#i might be going through old stuff as a part of the healing process

[peppermintquartz]

I'm feeling bitchily critical today so. Let's get critical.

Reasons why Season 8 of 911 (so far) sucks:

Bobby and Athena are aimless

They have no house. The logical development is for them to look for one, one for their future. That is theirs. Where are the house hunting woes? The disageeements and compromises? Are they ever going to have a chance to find a place they both love? Or build one, even?

Athena's job description is all over the place

She's giving school talks. She's conducting traffic stops. She's escorting a prisoner across state lines. She is mentoring new officers. She's a goddamn Sergeant but what is her job scope? Every single thing requiring the presence of police, apparently!

Hen and Karen have little direction for growth

The Mara adoption issue could have brought out more of their relationship, developed them in terms of relying on each other through a difficult time. The storyline with Ortiz could have really delved into the struggles of the foster care system, and how Hen and Karen broke rules designed to protect the kids. (Seriously, if a child is removed from a foster family, it's logical not allowing the foster parents to meet the child that was removed for the safety of the child). Where was the appeal to Ortiz as a mother? Where was the struggle? Where is the tension between the Wilsons and the Hans? Instead there was a Deux Ex Gerrard. And I am not even gonna start on the whole "why didn't you take leave for Halloween" shit, that stuff should have been settled when Denny was a baby. What are their next steps? Same old same old?

Gerrard is a joke

An established bigot and racist returns. He could have been a great way to show how the 118 has grown beyond him and his bullying. Instead they're cowed by him, and lets him yell at Buck? Whatever happened to the "who cares" courage in Season 7? And he gets the reward of his dream job?

Eddie is still not healed

He emotionally cheated on his girlfriend with his dead wife's doppelganger. Has he even processed what that actually means? No! His son moved to Texas. Has he coped with the loneliness in his house? Who knows? Certainly not the audience, since we don't see him go to therapy or, hell, have a full breakdown! He confides in people who aren't his friends, let alone his so-called best friend! Bobby gave him a prayer book but we don't even hear Eddie rage at a God who keeps putting devastation and challenges in his way. What wa the point of the prayer book then? He just danced in his underwear and somehow that made him smile and now he's moving across the country and, what, giving up on his home and his job? Is that really healing, Edmundo Díaz? Or are you just running from the problem again?

Chimney has no internal or external motivation

He was providing for Mara for a few months. Was he stressed about it? Did he think about seeking a promotion for a higher salary? Also, he is an immigrant. Does that influence how he teaches Jee? Has he and Maddie, white suburban raised Maddie, ever discussed the potential problems Jee might face? Or whether they wanna include some Korean culture in Jee's education, since they gave her a Korean name? Does he ever think about any of these issues? Is he at all conflicted? What does Chimney want?

Maddie

She was the one who wanted to meet Tommy. Has she done so outside of the wedding? What was her opinion of him? Is Maddie content to stay in Dispatch in the exact same position? Has she any career ambition? And about Jee: does she never think about the Korean part of Jee? Connecting to her own culture? Learning Korean, maybe? That would have been interesting because perhaps she wants her daughter to connect to that part of her roots but Chimney doesn't, for his own reasons. Also, if she wants to have a second kid, why didn't she discuss it with Chimney outright before the pregnancy? Was she not taking the pill? Were they careless again? What would she do if Chimney didn't want a second child? Abort? Given how the first pregnancy was traumatic for the whole family, including her brother, this development is showing her to be pretty self-centered, frankly. I don't know this Maddie. She's not the same one that gave Buck her Jeep to escape, knowing that she'll be hurt by an abusive husband.

Brad

Why is airtime devoted to a character that is barely connected to the 118? What is the reason behind giving him so much focus? Is he supposed to quit acting and become a firefighter or something? What is the rationale for his existence?

.

.

And I haven't even touched on Buck or Tommy.

[chiki-chiki-ahh]

shit i was insane for at 17yo:

THIS

[cosmiclion]

Think I finlly have an idea of what I want to do with Alois in my Familiar AU, might make more changes but this is more a brainstorm so bear with me 🙏 (Discussions of some canon-typical dark stuff under the cut plus it got a bit long lmao).

What if, instead of directly being taken from the village by the head of the Trancy estate, he was kidnapped by the same people who kidnapped the twins, at around the same time (meaning he was 6 years old), who then sold him to that pervert. Before being sold he met the twins and formed a brief friendship with them while they tried to comfort each other.

His parents were still alive, and little Luka (I think it's not clear what their age difference was but I don't think more than three years) grew up hearing about his big bro. When both parents died he was left alone to suffer the mistreatment of the villagers.

The contract with Hannah goes the same as in canon, but when she's about to take his soul he begs her to find his brother and protect him, as a last wish. She promises she'll do it and feels bound to that promise.

Since Alois was way younger when he got him, instead of outright abusing him the man grooms him from the beginning and the boy grows up thinking such behavior is normal and not knowing any better. He also inherits the estate.

