#actually.. there is like elements to the fear i cant talk myself out of with reason because

[heartyearning]

i'm scared of graduating and leaving my comfortable known environment but i have to remind myself that i left my known environment to study here in the first place and like myself better now amen

[theambitiouswoman]

I am someone with a desire to socialize/build relationships/network who has always had to deal with unprovoked envy, hidden animosity, general unprovoked mistreatment which has therefore made me withdraw and suppress a lot of my skills. I’ve experienced these things in social interactions and even interpersonal and familial relationships. while I can be self-assured, assertive and confident, I have a history of people-pleasing and I notice that this makes me more susceptible to the things I mentioned above. I have reflected on this and determined that most people have been intimidated by me/my talents but that the manner in which I go out of my way to appease people or just be graceful, kind, and soft-hearted in general or makes them feel comfortable enough to project that intimidation by disrespecting and attempting to belittle me.

I have dealt with people’s responses to me by embodying my masculine energy in order to self-protect (lots of anger). Do you have any advice or ideas for a consistent routine to help me truly begin assert boundaries, prioritize myself and not allow others to take me out of my true element (powerful, creative, self-confident) while also still dealing with said people? I have tried in the past but particularly in interpersonal relationship I fail, due to the way I carry extreme guilt for prioritizing myself and due to fear of abandonment.

I love this question, i've been dying to talk about this so thank you!!!

In my humble opinion, it seems like you are at a point where you have done work on yourself, are trying to improve and have learned how to become more aware of your surroundings. This is actually really great! My take away when I read it is that you are stuck in somewhat of what I like to call a limbo position.

And this is something that I didn't understand myself when I went through a lot of the same pain points you brought up.

Some of the main reasons you may be in this cycle is because, for one, you may be continuing in the same environment or meeting the same people in new bodies. Or you are handling the situations with new people the same way you did before. I think thats the point you were trying to make.

I just want to first say that you are not an intimidating woman. Get that out of your head because it sets a negative thought pattern and will subconsciously keep you in a loop where you are repeating cycles. You are only intimidating to the wrong people. You may be settling for less or selling yourself short in regards to your expectations with yourself or your self worth. I say this with love, obviously. It's probably not even something that you realize cause you really do seem to have amazing attributes. If you didn't, you wouldn't feel the way you do now.

However, I really suggest you stop trying to water yourself down to make others feel comfortable. Because that is really what its coming down to. You cant make a shoe thats a size smaller than you fit. Time to change your shoes because its obvious you have outgrown these environments and have not realized that you are capable of so much more. You are letting the guilt from this make you limit yourself and thats totally not fair for you.

Which leads me to your next paragraph.

The issue here seems to be the lack of emotional control. It is not what you say, but how you say it. And that occurs because we are not fully healed from whatever wounds, or not confident in ourselves. Either or, or both. You should be able to and can get to a place with yourself where you can assert yourself with a calm, straight forward tone and get the message across.

If fear of abandonment is your thing, you may be tying yourself worth to others. Maybe as a child, you experienced neglect, inconsistent care, or emotional disconnection that planted the seeds of your fear of abandonment. So you should maybe start by challenging the negative beliefs that stem from these experiences, such as “I’m not enough” or “People always leave me,” and replace them with affirmations like “I am worthy of love and connection.” Focus on self validation by meeting your own emotional needs, learning to comfort yourself during moments of insecurity. Express your needs and trust that doing so strengthens relationships rather than pushes people away. Change your perspective in the same way i referenced about you being intimidating, to abandonment as a natural part of life’s flow, so you recognize that it doesn’t reflect your worth. Work on your emotional independence by pursuing personal goals, doing activities you love and self love habits. This will help you build more confidence and resilience with interpersonal relationships so that when someone tries you, hurts you etc, you feel confident enough to be like, "yeah, you don't need to be in my life." vs being overwhelmed by emotion out of the fear of losing someone who is not treating you how you should be treated.

Hope this helped.

<3

[uriekukistan]

HI RIN!!!

For the WIP ask: How about 3, 4, 10, 15, and 16? Hope you have a great day!

HIII THANK YOU FOR THE ASK :D sorry for the late reply i've been feeling kinda sick but i fear you've hit the yap button w these....though unfortunately i dont have enough of any of these written to provide a proper snippet my apologies </3 HOPE YOURE DOING WELL !!

3 - WIP I talk about (hasn't started yet)

this is a more recent idea that i just had and talked a bit abt on here i might refine it some before i actually start writing it, but in short i was thinking what if. when yuuji died at the detention center megumi accidentally cursed him? i’ve been thinking of yuuji as a rika-like curse or maybe (probably) something more humanoid but. imagine the GUILT that megumi would feel ooohhhggg it would hurt so bad i need to think more about this  but i have had the idea for a while about itafushi cursing each other at the detention center…..now that i have more time i can actually work on fleshing this out so 

4 - WIP that is secretly rotting my brain & 10 - WIP I started because because of a song

not to combine two asks again i SWEAR its related 

actually i don’t think i’ve ever talked abt this one before…maybe with like one person. and i haven’t started it yet either but it lives in my brain RENT FREE. but its a horror/angst idea inspired by jjk 266 because im EVIL

basically the idea is that in order to reach megumi’s soul, yuuji has to travel Through sukuna’s soul. in doing this, he basically experiences life as sukuna like all the atrocities he committed and cannibalism, some other things. and he’s conscious the whole time but can’t stop anything even he tried because he’s just living sukuna’s memories. ooooh the guilt the sickness the trauma i need to write this idea so bad

the reason i included 10 in this is because i first got the idea when i was listening to “talk” by hozier and the line about the voice that urged orpheus and the choiceless hope in grief. the fic doesnt really align with erm the rest of the song but like the idea of yuuji going through literal Hell to save megumi (like he didnt go through enough already) and the way i saw that in the jjk universe was sukuna’s soul

15 - WIP that is just all my favorite tropes bound together with the power of love

i would say koi no yokan but since i finished editing the last chapter today i feel like that doesnt count as a wip anymore :( 

now i’d say it’s my (unstarted) actor au because it has slow burn elements, historical elements (IM SO EXCITED ABT THIS), secret/forbidden romance…probably lots of meddling (/affectionate) nobara. i havent fully planned it out yet bc i don’t like to have too many active multichapters at once </3 but i love the idea of writing itafushi falling in love twice in parallel stories 🥹

16 - WIP that has an audience of 1 and it is me

is this an appropriate time to talk abt original work……………………………i’ve never talked abt that here before omg

it’s still in its infancy im talking world and characters barely in existence (i’m better at plotting first and building as necessary but idk idk) but this morning i actually came up w a title for it and a vague beginning and ending so i can start building more from there but. 

its a fantasy story set in a fictional kingdom (wow big shocker /s) and the idea that i’ve centered my plot around so far is this doomsday cult. here’s a lil peak into my lore doc (hides faster than the speed of sound) (yes i named the cult before the kingdom what about it)

the story is tentatively named (though i will probably stick with it) "when the sun bleeds red" after the first line of the prophecy. which to me not only refers to the prophecy but the type of imagery i'll be striving for with the more violent scenes kjdgfhfjdh

i'll be running away and hiding myself in a ditch now cant believe i spoke abt my original work publicly

[kingusukaras]

some (mildly disjointed) thoughts i had about the translation of most recent leona overblot scene from the second twst novel. unsaid disclaimer is obvi these are just my thoughts and youre free to disagree. i cant stop you

read more because i might ramble a bit 💆🏾‍♀️

i'll start by saying that i'm very grateful for the novel & yuureis translations, bc its given me so much to chew on wrt leonas psyche and mental state, much more than book 2 in the game did. i havent bothered to go looking for reactions tho, bc i can already kind of predict the takes i'll find (knowing how parts of the fandom talks abt leona generally) - and i do "get" it, in the sense that i do also feel the way he tortures ruggie before he overblots is upsetting - but theres so much to dig into here, i feel like its such a waste to get hung up on obsessively moralizing

(i'll mention here that to formulate these thoughts i'm also pulling from the translation of leona's post-overblot scene, plus some moments from the game that i'll mention specifically as i go)

for example, the things leona says pre-overblot, his meltdown about dreams being stupid and useless, how the savanaclaw students (ruggie included) aren't meant to question him; they're meant to obey quietly, sound less like actual things he's trying to tell them and more like him lashing out at himself. as in, he's more talking at them, not to them. skipping forward to book 6: there we see leona give jamil advice, but the implication underneath is that everything he's telling jamil are things leona wishes he had internalized himself - again here, he's talking to someone, but really it's also directed inwards. almost like it's easier for him to look at (and speak about) himself critically when he can externalize it as critique of other people

the other thing im curious about is the distant, detached persona he adopts when he's truly angry. this'll be quick because i don't feel i have enough information to unpack it properly, but if i allow myself to spin thoughts out from limited information: it could almost be a habit he picked up as a child - something he might've forced himself to learn as part of an effort to be seen as more of a 'model' prince. if people were afraid of his moodiness because they feared what his UM (he) could do, then if he swallows those emotions maybe he can mitigate that. this, ofc, being shot through with the expectation that, as royalty, any order he gives people will obey

the final thing, for this post at least, is unpacking the way leona lashes out at ruggie when ruggie defies him. i'm willing to make the very safe bet that most of the reading of this moment is focused on leona being angry over being defied at all, or general disgust at how small and weak ruggie is (appears) to be. and while i think both of those points have some element of truth to them, i think the larger aspect of leonas reaction is jealousy. ruggie somehow, despite everything, despite all of the disadvantages life has thrown at him, still has the courage to have determination. and i want to be very clear here: this is not me saying being poor or struggling is admirable because it makes you strong - i'm not naive and i'm not here to romanticize poverty. what i am trying to say here ruggie's tenacity - a tenacity his life circumstances developed in him - is something that leona lacks, and that's what he's jealous of. he's jealous of his inability to keep having that hope, to maintain that courage in the face of his own repeated failures

(an aside: isn't it ironic that part of the reason ruggie has that tenacity is leona? leonas tutoring, leonas effective leadership of the spelldrive club, and as housewarden?)

(an aside 2x: in many ways, 'giving up' can be seen as a luxury. ruggie does not have the luxury to give up, because it could very well mean that he doesn't eat that day. for leona, regardless of what he does he's going to have a roof over his head and three square meals a day anyway, so what does it matter if he gives up? sure, he won't be happy, but he'll be comfortable in a material sense, and isn't that enough? except, of course, it isn't - not for him. as much as he tries to deny it, he's as fiercely ambitious as the rest of his dorm)

[cwarscars]

I'm tossing three at you-

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?

😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?

⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse? 

Mun talks about the Muse

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?

i love writing a character so different than myself - like, not to be arrogant but i don't really see myself as a very nasty person (lol). i really am super chill, maybe dangerously laid-back and side by side with heidegger, we don't have much in common ( maybe our confidence at times c.c ). I love getting to write this character who is so much more than me - like, he's an older man who has experienced wars, battle, the world. he's powerful, in charge. he's like one of the TOP dogs. i find that so fascinating to write.

not just the social / status side of his character though but also his personality. i have a really good time looking at him and breaking him down. why does he do that? why does he do this?

i know a lot of people look at heidegger and just see an evil guy. they see a moustache twirling villain who isn't worth even bothering to look into. i lowkey see it as a challenge. like, as far as i'm concerned - if people are willing to see sephiroth as so much, they should be willing to pay mind to the other villains, too. a lot of the time, people don't because they aren't 'hot'. but i genuinly enjoy fleshing him out for me / my writing partners. everything i get right or that is like increased upon by square is a blessing and it always warms my heart.

it's also a lot of fun writing a villain. sometimes, i have situations where i am desperate to make heidegger do the good thing. but he wont and i know he wont. so when i write it, i have to challenge myself to make him do the bad thing. i have to find his reasons, his justification. i cant just half ass and either discharacterise him by saying 'aw no he does the super sweet thing' or be lazy and say 'hes just a bad lad lol', i have to actually work out WHY he's doing the shitty thing. i just love having that complexity when writing. it can be very tiring but it feels super rewarding.

😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?

hmmmm, i don't think so. i know some people may look at my heidegger and believe it's solely based off of the remake but he isn't! i tie elements from before crisis and the original in there too! i suppose you could say i ignore his design in the original - i don't see him being so portly, personally. but i do subscribe to the idea that heidegger would have a bit of a tummy; i see his build as being the typical former athlete who no longer works out as much kinda body, y'know?

but personality wise, i like to think i retain as much from his character as i can. all of the ugly included! his scenes in before crisis where he fucks up the turks / army, i explain as being due to an alcohol addiction / incompetence caused by this. and for the most part, remake has followed how he is in the original fairly closely.

a couple of things i carry from the original that haven't been shown / explored in the remake are

the idea that heidegger is beyond stressed due to having take over multiple departments within shinra ala soldier, turks, science department. this is talked about in the og, but not in remake. though i suspect part 3 may touch on it when hojo goes fully rogue. i love the idea of the stress slowly killing him lol

in the original, when the group go to the northern crater - heid's the only one who doesn't leave the highwind. i made a whole-ass story line about how he's lowkey afraid of the northern crater, it's like his biggest fear haha.

generally, although people may see me shitpost A LOT - i like to keep the character as close to canon as i possibly can.

one thing i do want to note on here is sexuality - as i know people would debate me on my choice to make him bisexual. i've always said i dont really write him as openly bisexual, he just kinda is. powerwash sim, arguably, made a point when he randomly comments on sephiroth being good looking. personally, i do think anyone can call someone good looking without it meaning a thing but yo, i'm using it as a point in my reasoning for his sexuality. :D his sexuality though ultimately stemmed from the idea that a man that looks like that has GOT to be hitting up the gay leather scene at least once in a while

⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse?

