#and that pain turns them into something they're not

[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[senmiyaazx]

Can you do reader that has SH scars or Them finding out that reader SH's

With Sol & Hyugo..!

But it's ok if you don't do it since its a sensitive topic!

tw: sensitive topics, self harm

a/n: can't decide which format i want to use for these kind of requests. thank you for the request <3

important note: if you're struggling with sh, please tell someone you trust or seek help. i do not know you, but i know that you are not alone in this. i hope things get better for everyone who's reading this:)

SOL:

Reader still does sh:

Oh, he's worried. Extremely worried. How could he not notice all this time? How could he not notice his darling was in pain? He feels horrible. Whether he discovers it accidentally or not, rest assured he won't pressure you into anything. He'll listen to your story and problems when you're comfortable and ready. He'll pull you into a hug while holding back tears. He's been through some shit and he knows how it feels. But he never wants to see it happen to you. If you're doing this because of someone, Sol will make sure they're taken care of. You don't have to worry <3 If it's because of something else and more personal, it's okay. He'll be with you till the end of time. From now on, he makes it his mission to watch over you more closely whenever he can, no matter how unethical. He's more subtle this time, though. He doesn't need you stressing even more.

He's still worried. And also a little upset. That was from a long time, wasn't it? You didn't know him back then. He wonders if he could've comforted you out of it, held you in his arms while you weeped. If only he could turn back time... Alas, there's other things to worry about. He's glad to hear that you're recovering, and you promised to never do it again. He'll help you on your journey. Sol isn't the most mentally stable himself, so I don't think he'll be much help either lol but for you? He's searching and making lists of healthy coping mechanisms he can give you. Thinks your scars are beautiful. He hated how it was made, but now it has faded and all that remains is the symbol of your strength and the fact you've made it this far despite being in an extremely tough situation. He'll kiss you on the forehead and tell you how proud he is. How happy he is.

Reader has sh scars (recovering):

HYUGO:

Reader still does sh:

He's very mysterious. I find it hard to write for him. Hyugo feels a mix of emotions wash over him when he discovers it. Shock, sadness and anger. Shocked, because like Sol, he couldn't believe he didn't notice anything until now. Sadness, because he couldn't imagine the pain you went through to resort to such thing. Anger, at himself and anyone or anything that caused you pain. He knows he can't use jokes or happy things to lighten up the mood like he usually does. Instead, he gently guides you to his arms and wraps you in a warm embrace. He'll whisper comforting words while you tell him things that have bothered you and asked you to promise him you'll never hurt yourself again and in return, he'll help you heal. You're hesitant. You didn't want to feel indebted to him, but he insisted. His determination made you embarrassed so you agreed. Since then, he's been extra caring (but not overbearing) to you and made sure to check in on you every chance he gets. If somehow he doesn't get to see you for the entire day, he'll call you in the middle of the night to ask about your day and it ends up being a long session of late night talks. Or he could just knock on your door and you'd let him in anyway. He knows he can't entirely prevent bad things from happening, but he can help lessen it for you. He'll be your sunshine, where you'll never feel miserable again under his bright smile. Of course, you do the same for him. You help each other out in your own ways eventually

Reader has sh scars (recovering):

When he first saw it, he didn't overreact or give a strong reaction. He smiles softly and grabs your hand, praising you for getting through your problems and even start to recover. It's something not many people are strong enough to do especially in your situation, but you did. And he makes sure to emphasize that. You guys end up sharing each other's experiences and stories (mostly you, he's still secretive and doesn't want to reveal anything bad) and find things you two relate to. He's overall a chill guy to have around. He won't make a big deal out of it if you don't and it's honestly really comforting. You don't notice it but he's secretly a little more cautious and gentle with you. He makes sure nothing hurts you again.

[the-bi-space-ace]

I’m Cold

I told you I was back on my Crosshair and Echo bullshit and you couldn’t stop me and I’m back again. This time with another headcanon and a short fic for EchoVember for everyone to enjoy 🩶

I think the phrase “I’m cold.” Became a sign for these two to let the other comfort them. To stop arguments about feeling coddled or not wanting to appear weak. “I’m cold” means move over. Let me take some of the burden. Don’t argue with me. It’s a way to make the other feel better about accepting comfort so they feel more willing to accept it, as if they're helping the other person instead.

How about a cute little fic about how that starts?

Have you ever wanted a fic like "Oh, Shut Up" but the roles reversed? Well, here ya go! Some Echo and Crosshair hurt/comfort for your enjoyment <3

Happy Echovember!

Echo woke to what sounded like the cross of a groan and a whine, high pitched but pained. Instinct threw him to his feet, touching down onto the metal floor of the Marauder, confronted only with the dim light of the bunk room and the subtle snores from his squad. All sleeping except for Wrecker up in the cockpit on watch. It was still deep in the night cycle, their next mission still a rotation out from their current position. There that noise was again. This time Echo could pinpoint where it was coming from. He turned towards it, spotting the restless lump on the bunk across from him. 

Crosshair was sleeping but it wasn’t restful, body tossing and turning underneath the covers. Every so often he let out a noise not unlike the first one. Short gasps and grumbles that could have been words but Echo couldn’t discern what he was trying to say. It wasn’t often that Crosshair got nightmares. There were always times bad dreams plagued them but Crosshair’s were few and far between. It was always possible that he just hid it better than the rest of them, too proud to show himself needing help in front of them. On the rare occasion he couldn’t hide it, usually Wrecker was at his side the second he made a noise, not even bothering to wake him up before climbing into the bunk. Crosshair always grumbled, bit back something snappy about how he’d been woken up, but he let Wrecker lay with him. Maybe that said more about Crosshair’s state in those moments than anything else. 