Somehow Hannah finally finds him. She passes as a maid and infiltrates the estate and, after earning the man's trust, one night she simply makes him die in his sleep. She then reveals herself as a demon to Alois and tells him she's been sent by his brother, but Alois hates her for killing who he thinks is the only person who has ever loved him. However he can't get rid of her no matter what he does.

Eventually she earns his trust too (mainly because she just won't go away) and, with time and patience, helps him understand that what that man did to him was not, in fact, love and was plain wrong. She also helps him understand and process his trauma and try to heal (she's not really introverted and subservient in this AU, and acts more as a firm but patient mother).

By the time he's 13 he's better adjusted, although still having issues (mainly with attachment) and still having a similar personality to in canon (with some parts of it very mellowed out). Hannah has officially become his demonic foster parent, thus mirroring Sebas and Ciel. She decides he could try going to Weston.

OCiel studies at Weston in this verse too. When he starts studying he and Alois meet again. They remember each other but Ciel doesn't tell him he's not really Ciel, just that his brother died, and none tells the other what they really went through.

Alois has tried to make friends since he started at Weston, but he can be too overbearing and exhausting to be around, sometimes just unnerving, and has a bad habit of not respecting people's boundaries. The other boys (at least most of them) are polite and civil with him and will work with him if school activities require it, but they try not to interact with him too much.

While Ciel and Alos's personalities couldn't be any more different, the former still offers his friendship to the latter (in his own way), gets the other boys to really know Alois, and even helps Alois work on himself more and learn to get close to people without scaring them away (he might have shouted at him a couple of times when he got too clingy but that's part of the learning process ✌️).

Alois didn't remember his real name and Ciel only remembered him saying he was called Jim when they first met. Either way Alois has fully embraced his new name and decided to create his own legacy.

His biggest fear is being abandoned. His second biggest fear is people finding out about his past and being disgusted by him.

I haven't decided yet if Hannah reveals to Alois that she took Luka's soul or if she tells him he simply died. I need to think how it'd go either way.

Also still haven't fully decided what to do with Claude and the triplets or if to include them at all. Maybe I'll include them but I'll make them Just Be There for no reason bc it'd be funny.

[oneangstymotherfucker]

tw csa mention / k!nk mention

Something that gets to me about the anti mindset is that it doesn't seem to be able to account for the fact that we might be reading age-gap stuff from the younger person's perspective. Why do they always assume otherwise? (Of course it's okay if you do, but for this post im talking about the other side).

The truth is, sexuality cannot be completely severed from childhood experiences. From what I've read, most kinks and interests develop alongside the rest of our personality(ies). This is very normal.

It is also very normal to engage in 'pleasure seeking' as a child. Something feels nice on your body, so you keep doing it. I started when I was about six, and every therapist I've talked to has said that is normal.

The age during which you start understanding your bonds and relationships to other people is also very important, and since it affects your development and the rest of your life, going back to those ideas and looking at them can be very healing.

So it makes sense why anyone would be interested in metaphorically 'going back' to those times in their lives and exploring what they didn't have words or capacity to understand back then. Real children do not have the capacity to understand or cope with sex. They are not ready, and it would cause them harm. Maybe it did cause you harm. Fictional children are not real children. Fictional children are an extension of our own inner child, a way for us to process what we couldn't then now that we are safe and have more control of our lives. It doesn't undo the harm, but it can help you sort it out and move on from it.

So yeah, all of this is even more important if you have been hurt. I write about the ages 6-12 a lot because that's around the time I was hurt. It's not that im 'stuck there' or 'fetishizing' it (you can't 'fetishize' your own trauma) - I am doing work there. I am reclaiming it there. I am making sure the needy little 12 year old in me is safe and happy.

But as for me and myself- I was still afraid. I might always be. For a long time I couldn't even approach sexuality. When I finally did it was talking to old men online, trying to get them to believe I was much younger than I was, playing with them and seeing what they would say. That was what felt safe. The only 'part' of me that felt safe being sexual was the part that was still a kid.

I don't cope like that anymore. I found a way that I like better, that is more under my control and is way less risky to myself and the potential people i was talking to. And that is writing fiction!!!!

Through fiction I can set up places where all of me feels safe (even if it might not look safe to you or would not be safe in the real world!). I can create scenarios where I can work through my fears, provide comfort and safety, and make a good place for my kid self to figure things out (and yes, get off).

And it has been helping! We've been feeling safer and more confident since we started writing, and we've learned so much about ourselves and how to feel safe.

I studied psychology for four years. There isn't really terminology for a 'bad coping mechanism'. There is the idea of maladaptive coping mechanisms, but here's the thing- what makes a coping mechanism maladaptive is wether it causes more harm than good in the person's life on a case by case basis.

