a jolt that James clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “That’s bullshit,” he whispered finally, “Dumbledore is supposed to protect us. Supposed to protect you.” He glanced sideways at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Lily.”

She smiled weakly back at him. “Thanks. But honestly, he was right. If I’d have just gone after him. I mean, he ran away from me, I could have hit him with a stunner when his back was turned. But I just let him run away. I didn’t do anything to stop him.”

James’ jaw twitched, as if he were about to argue but thought better of it. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then looked at her once more. “Lily,” he whispered, as he put his hand gingerly over her own, “I am so glad you didn’t try to stop him.”

Of all the things he could have said, this was perhaps the most surprising. “How can you say that?” She wrenched her hand from his as if he’d burned her skin. “I’m supposed to be a Gryffindor. A prefect. And I can’t even defend myself from an evil, cowardly-”

“I’m glad,” James interjected softly, “because it could have saved your life. Or at the very least, saved you from an even greater harm. Think about it. He was already willing to hurt you once, who’s to say he wouldn’t have done it again?”

Lily did her best to choke back a sob. “But I let him get away with it. What if he does it again to someone else?”

James considered this for a moment. “I think sometimes the bravest choice is to keep yourself safe. And it sounds like in that moment you were in no position, emotionally or otherwise, to try and take him down. Not after what he did to you. You live to fight another day, always.”

Lily said nothing. She still felt the shame, the guilt that she’d watched Mulciber run down that corridor without so much as reaching for her wand. But she also remembered the panic, the feeling that she couldn’t move a muscle. Fear had rendered her completely immobile. She couldn’t have stopped him even if she wanted to.

“I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but you can’t blame yourself,” James said firmly, “you reacted the only way you knew how. It doesn’t make you weak.”

Lily nodded slowly. Then, without thinking, she reached back out and took his hand gently in her own. They sat like that for a long time, sitting several feet away from each other but holding hands quietly. James stared straight ahead into the fire, but every now and then would run his thumb across the ridges of her knuckles.

After at least ten minutes of quiet, Lily spoke. “You haven’t asked me what he said.”

James shrugged. “It’s not my business. I mean, if you want to tell me, you can. But I have a feeling you would have by now.”

Lily tried to block out the voice that played like a megaphone in her head. Mudblood. Pathetic. Useless. Stupid little girl.

“I’m sure you can guess,” Lily muttered, hating herself for crying again.

James turned his head from the fire to look at her again. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, Lily,” he’d never heard him sound so sincere before, “I really believe he chose the wrong person to fuck with.”

Lily smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

James smiled back. “Plus,” he offered, “you’ve got a lot of friends that will help you kick his arse back to hell or whatever hole he crawled out from.”

Lily couldn’t help but laugh a little. It was an empty threat. She knew that Mulciber’s attack was a symptom of something darker, something more insidious than a school rivalry. Her friends wouldn’t be able to protect her forever. But it was nice to pretend that she wasn’t alone.

“Thank you. I’m glad you were here tonight, even if you scared the ever loving shit out of me.”

James winked, but it was with less cheek than he usually possessed. “No problem. You know me, students from far and wide across this great castle seek me out for my emotional services.”

She really laughed at this. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it, I’m really quite mature when I want to be.”

She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. Her heart was still heavy, and she suspected it would be for some time now, but it was easier to bear. Suddenly she realized how completely exhausted she was.

“I should go up,” she whispered. She squeezed his hand gently before pulling away from him. “I’ve got to get some sleep or I’ll be a wreck for McGonagall.”

James stood quickly with her as she moved to leave. “I’ll hand in your essay, if you want,” he said hurriedly, “you should get as much sleep as you can. She won’t mind, I’ll tell her to talk to Dumbledore if she has any questions.”

Lily frowned at him slightly. “How can you hand in my essay if you haven’t even done yours?”

James barked with laughter at this. “You underestimate me! I wouldn’t dare ignore an assignment from Minnie.”

“Right,” Lily said, bemused. She pulled out her wand and summoned her essay down from her dorm. It zoomed right into her hand, and she handed it over. “Thanks so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it, I hope you get some-”

But his sentence was cut off by the sound of the portrait hole swinging open.

“Oi!” Sirius called as he and Peter strode over to them, “where the bloody hell were you? You were supposed to be our lookout, remember?”

Lily raised an eyebrow at James. “You know, we never did get around to discussing what you were doing in the common room at one in the morning.”

James laughed nervously. “Ah, Evans, there are some things you’re better off not knowing. Trust me.”

She smiled at him once more, then turned her back on him for her dormitory. The sounds of bickering followed her, echoing all the way across the common room and up the stairs.