Another toss, face screwed up in pain, and Echo couldn’t wait any longer. He was careful not to let his feet make noise when he started to tip toe over to the other bunk. Noise behind him drew his eyes upward, meeting Hunter’s gaze as he was midway through tossing his own blanket off. Hunter tipped his head at Echo, eyes darting between him and their suffering squadmate. Was he the best person for this? That he didn’t quite know but he was already out of bed. No need to have someone else take over what he’d already determined he would do. 

Echo paused but flashed a quick hand signal to his sergeant. 

I’ll take point. 

Surprise flashed across Hunter’s expression for only a second then he flashed a quick OK before settling back down in his bunk. Echo could feel the eyes still on him but he’d committed to this course of action and he’d never been one to give up so soon. 

Approaching a squad mate had never felt so weighty before. The dominoes had been loud, excitable, but he’d never felt quite so out of his depth. Perhaps approaching from eye level was safer. Echo crouched by the side of the bunk so he could watch Crosshair’s face, screwed up as it was. Tear tracks ran down his face, unable to stop the emotion while still asleep, leaving a glistening target in the dark. Echo took a deep breath. 

“Crosshair.” Echo whispered. Nothing. Still tossing and turning uninhibited. With gentleness he’d not exhibited in a while he laid a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, rocking him gently. “Hey, Cross.” The touch woke him almost instantly, breath sucked in through his nose and bleary eyes cracking open. As quick and observant as ever, Crosshair closed his eyes again and rubbed the back of his arm over his face, trying to disguise the telltale sign of tears. 

Echo’s heart squeezed a bit. He didn’t have to do that. Hide. Not from any of them. 

“What do you want, reg?” He bit out. Scratchiness from sleep mixed with a thickness that Echo hadn’t heard from Crosshair before. 

“You were making noise.” Echo said. His hand was pushed away as Crosshair rolled over onto his back, eyes studying the ceiling above him. 

Crosshair scoffed. “Sorry to disturb your sleep, didn’t realize regs needed such perfect conditions to pass out.” He sniffed, rubbing his arm over his eyes once more to confirm he’d gotten all of the tears off of his cheeks. Echo felt like he was trying to approach a scared tooka, one that was one step away from hissing and batting him away. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, ignoring the dig.

“Piss off.” Crosshair bit out, head turning to face the opposite wall. Wasn’t an answer to the question. 

“I get nightmares, too, ya know.” Echo sighed, resting his arm and scomp against each other on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m aware.” He grumbled, letting them fall into silence. The quiet only lasted until Crosshair huffed, turning back onto his side to stare menacingly at Echo. The red rimmed eyes undercut the curated mask. “Just go back to bed.” A dismissal. He wasn’t going to be thwarted that easily. Breaking down Crosshair’s walls took consistency. He was learning the longer he spent with Clone Force 99 that his bond with Crosshair would take work but once it was earned it would be difficult to break. 

Echo was planning on earning it.

“Already awake. No sense going all the way over there again.” Echo shrugged, gesturing behind him with his scomp. All it did was make Crosshair glare a bit harder as if it would scare Echo away from him. Most of the bite to him was to scare people off, not let them too close otherwise they might start to matter. That’s what freaked Crosshair out, Echo was sure of it, that someone new might matter to him and it would hurt if one day they were gone. Better to ruin it before it got to that point, frighten off Echo before he made up his mind and decided to stay for good. 

Not a chance he was letting that happen. 

Echo had twice Crosshair’s weight in stubbornness. Once his mind was made up he was sticking to it, even if he had to get knocked down a few times before he could stand on his own two feet. He met the glare with a raised eyebrow, tipping his head in challenge. 

A petulant eye roll accompanied a tired deflation. “I’m fine, reg. Use your pity on someone else.” 

“It’s not pity. You woke me, remember? This is your punishment for that.” The joke halfway landed, he saw it in Crosshair’s eyes, but it wasn’t quite enough to soften his mood, still grumbling and keeping his feelings too close to his chest. Echo reached his scomp out as an offering, one that Crosshair eyed but didn’t take. Not taking any of the bait. Must’ve been a pretty shitty dream. Echo deflated. His mind raced through options. Whatever he chose to do might get him slapped for his effort with the way his squadmate was reacting. He was at a loss until he shrugged, letting his head lay on his folded arm. 

“I’m cold.” Echo wasn’t sure how he had meant that to sound, how he’d like it to be taken, but waiting was the only way you got an answer out of their sniper. Crosshair watched his face for what felt like a full minute, thoughts racing behind steady eyes, brow pinching with that well earned skepticism. Temperature was almost always consistent on ships, especially theirs. Tech didn’t like it fluctuating too much. Bad for his ship as he’d say. The ‘cold’ was a poor excuse and they both knew it. Giving up was on the horizon, he’d fumbled this interaction enough it was about time to pack it in, but Crosshair surprised him as he often did. 

Crosshair shuffled backwards, making room on the tiny regulation bunk, then lifted the blanket as if offering an invitation. Hesitation would only make Crosshair skittish so Echo took the opportunity in stride and slid into the free space. The mattress was warm, heated by the body recently laying in that spot, and the blanket thrown over his shoulders added to the exchange of body heat. Echo turned onto his back and lifted his arm to let Crosshair scoot forward, tucking into the space to rest his head comfortably on his chest. Echo held him tightly, hand rubbing absentmindedly over the expanse of his back. A weary sigh left the other man’s body, finally melting into Echo’s side like it had brought at least some relief. 

