#hi I’ve always been interested in morbid topics I swear

[mellomadness]

I just fell down a rabbit hole about (legal) body disposal and part of me is so anxious wishing I could tell the FBI agent monitoring my internet searches that I’m just morbidly curious and I’m not planning on dying anytime soon (or planning anything ELSE, for that matter)

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (4)

Oh God, there’s another one.

The thought came unbidden to Toshinori’s mind, and it engulfed him in the closest thing to pure dread he had felt in years. It had taken two centuries, the sacrifice of seven One For All users, and two of his own major organs to take down a single All For One wielder, and now a brand new one had somehow sprouted right in front of him.

Now. Now that he had finally decided to tackle the hurdle of entrusting a relatively stable Japan to a successor, now that he was weaker and less capable than ever of defending it from a new threat. Now that the deadline of Nighteye’s prophecy was drawing closer and closer. His own gruesome death on the battlefield, and the sudden reappearance of All For One’s quirk. The unavoidable connection between the two facts almost robbed him of his breath.

Toshinori couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy’s hand. It looked diminutive in comparison to his own, and completely inoffensive. It had the soft, unblemished appearance that suited someone who had never hit anything bigger than a fly, whereas the hero’s skin had long since been roughened by calluses, and his joints slightly thwarted by the occasional fracture. Yet, that single, unassuming dimple in the middle of its palm made it more potentially destructive than a hundred of Smashes combined.

A sort of choked whimper made Toshinori finally raise his gaze. He realized he had stopped trying to school his expression only when he saw his own strung-out stupor mirrored in Midoriya’s features. 

“I-I… Sorry, I r-really have t-to…” The boy took a step back, his hand slipping from the man’s grasp, then he suddenly turned on his heels and motioned to sprint away.

“Hey, hey!” Toshinori reached forward, grabbing Midoriya’s wrist by sheer reflex. He had already wasted enough time and energy chasing slimy villains and rash teenagers all over the town that day, thank you very much. “Where are you going?”

Midoriya froze on the spot, as if shocked by an electric current. His arm was rigid in Toshinori’s grasp, pulling away from it but without any real conviction. His head turned slowly towards the hero but not fully, letting him see only half of the boy’s face. The unmistakable terror etched in those wide eyes made something constrict in Toshinori’s chest.

“I-I’m… I’m so sorry…” The boy’s voice was down a trembling, barely audible whisper.“I didn’t mean to d-do that… I’ve never… I won’t do it again, I swear, j-just…” 

Midoriya’s free hand hovered over the hero’s, maybe having half a mind of prying it open, but he didn’t even dare to touch it. Toshinori let go of him immediately. The kid wasn’t expecting it, judging by his flabbergasted expression, and all he did with his regained freedom was backing away from him with a couple of uncertain steps, bumping into a nearby electric pole with his backpack and just standing there, pretty much like a cornered mouse cowering before a lion.

The sight jolted Toshinori back to reality with brutal efficiency. God, what was wrong with him today? He was handling this abysmally. That was no two-hundred-year-old manipulative slaughterer, that was a child. A child rapidly working himself into a panic, if his onsetting tremors were of any indication. Ironically, the realization grounded Toshinori even more. Frightened victims and distraught relatives were a daily occurrence in his line of work, and his professional composure slipped back in place almost subconsciously.

“You don’t need to apologize. Quite the opposite. You saved everyone. The hostage, the bystanders… even me. I’m not sure I’d have had the energy to keep up appearances after another smash.” He put up his hands and showed his palms with slow movements, keeping his voice low and level. “You did nothing wrong back there.”

Midoriya slowly slumped down the pole, his limbs huddled in a distressed heap. He blinked quickly as his eyes shied away from Toshinori’s, hands bunching up the fabric of his trousers nervously. “...I-I can give it back. The quirk. I want to give it back to its owner.”

“That can be easily arranged.” Something about the whole situation was nagging at Toshinori, but he pushed that feeling aside for the moment. The boy wasn’t holding himself in any way that hinted at specific injuries, but fear could be one hell of an anesthetic. He gazed up and down the road, finding it completely deserted. He still felt slightly abuzz with the adrenaline rush caused by his second encounter with the sludge villain and the recent revelation of Midoriya’s quirk. He gauged that he could probably (possibly, maybe, hopefully) abuse One For All for another twenty seconds or so if need be, just the time to scoop up the boy in his arms and power run back to the ambulances at the site of the accident. That was likely to cause even more distress to the poor kid though, so he’d rather hold off on it unless clearly necessary. “Are you sure you aren’t in any pain?”

“I-I’m f-fine.” The boy wiggled the backpack off his shoulders and rummaged through it shakily, a few tears rolling down his cheeks and his hiccups becoming harder to contain. “I’m fine…”

“Hey, kid. Look at me. Deep breaths.” Toshinori finally ventured a step and a half towards Midoriya, squatting at a reasonable distance to his side instead of right in front of him, to make sure he wouldn’t feel too crowded. Toshinori offered him a couple of tissues (always plentiful in his pockets) while the boy tried to regain a semblance of calm. “It’s all right. I am here.”

That got the boy’s attention. The catchphrase had slipped out of him automatically, without his trademark panache or blinding smile or overflowing optimism, but Midoriya looked at him like he’d been thrown a lifeline nonetheless. The dam broke and big, shiny tears erupted from his eyes as he accepted the tissues and buried his sobs in them. They remained like that for a while, the kid quietly working through his sniffles while Toshinori sat cross-legged on the dusty asphalt, reminding him to take his time whenever he got a little fidgety.

“Sorry if I spooked you.“ Toshinori eventually offered with a small smile, after Midoriya had finally settled down. “I’m a little out of it myself, today. Not the most auspicious first day in my new neighborhood, but what can you do?”

“Uh? Do you mean you’re moving here?” Midoriya asked while he accepted the fourth tissue and wiped away the remaining dampness from his face.

“Mh-hm.” After the debacle on the rooftop, this didn’t feel like too much of a sensitive bit of information to share. Besides, the kid was a fan, so maybe throwing him a bone would help him relax a little more.

“Why? Isn’t it inconvenient for you? I thought you lived in a penthouse above Might Tower, in Tokyo’s Minato Ward, Roppongi 6-12-”

...Ah, he was that kind of fan. Obviously. “Indeed, but I’ve decided to move to… broaden my professional horizons, so to speak.”

“Oh! Are you planning to open a branch of your agency here? Or are you joining some local long-term operation?“ That spark of morbid curiosity in the boy’s eyes made Toshinori regret bringing up the topic in two seconds flat.

“I’m afraid that’s all I can say on the matter, everything’s still under tight wraps. You’ll hear all about it from the news, eventually.” He stood up and patted some dirt off his hands and pants. “Do you live far from here? I’ll walk you home if you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, uh…” The boy gaped at him in surprise. “Thank you, but there’s no need for you to go out of your way! I’m fine, really!”

“Think nothing of it.” Toshinori hooked three fingers under the strap of the boy’s backpack and hauled it over his own shoulder. It hit his back with unexpected oomph. What did kids even put in those things, weren’t textbooks all digital these days? “Clearly this isn’t your lucky day either. I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you reached your house safely without being run over by a truck or abducted by aliens.”

The joke got a half-smile out of Midoriya, at long last. He held out his hand to the boy to help him back on his feet. The obvious hesitation and near disbelief he couldn’t hide before gingerly accepting the proffered hand gave Toshinori another small wave of unease. There was definitely something strange about all this, aside from the obvious. He gestured for the kid to lead the way, and they set off towards their new destination.

Toshinori granted him a few minutes of silence before breaching the pivotal subject. “So… you have quite the interesting quirk.”

“...Mh.” Midoriya visibly stiffened. So it had been the quirk talk to give him cold feet, rather than a generic reaction to the day’s stress...

“Why didn’t you use it against the villain the first time he attacked you?” Toshinori asked, opting for a more roundabout approach.

“Ah… I’m sorry. I really should have. You wouldn’t have had to waste your power if I’d-”

“Forget about me! Why didn’t you use it to defend yourself? Did you panic?”

“Uh, well, not too much.” The kid shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his gaze to the ground, his voice lowering to a droning mutter. “I can take quirks, but I don’t automatically learn how to use them. The villain’s quirk looked like it may be difficult to handle. What if I couldn’t maintain a solid form and just turned myself into a puddle of goo? What if some parts of my slime got detached from the main body during the scuffle, and I found myself missing chunks of flesh upon turning back human? What if the sludge was only an outer layer over my body, and without fine control I ended up drowning in it? Stuff like that… I should have just taken the villain’s quirk without activating it, but I was afraid that he’d get even angrier and he’d just beat me up anyway. I’m not, uh, strong. Or fast. At all. I didn’t consider that he might freak out long enough for me to run away…”

Toshinori blinked. “...Sorry, how long had that guy been harassing you before I showed up?”

“Oh, not long at all. Twenty or thirty seconds, I think.”

“And you went through all of that in twenty seconds. While being ambushed and choked.”

Midoriya just shrugged.

“That is… some quick thinking, all right.” Toshinori commented. He omitted the fact that it was a brand of quick thinking that was more likely to get you killed rather than saving your skin during an emergency. Apparently Midoriya would hesitate to protect himself from a violent attacker, but he’d run for the hills the moment the Symbol of Peace gave him a bit of an odd look. The kid’s fight-or-flight response was all over the place.

“I would have used my quirk to fight back eventually, if you hadn’t arrived so soon… probably…”

“...But?” Toshinori encouraged, sensing the unspoken addition.

“But… not many people know about my quirk. Very few, actually. And I’d like to keep it that way. If it’s possible.”

“Why?”

“...It’s not a good quirk.” Midoriya frowned, hunching his shoulders a bit. “One could do really bad things with it.”

“I could squash a man’s skull with my thumb and level a city block with a punch.” Toshinori countered plainly. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

“It’s… it’s different. You can choose to use your quirk only for good, but mine requires…” The boy trailed off, then hazarded a glance at the hero. “You know what I mean. You understood as soon as I told you, I saw it.”

Toshinori couldn’t argue on that point, unfortunately. Still… 

There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for Midoriya to wield All For One. For one, it could be a different quirk altogether, one that simply mimicked Toshinori’s nemesis’, but that wasn’t quite the same, maybe with some unmentioned limitations (although the palm marks made for quite the uncanny similarity). Moreover, much like look-alikes, duplicate quirks between unrelated people weren’t unheard of, although said quirks were usually quite simple ones, like basic physical enhancers or elemental emitters.

What really bothered Toshinori were the boy’s evident sense of guilt and fear of exposure. Virtually any moderately powerful quirk could be employed to ‘do really bad things’, but hardly any children grew up to be so blatantly scared and ashamed of their own abilities. Family and school usually nurtured a degree of confidence and trust in their own capabilities. Toshinori’s knee-jerk reaction was a byproduct of specific knowledge and experience, but Midoriya’s? If only few people knew about his quirk, it must mean he hadn’t used it much, if at all, in the past, ruling out peer pressure as well. What explanation, what innocent explanation could there be for such a strong negative bias, aside from knowledge and experience he wasn’t supposed to have?

“At least your parents know about your quirk, I hope?”

“My mother doesn’t. My father… isn’t really around.” Toshinori couldn’t decide if that last bit of information was a good or a bad sign.

“So… who did you tell?”

“Just one friend and my father.” Ah, we had one likely culprit then. A father that was around but not really. Suspicious. “And now you, I guess. And… everyone who saw what I did to that villain… including the police…” Midoriya looked just about ready to dig a ditch and roll in it. 

“Well, as I said, everyone seemed to think I took care of the matter, so-”

Midoriya shook his head, utterly demoralized. “Kacchan will tell them.”

“Kacchan?”

“Ah, the hostage. He’s my friend, the one who knows about my quirk. I don’t think he’ll lie to the police for my sake.”

“Ah, I see. I hadn’t realized you two were acquainted.” Toshinori offered him a supportive smile. “I guess that explains your burst of heroism.”

“...No one else was doing anything. I saw you among the crowd, but… I thought you couldn’t help.”

The boy had an almost tortured expression, which reignited the deep-seated guilt that had plagued Toshinori in those harrowing minutes. “...I thought I couldn’t help either.” 

“But you did jump in though. Even though… it hurts you?” Midoriya scanned him from head to toe in concern, as if looking for unnoticed signs of damage. “Why?”

“Why did you decide to intervene, despite your fear?”

“I… I just couldn’t let my friend suffer because I messed up.”

“Well, there you have it.” Toshinori simply said. The boy stared at him thoughtfully, apparently weighing his words carefully, before nodding slowly and resuming his perusal of the ground. Toshinori let the silence stretch for a minute. There was still plenty he wanted to ask, especially regarding Midoriya’s father, but-

“I really do want to give the quirk back.” The kid mumbled. “Should I just… go to the police and ask them? They’ll come looking for me anyway, I guess, but…”

Toshinori pondered the issue for a moment, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The least he could do was make this whole ordeal as smooth as possible for the kid. “I think I can help with that. Give me your number. I’ll text you to let you know when we can visit the villain. If we’re lucky, it may be as early as tomorrow.” 

Toshinori registered the boy’s contact information as they entered a quaint residential area with neat little rows of numbered buildings, pleasantly tinged with the warm hues of the sunset.

“Ah, that’s where I live.” Midoriya said afterwards, pointing at a nearby apartment complex. “Thank you for everything, All-”

Toshinori shushed him with a sharp gesture as he gazed around the street nervously. “Please, don’t call me that when I’m in this form.”

Midoriya froze, then bowed respectfully. “R-Right! Thank you, sir! I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, and taking so much of your time, and-”

Toshinori waved the upcoming barrage of apologies off and bid him a good evening, waiting for the boy to leave. Which he didn’t do.

“Uhm.” Midoriya pointed at Toshinori’s shoulder with an awkward smile. “I need that…”

Oh, right, backpack. “Whoops, there you go.” He tossed Midoriya’s belongings to their owner and watched the kid bustle up the stairs of the building and into one of the apartments. Then he fetched his phone and picked the third number on speed-dial.