The words did not stop playing over and over again in her head the whole time she got ready for bed. Pathetic. Useless. Mudlbood. But now, new words joined them. Soft, kind words broke the monotony of cruelty that played on repeat inside her mind.

You live to fight another day, always.

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode eight: Dinner with Yuuichi!

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up to Yuuichi shaking him gently, "Kyoya? Wake up, it's three minutes past five." Oh god, it was worse then he'd thought; he'd overslept.

Kyoya sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes before fumbling to pick up his glasses from underneath his blankets. "Oh! Uh, I… sorry Yuuichi, I didn't intend to fall asleep." He hung his head in shame, surely Yuuichi wouldn't want to spend time with him now, he was a disgrace…

Yuuichi pulled him into a hug instead, "hey, don't worry about it, nothing wrong with taking a little nap, even if it's by accident," he chuckled gently, poking Kyoya gently, "I doubt you got much sleep last night away, watching movies with your buddy." Kyoya was shaken, shocked that his brother didn't seem to mind it… He watched Yuuichi stretch, he had changed outfits since lunchtime, and was now wearing a much more casual outfit, a white polo shirt with some black jeans… still looking almost formal, but more passable for regular society. "Are you going to get dressed? Come on bud, let's get you ready to go, alright?"

Kyoya just let Yuuichi help pick out his outfit, not caring how the outfit chosen was the cutest one possible, Yuuichi was like that. He got dressed then sat and let his brother remove the makeup still on his face, Yuuichi made sure to be gentle with the makeup wipe, but he was thorough and didn't leave even the foundation on Kyoya's face. It was clear his shock at the state of the bags under Kyoya's eyes, not having expected his baby brother to be so sleep deprived, but Yuuichi didn't ask, and Kyoya was thankful. He sat still when Yuuichi combed his hair for him, pleased when it was the easiest task for his brother.

When they were both ready, they got into Yuuichi's car, not a limo- Yuuichi had said that it might scare the commoners. They sat in silence on the way there, Yuuichi just focused on driving, and Kyoya focused on the fact that he didn't bring his book, he'd forgotten his book- he hadn't written a single entry the whole day, how was he supposed to know today even happened? He'd have to be sure to write one when he got home. Of course, it wasn't completely silent, Yuuichi had left the radio on, albeit very quietly, Kyoya had a sneaking suspicion that his older brother hated the quiet just as much as he did.

They walked into the… restaurant? Diner? They walked into the building, and Kyoya felt like a child, he wanted to hold his big brother's hand and not meet anyone's eye- he settled for just the latter. "What do you want to get Kyo?" Yuuichi had asked him that as they stood in the queue, Kyoya wasn't exactly sure what he wanted… he'd only been to an establishment like this one before, and it was a different brand. Kyoya looked over at the big screens displaying the menu, he was annoyed how he had to squint a bit to see some of the items written, even with his glasses on. He sometimes wished he could just see, but his glasses were one of his defining traits, he couldn't hate everything people liked about him- it wasn't mathematically possible, he had to at least be neutral towards one thing, and he chose his glasses.

He chose to order one of their special burger things, it contains cheese, meat and most importantly; bread, so Kyoya was happy with it. Of course he let Yuuichi order, who ordered the full meal instead of just a burger- Kyoya wasn't even aware you had to specify, as well as a milkshake, a vanilla one, knowing that Kyoya preferred simplicity. Kyoya was, of course, a little annoyed that Yuuichi bought a coffee for himself but not for Kyoya, but he knew that Yuuichi was just trying to look out for him, and avoid giving him a caffeine addiction that he probably already had. They didn't really have to wait that long, Kyoya was amazed they could make mincemeat and cook it into a burger shape in such a short time- though he'd heard that some commoners buy premade burgers that they just cooked, he wasn't sure if he believed that.

They'd originally sat at a table to wait, planning to sit there to eat the food as well. But it became increasingly clear that the chatter inside the diner; the screaming children, the many different conversations happening at once, the random adverts happening on the screens for the restaurant they were already inside- it was all a bit much for Kyoya, especially after laying in bed all day, and he was visibly uncomfortable with the atmosphere, even as he tried to look happy for his brother's sake. Yuuichi was a lot more caring then Kyoya gave him credit for, instantly asking Kyoya if he'd rather eat in the car, assuring him that of course he didn't mind, of course he wasn't mad, before Kyoya could even ask- he knew his littlest brother too well.

So they sat in the car to eat, the music still softly playing in the background, stimulating, but not too much. Kyoya opened the little box his food had come in, picking up a fry and hesitantly eating it- it was good, better than the place Haruhi had taken him, god, Haruhi couldn't do anything right. It was of course, horrendously shitty, but a good sort of shitty; it was salty and greasy and almost inedible, and so was the burger… it was heaven for the boy who only ever got served light and delicate foods, or rich and stodgy foods. Kyoya very rarely got to eat the food common people are, and he enjoyed it so very much. He'd had commoner food yesterday too, he was very lucky and this was a great weekend. He was halfway through his burger- three bites to be precise, when Yuuichi chuckled.