Echo would like to believe that he could still give this kind of comfort. That he wasn’t so changed that his squad wouldn’t want to share such close space with him. He remembered holding Fives like this, carding fingers through his hair. Crosshair’s wasn’t quite as long but it was enough to run the tips of his fingers through, blunt nails scratching lightly over his scalp. 

“Echo?” The muffled voice brought Echo’s eyes downward. Crosshair wasn’t looking at him but he did squeeze tighter into the space, pressing his forehead to Echo’s neck, his arm stretching across Echo’s waist to keep the hold firm. No other words came but he got the message. Whether it was the way he squeezed back or the way his chest stuttered every so often Echo wouldn’t ever divulge. It was enough of an admission. Enough to know he was on the right track. Echo was as content to be the source of warmth for the night as Crosshair was to accept it now. 

Protectiveness swept through him, almost overwhelmingly so. Something in him wanted to chase away all of those sour thoughts. The ones that made pits grow in your stomach and your throat tighten. Make sure none of Clone Force 99 had to hurt, even if that hurt came in the form of nightmares or cold nights. Without thinking too hard about it Echo pressed a quick kiss to the top of Crosshair’s head. “I know, Cross, I know.” 

[twosides--samecoin]

Free yourself of your ego so you can put your nose to the grindstone and do the real work.

I see so many writers who seem to think that they're supposed to get it 100% right on the first try, and that's just not how storycraft works. Most of the books in publication today have several rounds of drafts where the manuscript is passed back and forth between the editing team and author. If your fave author needed an editing team, you're allowed to have a shitty first draft.

If it fails to meet your expectations, use it as a learning opportunity. Open the document side by side with a copy of itself and make changes on the new copy. Learn from what disappoints you.

& it's never about "failing to do the story justice", it's more often than not about a ton of other preconceived notions about writing or self-esteem/self-imposed limitations. It's often about protecting one's inner perfectionist and/or gifted kid who will feel an earth-shattering pain if something they put into the world reflects poorly upon them.

But you have to allow yourself to draft. You have to spend time with the work and form a relationship with it. You have to be willing to learn your bad habits and edit your own words. You must learn to wait a day to fix issues before you post. Leave your worries at the door. Turn your focus toward improving the skill of writing.

If you'd accept, "Oh, right, you can't paint a Rembrandt when you're just starting out - that's a really crazy expectation to have on a beginner painter", then that same understanding and grace can and should be applied to storycraft.

It's also just not that serious. The edit button exists for a reason - I went back and edited the first 115k of Long Time Running earlier this year and am about to go back and edit more, because my skill grew and I keep noticing little things I can improve.

This is not a zero-sum game: the story is something you build toward over time, not something that happens immediately.

The most frustrating experience as a writer is having a clear vision in your mind of the story you want to tell but being too afraid to put pen to paper for fear of failing to do the story justice. I’m so scared that my actual execution will fail to meet my expectations that I’m paralysed to even start.

[sockatoothewafflebird]

u prolly have already but pls i want in depth yap abt caitvi in arc3 and how they heal :)

oh anon i have NOT yapped about how they heal. not in detail at least. so here we go. there's not a lot that hasn't been said about them, but i'd like to put my perspective into the ring just because. as an eldest sister and as a lesbian i can relate to vi in a lot of ways.

i think my main takeaway for caitvi in act 3 is how they're both human, in the ways they love and in the ways they fight. arcane is a show that respects its audience and trusts us to be able to read between the lines and i appreciate how you can see every little detail of the words they're not saying if you look close enough.

in The Scene especially you can see just how real theyre being... im not gonna dwell on it, but by the skin of my teeth and the bones in my knees they LOVE each other. you can see it so clearly.

caitlyn walks in on vi questioning everything she is. violet legit just let her sister slip from her fingers, again. i cannot tell you how many times i've felt guilty when my sister or brother are hurt or do something wrong, even if i had no part in it. i cannot imagine how much it would hurt to lose them and keep going only because of the possibility of finding them again, and then when i finally do find then they're ripped from my arms. and it happens more than once. i would be in the same place vi is. blaming herself for all of it. making the burden of protecting her sister all hers and no one else's. wondering whether or not she's doing the right thing at all. (cough coughh petra minecraft is that you)

as stressful as they can be sometimes they're my siblings and i'd do anytning for them. and with the kind of person vi is, for her that means punching whoever's in the way. doing whatever she can. she has a big heart and she's never lost it.

after caitlyn basically dumped her in the most entitled way possible vi had nothing left. no one to protect and nothing to fight for. so she fought just for the sake of fighting. after getting her family back and losing them again (holy ballsockets she was put through the wringer) all she had was cait even if cait hurt her. i think even if cait never did anytbing to make it up to her, she would have stayed, because vi needs an anchor.

caitlyn's hurt a lot of people directly or indirectly. she grew up priveleged and stayed that way, never truly seeing exactly how much pain people are going through until it's too late to turn back. caitlyn's arc is a very interesting one because she never says the words "i'm sorry". she never tells vi that what she did was wrong and that she wants to fix it. but she does things that prove her remorse.