*fear and hunger empty scroll* -

o lord give young heid

i have been wanting a young heidegger thread for 84 yrs now. i have SO much of his backstory fleshed out and i made sure (somewhat) it all ties in the ffvii timeline / world. i just want to do anything from heidegger in his mid 40s below. i've written some awesome stuff with people before set with heid in his 40s and would love to explore that and below.

thing is, i write him as being similar but so different back then - he's got the same edge though slightly duller. honestly, he's just a little nicer.

otherwise, i would be so incredibly gangster for a hardcore bdsm smut thread. no cap - it's something i've always wanted to explore but am EXTREMELLLYYYY like picky about how to go about it. not everybody has the same limits in terms of writing, triggers etc and i'd HATE myself if i crossed a boundary with someone so i'd have to ensure the other person was comfortable / everything was chill / what limits heid could push etc. but i'd find something like that fascinating to write!

[numberonepartyboy]

uhhhhhhh

redemption way:

odon realises hes been manipulated by the overlord all this time and betrays him (after a lot of thinking ab their relationship n why she follows him. doesnt turn rigth away.) helps the ninja to get away by making their army turn away from and saving other civilians from the crystal army. very nervous to confront overlord.

odons emotions bubble up from all the stress and it lashes out at overlord instead of garm rumi n lloyd. dont get to kill him as their energy was drained out by the crystals but make an opening for the others to attack him. after defeating overlord run away to the forest and have a breakdown.

doesnt know what to do with her life post crystalized.

dont suffer the crystal rot like harumi or others in this one. but have everlasting effects (damaged lungs, bad eyesight and have a coughing fit everytime he breathes a little too hard. or laughs too hard)

lloyd wants to reach out to her but doesnt know where she is. finds him in a forest dehydrated and almost dead/unconsious. nursed back to health by the ninja. have a Talk with lloyd.

have been living w ninja for sometime but it feels like a slob so they leave them (no note or something). return back to old locations and shake up their memories as lloyds henchman and their friendship. make their way to the monastery and find cole. odon dumps everything they fell to him and cole comforts her and now they have trauma dump bond after sometime. (^idk what to do w this just take it pls. i just need to establish cole/odon qpp)

post merge have been picked up by the administration and now work a 9-5 under jay/his assistant. have to help him not to ruin his health and keep away him from smoking n drinking n try to make him actually work. bad at this as she is nervous about knowing that he has lighting powers (jay doesnt know this, odon keeps this a secret from him in fear that he will shock them to death.)

post merge have amnesia. saw arin but dont know who she is. lol

revival of the dead way:

odon doesnt leave overlord and stand by him until theyre been fatally wounded by oni lloyd. bleed out the whole fight and after overlord has been defeated run away and die in a forest from both the crystalization and wound from lloyd. have cursed themself as they were dying. in the departed realm seeing old villains (HAVING A SHITTY TIME) post crystalized lloyd doesnt go to find them, as he has conflicting emotions about odon. lives w the thought that he killed her.

post merge its body has been found by ras before drs1. have been revived by him/his master. since their revival, she still has crystals scars and pink crystal eyes that glow in the dark. his voice is hoarse and dry. dont like that they help another villain and try to kill themself but realise they cant die and are immortal. (still feel the incruciating pain of dying from the last time). ras gets them the Thing that he made nokt wear is drs2. ras' master is very interested in her as overlords n time twins ex goon. (dont know about this, change when part 2 comes out)

meets jordana and dont like that shes here. very aggressive towards her. jordie thinks that hes like cinder but odon wants her out of here as they see themself in her.

has faint visions/dreams of ninja and other Stuff. have frequent migranes and headaches. dont tell anyone

drs1-2 happens. they try to stop ras from the inside but fail everytime. this will have consequences tried to save kai n bonzle but got beat the fuck out by ras ^_^

now have to go to the tournament. have no elemental powers <- ?

theyve going through. more trauma. thats all i can squeeze from myself for now

[babyboywilson]

4, 7, 26!

Oooooh thank you so much for asking, love!! <3 i hope you’re having a great day!

4) Are there any writers that inspire you?

Yes! So so many!! @chaoticdean inspires me with her incredible angst skills. @fellshish inspires me with their ability to write something fun and yet so impactful. @you-cant-spell-subtext-without inspires me with her ability to write anything from soft and cute to adventurous to just this brilliant ideas. @one-more-offbeat-anthem inspires me with her stunning AUs and how well she captures her characters in everything she writes. There’s tons of other writers in the fandom who inspire me. I could easily list so many people here who I am so impressed with and in awe of <3

7) What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Descriptions and details, for sure. For me, dialogue comes easy. I can write that without any hesitation. But the descriptions and details within a scene (how the characters move about or what they see or what they’re doing) is always something that’s been a struggle for me. I try really hard now when I’m writing to slow down the moment and take the time to try and add in descriptions and details, but I still have this constant worry that it’s not good enough or that it doesn’t flow or that it feels disconnected.

26) Is there anything you’ve wanted to try write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Yes, there actually is. So I had this huge plan for a 100k word fic. It was this huge widower arc fic with baby!jack and then Dean stepping up to be the sole caretaker of Jack. But then Cas comes back to help take care of Jack and to pine after Dean and it turns into this huge case fic involving a case they have to take in Disneyworld (with a lot of angst and pining and general baby shenanigans mixed with Disney world cuteness). I’ve desperately wanted to write it, and I got like 4k words in, and then I panicked because i got scared and didn’t think I could do it. And I stopped writing it. Someday I really want to be able to write it and post it. Because writing something that long and intricate with balances of angst and fluff (and getting to combine it with something Disney related) would be a dream come true for me. But, alas, I talked myself out of it because of fear.

35 questions for fanfiction writers!

[random-mha-thoughts]

Small Things (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Anon requested: “I have a request! BakugoxFemale Reader. Fluff please! Ok bit o context first, the reader has like a size manipulation quirk but cant really control it. Alrighty here’s the basic idea: so Baku picks a fight with her, The reader is very self conscious and stuff and tries to stop this because she knows its not a good idea. She ends up shrinking herself to 2 inches tall for a few days and has to stay with Baku. He ends up finding out that she likes him, and hijinks ensue, cuz he also likes her uwu.”

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word count: 1,959

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: I’m really sorry this came out this late anon 😭 Please forgive me!  Passover started this week and I was helping my parents clean house between my online classes, and I had no energy or time to be doing anything, so I’m sorry.  I hope you still like this and you’ve been waiting patiently for it!  I ended up changing the last part so Bakugou confesses first because that’s the logic that felt right with the characters, and I kept it a little shorter than I intended since I wanted to get this out asap, so I hope that’s okay.

Participate in my 1K followers event!

I want to die of embarrassment, I feel so small.  No, seriously, I'm like two inches tall, I'd rather die.

As the rest of the class watches in horror, Denki had to be the idiot who breaks the silence into a fit of laughter.  "(Y/n)'s a real midget now!"  He's having himself a good time, doubled over like it's the first joke he's heard in his entire life, Sero and Mineta chuckling right next to him.  If I hadn't messed up, I would've stormed over and punched them all out.

Unfortunately, mistakes have been made, mistakes I have no control over.

Bakugou had walked into the class in the morning while I was talking with the girls and challenged me to a fight in his cocky, brash manner.  I, of course, refused because there's no way I'm facing someone like Bakugou and winning in a fight.  My size manipulation quirk could be pretty useful and effective, but I don't have the best control over it.  When it comes to shrinking and expanding other objects, I've already mastered it, and I'm great at manipulating my size to be bigger, but I've always refused to practice shrinking myself.

As I stepped backwards, shaking my head violently against his request, he gained each step back on me.  "Whaddya mean 'no'?!  You're telling me you're afraid?!" Bakugou bellowed.

I finally bumped into the back wall and screwed my eyes shut.  "No, I don't want to, just leave me alone," I pleaded feebly.

Bakugou towered over me like a thug, his signature scowl morphed into his face.  "Look at you.  When you train and you're big, you're such a big baddie!  Only when you're in your tiny, normal size, you act like a coward!  You're nothing unless you're bigger, is that what you're telling me?!  That you're useless and unconfident when you're this height, tiny?!"

I was so embarrassed by his insults.  I was hearing exactly everything my thoughts say in silence, but said out loud so I had to face them, and everyone in the room heard them.  They all probably think the same thing he does.  I felt like crying as I curled into myself against the wall.

When I blinked my eyes open to wipe my tears, the first thing I saw was Bakugou's shoes.  That's when I knew I'd messed up.

This is so much worse than being just shy of five feet.

After Kaminari's little chide, my face heats up in shame and a new set of tears starts to form.

"(Y/n)-chan!" Uraraka bends down, shock and sympathy mixed into her eyes.  "Are you okay?  I can't believe you finally shrank like this!"

I try using my quirk to grow back to normal size, but I can't.  "I-I'm stuck," my voice shakes out, more high pitch than before.

She holds out her hand to the ground.  I get on and curl up.  "Just get me out of here, I've embarrassed myself enough."

"What's going on now?" Aizawa stands at the front of the classroom, arms crossed and aloof as ever.  He's one hundred percent done with us at this point.

"(Y/n)-chan shrunk and she can't grow back to normal size, ribbit," Tsuyu explains.

Aizawa locks eyes with the fuming Bakugou in the back.  "And I'm guessing you had something to do with that?"

The boy snorts.  "How was I supposed to know she would freak out like that?!"

"Well, she's your responsibility now," our teacher orders.  "You're gonna have to help her grow back to normal since you made her shrink.  In the meantime, you'll have to take care of her needs."

Both of us are less than thrilled about that.  Balugou shoots a death glare at me in Uraraka's hand.  "Teme..."

Aizawa bristles, his scarf starting to levitate around his shoulders.  He doesn't even have to do anything but stare down the boy so he snorts and sits at his desk, grumbling about his fate.

"It's okay, (Y/n)-chan, you can sit at my desk for now," Uraraka beams at me, setting me down on her desk for me to sit.

I bury my face in my hands.  How did I get so misfortunate?

Aizawa wasn't kidding when he said Bakugou would take responsibility for me.  The boy was forced to copy notes into my notebook after class, study with me, carry my bag, get my lunch, and other things I take for granted being normal size.  However, even through all that, I still stayed two inches tall.  As such Aizawa used his silent glare to pressure the unruly kid into keeping me in his room for the night just so we can hopefully talk over our differences.

"You better not pull anything weird, you hear me?" Bakugou warns me with a growl.

I'm perched on his shoulder as he walks us to his dorm room.  I can't say I'm not nervous being alone with the boy for the first time, I'm not sure if he'll squish me like a bug or throw me out the window first chance he gets.  As soon as we enter his room, he puts me down on his bed.

"Don't touch anything until I come back, stay right there," he points an accusing finger at me before grabbing some lounge clothes and heading into his bathroom to change.

I nod my head quickly, scared out of my mind and already on edge.  I swing my legs off the end of the bed as I wait, my heart hammering in my small chest.  I'm afraid that he'll start throwing more insults at me once we get to talking again, and then I'll end up disappearing into the size of an eyelash.  Burying my head in my hands, I quietly groan to myself.  I'll never be good at my quirk, will I?

"Why are you crying again?"

I jerk my head up and compose myself, avoiding his eyes.  "No reason."

Bakugou rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatedly, kneeling down in front of me to stay level.  "If we're gonna talk, you have to look at me at least."

Clasping my hands together on top of my lap, I tap my thumbs together nervously.  "I can listen to you fine even if I'm not looking at you," I retort, too soft and unsure for me to sound convincing.  If anything, it gives away how nervous I am.

Another annoyed sigh leaves his lips and he aggressively scratch his head.  "Fine, I'll just talk then," he grumbles before taking a breath.

I steel myself for his potential yelling, squeezing my eyes closed again like the coward I am.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, dumbass.  I'm sorry I even asked you to fight me in the first place if it made you that nervous."

I relax all my face muscles and ease open my eyes.  Bakugou's not looking at me, but I can tell that he means it, even if he still sound aggressive about it.

"I don't know why you'd feel nervous about fighting me when you'd probably kick my ass no question, all you'd really have to do is make yourself bigger and crush me or make an object twice my size and knock me over the head with it, but whatever.  I didn't ask you to fight me just to pick on you.  I don't pick fights with people I know aren't worth my time.

My stomach stirs.  He believes in me?  He thinks I can stand against him?

"You're always so confident in your quirk during practice that I didn't think it would be a big deal, so when you were backing down like you were scared, it wasn't right.  I thought you were just holding back from me.  Until I realized you're actually scared.  And then I tried taunting you because I know you're capable of doing better, I thought I could somehow get you to open up and get you fired up to show me otherwise, but I guess it had the opposite effect."  He finally looks me hard in the eyes, making me gulp at the intensity they burn with.  "I know you need to hear someone say this.  You're not weak, you're strong and you can kick anyone ass if you wanted to, whether you're small or big, and I admire that about you."

My breath catches in my throat.

"Yeah, it's better to look all scary when you're bigger, but being smaller has advantages in a fight.  You can maneuver better, you have the element of surprise, you can reach places no one else can.  You're not nothing without being big, you still have a lot going for you.  You don't need to cower in fear just because you're smaller than most people.  I know you're self-conscious about your height the way you are, and that's what makes you lean into expanding yourself, but..."  His face turns slightly pink and he struggles to get his next words out, finally saying them quickly like he's ripping off a bandage, "I like your height just the way you are."

My heart skips a beat at that.  I'm already touched and rendered sheepish by the amount of praise he's showering me with, but the last one is a nail in the coffin.  He likes my height.