"Were you really that hungry Kyoya? You should've eaten lunch," he was smiling, joking, but something about his words made Kyoya feel really, suddenly wrong- he almost felt nauseous with shame. He put the burger back in the box, closing it as fast as he could, he couldn't meet his brother's eyes, so instead looked through the front window, hands beginning to shake.

"No! I… I'm not that hungry at all really, I uh- it's not even that good, it's all greasy and disgusting and I-..." he trailed off… he didn't have an answer that was satisfying, he suddenly felt filthy for enjoying such a food, he was supposed to be above such things- was this a trap? Was it a test? Did he fail? Was Yuuichi going to get angry at him? Was he going to yell? Was he going to tell him he deserved his scars- no, Yuuichi wouldn't do that, his big brother wouldn't do that to him…

He realised he'd begun to panic when Yuuichi set a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking concerned, "Kyoya. Kyoya, listen to me; it's alright, I was just joking, I didn't realize you'd panic, I'm sorry, there's nothing wrong with enjoying your food," his voice was nothing but gentle, it left no room for arguments but really helped settle Kyoya, he smiled softly at Kyoya again, before picking Kyoya's milkshake out of the cup holder and handing it to him, "maybe try and have a drink between bites, it's a good idea to hydrate too."

Kyoya just silently nodded, taking the milkshake and slowly sipping it… it was incredibly thick for a drink, he enjoyed it immensely, but was careful about not showing it too much. He just quietly finished his food, smiling softly by the end of it, the last time he'd spent time with his brother like this, it was middle school- his first year, if Kyoya remembered right. It had been warm and bright that day, around lunch time. This time, it's evening, and they're sitting in Yuuichi's car, trying to fight off all those horrible thoughts. It's working a little, Kyoya feels better here than he did in bed, sitting with his big brother… it made him feel safe.

Yuuichi would protect him, he'd promised that back when Kyoya was three, and every time Kyoya was in pain, Yuuichi silently restated the promise; he'd protect Kyoya from everything, even Kyoya himself.

When they'd finished their meal, Kyoya just silently sipping the last dregs of his milkshake, Yuuichi took the car through the drive through, ordering them both an apple pie. But what they got was not a pie, it was similar to a sausage roll in shape, but filled with an apple jam, Kyoya stared at it for a moment, confused. "Careful," Yuuichi said, smiling, "it's really hot, you might want to leave it a while."

Kyoya was never one to take his brother's advice, besides, wasn't it better to eat food while it's hot? He took a bit of the apple pie, oh that was good, much better than Kyoya was expecting- much hotter too, very hot in fact… so hot it hurt. The second Kyoya realised he was in pain, he took another bite of the molten treat, relishing both the taste and the pain. It was nowhere near the pain he got on his arms and legs, but it was a pain his brother wouldn't mind if he gave himself, so it was a pain Kyoya would gladly take.

It was cathartic, in a strange way- a lighter pain then usual, and in a different place too, it felt like a brief respite from his usual way of coping with things. But he ate too fast, and the apple pie was quickly gone, Kyoya felt disappointed at that, he had been enjoying that, why was it so small? His frown must have been visible, because Yuuichi smiled, barely taking his eyes off the road, "You can have mine if you want, I don't care that much." Kyoya had grabbed it before Yuuichi even finished the sentence, he was confident in stealing from his brother- he felt safe here after all. He bit into the apple pie, it was still hot, but didn't burn him like his had, it was still incredibly satisfying nonetheless though, Kyoya couldn't complain.

They got home, and father demanded to know where they'd been, Yuuichi just chuckled, apologising for not texting him, saying how he hadn't realised they'd be out that long and other various things to placate their father. Kyoya couldn't help but shuffle behind Yuuichi slightly, he wasn't scared of father, of course not, he'd just rather stand here, where it was safe.

But father didn't seem angry at Kyoya at all, barely even acknowledging he was there, he instead chose to lecture Yuuichi, telling him how he'd prefer to be notified when the man takes Kyoya out for little trips. Yuuichi had apologised again, and tried to say he didn't think it'd matter too much, when father spoke words that shut down any path of descent.

"I don't want to not know where my youngest is when he's been displaying self destructive habits again, what if he breaks down in public? Where there are hundreds of people watching? What then Yuuichi? I want to hear your answer, since you seem to know what's best for your brother."

