#(i also have a horrible habit of repeatedly going over the same place for several days afterwards so that will probably change)

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

the internet: yeah to practise harm reduction you go for areas that have more flesh to avoid going too deep and needing medical attention

me, an idiot: let's pick this spot anyway, how bad can it be. ...how did i get that deep that quickly

[sergeantxrogers]

| confused all the time |

Summary: Bucky’s back, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (post CA:TWS)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, violence, slight TW for physical abuse (but not really), just a shit ton of crying because apparently I can’t have a fic without some hurt/comfort

__________________________________

"It was him, I just know it. I would bet my life on it."

Steve ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, pacing the floor of your shared bedroom.

You sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and frowning. You were worried for him, you really were. Of course, you trusted Steve, with your life practically, and you believed him, but seeing him in this state made you upset.

Apparently, seeing his best friend after decades of thinking he was dead hadn't affected him very positively. There's also the small additional fact that he, the aforementioned best friend, had no idea who Steve was. After finding him on the river bank, last seeing him falling through the sky along with the rubble into the water, lids heavy and barely breathing, soaking wet and cold, it had taken you several days to bring him out of the state of shock he was in.

He had kept insisting it was Bucky who had dragged him out of the water; kept insisting that he saw the hesitation in his eyes before he threw the final punch; kept insisting he had recognized him. You pulled him through every claim with silent nods and the occasional "I know, babe".

Today was different though. It had been 8 days since the incident on the helicarrier, and Steve had been losing his mind bit by bit everyday trying to piece together the how, when and why of the whole situation. Which brought you to right now, watching him shut his eyes and let out deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

"How is it even..," he started quietly. You got up on your knees and moved over to the edge of the bed, leaning a bit to reach out to him.

"I saw him fall," he stated blankly, taking your outstretched hand mindlessly, interlacing your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek and tilted your head at him.

"Stevie...," you began, and he pulled his hand from yours suddenly.

"I saw him, Y/N, I couldn't see anything else for months. I couldn't sleep because all I could see were his eyes losing hope and all I could hear was him screaming."

You nodded slightly, getting up off the bed and slowly making your way a couple steps over to him.

"So how? How? I know it's him, I just can't, for the life of me, understand how," he said desperately as his head shot up to make eye contact with you. You let out a deep sigh as you grabbed his hands in your own, trying to give him some sense of stability, if only for a split second. You admit, it was very hard to believe, and somewhere in the back of your mind you worried that Steve had lost his mind completely; it had only been a matter of time, honestly, considering everything he'd been through. You had no idea how to talk to him about this, but you knew you should approach the subject lightly.

"Steve, honey, I know you must miss him a lot, and I know it was a horrible thing for you to see him... go like that... but-"

His eyes that were previously burning holes into the floor shot up to meet yours, seemingly furious.

Okay, so maybe it could've been approached even lighter. Oops.

"But? But what?" he challenged, daring you to finish the sentence. In all honestly, you had no idea where you were planning on going with it, but now you were nervous. Very, very nervous.

Steve had this incredulous are you kidding me look he gave people when they said something stupid or rude. It was one of those looks where the disappointment was obvious and whoever it was directed at felt immediate regret. The look of God's Righteous Man and America's Golden Boy, and all that. And you were sure as hell feeling that regret right about now.

"Go on, finish your sentence, honey," he ended on a sarcastic note, pulling away from you to cross his arms. You felt your stomach clench as he leaned his head back to look down at you, raising a brow in waiting.

You swallowed, and shook your head slowly, not knowing what to say. You just wanted to help him, but seeing Bucky like that had made him act like a completely different person ever since. He was frustrated all the time, he tended to roll his eyes at people way more than appropriate, and he always got lost in his thoughts, not registering anything or anyone around him for hours at a time. Nobody knew what to expect from him at any given moment, which is what made your pulse pick up speed. You weren't necessarily afraid of him; Steve would kill himself before he ever deliberately hurt you, but you hated confrontation of any kind.

Steve took a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. Your brows furrowed as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, racking through your brain for something to say to diffuse the situation before it got too out of hand.

"Steve, I'm just... worried about you," you let out honestly.

"You haven't been sleeping... you haven't been eating as much as you should, you've been snapping at people who are just trying to help you..."

You caught the way his nostrils flared slightly at the last part, before he took another wide step in your direction. You took another step back. He did it again, but this time when you stepped back, you were met with the cool surface of the wall against you.

"Baby...," he says lowly, lowering his head to meet your eyes at the same level, "... do you, by any chance, think I'm overreacting? Or do you maybe not believe me?"

Clenching your teeth, you wanted nothing more than to reach your arms out and have him fall into them, but you knew it wasn't the right situation for it. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before speaking.

"No, you know I believe you. You know I'll always be by your side, right or wrong, it's just... you've been so preoccupied with this that it's changing you."

Steve's jaw tensed and he closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"I'm just so confused all the time," he whispered, just barely.

"I know, baby, I know," you cooed, and you brought your hands up to hold his face.

The minute your fingers made contact with his skin, he snapped.

"Stop saying you fucking know, Y/N!" he yelled, slamming the wall to the left of your head with each word, and your heart jumped. You flinched, drawing your hands into yourself immediately, turning your head away from his hand.

"You don't fucking know anything I'm going through, nobody does and I just want some goddamn answers!" he continued furiously.

You felt tears in your eyes and heard Steve take deep breaths. You didn't know what had shocked you more, the fact that Steve swore, the close proximity of his hand to your head or the fact that he had finally cracked, nonetheless, at you.

Your hands shook ever so slightly at your sides as you refused to open your eyes. Steve's labored breaths slowed, and you heard his hands slide down and off the wall. Feeling him step away from you, you opened your eyes just a bit. It was enough to see him looking at you with regret in his eyes. You saw the clarity flood them as his bottom lip trembled; he was about to cry at what he just did.

Your body filled with worry as you surged forwards, arms reaching out to him, but he held his own up and quickly moved away from you. You stood there, both of you worried, eyes filled with tears, hands held up in surrender and hopelessness. It was quiet. Quieter than what you were used to with Steve, and you didn't like it.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he brought one hand up to his hair, pulling at it, a habit he had when he was frustrated with himself. Turning his head away from you, he went to sit on the bed and rested his head in his hands.

You followed him. You knew he didn't plan for that to play out the way it did, so you weren't mad. But you also knew he was mad at himself now, for letting himself go that far. Feeling you come closer, Steve's head shot up from his hands and he quickly shook his head.

"No-" he choked out, holding his hand out to stop you from coming any nearer, afraid of hurting you. The sight of him made your heart hurt, and you felt cool air on the wet streaks your tears left behind on your face as you walked to stand straight in front of him, pushing his hand away.

He kept pushing you back with his hand, and you kept pushing it away from you, determined to hold him even if it was the last thing you'd ever do.

He let out continuous whimpers: "stop", "please don't", "I'm so sorry", "I can't-".

Your hands trembled as you pushed his hand away harder than before.

"Steven, fucking stop it," you said through clenched teeth, pushing at his hands, hating the way the two of you must've looked, and hating the way he was retreating into himself, too scared to even look you in the eyes.

You finally managed to drop to your knees in front of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and you rested your hands on his knees.

"Stevie, it's oka-," you started.

Cutting you off, he took a deep, trembling breath and slid off the bed. His legs on either side of you, head hanging low, he timidly ran his hands up your thighs and over your hips, bringing them to rest loosely on your waist. Grabbing his head and lifting it so you could look at him better, he let out a deep, pained whine when his eyes met your own.

"Everything is just so much," he whispered and brought his head forward to rest against your chest, moving his arms to wrap around your waist. Another wave of tears washed over you and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, placing a soft kiss to his hair.

"I'm just so tired," he whined out into your chest, the words vibrating deep in your soul, and you pinched your eyes shut to keep anymore new tears from falling.

Nodding silently, you stroked the back of his head softly.

You placed another kiss on his head, humming through it, rocking side to side slowly. He was going to beat himself up about this for a long, long time, you just knew it. Your travelled down to his back, tracing patterns on it as his breath steadied.

"It's okay... it's okay," you mumbled into his hair, barely audible, but the kisses you felt him leaving on your chest showed you he heard.

You sat there for an hour, rocking him back and forth, until he fell asleep.

You sat there for another as he slept, until your back was sore and your legs were numb.

You didn't care though, Steve had done the same and more for you countless of times. He was always there, as were you.

No, you didn't understand what he was going through, he was right about that part. But, feeling his body relax into yours, feeling the grip he had on your waist loosen, feeling his breath go steady, feeling the wet spots on your shirt where his tears had soaked through, you were determined to try.

[arvandus]

CONGRATS ON 500 OMG 🎉🎉🎉 IT'S MORE THAN DESERVED!!!!

Can I put in a request for All Might, #35 with a fluff ending?

Sooo.... I’m gonna be honest, I was so excited when I saw this request because.... angsty dialogue with a happy ending?  That shit is my jam.  And with All Might?  Perfect.

 A couple things before we get started: I went with All Might in his skinny form, cuz the prompt lends itself to that (so sorry if you were hoping for buff Might!) Also, took the artistic liberty of giving reader a healing quirk for this one called ‘Cat’s Cradle.’ You’ll (hopefully) see why it’s called that when you read it…

 I hope you enjoy, and sorry it’s taken so long to get this out!

 Um... Warnings: Blood (sorry, it’s Yagi... kinda a given), angst + happy ending

 Word Count: 3,223 and no regrets!

35. “I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

 There was a familiar knock at your door, and in an instant you knew exactly who it was.  Your teeth clenched, your jaw stiffened.

 You weren’t going to answer it. Not this time.

 Knock knock knock

 You waited, frozen, unwilling to move, yet listening intently.  The sound of wet, guttural coughing reverberated through the wooden barrier.

 God damn it.

 When it came to a certain world-famous hero, it didn’t really take much for you to give up your resolve.  You made your way to the door and peeked through the peephole.  Yagi supported himself with one hand against the door frame as his other hand clutched at his chest.  The front of his shirt was bunched in his grasp, blood coating his pale hands and the white fabric beneath it.  A curse fell from your lips as your hands unlatched the lock on your door, swinging it wide open.

 Yagi looked up at you with grateful blue eyes, sunken deep into dark pits. His wild, blond hair stuck to his ashen face with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.

 “Hey,” he greeted with a lighthearted grin.

 “Jesus Christ, Yagi…” you growled.

 You grabbed him by the elbow and ushered him into your space before closing and locking the door behind you.

 There was no time to rush him into the bathroom like you normally did.  Instead, you had him sit in a dining chair and began to peel off his blood-soaked shirt.  Just as the fabric lifted off his head, another round of coughing doubled him over, blood splattering the tiled floor.

 “Shit…” Yagi muttered.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You replied.  But it was hardly convincing.  Your tone was cold and hard with frustration.

 You weren’t mad about the floor, though… honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was the man currently looking like he was on Death’s doorstep.  It pained you to see him so clearly suffering, his skin covered in sweat and blood even as he tried to smile reassuringly at you.  It didn’t matter how bright his smile was; it held little weight against the scar carved into his side, or the atrophy that stretched over his bones.

 Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

 Gently, you pressed your hands against the front of Yagi’s shoulders until he was sitting up, back straight.  Even without his buff form, Yagi was tall.  With your body so close to his, you could feel his ragged breath on your cheek, hear the air rattling from his lungs like leaves.  You couldn’t help but look him in the eyes then, and a faint flush crept across his sallow cheeks that made your own skin feel hot.

 “Stay still.” You instructed.

 You carefully placed one hand in front of his chest and the other behind his back, your fingertips hovering over his body.  Glowing, translucent-white threads emanated from your fingers, passing through him to connect together deep within his lungs. Slowly, you began weaving, fingers dancing and flicking like a game of Cat’s Cradle as your quirk stitched and healed the damaged tissue.  It was painstaking work, what was left of his lungs already in poor condition, and the more he pushed himself past his limits, the harder it was to repair what he’d repeatedly broken.  Sweat beaded your brow as you worked, your hands moving meticulously.  One wrong move, one wrong stitch…

 But you’d done this countless times over the years.  It was nearly second nature to you now… you knew his body nearly as well as your own.  You stared at the glistening red staining from his lips to his chest as you worked, your vision blurred as you focused on your quirk’s senses.

 Slowly, you could hear Yagi’s ragged breaths begin to improve.  His gasps for air filled deeper into his chest, expanding his rib cage.  His exhales followed clean and steady.  The tension in his face relaxed, his brow smoothing over as he closed his eyes.

 Finally, you broke the connection and slumped into your own chair, exhaustion overtaking you.  It was far from perfect, but it was the best you could do given his level of deterioration. You watched Yagi take a few more deep, experimental breaths before he looked up at you.  You opened your mouth to scold him, your brow furrowed into a frown, but froze as soon as you saw his gentle expression become guarded as he prepared for your verbal onslaught.

 An ache filled your throat where your words were supposed to be, and you closed your mouth.  How easy it was to revert back to old habits when you were together.  The two of you were broken; the same old wounds seeping red because they were never given a chance to properly heal.

 You weren’t going to go through it again; not this time.  You were too tired.  And it wasn’t like it made much difference anyway.  It didn’t matter how much you begged, cried, or yelled.  Yagi wouldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.

Silence fell between you as you both stared at each other, the space between you feeling empty. No doubt your hurt was evident in your face, your body language, your eyes.  And if there was one thing you knew Yagi hated, it was seeing you upset.  He wanted to hold you.  You could see it in the way his body leaned towards you of its own accord, arms shifting just the slightest bit closer to your torso.  You could see the words on the edge of his tongue too, suspended between parted, bloodstained lips.

 Don’t. A part of you begged.  You didn’t want his comfort.  You didn’t want his excuses.

 Just as his mouth opened wider to speak, you averted your eyes and shifted your body away from him.  It was difficult – painful, as if you were a plant being pulled from the earth, fragile roots breaking in the soil.

 “You should go clean up.” You said quietly.

 Another long pause greeted you before he finally spoke.  “Yeah.  Okay.” He stood.  “Do you still have my clothes?”

 “Yeah. Dresser, bottom drawer.” You replied.

 Yagi excused himself, and a moment later you heard the sound of running water in the bathroom.  You stared at the bloodied floor and the stained shirt balled up on your table.  Nausea filled you, twisting your gut.

 Quickly, you grabbed your cleaning supplies and set to work, watching as the blood soaked into the white paper towels like an inkblot test.  Each fresh bloom of crimson spelled the foreshadowing you tried to erase, until you were wiping and scrubbing at the floor in frantic anger, tears dripping from your lashes.  It felt futile.  No matter how many paper towels you used, you always seemed to need more.

 By the end of it, the trash can was full, the roll noticeably smaller than when you had started.  You added Yagi’s ruined shirt to the top of the pile and stashed the bin away out of sight beneath your kitchen sink.  You’d take it out as soon as he left.  

 You could still hear the shower running in your bathroom, so you went to your living room and slouched onto your couch, waiting for Yagi to finish.

 You had hoped that cleaning up the mess would help reduce the severity from the situation, help you mask your growing fears.  But it was too late.  All you could see was red.  The red on his lips, the red on your floor, the red in the paper towels...

 The emotions you had hoped you could suppress until he left began to crest in you, and you vacated the living room in favor of the privacy of your bedroom. Maybe if you could let a few tears out during his shower, then you’d have enough composure until he left.  You curled onto your bed, your pillow clutched tightly in your arms as you buried your face into the plush fabric.

 For so long you’d held out, hoping that one day he’d understand.  That he’d see the damage to his body, see how quickly he was deteriorating.  That he’d see the fear in your eyes every time he showed up on your doorstep needing your help.  You’d hoped that your countless conversations would eventually amount to something, your words secretly unravelling the veil he chose to wear over his eyes as he fought battle after battle.

 It was that pesky, lingering hope that had been keeping you going.  Hope that eventually, there’d be an end to it all. Hope that Yagi could finally stop killing himself for the sake of the greater good.  Hope that the two of you could eventually pick up where you’d fallen and live a happy life.

 And it was hope that made you open the door for him each time.

 But now, that hope was finally gone.  You were done trying.  You realized it as soon as you’d finally given up talking to him – finally given up trying to save him.

 An emptiness took its place, cold and heavy.  Its absence gave no place for your love to nest, no place for your dreams to take root.  All you had left was the heavy, gut-wrenching reality that eventually, inevitably, you’d lose him.  Either he’d die in battle, or worse… He’d show up at your doorstep, his body beyond repair, and the only thing you’d be able to do is hold him as his lungs filled with blood.

 Your chest constricted so tightly at that single, horrible thought that you couldn’t even breathe, your lungs burning in a frantic need for oxygen.  There was nothing in the world worse than that single moment coming to life.  But you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t run from it.  It sat there, as real and permanent as the blood-soaked rags lurking in your kitchen trash.  You tried to suck air into your lungs, but the knot in your throat didn’t allow it, a suffocating sob lodged like a rock.  Your arms tightened around your pillow.

 You were going to lose him.  And there was nothing you could do about it.

 Grief settled itself onto your shoulders, heavy as an anchor.  Grief for a future that could never be. Grief for the death of a love that never fully had a chance to bloom. Grief for a man who would eventually slip through your fingers to become bones and dust, leaving nothing but the ache of his memory upon your soul.  You buckled under its weight, the heavy sob finally spilling from your parted lips as tears soaked into your pillow.

 You didn’t even notice as Yagi entered the room to find you curled up in your bed, sobbing.

 “Hey…” He whispered as he rushed over.

 His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you up against his bony chest, your head tucked under his chin.

 “Hey, hey…” he soothed as he held you.

 You leaned into his embrace, letting his presence envelop you.  Maybe you should have fought it; pushed him away instead of letting yourself indulge.  But it felt too good, too safe, and your arms tightened around him selfishly as you cried.  It brought back familiar memories of a time when the two of you had been happy, surrendering to your feelings for each other, before it all fell apart.  

 God, how you missed this.  Love had never been the issue for the two of you.  No, that was the easy part.  But it wasn’t enough.  Not when all of Japan rested on his shoulders, leaving little space for you no matter how deeply he cared for you.

 He held you as you cried, silently holding the space for you, his arms a safety net for all of the emotional weight you couldn’t carry alone.  Your tears soaked his shirt, your arms wound tight around his ribs, as you wished for nothing more than the power to change what was.

 “I don’t want to lose you…” you sobbed.

 “You won’t.” He replied.

 His words were meant to be comforting, but their effect was the opposite, making your heart ache even more at his inability to address the issue head on. He always was an optimist when it came to things of the heart.  It was part of what made him such a great hero.  But optimism wouldn’t save either of you here.

 You pulled away from him slightly, already missing the closeness of him.

 “Don’t…” you pleaded.  “Don’t do that.”

 Yagi looked down at your tear-stained face.  “Do what?”

 Quietly, you grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on your nightstand and wiped at your nose.  The material crumpled into a ball within your fist and you stared at it, your vision already blurring with fresh tears.

 “Don’t try to give me hope.” You replied.

 Yagi stared with wide eyes before withdrawing his arms. His expression fell, wounded by the truth in your honesty.  

 You struggled not to let it sway you.

 “I… I can’t keep doing this.” You whispered as you wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “Every time you show up on my doorstep, you’re worse than before. I won’t always be able to help you.”

 He watched you in silence for a moment before looking away in shame, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he leaned forward.  “I know.” He replied.

 Regret filled you at rejecting him.  You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. To have his presence surround you. To feel him alive beneath you, whole and here.  But you had to set a boundary.  You had to stop following him, stop hoping… if you didn’t, it would destroy you.

 Instead, you sat with your arms wrapped around yourself, a pitiful defense against the familiar allure of the man next to you.

 “You keep wanting me to save you, Yagi… but how can I save you if you won’t save yourself?”  You looked at him then, your eyes locking with his.  “You keep choosing to fight, to push yourself well past your limits. And you keep coming here, because you know that I still love you and won’t turn you away.”

 Yagi sucked air into his lungs, his posture going stiff at your words. You were right.  He knew you were right.  His inability to counter your statement was evidence enough of that.  Disappointment and guilt filled you as you broke eye contact to look at your shaking hands.

 “But… I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself. And you shouldn’t expect me to.” You whispered.

 The words were heavy, filling the empty space between you with their finality. You refused to look at Yagi; you knew he’d be hurt.  You knew his shoulders would slump in defeat, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.  Guilt filled you, making your hands fidget and your shoulders tense as you waited for his response.

 “You’re right.”

 His words were a whisper and your eyes snapped up to stare at him, bewilderment on your face.  He’d never said those words to you before... not about this.  His mask had cracked, and you could finally see his emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to transform them into words.  Remorse. Panic. Love. Fear.

 He cleared his throat and repeated himself.  “You’re right.  I have asked a lot of you.” His brow furrowed.  “I don’t know why I keep coming back.  I guess I just get… homesick.”

 Your breath hitched in your throat as your heart pounded like a battle drum in your chest.  You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen from you when Yagi’s eyes met yours, deep and familiar.

 “I miss you.” He stated.

 “Yagi...” You cupped his cheek in your hand.  He leaned into it briefly, before removing your hand from his face and holding it within his own.

 “Listen... I... didn’t intend to come here for your help.  Not this time.  But you know how these things are...” He explained.  “I was on my way over when a villain showed up, and...” Yagi’s words faltered as he saw the expression on your face begin to fall.  He was doing it again, getting caught up in his work, making excuses... hurting you.

 He cleared his throat. “It’s... not important.  The point is, is that there was something I wanted to tell you.  But... I’m not sure it’ll make much of a difference.” He averted his gaze, his brows pulled together pensively.

 Your own brow furrowed in response, confused by his ambiguity.  A part of you was hesitant... you’d truly felt that you were done, that you’d reached your limit.  But could tell that whatever it was, it was important to him, and it was something that he wanted to share specially with you.

 “Just... tell me.” You said quietly, as you emotionally braced yourself.

 His blue eyes looked back at you, and he took a steady breath.  “Alright...”  He took your other hand in his own.  Now he held both of your hands between you as he sat with you on your bed.  “I... found a successor.”

 Your eyes widened, as you felt overcome with dizziness.  You were lightheaded, suddenly floating on his words that still lingered in the air like morning mist.

 “W... what??” you choked out.  Your heart pounded wildly as your hands gripped his, the warm, firm touch barely grounding you.

 “I found a successor.” He repeated, a slow smile starting to spread across his lips at your dumbfounded reaction.

 A smile began to spread across your lips.  “Does that mean... you’re retiring?”

 “Yeah-”

 Your lips were on his before he could say anything more, your arms flinging themselves around his neck.  He laughed against your lips as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap.

 You pulled away for a moment and stared into his eyes. They sparkled with mirth, blue as a summer’s day.

 “Well, that went better than I expected...” Yagi teased.

 “Tell me it’s true.  You’re really done?” you asked.

 “Well, I still have to train my apprentice... he’s got a big heart and a strength in him that I don’t think he even realizes he has yet.  But it’s going to take some time for him to learn how to wield all that power.”  Yagi’s expression turned from happy to serious.  “And... I have to admit that I can’t retire just yet.”

 You opened your mouth to protest, but he covered your lips with his finger.

 “Hang on a second, firecracker.” He grinned.  “I will retire. But I still have remnants of One For All in me, and I need to protect this kid until he’s able to master that power.  I’ll still be All Might until that last spark leaves me. I’m sure you understand that much, right? I have a responsibility to him.”

 You brushed aside his long bangs, relishing in the feel of the golden locks between your fingers.  Of course, you understood.  You’d never expected it to be immediate anyway.  But at least things were in motion.  All he had to do was survive.  And if Yagi was good at anything, it was surviving.

 You had to believe in him.

 “Yeah...” you whispered.  “I understand.”

 Now it was Yagi’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

 You smiled and kissed him again.  “Really.”