Before I know it, I'm no longer looking up at him, instead looking down.  Holding my hands out in front of me to confirm it's not an illusion, I dart back and forth between them and Bakugou's blank face.  It took that kind of sentence from him to put me back to normal, how embarrassing!

"Huh, so that's all it took."  I'm more frightened of the smirk growing on his face as he stands and leans over me sitting down on his bed.

I clench my fists and prepare for a world of teasing only for him to place his hand on my head.  Instinctively, I look up only for him to lean down and place his lips on my forehead.  If my cheeks were pink before, they're certainly rose red now.  "It's very hard to kiss your forehead when you're only two inches tall," is the smooth line that rolls off his tongue.  "That's another thing I like about your height, it's perfect for me to plant surprise kisses on your head whenever I want."

"B-Bakugou?"  I finally summon words, only for them to be this dumb.

His hand slides down from the top of my head to my cheek.  "I like you, stupid."

Another throb in my chest.

"I was gonna confess to you somehow at the end of our fight, but you freaked out and ended up the size of Tinker Bell, which was actually cute the way you sat on my shoulder around school for the past few days."  His smirk briefly softens into a genuine smile, one that takes me a moment to process in case I was hallucinating it.  "Well, I'd rather you give me an answer quickly before you end up shrinking yourself for another week.  What's it gonna be?"

My mind still reels over everything he's just admitted to me, overwhelming myself to the point where tears well up in my eyes again.  "I don't think you'll like how emotional I am," I rub my face and try to play it off.  "It might annoy you after a while."

Bakugou sits down next to me and wipes my eyes with his thumbs gently.  "Did I also mention you're the perfect height for to also wipe your tears away like this?  I don't believe in that destiny crap, but I think it means something."

With that, I collapse my small body into his chest, my embrace around him providing my answer to his proposal.

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

hi, id like to get some input on my type, trying to keep this short as possible w/o being too one-note. im bad at figuring out what i rly want or why i want it, statement of purpose essays=hell. im qualified so who cares abt my motives. i dislike long-term projects bc whenever i get a new idea i wanna pursue that instead. i rely on fear of failure to get things done. im the most productive successful lazy bitch i know, churning out high quality bs & cutting corners so i can get back to fun stuff. i can never plan more than a year ahead cuz i change my mind so much. i want to be attractive & popular but cant be assed to put in consistent effort for it. ig i live in the present but in an adjacent world, always daydreaming, unaware of my surroundings or time

idk how to approach romance cuz any attempt at being heartfelt w/o turning it into a joke/insult makes me cringe & im scared of rejection commitment & intimacy. im ashamed to have never dated or even kissed anyone at my age (22), my biggest failure. i hate feeling controlled & i dont wish to control others either. i HATE when ppl tell me to do things “because i said so.” but.. i’m drawn to power struggles. im attracted to powerful & popular ppl, but im also competitive & compare myself to them. i crave connection so bad but not w just anyone, it has to be someone i’d be proud to be seen with, but everyone who falls into that category seems unattainable

i refused to see a therapist forever bc i didnt want my family to have something else to mock me for. i amass awards/honors to invalidate ppls criticism. my therapist now tells me i put too much weight on the opinions of others, but i dont trust myself to accurately judge my own worth. dont fully trust others opinions either, esp when i get conflicting info, so im in a constant state of overthinking but knowing nothing. i bring up the same topics of identity & love over & over w ppl hoping for some new insight like fomo but for info

im rarely bored thx to all my ideas/interests. i like making & taking personality quizzes, love categorizing things. making playlists/pinterest boards are go to procrastination activities. my fave hobby is talking to ppl, but i get weary if they dont challenge me. used to be shy but acting/public speaking came easy. i just wanna impress ppl & create something significant

im good at brainstorming multitasking & theorizing but i dont trust my theories. i think in interconnected systems instead of single instances (in politics especially) so its hard to communicate all of what i want to say in an organized succinct way. prone to verbal diarrhea. im not too concerned w being good, but my extant morality revolves around equity, justice & whats best for society at large. i despise aristocracy/inherited power. ppl who try to shove their personal moral codes on everyone annoy me. anyway im trying to figure myself out & hopefully knowing my mbti or enneagram will gimme some clues/help to improve myself

Hi anon,

Honestly I’m not sure. I’m thinking high Ne due to the lack of planning because of shifting interests, the tendency towards bullshitting, daydreaming, issues with commitment, brainstorming, etc, but there are arguments for either Ti or Fi here; there’s nothing exceptionally analytical/focused on logical consistency that stands out as definitely high Ti, and a lot of the items regarding morality could go either way (what one’s morals actually are is more a product of upbringing and experience; disliking others applying their moral codes to you is less likely to be high Fe, but any other type would have their issues). Based on the focus on other people’s opinion/impressing I think enneagram 3 or 4 (in fact, probably 3w4 or 4w3) fits best.

Given how clear Ne is and how Ti and Fi aren’t as clear I’d look at Ne dom (also the 3 elements) and would recommend you spend some time either digging into the enneatype (3 would indicate ENTP, 4 would indicate ENFP) or just Ti and Fi to see what resonates more with you.

[thetravelerwrites]

Monster Match #21: Astomi

The Traveler's Masterlist

For @moonlightreetops: Appearance: Mortal Woman, Pfp is me(straight brown hair, almond hazel eyes), short, scared, with sevral tattoos. Personality: INFJ, Cancer, loud, protective, generous, and I have a snort laugh; definitely a hugger. Therapist friend and proud. I believe I was born cursed to always be polite and kind to everyone. I'm not naive to the trouble I can get into this way but I still cant help myself. Oh! And I cry with every movie and sad commercial. It's annoying.

Hobbies: Hosting D&D, Collecting macabre things, Responsible Social Distancing. Likes: Roadtrips, Pretending I'm more fond of the outdoors than I actually am, Forest Paintings, My Nerd Family, Opposoms. Dislikes: Heights, Bugs, Cooking, Cockroaches (listed separately from bugs because I will panic cry)

Ideal Partner: Someone whose more grounded than I am but at the same time is understanding of my struggles and won't berate me for them. And preferably a monster who wont leer in my windows. (Still have fears of that from my childhood monsters) NSFW & SFW welcomed. My orientation is Pan. So you are free to throw whatever you like at me.

You’ve been matched with an Astomi!

Originating in Greek and Roman mythology, Astomies, also known as the Gangines, are an ancient legendary race of people who had no need to eat or drink anything at all. They survived by smelling apples and flowers. Megasthenes, a historian and Asian Indian ethnographer, located them at the mouth of the river Ganges. They are described as being hairy and having no mouth. When traveling, they would carry roots, flowers and apples to smell. They could die by smelling a strong, unpleasant smell.

There was a forest reserve near your home that you frequented to draw and paint. There was a section of it that was strangely green all year round, and you weren’t sure why. None of the trees were evergreens, so the hidden grove should have lost leaves and turned grey like all the greenery around it in the winter, but it never did. You never went into it, and you never saw anyone near it. It was just an oddity no one knew anything about. Lots of people said it was haunted.

The more logical minded people claimed there was a hot spring somewhere in the grove that kept the trees green, but that it was toxic to people, which is why no one ever went there. Though, that didn’t make sense to you. If it was toxic, why were there flowers and birds? The wildlife seemed unaffected by whatever odd supposed toxin existed in the grove.

It had struck your interest more than once, but you never went in. You loved ghost stories, but you weren’t necessarily keen on being in one. And the threat of a toxin was enough to keep you from venturing in.

Though, one day, as you were wandering close, you heard a mournful whimpering, as if someone were in pain. Your worry about ghosts and toxins flew out of your mind as you ran into the grove, looking for whatever was making the sound.

“Hello?” You called. “Is someone there? Are you okay?”

“Please!” They called. “Can you help me?”

“Yes,” You said, pushing past the thick foliage. “Just hold on, I’m coming. Keep talking to me so I can find you! What’s your name? How old are you?”

“Geras!” They said, coughing. “I’m ninety-eight seasons!”

“Seasons?” What was ninety-eight divided by four? “So you’re twenty-four?”

“I suppose,” They said. “But we don’t measure time that way.”

“We?”

“The people of the grove,” They said. “My family and I.”

“Wait,” You said, untangling yourself from a tree. “People live in here? I thought there was a toxin in the air that killed people.”

“What?” They actually laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. “No, of course not.”

“What about the ghosts, then? Are they real?” You asked with a laugh, but you were met with silence. “Geras? Geras! Keep talking.”

“Hurry, please,” Geras said, their voice hoarse. “Please.”

“Almost there,” You said. You finally managed to fight your way through heavy branches and dense underbrush and into what looked like an apple orchard. There were all sorts of apple trees there, and in between a copse of heritage apples was a person laid between the rows, unmoving.

“Geras?” You called. You couldn’t see much of them beyond the long brown hair all over. You could only tell that they were tall and gangly.

Next to them was a bag that stank to high heaven. At first you thought it could be poisons, but you looked inside and found a litany of gross hunting sprays: skunk essence, liquid ass, insect repellents, deer musk, and the like. The odor was so strong that it made you gag.

“Is this the problem?” You asked, breathing through your shirt. They nodded weakly. You weren’t surprised. It made you feel woozy, too. “I’ll get rid of it and come back to check on you, okay?”

“Yes, please,” They gasped.

You fought your way back out of the grove into the dead winter forest, back to the hiking trail to find a trash receptacle. It took nearly thirty minutes to find one, and another twenty to return to the grove. By the time you got back, Geras was not there. Worried, you followed the row up to a house.

The house was… old. Very old. So old that you couldn’t even determine what style or era it was from. It was tall and square, made of rough brick and thatched roof. There seemed to be no windows, but the entire front wall was open and had a rolled up flap that closed that side from the elements.

From the open side, you could see people moving around, hurried, almost frenzied, and you called out to them.

“Hey!” You said. “I’m looking for Geras! He… or she.. or they passed out from some garbage that got thrown in here. Are they okay?”

They all stopped and turned to stare at you from the shadow, and it was then you realized that there was no lights or electricity. There wasn’t even a power pole or lines anywhere nearby.

“Are you the one who helped Geras?” One of them asked. They had a feminine sounding voice.

“Yes,” You said. “Are they okay?”

“She’s not well,” The speaker said. “I am her mother, Foteini.” The woman came down and out of the shadows, and you took a step backward.

She was covered from head to toe in fur, except for her face, which was hairless, but possessed no mouth. Her eyes and nose were very large, however, and her silvering hair was long behind her.

“What are you?” You asked, your voice a little shaky.

“The people of the grove,” She said, her voice not coming from any sort of mouth, but rather from all around her. It wasn’t like telepathy; you could actually hear a voice in your ears, but it seemed to emanate from all over her. “Do not be frightened. We are gentle people.”

There were three other people there in that stepped out of the darkened interior, a black haired creature like Foteini and two much smaller ones the same color as the mother, likely children. They clung to the legs of the taller, black furred creature, seemingly frightened of you.

“Will Geras be okay?” You asked haltingly.

“I don’t know,” The mother said. “She inhaled much of the fumes from those poisons.”

“Is there something I can do to help?” You asked.

“You’ve already done her a great service,” Foteini said. “We would not have been able to help her, if we had found her, and if she had laid there longer, she’d likely have died.”

“Why?” You asked. “That stuff stank, sure, but it wasn’t technically poisonous. Not inhaling it, anyway.”

“We live on the aromas of nature,” Foteini explained. “Flowers, trees, fruit. Those sustain us. Pungent, unpleasant smells, like that poison you disposed of, are toxic and potentially fatal to us.”

“Oh,” You said, daunted. “Is there something that could help speed her recovery?”

Foteini thought. “Roses. They are among the most fragrant things that exist in nature, but we haven’t been able to grow them here in many years. Could you find some?”

“Yeah. Yeah! I… I’ll be back!” You said, and dashed back out of the grove before they could stop you.

You got out of the forest, dropped off your painting stuff at home, and went to a plant nursery.

“Do you have any rose plants?” You asked the clerk.

“Well, yes,” The clerk said. “But it’s too late in the year to plant them. If you want to grow from seeds, though, you can plant those now. I can sell you some seeds and give you a guide.”

That’s too long, you thought to yourself. Geras needed the roses now. “You know, I’ll take it, but I’m in a hurry.”

“Uh… alright.”

The clerk packed up the seeds of several types of roses and a guide for each, and as soon as you had them, you sprinted to a flower shop. You purchased a large bouquet of the finest, freshest, most aromatic red roses, and while it took a chunk out of your bank account, you didn’t want to run the risk of buying some that were less than perfect in fear that they wouldn’t work.

It was nearing sundown when you returned to the grove, and Foteini seemed surprised to see you.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d return,” She said. “Humans tend to stay away from this place.”

“I brought the roses,” You said, gasping for breath. “And some seeds to plant.”

“This is… most generous of you,” Foteini said. “Please, come inside. Night is approaching and you don’t want to be in the forest after dark. There are far less benign creatures out there than us.”

You shivered and followed her inside.

Geras was lying on a pallet in a far room, her breathing labored and raspy. Foteini began to lay out the flowers around Geras’s head, arranging the flowers around Geras’s head in a circle.

“Breathe deep,” Foteini said soothingly, rubbing Geras’s chest like a mother would for a sick child.

Geras made an effort to take a deep breath, but it sounded pained. However, after two or three tries, her breathing eased and eventually, after about an hour of tense waiting, she was able to breath without struggle. Foteini relaxed, and so did you.

“You should sleep here tonight,” Foteini said. “And eat as many apples as you want. We owe you a great debt.”

“I’m just glad I could help,” You said.

You fell asleep almost immediately after eating, having been exhausted by all the running. When you awoke, there was a new bushel of apples sitting next to you, and next to that was Geras, watching you sleep.