Yuuichi simply hung his head in shame, not meeting anyone's eyes as Tachibana led Kyoya upstairs. Kyoya felt nothing but guilt… guilt and shame, father was only angry at Yuuichi, because he was ashamed of Kyoya. Fiyumi must have told him about the recent scars… now father was worried about Kyoya embarrassing him with his failing mental health. What did father think was going to happen? Did he think Kyoya was going to self harm in public? Or- god forbid- start crying? Father must have thought him truly weak to say that sort of things in earnest, it was the cruelest thing Kyoya had ever heard.

[cometthespacechinchilla]

I... can’t believe this. Part 10, guys. And right around the Atlas S2 release too, which is a month ahead of when I expected to finally finish this. Final word count: 12693. Which is approximately four times the length of my original plan.

There will be an epilogue. Sometime. Eventually. Promise. The author’s note on that will probably be at the end because it’s going to be a bit longer winded (because I’m the author and I can).

I will likely upload this to AO3 at some point in the near-ish future? It may have some edits by that point. If the edits are major, then I’ll be sure to mention it to you guys.

Writing Masterpost (where you can find all the other parts)

It had been a few days since she had woken up before Aggie left her room for an extended period of time again. When she was around, the rest of the crew treated her normally and when she abruptly retreated to her room for whatever reason, no one said anything. She had never been more grateful that this was the crew she had managed to crash into all those months ago.

Atlas and she didn’t speak much. She had woken up in his bed the morning after she had broken down, surprised she hadn’t woken up from a nightmare (her reprieve didn’t last long, the next night she was back to screaming herself awake). He was nowhere in sight. She went to the lounge to find him alone except for Comet. He slid a bowl of cereal over the bar to her, which she quietly thanked him for and sat down to eat. Beyond that small exchange, barely a handful of words had passed between them since then.

She was working through her feelings, though having to simultaneously process her solitary confinement slowed it to a dead halt sometimes. Some of her anger had subsided, probably because she was now back on the Promise. It wasn’t as uncomfortable to be around Atlas, which made her feel confident she wasn’t going to leave again.

He had hurt her and that was not going to disappear, not for a long while, if it ever did. Whatever he had suffered didn’t justify what he had done, she knew that. He had broken her trust.

Was it worth trying to repair a relationship after that?

She debated asking for advice. Orion was out of the question entirely. She knew that he wouldn’t let his friendship with Atlas bias him, but he was the last person she wanted to approach with emotional matters. Jaxon she trusted with everything, but she had to admit he probably would be extremely biased. Nova... it was difficult to say. She wasn’t exactly a normal human. However, she would be fairly unbiased and she was learning more about the emotional aspect of humanity.

Well, she was the least likely to judge (or punch Atlas in the face) if nothing else, so Aggie found herself knocking on her door one afternoon.

“Come in,” she heard her call. She walked in to see Nova sitting on her bed, reading and listening to a podcast simultaneously. “Oh, Aggie, is everything all right?” she asked.

“Well...” Aggie shuffled a little from foot to foot. Was this the best option? Before she could second guess herself, she blurted out, “Can I ask you for some advice?”

Nova blinked rapidly for a moment, a rare moment of shock before her face was back to a gentle smile. “Of course,” she said, gesturing to the free end of her bed. “What is bothering you?”

“Did Atlas ever mention why I left?” she asked as she sat down.

Nova considered the question for a moment, then shook her head. “He did not. We all had ideas, especially Jaxon, but no evidence.”

Breathing in, she dove into the complete story. It was cathartic in a way. It helped her process things further, let out frustration she had been keeping inside, and helped her feel calmer.

“I just don’t know what to do,” she said as she finished.

Nova considered her for a long while before speaking. “I do not have a soulmate, so I do not think I can understand what you are feeling, but...” She paused, clearly thinking hard about what to say next. “Do you remember when you were angry with Jaxon for ruining your schematic for a navigation system?”

Aggie knew what incident she was referring to. She had she had devoted over a thousand hours to that design when Jaxon mimed spilling water on her. The problem had been when he actually managed to spill water on her tablet and frying it, all her data gone in the blink of an eye. She had been so furious with him she refused to speak to him for over a week. “Of course.”

“Why did you forgive him?”

“Because it wasn’t worth losing his friendship,” she said without hesitation. “Sure, I was angry and it was frustrating to have to redesign the entire thing from scratch, but in the end I forgave him.” She shrugged. “He’s too important to me to lose, especially for something like ruining a design.”

“What about Atlas? Is this worth losing his friendship?” If it were anyone else, Aggie would think they were trying to prompt her, make her feel like she really ought to work things out with him. But with Nova, she felt the woman was legitimately curious about her answer, not trying to bias her.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I’m not sure, Nova,” she said. “But that helped, thank you.” It did give her a focus, if nothing else. At least she was closer to her answer than fifteen minutes ago.