The idea that a random stranger thinks they have the authority over your life and your unique psychology to tell you that you are hurting yourself with your coping mechanisms is ridiculous. No stranger online knows - or should know - the details of your trauma or life. They have no say in what is good for you. If you are worried something might be hurting you or holding you back, that is for you and maybe a trusted professional to figure out. It is certianly not for some squicked teenager or anyone else online to dictate.

Also, sexuality and brains are really complicated. You don't need trauma (or to remember it) in order to enjoy something. You're allowed to ship any ship for any reason. Bonus points if one of the reasons is because it makes you happy, because you deserve to be happy!

All ships are just roleplays. All fics are just scenes. When I write I put up tags to let people know what's in the scene. I hold on good faith that they are reading the tags, and they that I am not tagging incorrectly. I give them my scene, and if they at any point don't like what I'm doing, they stop reading. It is really very simple!!!

Finally, if you do have sexual trauma, you don't ever have to 'sterilize' it or be 'pure' about it. It's okay to have leftover feelings and kinks and interests that might seem backwards or not make sense to other people. You don't have to conform to a bullshit 'good survivor' image of some saintly person who put all that behind them and avoids avoids avoids like a pure little virgin mary.

You can look at it if you want to. You can pull it apart with your hands, you can reclaim it and get off to it if you want to, you can share it with consenting others and let them get off to it too. That is all okay and good. That is just being human. You are okay.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: VII

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: Maki and Tullia find out about your feelings and offer advice. A trip to Kyoto yields a confession of the sort you were not prepared to give.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.0k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: feel free to let me know if the pacing sucks i’m sorry

Ever since your conversation with Toge, you had been jumpy around Yuta, running away whenever he tried to talk to you, words clipped and any attempts on his part to spend time with you quickly rebuffed. It was all too much to process, and you did not understand how to, so you just avoided the situation entirely. He gave up trying to be with you rather quickly, leaving you to cling to Maki and pretend like you couldn’t feel his kicked-puppy gaze from across the room.

It got to the point where even Maki and Tullia realized something was up. They cornered you one day after class, when Toge and Panda had taken Yuta to buy some ice cream to cheer him up. Toge must’ve known the reason behind your odd behavior and did not question it, though when you looked closer, his violet eyes reflected a sort of quiet sadness at the turn of events.

“So, what’s up with you?” Tullia said, crossing her arms.

“This feels like an intervention,” you said nervously.

“It is,” Maki informed you. “Everyone’s vibes are off lately, and I think you have something to do with it. Yuta constantly looks like he’s going to cry — even more than he used to, that is, and Toge seems pretty concerned about something, although he refuses to tell either of us what’s wrong. Panda’s in on it, too, he keeps glancing over at you and sighing, so Tullia and I feel a little left out!”

“Yuta…looks like he’s going to cry?” you said. That hadn’t been your intention; you didn’t want to hurt him. Actually, it was somewhat the opposite — you were subconsciously distancing yourself from him to avoid ruining things between you both.

“Rejection does that to a person,” Tullia said. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You found out he likes you and had to let him down gently, and now things are awkward.”

“Uh, you’re a little off the mark,” you said. “He likes me?”

“Are you actually dumb? Of course he likes you,” Maki said. You buried your face in your hands. Yuta liking you — it had never even crossed your mind that he might feel the same as you did. This complicated things so much that it made your head spin. Before, it had been alright that you liked him, because at least there was no chance of anything happening outside of your silly little daydreams. But if Maki and Tullia were right, then there was a possibility.

“Oh, no,” you groaned.

“I don’t think he’ll make a move,” Tullia assured you.

“That’s not the problem!” you said. “That’s not why I’m avoiding him! It’s just that — it’s just that —”

“What? It can’t be anything too bad,” Maki said. “We’re your best friends, you can tell us whatever it is. You know I have no loyalty to anyone but you.”

“And I’m American!” Tullia piped in cheerfully.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Maki said.

“I have no idea how any of this clan politics stuff works. You’re my first friend in this entire country; of course I’m not going to judge you or rat you out or anything. Plus, guaranteed I’ve heard worse — I knew this one dude at my old school with a massive foot fetish. It’s not that you have a foot fetish, right? Anything else, I can handle,” she said.

“Yuta,” you said, looking through your fingers at them. “I…like Yuta.”

“Well, so do I! He’s a stand-up guy, really very sweet. Who doesn’t like Yuta?” Tullia said.

“Even I think Yuta’s pretty tolerable. Why is this crisis-inducing?” Maki said. You slapped your palm against your forehead.

“No! I like him the way you guys think he likes me!” you hissed. They were silent, Tullia’s mouth forming an ‘o’ shape and Maki rapidly blinking before cleaning her glasses.

“You mean to say that you…have a crush…on Yuta Okkotsu?” Maki said once she had put her glasses back on.

“Not so loudly!” you said, “And yes. I talked to Toge about it.”

“If Toge thinks you do, then he’s probably right,” Tullia said.

“He’s pretty smart,” Maki agreed.