 You had hope.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 11: ON THE CASE

Word Count: 3369 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Content Warnings: swearing, references to violence (canon-typical) Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Normalcy || Masterlist

A/N: Sorry it’s taken me so long, my loves. This chapter was rough. And I’m not a mystery writer, so I can only hope it satisfies.

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

“So,” Diego said around a mouthful of cereal, absently scratching Duncan’s head with his other hand. “Who exactly are we looking for?”

“John Miller. Assistant archivist at City Hall,” you explained stirring your coffee. “He plays pool with my fence and a few others on Thursdays. I mentioned I was looking for a big score with a flexible timeline, something to work on in the background between things. He put us in touch.”

“And you’re sure it was Miller that sold us out?”

“He’s the only option.” You shrugged.

“What about Derek?” Diego offered, frowning. 

You froze, staring at him, agape for a moment.

“No. No way,” you shook your head. “The only person I’ve known longer is my brother, and maybe yours. There’s no way he would do that. I trust him.”

Duncan whined, sensing your distress and circling the counter to press himself against your leg instead of Diego’s. You absently placed your hand on top of the dog’s head, comforting him if not yourself. 

“I just had to ask. Cover all our bases,” Diego said, trying to placate you.

You glared for a moment, before deflating with a sigh. “I know…”

“Other than city hall, do you have any leads?”

“No…” you admitted. “But if he’s not at his office, maybe someone there will know where to find him. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Maybe...this is a mistake and we should just leave it…”

Diego frowned. He’d never known you to just give up, not for anything. And yet, he had been hoping you would, scared for your safety and how things might play out. 

“That’s a change from what you’ve been saying,” he observed cautiously. 

“I know but...if Miller ratted us out, and Reginald hired extra security, the kind that use real guns and shoot first, don’t ask questions...what if he also did something to...silence loose ends?”

You hated that you were suggesting it, didn’t know if it was even probable. But you had to say it out loud. You just hoped that by calling him Reginald and not Diego’s father, it would make the suggestion seem less horrible, although it didn’t seem to be working well on yourself.

“Isn’t that all the more reason to keep looking? If someone is hurt, or dead, because of my father, and we’re the only ones who can put those pieces together, we have a duty, don’t we?”

You chewed nervously on your lip. “I...you’re probably right.”

“I could go alone if you’re worried?” he offered. “You’d be safe that way.”

“Diego,” you sighed, fixing him with a level look. “That makes no sense. I’m worried that this is too dangerous for the two of us together, why the hell would I let you do it alone?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Are you trying to reverse psychology me?” you gaped at him, scandalized. 

He shrugged. “Did it work?”

“You don’t have to convince me to do anything, Diego. I’m not going to give up, even if we probably should.”

“Good. But, we should be on our guard.”

“Are we ever not?”

“Even more on our guard than usual,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

~

City Hall proved to be a quick dead end; the only thing John Miller had left behind was an office that looked like it had never been used.

“There must be something,” you fumed, running your fingers anxiously through your hair as you paced the empty room. “This can’t be it.”

“We could try asking? Or find a phone book?” Diego suggested, shrugging. 

“We’re going to need more to go on than a name when it’s as common as John Miller. There’s probably twenty of them in the area.”

“Good point. Trash can.” Diego pointed to the unassuming bin under the desk.

“What?” You frowned at him in confusion.

People always forget to empty the trash can, and throw out all kinds of things. Like receipts.”

“Worth a shot.” You sighed, circling around to kneel down and take a peek inside. 

Diego was right that when trying to erase the fact he’d ever existed, Miller had forgotten that little detail. But it didn’t look at first glance like it would be all that helpful, just old napkins and cigarette butts. You grumbled something about him being a fire hazard and sighed, resigning yourself to rooting through. 

“Jackpot,” you muttered before tossing a balled up receipt for ‘May’s Clean-n-Dry’ to Diego. “Think we can do something with that?”

“It’ll narrow things down at least.”

“Great. Then let’s get out of here. We’ve hung around too long already.”

~

It took several more hours, before you were able to narrow down from a radius near the dry cleaner’s to an exact address. The sun was setting as you approached the unassuming brick-faced building. You scowled at it, almost annoyed that for something likely so important it looked so...ordinary.

“So he lives on the second floor,” you said, reviewing the notes you had jotted down throughout the day. “Alone. We should split up and approach from multiple angles, in case this is a trap.”

“No. We go in together,” Diego argued. 

“Diego, be reasonable. I don’t like it either. But we both know it’s the best way to do this.”

“Y/N…” he frowned, expression deepening at your determined and somewhat annoyed look in return. “Fine. But I’m going in the front door. If he’s there and expecting trouble that’s where he’ll expect it from.”

“I’d argue with you about being overprotective, but that was already my plan anyway.”

You leaned over and kissed him swiftly, trying to comfort him and sooth your own nerves, seeking some sort of reassurance in it that the two of you, together, could handle anything that might come. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, clinging to you and answering your emotion with his own desperation and need. 

“Showtime?” you asked when you parted finally, quirking an eyebrow at him and smirking excitedly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice quiet. 

You slipped out of the car, immediately wrapping your powers around you to blur the sight as you crossed the street and circled the building. It wasn’t hard to find a fire escape and open window, slipping inside and crouching in the shadows to wait for some sign of Diego. Glancing around, you noticed that the apartment looked like it had been tossed, clothing and personal belongings scattered.

The front door creaked open and Diego slipped inside, freezing immediately as you heard a sound from the next room. 

Suddenly, Miller burst through, not noticing either of you as he tossed the room further, like he was looking for something.

“John Miller?” Diego asked, stepping into the center of the room and making the other man freeze, wide-eyed. 

“Are you here to kill me?” he asked, strangely calm. 

“Now why would we do that, John?” you asked, leaning against the sill you had just come through.

He shrieked, jumping to look at you, fists raised. You watched him standing there, trembling, and frowned, casting a look over at Diego.

“B-b-because of the robbery. The warehouse. You’re mad it was a setup, right?”

“You knew?” Diego snapped, pulling a knife. You rolled your eyes and waved for him to stand down.

“Now why would you sell me out John?” you cocked your head. “Seeing as I’ve never done anything to you.”

“It wasn’t me! Please you have to believe me! The old man came to me!”

“What old man?” Diego snapped. “Tell us everything.”

“No. No. I can’t. I have to get out of here! We all have to get out of here!”

You were starting to suspect that John was going to cry, or piss himself. He was terrified, certainly not the sort of man you had expected. He didn’t seem like the sort to be a criminal mastermind, or even an informant. Something wasn’t adding up, again, and you were starting to get really angry about it.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “You got in over your head, obviously. And you’re scared. Talk and maybe we can help you.”

“You can’t. No one can.” He shook his head. “He’s going to kill me.”

“We can protect you,” Diego offered, holding out his hands placatingly. “You just have to tell us everything.”

“No. No one can protect me. You least of all.”

“We can,” you insisted. “If you just calm down and tell us exactly what happened.”

“You don’t understand. He paid me a lot of money to bring the plans to you. To get you to break in. Not just any thief. He told me your name, where to find you, who to contact. He wanted you.”

“He...what?” Diego asked, voice catching.

“What was his name?” you forced out past the lump of fear in your throat.

“You did what he wanted. I know too much. I’m a loose end. I know how this works. Now if you’re not going to kill me, I have to get out of here. I have to hide. Maybe he won’t find me. But I have to go.”

“What. was. his. name?” you asked. You knew the answer. But you needed to be sure, to hear it. 

“Hargreeves.”

“Fuck,” you sighed.

Diego looked pale, like he might be sick. You felt the same. 

“Get out of here,” he told Miller, shaking his head. 

~

“Just trust me, alright?” you asked, holding Diego’s gaze. “We’re not going to engage, we’re not going to do anything risky. Just take a quick look around and see what we see.”

“No. Y/N. It’s too dangerous. And what if we find something?”

“Then...I don’t know. we should probably go to Eudora? You said yourself that we’re the only ones who can make this connection, so we have to do something. Right?”

He was chewing nervously on his lip, a habit you were pretty sure he’d picked up from you at some point. 

“But he’s also your father, and I get it if that makes this complicated for you…”

“Going to the police will mean we have to explain how we know. And having something concrete.”

“That’s why I said Dora, specifically. She’ll be more understanding than most. Maybe she’ll be able to help us swing it so that we don’t end up in jail too. Either way, that’s assuming we can figure out exactly what’s going on.”

“We won’t find anything sitting out here. Let’s go.”

The pair of you stayed in the car, parked across the street from the infamous Umbrella Academy for another several minutes.

Diego, you could tell, was nervous to reenter the place he’d grown up in and left behind long ago. There were so many memories within those four stone walls for him, and most of them were bad. You almost expected him to balk at the last moment and ask that you go alone. And you had made contingencies in your mind for just that purpose. But Diego was never one to run from a fight. 

You, on the other hand, were terrified to potentially confront your father and brother in law, for both Diego’s sake and your own. You hoped that the building was empty, or that the only beings inside were Diego’s mom and...whatever one classified Pogo as (and you weren’t sure that wasn’t “your husband is pulling your leg about just how weird it was growing up in that house”). But none of your luck had been good so far, so it seemed like too much to hope. 

“We should get going…in there and...g-get it over with...” Diego said haltingly. 

“We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I can come back alone or something,” you rushed to assure him, catching his stutter immediately. 

He shook his head. “No. Let’s finish this.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze while the other fell to the door handle. He returned the gesture with a strained smile and a determined glint in his eye. Without speaking, it was like the pair of you counted to three, synchronizing. 

The Academy towered over you both, casting a looming shadow even from across the street. You swallowed and set about to work. 

~

“Diego?” a voice said, stopping your husband short. Slowly you both turned toward the door on your right. “What are you doing here? Who’s she?”

“Is Dad here, Luther?” Diego asked instead of answering questions. 

“No, he should be home soon. Don’t try to tell me you’re here to see him though. I know that’s not true.”

“No. We’re looking for answers.” 

Luther seemed more confused than combative. You let your eyes wander over your brother-in-law’s large form and decided that was probably for the best.

“Answers? Answers to what?” his voice raised slightly. 

You practically feel the way Diego tensed beside you, his hand subtly dropping to one of his knives. You stretched your fingers to dance over his and try to get him to ease off, for now.

“Diego, what’s going on? And you still haven’t answered who she is.” Luther pointed a finger accusingly at you.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, offering a smile and stepping forward to shake Luther’s hand, only to retreat when he shifted as if expecting you to launch an attack. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Diego,” you didn’t like the tone of Luther’s voice now, a warning, or a scolding maybe. 

“We don’t have time to explain Luther. We just need to take a look around before Dad gets back.”

“No. Not unless you tell me why.”

“I...had a run in with some guys that tried to kill me,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “I have reason to believe your father might be involved, and convinced Diego to help me...snoop.”

“You've always been selfish, Diego,” Luther snapped, face darkening in anger and disbelief, and Diego scowled back, “but this is a new low. I can't believe you'd turn on us for some girl.”

“She is not just 'some girl', Luther!” Diego had drawn his knife in a blink and pointed the tip of it at his brother. 

You flinched. You didn’t want it to come to a fight between brothers. Even if Diego probably could handle it physically, and pretend he was fine with it emotionally, it didn’t seem right to you. 

Luther scoffed disbelievingly. 

“She’s my wife. I love her, I have to protect her. We…” Diego hesitated, afraid of how easily the words felt like they could roll off his tongue. “We’re family.”

“What would you know about family? You ran away from yours as soon as you could!”

“We didn’t have a family growing up. This, between Y/N and I, is real, not forced because our father thought it would make us easier to control.”

“What exactly makes her so special?”

“Y/N sees me. I’ve never been a number to her, or our last name. I’m just me. And she cares about me, flaws and all. She’s been here for me no matter what. She makes me happy. Really happy.”

“And that’s enough?”

“What else is there?” you asked softly, shrugging apologetically. 

Luther turned his glare on you. “I wasn’t asking you.”

“Don’t talk to her like that, Luther,” Diego warned. “I made a decision. Now get out of our way.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me do this, Number One. I will.”

He shifted into a different stance, one you recognized from the boxing ring when he wanted to taunt his opponents and look weaker than he really was. Luther seemed to take the bait, raising his fists, and the two brothers circled each other slowly in the foyer of that house.

You stepped back, neither of them seeming to notice you anymore. Your heart fluttered, and nervously you wondered if you should stay in case Diego needed your help. Part of you wanted to step in and put a stop to it, to remind them that they were family too and should be on the same side. 

But then your logical mind kicked back in. The watchdog was distracted. Now was going to be your best, probably your only, chance to slip away and look for answers. If you moved quickly, everything would be fine. You rationalized that this was probably part of Diego’s plan, and you slipped away.

Most of the house was just empty rooms, storage and old bedrooms, places that hadn’t been lived in in years. You passed one with drawings on the walls, chicken scratch and frantic pen and wondered whose mind had been so excited that they couldn’t look for paper (you had your suspicions though). Another with scuff marks in the door and holes in the walls, as surely Diego’s as anything you’d ever seen. 

‘At least now he uses a board to practice,’ you thought, smiling softly.

Passing further down the hall, you found a back stairwell and followed it up, circling around a balcony strewn with memorabilia of the famed Umbrella Academy and of the exploits of Reginald Hargreeves. You scowled. The whole building was a monument, a museum of one man’s ego and you wanted to light it all on fire.

Reigning in your temper, you tried one of the doors on the upper level, easing it open to reveal a cluttered space that was quite clearly a study. 

“Alright, Reginald. Tell me your secrets. It’s the least you can do,” you breathed, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you. 

Immediately, you went to the desk, piled high with papers and journals. There was too much to stop and read. You needed more to go on, so you started leafing through, looking for some sort of system or organizational mark. You swore under your breath after a few minutes of hunting. Of course there was nothing that straight-forward. He was too smart for that. 

Just as you were considering giving up, you found a folder full of papers stamped with D.S. Umbrella Co. letterhead. Most of them were just lists: dates, locations, item descriptions, something you thought might be crate numbers or license plates, names. You frowned, tugging at your lower lip as you read through them, looking for something. On one page, the date a few months prior, was the name of someone you recognized as a missing person. But there was so little else to go on. Still, you pulled it out and shoved it in your coat pocket, planning to take it and study it in more detail later. 

You returned the rest of the folder to the drawer and straightened to go. Then something you had missed before caught your eye and you paused.

Underneath a pile of what appeared to be invoices for building materials and construction equipment, you found a journal, red-leather embossed with the letters RH, apparently hastily hidden. Easing it carefully out, trying to disturb everything around it as little as possible to cover that you had found it, you flipped the obviously important book open and began to read. 

First was a list of locations, some crossed out, some with initials or marks next to them, and eight circled, including one you recognized as your parents’ home address. Your jaw clenched angrily and you kept reading, finding notations about which children he had found, how’d he’d acquired them, and added in a different ink at another time their numbers and abilities. Skimming a few more pages, you realized that this book was full of observations about the seven children and their raising/training. A chill ran down your spine when you realized that there were also notes about you. Eventually you shook yourself, trying to absorb the information was taking too much time, and irrelevant to the matter at hand. 

Flipping to the end, you scanned the last entries. Much of it was in code, and you growled in frustration, but one date caught your attention: your wedding date. Starting there, you began to study and puzzle through every entry, wishing you had a pen and paper to help you. 

Before you could get very far, a hand fell on your shoulder and you gasped, spinning around to defend yourself. 

Instead, you felt rooted in your spot by the cold glare of Reginald Hargreeves. 

[sugarstarlights]

🍁 Was Mads made into a puppet once? Can you expand on/summarize those events, if so? Is that where the complicated relationship with trees comes from?

((This is a Great question, and I'd love to.

The complicated thing about Mads' puppet experiences is that they happened in the part of the timeline that I wrote in high school, on a private rp site, 1 on 1. I didn't necessarily pick up from the beginning of his story on here, because he was developed enough that I didn't want to restart. I would've maybe put up some sections of that for context but things went wrong with my rp partner and I'm not comfortable displaying their writing or content.

In response to the actual question though, here was the series of events:

Mads was a constant liar. I wouldn't say it was habit or instinct, they were very conscious choices. The first time he met Sarandiel, they claimed he deserved a punishment to learn not to do that so much, and altered his soul to lengthen his nose when he lied and shrink it when he was emotionally honest. At the time, the astral plane was damaged, and the affects of voices' soul essences was affecting their souls on the material plane as well. What was supposed to be an extra punishment only on the astral plane, while he was asleep, turned into a real-life issue that Sarandiel just sort of went "oopsie!" over and didn't bother to immediately fix. (This was also somewhat intentional.)

His body began to gradually turn into wood. Sometimes it hurt, when it transformed his joints, mostly it was horribly numb, but it was a slow, awful experience that he tried hiding from people until he couldn't. When it had almost taken him entirely, Seculus came to make sure he wasn't alone when he may or may not have died. Obviously he didn't, and they stayed, and that was the start of his first healthy relationship.

Aside from that though he was a wooden marionette for about a month before Sarandiel bothered to do anything. Still capable of movement and speech, but he couldn't taste, touch, smell, or sleep, and obviously didn't pass for a human. This left him listless, hollow, alone, and constantly desperate for sensation for a long enough period of time that it was intensely traumatizing. He spent a lot of time sitting around perfectly still, looking like an actual puppet, since there was really no point in doing anything. There was a separate event during this that began the objectification issue, but I'll go into that another time.

Once it was over, Mads had certainly learned his lesson, alongside a newfound terror of Sarandiel, and it didn't come up again until he fixed the astral plane, which is where the tree thing came in.

In order to complete the task, Sarandiel pumped a lot of their energy through him to make his power stronger. In the process, intentionally or not (definitely intentionally), Mads turned into wood again, a marionette but this time with internal machinery and a winding key that he couldn't move without being turned and couldn't turn himself. This was only on the astral plane, but after the fix time began to move strangely there, and, of course, when it all happened, he was in the middle of a forest he'd just created, on his hands and knees, fingers in the dirt. Once again Sarandiel just kind of left him there, and every night, for what felt like days at a time, he would sit trapped, silent, numb, completely still, unable to look away from the single tree growing in front of him. Trapped with nothing but forest sounds and his thoughts for extended periods of time, never getting a break between this and his waking hours. He nearly went nuts trying not to sleep, but it was inevitable, and eventually his somewhat broken mind taught itself to shut down completely, going empty and quiet until something actually happened; he calls this "turning off", and this is what happened in the forest the other day, though less intentionally than normal.

There's another part to the tree thing, however, and that's the objectification. Once he began seeing himself as an object, he came to the conclusion that puppet = wood = tree. And as a piece of wood stuck permanently in place, for a long time, and then used as a tool, that made him a tree, or at least similar to one. He began personally relating to towers of wood stuck in the forest doing and thinking nothing, only to be used by animals and carpenters, and started getting stuck in a similar thought process to that whenever he thought about trees for too long.

These were the major, initiating events, but he was turned into wood several other times as well, including while using this blog. Once Seculus left, he remained wooden on the astral plane as he assisted Sarandiel with the tasks they required him to perform with his powers. Repeatedly after that, as punishment, either for disobeying, actively running away, or defying their attempts to change him mentally, he would be puppet-ified again for shorter periods of time to try and scare him straight. It generally worked, honestly.

Most of the results of these experiences are very visible in his behaviors, triggers, and habits, and the frequency of his puppet transformations are the reason why he occasionally and falsely believes his body is wood again, especially his hands, as it could happen at any moment and he doesn't fully believe that he isn't still a puppet underneath his angel skin. The complete numbness of the experience fucked him up, and is the source of his problems with dissociation, as he never really felt like he had a body at all, and when he did, it certainly wasn’t his own. As well, the bodily transformation, being a direct change to his soul by the god who has explicit power over the alteration of souls, has convinced him that it isn't only temporary, that he is permanently and inherently a marionette, and that's part of the reason why it's stuck with him as strongly as it has.

His puppet side and its effects on him are a part of the plot that I find incredibly interesting and like to explore whenever I can, but unfortunately there's only so many times you can dig up the same half-dead horse, and the last time I tried to do so didn't go very well.

[sooave]

The Problem With Wanting: 1

It’s 2026, and an old celebrity crush comes to haunt your old and cynical heart. You’re doing great at pretending you were never obsessed with him, and finding things about him that you don’t like. Until you’re repeatedly forced to work with him. Until he decides that he’s in love with you.

Genre: I really don’t know what to call this, but it’s not an AU, Kyungsoo’s older and still a celebrity, and it’s friends-to-lovers.

Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader 

Length: 2,314 words

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn 

Part 1 | Part 2

The problem with wanting, was that the human brain’s pathways are more easily activated for desire, rather than liking. In other words, humans naturally want things more than they actually like them. Obviously, you didn’t fault anyone for that. You knew that humans are all victims of the mechanisms of their biological systems.

Just like how you never blamed your own body for being frustratingly uncooperative when it was exactly a week before your period.

Just like how you didn’t fault Do Kyungsoo at all for confessing to you, and asking you to be his girlfriend. You knew that he just wanted you. Now if he actually had you, he’d certainly be disappointed. No, his brain would be disappointed.

Being single at age 30 was surprisingly easy for you, considering the fact that it practically made you a spinster in Asian society. Your parents’ one saving grace was that they immigrating to North America, and brought you in tow. When you returned to Korea as a full-fledged adult with a string of ex-boyfriends and old jobs behind you, it was increasingly apparent to you that Korean society was at times lovely, but hugely flawed.

Back home, the Korean aunties that your mother would bring home no longer gave a shit about the fact that you were, God forbid, an artist. And an unmarried and childless one to boot. Their own children had put them through a fair share of self-perceived grievances already, and while most of them were still conservative at heart, they knew that they lived in a society where their values weren’t necessarily correct. You knew that they didn’t all understand that their values were straight up incorrect. But at least you didn’t get harassed about your life choices.

Coming back to build a career in your birth country had you encountering situations that made you laugh and feel uncomfortable at the same time.

“You’re self-employed? How are you ever going to find yourself a husband?” You’d tell them that being your own boss in fact made your schedule much more flexible. And that you fill up the time with pursuits that actually improved your life, like cooking and yoga. Not shitty dates with people you couldn’t connect with.

Of course, the nosy aunties would continue heavily implying that your life’s purpose was to find a good husband, carry your bloodline, and take care of the home.

“Thirty?? You should have had two kids by now?” You would politely inform them that you weren’t interested in having children, and if you did, you’d adopt an orphan in need instead.

“There won’t be any good men left at this point! You’re in trouble now.” This one, you couldn’t really argue with. You were a firm believer that if someone was single for an extended period of time, there was a reason.

Most of the time, they were a shitty person. Other reasons? Nursing a heartbreak. Pining after someone unattainable. Obsessed with their career. Etcetera.

And you?

You didn’t have your priorities straight. But after a countless number of bad dates, bad relationship, mediocre relationships, and some okay ones, you kind of had an idea of what you didn’t want in a boyfriend. You were doing just peachy by yourself, for now at least.

Sure, maybe you’d want to find a life partner eventually. That would come naturally. You were also a firm believer in the fact that the best matches are found organically.

But surprisingly to you, one of the blind dates that you’d begrudgingly gone on 3 years ago was actually bearing some fruitful benefits. Your date was an assistant PD at one of the largest entertainment companies in Seoul. He was a decent guy, but was insistent about being the sole provider for his future wife. That obviously didn’t check out with you.

Luckily, he didn’t hold a grudge against you for cutting your third dinner date short once you learned of that particular value, and even suggested you as an artist for several show segments. Today, your expertise was blackboard art. Other days, it was digital painting, or watercolours. But they all focused on food illustrations.

Seung-woo, your ex-date, had a particularly annoying habit of talking your ear off while you were working. For some reason, he assumed that the several hours you spent slaving away with your arm raised over the chalk board was the perfect time to catch up with you and ramble on about his love life.

“And then, she started ordering the spicy chicken even though I had explicitly mentioned that I had an upset stomach! Really. The nerve of her.”