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling brightly. “I hope you will find an answer soon.”

“Me too,” she said as she stood up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, Aggie,” she said before returning to her book.

Aggie took in a deep breath as the door slid shut behind her. It hadn’t fixed everything, but she was able to walk back to her room feeling just a little bit lighter.

The next day was one of her better days. Nothing had triggered a flashback so far, she had gotten a decent amount of sleep for once, and she actually felt like she could relax in security, her brain not persistently paranoid for the moment. She even spent some time with Comet in the lounge, her back to the door. Tomorrow would probably look very different, she knew that, but she would appreciate it while it lasted. It was progress.

Later that day, when everyone was doing their own thing, Aggie finally felt ready to talk to Atlas. She knew she couldn’t risk waiting and losing her window of cool, so she seized the moment and went over to his room.

Breathing in deep, she knocked her signature quiet knock on Atlas’s door. As usual, he said nothing before opening his door.

Walking in, she saw him sitting at his desk, tinkering with some sort of antique bit of technology. She went to his bed, crossing her legs and leaning forward to rest her arms on her thighs. He turned to her, but said nothing.

“You said you’d answer my questions,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Any question.”

“Yes.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, loose for a change. “Why did you do it?” The same question she had asked before, but she knew that this time his answer would be different.

He also sighed, pushing a hand through his own hair. “That mission....” His jaw clenched. “I saw my entire team get blown to pieces. I nearly died myself, but I didn’t.” He took something off his shelf and handed it to her. It was a plaque. “I was their leader. Their deaths are on me. And they gave me a bloody award for it,” he scoffed. “For a while, I stayed away because I couldn’t explain and couldn’t bring myself to lie and pretend that everything was fine.

“I was a coward.” He said it matter-of-factly. “It became easier to stay silent, rather than finally explain myself.”

Slowly, cautiously, Aggie nodded. “Ok...” She was struggling to find words, any words to respond to that confession.

“That was why I did it, for the most part,” he continued.

“What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair again, mussing it further and causing the strands to flop every which way. “I’m not trying to justify what I did or that it was right to think this, but part of me did believe you were better off without me. You deserved better company than I could be.”

“Why'd you think that?” She remembered his attempts to keep her at arms length, especially early on. Friendly enough after a while, but a wall still there nonetheless.

He gave her a look. “Do you really need to ask?”

“No,” she admitted. She decided maybe there were some things between them better left unsaid. “But...” She sighed, grasping for something to say. “What do we do now? I’m not leaving again and we can’t go on like this. Something needs to change, Atlas.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This is what she had come to do. Answers, then an olive branch. “I’m willing to... try. Again. Not start over, I mean. But... try. That’s my part.” Eloquently put, Aggie.

But he nodded, understanding what she meant. “I would like that.” The gentleness in his voice wasn’t something she had never heard before, but it was rare enough to still give her a little shock.

“Things have to change, Atlas,” she said.

“And by that you mean I have to change,” he corrected.

She shrugged. “I’m not the one that brought us to this, Atlas,” she said quietly. “And if something doesn’t change we’re going to end up right back here again."

He nodded.

“I can’t tell you how to do that,” she continued. “But... working through what happened eight years ago might be a good place to start.”

He nodded again. Looking at his face, she was pretty sure this was the closest she had ever seen him to tears before. Almost dry, but a bit too bright.

“Ok,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She leaned forward, holding out both her hands. “Let’s try again.”

Moving forward wouldn’t be easy. It wasn’t just Aggie trying to forgive Atlas. It was Atlas learning to forgive himself. She knew that the future ahead would be difficult for both of them, her journey long and painful, his no less painful and even longer. She knew that wherever things went, they could never go back to the way they were before.

As he took her hands their eyes met, her’s determined and his almost starting to hope. No, they could never be exactly the same, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t figure this out.

They had a chance to get to a new normal and Aggie believed they would find their way. What it would look like, neither of them could know. But it was something they would find out together.

This time, she didn’t need him, but she wanted him by her side.

This time, he was there, and she had faith that that is where he would remain as long as she asked him to.

[icypantherwrites]

Why I Write

I preface this saying if I were to actually answer that question (which was asked of me during my first writing class in college and has resonated with me since) we would be here for a while as I went off on every tangent.

But the main reason I write? That is to inspire others and make them *feel* and even for just a short amount of time be transported into an entire new world. I love that so much. 

Which is why I want to share this comment I recently got on As Color Fades Away. Words have power and I am touched and awed that I could help someone so. I have had many comments on Color of a similar vein of Lance’s struggles and resolutions resonating, but nothing quite so personal and brave. It’s important as writers -- as people -- to remember that we can make a difference in this world and help others. *This* is why I write. 