“Oh,” You said, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m much better now,” She said, smiling with her large green eyes. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course,” You said with a self-conscious laugh. “You gave me a scare.”

“I’m sorry,” She said. “I know humans aren’t used to us.”

“No, I mean almost dying like that,” You corrected her. “I mean, I was a little startled, I’ll admit, but you guys seem nice.”

“You’re nice, too,” She said, continuing to smile.

“Thanks,” You said, starting to blush under the weight of her stare. “I, uh… I should get back, I have to go to work later today.”

“Of course,” Geras said, standing in a fluid movement and holding out a hand to help you to your feet. “Though… I hope… you’ll come back to visit?” She held out one of the roses for you to take.

You smiled at her, your hands still clasped. “I would like that very much.”

To get your own Monster Match, buy me a Kofi!

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[bonickhausen]

an update

hi! i am still alive.

i had to move out to another apartment. i like it here: it is larger and i am free to do whatever the fuck i want. i can talk to my friends over on discord late at night and nobody gives a shit. i can cook my meals at 4am and i dont have to worry about waking someone up. 

i’m living all by myself. due to the pandemic, i’m not seeing or talking to anyone so i just got used to talking to myself. i’ve always had the habit of striking silent conversations with myself and despite the fact that actually talking out loud feels weird at times it helps ease the feeling of loneliness and it helps me focus when i need to. 

i have been feeling a wide variety of emotions lately. in a way, this is the calmest i’ve ever been when it comes to dealing with other people: for as long as i can remember ive felt the need to try and meet new people and have their approval in some shape or form and i dont think i feel this with such intensity anymore. in a sense this is boring; it feels like apathy at times and i feel uncaring which doesnt sound healthy to me. 

i miss so many things. i guess this is part of growing up. it’s weird. the passage of time makes me feel things i can’t properly describe. i guess i feel sadness and i feel hopeful and i miss things yet i cant wait to see what things are going to be like. i dont think i’ve ever feared for my future and i still dont. ignorance might be bliss.

i want to lose things. this is something i have been thinking a lot about lately, i want to lose things. when i get bored of something i just tend to ditch it and start from scratch and i cant tell whether this is disregard or boredom but i sometimes think about moving somewhere else in the near future and starting everything over from scratch, find me a new job in another context and introduce myself with yet another name and leave everything behind. i sometimes want to lose it all. this feeling is not the product of some kind of dissatisfaction but rather of curiosity, a feeling of my-grass-could-be-greener that i just cant seem to shake off. i sometimes feel like i am stagnating and i dont want that. i dont want to stick to anything because the moment that happens is the moment i start to stagnate and this is my one anxiety that i just cannot control for the life of me, my huge fear of stagnation, of halting and catching fire, this weird dread that i have got to do something grand to push away what resembles a feeling of worthlessness

it’s been two months since i started talking to a psychiatrist. she helps me see things clearly as there are times my judgement is impaired by my feelings. i think i am doing a good job at keeping these feelings at bay even though they sometimes leak through. i have for so long bathed in bad habits and toxic behaviours but i am really trying my best to change. 

i have decided against talking to other people about most of my problems as i dont want anyone to have to put up with my shit and quite frankly even i cant really compreheend many of the things that bother me so i’d rather try and get a better grasp of it all first. i dont want to be a nuisance. unless talking to them about an element happens to solve said element, i’m going to keep it to myself. i wish noone harm and i believe it’s better for everyone if i leave the largest chunks to my psychiatrist. i also fear that telling people about my problems will cause them to distance themselves from me so i’d rather talk to someone who is completely unrelated to my personal life: trusting an absolute stranger with my deepest feelings feels surprisingly good

sadly been overworking lately. landed a reeeeeally neat freelance project with a guy i admire and another freelance project that’s been an absolute bitch. these last few days have been exhausting but it’s almost over. at least the money is really good.

i have been thinking quite a lot about giving creative writing another go as there are many things i want to explore but cant because i’m pretty boring with words.

i have many plans but i dont want to tell anyone about them. telling people things leads to frustration and i want to avoid that.

i have quit facebook and twitter. it’s been great for me. i’ve been avoiding the news over the last few months. i just cant deal with what’s happening right now. i just want everyone to be okay and i want to remain okay.

right now i feel okay.

i might be back in a month or six with another update. these kind of posts are quite handy for me as they help me get a better view of my issues and circumstances so i’m probably going to keep writing these every now and then

bye and thanks for putting up with my shit

[slashingdisneypasta]

Feeling kinda dumb asking this tbh. Not sure if you even watched TVD, but in case you did, you know how Bonnie uses Expression Magic which is considered extreamly dark and powerful form of magic (I mean, she literally destroyed hell!) do you mind writing Freddy x victim!reader oneshot where he mets a witch who also practices Expression and is extreamly powerfull? He tries to kill her at first obviously

Omg, this one started out so light hearted but oh my god.