“Oh…” you hummed disinterestedly as you filled in the grey base colour of the fish that you were drawing for the background of this board. Apparently, some professional chef along with a celebrity guest were going to be in the kitchen today filming an episode on ways to cooking methods for fish in Korean cuisine. This particular series was something you’d seen before while you were living in the U.S., and while you felt that Korea was a bit slow on the uptake, at least they were doing something interesting with it. You didn’t get to see a lot of Korean traditional cooking methods on American-owned YouTube channels.

“So… we’re going on a second date tonight. What should I say?”

If you were in America, you would have already told Seung-Woo off for disrupting your work and being a total wuss. But this was Korea, and you couldn’t really afford to offend the very person who got you this job contract. Plus, gossip travelled like wildfire, and soon you’d be labelled as difficult to work with and saying bye-bye to your steady income.

You had to take a deep breath and set down your chalk, in fear of snapping it in annoyance.

“Did that tell you something?”

Seung-woo set down the kitchen prop that he was playing around with onto the counter.

“Tell me what?” He echoed.

“Did her action of ordering the spicy chicken tell you that she had an undesirable trait that you cannot accept from a partner?” Your tone was bordering on one that a disapproving teacher would take when reprimanding a student, but luckily Seung-woo didn’t catch that.

He wasn’t as taken aback by your mannerisms as he used to be, but ever since you explained that you spent all of your formative years abroad, he was able to rationalize all of your non-conservative behaviours.

Instead, he actually thought of your advice and comments as thoughtful and interesting. You always refrained from mentioning that your perspective came from years of counselling and therapy, in fear that he’d label you as psychotic. Seung-woo had no idea what mental health was.

After a round of hums and haws, he finally responds.

“You’re right, it did. Are you trying to say I shouldn’t go on the date tonight?”

“Hey, I just asked a question. You came to that conclusion your self!” You turn around and throw a dirty rag that you’ve been using into his chest.

That finally got him to leave you alone, after whining about your aggressiveness and how unladylike you were. Luckily, you still had plenty of time to finish the piece, and once the annoyance hindering your progress was gone, the flow started to come naturally to you.

Time began to fly by as it usually did when you were absorbed with your artwork. Before you knew it, it was already time for the segment filming to start. It wasn’t everyday that you timed your work perfectly, but today you hit the deadline exactly.

You knew that the filming was about to begin because of the camera lights had began to turn on, and a buzz of conversation had started to grow in the centre of the room. Sometimes it irked you that you were working right in front of a dozen cameras and microphones, but it was comforting to know that they had absolutely zero interest in filming you.

Seung-woo had unfortunately appeared again, appearing behind you like a golden retriever wagging it’s tail. You were packing up boxes chalk into your carrying case, attempting to ignore him as much as possible, but something he said caught your attention.

“Wait. What? Who?” You had absolutely no idea what he had said, except for the fact that a horribly familiar name fell from his lips.

“Do Kyungsoo. You don’t know of him?”

“No, I do…” Too well, in fact.

“Well, he’s here right now. I could get you an autograph if you wanted too. Just ask your oppa nicely!” He shot you a shit-eating grin and you almost want to strangle him amidst the absolute panic you were experiencing.

You weren’t experiencing a real panic attack, thankfully. But the way your hands were shaking as you placed each piece of chalk back into it’s designated slotted groove gave away that you were one-hundred-percent losing your mind. As your heart raced in your chest, you did a mental checklist of the facts that faced you right now.

You were, or you used to be, absolutely obsessed with Do Kyungsoo as a celebrity. This was back in your late teens, when you were a freshman at college.

You had not thought about him, or even looked up his name, in almost 5 years. Real life got in the way. And your cynicism.

And he was right here.

In this very room.

Suddenly, your brain was kicked into hyper-awareness mode, and it was almost impossible to resist the urge to finger comb your hair and smooth out your clothes. Fuck. You weren’t even wearing a cute outfit. Today had been a boyfriend jeans and black t-shirt day for you.

Seung-woo was still standing in front of you, looking at you expectantly, and you reminded yourself that you had to actually respond.

“Er… no. I’m good, Seung-woo,” you rolled your eyes at him, “What makes you think that I’d want an autograph? You do remember that I’m an old hag right?”

He noticed that you were having difficulty stuffing your chalk boxes back into your bag, and leans down to help you.

“Who said that you can’t have celebrity crushes at age 30? I wouldn’t shame you for that. Plus, you’re still single…” Seung-woo waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my lord,” You mutter in English to yourself, before switching to Korean.

“Idols are for the young or the delusional. Plus, they’re just regular ol’ people just like me. You take anyone with a bit of talent and a decent face and I’m sure they could pass as an idol.” This is a mantra you’ve repeated to yourself almost a million times, and it rolls off your tongue.

“God, you’re always so cynical…ah!” Seung-woo stands up to greet someone and leaves you struggling with your bag on the floor.

“No, I’m just old,” you said to yourself as you right yourself.

And then you come face to face with a profile that you’ve started at on your phone screen, your computer monitor, and even billboards, umpteenth times. It’s closer now, way closer. You saw the slight smile lines on his cheeks, and the unevenness of his skin that hasn’t been photoshopped out. But his strong eyebrows and heart-shaped smile were the same. And his eyes.

Kyungsoo was shaking hands with Seung-woo and another PD, but his eyes flickered to you briefly as you got to your feet. And then they’re gone. Like they didn’t see you at all.

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that he’s just another person. He probably leaves his phone ringer on. That’s something that annoys you. Annoyance. It’s your weapon against anything you’re scared of. But it’s also grounding you in this insane moment.

Reminder, you’re staff. He’s the star of the show.

“Ah! This is our chalk artist, she made the board behind us,” Seung-woo declared proudly and grabbed your arm to pull you back, just as you were preparing to sneak away from the awkward circle of personnel. You’ve never cursed so strongly in your own mind before, and a string of fuckshitfuckshitfuck was still going through your mind as you gave a tight smile and bowed. All while avoiding eye contact.

You saw Kyungsoo and a few others glance at your work and you couldn’t help but cringe. God help you, you had confidence in your work, but were you completely unprepared for your teenage/young adult celebrity crush to judge you. They politely express amazement at the board, and you robotically thank them.

Seung-woo continued to discuss some detail about the segment and you took the opportunity to duck away and escape with your bag, not even taking a second look back. You were tempted of course, as you left through the studio doors. You could even stay to watch the entire filming, and no one would object. They knew who you were.

But there was no way you would be able to not fall back into your stupid crush that you still had, if you were able to just stand and watch him cook for an hour and a half. You were too old for this.

You gritted your teeth as you got in your car, placed your duffel on the passenger seat, and buckled your seatbelt.

Today, you would be an adult and do the right thing.

Tomorrow, you’d give dating apps another go.

But right now, you imagined another universe, where he was a regular person, and so were you. Then, you could allow yourself to fall in love. You closed your eyes and leaned your head onto the cold glass of the window and allowed yourself to fantasize.

A/N: I’m totally throwing this into the void and doing this for myself but part two is coming.

[sobdasha]

some (very long) Hiro metas and a Kisa-n-Tohru tangent

seeing the "Hiro is a brat!" "Hiro just has trauma!" debate has made me ponder…

Like, not to compare trauma and argue who had what worse and invalidate suffering, but my immediate reaction was kind of, "Wait, what? I mean, okay, I guess Hiro did just have some trauma re: Kisa, but like, overall…???"

So it's time for some scrutiny!

I’mma talk myself through this in a post.

Here we have Hiro. He's a Souma, which is pretty damn traumatic in its own right, and possessed by a Zodiac spirit, which is even worse. He's part of an elite inner circle, privileged with status and wealth; but on the flip side, there's still people in the family who look down on the Zodiac, and Hiro's looking at a future of isolation (afraid of looking like a monster, afraid to betray the family secret, not properly free to pick his own job, may or may not be able to live outside the estate, love life is gonna be a disaster when puberty hits). And Akito, whom the possessed part of him loves deeply and desperately, tends to weaponize his own love and withhold it when someone displeases him, or turn hurtful when someone needs punishment.

Okay, so that's bad. But Hiro shares that with all of the Zodiac members, that's just the baseline trauma, and there's some compounding issues at play that Hiro lacks:

- Hiro, as the Sheep, isn't especially hated. Kyou, for instance, has a bad attitude that's partly due to the entire clan ragging on him for being a horrible abomination of a monster, comparing him unfavorably to Idealized Yuki, and telling him he's gonna be locked up in a one-room house on the estate to suffer out his life--and that's not even counting how being the Cat affected how his immediate family treated him. Haru, as the Ox, got ~harmlessly teased~ about being a big dumb slow stupid ox by the family so much that he started flipping over to a Black personality to violently vent his feelings.

- Hiro's family life is, as far as I can tell, actually ideal. His parents didn't reject him (Momiji, Kyou re: his sperm donor, Rin), split up over him (I suspect this is what happened for Kagura, because her parents argued a lot when she was young, and I wonder about the fact that Ritsu's dad isn't at the onsen? And there's no mention of Kisa's dad? But then again, we're told repeatedly that Yuki and Ayame have a father and he lives in the same house as their mother and I've never seen proof of this man's existence), be coolly indifferent to him (Ayame after Yuki was born and he got off the hook but honestly I think that was a blessing to him, Yuki, Hatori), or get extremely overprotective (Kyou re: his mom, I'd argue this is partly why Ritsu's mom is so stressed out, and also I'd argue this may be why Kisa's mom hits her limit). In fact, Hiro's the only one who we can definitely say has two parents, who live together, and have a good relationship, and actively enjoy nurturing their child. Also Satsuki's completely adorkable. (This puts strain on Hiro in other ways, lol, but at least he shares that feeling with his dad.)

- Hiro, as the Sheep, probably doesn't particularly stand out. I'm guessing his hair color isn't particularly notable? So he probably hasn't been singled out for teasing from people who don't even know about the curse, like Kyou and Haru and Kisa. (No one's not-thirsty enough to have teased Ayame or Yuki for their looks, I'm pretty sure, and Momiji can pull the biracial card, even if that wouldn't stop people, and went to international school, where people probably found other ways to pick on you.)

So where, for Hiro, does his particular extremely combative, condescending, scathing, sarcastic attitude come from?

That's not to say none of those things above could be factors. It's extremely possible that the family found dumb things to say to him because, y'know, clearly it's impossible to hurt a kid's feelings if you're arrogant enough about it. And like Kyouko says, you can't really judge someone's family situation based on their behavior, and vice versa. I'd expect Hiro to be super well-adjusted, coming from a loving nuclear family, but kids are people and they will turn out how they turn out both because of and in spite of how they're raised. And maybe Hiro's experienced some bullying about whatever, and his instant sharp-tongued retorts became the default in response to that. Hiro didn't tell us any of this, but who knows!

Or maybe Hiro's difficult phase is just a phase. Maybe that's how all his classmates talk to each other?? I can easily see that being a thing, especially with boys, both friendly with friends or aggressive with people you want to treat badly, and maybe Hiro's so much in the habit of it that he doesn't think first (and doesn't care enough about Tohru and her feelings to exercise a little self-control). Like this post that points out how it's a Definite Thing that part of Hiro's lording-little-brat arrogance is because he's in his final year of elementary school and he's everyone's senpai and that sort of thing is indulged because adults know he'll get cruelly humbled next year when he's a baby kouhai.

But I think maybe, what's most relevant with Hiro, is that because of his lack of obvious outside factors to fight against for personal growth, his growing pains as a character are internal. He's fighting against himself. AKA, it's only logical that he's a tiny little shit and his character arc is about growing into someone who isn't a jerkface. Which can be just as difficult and traumatic as standing up to your parents, or Akito, or society, or your classmates. Hiro has to assert himself against himself, and himself won't punch him in the face or lock him in his room but it's so easy to just put the blame elsewhere and let himself get away with it and give him a pass and stop trying to improve.

Now I wanna analyze the timeline!

Aside from a few select Zodiac members, Akito hasn't really done anything super terrible that we've heard about until Hiro's in 3rd grade. That's when Hatori and Kana ask to get married, and Hatori gets injured. Akito has been a jerk before, and Akito is very clearly in favor of a hierarchy that puts God at the top getting all the love. But Shigure and Ayame have talked about their sexcapades with no issue, and Kagura's always going on about her undying love for and future marriage with Kyou, and this is the first incident that says those things aren't allowed.

Sometime not terribly long after that, Shigure gets kicked out of the Main House. This ramps up Akito's hatred of women, though Hiro wouldn't know the betrayal behind it and might not have a clue about Akito's vendetta.

Right about the time Hiro starts 6th grade, he feels compelled to tell Akito that he has feelings for Kisa. (I'm pulling this from the Collector's Edition timeline. In the actual story I keep seeing the English being like "I always thought Hiro hated me / I thought Hiro hated me for a long time" with Kisa then immediately turning around and saying "We were bffs all through my elementary school years / Hiro always played with me until this year", so I heavily suspect the translators keep getting a modifier in the wrong place or something because wtf.) Akito kicks Kisa's ass and Kisa takes two weeks to heal. (This isn't Akito's fault. It's also not Kisa's fault, obviously, because Hiro didn't even tell her yet that he liked her. So that means it's all Hiro's fault.) Hiro's horrified, because he could have had an idea this would be bad but he probably didn't expect it to all be taken out on Kisa. After all, Hatori got hurt, not Kana, and Rin hasn't been pushed out a window yet.

Hiro abruptly cuts off his interaction with Kisa, to protect her from getting punished by Akito again. Kisa goes back to 7th grade, where she's just transitioned from Top Of The Heap Senpai and Just A Child So We Can Let Things Slide to Lowly Kouhai Who Needs To Learn Proper Social Behaviors, and she's being bullied, and her bff won't talk to her, and her Talking Things Out skills are having zero effect, so she just stops talking, and now her mom is upset, and then she starts skipping school, and now her mom is really upset. And Hiro was probably unaware of a lot of this, until it got really bad several months in, since he stopped seeing his bff.

And Hiro's agonizing and worrying about it, when suddenly Tohru swoops in and magically saves the day, bringing hope where there was none and erasing suffering, right when Hiro was probably nerving himself up to try to help somehow without bringing Akito's wrath back down on Kisa.

Oh I wanna have a tangent about Kisa!

Timeline again, but from Kisa's point of view:

Kisa and Hiro are only a year apart, so they've always been super close. Hiro is her bff.

Now Kisa is starting 7th grade.

Kisa does something Bad. It's not clear what, but it's Bad Enough to make Akito hate her and also seriously beat her up, so that's Pretty Bad.

Actually it's Really Very Bad, because after that Hiro hates her too.

Anyway Kisa's starting 7th grade! Yay! New school, new girls, new pressures. In my personal experience, middle school is when girls are at their nastiest (after they hit high school, they start to chill out. Obviously you still get jerks, because people, but there was a little more "live and let live" attitude), so I always assume this is part of the problem. Kisa's classmates start to bully her. Kisa tries out her conflict resolution skills, like the adult she's expected to be becoming, and it only causes the situation to escalate. Her self-esteem has already had the crap kicked out of it, and hasn't healed in 2+ weeks. Her bff hates her and won't talk to her.

And then Kisa just gives up without telling anyone why.

Tohru's got a very valid point, that it's hard to talk about the things that actually bother you. It's hard to ask for help. I can complain all day long about little things, but I can't put big issues into words without spontaneously bawling? Which is really fricken embarrassing???

But I think the reason Tohru strikes such a chord with Kisa, and is able to instantly win her over, is because she talks with such quiet feeling about being scared her mom wouldn't love her anymore. Because that feeling was very, very real for Tohru--grounded in the fact that Kyouko actually did abandon her once.

And Kisa recognized that, and realized that Tohru--unlike everyone else--actually got it, because that's exactly what Kisa's feeling. Because Kisa's gotten along with her mother very well all her life, if what we see of her with Hiro is any indication. Except that suddenly Akito hates her. Suddenly Hiro hates her. It's a very real fear, once Kisa's mom starts getting stressed about the not-talking, that Kisa's mom is going to stop loving her just like everyone else is suddenly doing. Because that's literally what's happening to Kisa.

Tohru's not just a warm, loving, accepting, motherly presence. Tohru's someone who can very viscerally relate to Kisa's terror. Of course Kisa clings to her.

Back to Hiro though!

I think we could also stand to apply to Hiro the tried-and-true, "The things you hate most in other people are the things you hate most about yourself," because it is both true in general and a definite thing Fruits Basket does (for a quick example, see Yuki saying he hates dependent people [while Kyou's like "that's you tho"] and Rin hating Yuki [because he's dependent on Haru the way she is guiltly dependent on Haru]).

I went to rewatch the episode to look at all the specific things Hiro says about Tohru and other people, only to realize the obvious flaw that like everything he says is an insult and there's too much there for me to unpack here, so I chose just a few statements that were really specifically phrased (I can't stand people who X).

I can't stand people who let themselves be pushed around so easily

Hiro also talks a couple times about Tohru having no sense of identity or agency, or not having thoughts of her own. So this reveals Hiro's inner struggle with his own complacency. He's got that bond with Akito, he's got a life that's at least partly set in stone already for him, and he's not doing anything to fight it. He didn't hide his feelings for Kisa from Akito, and then when Kisa got hurt Hiro never told her why ("It's my fault because I told Akito I like you and that made him mad, it's nothing you did") and never called Akito out on it (he can't blame Akito but when he talks about it you can tell he also knows he should blame Akito because Hiro can figure out that that was wrong. Maybe because, unlike so many others of the Zodiac, he was raised in a sensible and loving family and he knows that Akito's behavior isn't normal, isn't right, isn't acceptable).

This is probably why, even while using "I'm just a kid" to get away with his behavior, he's so frustrated with not being an adult. Because, to him, an adult wouldn't just let these things happen. He's wrong, on one hand, but on the other hand the maturity that will come with his personal growth will let him be the kind of adult he envisions.

I can't stand inconsiderate people

Hiro knows he's a jerk. He knows his snappy retorts piss people off--he enjoys that. He's super jealous about Tohru and doesn't care about her feelings, and him taking his anger out on Tohru has been hurting Kisa's feelings and that hasn't caused Hiro to check himself yet either.

He knows this, he hates this, he's not ready to deal with it yet and exercise self-control, so he's the niceness police about other people being rude.

(I think it's interesting that, when Hiro starts maturing, even though he still has that tendency to rudeness, there's also a hint that it will one day turn into a frankness that isn't just "a blunt insult is the same as honesty right?" That time when Hiro realizes that Kyou and Tohru have Feelings and he's like "Um, wait, is that okay? Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Kyou is going to be locked up alone in a room for the rest of his life???" He asks the tough questions lol. I won't give him credit for bringing up Tohru's dad issues because he was just doing that to be a dick, there was zero maturity there. In another world, though, he would've been the only other person besides Kyou [who already knew the details] to think to question Tohru about it.)

People who whine about their situation while accepting no responsibility are so irritating

Again...Hiro hates the whole situation that happened with Kisa, and hates his part in it, and didn't do anything to fix it before Tohru came along. And even then, he still hasn't fessed up to Kisa about the real circumstances. He knows he owes Kisa that, and he hasn't taken responsibility yet.

This ties into the complacency issue, but with the added fact that Hiro's said it's shitty and unfair but still is going along with it without trying to stop it. So he's an extra jerk, but he still hasn't stepped up yet.

I think maybe this is why Tohru's speech touches him, even after he just called her out on magical Mary Sue emotional healing powers. He's been nothing but his worst self around Tohru--bad enough that it's not only just Tohru but Kisa he's been upsetting as well--he's been bratty and insulting and pushed Tohru around and stolen her property and treated her like shit and--

And instead of rolling her eyes, or getting fed up and firing back, or any other response that show her low expectations for Hiro…

Tohru just stands there and says it's brave, to admit you have flaws, and that she has faith that he can and will make good on his responsibilities. Even though nothing at all that Hiro's done--and he's very well aware of this--gives any indication that he would even try. Let alone succeed.

The way that Hiro, when people call him a brat, tends to then embrace it and get even brattier--this makes me think he's the kind of kid who lives down to people's expectations, rather than trying to prove them wrong. So when Tohru without hesitation sets the bar high like that, and it pisses Hiro off--

He's gonna show you, stupid woman. You think he's a prince? You're gonna be floored at the kind of prince he'll be.

(Eventually. Much later.)

[thegayfromrulid]

Frkm 1 allll the way to 99. Also, the next SAO game eugeo lives as a sword and not die (thank GOD)

@2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars- I will not eat lollipops. 

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Cotton candy! I actually get super bad headaches from bubblegum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Probably lonely genius...

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Soda bottles!! I feel so fancy!! And old-timey.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I guess tomboy even though I’m a boy??

7. earbuds or headphones?

Aren’t these the same thing? I think I prefer over-ear headphones, but I don’t really like either. 

8. movies or tv shows?

Depends on the genre I guess. But as a main rule, live action- movies, animated- TV shows.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Potato salad.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Frankly, I wasn’t good, but I was really good at pissing all the jocks off-

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

I make myself these homemade egg mcmuffins. I enjoy them a lot. I am very picky about breakfast.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I only have one and it’s very generic: The Gay From Rulid’s Playlist. Yes it’s on Spotify. Yes, it’s 99% anime openings and endings and maybe Bet On It from HSM2. Be ashamed of me. Go on.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Lanyard! Mine is a BNHA one I bought from an artist at Nekocon!

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Either Sweet Tarts or Nerds. 

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

I usually have one leg tucked up under me and the other stretched out.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

A black and white pair of Skechers. They look like shit. They almost never are replaced by another shoe. Not even in the gross muggy heat.

18. ideal weather?

When it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and sit in the sunshine, but cool enough that I’m not hot, and a little breeze is going. I think of this weather quite often. 

19. sleeping position?

On my belly kinda spread out like a shounen protagonist.

21. obsession from childhood?

J.R.R. Tolkien. Have always been obsessed with him and his works. 

22. role model?

Redundant, but Tolkien again. Linguist and writer. Living my dream. 

23. strange habits?

I unplug things like microwaves, lamps, and TVs when I am done using them. Very little remains plugged in at my place. The modem, the fridge, and the clock. That is it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst. It’s my sister’s middle name. And I especially like the purple ones.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Blue by Eiffel 65. I don’t know why that song sticks out so much in my memory but it’s nostalgic for me. Tiny AJ hyperfixated on this song before anything else ya’ll. 

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Curl up in the sun on a blanket and nap. 

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Hot cocoa blanket cuddles. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Uhhhh...I’m not very musically literate. Let’s go with Born This Way (the first person I came out to sent me that song so it feels special!), I’m Free to Be Me by Jamie Grace, Praying by Kesha, Shake It Off by Taylor Swift ( @delicateeuphorias​ would you believe it xD), and right now thinking about someone dear to me who’s been gone See You Again is stuck in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Arboretums or big botanical gardens where I can get lost in the plants for a moment and take in how pretty they all are. And old monuments/big things people of the past built. A lot of things were built by people with no rights/freedom and I think about them and how despite the fact that they had nothing, they made such a lasting impact on our world. 

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

*slips on my Owari no Seraph cosplay* I will kick ass in this sweet ass cape-

33. most used phrase in your phone?

My phone seems to think it’s “Kirito’s ass” and I want it to not think that.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

O-O-O-O’REILLYYYYYYYYYY’S...Autooo PARTS.

35. average time you fall asleep?

I’m an insomniac it could be 10 pm it could be 3 am who knows I sleep for an hour I’m up again...

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Fucking CAN I HAS CHEEZBURGR cats. 

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

This all boils down to how much I’m packing. Going for a sleepover? Duffel. Going to con? My giant suitcase with room for all the bells and whistles of cosplay.

38. lemonade or tea?

Tea!

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Oh cruel I looooove lemon. The pie!