“But, see, that’s where the problem comes from! I can’t be around him, not when I have feelings for him. I’m engaged! All of this just spells disaster, for both of us. If the higher ups find out, I’ll be sent back to my family home and locked away there until my wedding to Noritoshi. If Yuta finds out, he might hate me. If Gojo finds out, he’ll start crying about how Megumi, whoever that is, has lost his chance!” you said.

“Yikes, worst possible outcome,” Tullia said with a wince.

“Right, no one deserves to have Gojo trying to set them up,” Maki agreed.

“I know!” you said.

“So. You really like him, huh? I guess your strategy is sound, then. Avoid him until you’re over it. Didn’t you used to have a crush on Toge at one point? But you moved on,” Maki said.

“It shouldn’t be too hard. He’s not very persistent in trying to get your attention. I think he got the hint,” Tullia said.

“And Tullia and I will make sure to always be your partner for things! If Gojo tries to complain, we’ll make a fuss,” Maki said.

“Yeah, I’ll call him sexist! Or I can say that I need your support. Because I’m from a different country and all,” Tullia said.

“Maybe go with that before accusing him of discrimination,” Maki said. Your eyes filled with tears, and you launched forwards, grabbing the two of them in a hug.

“Thank you both so much. I should’ve told you ages ago,” you said.

“Nah, I would’ve bullied you,” Maki said. “Only reason I’m not right now is because you’re obviously distressed, and I’m not about to add to your problems.”

“I wouldn’t have bullied you, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to offer much help by myself. I’m not really good with the whole ‘relationship’ thing,” Tullia said.

“I just really, really like him. I don’t want to be unfaithful, but how can I just get over him in the blink of an eye? I don’t want to marry Noritoshi if it means leaving Yuta, but marrying well is the one thing I can do for my family,” you said.

“Like I said earlier, just marry me,” Maki said, tossing her hair, “I won’t mind your infidelity. As long as you allow me my dalliances, too.”

“And for the present moment…I guess this comes down to a choice. Either road is going to be hard, so it’s a matter of what you’re willing to endure and whose side you’re willing to endure it by,” Tullia said.

“Ostracization from the higher ups or giving up your happiness? Yuta or Noritoshi? You’ll have to weigh the options and decide what you want. Just know that even if the rest of society turns its back on you, you’ll always have us,” Maki said.

“That’s a promise,” Tullia agreed, “We’re your classmates. We’re not going to choose a bunch of stuffy old men over you, not hardly.”

Although they had not solved any of your problems, necessarily, talking to Maki and Tullia made you feel a lot better about the state of your affairs. At least you could be assured that you’d have them on your side, and Tullia had raised a good point in that no matter which path you chose, you’d be miserable, one way or another. As she had said, it was a matter of which misery you preferred, and although you did not want to think about it at the present moment, it was comforting to note that you had a way to reason through the situation.

A few days after your conversation with the two girls, you were eating breakfast with them when Gojo sprinted into the dining hall, holding two cream-colored envelopes and cackling maniacally.

“This can’t be good,” Maki said as he skidded to a stop in front of you and handed you one of the envelopes.

“What’s this?” you said, inspecting it curiously.

“An invitation!” he said, throwing his arms around you in a hug. You fell backwards from the force of it before awkwardly hugging him back. Maki pretended to gag at his exuberance, and Tullia seemed amused as well, though she was far more collected than Maki.

“For what?” you said.

“You, Miss Y/N L/N, are going to compete in the Sister School Goodwill Exchange Event!” he said, pulling away and beaming at you, evidently expecting you to be equally as excited as he was. Instead, your jaw dropped, the letter slipping through your fingers.

“Me? But I’m not in my second year yet! I thought only the second and third years competed?” you said.

“Traditionally, yes, but this year, in order to make it fair, the Tokyo school is only sending two first-year students to compete!” Gojo said.

“And how many will Kyoto have?” Maki said.

“Six!” Gojo said cheerfully.

“Six?” you screeched. “How the hell is two against six fair? Especially when I’m one of the two? There’s no way I can fight against someone like Mai Zenin or Aoi Todo!”

“You’re actually going as a way to make the fight less disbalanced in our favor, actually,” Gojo said, “It’d be a slaughter otherwise, but we’re hoping your presence is enough to calm your partner down to the point that the event is at least a little more even.”

“Who’s my partner? Maki? I don’t think even I could calm her down,” you said.

“Very funny,” Maki said. “You’re right, though.”

“Nope! It’s our resident special-grade sorcerer, Yuta Okkotsu!” Gojo said.

There was a silence in which the three of you all had very different reactions. Like a snake coiling in your stomach, your intestines began to twist with horror at the implications. Maki was uncharacteristically sympathetic, frowning softly and resting her hand on your shoulder. In contrast, it seemed this was finally enough to break Tullia’s composure as she dissolved into howling laughter.

“You mean to say that Yuta and I will be competing together? Just us two?” you said.