Don't feel dumb!! Its a good ask!! I do watch TVD, and I hope you like this ^^ 

~~~

I wake up the same way I have for the past 3 weeks. With messy hair, slashes through my favourite pyjama shirt and a finger in my hand- well, it isn’t always a finger. Sometimes its an ear, a portion of his ugly sweater, his hat, once even his eyeball. You get the picture though. Unimpressed, I watch the finger turn to gunky, dirty dust. Then promptly get up and tiredly get out the vacuum cleaner to clean up the mess.

Once I’m done, I put the vacuum back in its cupboard down the hall, which at this point I could totally do just from muscle memory and no other senses due to how often this month I’ve ripped something of Freddy’s back out into the real world in my attempt to take him out and kill him off the clean way.

But, I take a deep breath and let it out, exhausted and resigned, as I pull on pants and search through my closet for a shirt to wear out today. I guess I’m going to have to do it the hard way.

Finally, I discard the ruined shirt and wrench on a clean, yellow t-shirt and leave my house.

___TIME SKIP___

“Hey, Bernard,” I beam towards the grassy haired barista. The café’s basically empty, apart from a group of teenagers watching Netflix and Disney plus on their laptops and phone sin the far corner, so I think we’re fine to talk. He looks up from the mug he was drying out, sees my expression and promptly scoffs. Immediately he starts down the bar, past the glass case with all the sweets inside including a delicious jelly slice with lavender for safety that I get when I come here for breakfast, rounds it, and comes all the way to stand very close to me. He holds up his pointer finger between us sternly, almost mad and I focus instead on his hair rather then his face. It really is grassy- not because he’s been playing footy which he likely was before he came to work and not just because its green. Its messy, and multiple shades of different, environmental green. Representing his element.

“Don’t you dare.”

I sigh, and roll my eyes as I sit down in a bar stool, successfully putting space between us as he doesn’t move. “Its kind of a dire situation.”

“A demon?” He doesn’t look at all like it would change his mind on the subject of my using magic if it were a demon. Which it is.

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that draws strength from attention, lets move on.” Again, I roll my eyes. Not at Bernard though, this time its Freddy. Yes, he totally is that kind of demon. Not even just because he needs people to believe he exists to work. He’s just an attention whore.

Bernard crosses his arms and rolls his shoulders back, more than expressing his parents’ shared fire element. And, also, his cranky streak. “You will not use magic.”

“I’ve tried doing it the easy way. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about your neighbours, and the rest of the known universe if you fuck up. Actually, scratch that. Unknown universe, too.”

“I’m not asking you for permission anyway. Just- come on, gimmie the book.” I hold out my hand, looking around for where he could possibly be hiding it. Cupboards? Behind the cupboards? Has he digitised it? He just continues to glower, and its so forceful that I lower my hand and pout. He’s always been the scary cousin in our family.

“Oh, you so are asking me for permission. You don’t know where the book is!” He sneers, and I deadpan deeply at his immaturity.

“Look, Ber, we’re grown adults. Grown! Ass! Adults! I can make my own decisions, now- where is the book?”

“No!”

“Gimmie!”

“I’m older than you, and I say no!”

“Berrrrrrrr- Oh hi Boyd.” I pause in glaring at my Bernard to look at his brother, Boyd walk by from the upstairs apartment, clipping the vizor attachment to his glasses as he’s going out. He looks boredly at me smiling at him and keeps going to the door with an old-fashioned bell fixed to the top.

“You’re here for the grimoire?” He asks, opening the door and turning over his shoulder, and I nod sweetly- he’s sure to be more helpful! “Yeah, Bernard lost it. Hid it so well even he cant find it anymore. Now, I have a date.” He leaves the, now very tense and cold café with a curt, “Later.”

Slowly… I turn to Bernard. He is now avoiding eyecontact. He misplaced… our families… century old… grimoire??! “Find. It.”

Having a change of heart, he heads behind the counter again with a lowered head. “Oof, I’m on it.”

It must take hours, before I give up looking alongside him and sit down to take a rest. The teenagers have gone by now, and Bernard turned the ��Open’ sign on the front window around to say ‘Closed’. I don’t know how it happened, but at some point, I rest my head on the bench and the exhaustion from not getting full rest for weeks catches up to me, and I fall asleep.

“Back so soon?”

I jump. “Gah!” Turning around to where the voice came from and I see Freddy- clearly, not in a creative mood because otherwise he wouldn’t have appeared so quick. “Why are you here?!”

“This is my domain, sweetheart.” Freddy explains, something I already knew and he knows I already know and I groan.

“It’s the middle of the day! Can’t I have this one moment to sleep in peace??” A wide smile spreads across his face, and I slouch over. Course not. Oh god, I am so tired. Another yell escapes me though, exhaustion making me incredibly jumpy, when suddenly he appears beside me. Physical form and everything, I can feel the fuzz of his sweater on my arm. “Don’t touch me.” I flash him a glare, not daring him. Definitely not daring him- he’ll take it. Just telling him to back the fuck off because I’m tired not only from his unfaltering ability to keep me busy and working, even when I’m asleep, and also now because my dear older, moronic cousin has lost our grimoire which was entrusted to him, which I need to get rid of Freddy, in order to sleep and actually feel rested!

Oh, my goodddddd, I would do almost anything right now to dream about stupid normal stuff like flying, or running from an encroaching car, or falling. Even falling, which wakes you up. At least I can fall right back to sleep.

“Okay, now, see, if you tell me that, I’ll just wanna do the opposite! ~” The clawed glove nears my face and my right eye twitches, but I stand still there with my arms crossed and glare at it. The rusty, nearly black metal nearing my eyes, reflecting the sharp, gross grin on Freddy’s burnt face.

“So, its opposite day then?” I ask, humouring him because what else are you going to do? When he gets bored, he’s even more dangerous.

“Yep!” Visibly, the stripe sin his sweater switch places so its green and red, and not red and green. He thinks he’s funny.

And, clearly I’m exhausted otherwise I never would’ve fallen for that. “Then please touch me Fredrick.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, raucous laughter escapes him, and he holds his belly as he doubles over and laughs. I groan and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. I need to wake up. “Out of all the obnoxious murderers out there… “I got the worst of the lot.

“Yep, you got me. Now, let’s stop fucking around shall we? Let’s get to the good stuff!”

“Oh no.” I half groan, half whine in dread and fear. Suddenly, the fact that I fell asleep feels like stupidest move ever- at any time, he might kill me. Its just blind luck that he hasn’t felt like ending the game so far. But he could at any time, including this time.

Freddy disappears again, and I whip around to look for him. My heart starts to beat thunderously in my chest because nothing good has ever occurred when Freddy disappears. I’ve been shot, I’ve been crushed under a stone slab, I’ve been choked with 80’s twisted telephone phone cables- I’ve even been kissed. And every time, I get closer to dying. I lose oxygen, I lose blood, I lose morale. Every time I get hurt, Freddy takes me closer to death then before and I think I’m actually gone this time. He’s bored, I’m not enough anymore, the torture is over.

Which is both a relief and even more horrifying then anything else. Tears cluster in my eyes as time goes by and nothing happens. I just see the boiler room around me, everything tinted red and everything damp and shiny with grease and rust. I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, smoke starts to fill the room. Until I can’t see anything at all except the white in front of me and my hand if I would raise it, but I don’t. I just stay very still, afraid of what’s about to happen. “Fr-Freddy?” I call, weak and disappointing myself. I’m a fucking witch… but that doesn’t really mean much in this world. Not without the spell that I need from the grimoire that’s nowhere to be found. I’m a witch, and I’ve raised to think that means something, means I’m a force to reckoned with, but here I am being reckoned with and I’m useless.

The ground underneath me starts to vibrate, and the smoke slowly starts to clear.

I squint, but I can’t see much through the remaining smoke and the tears shielding my eyes except a bright light.

The vibrating gets worse, and I look down and notice that the smoke has cleared enough at the point to see what beneath my feet, and the realisation of what’s there makes fear swarm throughout every crevice of my being. Mind, body and soul.

Train tracks.

My head snaps up again to see the light, a train, barrelling closer and closer to me. It’s so loud now that I’ve realised, I’m about get his by a fucking steam train, that my ears pop and protest to the pain of it all. The train gets closer and there’s Freddy. The fucker. Wearing a conductor’s uniform and hanging out the side of the driver’s compartment. He grins and waives.

I try to use rational sense and move out of the way, but rope shoots out of the earth between the tracks and twists tightly over my shoes. I try to wrench my feet out of my shoes, panicking now as the train tracks are practically jumping, but the ripe starts to climb… higher and higher up and around my legs and my hip and my arms, until I can’t move at all. It’s so tight I can’t barely even breath- not that I’ll need to for much longer.

I brace myself, and squeeze my eyes shut against the now blinding, all-encompassing brightness of the trains light. And then the train hits-

“FOUND IT!”

I’m wrenched suddenly, and violently from my sleep on the counter and straighten up so vigorously that I nearly slip right off the bar stool. There’s drool on the bench from my sleep, my cheek feels stiff from resting on it for a while, and whip around to look at Bernard who’s standing beside me now with the leather bound, yellow paged book that he’s found. I snatch it from his fingers, dropping it on the bench and start frantically looking through it, eyes still filled with tears and now they start falling. I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the heavy sob that racks my back and shoulders and mouth from the shock and horror of what just nearly happened. I can still see fuzzy blue dots in my vision from the light, and my nose tingles because the train just touched. It smelled like smoke and coal and that’s still in my nose. Theirs white scrapes on my wrists from the rough rope.

“Y/N,” Bernard touches my arm and I don’t push him off, but I don’t respond, either. I barely notice him, too preoccupied with looking for the right spell. I need this to be over, that can’t happen to me again! I’m not brave enough for it. Another terrible sob forces its way from my chest and I feel half like curling into my cousins chest and crying my heart out and half like killing that bastard Freddy. Wrenching his entire nasty existence from unwritten history and tearing it so it will never be salvaged again.

The second half wins, as I go back through the book backwards, and this time find the spell. “Ow-Okay.”

“Y/N, take a moment- “

“No,” I snap. I nearly got h i t, by a t r a i n. A monstrous thing the same colour as Freddy’s blades. Bernard can’t understand that, but I sure as fuck can. Stammering, but sure, I start to recite the incantation under my breath. Slowly it gets louder, as words start to become harder to say and I need concentrate more. Latin mixes together into one big word, and its har don the best of days but when there’s expression magic involved, it takes an army. More.

And I am that, right now.

Bernard looks around as wind, not coming from an open door or window, starts picking up in this room and rushes to shut the curtains and block the rest of the world from seeing in. Napkins go flying, then the chairs topple over, and then finally the wind is so strong that coffee maker rips from the wall and smashes into the glass sweets case.

I don’t see it, because I’m still following the words in the book, but I hear it. But only just, over the terrible wind screaming through my ears. Finally, the spell reaches its peak and the air in front of Bernard and me, who has gotten back to where I am, opens up. Like someone took a knife and tore literally through the fabric of space and time and magic, revealing the familiar boiler room.

The words start to speak on their own. Whispering in the wind and my lips don’t even have to move, so I let Bernard take the book. Its all so chaotic, I don’t know how I know what to do. But I reach forward and just, lightly touch the hole and its like the magic knows exactly what I want.

Dirty dust, like what Freddy turns into when you bring out of a piece of him from the dream world that I’ve been vacuuming for the past weeks appears, connects together into the shape of a man and then twists together slowly, disturbingly like vines until it isn’t dust and vines anymore. Its burnt flesh and knitted, red and green cotton.

And he looks mad. “You bitch.” Is all he manages to say, but it’s got so much hatred and fury in it that I nearly get scared. I feel it creeped into my bones and organ in my chest.

But then I remember. This is my world.

And I don’t want him in it. “Get out.” I spit, and just like the world seems to crash. Eliminating an existence -anything. Much less a person, - is a lot of work and a big deal. It shouldn’t be possible at all, and I believe that. But I believe it like some who believe murder shouldn’t be possible.

But it is and sometimes it happens, in dire situations.

It feels like I’m being torn on the inside, and scraped clean on the outside- punishment, for doing such a thing. Something to make the world balanced for this.

And Freddy warps like The Scream or a computer glitch. Half of him gong up and the other half going down. Its horrifying sight and I’m in so much pain, but I make my eyes stay open.

And then everything goes black.

___TIME SKIP: A Week___

The whole week has gone by like dream. Not a Freddy dream. Not even a happy dream. Just, like its unreal. I don’t feel much, except a slow, soft blankness like when you’re totally out of it in class after a really, really bad day.

Its not particularly a bad feeling, not compared to the horrors I endured before. Its just like I need to rest, after I used so much power, and feeling so much in general.

Oh, and I have. I’ve been sleeping all the time. Day and night. It’s been uninterrupted and nearly… empty, feeling. Bizarly, I’m well aware now when I’m asleep that I’m dreaming. I’m lucid. Like when Freddy would be there, but without him. Its not exactly restful, but still. It’s better than the nightmares.

Right now, I’m going to sleep. Feeling tiredness expand and unconsciousness take over.

Immediately, I nearly jolt right awake again from fear. Nearly. But his hand grips onto my arm before I can.

Freddy’s right in front of me, smiling sharp like a much madder, pissed off the Cheshire cat. “Heya again sweetheart.” His voice sounds too real. His touch feels to real. This cant be- “It took a fucking lot. Pulled a few strings, don’t know how. Don’t ask. But I’m back. Don’t worry though, I’m not about to kill you. That was a real neat trick you pulled… “I jump, and whimper when the a blade on his glove touches my cheek, and he leans much closer.

“So, we have a lot to talk about.”

You didn’t think you could rid of this Slasher, did you?

[aivaehdaevis]

The More Things Change: Ch 2

The More Things Change

by Aivaeh

Disclaimer: Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it. Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert. Pairing(s): OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus Rating: M Warning(s): Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death. Master List External Links: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Chapter Two

The rest of the car ride was filled with innocuous chatter on Bonnie's end. She kept everything light, as if she feared the talk of magic and witches had summoned the crow. Most of it was gossip based. Since I knew of none of these people, I kept my responses monosyllabic when I wasn't nodding.

It wasn't far to the school from what I'd mentally dubbed as 'downtown' Mystic Falls. Less than five minutes, max. Bonnie's Prius joined a mix of cars that looked older to my eyes, but the show had started years ago. For the teens themselves, they had to be nice. I knew there was supposed to be a poorer side of town, but I wasn't seeing much evidence of it in the Mystic Falls High School parking lot.

I grabbed my bag from the backseat and met Bonnie's smile with a less than enthused one of my own. Her brows lifted. "First day of junior year."

"Yeah."

She pocketed her keys before pushing her door open. "Wonder how many committees Caroline's already signed up for."

Bonnie's droll delivery startled a laugh from me as I followed her out. Well. A soft chuckle, really. But it was genuine. "All of them?"

"Please. She's probably started a few new ones." Bonnie shook her head as she paused at the trunk and pushed it open. Her own bag appeared in her hand a moment later. She closed the trunk before slinging it over her shoulder. "And you know she's going to rope us into each and every one."

"Yep." I fell into step beside her as she continued on the topic of Caroline and her obsession with planning committees. A lot of 'remember whens' occupied her side of the conversation as we matriculated with the growing tide of students. I again smiled and nodded, but kept my sights sweeping out across the Mystic Falls High School grounds.

I noticed a lot of curious glances tossed our way, along with a few smiles and the occasional wave that Bonnie—and belatedly me—returned.

Right. Elena had been that girl before her parent's were killed and she descended into vampire drama. My hand tightened on my bag's strap. I was not that girl. I was a girl. I blended. The prototypical wallflower. Which I liked.

Before I knew it, my eyes were sketching the seams between the sidewalk, Elena's long hair sliding past my shoulders and hiding my—her—face. I tried to remind myself to keep my head up. That would be more in character. But whenever I'd catch another person looking, and then turn to talk—ugh. Sidewalk it was.