“Tsukauchi? Do you have a moment? ….Ah, fine, thank you. Listen, can I drop by your place this evening? Something’s come up and I’d rather not discuss it on the phone… No, but definitely worth looking into sooner rather than later…”

He hung up a couple of exchanges later, after agreeing on the time for the meeting. Toshinori decided he had enough time to make his way back home, shower and have some sort of passable dinner before ruining his friend’s evening. And then he would head back home and he would sleep, even if he had to repeatedly bash his head against a wall to achieve that. He inhaled deeply and let out a long-overdue, exhausted sigh. 

What a day. 

Hopefully tomorrow wouldn’t be quite as taxing.

“THIEF”

Izuku was stuck on the spot, his feet and ankles wrapped in a thick layer of sludge that stretched on the ground as far as the eye could see. The faint light filtering from both ends of the underpass gave it flickering, changing hues, now green like bile, now brown like vomit, now black like tar. It smelled like sewer and dirty toilets. 

“BASTARD”

The slime clung to the walls of the underpass, climbing on them as if endowed with its own will. It crawled up higher and higher, and then went on to expand onto the ceiling. Its surface boiled and squirmed producing disgusting squelching sounds. Izuku looked away from the revolting goo-coated structure he was boxed in, he looked towards the exit, hoping that something, someone would show up to drag him out of that hell.

“GIVE IT BACK”

Someone emerged from the sludge, a few meters ahead of him. A man. A flabby, hairless, mucky man, with haunted eyes and a mouth open in a silent scream. He sweated slime, cried slime, drooled slime, from every orifice and every pore of his body. He waded towards Izuku slowly, an arm extended before him as if to grab him. Izuku couldn’t stand that sight either. He aimed his gaze at the ceiling, right when a huge bubble of gunk popped right above him, and chunky dollops of filth splashed on his face, into his nose and mouth.

“OR I’LL RIP IT OUT OF YOU”

Izuku coughed and heaved, trying to expel the repulsive substance from his pipes, but two cold, slick hands clamped around his throat, trapping it in his body. He could feel the ooze drip down into his lungs, his stomach- he could feel it wiggle and push, like a living parasite trying to break free from the flesh constraining it. Izuku scrambled to tear the man’s hands off him, but those too melted under his fingers like the same fluid that was everywhere, closing down on him, choking him, pulling him apart from the inside-

 Izuku woke up with a whole-body lurch that nearly sent him rolling off the bed, sweaty and breathless. He took in the familiar shadows of his room, and the red numbers of his alarm clock floating in the darkness at his eye level. 

6:20 AM.

Izuku turned on his belly with a frustrated groan, sinking his face into the pillow. Sure, he’d had a pretty harrowing day yesterday. It was bound to leave him a little shaken and maybe disturb his sleep for a while. But seven nightmares in the span of as many hours seemed slightly excessive. Especially seven instances of the exact same nightmare, sentient goo and Munch-like villain and all. The boy fumbled blindly for his phone to check if he’d received any new messages in the last fifty-five minutes. He hadn’t, of course. He prayed that All Might would contact him soon, it didn’t take a degree in psychology to guess the nature of the ‘unfinished business’ his subconscious was so keen on grilling him about.

He stared at the screen blankly, wondering, for roughly the hundredth time, if he should call his father. On one hand, he very probably should. If the man had deemed that little scuffle with Kacchan emergency-worthy, surely a mess this humongous in size warranted a call as well. On the other hand… Izuku didn’t really want to. 

The previous night’s news broadcast had covered the sludge villain incident rather haphazardly, it being a relatively contained accident with no serious consequences or injuries. Izuku was sure they had bothered to touch on the fact in the first place just because All Might had been involved, and the number one hero would receive prime time coverage even for something as trivial as being spotted buying soda at a convenience store. Curiously, Izuku hadn’t been mentioned at all, not even indirectly. Kacchan had been named and shown as the victim, the other heroes had been acknowledged, but All Might had been appointed as the sole person responsible for the resolution of the mishap. Not a word about any irresponsible middle schoolers joining the fray.

Izuku had taken it as a promising sign. All Might had likely interceded for him with the police and obtained a modicum of discretion about his involvement, at least in regards to the media. The hero had been so very understanding the previous day - just thinking about it made the boy almost tear up anew. He had barely reacted to the shocking revelation of his quirk, he had tolerated his unseemly outburst, he had spoken to him as if… as if Izuku was just another innocent victim caught up in a bad situation, rather than a potential menace. He hadn’t hesitated even for a second to offer him his hand, despite knowing the threat that Izuku’s own hands posed. He had… he had made him feel safe, and trusted. He had allowed Izuku to hope that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be fixed, that Izuku could handle it with his help, even without subjecting his father to undue sniveling.

And, objectively speaking, what could Izuku’s father do at this point? Izuku doubted that, regardless of his governmental position, the man could prevent the truth from spreading once it had reached both the police and the number one hero. Izuku could make an educated guess about his reaction too, and it wasn’t all that encouraging. It was too late for stern recommendations about secrecy, or for disappointed sighs and gratuitous snark about Izuku’s blind faith in All Might’s mediation skills. And, to be perfectly honest, Izuku dreaded the possibility of finally and completely alienating the sympathy of the one person that had supported and advised him for his whole life, in his own peculiar way. Yes, it was childish of him. Yes, he would have to tell his father anyway, eventually. But he’d rather do it after the matter had been settled, hopefully for the best, and after he’d had a little more time to gather his thoughts and figure out how to word it a little less unfavorably for himself. So, there. It was the 28th of April too, he could wait another day or two, at least. No biggie.

By breakfast time, Izuku had reviewed the issue three more times, had another nightmare, and accepted the fact that this was going to be a long day. 

School went by in that typical hazy fashion that was the result of intellectual activities synergizing poorly with a sleep-deprived brain. Izuku kept eyeing Kacchan warily throughout the first three classes, harboring the half-baked notion of addressing yesterday’s events. He regretted doing it the very moment he opened his mouth to greet him during recess.

“What?” Kacchan growled without sparing him a single glance.

“Uh, ah, I…” How are you was one possible conversation starter. A bad one, for sure. Worrying about Kacchan’s well-being implied that he may not be okay, which implied weakness, which invited aggression as a counter-argument. Did you tell anyone else about what I did yesterday was downright rude, as if Izuku’s quirk was more important than his friend being almost murdered. In fact, any reference to the villain incident was a minefield. Braver classmates than Izuku had already made their inquiries during homeroom, and Kacchan hadn’t taken kindly to their snooping. This really was a bad-

“WHAT?” Kacchan barked, turning sharply towards Izuku and banging his fist on his desk for emphasis.

“Uh, nothing! Just saying hello! Hi! Bye!” Izuku fled the classroom without looking back before Kacchan decided to force-feed him his own shoes.

The first bit of good news of the day reached him during lunch, under the guise of a text.

Hey kid! We can drop by the police station this afternoon at 5 if you’re free

Izuku brought up the virtual keyboard to reply, but he stopped with his finger poised over the screen. He blinked at the unlabeled string of digits identifying the sender.

He had All Might’s phone number. One of many, probably. Definitely one of the lowest priority lines. Or maybe just some sort of burner phone for communications with civilians only. Still. He had All Might’s phone number. All Might was texting him. The realization made him half-choke on his rice.

Should he save it? Would that be a breach of confidentiality? Even if he used a not-too-obvious handle? N1? SP? AM? Ante Meridiem? ...That would just make it more suspicious, wouldn’t it? He’d just… commit it to memory for now. In case he ever needed it again. For purely altruistic reasons.

Sure, I’m free! Thank you very much for the help!

Izuku’s phone chimed again a couple of minutes later.

We’ll come pick you up at your place

That ‘we’ raised a small wave of anxiety in Izuku, but he willed himself to suppress it. He couldn’t expect All Might to shield him from any and all interactions with the force. It’d be fine. He could handle this.

The perspective of visiting the villain revived Izuku’s attention for the remaining lessons, only for him to crash back into fidgety inactivity as soon as he got home and found himself without anything to do for almost two hours before the agreed time. Homework was out of the question, he was too distracted. He figured a nap would be the most inoffensive way to while away the time while also recovering some higher brain functions. And so it was only with a mild heart attack that Izuku was roused by the ringing of the doorbell at 4.50 PM.

“Young Midoriya! Good afternoon!” Even at a glance, Izuku could tell that All Might was in better shape than the previous day. He stood a bit straighter, his smile was a bit wider, his hair was slightly less chaotic. He was also wearing slacks and a button up shirt that, while still dramatically oversized, made him look a bit less like a phthisic hospital runaway. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes! Thank you so much for going out of your way to take care of me!” Izuku declared with a rigid bow to All Might and to the other man standing by his side - definitely a detective, judging by his stereotypical trench coat.

All Might patted the man on the back with an even bigger grin. “This is Naomasa Tsukauchi, my favorite detective on the force! You may speak freely before him, you won’t find anyone more trustworthy in the whole of Japan!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Midoriya.” Tsukauchi politely removed his hat and shook the boy’s hand with an amused smirk, a sign that he was probably familiar with the hero’s odd choice of an introduction. He then peeked behind Izuku’s shoulders towards the inside of the house. “Isn’t your mother going to join us?”

“Ah no, she had a doctor’s appointment booked for today. It’s fine though, I’ll just send her a text to let her know where I’m going.” Izuku had warned his mother that he may have to visit the precinct soon. He had had to justify his singed and grimy school uniform the day before, so he had told her that he’d been marginally involved in the sludge villain incident, and the police was likely to want to collect his statement on the matter. It was only by pure chance that the news broadcast hadn’t outed his abridgment of the facts.

“Ah… We were hoping to have a few words with her too, actually.” Tsukauchi glanced at All Might, whose eyes darted briefly between the detective and the boy.

“I… may have forgotten to mention that.” All Might scratched the back of his neck with an apologetic grimace. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped. We’ll catch up with her another time, if necessary.”

Izuku had the sneaking suspicion that being All Might’s favorite detective came at a price. Tsukauchi just sighed, before regarding him with a gentle smile. “Well, if you are sure you don’t mind coming with us all by yourself…”

“I don’t mind at all!” Izuku hurried to reassure them. 

A minute later he was in the backseat of Tsukauchi’s speeding car, typing a message to his mother and struggling to suppress a monstrous yawn, courtesy of his interrupted nap.

“Tired?” All Might asked, intercepting his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“A bit. I didn't sleep well last night.”

“Ah, I know that feeling.” The hero’s expression mellowed in sympathy. “I’m sure you’ll rest more easily once this is over and done with.”

“I hope so.” Izuku pocketed his phone and gazed at the moving buildings out of the car window, mostly just to break eye contact. Somehow All Might’s open kindness felt undeserved, especially for something as trivial as a bunch of spooky dreams. He focused on more urgent matters. “So, uh… how are we going to do this? Does the villain know I’m coming, will I explain things to him? Will you, uh, keep an eye on things from outside or accompany me...?”

“Well, we were thinking of throwing you into his cell, locking the door and letting the two of you fight for dominance and ownership over the quirk- “ All Might grinned widely in response to Izuku’s exasperated gape.

“Yagi!” The detective reprimanded him, only mildly scandalized. The name bounced a few times around Izuku’s brain, plain and mystifying at the same time.

“Sorry, just trying to lift his spirits.” 

“You have nothing to worry about, it’ll be perfectly safe.” Tsukauchi provided, clearly having a much better understanding of the state of Izuku’s spirits despite knowing him for a scant ten minutes. “The villain will be in his cell and we will escort you inside, of course. You won’t really interact with each other, as he’ll likely be deeply asleep.”

“Asleep?”

“Yes. The apparent loss of his quirk has upset him greatly. He’s barely spoken since we took him into custody, and he’s spent the whole night in severe emotional distress. We would have transferred him to a hospital this morning if you hadn’t agreed to help so promptly. As things stood, we simply had a doctor prescribe him a strong sedative. Hopefully he’ll settle down spontaneously after you return his quirk.”

The man’s words weighed on Izuku’s heart like a ton of bricks. Damn, that was… horrible. He’d been holding onto someone else’s quirk for barely a day, and it had already caused that much sorrow. That wasn’t how Izuku’s power was supposed to be used. It would never be, as far as he was concerned.

“I’m sure he will.” All Might commented, all traces of humour vanished from his demeanor. “Don’t worry, kid. It’ll be a matter of a minute.”

Izuku nodded, and didn’t speak again for the rest of the trip. When they reached their destination, he let All Might guide him towards the detention area of the complex while Tsukauchi wandered off somewhere else, probably taking care of the bureaucratic side of things. He reappeared relatively soon, and they entered one of the cells all together.

The cell was small and mostly barren, furnished with only the most essential goods and surfaces for a relatively short stay. Idly, Izuku wondered what systems they had in place to prevent a… slippery criminal such as the current occupant from escaping from toilets or sinks. Surely they were prepared to- he realized he was spacing out. He should just get on with it.

The villain was indeed sleeping, huddled in a small foldable bedding on the floor. Izuku had barely caught a glimpse of the man’s human form the previous day, yet he was identical to how he’d envisioned him in his dreams. His subconscious was just that observant, apparently. It suddenly occurred to Izuku that he hadn’t even asked for the man’s name yet. The news broadcast hadn’t reported- he was procrastinating again. Just do it, Izuku.

The boy glanced questioningly at the detective, who made a small gesture to indicate that he was free to proceed. He approached his assailant and crouched beside him. The villain’s hand was sticking out from under the blanket, next to his head. Izuku rested his palm against the back of it, and simply willed the quirk out. 

Just like that, it was done. Izuku stood up and stepped back as the man’s body swiftly changed its texture and color, morphing and rearranging itself until a vaguely man-shaped, green heap of goo had replaced the slumbering human. The villain remained dead to the world throughout the entire process.

“...I’m done.” Izuku whispered, quite redundantly. He peered back at the two men at the opposite side of the room, and he didn’t miss the quick, sharp side-glance they’d just quietly exchanged.

“Thank you very much for your cooperation.” Tsukauchi said with the utmost honesty once they were again in the hallway. “While you’re here, would you mind if I collected your statement about the incident? It won’t take long, we already have a clear picture of the situation thanks to All Might.”

“Uh… Okay.” Izuku had hoped, rather optimistically, to skip that part, but he had no reasonable excuse to refuse. Tsukauchi led them to an empty room a couple of corridors further ahead, and held the door open for them. All Might lingered on the threshold.