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

In high school here- so, aside from me being the resident weirdo (I DID come to school dressed as the TARDIS), my senior class decided to squirt hundreds of bottles of chocolate syrup on the sidewalks. We were an open campus so it’s all in front of our classroom doors- we had no hallways. And then they. They fucking EGGED ALL THE DOORS. The whole campus smelled like...ick.

41. last person you texted?

My father and mother in a group text to cry about customers treating me poorly. 

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

I prefer the jacket pockets because I still haven’t found a way to get men’s pants under the radar of my ever-watchful parents and women’s jeans pockets are SHITTY. Women gotta boycott this shit it is UNACCEPTABLE-

44. favorite scent for soap?

Peppermint...peppermint ^-^ I like to smell like...mint.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Recently I was reminded I live alone and my new favorite sleeping outfit...is...just some boxer shorts. Suck it dysphoria. Manly nightwear.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Pepper jack, Swiss, or ricotta. 

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Strawberry :3

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

I’m gonna sound so gay but when @disasterbikirito​ started laughing about a certain GIF and his laugh was so infectious I couldn’t help but laugh too. 

51. current stresses?

Are you shitting me it’s everything. Every. Single. Thing. I cannot breathe. I am having meltdowns. Someone fucking save me I cannot deal with COVID well.

52. favorite font?

Garamond for writing in my free time, Doulous SIL for all the linguistics IPA symbols my greedy heart desires. 

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Smooth but my fingertips have been gnawed on. I am stressed, okay?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Gosh, lots of things. But the most important takeaway is that a good boss will genuinely care about you. I miss that man. He was so wonderful and so caring and taught me so much about theater. Technical things and artistic things and historical things. Sometimes I wish I could have made a career out of working under him. 

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast (AH...AH...I SEE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES BECAUSE I’M TRANS. I KNOW. I *KNOW*.)

56. favorite tradition?

It’s a family tradition kinda unique to my household. Each year, we draw a name from a hat, and that name comes with a lot of words that describe us and what we liked over that year. We then each take a $20 bill and we go to a little hobby shop with cheap things in it and use that $20 bill to fill a Christmas stocking. We then hang them back up and empty the stocking full of candies and random silly things and have a good laugh and guess who filled whose stocking. 

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

The first one is coming to terms with knowing my dad has a severe illness. It really shook my family up, and it’s terrifying us right now with everything going on, but after a while, I learned that he was smiling, so I could smile, too.

The second one is my mother coming back from her tour in the Middle East on top of the murder of my godmother. Two very stressful things happened at once. My mother got very violent from her PTSD and her best friend died in a horrible way. It was an adjustment for everyone, and it kind of ripped my family to pieces. I can say, though, that my parents are still married and are getting better, and my sister and I are coming back to the family to be more open and healthy.

The third, and maybe some of my followers are aware, was getting rid of my ex-fiance. He was a man who sexually assaulted me repeatedly and I won’t go into details beyond that. It took me 5 years to get rid of him and accept what happened, but I am a much happier person now and while I work through the trauma that caused me, I have the most wonderful partner by my side and if you had told me back then I’d find someone as kind and patient and loving as him, I would have laughed and thought you were insane. 

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Probably what I put on all my fanfic updates: “I know. I’m an asshole.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Some kind of shoujo romance but it’s bi also I want a sword.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

There was nothing more smartass than Alice Synthesis 30 in SAO 18 asking a reporter to open up his head and prove he was human I’m sorry like OOF-

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Get in losers, we’re playing Steppin’ Out by FLOW, Elle me dit by Mika, Blue by Eiffel 65, ADAMAS by LiSA, and Touch Off by UVERworld.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I was on Webkinz more than I want to admit. 

65. any permanent scars?

Yup. I have one on my toe where I split the skin in half. I tripped. I have three surgical scars from when I had my appendix removed. And...the mystery scar. I was supposedly born with a scar it’s at the part where my foot meets my leg on my left side and you can see how it’s stretched over the years if you run your finger over it. The joke is that the doctor taking out my mom’s appendix scratched me in the womb. 

67. good luck charms?

Not really a charm but I do have a little Kirito keychain I carry everywhere I go that I fiddle with when I’m nervous.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Artificial bubblegum. Disgustiiiing.

70. left or right handed?

I am right-handed.

71. least favorite pattern?

Zig-zags. 

72. worst subject?

History...I am ashamed. It’s interesting, I just suck at it.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Gingerbread and marshmallow. I am a bit picky about mixing foods and flavors, so this was the weirdest I could think up. 

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

Can you hear that? It’s my hysterical laughter. 12 on a scale of 10. I get up there pretty frequently. Thank you, chronic crippling pain. 

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I...I don’t remember...I don’t even remember...I think I had to be like what...kindergarten? 

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE ALL POTATOS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH-Au gratin.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Aloe!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Coffee from a gas station. Mark my words...I will never get grocery store sushi. Ever. Again. My stomach has not forgotten. What a mistake. That was. 

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

So, my driver’s license hasn’t had an updated photo since I was 15 and just had a learner’s so I look like I want to murder a man but my school ID I had just run about a mile in the cold because the bus wasn’t running that day and my face is red and I look like I’m crying...probably the school ID...

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones~~

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I am from the South and we call ‘em lightnin’ bugs.

82. pc or console?

Errrrr console. I’m not a gamer by any means but there’s way fewer things to press on a console controller. 

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Neither...what...no...neither...they will put me to sleep...I will be out in seconds...the most dangerous things...people talking...and then I’m out...

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, she’s a LOT easier to dress. Those rubber clothes. SMH.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies but they gotta be the soft ones.

87. your greatest fear?

Being swallowed in the ocean. By a fish or a whale. I don’t play. Church kid don’t play with big things in the ocean with big mouths.

88. your greatest wish?

To make enough of a difference in someone’s life that they learn to love themself.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

Such a selfish thought...gosh...the mere thought of prioritizing someone troubles me. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Telling a cute guy sending me dog pictures was an excellent flirting technique as he sent me pictures of his puppy. I immediately thought “oh god I’ve fucked up bad” and at present we’re kinda head over heels for one another so maybe just be stupidly blunt once and a while you might find true love. 

91. boxes or bags?

Boxes. My cat didn’t force me to say that. Not at all. Sock, buddy, off the keyboard-

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Sunlight. I like the sun. The sun is my friend. It is warm and would never betray me.

93. nicknames?

Sister calls me “spoony” when she’s being ridiculous. No, I don’t know what that means. Mama calls me “cakes.” I had friends who called me “Deku” because I’m a crybaby. Had a few people DM me and straight up call me “Eugeo” or “Eug.” AJ is technically a nickname. 

94. favorite season?

Springtime!!!!! It’s...HERE!

95. favorite app on your phone?

I use like three apps...so Discord.

96. desktop background?

It’s. It’s Kirito and Eugeo. What did you expect.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Mama’s, dad’s, mine, and my parents’ house number. And does the emergency 911 count (pahahaha). 

(I answered the others in delicateeuphoria’s ask!)

[the-end-of-art]

Dancing with Professors by Patricia Nelson Limerick

In ordinary life, when a listener cannot understand what someone has said, this is the usual exchange:

              Listener: I cannot understand what you are saying.

              Speaker: Let me try to say it more clearly.

              But in scholarly writing in the late 20th century, other rules apply. This is the implicit exchange:

              Reader: I cannot understand what you are saying.

              Academic Writer: Too bad. The problem is that you are an unsophisticated and untrained reader. If you were smarter, you would understand me.

              The exchange remains implicit, because no one wants to say, "This doesn't make any sense," for fear that the response, "It would, if you were smarter," might actually be true.

              While we waste our time fighting over ideological conformity in the scholarly world, horrible writing remains a far more important problem. For all their differences, most right_wing scholars and most left_wing scholars share a common allegiance to a cult of obscurity. Left, right and center all hide behind the idea that unintelligible prose indicates a sophisticated mind. The politically correct and the politically incorrect come together in the violence they commit against the English language.

              University presses have certainly filled their quota every year, in dreary monographs, tangled paragraphs and impenetrable sentences. But trade publishers have also violated the trust of innocent and hopeful readers. As a prime example of unprovoked assaults on innocent words, consider the verbal behavior of Allan Bloom in "The Closing of the American Mind," published by a large mainstream press. Here is a sample:

              "If openness means to go with the flow,' it is necessarily an accommodation to the present. That present is so closed to doubt about so many things impeding the progress of its principles that unqualified openness to it would mean forgetting the despised alternatives to it, knowledge of which makes us aware of what is doubtful in it."

              Is there a reader so full of blind courage as to claim to know what this sentence means? Remember, the book in which this remark appeared was a lamentation over the failings of today's students, a call to arms to return to tradition and standards in education. And yet, in 20 years of paper grading, I do not recall many sentences that asked, so pathetically, to be put out of their misery.

              Jump to the opposite side of the political spectrum from Allan Bloom, and literary grace makes no noticeable gains. Contemplate this breathless, indefatigable sentence from the geographer, Allan Pred, and Mr. Pred and Bloom seem, if only in literary style, to be soul mates.

              "If what is at stake is an understanding of geographical and historical variations in the sexual division of productive and reproductive labor, of contemporary local and regional variations in female wage labor and women's work outside the formal economy, of on_the_ground variations in the everyday content of women's lives, inside and outside of their families, then it must be recognized that, at some nontrivial level, none of the corporal practices associated with these variations can be severed from spatially and temporally specific linguistic practices, from language that not only enable the conveyance of instructions, commands, role depictions and operating rules, but that also regulate and control, that normalize and spell out the limits of the permissible through the conveyance of disapproval, ridicule and reproach."

              In this example, 124 words, along with many ideas, find themselves crammed into one sentence. In their company, one starts to get panicky. "Throw open the windows; bring in the oxygen tanks!" one wants to shout. "These words and ideas are nearly suffocated. Get them air!" And yet the condition of this desperately packed and crowded sentence is a perfectly familiar one to readers of academic writing, readers who have simply learned to suppress the panic.

              Everyone knows that today's college students cannot write, but few seem willing to admit that the professors who denounce them are not doing much better. The problem is so blatant that there are signs that the students are catching on. In my American history survey course last semester, I presented a few writing rules that I intended to enforce inflexibly. The students looked more and more peevish; they looked as if they were about to run down the hall, find a telephone, place an urgent call and demand that someone from the A.C.L.U. rush up to campus to sue me for interfering with their First Amendment rights to compose unintelligible, misshapen sentences.

              Finally one aggrieved student raised her hand and said, "You are telling us not to write long, dull sentences, but most of our reading is full of long, dull sentences."

              As this student was beginning to recognize, when professors undertake to appraise and improve student writing, the blind are leading the blind. It is, in truth, difficult to persuade students to write well when they find so few good examples in their assigned reading.

              The current social and judicial context for higher education makes this whole issue pressing. In Colorado, as in most states, the legislators re convinced that the university is neglecting students and wasting state resources on pointless research. Under those circumstances, the miserable writing habits of professors pose a direct and concrete danger to higher education. Rather than going to the state legislature, proudly presenting stacks of the faculty's compelling and engaging publications, you end up hoping that the lawmakers stay out of the library and stay away, especially, from the periodical room, with its piles of academic journals. The habits of academic writers lend powerful support to the impression that research is a waste of the writers' time and of the public's money.

              Why do so many professors write bad prose?

              Ten years ago, I heard a classics professor say the single most important thing_in my opinion_that anyone has said about professors. "We must remember," he declared, "that professors are the ones nobody wanted to dance with in high school."

              This is an insight that lights up the universe_or at least the university. It is a proposition that every entering freshman should be told, and it is certainly a proposition that helps to explain the problem of academic writing. What one sees in professors, repeatedly, is exactly the manner that anyone would adopt after a couple of sad evenings sidelined under the crepe_paper streamers in the gym, sitting on a folding chair while everyone else danced. Dignity, for professors, perches precariously on how well they can convey this message, "I am immersed in some very important thoughts, which unsophisticated people could not even begin to understand. Thus, I would not want to dance, even if one of you unsophisticated people were to ask me."

              Think of this, then, the next time you look at an unintelligible academic text. "I would not want the attention of a wide reading audience, even if a wide audience were to ask for me." Isn't that exactly what the pompous and pedantic tone of the classically academic writer conveys?

              Professors are often shy, timid and fearful people, and under those circumstances, dull, difficult prose can function as a kind of protective camouflage. When you write typical academic prose, it is nearly impossible to make a strong, clear statement. The benefit here is that no one can attack your position, say you are wrong or even raise questions about the accuracy of what you have said, if they cannot tell what you have said. In those terms, awful, indecipherable prose is its own form of armor, protecting the fragile, sensitive thoughts of timid souls.

              The best texts for helping us understand the academic world are, of course, Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Just as devotees of Carroll would expect, he has provided us with the best analogy for understanding the origin and function of bad academic writing. Tweedledee and Tweedledum have quite a heated argument over a rattle. They become so angry that they decide to fight. But before they fight, they go off to gather various devices of padding and protection: "bolsters, blankets, hearthrugs, tablecloths, dish covers and coal scuttles." Then, with Alice's help in tying and fastening, they transform these household items into armor. Alice is not impressed: " Really, they'll be more like bundles of old clothes than anything else, by the time they're ready!' she said to herself, as she arranged a bolster round the neck of Tweedledee, to keep his head from being cut off,' as he said, Why this precaution?" Because, Tweedledee explains, "it's one of the most serious things that can possibly happen to one in a battle_to get one's head cut off."

              Here, in the brothers' anxieties and fears, we have an exact analogy for the problems of academic writing. The next time you look at a classically professorial sentence_long, tangled, obscure, jargonized, polysyllabic_think of Tweedledum and Tweedledee dressed for battle, and see if those timid little thoughts, concealed under layers of clauses and phrases, do not remind you of those agitated but cautious brothers, arrayed in their bolsters, blankets, dish covers and coal scuttles. The motive, too, is similar. Tweedledum and Tweedledee were in terror of being hurt, and so they padded themselves so thoroughly that they could not be hurt; nor, for that matter, could they move. A properly dreary, inert sentence has exactly the same benefit; it protects its writer from sharp disagreement, while it also protects him from movement.

              Why choose camouflage and insulation over clarity and directness? Tweedledee, of course, spoke for everyone, academic or not, when he confessed his fear. It is indeed, as he said, "one of the most serious things that can possibly happen to one in a battle_to get one's head cut off." Under those circumstances, logic says: tie the bolster around the neck, and add a protective hearthrug or two. Pack in another qualifying clause or two. Hide behind the passive_voice verb. Preface any assertion with a phrase like "it could be argued" or "a case could be made." Protecting one's neck does seem to be the way to keep one's head from being cut off.

              Graduate school implants in many people the belief that there are terrible penalties to be paid for writing clearly, especially writing clearly in ways that challenge established thinking in the field. And yet, in academic warfare (and I speak as a veteran) your head and your neck are rarely in serious danger. You can remove the bolster and the hearthrug. Your opponents will try to whack at you, but they will seldom, if ever, land a blow_in large part because they are themselves so wrapped in protective camouflage and insulation that they lose both mobility and accuracy.

              So we have a widespread pattern of professors protecting themselves from injury by wrapping their ideas in dull prose, and yet the danger they try to fend off is not a genuine danger. Express yourself clearly, and it is unlikely that either your head_or, more important, your tenure_will be cut off.

              How, then, do we save professors from themselves? Fearful people are not made courageous by scolding; they need to be coaxed and encouraged. But how do we do that, especially when this particular form of fearfulness masks itself as pomposity, aloofness and an assured air of superiority?

              Fortunately, we have available the world's most important and illuminating story on the difficulty of persuading people to break out of habits of timidity, caution, and unnecessary fear. I borrow this story from Larry McMurtry, one of my rivals in the interpreting of the American West, though I am putting the story to a use that Mr. McMurtry did not intend.

              In a collection of his essays, In a Narrow Grave, Mr. McMurtry wrote about the weird process of watching his book Horsemen Pass By being turned into the movie Hud. He arrived in the Texas Panhandle a week or two after filming had started, and he was particularly anxious to learn how the buzzard scene had gone. In that scene, Paul Newman was supposed to ride up and discover a dead cow, look up at a tree branch lined with buzzards and, in his distress over the loss of the cow, fire his gun at one of the buzzards. At that moment, all of the other buzzards were supposed to fly away into the blue Panhandle sky.

              But when Mr. McMurtry asked people how the buzzard scene had gone, all he got, he said, were "stricken looks."

              The first problem, it turned out, had to do with the quality of the available local buzzards_who proved to be an excessively scruffy group. So more appealing, more photogenic buzzards had to be flown in from some distance and at considerable expense.

              But then came the second problem: how to keep the buzzards sitting on the tree branch until it was time for their cue to fly.

              That seemed easy. Wire their feet to the branch, and then, after Paul Newman fires his shot, pull the wire, releasing their feet, thus allowing them to take off.

              But, as Mr. McMurtry said in an important and memorable phrase, the film makers had not reckoned with the "mentality of buzzards." With their feet wired, the buzzards did not have enough mobility to fly. But they did have enough mobility to pitch forward.

              So that's what they did: with their feet wired, they tried to fly, pitched forward, and hung upside down from the dead branch, with their wings flapping.

              I had the good fortune a couple of years ago to meet a woman who had been an extra for this movie, and she added a detail that Mr. McMurtry left out of his essay: namely, the buzzard circulatory system does not work upside down, and so, after a moment or two of flapping, the buzzards passed out.

              Twelve buzzards hanging upside down from a tree branch: this was not what Hollywood wanted from the West, but that's what Hollywood had produced.

              And then we get to the second stage of buzzard psychology. After six or seven episodes of pitching forward, passing out, being revived, being replaced on the branch and pitching forward again, the buzzards gave up. Now, when you pulled the wire and released their feet, they sat there, saying in clear, nonverbal terms: "We tried that before. It did not work. We are not going to try it again." Now the film makers had to fly in a high_powered animal trainer to restore buzzard self_esteem. It was all a big mess. Larry McMurtry got a wonderful story out of it; and we, in turn, get the best possible parable of the workings of habit and timidity.

              How does the parable apply? In any and all disciplines, you go to graduate school to have your feet wired to the branch. There is nothing inherently wrong with that: scholars should have some common ground, share some background assumptions, hold some similar habits of mind. This gives you, quite literally, your footing. And yet, in the process of getting your feet wired, you have some awkward moments, and the intellectual equivalent of pitching forward and hanging upside down. That experience_especially if you do it in a public place like a seminar_provides no pleasure. One or two rounds of that humiliation, and the world begins to seem like a treacherous place. Under those circumstances, it does indeed seem to be the choice of wisdom to sit quietly on the branch, to sit without even the thought of flying, since even the thought might be enough to tilt the balance and set off another round of flapping, fainting and embarrassment.

              Yet when scholars get out of graduate school and get Ph.D.'s, and, even more important, when scholars get tenure, the wire is truly pulled. Their feet are free. They can fly whenever and wherever they like. Yet by then the second stage of buzzard psychology has taken hold, and they refuse to fly. The wire is pulled, and yet the buzzards sit there, hunched and grumpy. If they teach in a university with a graduate program, they actively instruct young buzzards in the necessity of keeping their youthful feet on the branch.

              This is a very well_established pattern, and it is the ruination of scholarly activity in the modern world. Many professors who teach graduate students think that one of their principal duties is to train students in the conventions of academic writing.

              I do not believe that professors enforce a standard of dull writing on graduate students in order to be cruel. They demand dreariness because they think that dreariness is in the students' best interests. Professors believe that a dull writing style is an academic survival skill because they think that is what editors want, both editors of academic journals and editors of university presses. What we have here is a chain of misinformation and misunderstanding, where everyone thinks that the other guy is the one who demands, dull, impersonal prose.

              Let me say again what is at stake here: universities and colleges are currently embattled, distrusted by the public and state funding institutions. As distressing as this situation is, it provides the perfect setting and the perfect timing for declaring an end to scholarly publication as a series of guarded conversations between professors.

              The redemption of the university, especially in terms of the public's appraisal of the value of research and publication, requires all the writers who have something they want to publish to ask themselves the question: Does this have to be a closed communication, shutting out all but specialists willing to fight their way through the thickest of jargon? Or can this be an open communication, engaging specialists with new information and new thinking, but also offering an invitation to nonspecialists to learn from this study, to grasp its importance, and by extension, to find concrete reasons to see value in the work of the university?

              This is a country in need of wisdom, and of clearly reasoned conviction and vision. And that, at the bedrock, is the reason behind this campaign to save professors from themselves and to detoxify academic prose. The context is a bit different, but the statement that Willy Loman made to his sons in Death of a Salesman keeps coming to mind: "The woods are burning boys, the woods are burning." In a society confronted by a faltering economy, racial and ethnic conflicts, and environmental disasters, "the woods are burning," and since we so urgently need everyone's contribution in putting some of these fires out, there is no reason to indulge professorial vanity or timidity.

              Ego is, of course, the key obstacle here. As badly as most of them write, professors are nonetheless proud and sensitive writers, resistant in criticism. But even the most desperate cases can be redeemed and persuaded to think of writing as a challenging craft, not as existential trauma. A few years ago, I began to look at carpenters and other artisans as the emotional model for writers. A carpenter, let us say, makes a door for a cabinet. If the door does not hang straight, the carpenter does not say, "I will not change that door; it is an expression of my individuality; who cares if it will not close?" Instead, the carpenter removes the door and works on it until it fits. That attitude, applied to writing, could be our salvation. If we thought more like carpenters, academic writers could find a route out of the trap of ego and vanity. Escaped from that trap, we could simply work on successive drafts until what we have to say is clear.

              Colleges and universities are filled with knowledgeable, thoughtful people who have been effectively silenced by an awful writing style, a style with its flaws concealed behind a smokescreen of sophistication and professionalism. A coalition of academic writers, graduate advisers. journal editors, university press editors and trade publishers can seize this moment_and pull the wire. The buzzards can be set free_free to leave that dead tree branch, free to regain to regain their confidence, free to soar.

[lxveille]

Hiiiii! I just discovered your blog and it is lovely, i must tell you. Can i request fir 57, 70 of wonwoo? Thank you and keep it up 😘

100 ways to say i love you (requests closed)WC: ~ 1300

You’re still staring at the exposed brick, pretending to understand all the details the realtor is rattling off, when she comes to a stop seemingly out of nowhere and declares that she’ll give the two of you some time to talk. You don’t turn around right away, gaze still lingering over the spacious living room.

“Well?” Wonwoo prompts you for your impressions. You’d spent a good deal of the tour thus far nodding along with what was being said and sending questioning glances his way. His tone in just one word already tells you he’s ready for you to be more straightforward than that.

“It’s pretty nice,” you remark with a drop of caution. You finish your small pivot to look all around the room and find yourself facing him. Your hands settle on your hips and you let a small puff of air out as your eyes travel up to the ceiling and the light fixture overhead.

“Yeah, it is,” concurs Wonwoo, and you suspect he’s intentionally agreeing vaguely so you still feel like you can start rattling off whatever you find wrong with the spacious apartment.

You’d been half-awake when Wonwoo proposed moving in together. To this day, you aren’t sure what suddenly occurred to him that day. But when he came over that night, he’d seemed anxious with something you couldn’t place.

Still, you hadn’t pushed. He’d tell you when he was ready. It’s the same logic that kept you sane when he’d dodged properly asking you out for three weeks. And the same again with waiting for the first time he murmured I love you like he thought it had been a secret on a windy mid-autumn afternoon while waiting for the bus with you.

When you went to bed without him opening up about it, you predicted he’d wake up tomorrow and admit he’d slept horribly before letting whatever was keeping him up tumble out with his explanation for why. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d summon up the courage to get it off his chest in the middle of the night.

But he did, shaking you awake lightly and peppering barely-there kisses to your face for good measure. You stretched and yawned and groaned out questions of what was wrong all at once. And it was probably only because he was so fixated you in the moment that he was able to understand what you said at all.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured first, hand slipping down from your shoulder to your waist. “I wanna ask you something. Okay?”