Bonnie didn't seem to notice. Or, more like, care. She carried on the conversation as if she kept up one-sided chats with her quiet friend all the time. It was probably a more recent development, though. What had Elena been writing about at the start of the series? Convincing everyone she was fine? Which meant she hadn't been doing a good job of it prior to the start of the series.

I wondered how often Bonnie had to shoulder the bulk of their friendship since Elena's accident. Hell, going by how often she'd done it on the show, way too much.

The impromptu consideration of Bonnie and Elena's friendship, and how one-sided it had seemed, occupied me all the way into the main building. It wasn't until my feet struck tile instead of concrete, and I caught a heavy glass and metal door before it could hit my face, that I zoned back into my surroundings.

From the loud cacophony of teenage voices, the banging of lockers, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum—it felt like being thrust back in time. I kept close to Bonnie as the river of students parted around her. And me, I suppose. "Where—"

"Gym." Her brows canted. "For our schedules?"

"Oh." I fixed my sights ahead. "Right. Like last year."

"Mhm. So, Ashley was driving Caroline insane. Like, she just could not get the landing. Care being Care starts to think that, maybe, she's doing it on purpose. To sabotage her chance at getting captain, you know? Which is crazy talk. Which I told her."

The trials and travails of Caroline and Bonnie at Cheerleading camp continued all the way down an absurdly long hall. We weren't the only ones. Seemed like the whole school was headed in the same direction.

Eventually we all flowed into what could only have been the prototypical high school gymnasium. Big open room with a tall ceiling and a basketball court painted onto the floor. The bleachers were folded up, pressed against the wall into a giant wooden jigsaw puzzle. Several tables had been set up under one of the basketball hoops, each seating a couple of staff members. Long paper signs were taped behind them, each one proclaiming a year and a part of the alphabet. Lines of students were stretched out in front of them.

I looked for year eleven and almost hunted for S before remembering it was supposed to be G. Unfortunately, this was where Bonnie and I would have to part. The G's were mixed in with the F's.

"Meet you at the doors?" Bonnie offered as we both wandered towards our respective tables.

"Okay." She could probably hear the relief in my voice.

We parted at the lines and I stepped up behind a tall red headed boy dressed in a polo shirt and khakis.

I fiddled with my bag strap, waiting for the line to move, when there was a slight commotion further up the line. A blonde head of hair appeared around the side, and a familiar face from my television screen lit up. "Elena! Hey!"

Holy shit. Caroline.

I couldn't help but smile back, the blonde's enthusiastic grin was so infectious. "Hi," I called, though not very loud and immediately glancing to the side to see if anyone noticed.

Of course they had. Caroline wasn't head of the cheerleading squad for nothing.

A flick of her head sent her immaculate blonde curls over a shoulder before she waved me towards her. "What are you doing?" she laughed. "Come here!"

Another glance around me revealed considerably colder looks than before. I swallowed before aiming a far thinner, close-lipped smile back. "Don't want to cut in line."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "No one cares." She aimed the most potent Bitch Look I'd ever seen at the girl behind her. "Do you care if my friend stands next to me?"

The girl, skinny and pale with a bad case of acne—which gave me an instant connection of deep empathy with her—startled. She quickly shook her head. "No."

"See?" Caroline returned, dismissing her existence. She motioned for me to join her again. "Get over here, Elena!" That tone would brook no argument.

I glanced around me, uncertain, before sidling out of place and nervously moving up. I was careful not to look at the faces of the students I passed.

Caroline pulled me into a hug the moment I was within arm's reach. "Oh my god!" she squealed. "I can't believe it. Feels like forever!" She pushed me back before I could do anything but be shifted about like a rag doll. "How are you doing? You okay?"

There was something kind of… performative about the sympathy. Then I remembered that season one Caroline was still a slave to her insecurities. The most major of which being Elena Gilbert. Great. "I'm fine."

She gave me a pursed lip look of disbelief. "Really?"

I drew in a breath and adjusted the strap of my bag, which was now threatening to fall down my arm from all the jostling. "Yep."

She gifted me another big, bright, beauty queen smile. "Great!" Her voice went slightly lower—though that wasn't saying much. "Have you seen Matt yet?"

"No."

"Wait till you do. He's so obviously pining."

Okay. Not sure what to say to that, I nodded.

"I hear he's been like that all summer."

More gossip. Great. "Oh."

"Yep." Caroline seemed disappointed I wasn't more into this tidbit of information. But, never one to admit defeat, she rebounded with another smile. It looked forced. "We missed you at cheer camp."

"Bonnie was just telling me about it."

Caroline's smile wavered. "She was?" She blinked. "What about it?"

Crap. I searched through the dazed haze that covered my mind throughout the fog of madness that had been the entirety of my day so far. "Ashley? Sabotaging you?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed to slits, her arms crossed, and she leaned into her hip. "Either that, or she's completely incompetent. I have no idea how she got on the squad in the first place." She glanced off to the side in thought. "Maybe it was a pity thing."

"Pity thing?"

"Yeah. Because of the divorce." Her voice screamed, 'duh.' She scoffed. "As if that's so special. My mom and dad divorced. You don't see me fumbling every landing." A frightening sort of intensity lit up her face. "I actually practice so I don't look like an idiot."

"Practice is good," seemed like something neutral to respond with.

"Which is why I'm concerned about you, Elena," Caroline's transformation from wrathful bitch to anxious friend happened so quick, I got whiplash. "You missed so much." She gave another doleful put. "I'm worried."

Yeah. She ought to be. Running was one thing, and I enjoyed cardio. Jumping and spinning and being all 'Rah Rah!' though? Nope. Not happening. But didn't Elena quit cheerleading? In fact, wasn't this conversation supposed to happen with Damon around? And didn't Elena meet Caroline back at school for the first time at the lockers?

While the questions settled uncomfortably in the back of my mind, the student in front of Caroline finished. "We'll talk more later," Caroline promised. At my nod, she gave a final smile and turned around, striding up to the table with more confidence then I think I've ever experienced in the entirety of my life.

I mulled over the differences between what I remembered and what had just happened until Caroline finished receiving her schedule. She gave a rippling finger wave to me as she strode off to the doors. I smiled back. Already my cheeks were starting to smart from all the faux grins I was pulling this morning.

Stepping up to the table, I discovered all I had to do was give Elena's name and they were rifling through a stack of papers. I had my hands on her class list and a padlock for a locker before I could give much thought to the change I'd already wrought. So I'd run into Caroline early and had a minor conversation about cheerleading? What did it matter?

I returned to the doors and leaned against the wall as I waited for Bonnie to get her schedule. By the time she joined me, another ten minutes had gone by. Apparently our first period class wasn't going to do much in the way of work. Which was good, since it was Trig.

Nothing like math first thing in the morning.

On the positive side of things, Bonnie was in the same class. As we compared schedules, we walked side by side through the halls and searched for our lockers. Bonnie spotted hers first and dropped off her bag. Mine was next, not that far from Bonnie's, but I chose to keep my bag with me. Call me weird, but I liked having something capable of carrying all my crap around with me.

Task complete, we were on our way to our first class when Bonnie grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop beside her. "Hold up. Who's this?"

Bonnie stared down the hall through a set of open doors into what looked like some administrative room. I doubted she meant the woman seated behind the desk, flipping through a folder of papers. More like the tall guy in the leather jacket standing in front of it. Broad shouldered. Wide stance. Brown hair. Sunglasses…

I squeezed the strap at my shoulder, hard enough that the stiff leather bent with a creak. "No idea," I lied.

"Too bad." Bonnie's ran an appraising eye from top to bottom. "He's hot."

And with his enhanced senses, he'd heard that. Uncomfortable, I watched as Stefan took off his sunglasses. The shades dangled from his fingers as he stared down into the administrator's eyes. Still as stone, she stared back several seconds before starting to move again.

Compulsion. He'd compelled her. Mind control was an actual thing that happens here. That man was an actual vampire. And not just any vampire, but a Ripper. The hair on my arms rose.

Oblivious, Bonnie added, "I'm sensing Seattle, and he plays the guitar."

She mustn't be witchy enough yet to pick up on his—aura, I suppose. If I remembered right, she'd have to touch Stefan before she felt anything off. "Not really into the grunge thing, myself," I muttered. And while vampires were fun to read and watch on the screen, standing a few feet away from one... Well. Ironically, my heart was starting to pound.

Bonnie grinned. "You're doubting me."

"Never." I mustered a wan smile.

"Jeremy, good batch, man."

The off-hand remark from a voice behind us that I didn't recognize, shouting a line that I sort of did, drew my attention. Searching over my shoulder, I found Jeremy. Apparently, he hadn't lied about the ride. He grinned somewhere into the crowd before ducking into the boy's bathroom. Frowning, I turned back around.

Right. Elena had followed her brother into the bathroom and chastised him. Tried to talk sense into him. It didn't work, because of course it wouldn't. But it was as she'd left the bathroom that she'd run straight into Stefan for the first time. Spoke to him.

Alone.

Yeah. No. That wasn't going to happen.

Bonnie was still studying Stefan's back. "Please be hot."

I shifted my bag further up my shoulder before glancing around at the other students still walking the hall. "Shouldn't we get to class?"

"In a sec."

Standing in front of a random doorway, staring at Stefan, waiting for him to turn around? Not weird at all. But I could hardly leave Bonnie. Not to mention I didn't know the way. So there I stood, awkward as hell, as the rest of the students streamed around us like we were rocks slicing apart the currents of some rushing river. "Isn't this kind of creepy?"

"Shh."

I pressed my lips together with a single, short nod. Right then. Creeping on the new guy it was.

Fortunately, it wasn't too much longer before he finished and turned around. He had his head tilted down, hooking his sunglasses to his collar. Of course, Bonnie had already started drawing in a startled breath. Even though I knew what he'd look like, that he was basically a supernatural predator, I was tempted to join her. He raised his head, putting the chiseled splendor of his face on display for all to see. Stefan Salvatore was a sigh-worthy sight to behold in person. Especially when those brooding eyes landed on me, widening slightly as his thick but perfectly groomed brows lifted.

His stare stayed pointed at me—or Elena—as he strode by. Going so far as to turn his head slightly as he passed us to keep me in his sights. I caught a hint of expensive cologne as Stefan came near enough that our sleeves almost brushed. The surreality of the moment almost sent me floating off into some mini version of astral projection. But all my nerves had woke up at his passing, anchoring me to my borrowed body as it tingled all the way to my toes. I did manage not to spin completely around, like Bonnie did, as he moved further down the hall. It was a near thing.

"Oh. My. God." Bonnie rounded back. "Worth it."

I swallowed. Why couldn't he look like a monster? "Class?"

She snapped her sights to me and stared as if I were crazy. "Your dedication to academics over ridiculously cute boys is inspiring, Elena." She shook her head. "But also? Kind of sad."

"Yeah." I shrugged, adjusting my bag's strap again. "So?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes but smiled. "If we must." Her arm threaded through mine and she tugged me back into the flow of students. "Let's go."

My mind stayed stuck on Stefan Salvatore as I followed Bonnie to the classroom, and well into the start. So did Bonnie's, if her sighs and constant wondering about the 'new hottie' was anything to go by. Unlike Bonnie, I wasn't just musing over his insanely good looks. Not entirely. I was only human, and holy shit Stefan was a beautiful monster. But he was a monster. He wasn't an early Damon, Katherine, or Klaus, but he wasn't innocent, either. There was as wall with a list of names in Chicago. Not to mention the asshole he became after Klaus got his claws into his head.

And I was stuck in the body of the girl who looked exactly like the woman who'd turned him. Worse, the Amara to his Silas. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I tried to put my mind off it. I felt pretty de-whammied by the time our introduction to Trig was over.

So of course, there he was in my next class. English.

I scurried in because it'd taken forever for me to find without Bonnie backup. He was already seated near the back—next to a very pleased Caroline. He watched me hurry towards the only vacant seat left at the very front. To be fair, everyone watched me rush in and interrupt the teacher.

I swallowed as I sat down, kept my eyes staring straight ahead at the chalkboard.

I could hear him, though. Well, I heard Caroline mostly. Hard not to. Occasionally there would be that mellow voice answering. God, how did a person sound gorgeous? It wasn't fair. Serial killer wall. Eater of bunnies. Ripper of people.

Of course, reminding myself of all his gruesome deeds wasn't exactly helping me to keep calm, either. I was a mess however I chose to look at it. Either I was another girl drooling over his stupid perfectness, or I was terrified he was going to snap and eat the whole class—though that last was foolish of me. I knew he wasn't that bad. At least, he wasn't on the show. He wouldn't be now. 'Course not.

Maybe if there had been anything interesting going on in the class I would've had an easier time keeping my mind off the vampire seated in the back. But all that happened was a lecture on the syllabus and class expectations and blah blah. The most exciting thing was when the books were passed out. I'd always enjoyed any subject having to do with reading, in high school or college. But the problem with high school lit classes is the list doesn't change. A glance and I knew I'd be re-reading a lot of 'classics,' only a few of which I liked.

Great. Stuck in this world, and with a boring stack of books to boot.

I raced out of class as soon as it was over, letting Caroline manipulate all of Stefan's attention. Also, I didn't want a repeat of being the last one in again. This time I stopped someone in the hall and asked where my next class was. After dropping my books off at my locker, which was on the way, I managed to make it to Biology with minutes to spare.

Unfortunately it was a class I shared with Tyler Lockwood.

He was never a favorite of mine on the show. From my first impression in real life, he was even more of a jerk. The entire time he talked and laughed, even blew spitballs at one of his teammates. The poor teacher didn't do anything but smile and nervously laugh along. Being a star football player and the son of the Mayor, I guess no one besides vampire hunter Ric Saltzman was interested in disciplining the kid.

I was thoroughly annoyed by the end of the class and could tell it was going to be a regular occurrence if this weird—situation—didn't end anytime soon. On the plus side, I wasn't alternatively daydreaming and fretting over Stefan Salvatore while I was fuming about Tyler Lockwood.

It wasn't until fourth period that I met up with Bonnie again in History.

I was so relieved to be sitting beside her, listening to how her classes had gone so far, that I didn't pay much attention as the other kids trickled in and sat down.

Not even when a somewhat familiar voice said, "Hey, Elena."

Bonnie's eyes widened, chin jerking towards the space behind me. Blinking, I remembered Elena was now me and swung about. Matt Donavan hovered near my desk, a strained smile on his face. "Matt. Hi."

"Been a while." He spun a pencil around his fingers. "How was your summer?"

Seeing as he thought he was talking to Elena, I had no idea. Bad, if I had to guess. Given her parents had just died. Still, I summoned another smile. It was getting easier. Ironically, it seemed I was as stuck playing the 'I'm just fine and dandy,' game as she'd been on the show. "Fine. Yours?"

"Alright." He shrugged and glanced down before lifting his sights back up to me. He obviously had something on his mind. I waited. "You still on for the Grill tonight?" When my brows scrunched together, he was quick to add, "Y'know. Everyone's usual meetup after the first day back."

"Yeah. 'Course. Wouldn't want to mess with tradition." That'd draw attention. Something I was trying very hard not to do.

His smile turned more genuine. "Cool." He cleared his throat and nodded. I nodded back, smile growing strained as I held it for a longer beat than the usual. He seemed to decide to just leave then, moving back to sit behind Bonnie. The two shared their own hellos.

Drama. I blew out a breath, slipping further down the hard back of my chair, wondering if the day could possibly get more awkward. The universe chose to answer by having Stefan Salvatore stride into the class at that moment. Naturally, like the earth pulled by the inevitable gravitation of the freaking sun, his gaze flew right to me.

I straightened back up, trying to smooth away any traces of annoyance. Just like the hallway, his stare stayed rooted to mine. I had no idea how he managed to find an empty desk, given he kept staring at me rather than looking for a place to sit. Maybe some sort of vampire sense, like listening for heartbeats or pulsating necks.

I hardly had room to judge. Even after the class started, I watched him too. I did try to keep it to don't-mind-me-just-bored-and-gazing-around-the-room peeks. Hard to do, given his gaze was constantly directed my way. But I couldn't help but look for some sign of—inhumanness. Apart from being a shade or two paler from the rest of the class, nothing stood out.