“May I sit in?” His question was aimed at Izuku for some reason, rather than at his friend. 

“Of course!” Izuku confirmed, when both adults just stared at him in silence, clearly waiting for his permission. The hero thanked him with a small nod and an equally small smile.

They all sat around the desk in the middle of the room, Tsukauchi on one side, and Izuku and All Might on the other. It struck Izuku as a little strange, automatically expecting the two upholders of the law to face him side by side. He wondered if it may be a setup for some sort of good-cop-bad-cop routine. Not that either of them seemed especially suited to the latter role. Tsukauchi was very much the embodiment of professionalism, and All Might… All Might looked especially non-threatening in that moment, almost meek. He was sitting very tidily, big hands folded in his lap and long legs pressed against each other, occupying a remarkably small space considering the size of his frame. It made Izuku straighten his back and sit more neatly by reflex.

The questioning did proceed very smoothly at first. Tsukauchi let Izuku narrate his version of the events without interrupting at all, just humming and jotting down a few lines in his notepad now and then. All Might was just as unobtrusive, volunteering a sentence or two when Izuku happened to stumble on his words, or when he openly allowed him to recount the little scene on the rooftop, since the detective was already in on the big secret. Smooth sailing all round, until the point when Izuku had to bring up his quirk.

“On the subject of your quirk… when did it first manifest, exactly?” Tsukauchi asked.

“A little less than two years ago.”

“Ah, you’re quite the late bloomer! And you’ve only shared that fact with your friend Bakugo and your father, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And your father is one... Hisashi Midoriya, right?” Tsukauchi fished out a sheet of paper from the folder he’d retrieved before beginning the interrogation. He slid it across the table so that the boy could read it.

“Yes.” Izuku blinked, an undefined sense of unease gripping him all of a sudden. “...Why did you bother printing his personal details?”

“You’ve been filed as quirkless in the national registry after a routine medical examination when you were four years old. Your registration hasn��t been updated since then, as far as I could ascertain.” Tsukauchi explained calmly.

“Y-Yeah. I know.”

“...That is a punishable offense, I’m afraid. An accurate quirk registration is mandatory for all citizens.” Tsukauchi’s expression softened when Izuku utterly failed to hide his dismay. “This has no consequence on you, as minors aren’t expected to take care of these things by themselves, especially since quirk recording is often carried out when they’re extremely young. Your mother bears no blame either if, as you say, she’s as clueless about it as the rest of the world. But if your father knew and neglected to sort out the necessary paperwork for so long-”

“Oh.” Oh. Oh crap. Izuku had never thought of that. Why on earth had he never thought of that? Why, in almost two years, had he never considered the legal implications of all that secrecy? Why hadn’t his father? “Are you going to press charges against him?”

“Not yet. We’re at least going to get in touch with him and hear him out before taking any further steps.” The detective gave him a genuinely reassuring smile. “But even if we did, there is no cause for concern. These bureaucratic hitches are usually settled with a small fine.”

“I-I see.” Izuku gulped. He wasn’t going to wait until May. He was going to call his father as soon as he was alone. This probably wasn’t going to snowball into a lengthy legal conundrum, but still…

“What’s his occupation? I’m reading ‘administrative assistant’ here, which is a bit generic…”

“I don’t know much about that. He works for the government, I think, and he always says that all his activities are classified, so I try not to pry... Too much…”

“That is very judicious of you. I wish you could teach some of that tact to my sister…” Tsukauchi sighed, only half-jokingly. All Might let out a low chuckle at that. “Does your father know that you’ve been so reserved about your quirk so far?”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t find it odd in the slightest?”

“...No.” 

“Why do you think that is?” Izuku was suddenly very aware of both adults observing him quite intently. He really didn’t want to make things look any worse for his father. He could… slightly reframe the truth, maybe.

“I, uhm… Mine is a bit of a unique quirk. Difficult to use without, uh, stepping on other people’s toes. And I’ve been quirkless for most of my life, and… it’s no mystery that I envied other kids a lot because of that. I was worried that my schoolmates could be wary of me if they knew that I could… act on that envy now.”

Tsukauchi hummed, twirling his pen slowly between his fingers. “I can understand your concern. But quirk counselling is specifically designed to help children cope with such issues, and you’ve been missing out on it because of this extreme discretion. Your father should have realized he was doing you more harm than good by letting these fears fester in your mind.”

Izuku dropped his gaze on his father’s profile sheet. Detective Tsukauchi had a point, but… the matter was more complicated than that, as well as intricately intertwined with his father’s job and the troubled history of their quirk, and… Izuku didn’t want to delve into any of that at the moment. 

“We’ll definitely schedule some counselling sessions for you in the future, I’m sure you’ll find them beneficial.” Tsukauchi hesitated. “...Did something catch your attention?”

Something did, in fact. Izuku was idly skimming through the content of his father’s profile, and a couple of details were giving him pause. The first was, unsurprisingly, his father’s listed quirk. Fire Breathing.

...nor do I have it printed in bold letters in my personal documents…

Yeah, Izuku wasn’t going to bring that up. The other thing, a little more surprisingly, was his photo.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just… I haven’t seen any photos of my father in a long time.”

“You haven’t seen ‘any photos’ of him?” Tsukauchi cocked his head curiously.

“Yeah… I’ve never met him in person, he travels a lot because of his job and he never has enough time to stop by. I only know what he looks like because of an old photo my mother showed me. I haven’t seen it in years too, so…”

“Only a single photo, uh? And this picture here doesn’t strike you as familiar?”

Izuku observed it more closely... No, he was surely mistaken. “No no, there’s… there’s definitely a resemblance. Mine was a very old photo, taken before I was born. And it wasn’t even a photo of him specifically, he just happened to be in it, at an odd angle and in the middle of a crowd… I’m sure this one is more accurate.”

“Are you still in possession of that photo, by any chance?” All Might chimed in unexpectedly, his bright eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes, I think so… Hang on, let me check.” Izuku fetched his phone, opened the internet browser… Crap, it really had been a long time since he’d looked at the thing. Back then, he’d saved the file his mother had passed him on a free online storage site that… hopefully still existed? He hadn’t used it in at least four years. Was his account still active? Could he even retrieve the credentials with his current email address? “Uh… Actually, I don’t think I can get it right away. But I printed a copy of it once, it should be at home… somewhere…” Stashed in one of those boxes of old notebooks and magazines on top of his wardrobe, right? Or had it been thrown away when they had moved to their current apartment…? He fiddled with his phone with growing discomfort, acutely aware of the utter unhelpfulness of his babbling.

“We’d certainly be grateful if you could retrieve that photo for us, when you have a minute.” All Might finally conceded, taking pity on Izuku's floundering.

“Sure! I’ll try to find it as soon as I get home.”

“Much obliged.” Tsukauchi flipped quickly through his folder. Izuku was about to ask why the mention of that photo had sparked their interest so much, when Tsukauchi put Hisashi's file back into the folder and closed it with a snap. “Well, I think we’ve covered everything. Again, you’ve been immensely valuable to us, Midoriya.”

Izuku let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. All Might positively beamed at him and flashed him a thumbs up, which was its own, heart-warming reward. They all stood up and made to leave, when Izuku remembered he owed the two men a proper thanks.

“Ah, I really appreciate that you used your influence to… to get the papers off my back. It was… unreasonable of me to ask, but I  really  appreciate you humoring my hope for discretion anyway. I hope that it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

Tsukauchi and All Might traded a puzzled glance. 

“We did nothing of the sort, kid. What makes you-” All Might stopped, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Ah! You did mention it yesterday, didn’t you? That you were expecting your friend to expose your quirk…”

“Yes. I… I imagine Kacchan told the journalists, and you took care of, uh, correcting his version?”

“No, no, there was no need to.” All Might waved his hand dismissively. “Your friend didn’t mention you at all. He was on the verge of fainting when you rushed in, he’d been strenuously fighting back against the villain for a while by that time. He was too exhausted to notice your intervention, and you bolted immediately afterwards. He never realized you were there.”

Izuku’s jaw dropped half-way open, but he shut it immediately with an audible click. 

“...Ah.” Kacchan hadn’t realized. The bystanders hadn’t realized. The police hadn’t realized. All Might hadn’t really realized. That meant that no one, no one, would know about his quirk right now… if he hadn’t gone and spilled the beans about it himself. If he hadn’t dumped an unnecessary confession to the number one hero out of sheer, emotional anxiety.

...Boy, that next phone call was going to be one for the ages.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #331

my head hurts way too badly to think up some intro lyrics, so just g’night.

Have you ever become good friends with someone you never met in person? Oh yeah, I've had best friends over the Internet. Hell, I'm closer to many online friends than I am most irl ones. They know "the real me" more. What do you consider your default mood to be? Stressed, probably. Discontent. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? Not long. Proper goldfish husbandry is a very neglected topic, and I sure as hell never knew how to set up its tank adequately. Have you ever been paintballing? No, don't plan to. It looks like it hurts like a bitch. Do you want a large wedding? No. Did you ever collect any sort of cards? I had a very small collection of Pokemon cards. I didn't collect them avidly. What’re the best and worst books you ever had to read for a class? The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton was the best. The worst was some book we had to read in the 6th grade about a kid during some war that moved around a lot... I don't remember the name or who wrote it, but it sucked. What’s the best meal you had at an amusement park, or If you haven’t been to one, how about a good meal at another place like a zoo, aquarium or museum? I don't know. I haven't been to many. Who, whether a person or company, emails you the most? My PHP therapist emails me a check-in sheet and Zoom link every day there's a therapy session. What kind of sound or noise freaks you out the most and why do you think it scares you? Let's seeeee... I don't know if there's a sound that actually freaks me out. There are some I don't like, but none that like, frighten me. At least that I can think of. What’s the strangest art piece you’ve come across? Biiiitch there's a painting in Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs I'm not gonna go into, but shit fuckin wild. What’s the most clever or unique name you’ve come across for a business? I've definitely heard some cool ones, but I don't know about one that really stands out to answer this. If you had to name one of your hypothetical future children after a song, which song would you pick? Maybe like... okay, I'm blanking. Good thing I'm not having kids to name then, right? What’s the last song you heard? "Down in the Park" by Marilyn Manson is on atm. What is your favorite line from a TV show? *shrug* Any current family issues? No. How many hours do you spend online a day? How do you feel about that? I'm doing something on the computer pretty much... always. I hate it, and I hate it a lot. I don't want my life to be tied solely to the digital plane. I want to do more than bounce back and forth from website to website. Do you think that people have the power to make their own lives better? Absolutely, but there are some things they simply cannot change. It's about perspective and how you play the deck you're dealt. What is the biggest problem in your life right now? Right now, the most limiting thing is my physical health, probably. Just walking being torture affects my ability to exercise, and my body is a major reason - if not the biggest, at this current time - for my depression. This also plays a massive role in jobs I can handle. Not to sound like my emo self writing middle school poetry, but my body feels like a prison. Do you feel that you are loved? I know I am by some people, though I have a hard time understanding why a lot. What is the one thing you want most from life? Life satisfaction. Pride in what I've accomplished. A regular state of being content. Birthplace? I'm just gonna say in eastern NC. Do you believe in love at first sight? No, merely infatuation. Love is much too deep for that. Do you think dreams eventually come true? Some can, but usually only if you put effort into making that so. Favorite fictional character? like ummmmmmmm have you heard of this sassy bastard called Darkiplier- Go to the movies or rent? Before Covid, I loved going to the theater. It was something to do, plus a giant screen is nice. McDonalds or Burger King? McD's. I'm not a big BK fan. I only really went there during my vegetarian phase for the veggie burger. Current annoyance? This motherfucking headache. Last thing you ate? I have a meal replacement shake with me right now, if you consider that "eating." I didn't have a proper dinner. The last solid food I had though was some cookies and cream Greek yogurt. Last thing you bought? With my own money, I think I bought Mom and I some cheap McDonald's order semi-recently? Or maybe paying my $100 deposit for my tattoo was most recent, idk. Soonest thing you are looking forward to? For Mom to get her CT scan and find out what's going on in there. What did you do today? It was a pretty average day. I woke up way too early, though. The only thing even semi-unique about today was I played World of Warcraft for a few hours again; I've been quite unattached to it lately, but I went through an episode today of actually having fun playing. Oh, and I've been battling a migraine. It's more of a severe headache now, at least, but it still sucks big time. Do you like to see it snowing outside? Oh yes, absolutely! When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? I believe once we did from a very volatile student that honestly caused quite a lot of trouble. He's dead now. Who knows ALL of your secrets? Nobody. Did you have a job before you were in college? No. Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? That's a terrifying thought, no. Are you on birth control? Yeah, but just because it tames my menstrual cramps. Without it, they could be debilitating some days. Who is your last sent text to? My best fren. Have you ever eaten at Chipotle before? Possibly? Idr. Do you swear often? Excessively. I had a dirty mouth prior, but my swearing got really bad when I started staying at Jason's house a lot. He and especially his mother swear like mad. Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? No. Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? Not at this house, no. Would you ever go to Japan? Oh, yes. I would love to. It's... very morbid, but I would really like to walk the (public) paths of Aokigahara Forest, nicknamed "Suicide Forest" for the horrible amount of, well, suicides that happen there via hanging. Like, you might just casually run into a dead body. I want to just... feel it there, walk in silence and empathize with people who didn't know what else to do and hope so deeply that those departed know they were never alone in their pain. I know with absolute certainty I'd probably be teary-eyed the whole time and cry a whoooole lot, but it's just an experience I want to have. What was the last thing you went to Walmart for? Some basic groceries. What should you be doing right now? Sleeping, given this headache... I just don't want to yet. Are you afraid of getting your heart broken? I'm fucking terrified of that ever happening again, far more than words can properly express. Have you ever been in a choir? Yes, actually; when I was a Catholic kid, my sisters and I were in the church choir for a year or so, idr. Do you have a Twitter? Yes, but only to like Mark's tweets, haha. Oh, and very rarely enter giveaways I'm interested in. Describe your retainers to me, if you have them, that is. I have a permanent metal one behind my front row of bottom teeth to keep those straight. My upper teeth had one of those normal retainers you take in and out, but I didn't wear it enough, so now it doesn't even fit. Would you like for someone to call you right now? No. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I'm enjoying the song I'm bingeing. It's so weird, I rarely ever go on music hunting trips (no real reason, I just... don't), but I've found great shit lately. Do you like to brush your teeth? No; it's a chore. I only do it because I don't want my teeth decaying, falling out, or getting too yellow, and the taste in your mouth and gritty texture on your teeth isn't exactly great when you don't brush. Have you ever had a surgery? Two. Give out your phone number over the internet? I have over private messages. Do you look older or younger than you actually are? Given my wardrobe (like graphic tees and band shirts), I probably look younger in the eyes of especially older people. I personally say I look my age, though. When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? I never plan to be again. What is the last show that you watched a full episode of? Some cooking show with Mom. Nailed It!, I think? Do you know anyone who lives in Utah? No. I love Utah, though; it's actually a place I'd be willing to live in with just how pretty it is and not super populated. Do you get your feelings hurt easily? VERY. I'm probably one of the most sensitive people you can meet. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? Yeah. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Ugh, yes. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? First we took those nasty, chalky Flintstones kinds, but as time passed, Mom moved onto giving us gummy bear vitamins that were perfectly fine. Did you get any compliments today? No. Are you friends with your neighbors? Not "friends," no. What towns have you lived in? Three different ones. That's all you're getting. Have you ever thrown up from drinking? No. Done any illegal drugs? No. I mean I've had some alcohol underage, but I've never done anything remotely hardcore. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been on an airplane without changing flights? Idk. Who have you texted today? My mom and best friend. What time did you wake up this morning? Ugh, like five in the fucking morning. I couldn't go back to sleep. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Making shitty eye contact, and I'm one of those people who "talks with [their] hands." I also lose my train of thought a whoooole lot. Have you ever layed in a hammock? Yeah; we had one growing up. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? Well yeah, I've had lots of pets, so thus lost some in particularly painful ways. The most scarring loss of a pet though is as follows: Teddy, my dog, picked up one of our cat's very young, wandering kittens in his jaws in a manner that looked as if he was trying to carry it like Aphrodite (the mother cat) does when she would bring them back behind the couch, where she gave birth/had her little "nest." I absolutely freaked and had to pry the kitten from his mouth, and it slowly died in my hands. I think Teddy accidentally crushed its ribs. I. Was. A. Mess. Then, there was Aphrodite herself. I've told the story before of our former neighbors calling animal control because our cats would wander through their yard, and all of our cats were taken away while I was unaware at school. Came home, and they were all gone. Aphrodite was my baby, so I was devastated. Screaming, sobbing, cursing on the porch for like 20 minutes... It was awful. What type of curtains do you like? I don't... know? I don't know the actual names of any types... What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? I absolutely cannot be friends with someone who thinks they're above everyone else. Are you any good at reading someone's body language? I think I am. What goes good with a nice cold glass of milk? Cookies! Especially Oreos. Dip it in there for around five seconds, and it's perfection. What fruit is too sweet to you? Grapefruit came to mind first. How did you feel after your first kiss? I had butterflies galore and was so giddy and smiley. After the first, I just wanted to kiss him a billion more times. What’s your favorite constellation and why? I don't have one. Shower curtain or door? Curtain. The glass doors are too revealing. Have you ever thought to yourself that you’re the luckiest person in the world? Most deeeeefinitely not. What time of day do you most enjoy looking at the sky? Sunset if there are clouds present, but sunrise if the sky is pretty clear.