“That’s right! I’m sure that you’ll bring home the win for our school. We suffered an embarrassing defeat last year, which is why the event is being held in Kyoto, but I have confidence that you and Yuta can reclaim my — our good name. We will be victorious! Go Tokyo!” Gojo said, high-fiving you and then dashing off, presumably to give Yuta his invitation and the same strangely inspirational speech he had just given you.

“Well, shit. You’re fucked,” Tullia said between giggles, wiping at the tears of mirth gathering in the corners of her eyes.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Maki said, “You’ll see him and Noritoshi at the same time. It might make it easier to decide which you want.”

“This is many things, Maki, but good is not one of them,” you said with a groan, “I think Tullia’s right. I’m not making it out of this event alive.”

“Just make sure to take my sister down before you go,” Maki said. You shrugged.

“I don’t know if I can, but I’ll do my best,” you said. If Mai was anything like Maki, there was no way you could even land a hit on her, let alone actually beat her. You feared you’d probably end up relying on Yuta the entire time, being something of a deadweight — which was not only embarrassing but also unfair to him. You would be like a crutch, though then again, this was supposedly the reason you had been selected to compete in the first place. You ground your teeth in frustration, but you knew there was nothing you could do about it but train and hope you were good enough to not drag Yuta down too much.

“You can, and you tell her exactly who taught you once you have,” Maki said.

“Have faith in yourself,” Tullia agreed, “You’re useless in a straight out brawl —”

“That’s not very confidence boosting,” you muttered.

“Let me finish!” she said. “Like I was saying, it’s true that if things come to blows, you’re probably not going to be much help. But sheer physical strength isn’t the only way to win a fight; you’re way more clever than you give yourself credit for, and honestly? You’re no slacker in the power department, either. I’m willing to bet you’re going to be of more use to Yuta than the higher ups think.”

“They probably still believe you to be the frail, delicate girl who is the L/N clan’s biggest failure. This is your chance to prove them wrong, to prove that you’re worth more than they realize. Show them that you don’t need to be a healer to be of worth; show them that you are a sorcerer,” Maki said. It was the sort of chance Maki had longed for for probably her entire life. You were being ungrateful to scorn it just because of your unresolved feelings for Yuta. This was bigger than him — the entire jujutsu society would have its eyes on you, and you could not afford to come off as weak.

“And ignore Yuta. Imagine him as a robot sent to help you if you must; oh, or like a scarecrow!” Tullia said.

“This isn’t Wizard of Oz,” you said dryly.

“Really, though, don’t focus on your crush or whatever. He’s there to support you in kicking the Kyoto students’ asses. Nothing more and nothing less,” Tullia said.

“That’s a good way of looking at it,” Maki said approvingly, “You’re not strong enough to take them all on by yourself, so you’ll definitely need his help, but you don’t want to get into some weird dilemma in the middle of a fight. Don’t assign him any more significance than as a tool; if you do, you run the risk of complicating things when they’re already far too complicated.”

“Then I’ll do as you both say,” you said with a determined nod. “And I’ll beat Mai for you, Maki.”

“It won’t be the same as if I do it myself,” Maki lamented, “But you’re the only one I trust to do it in my stead.”

“I won’t let you down,” you promised.

Because they were not competing, Maki, Tullia, Panda, and Toge had to stay back at the school, while Gojo, Ijichi, and Principal Yaga took you and Yuta to Kyoto. Gojo had bullied Kento Nanami into acting as their substitute teacher, which he did not seem thrilled about, and as you drove away, you almost wished you were staying back — if only to see the seven-three sorcerer at work. Tullia swore she’d record his lectures for you, something you said you’d hold her to.

Principal Yaga and Gojo were in a separate car, Yaga insisting that he be the one to drive Gojo to ensure that he did not magically disappear. It seemed that the principal was the only one Gojo actually respected; whether it was because he was his boss or because of some holdover from Gojo’s own student days, you did not know.

Ijichi allowed you to play your own music in the car, though he did have noise-cancelling headphones on as he drove, which meant he was just tuning everything out. It left you free to blast your favorite songs and try to not talk to Yuta, who sat beside you with his hands clasped in his lap.

He did not try to talk to you, either, but he would stare mournfully at you, though every time your eyes flicked to meet his, he’d look away. He had only just begun to come out of his shell when you had discovered the extent of your feelings for him, and now it seemed your silent treatment was sending him scuttling backwards to the safety of his shyness.

“I’m not mad at you,” you said, immediately regretting it even as you did. “Yuta. I’m not, really. You haven’t done anything wrong, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“You haven’t been talking to me,” he pointed out softly. “If I didn’t offend you in some way, then why?”

Because talking to him made you want to rip your hair out. Because it’s driving you insane that you like him so much but you’re promised to another.

“It’s a personal issue. Nothing you can change,” you said.

“So you’re going to keep avoiding me?” he said.

“Not during the event. We have to work together for it,” you said. He nodded, not at your answer but at the implied rest of it.