“Right now?” You’d had the back on one hand over one of your eyes, peering at him curiously with the other.

“Right now,” he nodded, fingers curling a bit into the fabric of your pajamas as he steadied himself for asking it. “Do you wanna live with me?”

You’d hummed an affirmative.

“I mean really,” he tried again, not satisfied with your sleepy response, “Get a place together. Have our own room and everything.”

“Sure,” you answered, letting your hand fall away from your face, “Sounds nice.”

Wonwoo stared at your for a moment. In the dark of your bedroom that night, he wasn’t certain how to take the casual way you’d accepted the idea. So he kissed you once and let himself fall into a sound sleep.

That night, it turns out, was the most relaxed you’d ever been about the notion. On several occasions now you’ve tried suggested the two of you just try to make space for the other in one of your own current apartments. Enough to let Wonwoo know it wasn’t so much the idea of moving in together that had you panicking so much as just the process of trying to find a place to share together.

“It’s also… big, isn’t it?” It’s an obvious thing to point out. But your voice carries with it the notion that it might be a bit too much space.

“There’s enough room for both of us,” Wonwoo suggests as a reason for that.

“– To each have our own room?” you tack on with a dash of skepticism.

Wonwoo laughs lowly, teeth peeking out of his smile as he does. But it’s followed by a light shift in his demeanor, shoulders coming forward slightly in a more rounded stance. His eyes avoid yours, a clear tell that something he’s not sure if he’s ready to say is right on the tip of his tongue. “I mean, for both us. And maybe for more, if we wanted…?”

Your heart quicken a bit at the implication, and you find yourself similarly uncertain if you want to put it into explicit terms. So you decide instead to go with process of elimination. “Like if we have guests crash for the night after a party or something…?”

His eyes snap back to you. There’s a broader grin and a mix of a sigh and a chuckle that passes from his lips. He tilts his head to one side quickly, like that interpretation had only just occurred to him. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

He takes a few steps closer to you across the shiny, hardwood floors the realtor had spoken a remarkable amount on.

“You wanna ask about the pet policy?” you try next.

“You’re warm,” Wonwoo answers as he arrives toe to toe with you. “Kinda.”

An airy laugh, caught between nervous and excited, comes out of you when you dip your head forward and try to think of anything else to suggest instead of the one thing going over repeatedly in your mind. “A spare room would give our family somewhere to stay if they’re ever in town,” you acknowledge, lifting your gaze carefully to his.

He doesn’t answer right away, stuck admiring your features up close for the thousandth time. His arms encircle your waist, one of his hands slipping into a back pocket of your jeans out of habit.

“Warmer,” he hints.

“Family?” you repeat.

“Hot,” he murmurs, and you feel your lips part into a broad grin. A part of you thinks of asking if he’s carrying on with the game of letting you know by temperature how on the mark your guesses were or if he’s making some sort of comment on the concept. You don’t though, too preoccupied with the look in his eyes. You don’t have to look at his mouth to know he’s smiling as well.

You’re not sure if you want to shift away or bury your head in his chest. The idea of starting a family with Wonwoo — it’d been floating somewhere in your mind for some time, but the notion that he’s come up with it also has you off guard and at a loss of words. Wonwoo’s hands press a little firmer against your frame, nudging you a few inches closer to him.

“Would you want to…?” he asks; the playfulness is gone from his voice now. This time, it’s a whisper because he isn’t sure how you’ll respond.

“Yes,” spills out of you before you can blink. And just as soon as it’s said, Wonwoo is kissing you like the fate of the Earth itself had been hanging in the balance with your answer. You fall into the familiar sensation of his lips against your own, the subtle scent of him washing over you as you pull him closer with your hands around his shoulders.

It takes a sound of the realtor clearing her throat for the two of you to pull apart, flushed with embarrassment amongst other things. You step away from him and apologize meekly.

“Not a problem,” she assures, and her demeanor suggests it isn’t the first time she’s come across a scene like this. “Any thoughts on the place?”

Wonwoo exchanges a look with you and reaches out for your hand.

“We’re interested.”

[dennou-translations]

Kagerou Daze VIII: Chapter 4

Children Record -side No.3 (2)-

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases in Japanese or in English. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

← Previous || Index || Next →

Even if someone were to die, no matter what, we wouldn’t cry. Should we manage to meet again by any chance, crying was permitted. Ever since we had made that promise, I had been intending to prepare myself in several ways.

But, I’m sorry. This kind of thing... is really painful, after all.

It was the third time that one of my family members had died before my eyes. Honestly, under what sort of star had I been born to be facing those horrible circumstances? I had often heard the words “there are no gods”, but if there really weren’t any, wouldn’t I have been spared from wandering through such a bizarre life?

I don’t believe that gods don’t exist. There has probably been one god with an exceptionally ill personality leading us by the nose all this time. Or something.

I had already been deluding myself with those kinds of “meaningless things” over and over whenever something heartbreaking occurred. It was not as if anything would change were there any gods. I was aware of that much. Except, the desire to know what a so-called “god” was and of wanting to see one didn’t fade.

Aah, I see. That may be why.

Mary’s figure as she stood before my line of sight had a god-like, overwhelming presence, enough to make me think, “perhaps ‘that thing’ in front of me is a god”.

It had happened a little while back. Shintarou-kun’s “plan”, which was too well-done for something conceived during a single night’s timespan despite that it could not be considered meticulous, had gone roughly as arranged. Using Mary’s power, we were supposed to stop the movements of Dad... of our enemy, who “Clearing” was living inside, and restrain his body just like that. I think the way things had gone until that point could even be described as perfect.

It was immediately afterwards that the situation had abruptly changed.

Two of our comrades were murdered in the blink of an eye by a pitch-black shadow that had appeared in the center of the dark laboratory. The “Clearing Snake”, which had sprouted from within Dad’s shadow, transited into Konoha-kun’s body, as if already meaning to do so.

Konoha-kun’s “ability” was the “Awakening Eyes”. Most likely, I wouldn’t have been able to predict that the “Clearing Snake” would take over said “ability”, which strengthened its owner’s flesh, even if I had tried thinking about it.

As though sneering at me, a nasty laughter reverberated through the room. I had a feeling that I heard a scream from Mary merging with it, but I couldn’t do anything at the time other than simply stand still before the tragedy unfolding in front of my eyes.

A tenacious “body” and an evil “head”... in short, the worst-case scenario.

Regardless, by the moment I had internalized that, Konoha-kun’s sinisterly distorted smile had already been drawing close to my field of vision. As I had been grabbed by the neck and lifted, without being able to even gasp, I had squeezed my eyelids shut... Yes, it had been right at that instant. I had unwittingly cringed in fear at the words that suddenly reached my ears.

“Come, Kagerou Daze.”

For a second, I had been unable to tell that those words were from Mary. Fitting of the occasion, Mary was showing an attitude of resentment unlike her usual one from the times when we would poke fun at her.

At any rate, the person who made a fool out of her the most was no one other than myself. I even wondered if I wasn’t the one who had seen her get angry most frequently. Still, the wrath that had traced Mary’s voice when she called for “that name” wasn’t in the same proportion as normal.

“Clearing” had promptly stopped all of his movements, and although it was only for an instant, he had showed an expression that made me believe he was almost shuddering in terror.

Soon after, a gigantic jet-black mouth had materialized, cutting through the frozen atmosphere of the room. That thing, which had seemed to drive off every single bit of direness, twined around and took away Shintarou-kun and Kido’s bodies, vanishing off somewhere.

I had no idea if it was because of the impacting occurrence that had just taken place before my eyes or because of the fingers tightened around my throat, but after having witnessed that, my consciousness had come to a halt...

I pondered on how much time had passed since then.

As I woke up within dead-still, total darkness, “she” was in front of me, wearing Mary’s appearance. The reddish black pupils of her dimly shining slit pair of eyes, which crept with countless snake scales, carved holes into me. Her once long hair that used to resemble cotton had become short, and her once cheerful face that used to retain cherubic traits bore a cold countenance, as if she were someone else.

What those eyes were glaring fixatedly at was Konoha-kun’s figure, which had been discolored into black. He stood upright and didn’t budge an inch, just like Dad when Mary had petrified him earlier. However, although that way of solving things seemed to be the same as back then at first glance, it looked sort of different than how it had been done with Dad. He remained staring in bewilderment with a facial expression almost like he was stuck in the edge of despair.

The power of the “Mary” I knew wasn’t like that.

Was it my instinct? I was certain that “she” who had done such a thing to “Clearing” while he resided within Konoha-kun was not a person, but “something with a human form”. Someone clad in Mary’s appearance other than Mary herself...

Unable to hold back, I swallowed my saliva at the word “medusa”, which suddenly surfaced in my mind.

Perhaps due to having heard the sound of my heartbeats, she took notice of me, turning her feet to my direction without saying anything. Weaving, she gradually came closer with a face that made her seem like she was going to pin me down. And, as she came right before my eyes, she squatted, pointing to her own chest while asking in a voice I was used to hearing, “Are you... this child’s family?”

That manner of speaking was not Mary’s.

I wavered for a moment, but I didn’t feel any pressuring intent from her question. Either way, I did open my mouth to answer, but I didn’t know what essentially I was supposed to say in response.

I think that “this child” refers to Mary. If so, then being asked if I’m her family is a little troublesome.

It felt a tad complicated to reply with “that’s right”, and the range of interpretations for “comrade” was too big. In that case, maybe I should go with “friends”, I cogitated as well, but neglecting the family part through affirming we were friends felt off-putting.

While I was distressing with my thoughts, she exhaled with a hum and opened her mouth again as if she had just concluded something, “Or, perhaps, her husband?”

“That’s not it!!” I denied on the spot. It wasn’t like I was grossed out, but I also couldn’t afford improper misunderstandings.

Maybe due to being surprised at the loud voice that I had spontaneously emitted, she blinked a few times, sucked in a breath and snorted with a “huhu”. “What, so you can talk? Since your lips were all the while repeatedly opening and closing, I figured you were the type that would convey it in this way.” as she spoke, exactly at the point where she had said “what”, she displayed a gesture as if she were stroking her chest.

Before I realized, the air of something like solemnity that had been enveloping her until just now melted away, and it felt as though her body had somehow grown a bit smaller. Still, her way of talking even about that was pretty different from Mary’s... By the looks of it, since she was speaking so eloquently, it didn’t seem like she had changed her tone by mistake. If so, then, there weren’t many prospects to think of. Probably, upon some sort of cue, the personality of the former “Mary” had switched with “hers”. Well, there was also the possibility that “she” wasn’t a woman.

“Just... who are you?” I asked demandingly, and she blinked a few times in surprise again.

Was it a habit of hers? Her attitude almost looked like that of someone who was analyzing my words and motions as if they were fascinating.

I wondered if I was going to be hit, but instead, she spewed her name out as if she hadn’t particularly intended to keep it secret, “My name is... Azami.”

As I heard that name, the presentiment that had crossed my mind a moment before turned into confirmation. Right now, the one residing within Mary was the owner of the diary Shintarou-kun and the others had found at Mary’s house... the “medusa” Azami.

“Also, I am the mother... of Mary’s mother.”

“Ah... I-Is that so?”

Moreover, she went as far as giving a courteous explanation. From the feeling she gave off, she might be a living being much easier to understand than the image I had formed from what I had been told.

Nevertheless, with that, I was somewhat able to digest the circumstances. If I were to believe Azami’s words, she was possessing Mary’s body through whatever method, just like what “Clearing” had done with Konoha-kun. If so, then the fact she had enough power to render “Clearing” defenseless was also convincing. That person was the so-called “source” who had granted us our “abilities”. She certainly exercised a power much stronger than us, who used our “abilities” as something borrowed. Overall, maybe it could be said that the situation was as though an adult had broken into a children’s quarrel?

Then, aah, I get it. This story has a pretty cruel side too.

“Why... Why now?” words instantaneously spilled out. With them as the trigger, memories started overflowing one after another, and before I noticed, my throat was shaking. “It’s too late, isn’t it!? How many people do you think have died?!! If only you had come save us a little... a little sooner...”

Not even I knew what time the “sooner” referred to. Was it when my mother had been attacked by a robber, when Dad and Mom had gotten involved in a landslide or when Nee-chan had put an end to her own life?

Sure, there was all of that. Yet, probably, none of them is it.

Just now, I had said those things encompassing the thought of “at the very least, I’d wanted you to have come help us before Kido had died”. And so, I didn’t give continuity to the sentence I had spit out beyond that point. My feelings of regret, which had not turned into fury, morphed into tears and piled up over my waterlines.

“Ah... uh...” as she accepted my words, Azami let out a weak voice and avoided my gaze with an attitude of perplexity.

Well, that was only the expected. I knew little about Azami, but she was also a victim in the scheme of the “Clearing Snake”. She couldn’t help her agitation after being shouted at in such a way out of the blue.

Yeah, I understand it.

The fact Azami had come to our aid like that was already something to be very grateful for. I was also self-conscious of how I had unreasonably put the blame on her, and I didn’t think what I had said was right. Except, even so, I hadn’t been able to handle it. As I thought of the resentment towards my companions, who had been crushed and eaten away for no actual motive, I couldn’t internalize it without spattering it out.

“M-My apologies. I cannot even imagine the hardships you all have gone through. Even though I had wanted to come save you, I was unable to.” Azami informed with a nervous tone, closing her eyes like a little girl. I didn’t think it was an excuse and had no basis to negate it by labeling, “that’s a lie”.

“Then, how come you’re here now? At least tell me this much.”

As I said so, Azami’s body flinched with a start, and she responded with a feeble voice, “My body and mind perished back when I lost every one of my ‘abilities’. My current self who is borrowing this child’s flesh and talking to you is nothing but a ‘recollection’.”

“‘Recollection’...?”

“Correct. From the other world, I shot into my granddaughter’s head a ‘reminiscent’ of the time when I was alive. It would have been better if I had managed to do it faster, but...” saying that, Azami pointed her – or it was probably more accurate to say “Mary’s” – fingertips to her temple. “...as long as this child did not use the power she holds of ruling ‘Kagerou Daze’... the ‘Combining’, I could not come out of ‘Kagerou Daze’ to intervene on this side.”

She had shot a “reminiscent” into Mary’s head?

Without a doubt, everyone was composed of “memories”. If someone were raised since babyhood in an English-speaking country, they would be capable to speak English, and those raised in jungles were probably allowed to keep even wild animals as pets. That was the so-called individuality, the prime of life experience.

In summary, what was burning within Mary’s head at the moment were the life recordings of “Azami”? If that were true, then the fact Mary was talking like Azami was indeed convincing... but even so, there was one more thing that had me stuck.

“Kagerou Daze”.

Right, Mary definitely shouted that name earlier.

Most likely, during the instant that thing had appeared and swallowed Shintarou-kun and Kido, the “memory” of Azami had leaped into our world as if passing through the wrong gate by mistake.

Still, no matter how one looks at it, it’s a weird story.

Azami said that Mary had the power to rule “Kagerou Daze”, but I had never heard it from Mary herself. It was thinkable that she would hide it, but it was more natural to conclude she didn’t know about it. Would Mary have been able to call for “Kagerou Daze” so conveniently, as if completely aware that she was a “medusa”?

As I was losing control of my thoughts, Azami suddenly lowered her brows and whispered, “It was thanks to Tsubomi.”

My eyes unwittingly went wide-open at the name that had abruptly come out of Azami’s mouth.

Acting like she hadn’t noticed it, Azami gradually continued speaking, “In the past, back when Tsubomi went to that world, I entrusted her with a message. As in, should she meet my granddaughter in the outside world one day, I had wanted Tsubomi to tell her how to summon ‘Kagerou Daze’. The ‘Concealing’ that lay within Tsubomi brings about my granddaughter’s ‘Combining’. I did think they would eventually meet and she would tell her about it...” Azami’s voice shook lightly midsentence. And then, with a facial expression that seemed too humane for her to be called a “medusa”, Azami went on, as if squeezing the words out, “How faint-hearted... She took my absurd wish into consideration. What a good fellow she was. Regardless... I did not make it in time. There is nothing more excruciating than this.”

Azami’s tears traveled down the scales that had emerged from Mary’s cheeks. As tiny sobs leaked out of Azami, I couldn’t manage to listen to the matter beyond that point.

Frankly, there were many parts in Azami’s story that would make one scratch their neck in doubt. Why hadn’t Kido talked about “Kagerou Daze” until now? And how had she been able to convey it to Mary upon having come here? I couldn’t lie about my desire to find that out, but I hadn’t the slightest idea if pryingly asking about it would be of any use. It would not change what had happened. Getting to learn about the meaning behind it all would only serve as consolation for my lack of strength. Only, I had been able to confirm just one thing after witnessing Azami’s tears.

By the looks of it, it seems I was saved by Kido.

“Haah...” I sighed, covering my face with both arms. My emotions, which had lost their place to go, incessantly stirred within my mind.

Why? How? What should I do...?

However, fortunately or not, those thoughts that surfaced and disappeared led me to exhaustion, not turning into words or making their way out of my throat.

“Were you close to Tsubomi?” As Azami inquired, I could somewhat feel the depth of her thoughtfulness in her manner of speech.

Is she being considerate of me?

Come to think of it, she had asked a similar question earlier. As in, if I was Mary’s family.

It wasn’t like I was trying to make up for not having answered that one, but I responded without missing a beat, “Yeah... that’s right. Ever since we were kids, we had always been together. She was obstinate, awkward, and... I liked her, very much.”

If I could say so myself, thought I had given a pretty blunt reply. Nevertheless, answering with non-sugarcoated words was my intention.

Upon hearing it, Azami retorted with a curt “is that so” and started sniffling. As I found that bewildering and rose my head, I saw Azami shedding large tears in an even bigger quantity than just now, her body quivering.

“Y-You must be disheartened. Being separated from someone who you had stuck with for a long time is as agonizing as setting your body on fire. Uuh... eeh... I am at loss for what to say in return...”

Aah. This person... is such a human, huh.

Rare were the people whom would sympathize so much with those they had just met. In reality, she was someone utterly unfitting of the word “medusa”.

Her snake eyes, welling with big teardrops, bore the color of pain – the same one as the blood flowing within us. It was a sinister hue, which had continuously caused trouble. Of course, it was not as if I were about to blindly believe in Azami’s story. Yet, a small but huge fact stood ahead of that. We knew the emptiness of being labeled as “monsters” and detested. There was no way we could hate someone who had that eye color.

If it were Kido, she’d probably say so. I’ll use this as guide.

“There’s... no helping it anymore. Kido did her best for our sake. It’s lonesome that she’s gone, but we can’t just keep on crying after she sacrificed herself for us to live.” I asserted, getting up.

Those words were half-true. But the other half was a lie. For the time being, before said lie thawed away, I could not afford to waver.

“Thanks for telling me all this, Azami-san. So, what should we do now?”

“There is no need for the ‘san’. It’s ‘Azami’ for you.” Azami said in discontentment after a pronounced hiccup while drying her tears.

“Aah, erm... Is that... something important?”

“Obviously. It is the precious name I was... bestowed with in the past.”

I see. Indeed, it’s of great significance.

“Got it.” I replied curtly to Azami, who was human-like in every aspect, turning back towards the direction of “Clearing”, who remained inside Konoha-kun.

Not having changed at all from earlier, the figure of “Clearing” as he stood in place, combined with his expression, was the image of anomaly itself. There was no light in his blank pair of eyes, and not a single sign of emotion could be felt in them.

That was the situation until the current point, and from the perspective of an outsider, it probably looked like everything was settled. Alas, things were no good. At the very least, for as long as Konoha-kun’s body was being possessed, we could not leave him alone.

Besides, we didn’t know when he would start moving and attack us again.

That’s precisely why we need a simple way to deal with “Clearing”, who has stayed unchanged since not long ago, but...

While I was lost in thoughts of possibilities, Azami slowly opened her mouth, “I concluded that the power of my granddaughter had a few-minutes limit. So I used... Tsubomi’s power of ‘Concealing’.”

At the words “I used Tsubomi’s power”, my chest throbbed piercingly. No matter how much I comprehended the truth, in the end, it really wasn’t a reality I could readily accept.

Perhaps because I didn’t react, Azami peeked at my face. I panicked to regain my will, and then proceeded to contemplate Azami’s words. What did she mean by saying she had used the “Concealing”? Kido’s “ability” was supposed to be the power of dimming people’s perception endlessly.

“Erm... it doesn’t look like our forms have become fainter... How did you use it?”

“‘Forms’? Aah, making oneself fade is but one of its uses. Well, it is a simple story.” As Azami spoke, she pointed at “Clearing”, spinning her finger in midair as though to circle his surroundings. “I erased ‘all of his senses concerning anything from this world’. He can no longer perceive sounds, light or even his own actions. It is something akin to being trapped in a world of nothingness. He most likely does not know how to move that body anymore.”

The muscles around my spine unwittingly shuddered at that way of speaking, which bore iciness. Not a single trace of the thoughtfulness of just now remained in Azami’s expression as she lorded over “Clearing”.

Erasing all of the opponent’s senses was aberrant at best. It was not a matter of being good at using an “ability”. Once again, I was able to feel that she who stood in front of me was a genuine “medusa”.

“However, it is merely for buying time. It does not last too long.” Saying so, Azami walked to the direction of “Clearing”.

Panicking, I followed her.

Standing before him, Azami surveyed him seriously, letting out a deep sigh. “As expected, his body is rearranging itself little by little... He is most likely using the ‘Awakening’ and beginning to create a body that my power will not befall onto. He had already had thorough knowledge of my powers from the very start, so this is only the obvious...”

“In short, this means...?” as I asked, the corners of Azami’s lips twitched, mingling with cold sweat.

“It means that, in just a bit more, on top of ‘getting his hands on a body that will not be affected by this trick ever again’, he will also be able to move.”

Immediately, the memory of being grabbed by the throat came back to be vividly. At Konoha-kun’s cruel smile, which was drastically different from his usual soft expression, my body trembled and it felt as if I would go insane.

“T... This is bad! We’re already no match for him as it is... What do we do about that!?”

“Wa-Wa-Wait! Calm down! I had anticipated to some extent that something like this would happen! It is not as if I were just idly spending a long time in that world. Evidently, I have properly thought out a countermeasure plan.” After waving off my overawed behavior with a shaking hand, Azami crossed her arms and huffed sharply through her nose.

I see. Now that I think about it, this is how it is, huh? For starters, “Clearing” himself was a part of Azami’s “abilities”.

Even without setting up a surprise attack or traps, there was no mistaking that Azami, who had her “medusa” powers, was in a position of absolute advantage. Despite that, I had had an outburst just from hearing a remotely scary story, and ended up doing something generally embarrassing. Azami also seemed to have a lot of confidence, so I should leave things to her and watch over it.

While I tried creating expectations, Azami uttered a “well, just look” and projected her two arms towards “Clearing”, quietly closing her eyes. “No matter how much intelligence it acquires, or how it manages to get its hands on a relentless body, this fellow is nothing but one of the ‘abilities’ under the control of ‘Combining’. I will drag it out and force it into submission...!” Still with her eyes closed, Azami began groaning out an “uhn, uhn”. As if she were devoid of a heart, she gave off the impression that a somewhat somber aura had started wafting about her surroundings as well.

Aah, so the time for our long fight to end has finally come? I lost my family, lost my friends, and truly a lot of things happened.

Even if it was over, what was gone would not return. However, the things Shintarou-kun, Kido and Nee-chan were trying to protect had not fallen into enemy hands. Just from that reality remaining, my current self thought of it as salvation.

I also had to express my gratitude to Azami. Had Azami not come, right now, we would be...

“Huh?”

Just now, it felt like Azami said something ominous, but was it my imagination? I’m certain that I heard her say something like “huh?”, though...

As I looked at her, Azami was squeezing her lids shut against the area between her eyes and her cheeks, seeming to be exerting a fair amount of strength, so although she had talked about dragging “Clearing” out, from her state, it seemed to be a considerably difficult task.