[such-a-fellow]

@silver-colour tagged me to list 10 of my niche interests, which seemed like a real fun tag game, so I’m gonna try XD not sure I can scrounge up 10 but here goes

1) I’m so used to being into the Takarazuka Revue I’d barely even categorize it as niche, but in any case as I’m a fan of theatre and musicals together this rabbit hole is like crack to me. Sooo much hard work and talent and amazing shows, and so awesome in terms of its history and fan culture.

2) Shakespeare isn’t exactly niche and Romeo and Juliet as a concept REALLY isn’t, but I adore this play and this story so much and I LOVE looking up different stagings and adaptations to watch/read/listen to; a couple of my favorites are the ballets (Macmillan’s choreography especially) and Takarazuka’s ‘Romeo and Juliet 1999’ from their 1999 shakespeare series.

3) Personifications of death in mythology and literature! I know this is kinda overly specific and I’m not an expert on the subject quite but it’s a topic I could read about for hours, it’s so interesting to look at ancient cultures especially in terms of how they portrayed and viewed death.

4) The Rose of Versailles-I know a lot of this list so far is tangentially Takarazuka-related but in this case I really just deeply love the manga (and the anime and shows as well obviously, but); the characters and story stuck with me in a way I can’t describe.

5) Another kinda specific and morbid one, Japanese love suicide plays (Chikamatsu’s work in particular). I really like the beauty and poetry of stories like that and they’re so historically cool as well! Shoutout to @flibbityflob for dumping me in this particular literature rabbit hole, I’ve never recovered.

6) Julia Ecklar’s music! I stumbled across it a while ago and it’s so unique and lovely and fun, her writing is lovely and filk in general is a cool genre, 10/10 would recommend

7) I’ve been slowly reading through Dostoevsky’s work lately. He’s one of my favorite classic authors; I know it sounds pretentious as all hell but Crime and Punishment was one of my favorite books in high school, and I’ve been head over heels for The Brothers Karamazov all year. I think the way he captures people is extremely beautiful and his thoughts on humanity and morality and life are really interesting to read.

8) It’s not niche it’s what I want to go to school for but archaeological study of Ancient Greek and Roman history has always been a love of mine

9) Against my better judgement and to the bitter end, Anastasia (the musical, but also just the entire history and all the fictionalized versions of it and of the whole idea of the “surviving princess” etc.)

10) Sewing, a bit at least! Nothing fancy, but I like improvising stuffed animals and decorations and such a lot.

Wow a lot of those ended up just being literature. Lockdown has thrown me in a PIT I swear somewhere I have other interests. Anyway, tagging @de-lafayettes @rosalinecapulet @flibbityflob @e-meersie @soggywarmpockets @thatjessawall and anyone else in the mood this is a fun one

[raendown]

What a way to celebrate Tobirama’s birthday. xD 

Pairing: None Word count: 4022 Chapter: 3/4 Rated: T+ Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 3

As a child Izuna can remember his mother teaching him a method of meditating on his own breathing pattern in an attempt to rein in his temper. It had worked to some extent then. At the moment he finds himself having much more limited success. It wouldn’t be so bad if his unwanted mission partner would only travel beside him but no matter what speed they move at somehow Tobirama always ends up just a step or two behind and it’s driving him absolutely wild.

“Have you tried some sort of rewards system?”

“Different ones, yes.”

Even worse still is that they have managed to keep up a semblance of amicable conversation for nearly the entire journey as if there is nothing more between them but the fact that their brothers are friends. Tobirama’s voice carries no hint of aggression, no undue curiosity, and there are certainly no hints of any romantic endeavors. At some point they find themselves on the topic of a child in the Uchiha clan who doesn’t pay even half the attention he should to his lessons and Izuna is vaguely surprised that his companion’s interest seems to be more for the boy than for him.

“Behavioral based or progression based?”

“What’s the difference?”

“If the child feels he is unable to obtain whatever goals have been set for him then he may not feel motivated even by the promise of a reward.”

Listening to him speak in such a bland tone leaves Izuna confused. He isn’t sure whether the man is trying to pretend his weird stalking isn’t happening or if he is merely striving for a bit of normalcy while they are forced to travel together but either way the efforts are pointless. It‘s impossible to pretend that everything is normal while Tobirama refuses to actually walk beside him.

“Huh, I never thought of it like that,” he murmurs, willing to keep the conversation up if only so he isn’t traveling in silence with an old enemy standing just behind his unprotected back. “We’ve tried to do it like that and we’ve tried to bribe him with sweets for even just showing up every day – I swear every tooth in his head is a sweet one. Nothing works.”

While his companion hums thoughtfully Izuna tries to remember if there are any other methods they have used to try and convince little Kagami to take his training more seriously. The little tyke has so much potential. Such a shame that he insists on wasting it all. If he had some other interest or passion that he were trying to pursue instead Izuna might understand, not all of their clan members are fighters after all, but at times it feels as though Kagami seems determined to simply never grow up.

A pause in the steps behind him catches his attention and Izuna turns to see that Tobirama has gone stiff, his head turned away, eyes narrowed where they stare in to the middle distance off east. Instinctively Izuna turns to look that way as well only to realize that Tobirama probably isn’t actually looking with his eyes.

“Three inbound at high speeds. Feels like Kaminari no Kuni shinobi.”

“Gods, how powerful is your sensing?” Izuna grumbles, loosening his sword in its sheath.

“More than I ever allowed the Uchiha to discover.” Tobirama’s gaze flicks over towards him and there is something dark hidden there before he looks away. “An oversight, perhaps, that I have not seen fit to share my true abilities with our new allies.”

“Right. Let’s take care of this and then we’re having a nice long conversation on exactly what you’re capable of.”

Before there is time for any sort of reply their new company arrives, flitting in to the treetops above them and pausing to assess the situation. Izuna takes a good grip on the handle of his favorite sword, tightening his fingers one by one, counting breaths just as his mother taught him.

In, out, one. Three opponents, one male and two female.

In, out, two. A sword glimmers in the hand of one female, something heavy and club like in the hands of the male, close combat fighters.

In, out, three. Large chakra stores burn almost tangibly in the air around the third, clearly a distance fighter, he will need to keep an eye out for whatever jutsu she has up her sleeve.

He never gets to four breaths. From behind him Tobirama explodes in to motion, charging the woman nearly bursting at the seams with her own chakra. A low hiss cuts the air just before the man leaps in to defend his companion. Izuna rolls his shoulders and acknowledges that he has been left to face the woman bearing a sword to match his own, the perfect opponent. Out of all the spars he has enjoyed with many and varied people since moving to Konoha very few of them have been able to match his skill with a blade enough to offer a proper challenge. In a strange way he almost misses his battles with the man he is currently fighting alongside if only because he worries that without Tobirama to face he might lose his edge.

Sparks leap between their weapons and Izuna realizes that he has moved out of habit without even consciously deciding to, sword leaping to hand and meeting the one aiming for his neck. For a single heartbeat they struggle, brute strength against brute strength, then the woman twists and dodges back once she realizes that his bulk outweighs her own. Rather than allow her the time to think up another angle of attack Izuna hefts his sword and watches her respond with a snarl of frustration. Good. That means she is off balance and an opponent who has no time to think is an opponent he can easily beat.

Only sharp reflexes stop his blade from cutting through the wrong flesh, pulling up a mere instant before he would have pierced Tobirama through the side as his mission partner suddenly appears between them to deflect his opponent’s blade. Then he is skipping away again with a snarl of his own. Izuna floods his eyes with chakra just to take in the expression of something almost like desperation on the man’s face. His reputation being what it is, revealing his greatest battle advantage has the added benefit of causing his opponent to hesitate. Not many people who know what it can do are stupid enough to attack an active Sharingan straight on and Izuna is oddly glad to see that his opponent is not stupid. Easy kills are no fun.

As Tobirama is pressed back by his own two assailants Izuna rushes in to keep this one busy. He can’t afford to let her find her bearings; he learned the hard way when he was younger to never underestimate how many tricks your opponent might have up their sleeve. She might seem like her skills barely match his own but he has no way of knowing what tricks or seals or the like she might pull out at a moment’s notice.

Neither does he have a chance to find out, as it happens. Each time their clash looks as though it might be about to get interesting Tobirama appears between them. At first Izuna accepts that he simply needs to dodge quite a lot while trying to face a long range and a short range fighter at the same time; keeping up with two different styles means keeping on your toes. It isn’t until his Sharingan focuses in on the pair chasing his partner around the field that he realizes both of them are downright ragged looking. One bleeds from several places and the other looks just on the verge of an asthmatic attack so out of breath are they. In contrast Tobirama looks tense yet still in good condition.

So if it’s Tobirama that is leading them around by the nose rather than the one getting chased why on earth does he keep dashing in between Izuna and his own kill? There’s a whole forest here to move around in.

Annoying as it is, the trained shinobi in his soul can’t help but admire how quickly Tobirama moves from place to place, how seamlessly he manages to insert himself just in time to deflect whatever attack Izuna is about to meet and then dance away again as though he’d never been there. Whatever else he is there can be no denying that he’s a skilled fighter. The problem is trying to figure out what the hell he is up to.

It simply doesn’t make sense, Izuna thinks as he takes his opportunity to bull in close and drive the woman back with a rapid flurry of attacks. Weeks and months of stalking that Izuna has been interpreting as some lingering form of aggression. Now suddenly the man is jumping in front of him in battle. Has he been making observations leading him to the conclusion that Izuna’s skills have diminished somehow? That certainly makes more sense than the ridiculous rumors of forbidden love, although it’s also wildly more insulting. Yet even that theory includes enough gaping holes that he can’t quite believe it either.

By the time Izuna finds an opening to drive his blade through his opponent’s neck and watch her gurgle out her last curses on the forest floor he is equal parts curious and livid. Tobirama dispatches of his own two assailants only a moment later as though he has merely been playing with them as some morbid excuse to remain occupied. He waits just long enough to clean his sword and slide it back in to the scabbard across his back, then Izuna is marching across the torn clearing to take the collar of his old rival’s armor and drag them face to face, oddly unsurprised that he is allowed to do so with no resistance.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growls. “I’m not so softened by this stupid dream of our brothers’ that I’ve forgotten how to defend myself! I had that covered!”

“Your skill was never in question,” Tobirama murmurs. He looks entirely calm, unruffled, and that only irritates Izuna further.

“It sure as hell feels questioned with you babying me like some genin out on their first run! If you think I need to polish a few things then say it to my face, damn it, quit treating me with kid gloves! I didn’t need it back home and I don’t need it here!”

Composed as he ever is, Tobirama fails to react in any satisfying sort of way. He fails to so much as blink while Izuna screams in his face but there is one thing to be gained from overreacting. From this close – perhaps the first time they have ever been so close outside of battle – it is plain to see the well of something dark and deep in those red eyes so like the Sharingan, something that brings ice crawling up Izuna’s spine though he can’t yet define what it is. It’s enough to snap his jaw shut and make him step away to watch quietly as Tobirama turns, murmuring again that they should press on to their destination.