caitlyn works with vi in the end of act 2. i think this is partially because she was already skeptical of ambessa from the start, and partially because she wanted to find a way to make it up to her. caitlyn doesn't fold as soon as vi calls her cupcake, that's not what the look is. The Look is her thinking, "wait, does she not hate me? why did she call me her term of endearment even after everything i've done?"

in act 3, caitlyn takes all the guards out of the prison, because she knew vi would try to rescue her sister. in the words of another post i forgot to save (deepest apologies to the op of that one), vi could have taken jinx and ran. caitlyn might have never seen her again and she let that happen anyway. and cait even went to the cell to check to see if her theory was true, and lo and behold it was. and vi failed at trying to save her sister. again.

what does caitlyn do? she tells vi that she relieved the prison of the guards because of her. all confident and sultry and commanding like she knows what she's doing.

and then when they're getting into it caitlyn frantically pulls away. she realizes that, yeah, she still needs to make things right. she tries to be honest, tell vi that she saw someone else, and vi just reassures her and keeps going. i think thisnis because 1) vi wants the cupcake, who wouldn't, and 2) she's... not exactly forgiving, that needs more work- but she's showing her appreciation for caitlyn here. caitlyn did something huge for her, she let her break a prisoner out which could have dire consequences for both of them.

i think vi just absolutely smothering cait is also a way to show that even though cait hurt her physically as well as emotionally, she's gone past that. if vi hadn't at least given some thought about cait's actions she would not let this happen, i don't think, unless she's super desperate. this proves that vi is starting to move on and cait is starting to revert back to that sputtering stuttering pinned-to-a-wall-flustered woman she was in season one- that's the woman vi fell in love with, after all... and that woman is battered and bruised and has plenty of sins to stone for. but that woman is not dead.

The Scene in the cell is both them being desperate and them showing their love for each other without words. caitlyn's hand lingers on vi's injury, maybe about to utter an apology, but vi cuts her off anyway. there's SO many little things here gaughehgjf.

and in the end of the show, when caitlyn looks into the hexgates in her family's archives, she looks because vi probably asked her to. vi wanted to be sure. she looked because she cares about vi. whether or not she'll tell vi about this is an interesting thought- i don't think she would. it would undermine jinx's sacrifice.

jinx walked away so she could move on. so piltover could move on. so zaun could move on. so vi could move on. and caitlyn telling vi that she's alive would ruin the steps they've taken towards healing.

i think vi's main problem was dedicating her life to her sister and nothing else. and caitlyn's was just her exploiting a broken system and mever recognizing her faults. vi starts to heal because now that her sister is truly gone to her, she can move away from the past and build her own future. and now that caitlyn's fully realized her mistakes she can take steps towards changing piltover for the better. GAHH i love complicated sapphics especially when there's sapphic joy after all the suffering....

this was all written in one sitting so apologies if it's messy, and i've sort of compiled some other ideas and theories i've seen in here too; but yeah, these are my thoughts on caitvi in season 2. i think they could've been fleshed out a bit more, but overall their relationship is legendary. i'll never stop loving them. caitvi supremacy people 💪

[lord-squiggletits]

*sighs deeply and turns to the microphone again*

I'm reminding IDW1 readers that the reason Optimus felt pain when first bonding with the Matrix has nothing to do with him being "unworthy" or the Matrix thinking he's "not a true leader" and has everything to do with the fact that when he bonded with it, he felt the collective emotion of every single Cybertronian in existence and the strongest emotion all of them were feeling was pain and suffering.

I'm further reminding IDW1 readers that the Matrix doesn't have any divine power or godliness at all and the ability to wield it is solely based on how much a person believes in their own worthiness to wield it, which is exactly how literal colonizer, mass murderer, and caste system creator Nova Prime was able to wield the Matrix back in his day.

Literally the entire climax of Lost Light by JRO is Rodimus doing a pep talk to get everyone on the ship hyped/confident enough to feel worthy to wield a bunch of Matrixes. The whole fucking point of that ending was to show that "worthiness" isn't something only to be bestowed on a single chosen hero but rather a sense of self-worth that anyone is capable of achieving with enough faith.

Can people please please please stop with these insinuations/misbeliefs that because OP felt pain upon bonding with the Matrix it's somehow a sign of his inherent sin/unworthiness/shittiness/narrative evilness and actually read the comics they're making assumptions about? I beg.

[wiltyard]

fall once more | tf: earthspark

masterlist ch: 01 [you are here] started on: 12/2022 chapter posted on: 11/25/2024 REMINDER: This is a reader-insert/oc-insert. Ero is YOU.

"Alright, until GHOST figures out what to do with our new...friend here..." Ero had already tuned out their conversation by then, zoning out as their gaze wandered to the trees across the clearing. They’ve heard of this conversation before. How nice of them to treat them so well after everything they’ve done.

Ero didn’t have a concrete vision of their future, not that they didn’t want one, just that they couldn’t. Every waking moment was either filled with pain, tests, check-ups, or whatever task Dr. Meridian had thrown them. They never had the privilege to hope, and dream.

Even if things were different if they did have the time—hard emphasis on if—whatever future they would have envisioned then would still be nothing compared to the life they have now.

Dr. Meridian is gone. That is something they haven’t processed properly yet, and it was something they wouldn’t even dare think of back then. He was a constant in their life, for the longest time, and for him to just disappear like that, it's hard to make peace with, even if he wasn’t exactly a source of comfort or happiness.