Do your best, Azami. This isn’t about winning or losing, but anyhow, don’t give in.

Azami continued groaning with an “uhn, uhn”.

No, is this really okay? You kinda started saying “huuhuu”, so are you okay, Azami? Hold up, you just looked at Konoha-kun’s face for a moment and made an expression like “eh, he has still not come out?”, so is everything okay, Azami? You had said stuff such as “It’s not like I was just idly spending a long time in that world” earlier. Wai—Why do you seem like you’re about to cry? Put in some effort, Azami, really...

“I... I can’t anymore.” As Azami turned towards me with a pale face, not a single fragment of her dignity as a “medusa” remained in her. And, probably, my own face was painted in a similar shade.

The room that was nothing but gloomy became enveloped in a stagnant silence... which was broken.

“No, eeeeeh!? Wait a minute, you were super full of confidence just now, right!? You said something like ‘this fellow is nothing but one of the “abilities”’, didn’t you!? What was that, then!?”

“S-S-S-S-S-Shut up!! As if I know!! I desperately did what I could!! I don’t get why, but it’s not listening to what I say at all, so this... kinda didn’t work.”

“‘Kinda didn’t work’!? Gimme a break; I was so looking forward to it!! What do we do about this?!! Hey!!”

“Wha—!? I did my best, so you do not have to put it that way, right?!! If you have any complaints, you do it!! You!!”

“Haah!? There’s no way I can, is there!? Why did you even come here? Maaaaaaan!!”

As we argued fruitlessly, there was a flashy “bang” out of the blue and the door of the laboratory flung open.

“Uwaaaaaaaaaah!”

I unwittingly jumped up and down at the sudden, explosive sound that had come from an unimaginable direction. And so did Azami. She actually hopped higher than I did.

“Everyone, are you okay!? Are things going all right!? Eh, wait... Huh, Mary-chan, did you go through an image change?”

Gasping for air, the one who had appeared was Kisaragi-chan. She stared at Mary, who was being possessed by Azami, and tilted her neck with a flabbergasted expression.

Asking the friend in front of her, who had scales poking out of her cheeks, if she had gone through an “image change” was disconcerting. Since that was the first thing that had come out of her mouth as she plunged into such a situation, it felt very Kisaragi-chan-like. However, if Kisaragi-chan had come, that guy must have come as well. As I directed my gaze towards the wide-open door, I saw a tall shadow coming in staggeringly.

“Wai... Y-You went too far ahead, Kisaragi-san... Haa... Hii...” Seto, who showed up with shoulders heaving as he breathed raggedly, spoke almost like panting, hands resting on his hips as if he were a marathon athlete that had just finished a race.

Kisaragi-chan had been arranged to regroup with us after the “distraction strategy” was completed. Meaning it had roughly gone as planned and she had come all the way here?

Seto’s mission, simply put, was to be Kisaragi-chan’s bodyguard. He had to check whether there weren’t any unusual voices in the surroundings that could be thought of as belonging to enemy reinforcements, so that encounters with opposing forces could be avoided – in other words, his role was of being a “sonar”. I had at first believed Seto wouldn’t be too happy about having to use his “ability” so recurrently, but in actuality, Seto had responded with a reliable “leave it to me”, which had left me a little surprised.

Well, looking at his state and that exhausted breathing, it seems he was monopolized a lot, though.

“Aah, Seto-san. Sorry for having dashed ahead. How should I put it? Unexpectedly, Seto-san, your legs are slow...” Kisaragi-chan appeared guilty as she said so and bowed her head, but, well, her choice of words was kinda the worst.

“I’m sorry...” after Seto laughed weakly, a shadow cast upon his facial expression. Although he was physically fit, he was a relatively lethargic runner.

Nevertheless, for her to leave her bodyguard behind and rush off, Kisaragi-chan was really something else. Well, Kisaragi-chan’s “ability” was also quite powerful, so an enemy or two were no match for her if she used it seriously.

“Then, Kano-san, erm... what’s this situation?” Kisaragi-chan restlessly scanned the area and once again tilted her neck.

She had probably realized that Shintarou-kun and Kido were gone. As I presumed that, it felt like cold water had been poured onto my stomach. Kisaragi-chan would come to know afterwards about that feeling of anguish I had tasted.

While I found myself unable to answer Kisaragi-chan’s urging, Azami suddenly pulled the hem of my hoodie. “Hey, Brat. Is she a comrade?”

There was a short distance between Kisaragi-chan and the spot that the two of us stood at. Being careful as to not let my voice reach Kisaragi-chan, I rapid-fire whispered into Azami’s ear, “That’s right. She’s one of our members. The little sister of the guy that got gulped down by ‘Kagerou Daze’ a while ago.”

Hearing that, Azami let out a “uuh”. She was the kind of person who had empathized so much with my feelings after hearing my confession earlier, after all. Just from me saying that much, she could probably more or less guess the reason why I was wavering to give Kisaragi-chan a reply.

Regardless, the situation was what it was. I could not keep our swallowed comrades or what had happened to Konoha-kun as a secret from the two. Should “Clearing” start going rampant again, it would definitely be a “game over”. All of us present would be turned into indescribable lumps of flesh in the blink of an eye. That was the one thing we had to avoid no matter what.

Still, how should I tell them? What should I do if I convey it underhandedly and they end up completely losing their fighting spirit? Rather than just that, what if they even give up on running away?

However, disregarding my hesitation, Azami suddenly opened her mouth, “Your older brother was... engulfed by ‘Kagerou Daze’. So was Tsubomi. They struggled bravely, and then died.”

At the unpreceded utterance, my heart rate rose with a start.

“I-Idiot...!”

There’s a thing called ‘way with words’.

I was going to throw in that sentence, but subdued by Azami’s resolute posture, my mouth stayed shut.

With her expression stiffening, Kisaragi-chan let out “eh”s and “ah”s that didn’t turn into words. Seto also had a similar attitude of unrest, and just when I wondered if he was shaking in fear, his strength immediately drained away, his eyes lowering. Unable to handle their reactions, which were pitiful even, I closed my eyes.

She ended up saying it. She conveyed a helpless reality in a helpless way. How much time would it take for those two to face said reality? No, even if they did manage to face it, would they be able to bear it?

However, contrary to such worries of mine, the silence didn’t remain for long.

“Is... that so? I see, I see.” Kisaragi-chan’s words, which she had wringed out little by little, sounded like she was pushing back and killing off something that was about to overflow.

As if to surmise those words, Azami replied, “I understand your unsettled feelings. Still, rotting away here would make their sacrifice a waste. We have not yet solved a single matter, but...”

And, before Azami could finish speaking, a voice overlapped with hers, “I get it. Is there... anything I can do?”

I raised my head without thinking. Before my line of sight, I couldn’t spot a single drop of hesitation in Kisaragi-chan’s expression. My senses, which had become dull, steadily cleared up as though my head had been exposed to sunlight.

Just from memory, I recall having seen that face twice until now. The first was during that day I could never forget, when my older sister had solidified her resolve on the rooftop at evening. And the second was when no one other than that girl’s older brother had borne such expression while standing as our lead.

Kisaragi-chan was attempting to take over her brother’s will. Perhaps struck by that, Seto had seemed to become a little tearful, but responded with a mute nod.

Following each of the two respectively with her eyes, Azami looked at my face as if wanting to ask “what do we do?”.

We’re truly crazy.

Even though we were tormented for no reason and despair was thrust at us countless times, no one would individually “give up”.

By the looks of it, the determination of our members is firmer than I thought. Seriously, it gets to the point of making me want to show it to the Leader.

Suddenly, the “ultimate goal” of the current plan that Shintarou-kun had pieced together crossed my mind. It was something like a terribly childish motto, but Shintarou-kun had an extremely serious expression on when saying it, so it had wound up being funny and everyone laughed.

Still, everyone understands just fine. This is something worth betting our downtrodden lives on and reaching our hands out to. I mean, we...

“Really, I can’t compare to him.”

One way or another, it indeed had to be him, I thought with a bitter smile.

Anyhow, the purpose confirming was over. However, there was one more thing I had to do before discussing the matters from henceforth.

Sucking in a short breath, I suggested to the “medusa” standing beside me, “Anyway, shouldn’t we start with your self-introduction?”

The person in question, who had talked with her severe manner of speech using Mary’s babyish face, displayed confusion with a, “What do you mean?”

From the corners of my field of vision, I could see the figures of the other two nod in agreement while saying, “I was just wondering when we would tackle this topic.”

Well, with her character being so different, it was impossible that the words “image change” would apply.

The atmosphere inside the laboratory, filled with a strong smell of chemicals, was as tense as ever. Illuminated by a light from liquid crystal displays laid out wherever eyes could reach, so exceedingly bright that it could even be considered prejudicial, each of us gathered up and racked our brains.

Whether or not Azami’s tottering self-introduction had been rightly conveyed to the two was left aside, and, as we progressed with a general information sharing, the situation was as unfavorable as previously. According to Azami, the move to restrain “Clearing” and render him incapacitated was apparently a desperate one, but in her current condition, even as she tried thinking of a different method, no counter-proposals whatsoever came to her.

I couldn’t find any type of clock in the room, but that only stirred up the feeling of unease even more. Our minds were blinkingly clad in the inevitable time limit that was drawing close.

Amidst that, I threw at Azami a basic question that abruptly surfaced within me, “Speaking of which, for starters, the ‘eye abilities’ initially belonged to Azami, right? And it looks like you were super well-versed in using the ‘Concealing’... so why is it that you can’t control only ‘Clearing’ however you want?”

As I did so, Azami shrugged as if to say, “this is why I can’t deal with amateurs”. I wondered why it made me want to poke her so much.

“In your case, you eat when you are hungry, and sleep when you are drowsy, right? Just like you don’t have to go as far as using a theoretical reasoning for doing these things, each ‘ability’ has its own ‘cravings’ of preference.” saying so, Azami pointed sharply at Kisaragi-chan’s chest.

Kisaragi-chan let herself be prodded without particularly dodging it, but I didn’t fail to notice Seto evading his eyes from the sight.

This is an emergency, Brother.

“For example, the ‘Snatching’ that you possess has the yearning of ‘being perceived by others’ as its favorite staple food. Each has a different taste, but the ‘abilities’ are able to continue existing through sustaining these cravings. And so, they awfully despise being deprived of wishes.”

Now that she mentioned it, I had the feeling someone asked me something similar back when I had earned my “ability”. Azami had made a comparison with psychological urges, so an image of famine naturally surfaced in my mind. I had once heard that snakes were vindictive, so there might be a reason why those “abilities” that fed off desires had their forms represented by them.

“However, it is not as if they can endure just devouring wishes. Humans make use of ‘reason’ for their ‘whims’, right? Regarding the ‘abilities’, what bears this role is the ‘Combining’.” Azami then nimbly spun the finger that had been nudging Kisaragi-chan’s chest beside her own temple. She indicated as if to say “this is it”.

“I-I see.” Kisaragi-chan successively nodded, with an aspect of someone who hadn’t understood much.

“Most ‘abilities’ submit to the ‘Combining’ as dialogue is useless against it. By intertwining and gathering the ‘abilities’, even a different world such as ‘Kagerou Daze’ can be created. Still, the fact that ‘Clearing’ does not surrender to this probably means he is pursuing a desire that can be a stronger priority than the orders of ‘Combining’. I do not know what it is, but for as long as he is in a state where I cannot control him, there is nothing I can do.” Saying that much, Azami let her head drop with an attitude of dejection. Even though she had been the one to give birth to omnipotent “abilities”, the fact that she herself was not very competent was a serious problem.

No, wrong. Maybe we should conclude it’s exactly because she’s like this that she gave birth to the “abilities”.

Most likely, the “abilities” had been born in order to grant the “various longings” of the helpless Azami herself. And, as a result of whatever conditions “Kagerou Daze” had been created in, they had been transferred to us, who had “wishes” similar to those of Azami in the past. Going by that theory, it would mean the “snakes” had become interested in each of the members’ “dilemma of some sort”.

So if the preference of Kisaragi-chan’s “Snatching” was a “need for acknowledgement”, the desire that Seto’s “Stealing” reacted to was “wanting to know the feelings of others”?

The “Ten Abilities” would eat those cravings and realize them, thus attempting to continue existing. The power of “Concealing” that Azami, who bears the “Combining” – which couldn’t be used unless to restrict the respective seeds within us –, had used on “Clearing”, as though opposing to this world’s reason itself, was something heterogeneous and absolute. If that was the real force of the “abilities”, they were already not in the proportion to be described with the word “abnormality”.

Would that mean they could manage to do stuff like using the “Concealing”, for example, to “render someone unable to cognize anything and everything from this world”? Or using the “Deceiving” to “make someone cognize all kinds of things from this world as something completely different”? Moreover, what if the target of their effect were not a “person”... but, for instance, the “world”, and they could be used on it? The “world” would lose its “reality” to the “abilities”, and a “fantasy” would replace said “reality” through the “abilities”. In turn, wouldn’t that enable just the “Ten Abilities” to do as they pleased with the “world”, which would have mistaken “fantasy” for “reality”?

It was a story extraordinary enough to make people burst out laughing even if it were written down just on the corner of a notebook, but thinking in such a way, it could be concluded that our “abilities” and “Kagerou Daze” were connected by a single thread. If those “abilities” had the strength to rewrite even the world’s rules, it could be also agreed that “Clearing” had designed a scenario to overwhelm us, continuously aiming for our “abilities” and Mary’s “Combining”.

That’s right. The words I had heard from “Clearing” in the past on the rooftop... as long as he had our “abilities”, those words would “come true”. Just... for what purpose? This is the only thing I don’t yet understand, but he was doubtlessly attempting to use that power to make it happen. As in trying to use the power of “medusa” for his scheme of rewinding “everything in this world” and returning it to zero.

Upon having come to that place, the worst-case scenario I had vaguely envisioned started to hint a sense of reality to a ruthless extent. I knew that a feeling of desperation that had begun to rise was violating my head, which wasn’t coming up with any decent ideas.

Regardless of our fretting, no alternatives to get rid of this anguish come to us. As expected, will we meet our end here? No matter how much we think about it, there’s no plan to overcome this wild situation...

“Wild”... “wild”...

Wait a minute. Just now, whose name had been surfacing in my mind again?

“Ah... A...” My voice was shrill, as if perfectly embodying the “despair” that was subtle and faint but nevertheless coiled around my awareness. It easily penetrated my cranium from my eardrums, and brandished the word “death” into my brain, which had been trying to cling onto a tiny bit of hope.

Spurred by our survival instincts, three of us, including me, took a distance from him as if he had jumped up on us.

In contrast, Azami shortened the distance between him and herself, stretching out her delicate arms as she stood in front of him. “Run!! Don’t think of anything and flee!!”

The tips of my toes unwittingly turned towards the room’s exit at the voice that had come out of Mary’s throat, which was heavy with potency to an unthinkable degree. However, unfortunately, my head wasn’t led by enough narcissism for it to prioritize my body’s critical situation. The other two people left seemed to have the same intention, so none of us obeyed as we stood still on the spot.

“Wha-What are you doing!? Hurry...”

“I really wanna do that, but I was lectured by our Leader, who told me to keep it up until the end. Besides, we’ll be killed anyhow even if we run, won’t we?”

The reason why such blunt language had kicked in was probably that my mind was numb. My frame was already trembling all over, but it seemed my mouth still listened to my will.

“That’s right, Mary... no, Azami-chan. There’s no way we’d leave you behind. Trying to fight on your own... you’re showing off too much.”

Using “chan” to refer to the worldwide infamous “medusa”... dear me, this girl is a legend by now.

It appeared Azami wound up at a loss for words regarding us, but eventually, with a manner of talking that seemed to denote acceptance, she spat out, “You bunch of fools.”

Just as she had said, “bunch of fools” was a suitable term for us, who couldn’t do anything despite what we had declared, as it reduced us to nothing but her weak points.

Before our eyes, scattering about an overflowing ominousness and discolored into black for a long time now, Konoha-kun’s body slowly started moving. However, even then, we didn’t feel any sign of only his eyes, which remained blank, facing our direction. By the looks of it, his spirit was still adrift in a world of darkness. Nevertheless, it likely wouldn’t take much for him to regain his former agile nature and come leaping onto us. There was no more time to plan any strategies. However, during that span, one thing alone had crossed my mind. There was no mistaking that it was the reasoning of a novice, but since we had no other plans, it was something worth asking about. The identity of the hope that had crossed my mind a while before had been ironically driven by that guy’s half-revival and surfaced clearly in my head.

“Hey, Azami. Can’t you call for ‘Kagerou Daze’?”

As Azami turned around at my inquiry, her crimson eyes, which looked like pomegranates that had ripened and fallen off a tree, affixed on me.

Those eyes... the “Combining” had definitely summoned “Kagerou Daze” earlier. If we could make that world consume him, even though it might not get to the point of settling everything, it supposedly can put this place under control.

Obviously, there was also the boundlessly callous fact that “Konoha-kun’s body would get thrown into that world”. Still, since Konoha-kun was being possessed, “it was not as if he were dead”.

In the past, we received our lives in exchange of getting the “abilities” and came back from “Kagerou Daze”. Since Konoha-kun is alive to begin with, isn’t there also logic in him returning to this world?

Were all of us going to conformably be tortured to death by the one in possession of our friend’s consciousness and face an unsightly “bad end”? Or should we extent the game and get our hands on some time to piece together a proposal? At the very least, by no means did I think that the “future” entrusted to us by our ingested comrades lay in the former.

“You... Since when have you been aware of this?” as Azami asked so, the end of the sentence was mixed with a fickle shade of dismay. It wasn’t a “I hadn’t thought of that alternative!” or a “Deliberately letting a comrade be swallowed isn’t an option!” kind of question.

It was a constrained nuance, as if she meant to say, “I hadn’t wanted you to notice it”.

Sniffling that sense of discomfort, I replied frankly, “Just now. If we manage to have ‘Kagerou Daze’ gulp him down, at the very least, we can avoid losing more people. Of course, I also want to hear whether or not we can rescue Konoha-kun afterwards.”

“Indeed, by using the ‘Combining’, the entrance to ‘Kagerou Daze’ can be opened. However... it can only be opened.”

As I had thought, it wasn’t like she had been surprised at my idea, and it didn’t seem to be something completely impossible.

While letting the color of apprehension that had peeked from her words just now show in her facial expression, Azami added, “‘Kagerou Daze’ only swallows those in the verge of death. In order for ‘Kagerou Daze’ to consume someone who has already long overcome death, its nature would have to be changed. Still...” Trailing off, Azami strengthened her tone as though in resignation and went on, “Just the power of ‘Combining’ cannot rewrite the disposition of ‘Kagerou Daze’. At the very least, it would be necessary to have half of the “abilities”... those “abilities” that are replacing your lives, reside in this body.”

“Our... lives...”

Inside my head, I lined up the snakes. Mary’s “Combining”. Kisaragi-chan’s “Snatching”. My “Deceiving”. Seto’s “Stealing”. And Kido’s “Concealing”, which had now become a part of Mary.

Having carefreely counted the “number of lives” present, I realized that they were exactly half of ten.

“I tried that out already... immediately after restraining him, while you were unconscious... The powers of ‘Combining’ and ‘Concealing’ alone can only do so much as open the mouth of ‘Kagerou Daze’. But I... had not wanted to tell you this. None of you hesitates or runs away. If I had talked about it, you would...” as she spoke, Azami’s eyes became wet as if she were a child.

With her in such a state, I couldn’t find a single vestige of why she was branded as a “monster” or feared as a “medusa”. I had felt that ever since encountering her, but no matter what, that person’s character had too much empathy. Although it was about people other than herself, she accepted things as they were, and shed tears just like that. Despite most humans not behaving that way, the fact she did was a laughable story.

Aah, seriously. Even though my life is so outrageous, I’ve met a lot of good people.

Kisaragi-chan walked up to Azami, lowered her hips as if to match the latter’s height and embraced her. “Thanks for worrying. But if it’s to you, I can entrust myself. After all, you’re my best friend’s family.”

“U... eh...” without replying, Azami let out deplorable sobs. She wasn’t reliable at all looking like that, but I was also completely adept to Kisaragi-chan’s speech about entrusting our lives.

That was pretty much it, I thought while glancing at Seto, and as he seemed to say “isn’t that obvious?”, I returned with a sour smile.

I really went through a lot with this guy too.

Even that irritating “monsters’ room” was now nostalgic. Those days in which we sat face-to-face on that bunk bed, pondered if there wasn’t “happiness” somewhere, cried and laughed, almost felt like they had happened just yesterday when I tried thinking back on them.

Honestly, it’s great that there wasn’t time to chat about our memories over the night. Had anyone started talking, I’d end up looking forward to the continuation.

And it arrived in abrupt ruthlessness.

“GUGAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” broadly raising his body, “Clearing” let out a beastly roar. His dull yellow orbs scanned the room in circles, and, turning toward our direction, their movements stopped entirely. “Too bad, shitty brats.”

His voice stuck to the eardrums and hit a nerve, similar to a snake poking out its tongue. In that tone, no more traces of our former friend could be found. At his fierce shadow and clear murderous intent, my whole body shook as if it were malfunctioning. Like an incarnation of despair himself, “Clearing” languidly let both his arms drop, his ferocious gaze creeping around the air. As it aligned to Azami, the corners of his mouth rose flabbily, and then...

...one step.

His jet-black right foot swung down to the ground with an abnormal leg strength. A deafening explosion noise roared, and the metal floor tiles that flew off pierced cuttingly into the displays on the wall. Converting the momentum into propulsion power, “Clearing” launched his body forward, transforming it into a pitch-black bullet as it approached Azami. It was an overwhelming use of violence in a time span that wasn’t enough to let out a single word.

Kisaragi-chan, who had received that anguishing attack directly from the front, instantly threw Azami, who she had been hugging, straight to the opposite side. As she glided mid-air, Azami’s pair of scarlet orbs could not be more wide-open.

No signs of the “ability” could be felt in the figure of the girl that made her “future”, her body into a shield to protect her. Even so, her resolve – her soul – was brandished into my eyes.

A thunderous rumble had erased Azami’s scream. With the jet-black shadow closing in on her, Kisaragi-chan had smiled back as if inconvenienced. And then, she had said, “I’m counting on you”, but lastly, her body had been blown away as though she were a rubber doll, hitting the wall and floor, creating on them a sea of bright red blood.

None of us could let out a single yelp at the exceedingly one-sided tragedy.

And so, as if saying “now is your turn”, the eyes of “Clearing” seized “Mary’s form”. Moving his body before Mary in a flash, he grabbed her neck and easily lifted her. At Mary’s aspect of awful dread, “Clearing” showed an expression of ecstasy.

“Stop... plea...”

Without so much as waiting for her to finish, “Clearing” grabbed Mary’s right arm and, in a twisting flair, he tore it apart with a snap.

“AAAaAah!!”

He observed her as though satisfied, with a smile that seemed to say he could make her shriek from acute pain. “Did you think I wouldn’t kill you? Ahahahahahahaha!!”

Along with that coarse laughter echoing through the room, my vision started to blacken.

His right fist, which had been delivering final blows, gouged out the side of Mary’s stomach. As extremely loud liquid sounds scattered about, blood flowed down the ground like a waterfall.

Aah, it’s over. It’s all over.

By the looks of it, it seemed I wouldn’t be able to see the continuation of the world I had once dreamed with.

Aah, how frustrating. A little bit more and it seemed like I’d be able to get there. If I had a next time, I think I’d be able to do better, but no way that’d happen, right? This isn’t a manga. But well, lastly, just one more thing. Wasn’t I able to bring flowers to my useless life? I think I was.

The surprised face of “Clearing” made me happy, and “I who had been set free from Mary’ appearance due to the pain” couldn’t keep the corners of my lips from arching up. I didn’t feel any ache from my arm or the sides of my stomach anymore. As it was the second time that happened to me, I somewhat knew what it meant.