An uncomfortable mixture of anger and confusion with shades of worry twists itself into knots inside Izuna’s belly, keeping his mouth shut for the rest of their mission, speaking only when it is absolutely necessary. On the journey home he can feel the back of his neck itching with Tobirama’s eyes almost every step of the way but he holds his tongue for fear of what else he might see in that unwavering gaze.

When they make it back to the village the first thing they do is make their report to Hashirama, of course. Madara joins them and together they remain sequestered for over an hour discussing the results of their goodwill efforts. Despite his attempts to appear nonchalant Izuna is fairly sure the clan they were visiting with had noticed some tensions between himself and Tobirama but in a strange way it had actually worked out in their favor as their hosts seemed to be impressed with how well they function together anyway. Talking about that without making a big deal of why exactly there had been some friction in their unity is difficult. Izuna is more than glad when finally they have said all there is to say for now and he is able to drag his brother off towards home.

Madara puts up a good act of wanting to stay and finish his work. He fools no one. Not even his workaholic tendencies are enough to keep him from spending a bit of quality time with his favorite sibling – although Izuna does notice the man tucking a few scrolls in to his sleeve before they depart. It gets him out the door, however, so no comments are made until finally they are making their way through the gate leading in to the Uchiha district.

“I can’t figure out his angle,” he blurts, too eager for another’s opinion to bother with context.

“Who, Hashirama?”

“No! Don’t be an idiot, that tree is as transparent as glass with his intentions. I mean his gods damned brother!”

Humming contemplatively, Madara pulls a bit of hair forward to fiddle with. “Wouldn’t having him forced to travel with you sort of negate the stalking? I know you didn’t want him along but I thought it would be nice for you to at least drag him out of the shadows.”

Rather tempted to pull at his own hair, Izuna takes several breaths and counts them before he is able to form a reply through the flash of temper.

Thankfully his brother has the good grace not to interrupt as he recounts everything that’s happened while he was away. His description of the way Tobirama seemed to constantly find his way between Izuna and his opponent during their battle brings a crease to Madara's brow that only deepens as the story goes on. Slowly making their way up one of the side streets, a shortcut towards their home, he tosses the chunk of hair he is playing with back over his shoulder only to grab another and start again.

“Strange,” he rumbles. “Very strange. I honestly have no idea what the hell this is all about.”

“I know that it’s ridiculous but I just need to hear someone else say this out loud: please tell me it’s not plausible that he’s actually fallen in love with me somehow.”

“Plausible, technically yes. Probable, a very strong no.”

“Oh thank the gods.” Izuna slumps with relief to finally have another confirm his thoughts.

After rolling his eyes Madara slips right back in to thoughtfulness. “There’s something about this that just doesn’t quite sit with me the right way. I know it would make the most sense to say that he still doesn’t trust you, that he’s been following you to keep a close watch or whatever, but for some reason I just can’t make myself believe that. There’s no other evidence of that in any other behavior.”

“Yes, thanks, I didn’t quite notice that for myself.”

“If that’s how you’re going to behave then I don’t see why you started talking about it! Go jabber at someone else if you’re just going to be all snooty about whatever I have to say!” With a sniff Madara turns up his nose and quickens his steps.

While Izuna isn’t entirely sure how he ends up being left alone outside he isn’t all that surprised either. The two of them share like tempers after all. Madara is as given to hissy fits as he himself can freely admit to being. He follows behind at a slower pace and lets himself in to the home they share, nodding at the shoes kicked off haphazardly at just the right spot where they might trip him up if he weren’t already expecting to see them there.

Madara is angrily plugging in their fancy new electric kettle when he enters the kitchen and slumps down in to the closest chair, blowing out his fringe with exasperation.

“Done being a baby?” he asks bluntly. Madara crinkles his nose.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re still thinking about it. I can practically see the gears turning in your head.”

His brother pauses in the act of pulling down two cups with the continuing thoughts he doesn’t bother to deny spilling out over his face. “Obviously I am. I keep trying to think of some other reason he might be doing this but nothing comes to mind. If it’s not that he doesn’t trust you and it’s not that he has some sort of romantic whatever–”

“Kami please no,” Izuna interrupts with a shudder.

“–then he clearly has some other special interest in you but I am honestly stumped. If it were almost anyone else I might go so far as jealousy except the two of you have always been so closely matched that I can’t see either being jealous of the other.” Madara jolts himself in to movement again, reaching for the tea leaves, but continues speaking even as he measures them out. “I would have considered that he was trying to learn something specific about you too but for the fact that he hasn’t been shy about asking for any other information he’s wanted on our clan.”

“Which is a lot of information, actually.”

“Hm. I guess. No more than we’ve asked from the others, though, and nothing that he’s asked for has been any more suspicious or invasive than the things we’ve asked about the Senju in turn.”

Izuna rattles his nails against the hardwood table. “Do you think that could be it? Maybe there’s something he wants to find out but it’s inappropriate or he knows we won’t want to share whatever information he’s after.”

He waits with as much patience as he can muster while the other tosses that idea around but even as he speaks the words Izuna himself realizes that probably isn’t it either. Tobirama might be a sneaky bastard on the battlefield and more than capable of subterfuge when it’s necessary during a mission but in daily life he has shown himself to prefer as direct a route as possible to whatever goal he has in his sights. Finally Madara pushes both teacups towards the kettle and leaves it to boil as he comes over to sit at the table.

“No,” his brother says. “That just doesn’t sound right either. And the worst part is that I can’t say why it doesn’t sound right. It feels like there’s something nagging at the back of my brain, something important that I’ve forgotten. Like a missing piece of the puzzle.”

“Would your friend know anything do you think?”

Madara blinks. “Hashirama? He might. It would be worth asking if he’s got any idea what crawled up his brother’s ass.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be going over to their house for dinner tomorrow night?” Izuna rattles his fingers again but this time it is less with frustration and more to express the satisfaction of the stars aligning just for him. He is further pleased to see his sibling lean back with widening eyes.

“I am going to dinner, yes. He asked me over because both Tobirama and Mito are supposed to be busy and he wanted company. We’ll be all alone.”

“You couldn’t wish for a better opportunity to ask a few questions,” Izuna purrs with satisfaction.

When the kettle begins to whistle they turn the conversation towards other things. Spending time together after being apart – even if for so short a time – is only one of the ways they maintain such a tight bond between them. Even here in another home the shadows of the siblings they have lost echo around every corner, chased away only by the warmth of knowing that Madara will always stand beside him against whatever the world might choose to throw at them.

After a while, however, he finds other thoughts wriggling in, thoughts that Izuna knows he is above and yet he can’t seem to push them away without addressing them. Tracing the rim of his nearly empty cup gives him something else to look at as he fills the lull that has fallen naturally in their conversation.

“Can I ask you something?” He waits for the curious grunt before going on. “Why don’t you seem more worried about this whole Tobirama situation?”

“What do you mean?”

“If there was someone following you around all the time I think I’d be a lot more freaked out about it than you seem to be. Not that I’m angry or making any accusations! It’s just…odd. You’re usually so overprotective it’s hard for me to even flirt with anyone.”

“Hn.” Madara bunches his brows together as though mildly offended by the insinuation that he might not care. “I guess I just don’t feel any ill intentions from him. Something in my gut tells me that he hasn’t got anything bad up his sleeve. The way he interacts with you – hell, the way he interacts with all the rest of our clan – I just can’t bring myself to believe that he’s after anything terrible. I guess I was just unconsciously acknowledging that I don’t believe you’re in any sort of danger.”

Somehow that only increases the dread pooling in Izuna’s gut.

“If he doesn’t have any bad intentions then the kami only know what else he could have in that twisted brain of his. Ancestors watch over me.”

While his brother snorts and gently teases him for being so dramatic Izuna lets the words drift by him without actually listening. The entire reason he’s been wanting to go out on a mission is to get away from this situation with his old rival and just clear his mind a bit. Now that he’s been denied that opportunity and come home only more confused in the aftermath he realizes more than ever that he needs a night to just relax, to let everything else fade away until his mind is empty of all worries. And what better way to achieve that then a night on the town with someone he can trust to be entirely disinterested in whatever drama he’s gotten himself embroiled in this time?

“You gonna be okay on your own tonight?” he cuts in through whatever the other is saying. “I think I’ll go see if I can drag Hikaku down to one of the taverns for a few hours.”

“Don’t you have work to catch up on tomorrow?” Madara asks.

“I’m not going to get drunk or anything, don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. Just thought it would be nice to unwind for a while.”

Even as he nods understandingly Madara puts one hand to his chest and exclaims in dramatic fashion, “Because you’re just so stressed with all the work you do, of course. Helping to run a village, keeping both eyes on a walking tree, achieving your lifelong dreams. Oh no wait, that’s me.”

“Fuck off,” Izuna calls cheerfully over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the room, deliberately leaving the teacup behind for the other to clean up after him. Pettiness is just another family trait.

With any luck Hikaku will be as willing to indulge him as his aniki is. Izuna reaches back to pull the tie from his hair and run his fingers through it. Perhaps a bath is in order first to wash the dirt of the road away, he probably still smells like the rivers they’ve been trudging through. Unpacking can wait for tomorrow. If his cousin doesn’t want to come out then he fully intends to bully his way in to the other man’s home and find something there to help him get his mind off of things. Tobirama can remain a problem for another day just once more.

Tomorrow his brother will speak with Hashirama and ask their questions. Tomorrow, he hopes, they will have answers.

[comicteaparty]

May 2nd-May 8th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from May 2nd, 2020 to May 8th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

What are some of the weirdest things you've Googled while researching for your story?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

For Whispers of the Past, the weirdest thing I googled was probably: "puncture wounds versus lacerations" and "chance of survival after getting stabbed." Pretty sure I also looked up: "treatment for arsenic poisoning," "lethal dose of arsenic," "arsenic in nature," "broken ribs symptoms and treatments," "pneumothorax," "can a horse kill someone by trampling them?" and "how far can you fall without dying?" Basically, just a bunch of medical questions. For another story, I think the weirdest thing I looked up was, "can you take antidepressants and sleeping pills together?" More medical questions

carcarchu

@ cronaj's answer "i swear i'm an author not a serial killer"

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Hmmm.

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I think for me was searching up symptoms of PTSD, eating disorders, and also victims of cheating

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Probably that time trying to research poisonous substances available in Victorian and earlier households with potentially fatal results if ingested but not immediate, and their symptoms/treatments

The answer, incidentally, is that most of them aren't treatable if you've had a high enough dose to get symptoms.

And non-lethal doses tend to have unpleasant long term effects

Deo101 [Millennium]

I don't remember all the crazy stuff I've looked up. What's popping into my head at the moment, though, is I did almost a month of research into time travel paradoxes for a plot that I ended up not using! So that's fun

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Also that Victorians kept arsenic (a white powder) in the same place as sugar (a white powder) in often unmarked containers since literacy was low and labels only work if you can read them

There was far more accidental poisonings from putting arsenic in your tea than I can count

carcarchu

what about having a picture of a skull and cross bones on the arsenic tin

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I think it was arsenic. Maybe cynanide...

Ahaha

You'd think so wouldn't you?

That's not even going into the whole thing about green dyes for clothing being made from arsenic as well I think and being uh

Literally fatal to wear?

Well done, Victorians.

Let me grab y'all a source for that one

https://youtu.be/K2McemVuG28

Here you go!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh my god what the

Them victorians are so morbid

Did you know that they have a garden of poison

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Welcome to writing historical!

Yes I did

I wanna go

But yeah go back a century or two

Literally everything seems to be poisonous

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Arsenic, radium......damn they don’t follow WHMIS

carcarchu

wasn't even that long ago when they were putting mercury in everything

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Including NORMAL FOOD

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

And toys

Kids were playing with them

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Oh the Bradford Sweets Poisoning was a whole thing!

Hang on

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/1858_Bradford_sweets_poisoning

This one is uh

Definitely worse

carcarchu

bruh

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Yeah

There's so much of this...

It's amazing humanity made it this far

So yeah that's what I've googled

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Would that...even fly here nowadays

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

What the arsenic

Nooope

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Hooooo god that is mildly terrifying

Like I make sweets for a living

I don’t even want to think how I’ll feel if I accidentally poisoned 200 people

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

It did lead to modern food hygiene laws and much better regulations on chemists being responsible for their supplies

But yep

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I remember someone telling me “Behind every rule/regulation was someone who got hurt or died”

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Yeahhhh

Sometimes also where there aren't rules because hahaha some companies are shit

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yeah it’s sucks and it’s even worse because you KNOW they’re just pushing the limits

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Capitalism has always been like that, it's just people can see it a bit more now

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yeah, the age of information has really exposed the nasty side of things huh Hmmm I think I’ve studied something really different for my webcomic. I was looking into the justice system and how it treated minors

And I had to look up burn victims/homicides soooooooooooo

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Whoops sorry for the ping, I thought you said mirrors not minors and was gonna ask

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh god that would be....completely different

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I'm writing about vampires, mirrors are more common (concept and word)..

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yes! I think it’s because back in the day silver was used in mirrors and that’s why you can’t see a vampire’s reflection

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

weirdest thing I searched so far is about er the male modeling industry and how they have to slap cheeks and junks to get the body to fill in clothing

and I wondered "do I need to do a deep dive in this or"

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I tried to look up what damaged vocal cords looked like, so i could show it when Count Bailey got poisoned, but I mostly got body camera shots inside a person's throat, so I had to largely wing it by darkening the veins in his neck lol Other than that, I have to look up Irish slang a lot, as Merlow slips into it more when he gets drunk.