Maybe he abandoned them, who knows? They don’t want to think about it. Because then they’d have to acknowledge that the thought bothers them. Being abandoned, thrown away.

Could they call this place a home? Maybe not, they’ll get kicked out in a week or two, they’re not exactly hopeful about sticking around, nor do they want to stay here. Where they’d go afterward, they don’t know but they’ll make do.

One thing they missed from their past routine was having so much to do and little time to think. The more they think, the more they spiral, the more they doubt, and the more they feel confused. Maybe they'll ask later if they could have something to do. But again, not hopeful.

Dorothy eyed them from a distance, watching them closely. It didn’t go unnoticed, it’s hard not to when the feeling of holes being burned on the back of your head is difficult to ignore. They had to get used to the staring at some point, that too was difficult. If it’s not Dorothy, it’s the children, if it’s not the children, Alex, if not any of the humans or the Terrans, it’s one of the Autobots.

It's not that they don't understand why they're acting like this. Ero would do the same thing, at least they think so. But…they still hate the staring. 

Ero of course has to pretend they don’t notice it. It’d be more uncomfortable for them than they already are to turn and stare back at whoever was watching them. Think about it, to hold the gaze of someone who clearly isn’t fond of your company, and maybe they don’t all feel that way, but still.

Just imagining it was enough to discomfort them as they shifted their posture a little, crossing and uncrossing their arms, fiddling with the fabric of their clothes that were so generously donated to them, they can't help but feel bothered by the weight of it, whether it's the weight of the clothes or….the guilt of everything. That, they’re not sure of. And they’d rather not let it consume them.

Eventually, Dorothy turned her attention to the leader of the Autobots, asking a question in a voice too low for Ero to hear, but loud enough to catch snippets of whatever she said to Optimus. “....Optimus...sure...safe?...the kids.”

Ero tilted their head a little, not too much to make it obvious that they were looking, but enough to catch a glimpse of Dorothy nodding to the children. The human children and the Terrans that Ero should’ve been paying attention to in the first place. They realized a bit too late that the kids in question were approaching them, a group of four, four too many. And before Ero could even think of fleeing, the Malto children had already closed in much to their dismay, now throwing out more questions at Ero than they could answer.

One thing Ero had to learn the hard way was they were quite terrible at socializing with other humans, especially with kids. They even told Optimus this when he asked them what they were looking forward to experiencing on their way to the Malto family’s residence, completely ignoring the question at all because what is there to look forward to?

“I don’t know. Is there anything to look forward to?” They added after, asking in a monotone manner with their gaze unfocused. Optimus could remember that moment clearly because of the almost melancholic tone to their voice.

Back to the present, Optimus watched the entire scene unfold before him, and despite the looks and glances Ero shot at him, almost asking him to help them. He only gave them a look back, silently telling them that he had no intentions of interfering. This crushed whatever hope they had to be taken out of the situation, given the way their shoulders slumped in defeat.

No doubt he believed they needed this as “exposure therapy”, or something along those lines, they really don’t need it. But whatever makes him feel satisfied. They’ll just think of this as an order, a task given to complete, yes, that’s right. They’ll get through this, this is easy.

“I heard from Optimus you’re technically not human anymore! How does it feel? Do you eat human food? If you eat, does it still come out the other way一?”

They suppressed the urge to hit themselves. Knowing if they did, they might have to deal with another lecture about proper social etiquette. Whatever that means.

Optimus on the other hand, Optimus was sure they weren't a danger to the children. What he had observed while Ero was under his care was enough confirmation and reassurance for his thoughts about them. However, what he thought of Ero and what they were capable of was different from what the others thought of them. To the others, they were someone who had put their friends and family at risk, Dr. Meridian’s child.

Megatron had openly detested Ero, the potential danger they posed to the Malto family, and Dorothy's family, and endangering them was more than enough reason for him to dislike them even if that made him a hypocrite due to his history.

The Terrans? After risking their human siblings' lives? Let's say it'll take much longer for them to warm up, much less even trust Ero. This shows in the way they hovered closely next to Mo and Robby while throwing in their questions. Twitch and Thrash weren't exactly...fond of them either. Curious, sure, but trust Ero? Ha. No.

The blue and red mech sighs, taking a while before he finally nods to answer Dot’s question. The look on her face though was enough for him to understand she wasn't happy with just a nod. She wanted a verbal, direct, answer. An answer that for once the leader of the Autobots couldn't give.

Optimus wished their new friend at least tried to seem more…friendly, and easy to get along with, but he knew better than to hope. With their short time under his watch, he knew they’d have trouble integrating themselves back into society, while also giving the others a hard time, albeit unintentionally.

Still, he was already bracing himself for the numerous headaches he'll have to deal with in the near future, no doubt brought by Ero, maybe not directly because of them, but because of what the others had to say. Just the thought of what's to come was enough to tire him.

His eyes were now on the ground, then turned to look at Dorothy again. "Yes. It is safe, for now, you and your family are not alone nor will we let anything happen to you alone. I swear to you, Dorothy."

She still wasn't convinced, but... she decided to trust him on this. He has never intentionally put them in danger after all. Trouble just...finds them.

In truth, Optimus is still unsure of what compelled him to decide taking Ero under the Autobots', and of course the Maltoses' wings. Even if the rest of them believed Ero was far more trouble than they were worth. But, to leave them at the mercy of Earth's governments, someone who no doubt would catch many people's attention, the wrong people’s attention, he thought of it as too cruel.