“I’ll do my best to not bother you. I’m sorry, by the way, if I did do something and you just don’t want to seem rude by bringing it up,” he said.

“You didn’t do anything,” you repeated. “I’m the one that messed up.”

“Oh,” he said, “I see.”

He did not inquire further, perhaps content that you had even spoken to him at all. And though you shouldn’t, you were internally rejoicing at the conversation. It was the most you had spoken to him in so long, and you had missed him so much, missed his quiet, kind mannerisms, the way he always lit up when talking to you, the soft blush that painted his cheeks whenever you said something, said anything.

Ijichi stopped the car in front of the school, letting you get your bags out before zooming away. You were about to start rolling your suitcase inside when it was suddenly snatched from you, and you found yourself facing a large, tall man with biceps the size of your head and more abs than you thought were possible. There was a scar on his face, and his dark hair was tied tightly back, a grin on his face as he hefted your suitcase in the air.

“Pretty lady, you should never have to break a sweat by doing something as mundane as dealing with luggage,” he said with a bow.

“Um, thanks, but I wasn’t really sweating about it. I didn’t pack that much,” you said. He did not acknowledge the response, instead offering you his hand.

“The name’s Aoi Todo! And who might you be?” he said.

“Y/N L/N,” you said politely, taking it and shaking it once, twice. From beside you, Yuta watched the interaction.

“Ah! Then this must be Okkotsu!” Todo said, immediately dropping your hand and pointing at Yuta.

“Yes, that’s Yuta,” you said. Yuta waved slightly, though his eyes were wide at Todo’s sheer bulk. He was huge, towering over both of you in an inhuman way. Yuta’s figure was slender and slight when compared to him, and once again you wondered how the two of you were supposed to take on Todo and five of his classmates.

“Yuta Okkotsu! I only have one question for you, and you better answer satisfactorily, or else I’ll kill you before the exchange event can even begin!” Todo thundered.

“Please don’t,” Yuta said.

“What kind of woman is your type?”

“What?” you said. “Why would you ask him that?”

Todo clasped his hands together, looking altogether far too serious, considering the ridiculousness of his question. He was looking at you, but his gaze was a thousand universes away as he began to rhapsodize.

“Well, it’s simple, really. There’s so much to be learned about a man just from the type of woman he’s into! A boring taste in women indicates a boring man; the inverse is also true. An eclectic or spicy taste in women means that the man himself will be truly someone to be respected!” Todo explained.

“And who’s to decide what sort of women are boring and which are spicy or eclectic, hm?” you snapped, pulling out your needles and pointing them at him threateningly.

“Me, of course! For instance, my type is tall women with big asses,” Todo said.

“How demeaning! And anyways, I doubt you’ve ever felt the touch of any woman, tall with a big ass or not, so how can you be sure that’s what you like?” you said. Todo contemplated this before shrugging, not even impacted by what you had said.

“It’s something I know in my heart. So how about it, Okkotsu? What’s your type?” he said. You scowled and were about to use your technique on Todo when Yuta ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Er, Y/N is,” he said. You froze in place, unsure of if you had heard him correctly. Crystal tears began to pour down Todo’s cheeks as he tilted his head back, trying to stem their flow — though he was entirely unsuccessful.

“What?” you said. Yuta turned a bright red, as if he had not realized you were standing right next to him.

“Not — not actually you! Just, like, a girl like you. Preferably with your looks. And personality. But not you!” he assured you.

“What?” you said again. “So…you do or don’t like me?”

“Don’t!” he said, far too quickly for him to have been telling the truth.

“I can’t believe it!” Todo shouted, his voice echoing.

“I can’t, either,” you said, though far more quietly.

“I’ve finally found it — a taste even more thrilling than mine! Okkotsu, you’re telling me you’re into married women?” Todo said.

“I’m not married yet,” you reminded him. Yuta winced as if just remembering this particular problem before shaking his head.

“No, I’m not —” he began before Todo cut him off.

“You truly are a worthy opponent! I look forward to competing against you in the exchange event. Let’s give it our all!” Todo said before springing away. You gaped at his receding form.

“Give me back my luggage!” you screamed, though he was gone before the words left your lips, taking your suitcase with him. You were so hot with rage that you’d not be surprised if there was steam pouring out of your nose and ears, and you were about to shake your fist in his general direction when you heard a smooth, familiar voice.

“I thought I heard Todo making a fuss about something. I should’ve realized it was your arrival,” Noritoshi said. Your anger evaporated instantly at the sight of him, and you fairly flew in your haste to throw your arms around him in a hug.

“Noritoshi!” you said. He was still, after all, your friend — though your feelings for him were nothing of the romantic kind, you cared about him. And it was obvious he felt the same, hugging you back with the same affection you showed him.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you murmured. He still smelled like ylang-ylang, and it was a homecoming in a way. You were no longer the same girl you had been the last time you had seen him in person, but at the same time, had you even changed at all? “What about you?”