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I have a twittee thread somewhere about mirrors and vampires

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Okay tuyetnhi I’m a bit more...disturbed yet intrigued by that idea. Nutty yes I noticed that! I liked that small detail actually And Eilidh, i would love to see that twitter thread

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Yeah, I ended up making a deep dive and ho boi

it's darker than I expected LOL

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I tried to look up people getting crushed by cars or falling objects but the videos were very blurry and made me dizzy so I just went fuck it my comic's not realistic anyways I'm winging it

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Probably an extensive search for all things occult? Its such a wide topic so it was daunting to sift through everything, but also really cool to see so many different cultures have been influenced by such things! Ive read some excerpts about the sixth sense and human capabilities too, very interesting!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!) That is the most splendidly weird research I have heard of

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I was trying to research for one of my characters and i'm just

the things they do

I scream everyday

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lol tuyetnhi got me to look it up but all I can find is stuff about sexual assault

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

that's what I mean

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

OH

:(

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Whoa okay

That’s really dark

Like I had to look up abuse relations

DanitheCarutor

Oh geez, I've looked up a lot of stuff. Recently I Googled public bathrooms and backs of toilets because I'm too lazy to get up and look at my own toilet. SAECKs/SAKs, the price with and without insurance, how it works and if men can use them. (Which was kinda sad that I didn't know they could although the resource was surprisingly hard to find, all except one link I found were about women using them.) I've looked up medical stuff like the different stages of certain cancers, their symptoms, treatments and other things involves like their effect on the person's mental health, if things like physical therapy is needed and the effects of the treatment along with the types of treatment needed. Also the cost with and without insurance, as well as cancer treatment facilities for people with low income. Various mental illnesses/disorders, the different types treatment, the effects of the treatment, as well as cost and facilities that offer free/cheaper treatment for people with low income. Lactose intolerance, celiac disease, gaslighting, trauma brought on by abuse. Things like the mental effects of children taking on adult responsibilities early on, growing up with lack of stability and human trafficking. Types of physical abuse that doesn't leave obvious bruising/scarring, psychological abuse (outside of gaslighting). Court stuff, like legal charges for attempted murder, court procedures. Caregiver programs for family members caring for someone with a severe mental illness. What actions are taken when someone files a charge for being drugged against their consent and the steps that need to be taken if your ID and credit cards/debit cards have been stolen, as well as what the police need do in those situations. Gosh, I can go on and on, just go on forever about all the things I've researched.

Most of it is medical and mental health related.

I feel this is fitting for some of the subjects we've Googled.

DanitheCarutor

Wow, I didn't realize how much I looked at the cost of stuff. Like a good chunk of my research has been dedicated to what different insurances cover, how much, the base price without insurance and payment plans for people in the latter category. I guess the upside is I'll have some knowledge on the different insurance companies if I ever get to a point where I can get it, as well as payment plan options if I'm ever hospitalized.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Googling images of cadaver hands for reference was... not a pleasant experience

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Most recently I was looking for heart dissections. I had to take a break cuz I was making myself feel sick X')

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Searching up burn victims was not fun either

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

also this has made me realize that artists can be a very morbid bunch

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

yeah like dang ya'll lmao

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I know someone who had to look up (a bit gory) "can you strangle/hang someone with your intestines"

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Chances are the audience is not gonna know either so

dunno how much accuracy matters in this situation :p(edited)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I mean....unfortunately I know what it's like to see a drowned corpse So if it's accurate....I would...strangely appreciate it more?

Like you never know your audience

DanitheCarutor

When I was first starting to dabble in comics I was attempting this dark fantasy/mythology-ish story that would have some gore. I looked up stuff like "skull being crushed", "what does 'x' limb look like when being ripped off", "what does a corpse look like after sitting for 'x' many days". Most of my searched led me to the Best Gore site, which is totally recommended if you need references for your gory horror comic, but is NOT a site for the faint of heart. You will most likely get sick from the content... and the comment section.

Oddly enough, when I used to do the occasional stand alone gore-ish illustration I'd get 1-2 comments with people being grateful for the accuracy. It's... interesting that they would know what would and wouldn't be accurate with stuff like that.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh, I looked up burn victims before.... Yeah, I've looked up a lot of weird stuff.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

I had to look up fresh and healed burnscar myself for a comic, a character survivived a housefire.

Most of the time I am googling history actually - and mostly tech-levels of a given time and what was contemporary with what - guns and knights for example co-existed for quite a few decades, that kind of stuff.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Y'know I'm thinking about it more, and I'm realizing why I can't recall the weird stuff I've looked up. I usually ask people for information! I know a lot of different kinds of people who are more than happy to talk about their experiences, so I can ask them for first hand experience with a lot of situations where I then don't really need to look up much other than to maybe fill some holes I have. It's a different kind of research

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Huh, the weirdest thing I’ve googled? Well, there’s the ever-uncomfortable ‘Googling certain body types for reference but probably looking like a creep to anyone who looks at my search history’. I’ve also googled very oddly specific things like ‘What is a 5-cube called?’ (It’s a pentaract). I’ve also watched videos that demonstrate how a bump key works, and to my FBI agent, I swear it was only for my comic. My search history gets pretty eclectic. I look up a lot of religious lore, and do lot of research into medieval times - mostly about the daily life of the average peasant. Also things like quantum physics, customs in other countries, and animal facts.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Just realizing that I once researched "medieval brewing." That was an interesting train of information.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

For a lot of gruesome or dangerous scenes, I try to aim the search toward movies and TV screencaps. Like, if you need to draw a crashing car, find a series with a dramatic car chase where they slammed a stunt car into a wall in high-def slow-mo.

kayotics

I think the weirdest thing I looked up was trying to figure out the answer to the question “is the gas released by decomposing bodies flammable? And if so how much gas do you need?”

eli [a winged tale]

now I’m curious what’s the answer

kayotics

The answer ended up being that if there was enough gas being created it was probably not enough to be flammable: aka it would not light up the room.

I ended up asking a friend who knows more about decomposition to figure out the answer, but I just wanted to make sure if a character brought a torch into a musty murder basement, it wouldn’t light them up like a Christmas tree

Mostly: it gets smelly and stale

eli [a winged tale]

Good to know!

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Hmm I think the wierd thing I looked up was whether Smile Therapy was a real practice? There are Photos too and I have a feeling it was real. Another thing I look up was; How would a real lady pirate dress in historical times? I did alot of extra research for some little visual hints.(edited)

I feel like Mob psycho nailed the creepiness of Smile Therapy because they were patients forced to pretend to smile, that's what I envision each time. That ep stayed with me(edited)

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

oh my god

Miranda

What is that picture from?? it's creepy haha(edited)

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

mob psycho 100

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

smile therapy is terrifying. Imagine getting punished if you didn't smile

in the end you'll be smiling as a conditioned reaction to fear, not because it's genuine

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Yes exactly, the original one was hard to record so the Google was ambiguous about its existence but there's photo proof that it was a thing

[mintyvan]

B I T T E N  /  P A R T  T W O 

synopsis of the B I T T E N series When Ava wakes up, she’s stuck in the 18th century with strangers who can do even stranger things, and no recollection of her past life. As she learns to cope with what, and who, now surrounds her, she realizes there’s one thing so much bigger than the battle between life and death: love.

filling the requests “more bondy please!” + “you’re interested in both van and bondy” +  “you’re mad at bondy for whatever reason and how he would react, maybe you guys had a fight or something.” Changed the last one up a bit to fit the story - hope you don’t mind. If it’s not what you had in mind, message me and we can work something else out! x

warnings Mentions of lowkey kidnapping, swearing. Mentions of daddy, but I’m sure y’all are filthy enough to enjoy my jokes.

[read part 1 here]

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When Maise dressed Ava the next day, she did the same steps meticulously again: shift dress, petticoat, corset, pockets, petticoat, silk kerchief, gown petticoat, front panel, gown, apron. This time, the gown itself was a robin’s egg blue. And with nowhere for Ava to rush off to, Maise took her time, although she always worked with a fastidious hand. Ava looked around her room with wonder once again, the feeling not settling in yet that this was to be her permanent residence until further notice.

“Anywhere you want to go today, Miss?” Maise asked, dark hairs falling from her tidy bun onto her forehead as she bent to secure Ava’s shoes.

“You mean I can leave the house?”

“‘Course you can. You’d probably want to check with your master first, but --”

“My master?”

A knock at the door sounded just as Maise was affixing the final piece, the white embroidered cloth, to the crown of Ava’s head.

“Well that’ll be him now!” Maise exclaimed, more chipper than Ava could say for herself, whose mind was reeling with the words Maise had spoken.

Maise drifted to open the door, and Bondy’s fist was closed and mid-knock when she opened it.

“Hello love,” Bondy smiled at Ava, white pointy teeth evident against his cherry red lips. “Care for a house tour?”

Bondy led Ava down the hall, around the grand staircase, and into the dining room. He spoke confidently the whole way, as if he’d recited the stories he was telling her hundreds of times. She didn’t think he had, but his confidence was alluring nonetheless.

“This entire house was rebuilt by myself and a team of contractors after it burnt down in 1732. As Maise probably told you, she and her entire family of seven, mom, dad, brothers, sisters, everyone, died in the fire. For some reason, she and her brother are the only ones who attained ghost status. We’re still not sure why that is,” Bondy said thoughtfully, and paced through the door to the old-fashioned kitchen.

“Is that why you set the table for seven?” Ava called to him.

He poked his head through the doorway to the kitchen and laughed. “Partly for that, partly because seven of us now live here in the manor, and partly because it’s Van’s favorite number and he won’t have the table set any other way.”

“That’s a little…. strange… don’t you think?” Ava remarked.

“I’ve been telling him for years.” Bondy smiled down at Ava, who happily returned the smile. She was finding that Bondy was easy to get along with. When he popped back through the doorway, she followed, eager to hear more about the old house she now lived in.

“Here’s the kitchen. Lovely little space. Antique! We don’t use it much, except for when Jack cooks meals for us, like he did last night. Thankful the bugger didn’t lose his skills in death.”

“A helpful poltergeist?”

Bondy snorted. “I like you.” He switched his gaze back to the kitchen. “In this cupboard you’ll find some snacks to eat. It’s full of all kinds of foods, from all different places of the world. But don’t eat anything from a jar. Seriously. My friend Lou likes to fuck with the jams.”

Ava walked around, picking foreign utensils up and surveying the rest of the area as Bondy waited for her to finish perusing.

“This is a special room,” Bondy said softly, knocking his knuckles absentmindedly against the aged wood door. He looked about the rest of the kitchen and its old wrought iron fixtures, and settled his eyes on Ava. “You aren’t allowed to go in here yet, but you will someday.”

“What is it?”

“The cellar. It’s where we keep our….. valuables.”

“Oh.” Ava’s mouth watered at the thought of what kinds of treasure could lie beneath the old house.

“It was the only part of the original house that remained. It’s enchanted by us, but originally it held a large store of energy for the owners. Want to hear my two cents? Maise and her brother were the only ones who became ghosts. But they were also the only two who were unfortunately locked in the cellar at the time of the fire.”

Ava’s heart dropped as her eyes stared beyond the cellar door. Maise and Jack died in that room beneath the earth.

“Don’t get too morbid on her first day, christ,” a short, squat man said as he walked through the kitchen doorway and grabbed a roll of bread from the reed basket on the countertop, ignoring Ava’s surprised sqeak and jump at the sound of someone behind her.

“Larry, lad, let me do my thing, I’ve got to set the scene for her,” Bondy joked.

“You don’t think the scene’s already set? She’s livin’ in a junky old prepster’s house with a bunch of freaks three hundred years before she’s even s’posed to be alive. It’s dark literally everywhere and she knows we bite.”

Ava gulped, and spoke up. “He’s kind of right.”

Larry looked at Bondy with an I-told-you-so smirk, and walked back out to who-knows-where with his bread, gone as quickly as he’d came.

“So that was Larry. I guess I’d better show you the rest of the house, and then we can get going? I’ve got to run a few errands in town. You can come if you’d like,” Bondy stated, chewing on his lip afterward in waiting for an answer. Ava noticed he gave her a choice this time. Perhaps speaking her mind in this household didn’t come with repercussions. In this state, Bondy looked almost… endearing.

“I like the sound of that,” she said, and gave him a bashful smile.

After they ascended the grand staircase to the floor Ava’s room was on, and as she stood panting at the top in all her layers of clothing, Bondy chuckled.

“Whew. That was a lot of stairs,” Ava huffed, wiping the sweat from her brow. “How did I get up those so quickly yesterday?”

“Technically, we just went up two flights of stairs in one. We’re on the third floor now. Oh, and you might notice your strength ebbing and flowing while you’re here. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

Ava trudged after Bondy, the buckled boots starting to rub the backs of her sweaty feet. She was so focused on the floor and her steps that when Bondy stopped to unlock a door at one end of the hall, she smacked right into his back.

“Sorry!” she said, stepping back, cheeks reddening. He shook his head with a fond grin, and twisted the key in the lock.

Bondy’s room was the most lavish room she’d ever seen. Once, she’d been on a school trip to Versailles, and she’d caught tiny glimpses of the king’s quarters behind red velvet ropes and security guards. This time, she was living the reality, and up close.

Gold.

It adorned the ceilings, the chairs, the chaise lounge, the chandelier, even the clock had gold leaf accenting. She’d seen Rococo in paintings before --- that bright cobalt paired with white trim and gold, gold, everywhere --- but she realized now why the royals took to it so easily. Everything gleamed. Astonished, her eyes feasted on the sight before her.

“There’s no way this is real,” she said, full of awe, mouth agape as she swirled around in place, skirts swishing beneath her.

“Did you expect anything less?” he asked quietly, watching her reaction. His low voice resonated across the smooth floors.

“I don’t know you that well, but… I guess not.”

Bondy winked, and opened the door to his actual bedroom. The fireplace near his bed was marbled, his bed frame was gilded, the furniture still covered in gold, and a literal suit of armor complete with chain metal was stood proudly in the corner.

Ava pointed at it expectantly.

“What can I say? I’m a collector,” he laughed.

“Uh-huh,” Ava snickered, eyebrows rising. She followed Bondy back out into the hallway from which they’d come.

“As you can see, the hallway wraps around in a square. Can’t ever get lost. You, Bob, Benji, and myself have the corner rooms. Van’s situated in between you an’ me, Larry’s situated in between me an’ Bob. There are four other empty rooms in the house that we use for storage, and stuff. Although this is the fullest this house has ever been, since the original owners had it.”

Ava knew the house was big, but ten rooms? Who could ever need a house that big? And for what purpose? Her thoughts raced as Bondy filled her in on unimportant mechanics -- “and here’s the guest bathroom” -- and she remembered Van’s room was next to hers. It must have been easy for him to deliver the letter last night. Her heart swelled.