Maybe it's because of how far the cruelty of human beings could go for the sake of progress, innovation, or even just at a shot of power or immortality, that they could be subjected to even more experiments. Knowing what they know about Ero, what they had endured while affiliated and being in Dr. Meridian's company, wasn't that enough punishment? Their mere existence, what they’ve been turned into, what they became, isn't it enough?

And if he were to even bring his thoughts up to them, he knew they wouldn't share the sentiment. Ero would try to appreciate it with what little understanding they have of these types of emotions, with emphasis on "try", but then immediately, almost comically, try to prove him wrong with their thoughts.

Maybe if they weren't so unused to human emotions, they would have initially scoffed at him, waving it off as they barked out an almost condescending laugh, perhaps garnering some narrowed and questionable stares from whoever was in earshot, hearing the conversation. While holding much respect for Optimus, they would have believed his opinions regarding them as stupid, or his sympathy misplaced.

He’s seen the way Ero reacted to pity, sympathy, and anything that involved consideration and concern for them, of the many things Ero could control, it’s their body language and expressions when faced with emotions foreign to them that they could not. It seemed that they did not like pity, at least directed at them.

When asked, all they could answer with was; “It’s unpleasant.”

Or...the way their eyes would look. So, downcast, full of...something. He knew it was strange somewhat, knowing Ero’s history, some of it at least, one could say it was alien to them.

He turns once he feels Megatron’s presence next to him, the bot in question crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the kids and Ero. Without turning, he starts; “If you're wrong about this Prime—”

“Yes, I know.” He doesn't let him finish, he doesn't need to. He knows Megatron’s uncertainty and distrust was from a place of concern. He was quiet, a beat passed, then two before he turned to Megatron. “...you should spend some time with Ero. Perhaps it could prove useful in your assessment of them.”

Megatron huffs at that idea, he wasn't happy with it. Ero is no little birdy. But he’s not turning him down immediately so there's a chance. “You’ll find you share more things in common with them than you think.”

Maybe it's the way Optimus’ voice lost its initial edge, the way it grew soft because Megatron found himself considering it. The things this bot could convince him to do, and he’d find a way to justify it just for Optimus. And it’s not like it’dhurt to try. “Fine.”

Optimus didn't say anything back, he didn't need to. The smile on his face was enough for Megatron to know he was pleased with that answer. He only rolled his optics at him as he walked off. He’ll monitor their little prisoner another day, not today. “I have a recon mission to get to, I’ll see you around Optimus.”

He transformed into his alt-mode, and with that, he was off as Optimus watched behind until he was out of sight. He sighs, then turns to check on Ero, finding them alone and giving him an apologetic look as they wave at him. Only then does he realize he has the children’s attention, seeing them make their way toward him.

“You had a tinier version of you in your trailer?!” Twitch exclaimed, exasperated, before pointing an accusatory finger at him. “AND YOU USED IT AS A SCOUT??? WHY DOES ERO KNOW ABOUT THIS BUT NOT US?”

Watching them throw so many questions at him, not even letting him have a word in, Ero almost felt bad. Still, they figured it was better to just get their attention elsewhere, to anyone, just not them. What better way than to bring up something Optimus told them?

It wasn’t anything sensitive, something interesting, and something most had no clue about the big guy. Something Optimus thought would help distract Ero when he somehow figured out that they were nervous. And to this day Ero has no clue how he found that out, they’re not gonna ask. The thought that someone just sees through them, “understood” them in a way… didn’t feel as nice as it should.

With that, they took this as their chance to slip away from the group, from the kids, and hid behind the other side of the barn. Once out of the others’ sight, they sat down and allowed themselves to finally relax.

Throwing their head back, they closed their eyes and audibly sighed. Taking in the sounds of nature—the rustling leaves, the cows, the birds—and, along with the distant voices, the kids’ numerous questions. Optimus was doing his best to answer all of them while attempting to calm Twitch’s momentary anger.

While confusing for Ero to witness, these people’s dynamics felt comfortable and warm, a stark contrast to the bitter cold they were used to. From heated glares to concerned gazes. Threats to soft-spoken encouragement. From dark, bleak, and cold rooms to the open and sunny outdoors.

Ero opens their eyes, staring at the sky that’s now tinted with pink as the sun sets in the distance. It was peaceful. They’re not used to it, admittedly.

“You’re as slippery as a quantum drift.” A voice suddenly spoke up behind them.

Ero immediately tensed once they heard his voice. Of course, it was Bumblebee. The ever-friendly yellow Autobot.They’ve met long before, but not in the best circumstances—the whole working for Dr. Meridian thing and everything else in between.

Once they saw that familiar yellow, they unconsciously relaxed just a tiny bit. They don’t know how to personally feel about him. Their past interactions with him weren’t all…that bad. Sure he was talkative, and said too much, but he tried to be friendly with them. Tried to talk instead of resorting to violence or trying to hurt them as most did.

Bumblebee tried reasoning with them. And, well, he was right to make that call.

They still have no clue how to feel about Bumblebee, or any of them to be honest. He was friendly, but too friendly that they wanted to lump him with every other well-meaning but ultimately shallow individual they’ve ever met in this lifetime. 

Still, something in Bumblebee’s tone made them pause. Something that reminded them of the strange, uncomfortable warmth they sometimes felt in their chest, when the sunlight hit the surface of their crystalline body just right. It felt too much like hope.