Comment:

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I´m sorry für any errors or incomprehensible mumbling.

I have severe depression and anxiety for most of my short life, and I´m only 23 years old. Because of my illness and the meds, I´ve lost most of my ability to feel any kind of emotion that goes deeper than the water in a pond is deep.

No story, no death of real persons or family members has let me feel anything deeper than my pond water. But, and now comes the very questionable part: Your story let´s me feel something. I felt exhilarated to read all of the story, every torture scene was really thrilling for me. And that is not because I love it to see people (as fictional as they may be) suffering. At first, I thought, that my brain and my personality must be really screwed up.

But no, thats not it (maybe a little bit, why would people write and read such things if they aren´t liking it?)

It´s because the feelings you describe, the horror, the bad stuff, but the good stuff and everything else resonates within me. It´s kind of like I get to read my expressed feelings and i can find myself in it. At first I thought, that I should stop reading this, because the feelings I felt wasn´t very good. But it is kind of .... cathartic for me. It helps me understand my deepest and darkest feelings better and helps me cope with myself, even if I need to sort out my feelings for some time after reading it, but thats okay. Even if they are dark and sometimes scary emotions, they are emotions nonetheless.

I just wanted to thank you. Really. You are giving me a peek at a ability I thought I had lost: my feelings and my emotions.

So...just thank you dearly.

My response: (longer version of intro to this post)

Disclaimer: Your English is better than a good chunk of native speakers of which English is their *only* language. You are doing great!

Wow. Your comment made me tear up (in a good way!) and I am just blown away by what you shared. That is very brave of you. ♥

I cannot imagine the pain (or, lack of it) to not be able to really feel emotions. I'm a very expressive individual although I suppose I'm a bit too much like Lance when it matters and keep the worst locked inside as I hate to be a burden to others, but otherwise I'm a pretty much heart on my sleeve. Depression is scary and the apathy that comes with it even more so. To hear that you are suffering through such a thing (and so young too) hurts my heart.

That said, to read that Color has given you the ability to feel *something* again? Wow. *This* is why I write. To create feelings and emotions, but to know that it can actually help someone is the highest compliment I have received and ever will. The emotions in Color, as you acknowledged, are not always good. They are painful and hurtful and sometimes hard to stomach because you just hurt right alongside them (on an aside, there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying reading about characters in pain (or writing them :p) and you are in very good company  here. There's whole conversations around the topic but I think a lot of us enjoy it so because we both like to see characters overcome those obstacles (gives us a sense of fulfillment alongside them) and also gives in to some of our more baser instincts as technically animals and just that thrill of a guilty pleasure).

But after all that pain and hurt there comes the comfort and the love and the support. *Those* are things I stress daily in my own life to others (I'm a huge mother hen, no judging) and honestly, if I had not gone into writing I definitely would have seen myself as a counselor or therapist. I love being able to help and comfort others and there is truly no better feeling to know that your actions brought a smile to someone's face or eased an ache in their heart. Every little small thing matters and I do my best to spread that kind of joy and love.

Color has been extremely cathartic to write personally as it's affirming in the best way that there is so much *good* out there and that no matter how broken down and hurt one is there is *always* a light at the end of the tunnel. There will always be those around you who care and want to see you succeed and be safe and happy and loved.

So to hear that Color has invoked those feelings and emotions you have had a hard time finding? I am so beyond happy that my writing could help you in such a way. Truly. I write for my own enjoyment but hearing about experiences like your own remind me that words do have incredible power and its up to us to wield them in the best way possible.

Color is definitely on the up and up for Lance as he heals and opens himself up to accepting that love and comfort from others and pushing away Haggar's poison, and I hope your own life continues to grow a little brighter every day as well. Keeping you in my thoughts and cheering for your success and happiness. ♥

[forgetmenotblues]

52 in 52

So last year I tried to read 52 books in 52 weeks (aka a year, if you're nasty), and because I was a shiftless philosophy student, I managed and then some.

Here are the books I've read, with some thoughts on them, for posterity, or recommendations

1) Sandman Overture, Neil Gaiman

Pretty solid, usually I hate prequels, but sandman was always pretty meandering and non-linear, so it works well. Just annoying it doesn't fit in with my pretty leatherbound absolute editions

2) Radioactive: love and fallout, Lauren Redniss

Very cool artsy biography of Marie Curie, and glows in the dark!

3) XKCD What if?