“That’s about it,” Bondy said, snapping Ava out of her thoughts. “Want to go into town?”

******

The walk down the impossibly narrow cobblestone streets, wherein only three to four of Ava dressed up in skirts could walk arm in arm, was troublesome. Ava wasn’t getting used to her boots, and needed to walk slower than she usually did. Not that she remembered how she walked before she woke up in a different century; she could just feel that it was dissimilar. The change in her comfort led to a change in her attitude, and topic of conversation.

“Earlier today Maise told me that you’re my master,” she questioned Bondy, trying to walk dignified next to him as they passed citizens of 1739 France on the roads. She could tell they were dressed much less lavishly than she and Bondy were.

“So it would seem,” he replied casually, eyes squinting in the sunlight, looking for something.

“But why? Stop speaking ambiguously. I want to know why I’m here,” Ava huffed, kicking a loose stone across the street, which earned her looks from passersby.

“I bit you.”

“Yeah, got that part down. The marks in my neck? Pretty deep, I’d say. Vampire bite? It’s the latest trend,” she replied snarkily.

“Blix.”

“Okay, blix, whatever. So what’s going on? Does that just make me your slave? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bondy guffawed, head cast up to the sky in laughter. The sound made her cheeks burn in the best way. He turned to Ava, and smiled. “Here’s some terminology for ya. Because I bit you, I’m your sire. You’re sired to me forever by my bite. Maise uses the word master. But she’s the maid. It’s just…. different dynamics as a whole. And by the way,” he stopped to tap on Ava’s nose. “The reason that we’re here in the first place: we’re looking for a shop called Violet’s Dresser. Help me find it, lassy.”

*****

The shop was quaint, to say the least. Vintage knick knacks of all kinds littered the shelves, but in a classy sort of way that made you understand that if you broke it, you bought it. And the price wouldn’t be pretty.

“Violet, I’m the one who sent a telegram the other day,” Bondy spoke at the counter to the large woman in a giant feather hat. “I’m here for a fitting for my fiancee, Ava.”

Ava’s eyes bugged out of her head, but Bondy gave her a sharp Just go along with it! look. She supposed he had to do things this way. After all, it was 18th century Paris. Why else would a dashing young man be buying exuberant gowns? Certainly not because he’s keeping a girl he bit on the neck, captive.

Violet circled the counter and disappeared through a set of heavy curtains.

“Come into the dressing lounge, you darling thing. You’ve got a certain je ne ses quoi about you, you know that?” the rounded dressmaker whooped from the other room. Bondy nudged Ava to go on with an encouraging look.

Once she parted the aptly violet curtains into the dressing lounge, she came face to face with a team of seamstresses. They immediately stripped her of each layer down to her corset, petticoat, and cotton shift.

“Little Johnny’s spoken nonstop of you since he knew you’d be arriving. How long have you been here, dear?” the dressmaker asked huskily. She pulled a velvet dress bag from a hook and untied the gold ribbon holding the bag closed. The seamstresses worked to pull the new garments over Ava’s head quickly.

“Uh, just two days so far,” Ava stuttered. She hoped for her sake that answer would line up with Bondy’s story. The approving harrumph she received from the dressmaker made her sigh in relief.

The seamstresses worked in tandem, suiting Ava up in a whole new outfit; the petticoats for this gown were of the finest white linen. The gown itself was a brilliant crimson silk encrusted with thousands of jewels on the bodice. The apron was gold, along with an underlying petticoat. Ava had never tried on anything more glitzy. Or expensive.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Violet asked her. She nodded her head up and down, mouth gawking at the sight in the mirror.

“What’s this gown for?” Ava asked the dressmaker.

“You’ll soon find out,” she smirked, and lit a cigarette.

“Okay then,” Ava muttered under her breath.

“I’m sure Johnny’s loving the attention he’s getting from you, sweety. He was a lonely young man before he met you. Never smiled. Now look at him!” she poked her cane through the curtains and parted them slightly so Ava and she could peek through.

“He does look happy,” Ava replied, watching Bondy look around the room of knick knacks with an inkling of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but he looked content.

The curtains fell back into place, and Violet snapped her fingers. The seamstresses began undressing Ava as quickly as they’d dressed her.

“Surprisingly enough, he got her measurements perfectly correct,” the seamstress whispered to Violet.

“And that’s a man who loves his woman,” Violet howled with laughter. Ava’s cheeks flushed unintentionally.

Redressed and out in the main shop, Ava couldn’t meet Bondy’s eyes.

“Fits like a dream!” Violet stated, and Bondy stepped toward the counter to pay for it. One of the seamstresses brought out the large box, and Violet stamped it with the address of the manor.

“Delivery by tonight,” she winked at Ava, and went to put Bondy’s money away. “Threw in a little something extra for ya, doll!”

*****

“So what you’re saying is,” Ava clarified as she followed Bondy’s footfalls through the cobbled streets, “is that I’m something called sired to you? And that means we’re forever bound together by that energy?”

“Exactly.”

“But why’d you bite me?” she inquired.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well obviously I’m not leaving for a while.”

Bondy pivoted on his heel and stopped her from walking forward any farther. He took both Ava’s hands in his, and the serious gesture took her by surprise. She looked into his baby blue eyes and shivered.

“Usually when a blix bites, for sire purposes… well…” He trailed off, unable to continue. His eyes searched Ava’s. “Let me explain it to you this way. When a wolf sires a cub, it means it’s the cub’s father.”

“Bondy, I am not calling you Daddy.”

“Let me finish! Christ, you’re hilarious,” Bondy snickered, not letting the crude joke go unnoticed. “Like I was saying… when a blix bites and doesn’t kill, it’s a forever bond. You… change. And our bond ties us together forever.”

Ava stood flabbergasted. “Wait, are we ---? Am I actually going to become one of you? Like in the movies?” she trailed off in shock. Her hands began to shake.

“Ava, look. It’s already started. Your eyes are the color of your dress.”

Ava looked down at the blue of her dress, and drew in a deep breath. She saw a shallow well near a cart of flowers and raced to look at her reflection.

“Ava, wait --” he called out behind her.

Despite the ruddy water, and the ripples from the wind, she could still see herself looking down into the water. As she peered closer, she saw it: chocolate brown had brightened to a striking icy blue. The same color the others in the manor had. Her breath hitched. Bondy’s footsteps stopped a ways away from her.

There hadn’t been any confirmation of their existence as monsters yet. Yesterday the bite on her neck was almost funny. It didn’t hurt. It was a joke. Maise concealed it before they went out in the street today. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping this was a twisted dream. The reality hadn’t set in yet. It couldn’t.

But there she was. Changed. Concretely. Blue-eyed.

Her face looked wrong. And she hated it.

She touched her cheeks beneath her eyes and hated them. She stared deep into her foreign eyes. She couldn’t look away. She was disgusted.

“I’m really changing,” she whispered. A sob caught in her throat. “I--”

She felt herself losing control. Her thoughts raced blindly behind her eyes, and her mouth dropped farther and farther open.

I’m a lectoblix.

A monster.

I kill people to stay alive.

I’m living in a house full of monsters who can kill me.

I’m changing.

I’m stuck with a monster for the rest of my life.

I’m stuck being a monster for the rest of my life.

I don’t even know who I was.

They changed me.

And now I’m changing again.

Her mind went blank with panic.

She sat there, on the edge of the well, for too long, soaking the edge of her skirts in the water, not caring about the water damage to the blue silk. She numbly watched the way her silent tears shimmered against the new blue of her eyes, and down her cheeks, tracking through the powder Maise applied earlier. It was all too real now.

Motion behind her made her turn slightly, like a caged animal. But she didn’t care enough to turn all the way around. Her body was numb. No turning back.

A bouquet of red roses was placed by her knees resting on the edge of the well.

Only then did she turn fully. And there he was, standing in shame with a receipt from the flower cart.

“I made a mistake,” Bondy’s face crinkled, with enough frustration to shatter Ava all over again. “Fuck. I’ll take you home.”

******

Ava sat in her room, alone, writing on the expensive stationery supplied in her desk. Shortly after they’d come home, and Bob had seen her waterlogged skirts and tear-tracked cheeks and pulled Bondy aside, calling for Maise.

Ava had been taken upstairs, flowers placed in a vase, and bathed in steaming hot water until it was cold. Now, she sat, pen in hand, wondering how to begin.

I am Ava.

She wrote. She couldn’t remember her last name.

“Ooh!” she exclaimed, and put the pen to the paper once more.

I like to dance. I like cheese pizza. 

I can’t remember any of my family. Or do I even have one? Every time I try to remember something, it’s like a wall is put up. 

She sat, pensieve.

I tried on a red dress today. It was incredibly beautiful. It was like wearing the Crown Jewels, but on my body. The dress is supposed to arrive tonight. Bondy paid for it. I don’t know why he’s spending all of his money on me.

She scrunched up her nose as she remembered the rest of the afternoon.

“Ava! There’s a package for you downstairs!” Maise’s voice called from the walls of the mansion. Ava liked that her voice could travel without her having to materialize in front of her.  She put her pen to the paper once more.

But Bondy and Van are of similar kind. They can’t be too bad... right?

Ava slipped her silk robe on over her shift dress and tied it tightly. The house was cold; she’d have to make her trip downstairs quick.

Jack was already halfway up the stairs with the large box by the time Ava reached the landing.

“Thanks, Jack,” she said happily, and he followed her into her room, placing the box on her bed. He pretended to tip his nonexistent hat and exited.

Ava removed the top of the box, and sighed. The crimson dress was folded impeccably neatly inside. She caressed her hand over it, and decided to lie it flat on the bed. She read the card inside:

To Ava soon-to-be-Bond

From Violet

Hope you enjoy this dress, babydoll! You’re worth every penny it cost him.

P.S. - Wasn’t joking about the surprise.

Ava rummaged through the fluff and tulle of the box, and her hand hit something silky soft, yet hard. She pulled out the garment and gasped.

A crimson red corset, matching the dress, stitched with intertwined gold and black thread. Ava held it up in front of her face, and said, “Oh, baby. That’s hot.”

A low whistle coming from the hall interrupted her admiration for the thing, and she quickly stuffed it back into the box before the offender could see any more of it. Her heart pounded as she realized who was there.

Van stood with a shit-eating grin on his face: guilty, but nevertheless pleased. Ava’s stomach pulled again, and she tried to play it cool.

“Where ya goin’ with that thing?” he laughed, leaning into the door jamb, as casual as ever.

“I have no idea,” Ava whispered, not believing she just pulled that out of the box. In front of him.

“It’s right gorgeous, I say,” he said, resting his hands in his pockets. “You should wear it some time for the lucky fellow.” Ava’s heart quickened, her cheeks beet red.

Van was wearing 21st century clothes: black leather jacket and black denim. “Anyways - came to tell ya we have a meeting at nine. Meet us on the second story. You can dress normally. We’ve enchanted the place for the night with a distractor spell so no stragglers’ll come and ruin it all for us.”

“How do you get to the second story?” Ava said just as he was about to usurp himself from the comfort of the door jamb.

“Oh. Bond didn’t show ya the best parts on the house tour I see? Hmm. I can walk you there? Meet us here at 8:55,” he smiled happily.

“Sounds good.”  

“Okay.” He drug out the O sound, and the short kay! echoed down the hall with him.

******

“What is this place?” she asked Van as they tucked themselves down a secret door under the staircase; it hid behind a painting of Louis the Beloved. Ava knew it wasn’t classified as sneaking around when she had a destination, but it was new, and fun, and she was exploring.

“The second floor, love.” Ava’s heart fluttered at the sound of that.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you ran an operation,” she chuckled.

“I’m a simple guy,” Van said, tongue between his teeth in jest. “I mean what I say.”

“Good to know,” Ava flirted back. She couldn’t help it. She felt that she and Van had clicked from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other.

“Van, how do you know where you’re going? It’s pitch black,” Ava noted. She was able to ascend the flight of stairs before the painting swung shut, but now the halls were swathed in complete darkness.

“Got that good eyesight. Blix stuff,” he replied. Ava shivered. 

Her hand brushed up against something and immediately felt a piercing shock run through it, searing her hand with burning pain that made her cry out loudly in a harrowing shriek.

“What the fuck was that?” she yelled at Van, clutching her hand. It was hot to the touch. They both stood stock still in the hallway. Ava’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness as adrenaline rushed through her veins, and she saw Van’s eyes mirroring her own in confusion.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, scratching the back of his neck. “Just tried to grab your hand to lead the way.” Ava’s slight panting mixed with Van’s nervous breathing in the narrow space.

“I still can barely see…” she said, voice wavering. “And my hand hurts.”

“Hold on... I want to try something,” he said softly. “If it does it again, just... yell.”

Van reached forward slowly and touched Ava’s hand with the most delicate of caresses. Electricity zinged between their fingers and buzzed in their veins. Ava let out a shaky breath. Van’s touch became harder as he laced Ava’s fingers with his. Their eyes never left each other. Ava could feel Van’s cool breath fanning over her face.

“This is weird,” Ava whispered.

“I know,” he responded in a similar tone. “Glad I didn’t shock you again.”

“Why did that happen?” Ava looked up at him, desperate for answers, desperate to feel the reverb of his voice resonate through her body again. It was..... good.

“Guess since you’re sired to Bond, no one else gets to touch you,” he whispered. “Let’s go. They’re expecting us.”

[scriptshrink]

A Day in The Life of My ADHD Brain

LOL. J/K Let me tell you one thing about having a non-linear neuro-type. Every day is different. Some days, you’re on top of the world, ma! You have superpowers! Legit. And other days those same functions that made you feel so AMAZING yesterday, have turned on you and you feel so incapacitated you might as well be hooked up to a ventilator. My brain moves hella fast so sometimes I seem like I’m rambling, but truth is I’ve skipped a few steps in the physical world, so bear with me. You’ll probably notice this post jumps around- and I’ve left it a bit like that to show you what my brain is like. Enjoy. (I have edited it to make it slightly more readable.)