“Busy trying to get this event set up. Principal Gakuganji and Iori have been stressing making everything perfect; I believe Iori wants to show Gojo that her school is better than his, in more ways than one,” he said.

“Those two have always had that rivalry, haven’t they?” you said. You had known about the hatred that Utahime Iori held for Gojo even back before you had become a sorcerer proper; it was somewhat infamous. Gojo, for his part, found it a good pastime to egg her on more, which was in character enough that you were not surprised by it.

“Of course,” Noritoshi said, “Anyways, what did Todo do this time?”

“Asked Yuta about his taste in women and then stole my luggage,” you said.

“Ah, that sounds like him. I’ll get Mai to get it back for you; the two of them are friends of a sort,” he said before letting you go and dipping his head at Yuta, who in contrast to his earlier state was now as white as a sheet. “Sorry he harassed you, too. I promise the rest of us are a little bit more normal. Certainly, he’s the only one interested in the type of women that people prefer.”

“That’s — that’s good!” Yuta squeaked. Remembering his answer to the question, you were inclined to agree with him.

“Has he asked you what your type is?” you said. Noritoshi cocked his head at you.

“He asks everyone, and I’m no exception. I told him I’m engaged, and he left me alone about it after that. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Just wondering. Anyways, it’s been a bit of a long car ride, so do you think you could show us to our rooms? I think that both Yuta and I would appreciate a chance to sit down,” you said.

“Of course. Follow me — though, did you say rooms? There’s only one,” Noritoshi said.

“Huh?” Yuta said. “You mean we have to…share?”

“Traditionally, the girls share with the girls and the boys share with the boys, but because there’s only the two of you, Iori decided to be frugal and put you two in a dorm together — there’s going to be a lot of visitors coming to watch the event, so we need every inch of space we can get. Are you uncomfortable with that? Iori thought it’d be okay, since Y/N’s engaged to me, so it’s not like anything inappropriate will happen,” Noritoshi said.

You exchanged looks with Yuta behind Noritoshi’s back. The guilt you felt was reflected in his own expression, though you knew he probably didn’t understand why you felt guilty. But it remained that you hardly deserved Noritoshi’s trust, not when you had been talking to Maki and Tullia only the other day about how attracted you felt to Yuta.

“I just thought that she would’ve shared a room with you, if anyone,” Yuta said.

“Iori was too worried about Gojo instructing her to sabotage me while I slept or something to allow it. If you’re really bothered by the prospect, you can share with Gojo and Y/N can have her own room,” Noritoshi said.

“It’s fine! I’m fine, as long as Y/N’s okay with it,” Yuta said. This was your chance; nobody would fault you for saying no, for saying you didn’t want to sleep in the same room as another man. It might actually win you favor with the higher ups, proving your loyalty to your future husband and to their demands. Best of all, it would mean time away from Yuta, and wasn’t that what you, Maki, and Tullia had decided you needed?

“It’s perfectly alright with me,” you said, “I’m sure Yuta will be a good roommate.”

“That’s settled, then. We’re not much farther; I made sure that you two at least got a nice room, to make up for having to share,” Noritoshi said.

“That was considerate of you,” Yuta said. Noritoshi shrugged.

“Anything for my fiancé,” he said, nudging you in the side. You rolled your eyes.

“What a generous man you are. How grateful I am to be marrying you,” you said.

“I mean, if you want a tiny first-year dorm, then that can be arranged. As it is, you’re both sharing a third-year dorm, so you’ll have a bathroom and sitting area inside of the suite. But it’s up to you, darling,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, dearest, you’re so thoughtful for leaving the choice up to me!” you said, just as mockingly. Teasing one another was about the only time you used pet names; otherwise, it was too uncomfortably close to an actual relationship for the both of you. “I think Yuta and I will stick with the nicer option.”

“No surprise,” he said, patting you on the head. “Here we are. Mai will be by soon, once she’s gotten your things from Todo. I trust you won’t need help getting unpacked?”

“We’re not children. We’ll be fine,” you said.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll take my leave. I shall see you when it comes time for the event,” he said.

“Be prepared to taste defeat, Noritoshi. You’re not ready to face Yuta and I!” you said.

“Oh? Words won’t be enough to frighten me. I hope that you are able to back your fancy speech up — for your sake, of course. Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you just because we are to be wed,” he said, arching a brow.

“And the same goes for me,” you said with a smirk, “In fact, I think it’ll only motivate me to go harder.”

“I look forward to it. And Yuta — I am saying this not as your competition, but rather as Y/N’s future husband: please look out for her as much as I’m sure she’ll look out for you,” Noritoshi said.

“I will,” Yuta said seriously, “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

“Big promises,” Noritoshi said, and though he sounded casual, there was a hint of sharp recognition to his voice. “We’ll see how tomorrow goes, I suppose.”

Yuta nodded. “I suppose we will.”