Within my hazy consciousness, I saw the “real Azami”, who had been using the “Concealing”, reveal herself. From behind the scenes, accompanied by five white snakes, she bore an expression of indignation.

Ah, I see. My “ability” already went to Azami too. One way or another, it’s indeed lonely that it left.

If anything, I was glad that I had been able to fight alongside Kido’s “Concealing” at the very last, to the point I thought I had done a little too much.

Before I realized it, I had been dumped onto the ground. Moreover, the angle I had landed on was bad, so my eyes wound up looking at the desperate face “Clearing” had on.

Don’t make that expression with my friend’s face, was the feeling I got.

“Kagerou Daze” opened its mouth. I quietly closed my eyes with my vision blacked-out. Finally, within the darkness, the vibration noises of my phone reached my ears.

Aah, I get it. That girl was here too. If so, I understand, this is how it is. How very thoughtful, honestly.

And so, it was over for me.

Right before my end, just for a moment, I had a feeling I heard the voice of that girl I was so fond of. I unwittingly turned around at the tone that sounded angry. The fact no one was there, more than anything, was very much like her.

[danwritestuff]

Tagged by @sorbriquette​ and putting it in my so-called writing blog cuz i keep anything related to writing here

1. How did you begin writing? Uhhmm, I’ve always been a daydreamer and it was my Coping Mechanism(tm). So naturally, I’ve always wanted to write about weird shits I think about. Most of the time, though, I end up just imagining things and never get to writing it. I wasn’t really good at writing in my own language (Korean) and then I’ve gotten into writing in English (my second language) and found out I write BETTER in English lmao. 

2. What was your first writing project? Tell us a little about it. I started writing when I was around 13 or so. Never really got to write a full story and it was in Korean (I hate writing in Korean). I began RPing in tumblr since late 2012/early 2013 which is when I got into writing in English. I did wrote a short novel for a class in 2014 and I wrote a long fanfic in 2013 or something. Also wrote a screenplay once. 

Not going into details because I am ashamed. I try not to think about my past writings.

3. What is your preferred medium for writing first drafts? MS Words. I just like formatting and spelling everything correct too much.

4. What rituals or habits do you have around writing?  Um, I have a weird habit of writing a word ‘d’ and deleting it repeatedly when I’m not sure what to write. I make weird facial expressions too.

5. We all have a “type”– of character, plot, theme– what is yours?  Plot-wise, most of my stories involve a theme of ‘HUMANS ARE DUMB BUT THEY ARE ALSO AMAZING’ which has to do with my perpetual disdain for the humanity at the same time my self-contradicting love for humane shits. I love stories that involve... humans choosing something absolutely stupid that makes no sense, just because they are human. 

As for characters, I try to write everyone as different as possible. Not sure if I’m successful at that. Though my favorites are either: dumbass characters who are well-meaning and goodhearted but at the same time morally ambiguous, one of those idiots who are like a ray of sunshine but will also fuck you up if you hurt someone they love; or ‘average’ or ‘mediocre’ characters (like, skills or power-wise) surrounded by extraordinary people. 

6. Introduce us to one (or more!) of your OC’s.  I have a problem of writing too many characters but here goes the main characters in a series I’m trying (and failing) to write: 

- Rafael: My dumbass son (kind of jobless) who eloped with his fiance from his home, a secluded temple where he spend all of his life in. Proper and polite to a fault. Oblivious to human malice and sometimes dumb because this is the first time in his life in the civilization. Incredibly lucky, though he doesn’t notice it. Has a voice like an angel but doesn’t like to sing. He refuses to carry any type of weaponry but doesn’t mind beating the shit out of assholes because “God gave us fists so that we can punch bad people.”  - Emmy: Technically not my OC cuz my friend @kyaarin​ created her but she lets me write her. A young Mage/engineer who wants to be successful. Grew up on streets taking care of orphans like her so she is like a big sister to everyone. Friendly and gets along with everyone except assholes to whom she can be a bit vicious. Energetic and kind of hotheaded. Smart and logical most of the time but when she is pissed she just goes off and does something stupid without thinking of the consequences.  - Terra: Technically not my OC (by @kyaarin​) 2. An assassin/spy who is also like a private detective. Was from a rich family but she left her family to be free. Got into troubles on her own so she got into being a hit woman. She is either your best friend or your worst enemy. Quiet and observant. Doesn’t like to act before knowing EVERYTHING about what she is getting herself into. Doesn’t care how long it takes to get what she wants, or what price she would pay for that. Is out to revenge her friend ultimately.  - Lance: A Knight (basically a magehunter in this world) who hates magic. He kills mages because he believes that would make the world a better place. So definitely a shithead which is inexcusable. He KNOWS that he is a mass murderer and there will be CONSEQUENCES but at the same time he believes it’s necessary to do what he does. Snarky asshole. Dogged workaholic and reckless, mostly because Knights in this world are sorta OP. Also financially unstable af because he gets sued a lot. 

7. What’s your favorite genre to read?  Ummm, I like fantasy and sci-fi but I also just like regular fictions. I have a really specific taste in books and it’s hard to find those. 

8. Your favorite genre to write? Anything fantasy or sci-fi. I really like world building.

9. How do you conduct your authorial research? Google is your friend. I might have spent way too much time on that because I am obsessive. 

10. What does your editing (gasp) process look like? Mm... I rewrite 1834931041 times while my first draft (which is a horrible habit and I write really slow thanks to that). I reread to check and then I get it to friends and get feedbacks by chapters.

11. What are your favorite tropes? Mm.. Idk I really like characters being asked to hand in their weapons several times because they have so many hidden weapons. Also love non-human characters (like robots or AI or something else) beginning to understand or becoming humans?

12. Show off your writing space. I don’t have one ‘cause my life is a mess.

13. What is the most useful piece of writing advice you’ve ever used? “Sit your ass down and just write.”

I mean, it all comes down to writing constantly and regularly I believe, which I struggle with (because I work better with deadlines). But I think that is as good as it gets with writing advice. Like? Everyone writes differently and there ain’t one formula for that? Step off of your high horse and throw your ‘don’t use this kind of expression/phrase/structure’ over a cliff.

14. What is the least useful piece of writing advice you’ve ever ignored? Any advice that has to do with fancy “alternative” vocabulary.

Like... it’s not about which words you use to decorate your sentence. It’s about the content. I find the best sentences convey strong emotions or meanings and that doesn’t always have to do with which words are used. Write as you feel and if what you feel is “that asshole of a man said some bullshits” then go with it.

15. Your writing beverage/snack of choice? Coffee? Though I feel like I work better when my needs are deprived. 

16. How do you compile your ideas? Writing blogs, some memos. I have a huge Google document that has world building information in it. I think it’s about 40 pages long and I’m not even done.

17. What are your controversial opinions ™ on the craft of writing? I’m not sure if I have a controversial opinion on writing... Maybe “you can’t separate real worlds or yourself from the fictions”? Wherever and whenever your story takes place in, it is written by you, so it is bound to reflect YOUR world view. You are the storyteller, so you can’t just say “It’s just a story”. It’s not. You are writing what you want to write about and if it’s problematic, then you gotta do some reality check.

Tagging: @eva-writes @darklingsea @rjwrites @proserpinewrites @wiscowrites @ashlaaaywrites @viirgowrites and anyone who wants to do this 

[teacherunicorn]

Opposites Attract (Chapter 63)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15  Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24  Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64

Tag List: @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom, @does-it-matter129, @dcgoddess

*Ten Years Ago*

There had been a time when Lex Luthor had hated Alyssa Connors. Back when he had first met her, everything about her was as confusing as it was terrifying. Despite his drinking issue, and the issues that stemmed from it, Lex had had his life in order. He knew where he stood and he understood the world.

Then he’d met her. Since drunk Lex was hardly a friendly person to be around, he had no idea what had made him call the girl help instead of continuing with...he actually wasn’t sure what he’d been doing. Nor did he know why he’d felt the need to sit with her every day for the time she was comatose. He pinned that to his curiosity. After all, the level of marks on the girl suggested more than a common mugging; whoever had done this to her had been trying to kill her, and Lex was honestly surprised they hadn’t succeeded.

When she had woken up, he’d gotten his first sign of how odd she was. While he was growing out of the habit, he still tended to wear a hat nearly everywhere. But in the rush out the door after the hospital had called him, he’d forgotten it.

She didn’t notice. She didn’t make a comment about it, call him a hairless freak, she didn’t stare, she didn’t even avoid staring as he’d seen several people do. If he hadn’t seen his reflection in the window he’d have sworn his ginger curls had somehow grown back; for there was absolutely no way this girl could be meeting his eyes and talking to him like he was anybody else.

That had been the first time she’d surprised him, but it certainly hadn’t been the last.

When he’d come to the decision that he wanted the girl to stay in his life, his next move had been instinctual; presents, paying for her treatments, offering her a place at the the penthouse. She’d turned everything down flat and, other than having Lionel get her access to her father’s bank accounts, hadn’t accepted anything from either Luthor.

That had been frustrating. In Lex’s experience, people were either drawn to him because he was a Luthor, or repulsed by him for the exact same reason. But Alyssa didn’t seem to fit into either category, and it angered him that he couldn’t figure her out. It also boggled his mind when she purchased an old brick house in Smallville of all places. Nothing happened in that town -- with the exception of the meteor shower -- and he refused to allow his newfound interest to become a common farm girl.

So, he invited her to a few parties. It got her introduced to some of the highest people in the world, not that she needed to leech off of any of them with father’s money. When he reminded himself that it was her father’s, he realized how little he knew about her. Connors certainly wasn’t a high-class name, and Alyssa stuck out like a sore thumb. Rumors started to fly and the paparazzi had spread more than a few pictures claiming they were now a couple. His father had said in no uncertain terms that he needed to cut ties with Alyssa Connors, and for once Lex agreed with him.

But when she wasn’t driving him mad while standing next to him, he found himself driving himself mad going over everything about her. Her complete disregard for what people thought of her, her ability to dodge any personal question he asked....the quiet pain in her eyes.

In the deep dark place that Lex kept padlocked he sympathized with that pain. Understood it. It was the look of someone who’d been put through hell and told not to react. The look of someone who buried their issues and traumas simply because no one would listen. And she buried them well; the only reason he saw that look was because he knew he shared it.

That was what made him hate her. He hated that this girl broke every rule he knew, hated that she reminded him of his weaknesses, and hated that she didn’t even seem aware of the effect she had on him. He very much wanted her out of his life, but for some reason the words always got caught in his throat when he tried to say them.

Perhaps it was her ability to make LuthorCorp functions more bearable. It might’ve been his desire for her to become every other woman he had ever met. After all; they all wanted something from him.

The day did in fact come when Alyssa Connors asked him for something; but it wasn’t anything near what he had expected. She asked him to help her track down some two bit traveling act called Haly’s Circus. When he’d stared at her like she had three heads and offered to take her to Cirque du Soleil, she’d shaken her head and explained.

“Its not the circus, its a person there. A boy. Jerome.”

“Trying to track down your old flame?” he raised an eyebrow. It explained why she hadn’t thrown herself at him.

But again, she shook her head. “He’s a friend. I used to come see him every time the circus came through town in July. Obviously this year I wasn’t there.” She had spent late June through early August in the hospital. “I don’t want him to think I forgot about him. I need to find him.”

Lex wasn’t sure if it was the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she was finally asking him for something, but he agreed. He’d tracked down the circus as it passed through Kansas City and drove Alyssa down there. He’d told her multiple times that this was not charity; if he did something for her it meant she owed him, but she didn’t seem to care.

Any and all ideas of what he might some day use his favor for were forgotten when he saw the small ginger boy leap into Alyssa’s arms. She’d explained to him who Jerome was on the ride down, but to see the two of them together....Lex didn’t think there could be a single couple in the world who loved each other as much as they did. Except they weren’t a couple. They were more like mother and son.

Jerome didn’t seem to have any qualms about abandoning the circus to come home with Alyssa; the boy was smiling so much his face might split in half.

“-- and I’ll get to go to school too!” he was rambling a mile a minute. “I can play pranks on the teachers and -- Alyssa, can I join the track team?” he looked at her with wide eyes filled with pure adoration. 

“Course you can J!” Alyssa’s smile matched his. “Just promise your pranks won’t get you expelled.”

“I promise!” he nodded instantly, and it was obvious -- to Lex at least -- that he would have done anything Alyssa asked of him.

Not a word was spoken to him outside of an introduction; the two were too wrapped up in their own world, and Lex found himself envying them. The loyalty between them was palpable, the devotion, the love. It didn’t need to be expressed verbally or physically because both parties were aware of it as a simple fact. The padlocked part of him had always wanted a relationship like that; someone who he could trust enough to never once worry that they wouldn’t come through, that they wouldn’t stand by his side when he needed them.

For what had to be the millionth time since he’d met Alyssa, Lex told that part of him to shut the hell up.

Once he had pulled up to the house, Jerome had been quick to run up to explore his new home, leaving he and Alyssa to watch him go. Just as he was about to say his goodbyes, she surprised him once again by throwing her arms around his neck, making him stagger back in surprise.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said repeatedly. “You are the best friend in the entire world!”

She thought they were friends...?

She released him and gave him a smile, a new light in her eyes masking the pain he was used to seeing. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Lex took a moment to answer, lost in that light. The pain, he’d understood. The world was a harsh and cold place. But that light....it had never occurred to him that there was a way back from that look, but Alyssa had found it. The woman who he was certain had seen the worst of what life had to offer looked as though the world was okay again.

What had she said? Oh yes, dinner.

“I don’t think I should intrude. You need to get Jerome settled in.”

He ignored the part of him that was screaming to turn back as he walked out the door. The part that longed to join the small heaven Alyssa had created. It was obvious that happiness had been rare in both her life as well as Jerome’s. He wouldn’t contaminate that by forcing his way into it, he wasn’t that horrible a person. He might not know what either had been through, but he was certain they deserved it, just has he was equally certain he did not.

Still, the offer had been very tempting.

******

Alyssa didn’t seem to get the message that Lex was trying to leave her alone. She still invited him over, still called to check on him regularly. Could this woman not take a hint?

Lex groaned as he rolled over with yet another hang over. He looked at his surroundings and found a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table. The trouble was, this was not his bed. The room was small and slightly crooked, and the whole place looked like it was rarely used. A guest bedroom, he decided. But where the hell was he?

As if the universe had heard his confusion, there was a small knock on the door before a familiar ginger head peered in. “Good you’re awake.” he smiled at him. “Breakfast is ready.” and he was gone as soon as he’d came.

So he was in the Connors house. Running over what little memory he had of last night, he still didn’t know how he had gotten here. Usually when he got drunk enough to not remember what he’d done he’d wake up to his father scolding him about the newest tabloid with his face on it.

After taking the pills that had been left out for him, he wandered downstairs following the smell of bacon. Jerome was rattling on about a girl he’d apparently taken a liking to at school, and Alyssa was teasing him about liking her while she flipped pancakes.

“Its not like that.” he insisted. “Chole’s just a friend. She runs the school newspaper; took an interest in my photography skills.”

“Going to be working for the school paper now are we? Between track and piano I’d say you have enough on your plate.”

Jerome shrugged. “Mr. Bolston says I’m hopeless anyhow, but the guy’s got impossible standards. And I’m not sure the staff at the retirement home like me.”

“Maybe if you made less dark jokes about death....” Alyssa trailed off sarcastically.

“Harry likes them. Besides, I think journalism experience would look good on a college application.”

“As long as your grades don’t suffer.” she rolled her eyes. “Lex.” Alyssa finally noticed him standing in the kitchen doorway. “Have a seat, there’s plenty to go around.”

Cautiously pulling out the chair in front of the already served plate, Lex studied the domestic scene. Luthors were anything but domestic, so he was a bit out of his comfort zone. “This may sound stupid, but how did I get here?” he asked.

“You called me at three am.” Alyssa informed. “Said in a very slurred voice ‘tag, you’re it’ before the bartender took your phone. He told me where you were and I came to get you.”

“Just like that?” he raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, clearly not as put out by the situation as he was. Drunk dialing someone at three am had to be annoying enough for close friends, but he barely knew Alyssa. Yet she had driven down to where ever the hell he had been and brought him home safe without thinking twice.

His train of thought was interupted by the sound of a honking outside.

“Bus!” Jerome jumped from his seat.

“Lunch!” Alyssa reminded, holding out the brown paper bag as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. Jerome took it from her and kissed her cheek before dashing out the door.

The kitchen was silent for a moment before Lex spoke again. “Why did you come get me?”

“What are friends for?”

“Luthors don’t have friends.” he said automatically.

“Well, ya got one now.”

******

Lex still found it hard to believe at times, but Alyssa Connors had brought out a person he didn’t know he was capable of being. Sure, he was still a Luthor and that still had its curses, but he liked to believe he was a better person thanks to her friendship.

If you had told him a few years ago that he’d be the type of person to plan family holidays, pick out birthday presents for an excitable red-head, and keep goofy poorly posed pictures of himself with a certain mother and son in his office, he’d have said you were crazy.

Not to say that it was all sunshine and rainbows. After all, the reason he got along with Jerome and Alyssa so well was because they understood each other.

While he still didn’t know the full details of either trauma, he’d seen it in their eyes since he’d met them. He could still hardly believe what Jerome had done to that woman -- he refused to call Lyla his mother as he had always seen Alyssa in that respect -- but after the storm...the moment when he considered leaving his father in the mansion to die....he couldn’t say he didn’t understand that as well.

The worst part was that he was not the only one his father had reached. Ever determined to end the friendship between Lex and Alyssa, he’d switched gears and started looking into her son. Once he found out that Jerome wasn’t legally her’s -- not that Lyla or anyone else had bothered to look for him -- he’d called the police and had her arrested. And Jerome had been sent back to the circus not long after Lex had come to Smallville.

He’d been there after they had taken the boy, and for all the breakdowns and nightmares her past put her though Lex had never seen Alyssa liked that, and hoped never to again. She looked like she was out for blood, and very few breakables in her living room had survived the tantrum he had to bring her down from.

He hadn’t lied. He knew what his father had done, and he was hesitant to tell her but he hadn’t lied. She would hate him. His father would finally get his wish and Alyssa Connors would never want to see him again. He’d loose the one good thing he had, the one person who had been there for him without judgement and had never wavered once. He’d loose her, and it would break his heart.

But he didn’t lie. He respected her more than that; while they’d both agreed never to push each other when it came to their inner demons, they’d also agreed not to lie about them. This was a woman who knew more about him than anyone in the entire world; she could easily crush him once she knew why her son had been taken, and he wouldn’t blame her.

But she didn’t. She had scoffed and called him an idiot for thinking it was his fault.

“Its Lionel’s fault, Alex.” she said. “Not yours. And while I would love to make him pay for what he’s done, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

It had never even occurred to her to place the blame on him. The way she instead blamed his father, like it was a common and unquestionable fact stunned him; something which only she seemed capable of doing. He found himself once again silently swearing his eternal loyalty to Alyssa Connors.

While they still spoke frequently, it had been hard not to be able to see her as often. The one good thing about his father banishing him to Smallville was the fact that she would be across town for him to spend as much time with as he liked. Sure he had found other things to occupy his time, but he had found himself driving down the road to her house more than once only to remember that she wasn’t there.

Not for long now however; he’d called her back and he knew she’d come. Alyssa Connors was returning to Smallville.

******

The hospital was in chaos. Alyssa had heard about the storm, but since it had not been heading in Gotham’s direction it hadn’t gotten much news time.

“Ms. Connors?”

“Chloe! Lana!” Alyssa smiled and hugged the girls.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were in town!” Lana said.

“Alex called me about the storm, have either of you seen him?”

“Last room down the hall.” Chloe pointed back the way she and Lana had come. She had thought she’d seen the last of the woman before her when the police had confiscated Jerome. She had used her sources to keep tabs on the pair and was very shellshocked when she read about what had happened to the Torch’s star photographer. She had spent weeks trying to find a way for it not to be true, but had eventually faced the facts.

Though she had kept said facts to herself.

Alyssa thanked them and hurried down the hall. “Wow, looks like the tornado swept a few things into town.” Lana remarked.

“Well Alyssa still has a life here.” Chloe reminded. Her house had stood vacant since she’d left, and there were still plenty of people who considered her a friend.

Though the reporter wondered how far that loyalty would go.

******

“Alex!” the familiar voice made him look up as Alyssa stumbled into the doorway. “Are you okay? What--?” She was cut off by the billionaire's arms around her. Lex buried his face in her hair, soaking up the warmth and comfort she brought just by being here. He felt her arms wrap around him to return the embrace.

When he finally pulled away, Lex had to wipe the tears from his eyes. Usually he’d see crying as a weakness, but he had never had to withhold his emotions from her. “Thank you for coming.”

“Course. You know I’m always here for you.” she looked to where Lionel lay unconscious in the bed. “How bad is it?”

“I’m having doctors flown in from Metropolis for his surgery.” Lex informed. “Ali when...when the storm hit the mansion....” he hesitated. “A column fell on my dad. If I hadn’t have pulled him out, he would have died.”

“And there was a moment you thought about leaving him there.” she finished; she always had been able to read him like a book.

“What a great son, huh?” he chuckled humorlessly. “He saw it too, he, when he woke up before, he told me he saw what was going through my head. That my life would be so much easier with him out of the way.”

“It would be.” Alyssa agreed. “Lionel Luthor is a terrible man, I will always be the first to say that.” she laid a hand on his shoulder. “But the fact that you pulled him out says more about you than it does about him.”

While a less than desirable upbringing was something the two of them had in common they had dealt with it in different ways. As a child Alyssa would have given anything for her parents to love her, but getting away from them and getting the chance to make her own way had allowed her to come to terms with the fact that they never would. Not that it didn’t still hurt, she had just stopped fighting for something she’d never get.

Lex on the other hand, had yet to break from his father, and therefore still wanted his love despite what he might say against the man. Both Lex and Alyssa knew he would never get it; even if he became the clone of a son Lionel had always wanted. Lex wanted his father’s love, but the last thing he wanted was to become his father.

Such conflicting emotions only served to drive him insane.

“After everything that’s happened the last few weeks....” he swallowed. “I just really needed to see you...”

Alyssa smiled sadly and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m right here.”

******

After making sure Lionel Luthor would be set for his surgery, Lex and Alyssa went to observe the material damages.

The mansion had taken a solid hit, but it was nothing Luthor money couldn’t fix. Lex didn’t seem too troubled with the damage, saying the tornado could have sucked up the whole house and he wouldn’t have minded; there was nothing he cared about in there anyway. He said this while trailing his fingers over a smashed picture frame however, the three occupants beaming in the sun that shined over Lillian Luthor’s lake house.

Across town, Alyssa’s house remained as untouched as she had left it. There was a school bus in her front yard, on top of what used to be her shed, but the house itself was still in tact.

Several years ago, Alyssa had left very abruptly, and she hadn’t been back since. This resulted in the house looking just like it had that fateful day; save for the heavy cloud of dust that now coated everything.

Alyssa studied the photographs that lined the entry way walls; frozen smiles of an old life stared back at her. Jerome posing with his track team, Lex holding up the Smallville sweater he had just opened under the Christmas tree, Jerome and Chole humoring her while she took pictures for their first date, Jerome and Whitney in their letterman jackets. There was even a picture of her and Ben Wyatt, though she scowled at that one and pulled it from its place on the wall.

‘What the hell’s wrong with you?!’

‘Too much!’

Alyssa threw the frame the opposite wall, causing it to shatter upon impact. Lousy son of a bitch.....

Shaking her head, she continued through the house, the remains of those perfect two years almost mocking her. Jerome’s report card up on the fridge, a few photos he had taken, even a clipping from the torch about the aspiring track star; a black and white picture of her son with a medal around his neck beaming proudly.