Hi, I’m a 24 year old female with combined ADHD. This means I have both inattentive and hyperactive- impulsive traits. And it’s a toss up what wins out what days. My general symptoms are hyper/hypofocus,(That toss up I was talking about) impulsive actions, difficulty keeping track of time and everything else, and a VERY overactive mind which leads to insomnia. I have co-morbid LD of dyscalcula(dyslexia with numbers) and dysgraphia(difficulties with writing), both of which were only diagnosed in me recently. I combat the dyscalcula by avoiding numbers at all costs and dysgraphia by becoming a writer(LOL). Music with lyrics actually helps me translate from thinking to writing quite a bit, and typing is easier than handwriting(also you can’t see how often I messed up. Typing this post has been nuts. So many spelling errors.). I have my own systems for organizing that drive others mad, but make perfect sense to me. I am currently going to weekly therapy with a clinical psychologist to discuss how I did through out the week and come up with plans for basic life coping. I personally do not medicate, and I hated every minute I was on it as a kid. I don’t recommend it for everyone- it takes a near insane level of stubbornness to make it through the world armed only with coping mechanisms- but more on that later. Resources that have helped me monumentally are ADDitude Magazine and Dr. Lynn Weiss’ book ADD in Adults. It’s an incredibly empowering book for people who have been told since childhood that they are broken in some way. She uses ADD to cover both ADD and ADHD so don’t worry about the differences in the title. She defines it as a non linear brainstyle that you need to learn how to use to your advantage in a world that works in a linear way. By linear and non linear I have come to understand it as linear thinks in progression from A all the way to Z like you sing the song. Non linear will jump from A to M and then maybe D before going to B. Or even start from Q and then go to B, then L before going to A. It’s simply how our brains work, and being forced to think linearly causes some significant distress, as I can imagine you being forced to think in such a “scattered/disordered” way would stress you out. It’s just different, not necessarily bad. Because of this view, she also includes that this is the reason why other cultures don’t even consider ADHD/ADD as a thing, the biggest part of the disorder from her view is when you don’t know how to use your brain because you’ve been taught otherwise. I highly suggest this book for reading if you want to write an ADHD character. I am currently learning how to properly harness my brain.

 ADHD as an adult is weird. Some people do grow out of their symptoms, but if you’re like me, it persists into adulthood, and it gets weird, because now you’re fully formed and conscious of how your brain is messing with you.

I generally swing between hyperfocus and … not. The best term I’ve found for it is hypofocus, but it’s not generally accepted. I like omnifocus but that’s a computer processor so I will describe it: Imagine you’re in a room. A really big room filled with stuff. Like couches and tables and lamps and speakers and rugs and maybe a dog. Nice room, right? Now fill that room to full capacity. Say it’s a party. You have a birds eye view of that party and now, you see everything. Everything. That guy picking his nose, the lint falling from that lady’s dress. A lot of people wearing green tonight. Another lady’s hair is falling out of her pony tail, she messes with it. Someone just tripped over the dog. Something got thrown across the room. You hear everything. The dog yelping and that guy swearing. The six conversations going on around you at once, every word coming in and you pick up the individual words. The thunk of that thrown thing as it hits the wall. And you smell everything. All the food, the beer, that guy who farted, the dog. And you can feel the fibers in your shirt. Every seam, the hairs pulling from your scalp and the ones that flip back around and itch and stab and how soft your shirt is and your left foot is chilled from the door opening but your arms are too hot because you never took off your jacket and it is starting to weigh a lot–

You get the point. All of that all at once. You notice too much, your amygdala stops filtering and your poor brain is trying to consciously process it all while also keeping you upright and breathing and interacting. Luckily this isn’t a constant state for me, it only happens on occasion. When it hits it helps me to do only one thing at a time. (Which is why I chose a job that allows me to do so. I am a massage therapist who works with injury rehab.) Breathing exercises help center me long enough for me to get to a place where I can hide for a moment and ground myself out, usually by bi-lateral stimulation and breathing. Reading also helps. If I don’t manage these attacks I can end up a sobbing mess in a corner because I’m just so overwhelmed. 

Hyperfocus is when I start doing one thing and the whole world just. stops. It’s like when normal brains get into the flow but on ALL the steroids. Someone could die screaming in front of me and I wouldn’t know. My hyperfocus also comes out in a sort of obsessive compulsive way- note: I have not been formally diagnosed obsessive compulsive(though it can be co-morbid with ADHD), so don’t take this as gospel. I get VERY fixated on one thing, be it a physical/emotional feeling or situation. I can’t move on from it- in the moment that thing is ALL THAT MATTERS. It really affects relationships because if I’m upset about something, my brain will treat it as “this is life, there’s nothing else, you’re doomed.” As a result I can get easily depressed- sometimes scary depressed. I have had to contact a suicide hotline more than once over something neuro-typicals would consider a small event.  It goes similar for a happy feeling- you’ve always felt this good! Nothing bad could happen or will happen. Life is Good™. So when something bad does happen, you can crash hard because you just didn’t see it coming. Not to say this is everyday life- these things happen when I am not managing my brain well. Most days you wouldn’t even consider that I could go to these extremes. When it comes to the physical world I get very attached to a specific texture or sound. I even crave certain stimulation at times. Due to poor impulse control I can actually OVER stimulate myself and cause myself an anxiety crash. I will repeat an action over and over and over again, or just fidget. I am never still. Never. I believe this is called Stimming- I know it is more associated with Autism, but is absolutely prevalent in ADHD. Meditation helps me control this, but actually getting to the point of sitting still for meditation is crazy hard. Moving meditations such as yoga or walking are helpful. I really love bi-lateral tapping because it allows me to channel my fidgeting into something anxiety reducing, instead of increasing.

As an adult I have learned to harness the mental energy I get from both hyper/hypofocus and sort of combine them in a way that allows me to notice everything, but still be conscious enough to process and get everything done. It’s definitely playing with fire- I run the risk of physically missing steps because my brain is moving too fast for my body to follow, or spiraling onto either end of the spectrum. When it goes right I get this sort of high- you feel like the freaking fastest, smartest, most efficient you’ve ever been in your LIFE. Hubris for the WIN.

I often forget what I’m saying as I’m saying it because my brain has already moved on. This results in word mixing or switching topics halfway through a sentence or discussion. (I know this doesn’t make for ‘good’ reading, but I’d love to see it normalized, instead of stigmatized. It can get to a point of being a speech impediment.) If I don’t make a to do list, I will completely forget to do something, even simple stuff like eating or showering. Sometimes I think less time has passed than in reality, or vice versa. These things make keeping a consistent schedule a struggle, because I don’t have innate mental cues to go off of. I have to watch the clock like a person obsessed because a hour could pass with me thinking it’s five minutes, or it could be the opposite. I can’t get a ‘feel’ on time passing. I typically have to spend some time before bed telling myself and my husband what I need to get done tomorrow so I can cement it into a long term memory rather than just a working memory. Memory recall is a tricky thing, depending on what part of my memory it is stored in. Either I can remember a frightening amount of detail, or nothing at all. I have to deem something of having importance before it gets quick recall.

BUT! Conversely, I can remember a LOT. I have often been referred to as a walking encyclopedia of weird. I spend a lot of time pouring over things I find interesting and can recall it perfectly for years. I’m that pretty classic example of someone spouting random facts at odd times. Think Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray from Bones. This goes in tandem with the most interesting/awesome/frustrating part of how fast my brain will work. I can put things together faster than most people simply because I’m on fast forward(also impatient. I just need it to get done.) My brain will make leaps and jumps that others might not. Long winded, round about people drive. me. nuts. I want quick and concise up front and leave it up to me if I feel I need more details. I’ll usually extrapolate the details myself. However, you must be direct. Allegory or metaphor only confuses me because there is simply too much for me to draw from it to really understand what it is you want. (Unless all the things are the point.) Every once in a while I go too fast and miss something, but I’ve gotten better over the years. So even if I’m not actually smart by some standards, I can at least come across as very smart by quick in, scramble, add detail, and put out.

My mornings consist of struggling to get out of bed, coffee or green tea to start the day, with the mantra of “a cup of coffee is not breakfast”. Then I usually do some bi-lateral stimulation to help keep my brain from racing too fast, which can result in anxiety. I also have an app that uses visual and auditory bi-lateral stim known as EDMR. I have to watch my diet closely, as I’m in the school of thought that my diet affects how my brain works. I tend to eat high in protein and fats to fuel my brain, I think my brain uses a lot more than that standard 20% of energy your body produces. Amino acids are also central to my diet, especially Omega 3s. Lots and lots of eggs, fish, poultry, and legumes for this girl. My grains of choice tend towards rices and quinoa. We use whole grain breads and tend towards more astringent vegetables. I have to avoid sugary/super salty things because I can easily become hooked in a cycle of only pursuing it like a heroin addict. Starches, chewy foods and soda are my ultimate vice. I usually chug water like crazy.

Some days I have to remind myself what social rules are, or even just remember to interact with people at all. Because of my impulsiveness I say what’s on my mind and have to have a conscious filter. I usually swear like a sailor. I usually come across as pretty blunt. Socializing has been a bane my whole life- I had to teach myself social rules the way other people learn steps to a dance or math problem- I just don’t connect them subconsciously. Social niceties are a consciously practiced thing and I feel really proud when I remember. Just talking with people sometimes is hard because you’re either far away mentally or everything is just– blank. How do I small talk? What is relating to people? What is the socially correct way to respond to this? Sometimes there are just no words.

Impulsive tendencies are the hardest because your fast thinking brain has already rationalized the decision or action you are about to take before the rest of the world is even aware that it’s an option. Long painful decisions feel like a waste of time to me. Sometimes it works out and you’re the quick witted genius, and other times you end up smacking someone in the face. Or your own face. Clumsy is my middle name(no it’s not). Once I also get something that feeds that reward system I have a hard time stopping myself- this goes back to repetitive motions, overindulging in foods or playing Harvest Moon for three weeks straight without remembering to sleep or shower. Yum. 

Motivation is a tricky thing with my brain. I’m very slow to start in on projects- especially mundane things like cleaning or taxes. I have to set a schedule for it and then talk myself up to it. I often wish I had a buddy who I could pay to nag me into doing things all the time. Lot’s of ADHD peeps find apps that help them remember to do things, but I’m way too good at going, “EH.” and not doing it anyways. My parents tried everything on me as a kid- punishment like removing a computer or sending me to sit in a corner did little- I just found something else to do or daydream- and bribery didn’t work either. As I see it, if I didn’t need it before doing the thing, I certainly didn’t need it just because I did the thing. Earning money as an adult results in a lot of the same. Survival instinct and gentle reminders from my husband keep me remembering why I need to actually make money. If it was up to my shitty sense of compensation, I’d be doing only what I want when I want and to hell with if I make anything for it. Lack of motivation can spread to taking care of myself as well- I can procrastinate eating or scheduling an appointment for unhealthy amounts of time simply because I have prioritized organizing my closet or writing my story as more important at the moment. I put off getting my wisdom teeth out for five months- even though it was hitting my trigeminal nerve- simply because I was in the middle of doing something at the time it hit me.

My symptoms are better when I am able to sleep early, but more often than not I do not get to sleep until after midnight and am up around seven or eight. I usually wake up at least once or twice in the night regardless of when I fell asleep. My nervous system is reversed, so calming teas or sleeping pills usually have little to no effect, to sometimes making my insomnia worse. (Rockstar energy drinks can get me hyped, but others like Monster or even Mountain Dew will put me to sleep I still get an erratic heart rate and accompanying anxiety/nausea on occasion. I have to be careful about when I have my caffeine intake and what I take it with. I can completely crash without notice if I don’t. Sometimes that morning cup of coffee turns on me.)

Like I said in the beginning, nothing is consistent in my brain- every day is something new to tackle and some new way of how my brain is looking at the world. Honestly, between what I have experienced and what I have read and heard from Autistic friends, I find A LOT of similarities between my ADHD and Autism. They are different though. I’m not the best one to define exactly what is different physiologically and how it manifests, and I definitely have never been considered to be on the spectrum, but it’s interesting to think about.

Now, it seems like a lot of this post is how my brain makes life hard, so Imma list a few things on how all these traits make a POSITIVE impact on me as a person in a clearer way: I am a very creative problem solver, and can reach conclusions faster than others; I extrapolate information quickly and efficiently, so I can see past surface issues; my omnifocus helps me notice things others have missed, which helps me solve those problems or find lost things; I see things different so I can be fucking hilarious; I often have high energy and plenty to give to others, I’m very empathetic, and am great to come to when you’re feeling down and out; I’m completely open about everything, I don’t see the point in secrets(unless you have specifically told me not to tell others. Then it goes in The Vault™ .) I am also instinctively honest- I have to plan ahead if I’m going to lie, and then it’s a lot of effort, so I am very trustworthy; I don’t hold grudges or hate you for past actions. There’s no point if that doesn’t exist anymore, right? I’m hyper analytical and quick thinking, so I’m hard to trick. Conversely, I am also crazy trusting- I have an honest hard time believing people can be malicious when I’m not actively being messed with, even after the event is over I will still trust someone because I have straight up forgiven and forgotten. I can learn a lot of very varied things, am multi disciplined, I also learn scary fast(unless it’s maths). Surprisingly, my pattern recognition is awesome(unless numbers). I tend to be very down to earth. I only do things because I want to- I am never pressured into doing things I don’t want to do- I’ll FIGHT YOU if I have to, which is another reason I am hard to take advantage of. We ADHD people often have the biggest damn hearts- we’ll sit down and cry with a complete stranger if they need crying with. When I do get things done, I get them done FAST. Cuz ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.

That should be all, I think! If you have any questions about what life with my LD is like or any further questions about what my brain is like, if you want info on what being a kid with ADHD was like, feel free to ask away! I’d love to see more complex ADHD characters in stories, especially females acknowledged as having ADHD. It absolutely is NOT just a male neuro-type, and is not just hyperactive/disruptive kids. (I really love all the Percy Jackson series books- they were just as empowering as Uncle Rick intended them to be, but I do feel he didn’t quite portray ADD/ADHD properly, especially in later books.) While we are defined as having a ‘disorder’, and some days are a struggle, I genuinely think that I am better for having my brain this way and wouldn’t change it for anything, and want the world to see how badass we can be.

I thought Daisy Wick from Bones is in my opinion a GREAT example of a female with adult ADHD in tv- her whole arc and how the other characters interacted with her included. I felt it really reflected my own experiences.