No, that wasn't true. He stood out, alright. But as far as creepy vibes? Nothing. If one could manage the herculean task of setting aside his amazing looks, he seemed normal. Apart from constantly staring at me, anyway. That was definitely off. Or, rather, the real me. I suppose someone as gorgeous as Elena wouldn't be surprised by the attention. Not that I'd never been on the receiving end myself, but not by anyone who looked like a freaking model.

Just to hammer in the point of how obvious he was being, my phone vibrated. Checking that the teacher wasn't watching, I flipped the older style case open to find a text message from Bonnie.

HAWT-E STARING U

Yeah, thanks. I'd have to be blind not to notice. Or focused on the lesson. Which, for once in an academic setting, I wasn't. Right now, I couldn't give a damn about history. Another first.

Thankfully, the class was the same welcome back here's your syllabus do your homework etcetera that the rest had been. Bonnie caught up to me after the bell signaled the end of our torture. She shared a look of girlish conspiracy as we walked out ahead of Stefan. "The whole time," she said quietly.

"Noticed."

Bonnie grinned. "Lucky."

The insane urge to burst into tearful laughter swept through me. I held it back with a non-committal hum. "Lunch?"

"Lunch."

The rest of the day was Stefan free. I don't know where he went to eat. The woods that seemed to creep around every few blocks in this town? Caroline joined Bonnie and I at the table. A few other girls, Madison and Sarah, along with a guy named Aaron, sat with us too. Which surprised me. But when I thought about it, it made sense. Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline could hardly have only each other as friends. They were just the closest and what the show must've chosen to focus on.

I couldn't get much of an impression of the other three. I gathered the girls were cheerleaders and Aaron was on the team with the other guys. I did pick up that he and Madison were a thing, which explained why he was sitting with us rather than over with Tyler's wolf pack.

Either way, I was able to sit back and let the rest of the table control the conversation. They seemed fine letting me stay quiet, joking back and forth and listening to Caroline's plans for the upcoming festival. Which I was roped into—flyer duty. I didn't fight. Some fates are simply inevitable.

The rest of my classes were a rotation of the various other characters, but no Stefan. By the time the end of the school day had crept around, I was left loading my books into my bag, a light load of assigned reading to do for tomorrow but not a lot else.

Bonnie was back, leaning up against the neighboring locker. "Sorry I can't give you a ride to the cemetery."

I paused. What? Why the hell would I—

Oh, right. Grieving girl. "It's fine." Well, hell. No way was I going to the cemetery. I could find my way back to Elena's house. Sure.

I struggled to remember where all the turns Bonnie had taken were. Main street, as I'd come to think of it as, would be easy enough to get to. I could find my way from there. Probably.

I hoped I didn't look as freaked out as I felt as I smiled at Bonnie. This must've been one of those things the two girls had arranged before. "Thanks for taking me this morning."

Bonnie gave me a look that said, 'don't even,' "'Course." She gave me a one-armed hug before straightening back up. "Say hi to your mom and dad for me."

"I will." Nope. Not going to happen because you couldn't pay me to go to a cemetery with vampires lurking around every corner. Mostly because that's where Elena first 'encounters' Damon. And runs into Stefan. While bleeding.

Yeah. No. Nope.

Bonnie and I separated with waves and promises to meet up later tonight at the Grill. I was curious where she was off to but didn't know a way to ask without making it clear I didn't already know. I had a feeling it was one of those things Elena shouldn't need to ask.

Instead, I hitched my bag up and set off for the 'main street' of Mystic Falls. If I could get to the corner where Damon had scared the crap out of us, I figured I could find my way back. After all, I knew where he and Stefan were going to be. Exactly where I wasn't.

No freaky fog or bloody knees for this girl!

Fortunately, it was a nice day out, and Mystic Falls was a beautiful town—when it wasn't being overrun with supernatural creatures. There was a ton of greenery around, even in the paved business district. Granted, it was mostly maintained greenery, but it was still lovely. Especially with the woods never further than a stone's throw away.

I found the main road easily enough. Learned it was Washington Street. Following it, I found it led right to City Hall and the infamous clock tower. The park that had been featured on quite a few early episodes was only a few blocks down. And then, there was the Grill. Its green banner flapped in the afternoon breeze. I stood for a few moments to just—soak in the wonder. I'd actually be visiting later tonight.

Of course, since I wasn't going to the cemetery, that meant I wouldn't lose Elena's journal. Stefan wouldn't have a reason to stop by. Which means he wouldn't know about the gathering and have no reason to go. That was good.

It was.

Frustrated that I didn't feel like it was entirely good, I huffed at myself and sped up, no longer so enamored with the kitschy little town. But the longer I walked, the more I wondered if I'd missed the turn Bonnie had taken.

By the time the shops were behind me with houses sprouting up to either side of the street and the ever-present woods on the horizon, I wondered if I should just go back. Visit one of the stores and ask for directions. Wasn't everybody supposed to know everybody in a town like this? 'Course, if anyone should know the way to the Gilbert's house, it would probably be someone who'd lived there her whole life. Be odd to ask. Wasn't sure if I wanted rumors of Elena spacing out or acting weird getting around.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket. A vague notion that I might find someone to give me a ride. With the occasional glance up to make sure I didn't stray off the sidewalk, I navigated my way to the contact list. Most of the names were unfamiliar. Bonnie's was the first I recognized, but obviously couldn't call. I had nearly made it through the 'E's, wondering how on earth this girl had so many numbers—just my luck to Quantum Leap into an extroverted popular cheerleader—when a, "CAW!" startled me.

I spun around, sights sweeping around the street. Perched on a nearby streetlamp was the crow from this morning. Or so I assumed. I suppose it could've been an entirely different crow but—c'mon. What were the chances? It cocked its head at me, beady eye gleaming, before it cawed again.

My heart sped up, gut clenching in dismay. Damon. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be waiting at the cemetery! I know I remembered that part of the pilot. I looked around, wondering if I'd wandered near the graveyard by accident, but there wasn't a headstone anywhere nearby. Another insistent, "CAW!" demanded my attention. Giving in, I found the damn bird watching me.

Damon—if it was Damon, and I had no reason to believe it wasn't—had to be stalking me. Elena. Whoever.

And Stefan was probably lingering around the cemetery, right where he was supposed to be.

I swallowed. Like Stefan, Damon was the real-world equivalent of a serial killer. Unlike Stefan, at the start of the series, he didn't give a damn if Elena lived or died. Nor did he share Stefan's diet that only threatened small woodland creatures. Damon reveled in his violent nature, gave in to his murderous whims. A temperamental thrill seeker who had no fear of getting caught.

I turned, noticed how thin the traffic was. I'd managed to get far enough from the business district that I'd past the last of the shops a block back. Another, "CAW!" made me jump. I drew in a breath, lips falling into a frown, before I doubled back for the shopping center behind me.

He wouldn't attack me in broad daylight, in front of a store full of people. Right?

I hurried down the sidewalk, the crow's relentless caws chasing me the whole way. It felt as if I could feel someone's stare crawling over my skin. My heart rate skyrocketed and my blood pounded in my ears. It had to make for a siren song to the vampire watching me.

A loud flutter of wings beside me had me looking down towards a bench anchored to the sidewalk. The crow had perched on an armrest and cawed up at me. I turned away, fixing my gaze back to the approaching stores.

I sped up to a near sprint and rushed into the first shop I saw.

Once I was safely past the door, I spun to peer back through it's glass display. Heart still hammering, I pressed my hand to my chest, willing it to slow down as I searched for the bird stalking me. And fuck my life for making that a thing I had to worry about now. Finding nothing outside, I gulped down a breath and stepped back around.

Hands grabbed my arms. I gasped as I found myself staring up into pale blue eyes, freezing me in place. The corners of those eyes crinkled as Damon Salvatore grinned down at me. "Whoa." He let go, holding his hands up with palms out as if to prove he was harmless. I knew better and stepped back.

How? I'd just been at the door! I'd been staring through its damn window!

I risked taking my eyes off his long enough for my gaze to dart around the rest of the store. Antiques. Lots of places to hide but... No, there. Another door at the back of the shop, drifting shut.

It had to be over a hundred feet away!

I refused to believe that it was possible anyone could move so fast. Weirdly, it was easier to accept the man could control a bird than flash across the store in the blink of an eye.

My sights snapped back on him, watching every move he made. As if I'd ever get enough warning. Futile or not, I couldn't help it. It was if some primal instinct was in control. And right now, it was screaming danger!

His head tilted, eerily reminiscent of the bird he'd been puppeting. His bangs were long—and messy—enough that a bit fell over his eye. His handsome face fixed into a mien of nonchalance that didn't quite quench the excited sparkle in eyes. Like sunlight reflecting of a frozen lake, it was almost blinding staring directly into them. All of him was as picture perfect as a winter landscape, and yet, as remote. Cold and barren.

The sensation of wrongness I'd sought earlier in Stefan I found in Damon. In spades. I felt it right in my gut, where it squirmed like a tangled ball of worms. Made me itch to find an exit. Get away. Even as he asked, "You okay?"

I wasn't alone. The shop keeper, an older man, stood behind the counter. Unaware of the danger, he sent me a polite smile before turning back to the computer sitting beside the register. The rest of the place was a claustrophobic nightmare. Display tables packed narrowly together, covered in every kind of knick-knack imaginable. It'd be a mess to try and run through. Despair threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. He was the only other human in the place. That wasn't going to stop a vampire who could compel him to forget. Or kill us both before we even knew what was happening.

Heart thumping so hard I was surprised my ribs weren't rattling, I summoned the steadiest smile I was able to and nodded. "Yeah. Just," a drew a breath through my nose, "startled. Should have been paying attention." Like that would've helped.

The bastard's mouth curled into a playful smile. "Sorry." He didn't sound it. At all. His tall legs brought him a step closer. Fully in the center of his attention, I couldn't help feel like a mouse under the bobbing head of a snake. "You ran in here so fast, I thought you were in trouble."

I squeezed the strap on my book bag, holding the smile on my face before shaking my head. "No." I lied. "It's—I'm fine. Really."

Damon leaned to the side, pleasure slipping into those animated eyes. Too animated. Like he was exaggerating his expressions. "That's a relief." He smiled as he took another step, putting him within arm's reach. "Pretty little thing like you," the curve of his lips turned thin and wicked before he added, "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something…bad…happened."

Knowing what I did about him, I couldn't help but hear an implied threat. The corners of my already brittle smile tried to slide right down. I willed them to stay up, though it probably came off as a tad bit rictus.

He didn't seem to notice. Or, more likely, care. "I'm Damon, by the way." He held out a hand.

I didn't want to take it. Would it set him off if I didn't? Make him suspicious that I knew more than I should about him? But the moment was stretching towards too long. My mind gave off an inner scream I slipped my hand into his. He had to have noticed my palm was clammy as it met his. He didn't seem bothered by it. On the contrary, his eyes darkened.

Bothered by the implications, I focused on the softness of his skin. I'd expected him to be colder. Stiff like my grandmother's hand had been when I'd tried curling mine over it as I'd stood by her coffin. Damon's felt very alive. The muscles and bones all shifted as he gave a gentle squeeze, the borrowed blood in his veins warming his skin. "Elena."

"Elena. Hm." His eyes narrowed. "Sure you're okay, Elena?"

"Yeah." I made to pull my hand back, relieved when he didn't try to hold on. "I, um. I saw a bird." His brows flew up. I inwardly cursed him to hell. Since magic existed here, I hoped it'd work. Recalling a line from the show, I said, "It was very Hitchcock."

"A girl who can make a classic horror reference. Nice." Seeing how well known The Birds and Hitchcock were, I didn't think it was all that impressive. I couldn't decide if he was trying to flatter me, or if his opinion of teenagers—of humans in general—was that low. "If you're worried, I'd be happy to walk you home." He leaned closer, and it took everything in me not to draw away. His voice lowered as if he meant to share a secret. "I make a great scarecrow."

Oh hell no. "That's... really nice of you to offer." My bag's strap let out a tortured creak as my hand flew to it and squeezed. "But, I'm—waiting. For my aunt. She's picking me up soon."

"Mm." His smile stretched a little wider before he looked straight into my eyes and said, "But she's running late, isn't she? It'll be a while before she gets here."

I blinked, glancing around towards the window as I realized, "Jenna's probably running late, though. I don't know when she'll get here." Especially as she had no idea where I was. Or that I'd need her to pick me up.

Damon smiled. Soon as our eyes met, he was speaking again with that same intense stare, "You want me to walk you home."

Given all the dangerous things lurking around Mystic Falls, who better to keep away the monsters than a psycho vampire that had already killed several people since coming to town? "I want you to walk me home." Wait, that didn't seem right. After a moment, I added, "If you don't mind." There. Shouldn't assume things. That would be rude.

Damon's answering grin was all sunshine. Cold, wintry sunshine. "Of course not." He swept out an arm in an old fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. "After you, Miss Gilbert."

Had I told him that? No. Damon must've been stalking Elena well before this morning. He'd know where she lived, then! I smiled at him before leading him through the door.

[talkingtotheapples]

Hey remember when I said I’d do a lyric analysis of northern downpour, and then didn’t do that for like 6 months? yeah here we go:

the opening line of Northern Downpour: “if all our life is but dream” really sets the tone for the song, its half quoting a children’s song; establishing the almost nursery rhyme aesthetic the has going on for large parts. The changes Ryan makes to the line also reveal important thematic elements in the song--“life is but a dream” is changed from a definitive and general statement; its no longer commenting about general reality but rather questioning all his established feelings about their relationship. He is turning to the other person and saying “is any of this real? is this all a fantasy ive built up in my head?” it feels almost as if he is Begging them to contradict him, to tell him what they have is good and Real and not just “broken glass”, that for a second looked like “diamonds”, and although theres a desperate uncertainty to how hes wording these thoughts “/if/ all our life is but a dream” “/do appear/ to be, just like broken glass /to me/“ you get a sense its less that he’s unsure and more that he has this realization and he is /Praying/ he is wrong.

The second verse seems to be the other person’s reply, but instead of addressing his thoughts and questions they turns to what seem like general criticisms of him “i cant believe that genius only comes across in storms of fable foreign tongues”, this line seems to be a dig at how he expresses himself: unorganized, wild, and hard to understand, while they insist thats this cant be the only way, they offer him this rather than, as noted before, addressing his fear that they’re relationship is nothing more than a fantasy or a dream.

The chorus seems to shift away slightly from the conversation the first to verses are detailing, the tone also switches back to the nursery rhyme that was present in the first line of the song. It’s directed to a personified version of the moon, a common theme in english nursery rhymes, it’s also reminiscent of ‘rain, rain go away’ although reversed in meaning. Overall the line is almost a prayer, begging the moon to say in the in the hope that that would freeze this moment forever, this hope adds a sense of anxiety to the whole song as if whatever happiness is held in this moment is fragile and will inevitably end with the day break. Using a child like tone gives the line an innocent edge, innocent as in ignorant rather, he’s asking for an impossible thing, wording it like a nursery rhyme or children’s song acknowledges this, asking for this night/this moment/ maybe even this entire relationship to last is as fruitless as child singing to that rain in the hope that it will bring fair weather

“Sugarcane in the easy morning/weathervanes my one and lonely”; speaks of Contrast; the first line feels to me to be about happiness and contentment: sugarcane is sweet and wonderful but also simple and natural, he also used the word ‘easy’ which i think compounds that, its a situation that is happy and beautiful but also effortless then you add the setting of the morning time which brings with it a sense of domesticality, and so the line paints a picture of a relationship or situation that is blissful and warm but natural and content also(much like a home)This is immediately contrasted with the next line; ‘weathervanes my one and lonely’ : weathervanes are an image that instantly conjure(for me anyway) ideas of isolation, they are distant from everything, they’re an object you own but have no physical contact with, this is then emphasized by the weathervane being described as lonely, Ryan, by using a possessive phrase aligns himself with the weathervane, creating the suggestion they are the same(he is also isolated and alone). Further more the choice of a weathervane suggests location as well, theyre an object rarely if ever found in the city, an object that is completely connected to farm life, as this is a song written by someone who lives in a city but travels long, long distances through the country seeing things like weathervanes would be a visual reminder that he’s a far from home as it well as being an object that is ‘lonely’ in its own right, bringing us back to the ‘one and lonely’ part, they’re joined together by their equal loneliness.