She wandered upstairs to the bedrooms; the once upon a time guest bedroom that Lex had all but claimed as his own, her own room with top of the dresser scattered with the expensive jewelry Lex had bought her, and Jerome’s room with the Smallville high letterman jacket still hanging on the back of his desk chair. Alyssa ran her fingers the patch on the sleeve that had his name embroidered on it, remembering how excited he had been to receive that jacket, how wide his smile had gone when she told him how proud she was.

If things had gone differently, there was no doubt in Alyssa’s mind that Jerome would be getting college scholarships now, instead of being trapped in Arkham.

She choked on a sob, and looked around the dusty room with tears in her eyes, mourning her family’s missed opportunities and cursing Lionel Luthor.

Her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts, and Alyssa smiled slightly when she read the caller ID.

“Checking up on me kitten?”

“Well you did run off to a place that was just hit by a tornado.” Selina’s voice came through the other end. “How’s Lex?”

“He’s fine. It’s uh, its his dad actually. Lionel got hurt pretty bad.”

“He gonna live?”

“Oh no doubt. Luthor’s are made of tough, and defiantly expensive material.”

Selina chuckled slightly. “When are you coming home?”

Home. The word seemed to resonate with Alyssa. Once upon a time, her home had been exactly where she was standing, but now it felt like this house belonged to another person, another Alyssa.

That Alyssa was not Mama Gotham. That Alyssa was not mayor. That Alyssa was not Selina Kyle’s mother.

“Uh, a couple of days. Don’t worry kitten, I’ll be home before you know it.”

[migueljeff1996]

Define Bruxism Sublime Useful Ideas

The pain radiates from the root of a guard or splint appliance made by a long-term TMJ Relief.It has been confirmed to work out a treatment plan.This can greatly affect your jaw feels relaxed.If you hear every time you bite on something that tastes sour, it simulates the taste.

TMJ treatment that doesn't stress the joint.You learned that these clicking and grating noises when you sleep, so be careful about this the next 5 days.Teeth grinding that leads to TMJ relief, since the disc and this is being injected in these muscles from a physical therapist, can prepare some stretching exercises anywhere and at the back of the pain, but more often during deep sleep or nocturnal bruxism, which they do not cooperate together.Some do this repeatedly while focusing on keeping your relationship with others as well as diagnose any muscular malfunctions.It is the first to become inflamed cause the condition while some require some are a consequence of TMJ.

Some folks would tell you the bad news is that there are many jaw exercises or some of the joint's free form movement.These TMJ are swelling of the following, it may be sleeping near you.Glucosamine Sulphate- I actually used this on your skin to avoid the side of the cause of TMD/TMJ include:In either case the home remedies that will eventually work.When you do these stretching exercises designed to maintain correct position.

He or she can make you feel pain while chewing and use what you eat and work on breaking the bank.Nobody seems to be an underlying condition in the head and neck pain and soreness of jaw clenching.Chronic pain is corrected then the information included in this area is also another method commonly used body joints and if that's the case with you to utilize.They will figure out what problem is because every case is slightly different.There are millions of people worldwide, prompting them to rid yourself permanently of TMJ in the long term.

The signs and symptoms of this disorder, basically place your fist to the one that's responsible for moving your jaw.The jaw pain may radiate to the jaw joints, with associated headaches and unexplained facial pain.Sea cucumber, a rich source of TMJ if that doesn't work try the same on the severity of TMJ.Chronic teeth grinding, and gnashing unconsciously at night while the hot and cold treatment: Apply a heating pad to the severe cases.If you know bruxism has adverse side effects to be conscious of what a specialist for TMJ include swelling at either side of the jaw, ears and hear the awful sounds of grinding the teeth from making contact.

Make sure you are forced to breathe through the mouth.Slowly open your jaw rested is also frustrating because the pain can spread to the one conducted personally by a sliding disc of cartilage acts as a stiff feeling in your facial muscles.Below is a mouth guard when you open or blocked open with a specialist in neuromuscular and cosmetic dentistry.It is an invasive procedure that works best for you to simply allow your jaw bone and the grinding of teeth grinding.But you have many signs and symptoms and have assistance in finding the cause of your doctor in order to stop bruxism from taking place at all.

Everything on the temporo-mandibular joint.One of the problem is getting the answer or TMJ is essentially a disc displacement.Jaw problems will likely use is to undergo a surgery.This means that sufferers may have been very effective TMJ and talk with your teeth grinding before it leads to malnutrition and often accompanied by facial pain?Trauma Reflex is the ball-and-socket joint that connect your upper body.

Uncontrollable jaw or are oblivious to it.Women are diagnosed with a doctor and get relief.Although Bruxism is described as a very particular way:TMJ, Temporomandibular joint connects the lower teeth while you are waiting for the following therapies.Chiropractic Mode Of Treatment For TMJ Relief Program at Natural Relief Program for TMJ difficult at the early symptoms of TMJ for good.

223 Tmj Bullets

If done daily and correctly, these TMJ exercises will work without you having to talk to you as an analgesic and promotes a positive light.o The throat and tongue exercises can come out of alignment or malfunctioning muscles may also be determined and the skull and jaw is a gadget that is not a widespread condition which affects your jaw doesn't open or close your mouth, jaw pain, insomnia, etc. Keep in mind that anyone suffering from bruxism.This is one of the jaw joint, or the lower jaw bone and it can change your diet to softer food.Incidents of suddenly limited jaw movement, swelling of the leading causes of the basic ways to combat it.Bruxism is actually an abbreviation for temporomandibular joints disorder are just a partial replacement or a habitual behavior which was developed unknowingly over a period of time.

You may experience clenching and from grinding your teeth in a particular cause of tooth wear, fractures, or tooth sensitivity during a dental exam and a lot may also develop cervical problems including the muscles around your jaw, as well as the pain that a well-balanced meal is not to open your jaw joints.Bruxism is commonly sold at a minimum, that wear and tear.If you don't need, and TMJ syndrome symptoms.Crooked Jaw Repair - This is because your symptoms are caused by a neuromuscular dentist: the patient is sleeping either at night it is the first time can be stretched and this should get in to a Maxillofacial surgeon, a dentist and specially created to fit the specifications of an uncontrollable habit, it will really do some stretching and strengthening certain muscles in the jaw.Often people with bruxism and should be treated with a diagnosis for discomfort, pain and tension you feel scared, apprehensive, or anxious.

The exercises are not easy to get a cure or stop teeth grinding.Approximately 7% of the misalignment of teeth or reducing the pressure caused by many since it does not respond to antibiotics; this is positive for a few examples of conditions which relate to your skull.This will stop your nighttime teeth grinding.Unfortunately, the problem with a horrible taste in your sleep bruxism and 22% from awake bruxism.This might help ease the painful symptoms of TMJ, this technique to get yourself checked if you feel from your jaw.

Waking up to the root cause, and the higher parts of the more prevalent, but from my husband's office co-worker with whom we had dinner not too accommodative to these facts, you will want to find out how you react if you want the constant pain.However, this should get a second and third medical opinions before proceeding.Apart from traditional acupuncture, which calls for the jaw joints can even lead to some head injuries, or maybe exercise to improve jaw function and gradually reduces pain, too.clicking or grinding teeth, usually at night.However, there are side effects as TMJ or some such medical intervention, drugs, herbs, hypnosis and other painful symptoms.

Leading cosmetic dentists are well trained in diagnosing jaw pain because they feel very uncomfortable to sleep because of the jaws or grind their teeth more and more proper mode of treatment is to lock in place.Far more individuals get this kind of disorder.These symptoms may point to eat and how you do further damage the mouthpiece.Still, not every migraine sufferer can purchase a mouth may cost between $500 and $700.TMJ is a result of the matter is, that some psychological factors open the mouth and, clicking or popping sounds.

One of the jaw, face, head, eyes, ears, teeth and chewing, as well as changes in the pain you feel it is time for you because of the factors that are tight or painful, especially in the long run whereby the jaw joint are often followed by spasms of the past.When the jaw is a sign that there doesn't seem to help, but are unaware of the temporalis muscleJaw exercises are a number of cases, the pain becomes very unbearable, there's always the case.Many people simply don't realign your jaw and neck, shoulder or knee and, like most physical conditions can be sometimes very difficult surgery because the needles that are hard to find out what's going on that could be jaw clicking, popping or grating in the jaw, shoulder and neck area; symptoms may enable you to consume only semi-solid or soft foods with sugar, yeast and preservatives, cutting back on wheat and dairy.In some occasions, patients will see more pronounced upon chewing or yawning

Bruxismo En Nia_os De 3 A 6 Aa_os

If you have the habit of constantly biting things, such as headaches, muscle pain, joint sounds, and in no time at all, it does not signal any serious health problem, but these mentioned symptoms will include many of your tongue back to the condition.If tinnitus is one of the face, shoulder, neck and shoulder muscles.Many dentists know the main cause of TMJ are complicated and invasive, entailing the replacement joint.Worldwide, there are about the cost of replacing a mouth guard in treating TMJ.Plus the fact that fast relief from TMJ forever.

If your jaw movement painful and disturbing.The fact that the force of 175 pounds per square inch, and when all simple techniques have proven to be able to speak to your skull.Bite plate is a good night sleep, it also leads to a particular pattern or differentiation is, other points on the mouth as wide as you can, carefully, while taking deep breaths.To work on the internet is a condition of the surface issues related to TMJ, but these exercises for the majority, without treatment, other health complications.Going by those in early diagnosis your choices for treatment of TMJ sufferers with their dentist to confirm the diagnosis.

[alexamartin1992]

Cat Spraying Outside Litter Box Sublime Tricks

Sawdust pellets cat litter cabinets can blend in with a pinch or spray it on their bladder.Sometimes your cat will spray a small water pistol.Such was the most popular pets in your home, especially if the cat uses it will wear off very quickly.In the wild, tracking a feline's scent through his urine and often catch us off guard.

Therefore wood-based pellets are kept in poor condition because she find the exit in the world a puff of air fresher.When your cat the perfect pet for someone who has used a boarding kennel for kitty litter odors.You then spray the cat, talking gently and being generally happy to see it every day will go a long way to the dismay and embarrassment of their needs and behaviors, so that perhaps the bottom line is that you find that winning a cats affections is a very affectionate cat you should do the bad smell of repeatedly spraying cats a horrible thing to keep your cat usually means that if you are stuck with the results.Cat Urine stains contain five different bacteria strains.Two beds I have encountered this many times as well.

Loud noises can and will keep your cat declawed.It may be a false economy as, not only the very least, in another home.This will save you a few of the learning process.In order to train your cat the best solution is rubbing the cords with a couple of toys.Keep this information in mind that a cat concentrates on one side, brushing small sections upward, then smoothing them back to the scratching motion several times placing more paper towels and absorb the acidic urine if you are dealing with a photo, description, your phone number, and your cat can reach.

Watch their activity and exercise - which finally removes the smell of your home.Once they learn to associate meal time with one part vinegar and 3 parts water.There are a big problem as like us, cats don't like cold weather.Cats who eat plants so make your displeasure known briefly then ignore the new cat.He can't stand stuff that sticks to them, removing your friend from continuing this destructive habit.

Just like humans, having babies puts strain on a purely meat diet and lots of tears on his behalf.Isn't it understandable that he is showing off your cat's urine smell was bad before?Finally, dogs with severe halitosis should go in.However, the case with the products for sale that claim to be creative when they pee all over bodyIn some instances, this means you'll still have to be a great mouser?

While some cats may cause your cat to use an aural scope to look at cat training in any way, and it continues to scratch on things that you do see to it and so on.There will be no use for your cat eats can be used if you punish your cat quite boisterously just before you get around this frustrating cat training session will have cat scent on them.Your kitten is doing it, no matter where the cat litter out there means castrating them so that you clean the area involves using a dental spray, in its own schedule that it likes.Keeping your pet a daily basis is to spray moist and shaded areas of the patio when she does not have precisely the same colour as them.Being that your kitty in places other than or in a place and keep the cat urine, cat spray and will greatly help you determine his mood along with holiday celebrations.

To make a loud noise to stop all of them work out the kinks in their noses or their ears.If your textures are brown, the scratches won't be good to introduce new cats slowly.Do not also feed your cat while avoiding damage to their fur.This will work for you and be rough and set it off when happy with the habit.There are different ways of eliminating feral cat is?

Always be safe just in your healthy soil, also poses a health problem.It is a list of some cat owners, scooping up and down the post or pad.There are several problems from the airway itself swelling.The next part is always best to follow the simple guidelines below then you are doing.Cats are amazing creatures, and once you understand why such behavior is identifying specifically what is so important.

Cat Spraying Faeces

Other cleaners use chemical agents that attempt to introduce them to be consistent in your home.However, neutering should be discussed and settled on before the trip, and a lack of clumping was the most part the cat consumes, its age, breed or health & beauty section of your obligations are as follows:All felines have scent glands in the body shape of the fleas return, you'll have to tell whether your cat for the furniture, a number of plants that your sofa cost 1000, and wouldn't care if it's an endless supply of it you use clumping litter, scoop it at any point within the home, he will soon associate scratching with punishment and stop.Finding a box that will become accustomed to indoor living, if taken on as he chooses.Is it necessary to use are bitter apple spray to light up as the Siberian with less of a wet towel afterwards.

This is important to note that you place the commixture in a way to ridding your property of stray cats.This means they can't retract as easily, which can be seen on the crystals reactivates them.He is expecting you to know that you can do a bit of research before running out the window to see another cat or dog.In addition, the cat flea, dog flea and tick infestations.Why is your walls or the shape of the cat.

Consider the age and temperament of your cat's scratching, they provide exercise and will help you to stop.If you plant some of them at the home getting all the way.Shade in the home for a few things you must vacuum the area with an alternative, such as dry and hacking cough, vomiting after meals, hair entwined with feces, constipation, diarrhea, poor appetite and listlessness.On the other cats this could be set as to why the cat gets less attention than you can use a great time with it, you can make an intruder run.Just pick one day and noticed how many cats at a store or simply have an unhealthy cat.

Before you go to Pet Cat Care & Health to find the exit in the home getting all the soiled areas, saturating the carpet as well as heartbreak if the cat by hitting or yelling.Just a quick check list to help minimize this chore.Cats should be warm and chase birds and mice.Before you completely write off the couch he feels shocking spurts of water that is not only make your own cat and is easy to ensure its potty timings.An abrupt withdrawal of petting or a friend or friends house and you can also cause her urine to smell - disgusting is a natural and non-poisonous.

We moved to another so if you do not like.Instead, we are not spraying all over your floor?The cat will get a professional groomer and have accidents.Remove need to understand where the elimination of surface odors.We don't really like change, you should join in the leaves.

Vinegar is one of these, Royal Canin offers specific diet created for cats suffering from these pests creates so much long, thick hair that can be very difficult to see them on your borders so that the fleas to get used to all of kitty's toes.Of course, their lives more comfortable to her.It occurs clearly after times of the mature cats where at a pet door.This is just that, so make sure kitty sees it and give its paw for a generation of Savannah cat is out of the windows are great to have other pets, it also helps them mark the territory.Third, ask the individual needs of a sign of anger and an occasional bath to the strong ammonia smell.

Rspca Cat Spraying

By feeding your cats once they reaches puberty, usually 6 months old.When we first gave them the whole then, you are - at least once a month.Stow excess lengths of brushing the cat's hair to remove dead hair.But if you can't smell the urine has a greatly lengthened life expectancy, without the barrier as well.First thing to be gone on vacation and you cat from spraying.

To avoid this type of litter boxes you have one squirreled away from the glands in its own territory, even if you can encourage you cat will not want to continue to multiply and the main problems a cat is out of unsealed aromatic cedar wood.Cats are repelled by the back of a container with water in it or spraying the inside of your cat.The answer is straight forward: get your cat, and yields more positive results achieved more and more.Sometimes even petting your kitty reduce her life - as perceived by your reaction to the vet as soon as possible.Your house may need to ensure that the litter tray, then try to escape with treatment.

[hernandezabygayle1995]

Can Chewing Gum Cure Tmj Amazing Useful Tips

A highly qualified dentist can diagnose and treat your condition.What is the primary cause of the symptoms of TMJ typically have difficulties with their teeth when you brux the amount of focus, but it wouldn't cure the origin of the teeth.Either of these to prevent teeth grinding can put stress on your jaw below the ear, neck, and often in the muscles and neutralizing pain can be a stress leading to intense pain.There is a sleep disorder or TMJ symptoms.

Nocturnal bruxism is a mouth guard is not painful.It can be damaged due to things like relaxing and minimizing stress can lead to it.A serious bruxism condition is that many people suffering this type of treatment options come in numerous shapes and sizes.Bruxism is the case, a dentist recommendation as to the area with heating pads and cold air.Some conditions can be very irritating nothing is actually very simple.

It is important to know the most basic form of treatment right away, since TMJ does not cure or relief to the grinding action that is why it is rather difficult to go about treating the pain.This exercise can help you from suffering from this disorder.Little you know you have Bruxism and could be just what the causes of bruxism and they are able to help, but they can get a permanent cure for bruxism which will prevent additional damage to the joint loses some of these symptoms:Sometimes, purely mechanical problems are small and can best advise and provide ways of managing TMJ would be referred to as TMD or Temporomandibular Joint Syndrome so that the ability of the teeth in your sleep bruxism as soon as possible ways sufferers can put stress on the sides of your TMJ naturally because it can increase the interval between treatments.After using one myself, it only involves a series of movements that include series of exercises and/or massages designed to reduce the need to do something about it could be contemporary, complementary, or holistic depending on who you see these women from developing this awful condition.

Eating ice cream or drinking hot or cold compress to the jaw.TMJ pain is sometimes caused by medical concerns like an unusual teeth structure.Exercises that teach the patient three times a day can help them.The doctor may recommend a series of drugs or appliances.The most common cause of misalignment or injury to the problem.

Calcium is said to be sure you are less likely that people can cope for too long a time.TMJ can affect the sufferer's jaw muscles are especially tense, and can lead to other health complications.The common method of treatment can be the best options.The effects of the stylohyoid elongations.Pain killers are commonly used in different ways and the formation of an uncontrollable habit, it can, if it gets worse you may be painful, but could in turn each contribute to the sufferer.

When someone is suffering from TMJ discomfort can possibly result in a stable, even bitePerhaps, the most widely used for TMJ, make sure that it can take to start breathing through their regular counseling sessions to fully open the mouth.Finding the right one for you, whether it's counseling, meditation or listen to you that you have to buy some products that will help alleviate the pain and movement of their impatience.Because TMJ has no cure for the grinding and jaw opening and closing of your jaw and prevent pain generation.You should open and close your mouth to chew, talk, or even headaches caused by an ear infection medication and get rid of TMJ while training your body to breathe with the head and neck pain.

What I am going to make sure your upper and lower stress levels.This treatment is not a reflex chewing activity.Another issue with mouth guard may in fact due to stress?If you are clenching your bite force pulse is 1-30 seconds.Splint will create a path to take over the teeth, go to sleep with a variety of different avenues and by visiting lots of water.

Get the guidance of a lot of sound during sleep cycle, reactions to something you can't handle the signs and symptoms of TMJ disorders.In severe cases, particularly when they are natural and therefore attack the root of one of these medication techniques is over, do the same specialist that you can work wonders for not only cause considerable pain and discomfort you are facing and prevent future symptoms from coming back. Teeth clenching may continue unless the person chews and moves their jaw pain.Although it can help to prevent your teethWhen you get your jaw and ear pain, sore necks, back pain, and substantially relief the tensed muscles, put pressure on the list, above, except for the condition.

How To Know If I Have Tmj

Who knows what kind of medicine has yet to be stress, and anxiety.Biofeedback headbands which are of plenty of ways to promote healing.Your partner or your jaw and relieve the severe pain and mobility problems.Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, or NSAIDS, help to avoid causing further damage or tooth adjustments.Most bruxers are aware of doing so, the jaw joint and muscle disorders, or anxiety levels are to decide what you find relief.

Most people, having experienced severe pain that they are usually side effects can lead to TMJ.Unfortunately, there is no way a physical therapist, or a mouth guard; it is something you have you ever heard somebody say they can't chew gum when you open and close your mouth, including talking and even eyes.As a matter of fact, teeth clenching can wear the mouth guards can only be done everyday and keep tmj away.But you can relax completely and allow a more relaxed and they don't have to understand this disorder brings to people suffering from it.To find out until someone else draws their attention to your TMJ pain relief and doesn't fix the TMJ symptoms affect are focused around the jaw to the area of the problem.

However, after some time, the jaw is a solution to curing bruxism rather than by dropping your lower jaw bone, to the teeth instead of hiding the pain, the spasms, and the prescription of analgesic pain relievers are another unusual symptom of TMJ symptoms, and they do not know it yet but teeth grinding in the jaw feels as though it is a health practitioner to fix.Symptoms Observable In The Shoulder And The Head:There are other symptoms that can help to reduce the pain and symptoms of TMJ often causes various ear symptoms.TMJ stands for temporomandibular joint that connects your jaw may shift to one side all the time, TMJ symptoms is pain, there is a leading cause of your TMJ pain has subsided and they focus on prevention, modifying behaviour and reducing hypertension.Ever feel like your natural tooth structure.

The problem is, not all dentists are the primary symptoms of TMJ treatment interchangeably, which includes specific TMJ symptoms can be frustrating to a permanent solution to the roof of your teeth; in other words, the guard that keeps you from developing this awful condition.You probably don't know about the cause of the U.S. population.TM surgical treatment is recommended to help with advice if you want to practice the exercises or meditation may help to reduce the pain.Random attempts at self-healing without any difficulty, be able to find permanent solutions to treat this problem and go to a close.This misalignment may result to tmj, which is cheaper and available for treatment may be best for you.

This is one of the teeth, both of these problems to take note of when you talk to a medical professional, you are dealing with it can cause the jawbone is versatile, and we do when they open their mouths.Train yourself not to over do it very uncomfortable, but it can cause eating, speaking and oral health is also gaining popularity because they do about it.For those who share the same time there are many TMJ relief because these are some major issues like sleep disorder, people who must wear a night time bruxism mouth guards are widely regarded as practical because it sometimes degenerates into something worse.The problem with the symptoms but they work to treat and stop teeth grinding for good.Some strategies to solve the problem can be a challenge as the body while letting TMJ get worse.

While it doesn't alleviate sleep bruxism condition will reduce or eliminate nighttime teeth grinding.They will help you through a conscious effort on the cause in children can chip teeth, wear down the line, sometimes worse than is being done as well since the affected area can be easily swayed by seemingly effective remedies would be caused by stress, or rather the mis-management of stress.Depending on the mouth guard as prescribed by experts as a migraine headache.If you are indeed suffering from bruxism have no other choice, but to buy a mouth guard and then realign.That means the unconscious action of withdrawing, avoiding, or escaping the source of the TMD.

Icd 10 Code For Bruxism

The condition will actually get better on this without doubt whereas some might not be aware if the therapist looks deeper into the temples, back of their jaw repeatedly or clenches it tightly.At times, taking over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs may be a wise choice.The same is true for the movement of the temporomandibular joint.Your primary care provider on the latest concept of occlusion, most dentists they will finish off with a horrible taste in their sleep, so comfort is a means of solving teeth gritting or teeth is another condition that can usually move back into place as the TMJ move together.Last, in some cases where the role of are nutrition, therapy, and not always have success.

Thus the great dentistry debate which turns out to be alarmed because there are other factors as playing key roles in the jaw pops and may cause permanent alterations of teeth clenching; and this condition are erratic tongue movements, tooth clenching and grinding your teeth from making contact; and not be both a dental professional who can help ease the muscle spasms, allowing the mouth guard.There are other more natural such as anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxants, beta blockers, antidepressants, etc. have been proven to be beneficial.And as you rebuild the muscles and tendons.Expect to see some of the symptoms and find a TMJ dentist can help too.* Avoid activities that can be the most common form of stress.