Despite the not-so-unpleasant experiences they had with him, it didn’t erase the unease Ero had about him (or anyone to be honest). They know better than most, the friendliest faces are often the most dangerous. Or maybe they’re just jumping to conclusions and he is just a friendly face. Still, they’d rather take their chances with assuming wrong about him than putting their already fragile sense of safety at risk. But what risk?

These people have been nothing but kind to them. Even when they don’t ever need to be. They had every right to treat them like they were nothing but the dirt beneath their feet, and yet, despite the cautiousness each of them had whenever interacting with Ero, they could sense even just the slightest concern in their voices.

“...I could say the same to you.” Ero’s tone was steady, they straightened their back, feeling the weight of their crystalline form shift ever so slightly. It wasn’t comfortable, this body they were forced to inhabit, but it was theirs. And as of now, no possible way of changing back.

They clearly weren’t happy with his intrusion. It was obvious he was there to check on them to see what they were doing, but he could’ve done it from a distance, no need to actually talk to them. What do they even have to say to him anyway? Nothing.

Bumblebee’s expression shifted a little, sensing they wouldn’t just let down their walls around him that easily, and he'd tried a bunch of times. If what he’s heard of them was correct, then, maybe they weren’t that bad. Just need to get through that tough exterior they built up.

“Well, what can I say, can’t be the best scout of the Autobots if I can’t slip in and out of places like that.” He grinned, leaning against the barn wall, and this time, Ero only gave him a side glance, before turning away again. His grin faltered a little. Tough crowd?

“You distracting the kids like that, getting their attention on Optimus instead so you’d be able to leave—pretty clever. You could be a pretty good scout, too, you know.” He tried again, his voice was a bit softer now, none of that banter he usually carried. The banter never worked anyway, Ero only ever reacted to the words, never the tone, never the nuances. They were always so careful.

And Ero, once again, barely reacted, their gaze hardened as they turned away again. That compliment landed somewhere between confusion and just plain discomfort. It’s not that Bumblebee was wrong, it’s just that his words didn’t reach them. Nothing could. At least for now. They’ve only been here a couple of days after all, and only today were they allowed to interact with the rest of the Malto family. He can’t blame them for being distant. But he’d hoped they’d at least…open up a little.

Before his run-ins with Ero, he’s heard rumors here and there about them, apparently from Decepticons who escaped Mandroid’s grasp. How they did it with a little help from someone inside, Dr. Estes Meridian heard of these rumors himself, but never once thought it would be his own child.

“...thanks.” They finally spoke up before going silent again. It’s a bit difficult to read Ero now that he thought about it. Outside of what they’re willing to talk about, their actions, they’re relatively…blank. If that makes any sense. As in, if there’s nothing that pushes them to do something, they don’t do anything, they don’t say anything. Speaks-when-spoken-to kinda deal but also in terms of actions, situations.

Bumblebee sighed internally, while he may not have achieved his goal of getting Ero to open up, them responding back was enough progress, right? Maybe tomorrow will be different. If not, then maybe the next day after that.

“Slippery as a quantum drift.” → “Slippery as a fox.”

Delivered as promised before the end of November. My phone got confiscated at my big age of 21 while I was in the middle of writing this the past few weeks. 🙂

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it. I literally have an unfinished published fanfic I haven’t touched since 2021 and let’s cross our fingers I don’t do the same with this one ong.

Also please point out any inconsistencies or typos!

[barblaz-arts]

Your drawing and creativity are growing every day. I really want to read or see more of your ideas. My first impression was of the Lapidot drawing you made. (I must say, because of you, I started shipping sapphic) //back in that time I don’t even know what AO3 is // I can’t see friendship between female characters and not shipping them! Also, your points of view and explanations are very interesting to read. I think it’s because you write with consideration and critical thinking, and you don’t jump to the steam of conclusions just because most people think that way. You listen to other people’s opinions, but you still stand your ground and explain your reasoning.(I really respect you in this)

Right…I suppose to ask you something.

Have you ever watched a short on YouTube about a bird name Prince aka pRiNcEtOpHeR from Tamia(@tamiaoveres) ?

I don’t know why but Prince reminds me of Vaggie some how (I’m certain because she is a bird too)

Hypothetically, if Lucifer showed pictures of a young Charlie to Vaggie and saw how happy it made her, he might realize it would be unfair to his daughter if only her girlfriend got to enjoy seeing younger versions of her. So, using magic, he could turn Vaggie into a child, allowing Charlie to be just as happy as Vaggie. However, he didn’t stop there—he had also transform Vaggie’s mind to match her younger self!

Vaggie is one of the more well-mannered adults in the show. While she has her issues, she’s still polite to those who earn her respect. I’m not sure how common it is, but many decent adults were once chaotic and main reason why their parents had grays hair when they were young , so I imagine Vaggie might fall into this category as well.(I want her to terrorize the hotel)

Oh whoa thank you! Such kind words 🥹🥹🥹🥹 Always amazed and grateful to know when someone's followed me since the literal beginning.

That hypothetical does sound interesting. I'd like to say it'd be cute if Vaggie agreed to it, but with how kookie Lucifer can get, i can see it happening kinda sorta on accident too. I could see Vaggie maybe being a pain in the ass because she's an angel surrounded by demons and forgets they're her friends. Like, her trying to kill them in this campy, loony toon way

[braingone]

Sure, let's go ahead and slap the myth of Tam Lin onto Ambrose too, while we're at it

[disco-wyrm]

Honestly, only @cipherbunz would know who any of these OCs are, but it looked fun to do :P if you wanna know more about them, feel free to ask, i will gladly wordvomit about them <3

tw: torture, physical & emotional ab*se, mental health issues and death.