Extremely fun science, makes some abstract concepts approachable, I mean it's Randall Munroe, it's solid

4) Rise to Rebellion, Jeff Shaara

Historical novel (gonna be a few of these, I'm dead into them) about the build up to the American revolution . Kinda dry for a lot of it, but can ratchet the tension up, taught me lots I didn't know, and there's a bit towards the end where John Adams' wife calls him out on his privilege and it's pretty rad

5) Dune, Frank Herbert

I hate myself for saying this, but I was expecting it to be a bit more... dry. But seriously, everything described it as complex philosophy and politics, ASOIAF in space, and then it was a pretty straightforward adventure. The dynastic politics boiled down to a family of cool beautiful good guys vs an evil family of "hilariously" fat perverts. It was a great read, but more Laurence of Arabia than anything else

6) Squirrel girl, Ryan North 

Fantastic, fun, brilliantly written - it's Ryan North, nuff said.

7) Virgil, Steve Orlando

A cool, dark, "queersploitation" comic. Your basic "beaten and left for dead, wreaks vengeance" type story, brutal, but honestly pretty cathartic

8) the house that groaned, karrie fransman

A comic about a bunch of dysfunctional people. I didn't care for it, it was a lot of kinda shallow Freudian psychology and slightly tim burton esque "quirky" characters. It was kinda like the A Dolls House arc of Sandman, but... not good

9) The Last Continent, Terry Pratchett

Discworld is always fantastic, and I've got a real fondness for the classic travelogue style rincewind ones.

10) Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist, Russel McCormmach

The story of a German physicist who's dedicated his whole life to ether model physics and is realising his life's work is being disproved by recent advances... so a barrel of laughs. All about mortality, the fear of obsolescence, nationalism, and academia.

11) The Property, Rutu Modan

Indie comic about a girl learning about her family's heritage in Europe, lots of post war stuff and exploring "the old country". Very good

12) The Wake, Paul Kingsnorth

This was one of the real wins of this year, a story about the Norman occupation of Anglo Saxon England after 1066, and resistance thereof. Written in a conlang made to simulate old english, it seems totally unreadable, but you pick it up, and it makes the story infinitely more engrossing. A cool setting plus a whole other language wouldbe enough, but kingsnorth goes one further and makes it a savage deconstruction of nationalism and a beautifully painful exploration of tropes these sorts of books tend to embrace. Can't recommend enough.

13) Adventures of Hergé, Jean-luc Fromental

Biography of hergé written in the style of a tintin comic, a lot of fun

14) Carpé Jugulum, Terry Pratchett

Another Discworld, another classic. A lot of fun stuff with vampire tropes, although also a pretty serious discussion of "all evil comes from utilitarianism", which I felt didn't entirely fit, and I disagreed with. But again, the biggest criticism I've ever had of a Pratchett book is "his intelligent discussion of philosophy felt a little out of place", so not the end of the world

15) Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett

I went on a bit of a discworld binge here, another great one

16) Half a King, Joe Abercrombie

Great deconstructive low fantasy  novel, one of the many ASOIAF-esque books out there, and one of the few I've really enjoyed

17) Batman and Robin Eternal, D.C. Comics

Fun story about the batfamily, one of the rare bat-titles to really say "hey maybe this should be fun, you guys?"

18) Magical Game Time, Zac Gorman

Brilliant comics about video games, capture the real magic and freedom you found in games when you're a kid, the epic narratives you'd weave out of very simple Zelda games on the NES. makes me happy on a fundamental level. A lot of its available as webcomics, look it up, you won't regret it

19) The Truth, Terry Pratchett

Another brilliant Discworld book. Not much to say as there's a lot of these another all just consistently amongst the best books ever.

20) Wonder Woman Earth 1, Grant Morrison

Grant Morrison's always got a gift for finding the heart of a character, and he doesn't disappoint here. A lot of weird analysis of wonder woman as a feminist character, but he handles it pretty well overall.

21) & 22) Half the World, and Half a War, Joe Abercrombie

Parts 2 and 3 of the series, stays brilliant. Abercrombie is apparently best known for more adult stuff and this is more YA, but if anything that refines his writing - stops him being another grimdark game of thrones wannabe, and keeps it slightly more reconstructive and intelligent. Brilliant use of characters, the hero of the first book ends up almost the villain of the last, and all for entirely understandable reasons.

23) Machine of Death, various authors

A short story collection about a high concept: a simple blood test can tell you your cause of Death, but not the time or any specifics. A brilliant idea is explored in a lot of clever, beautiful, and hilarious ways.

24) The Last Hero, Terry Pratchett

Another brilliant Discworld, acting as a bridge between the classic fantasy of the older books, and the renaissance era politics and science of the later books - v poignant

25, 26, & 27) Harlequin, Vagabond, Heretic, Bernard Cornwell

Historical novels about the battle of creçy and the start of the 100 years war. Cornwells always good, although honestly these aren't his best. Pretty cool comparison between the chivalry of grain quests, and the reality of medieval warfare.