we shift back to the conversation here with a description of the of the other person talking: “through playful lips made of yarn”, Ryan has been using body imagery through out the song, and theres often been a subtle personification of the body parts, which is very true in this case. Instead of the speaker being simply described as talking the words move through their ‘playful lips’, which gives the words an edge of agency in their own right. But in this case he hasn’t just personified the lips, he’s also given them a sense of the artificial, by describing them as being made of ‘yarn’, not only is it a artificial material, it also has a strikingly different texture to lips(the line wouldnt have the same effect had he used plastic instead) the description gains a very haptic feel to it, but also alien and strange, potentially indicating his feelings towards the other person at this point.

The emotion of the verse starts shifts back to the more distraught feeling at the start of the song, the “Capricorn” is described as “fragile” and the words the came from the “playful lips” now “unravel”. As if the as the conversation progresses the other person gets more and more upset, and their speech more jumbled.

There isn’t a clear indication who or what ‘that fragile capricorn’ is, the natural inclination is that it’s the other person(presumably they are a capricorn) but its place in the verse seems to suggest otherwise— it seem to be the cause for the mood change, “/That/ fragile Capricorn /unraveled/ words like moths upon old scarves”, like it is the cause for the unraveling, I want to argue that its an outside force or situation, potentially the conversation they are currently having; tentative and hanging over their heads.

this is immediately followed by, what ryan described as the central line of p.o.: “I know the world’s a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home”, in the context of this song potentially being about a troubled relationship it could be taken to be about that specifically, a plea either to the other person or himself to keep working on the problems in their relationship, but I think its almost meant to be taken in general sense,(potentially as well) its not enough to just acknowledge the ways in which your life, or the wide world is hard and harmful and then to wallow it that pain, rather you have to then be proactive in that situation and Make It Better(which is a bit of a theme in jon’s solo music but i Digress).

the song then moves back into a repetition of the ‘sugarcane’ line, eventually interlaced with ‘hey moon’, finally the song ends on two new lines: “You are at the top of my lungs/Drawn to the ones who never yawn” and return to the body imagery that has ran through the song, “you are at the top of my lungs” has implication of someone ‘taking your breathe away’(tho its infinitely better worded that i actually feel guilty describing it as such but i dont know how else to put it). yawning is a sign of tiredness or boredom so the opposite of that invokes connotations of focus or intensity, tho i got to say im unclear as to whether that line refers to Him being “drawn to the ones who never yawn” or the other person, I default on it being the other person because of the wording but it makes more sense to me if it refers to ryan idk

basically northern downpour is a song that sits tentatively strung between the knowledge that maybe this relationship isnt the healthiest and being So in love with the other person that you almost dont care but mainly desperately want to be proved wrong, desperately begging the moon to stay in the sky so this Good moment doesnt end and you wont have to face reality by the harsh light of day

Some Notes

•this might be a a bit of a hot take idk it isnt really what i thought about the song until i thought intensly about each line for hours but once i landed on it the more i became convinced that was what the song was talking about, its still just my interpretation tho, how ever you interpretated it is just as valid u know, and if you wanna send me your thoughts about northern downpour(or any song off pretty odd lmao) please feel free! i obviously have Thoughts lmaoo

•kinda wanna write an entire piece about how northern downpour, dangrous blues and lie to the truth are basically a trilogy, kinda wanna cry

•i had to physically stop myself from writing an entire paragraph about how ‘i know the worlds a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home’ is a progression from the central ideas of fever and im real emotional about it but i managed to control myself cos it didnt really fit

[theanoninyouraskblog]

Well, well, well

You all know the drill. Lets go. @erasermic-aus​ this is gonna be fun.

Lets get right into it. 

Obvious: 

1: That's a hand over a mouth right there, but more on that later. 

2: Grey colors, and they match his sweater. A nice touch. But more importantly it implies sadness, hopelessness depression etc. 

3: Lets talk about these words, I’m a good kid I swear, what did you do Yamada? What did you DO?!?

4: This is actually very interesting, so far all we’ve gotten about this AU’s hizashi has been adult, and we have nothing about Shouta, but back to Hizashi. As we can see he’s got the shorter hair cut typically associated with his youth. In addition to the kid mention, so unless we’re dabbling in multiple universe theorem, we can assume this is the younger version of this guy. 

Now, lets look at some more subtle elements. 

1: That's some tears, he’s crying, once more, more on the story elements of this later. 

2: Interesting way of doing the colors Henry. In fact, it’s actually a commonly used technique. With darkness fading into light a lot of classic scenes from shows and movies are made, usually symbolizing conflict, however there are two types. The dark at the top fading down to light, which typically takes place when the conflict is external, think... superhero or someone getting shot, those are the two places this is used most often. Fading dark to light bottom to top is usually symbolizing internal conflict. 

3: That's an interesting way to draw the ground, and while I’m pretty sure its stylistic, it does make our gray background look a lot like smoke, which brings up the question, is this dust from rubble? More on this in a bit, I swear, I’m getting to it. 

Posturing: 

Well first thing to point out is he's kneeling, not like some one hit him and he fell back, so we’re saying he fell to his knees. Covering his mouth, head down, he cant bring himself to look up, shoulders hunched. 

Actually looks a bit like a panic attack.

And that seems like all I can get out of this picture.

BUT DONT WORRY!

There is in fact not just one piece of art but two!

You’ll have to forgive me, I normally screen shot these so they’re easier for me to find, his hair got a bit chopped off. 

OH HO, HO!

Lets get through the stuff, I’ll get to story right after we do these notes. 

Obvious: 

1: Hand over mouth again, I’ll go into detail about this during posturing. 

2: He’s crying, poor lad!

3: That's not the same sweater as the previous image, which either means henry decided to draw him differently for no reason or this is a separate occasion of Hizashi having a break down. 

4: Mute? Hizashi Yamada? Did I hear you right? Hizashi Yamada is not mute. Besides we know this Hizashi can speak from the previous art. No this refers to something else, he doesn't want to speak, or feels like he cant. I’m barely restraining myself from spilling my theory, bear with me. 

Subtle: 

1: Hizashi isn't wearing hearing aids. I know this because I have it from reliable sources. And by that I mean Henry himself: 

So we can assume this is either A: Before Hizashi’s hearing damage was diagnosed, or B: he/his family cant afford them yet. However he does get them later in life as we can see here: 

2: This is more so posturing but that's the same hand over the mouth and same hand down... interesting

3: Once again the background conveys internal conflict. 

Posturing:

Hand over mouth again, you know what this reminds me of: 

Pearl.

If you don't know pearl from Steven Universe, without going into too much detail or spoilers, Pearl is unable to talk about a certain... thing. Basically she cant talk about something traumatic to her because she’s sworn to keep it a secret. 

Now while I doubt this is the same situation for Hizashi, I think its clear he’s suffering through something, regret of some deed or something like that and he’s taken to covering his mouth as a sort of... coping method per say. 

I think we can finally move to story.

Now this is what I think happened: 

Hizashi as a young child developed his quirk and it was so destructive, he was unable to keep it under wraps, now I’m terrible at guessing age, but this hizashi is probably between 8 and uhh 13. He loses control of his quirk and kills/hurts someone, and while this could defiantly be a stranger I’m suspecting it was someone close to him, probably one of the only people who supported him and maybe if they feel like twisting the knife they say something about being wrong after all before they die. 

The destructiveness of his quirk leads to him collapsing in shame (see image 1) swearing that he never meant to do this among the dust and rubble. 

People start treating him like a criminal/start talking about a quirk like his could never be used for good or he could never be a hero, he was only destine to hurt. Think Shinsou if you will. 

He takes to covering his mouth, staying quiet, he doesn't really speak, too afraid to hurt someone, but over the years the resentment of the people around him begins to wear on him. 

I’m thinking something happens, probably mid to late teenage years, perhaps someone tries to hurt him or kill him and he kills them or at least makes them fear him. 

The mania begins to set in, his eyes dilate and become wild, maybe a smudge of blood at his jaw. 

He turns to a life of villainy, with a radio show/maybe blog, where he may or may not admit to being a villain on it, maybe it’s the Present Mic Radio Show, and he’s just the only villain wild enough to have a radio show where they talk about their villainous activities, but anyway he has this radio show. 

One night while he’s off villaining he runs in to either hero Eraserhead or Villain Eraserhead, and develops a massive crush or at least a slight obsession. 

He proceeds to gush about it on his show (”He Was Amazing”).

Now this is where everything gets more vague and we have to rely on circumstantial evidence. 

Specifically: 

And 

Now my two shakes go like this: After their encounter, at some point Hizashi captures Aizawa. 

After that your guess is as good as mine. 

Unless of course you’re henry or windy in which case. 

Better look out, I’ve finally got something to sink my teeth into and I don't plan on letting go. 

[ainarosewood]

Prompt #28 Attune Harmony

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Minor WHM Quest spoilers beneath the cut mostly name references.  Also reference to the Battle of Ala Mhigo

Kan’E’Senna sat in her seat of office in the Lotus Stand listening to the burble of the waterfall trying to let its tranquility soothe her troubled self.  Ever since the Battle for Ala Mhigo she had been unable to calm her self enough to hear the voices of the elementals.  She knew the reason for this the padjal had found herself still shaking with fear every now and then due to events during the battle.

Instantly her mind flashed back to it, The last of the Serpent Sworn dropping to the ground, the bite of the blade as it slashed so deep she couldn't concentrate enough to heal the wound.  Staring helpless at the sneering Garlean as he raised his blade to end her only to be surrounding in a flare of aether and seeing the man drop his spine snapping with a sickening crunch.  There standing over him  was Rhonar the dragoon looking at her briefly before turning and dispatching the remaining soldiers that were rushing forward.  Then she felt a shift in aether as the Hrothgar switched to White Mage and began healing her wounds.  “My men...” she had gasped.  He silently nodded then turned to them as well.  Once all were healed he switched back to dragoon gave her a nod and leapt skyward heading back into the battle.

Kan’E’s hands began to tremble and swiftly she clasped them together trying to dispel the memories.  She took several breaths to calm herself then again tried to attune herself to the forest, to no avail.  How could she find harmony with the forest if her own internal harmony was in such dissonance.  Sighing she stood giving up on her attempts listen to the forest.  Despondent she left the Lotus Stand to return to her office to an undeniable mountain of reports that awaited her attention.  The padjal was so distracted that she failed to see the small winged form hurry of out of the stand heading south.

*****************************************************************************************

Rhonar dismounted from Softfeather leading the chocobo across the planked path heading for where he knew he’d find Raya’O’Senna.  He knew that the young padjal would have returned earlier in the day from leaving the Xalea woman Alaqa safely in the hands of the conjurers guild to get proper training.

What he was not expecting was to see an agitated Kuplo Kopp fluttering around her speaking so rapidly he could hardly keep up with his squeaky tones. Raya’O nodded her face etched with worry and she said, “We will think of something Kuplo Kopp you should probably return to Central Shroud for now.”

The moogle nodded still obviously distressed and fluttered off his pom dropping quite low.  Raya’O then turned toward Rhonar and gave a warm smile. “Welcome back, Alaqa is still getting settled in at Stillglade Fen incase your wondering,”

“That's good,” the Hrothgar rumbled in response then cocked his head questionably, “So what has Kuplo Kopp so agitated?”

Raya’O’s smile faded and she sighed, “My older sister.  It seems she is not herself since she returned from Ala Mhigo…”

“Ah, I’m not surprised.  She was in the thick of the battle and while I know for a fact it was not her first...it was the first time she’d actually been amongst the actually fighting not just observing it from afar.”

The young padjal paused a moment placing her hand beneath her chin as she was want to do when thinking, “So something had happened to her during the battle.”

“Aye,” Rhonar responded, “But it was swiftly dealt with I know because I was the one who took care of it.”

She gave him a hard look for a moment then said, “That's all your gonna tell me isn't it?”

He held up both his hands in a placating motions saying, “Its not my place to tell you if your sister hasn't.”

Raya’O huffed in annoyance but didn't press him for details instead she said, “Since you seem to know what troubles her why don't you see about helping her.  Nophica knows she wont tell me or A’Ruhn what’s wrong.”

The Hrothgar looked at her in surprise but then nodded stating, “I’ll try...not sure what I can do but...”

“Off you go then,” Raya’O shooed, “Back to Gridania see if you can get that stubborn woman to talk.”

Not sure what else to do Rhonar readied his return spell and heading for Gridania.

****************************************************************************************

Kan’E had her head resting on her desk sighing in frustration she couldn't even get herself to focus on the reports that laid there.  She started as a knock sounded on her door and she heard Elle the conjurer who acted as her secretary say, “My Lady, the Warrior of Light is here to see you.”

Instantly the woman brought herself upright stating, “Let him in,”

The Hrothgar strode in a moment later thanking the small hyur who held the door for him.  Kan”E stood and said warmly, “Welcome Rhonar please take a seat.  Would you care for some tea?”

He nodded as he took the seat she indicated.  He watched her closely as she turned to ready the tea and he didn't need his senses to tell him the woman’s aether was off.  Her aura was normally so gentle and soothing but right now it was in chaos.

“Are you alright Kan’E?” he asked gently

The padjal paused cups in had shaking slightly before she set them down turning to the Hrothgar she said softly, “No,”

He waited patiently seeing she clearly wanted to say more.  She was silent for a long time then she whispered, “I cant seem to calm down.  Its been weeks since the battle, weeks since....”

“Since you stared death in the face,” He said quietly

Tears filled her green eyes as she continued, “Aye...But I survived as did the others thanks to you but I still find myself troubled.  I had never felt so helpless until that moment and I....”

He got up and gently pulled the padjal into a hug as she broke down crying, “Its.. not easy facing something like that Kan’E.  You knew how close it was this is not at all a surprising reaction.”

Leaning against him she sobbed, “I know but I find myself out of sorts I cant concentrate enough to hear the will of the elementals...I’m....failing my people.”

He just held her as she cried praying that none of the Serpent Sworn in the hall heard this mainly because she needed it.  After a small length of time she finally stopped crying still leaning on him for the support he provided quietly she rasped, “I’m sorry this is hardly something I should be burdening you with.”

He shook his head stating, “Nonsense everyone needs to be able to speak of what bothers them.  I am not beholden to you alone therefore you do not have to put on airs for me.”

The Hrothgar then sat down still holding the woman in his arms she just sat there in his lap appreciating the comfort he was giving and finding herself at last at peace.

After a few more moments she stood up saying softly, “Thank you...it...it seems I just needed to voice what was bothering me I...feel...a lot better now.”

He gave her a toothy smile then replied, “Sometimes all we need is someone with a sympathetic ear and a warm hug to ease our woes.”

She then laughed for the first time in weeks and responded, “Aye now are you still interested in that tea?”

“Of course my lady,” he beamed, “You make the most delicious tea.”

Kan’E laughed again and finished making him the cup of tea asking about his most recent adventures as she sat back down and resumed her paperwork.