1. I don't really have one in particular for this one? If I had to choose, it'd probably be Swan. She's a tough lady, but she's just not built for deserts and hot environments.

2. Nobu, the man doesn't really even notice most of them anyway. Could definitely see him with a couple injuries he hasn't even noticed/doesn't think they're that much of an issue. Downsides of a really good pain tolerance, I guess?

3. Maverick. Hands down, that poor bastard's been through so much lol. His fiancée gets killed by his own father, his clan is destroyed, he gets dragged into TWO wars, experimented on, and then isolates himself because he's afraid of entering cities for reasons he can't even remember. Oh, and Death won't let him die bc Fate told them to for the plot and didn't elaborate on why so he's stuck surviving all of it.

4. Onyx, by his own adopted brother at that. Arcus didn't really take Onyx's (percieved) abandonment of him very well. Both of them need therapy, yeesh...

5. Leo and his crew. They're my world-hopping pirates, and definitely not of their own choice. Leo has sworn to kill whatever fate or god has damned them to getting yoinked into different dimensions, so I should probably watch my back lol

6. Alexei. Man has a while doomed yaoi thing going on with his ex/bestie for the past millennia or so. I guess both being vampires from Shakespearean times in a cyberpunk future equals some kind of trauma bonding? They don't even realize they're still flirting, it's painful to watch, really.

7. Onyx, he's one of my oldest ocs and i love putting my lil guy in Situations.

8. Leo and his crew again, for obvious reasons

9. Aster, by a young water spirit. She healed him, and he helped care for her in return. She then taught him alchemy, something her species knows instinctively via generational memories. He's now one of the best alchemists in the region.

10. Onyx and Maverick. Both killed by family and revived for different reasons. Maverick was bc of the plot, while Onyx was revived bc his s/o made a deal with Death for him. Maverick is in denial about his immortality, while Onyx is completely unaware that he actually died.

11. Winter/Winniel. Poor guy's scared of being even slightly out of line due to the tyrant king of his homeland. And as the royal alchemist, he's pretty close to the king. The king has convinced him so much of his weakness that he doesn't dare consider rebellion, convinced that he stands no chance even though physically he could definitely take him in a fight.

12. Kipp has compartmentalized his trauma and stress from his work, putting on a cheery and almost innocent persona to put his loved ones (and himself) at ease. At this point, he's not really sure which "him" is the real him anymore.

13. Acheron, constantly. It's technically magic tears that leak out no matter what he tries, and occasionally they form into little blob crows. They are his babies and he loves them dearly.

14. I'll pick Juno for this one. He's stuck in a control spell by an evil sorceress, and she usually gets him to kill people she wants to get rid of, or sometimes even people he comes across. He hates the lack of choice, so often he makes the choice to attack them on his own. Not healthy at all, and he'd rather not, but it's the only way he knows to exert control over his life.

15. Usually "comfort after a nightmare" scenarios are my favorite. Once they're calm(er), it's usually a pretty sweet moment. Easily turns to fluff afterwards.

Torturing your ocs ask game :)

(Delightful, I know. But we all do it sometimes)

1. Which of your ocs do you most often imagine sick? In what ways?

2. Which of them do you most imagine injured in other ways?

3. Who do you put through the most emotional turmoil?

4. Which oc has been tortured? Through what means?

5. Which of them has the worst luck?

6. Who goes through the most relationship conflicts? (applies to any relationships)

7. Who do you put most into stressful situations or other drama?

8. Who ends up in survival situations the most? How do they fair in them?

9. Has any of them had to be saved from the brink of death? Were there any consequences after?

10. Has any of them had to be revived / brought back to life? How did this affect them?

11. Who is afraid the most? How does this effect them?

12. What kind of health repercussions has your oc experienced through intense stress? How do they manage them?

13. Who cries the most often? What are the usual causes?

14. How does your oc cope?

15. To cap off what kind of hurt/comfort scenarios do you put your oc in?

This can be about canon story events or simply rotating scenarios for fun!

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[lagosbratzdoll]

This is a very very unfinished thought but I've been thinking a lot as I reread the books about how the women of House of the Dragon don't really get catharsis and how that'll likely be worse in S2. Say what you want about asoiaf but a number of named women there experience catharsis.

They kill their abusers (Lysa, Cersei, Dany). They regain some agency after a violation (Lysa, Cersei, Lady Stoneheart, Dany), and they refuse to forgive the people complicit in their subjugation (Lysa, Cersei, Dany, Lady Stoneheart, Jeyne Westerling).

Obviously, three or four isn't enough in such an expansive cast of characters but the point remains that they claw back their autonomy however they have to. They're allowed to be angry, bitter, unforgiving and cruel to their abusers in a way women in House of the Dragon just aren't allowed. They're allowed grief, grief that is violent and destructive.

The women of House of the Dragon don't get angry. They stand around and stare plaintively at the camera, they cry prettily, and they plead for peace and non-violence. They suffer and suffer and suffer and there's no relief.

[rocicrew]

THE EXPANSE 6.04 REDOUBT

[aureatescars]

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

One thing Being Human does really well is show the different ugly ways trauma can manifest - anger, sadness, becoming convinced of things that aren't true - and how conflicting traumas can result in actively hostile relationships

[zincbotted]

i may deeply understand fiddlestan now but i forgot i've been fiddauthor since day 1