28) Long Halloween, Jeph Loeb

A classic batman, the story they based Dark Knight on, with a cool transition from down to earth organised crime of Year One to the zany madness of later batman

29) Little Brother, Cory Doctorow

A novel about post-911 culture, and counter culture rebellions against it. Fantastic novel, available as creative commons, so you can get it for free, so no excuses not to read! Very inspiring in that fuck Bush and fuck this war aesthetic, and Ihve a feeling it's gonna get real relevant in the coming years

30) Enders Game, Orson Scott Card

Pretty fantastic sci fi, analyses the psychological impacts of chosen one children saving the world, and the ethics of a "all the enemy are evil aliens" narrative. Obviously all this ethicality is a bit hypocritical from Orson Scott homophobia, so buy it second hand?

31) Black Guard, AJ Smith

Pretty cool fantasy, another faux ASOIAF type one, fairly straightforward, but plenty enjoyable

32) Deadpool vs Hawkeye

Pretty fun comic, read it on a plane back from Costa Rica, so I dont super remember it? But I enjoyed  

33) The Sleeper and the Spindle, Neil Gaiman

Very cool twisted fairy tale type thing, Neil Gaiman's always good, and beautiful Chris Riddel illustrations on top

34) Dial H for Hero, China Miéville

Great comic series, takes a simple idea (guy finds magic phone, when he dials it, he becomes a randomised superhero) and explores it in every possible way, becoming a full blown epic. Plus a scene where he becomes old timey racist heroes from the 60's and has to balance the good of doing superheroics vs the offensiveness of going out as "super chief" or whoever

35) Ravenspur, Conn Iggulden

Historical novel about the war of the roses. Iggulden is always very good, makes extremely readable stuff, and his war of the roses series is fantastic, a complex story made into an awesome action story. However, this last book isn't his best, it spends about 2/3rds of the book on a 6 month period where not much happens, then blazes through 10 years of action in no time at all, the pacing just felt a bit off. Still very good.

36) Howard the Duck, Chip Zdarsky

Very readable, very fun, very witty

37) Stonehenge, Bernard Cornwell

Historical novel about the building of Stonehenge, this is cornwell at his best, at border of very well researched intelligent history and the slightest hint of fantasy, making a brilliant story that brings history to life.

38) Black Orchid, Neil Gaiman

Slightly deconstructive superhero story, reads very much like a companion piece to Alan Moore's brilliant Swamp Thing

39) The Hartlepool Monkey, Wilfrid Lupano

Historical comic about a northern English town that hanged a shipwrecked monkey as a Napoleonic spy. A brutal read, exploring idiotic nationalism, well recommended

40) Turned Out Nice Again, Richard Mabry

Cute non-fiction musings on the meanings of weather and it's effects on our day to day life

41) The Heroes, Joe Abercrombie

Another deconstructive low fantasy, this time part of his adult series, which actually kind of works against it. Without the lighter edge, it can be a little bit of a downer. Nonetheless, well written, solid characterisation, and an excellent take-down of fantasy's belief in the glorious nature of war.

42) Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett

Another fantastic Discworld, fun, funny, and clever

43, 44, 45, 46, 47) A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, A Dance with Dragons

Reread all of ASOIAF, absolutely fantastic, better on a second read. The first 3 are great as last time, plus all the foreshadowing that now makes sense. And 4&5, which I felt bit more ambivalent about the first time round, I've since read various analyses of (check out @asoiafuniversity), and I'd now consider them some of the best books I've ever read.

48) Gettysburg Address, Jonathon Hennessey

Absolutely brilliant comic, dissecting the Gettysburg address, using each line of it as a jumping off point to explore the history and philosophy of the civil war, incredibly high recommendation

49) Lazarus, Greg Rucka

A fantastic sci fi comic series, brilliant writing and characters, rucka is always great, and this is some of his best

50) Night Watch, Terry Pratchett

Another Discworld, but this one is even better than usual, this is one of the ones that stand out as serious business, much less comedic and much more epic than usual

51) A Brief History of Vice, Robert Evans

Hilarious and informative book from a cracked.com writer about use of drugs and alcohol through history, with recipes and recommendations for legal highs and drink recipes

52) Just City, Jo Walton

Sci fi / fantasy /philosophical novel, where great thinkers from throughout history are brought together to build Plato's perfect city. All about the clash between high ideals and practical reality. Very enjoyable, the sort of book where action scenes are philosophical debates.

53) Goldie Vance, Hope Larson

Fun cool progressive detective comic

54) Temeraire, Naomi Novak

A really fun fantasy novel with a concept that seems so simple, you don't know how no one's done it before. Essentially it's just the classical trope of dragon riders, but updated from pseudo medieval to the Napoleonic era, with all  associated tall ships and iron men and officer and a gentleman tropes