The room you had been assigned to share with Yuta was nice, though a little bland. Two twin beds with about five feet of space between them were pushed against one wall, and there was a set of two steps that led into a small sitting area, with a couple of armchairs, a proper couch, a coffee table, and a television. There were two doors; one was a closet, and the other led to the spacious bathroom.

Once you were finished poking around the room, you turned to Yuta, who was standing unsurely in the entrance, simply watching you inspect the space.

“It’s good. Do you care which bed you take?” you said.

“The one closer to the door,” he said, walking in and throwing himself face-down onto the cushiony surface before you could respond. “Why’d you say you’re okay with staying together?”

“I wanted to,” you said.

“Yeah, obviously, but why? Your fiancé was right there, he would’ve bailed you out,” he said. You frowned.

“I’ve grown tired of my fiancé bailing me out. I would like to make at least some of my own decisions,” you said shortly. Yuta hummed in thought.

“Makes sense.”

“Thanks.”

The following silence was only broken by a light knock on your door. You opened it and were met with Mai Zenin, who beamed at the sight of you. Before you could stammer out a greeting, she was winding her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Y/N!” she cooed. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s even better to know that there’ll be another girl in this stupid event! At least now, whichever team wins, it’ll be assured that it wasn’t all because of the men.”

You had never had the time to grow close with Mai when you were younger — though not as disgraceful as Maki, she was still nobody that the Zenins and your parents believed you should associate with. But this actually meant you two probably had more in common than they thought, so despite her supposed enmity with Maki, you allowed her to embrace you.

“It’s always good to prove expectations wrong,” you agreed, “Thanks for getting my stuff.”

“I apologize for that idiot Todo’s behavior,” she said, pulling away and wrinkling her nose. “He’s an odd one, although he is terrifyingly strong.”

“The strangest people always are,” you said, thinking of Gojo with a smile.

“True,” she said, “Are you feeling ready for the event? I think it’ll be fun.”

“I think so, too,” you said. She looked around before leaning in so close that her lips were nearly brushing your ear.

“Don’t tell anyone I’ve told you this, but rumor has it the teamwork challenge involves a grade 2 curse. Be careful, yeah? And watch out — I’m sure you already know, but sabotage is allowed and encouraged. I wouldn’t want you to end up battling Todo or something without at least a fair warning,” she whispered.

“Why would you tell me that?” you said. She winked.

“I’m a nice person! Plus, then you can see that between my twin and I, I’m the better, kinder sister,” she said, fluttering her fingers in a wave and then leaving you behind, dumbfounded. You yanked your suitcase in and slammed the door.

“Maki’s still better,” you said rebelliously, flustered at Mai’s actions and stomping around as you unpacked your bag.

“What was all of that about?” Yuta said.

“She was just telling me we’ll probably have to face a grade 2 curse during the teamwork challenge, and that sabotage is allowed, so we’ll have to worry about their team, too,” you said.

“You probably don’t have to worry,” Yuta said, “It’s clear as day that Noritoshi is head over heels for you, and vice versa. I can’t see him attacking you.”

“Really? We must be better actors than I thought. Noritoshi and I are only friends that have been set to get married, and I disagree with your latter statement, too. He absolutely would attack me if he was told to — he’s the dutiful sort. It probably won’t be enough to harm me permanently, but something like a concussion or broken bone? I wouldn’t put it past him,” you said.

“I won’t let him, then,” Yuta said, peeking at you from the safety of his pillows.

“You will, actually,” you said. “I’ve been thinking — the reason I was put on your team is as something to hold you back — a handicap, as the case may be. I won’t give into that role; I’ll fight, of course, but I don’t want you to protect me, okay?”

“That’s stupid,” he said dismissively. “Of course I’ll protect you.”

“I refuse to be your weakness, Yuta,” you said fiercely.

“That’s not really something that’s up to you,” he said, “Don’t worry. You’re too strong to be anything like a handicap, so it’s a moot point. Get some rest.”

“You —”

“Y/N,” he interrupted you, “You can’t argue with me on this one. I’m not going to stand by and watch you get hurt.”

“Why’d you tell Todo I was your type of woman?” you said, changing the subject when it became clear Yuta would not budge. Maybe it was the solitude of the room, or maybe it was because he was too worn down to fight over it, but he only exhaled it heavily.

“You’re not that dumb,” he said. You looked away, hugging your knees to your chest. You weren’t that dumb.

“You know I can’t, right?” you checked.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m sorry. Did you find out? Is that why…?”

“No. It’s just that — it’s just that —” you paused before deciding you were in so deep that there was no point in hiding, not anymore. Silently apologizing to Maki and Tullia, you took a deep breath. “It’s just that I feel the same way. And I shouldn’t, and I can’t bear to be around you when you’re the first thing I’ve ever wanted all to myself even though you’re the only thing I can’t have.”

“Wh-what?” he said.

“For my entire life, I’ve not been able to make any of my own choices. The only things that are mine are my needles and being friends with Maki; both earn me the disapproval of the higher ups, but they begrudgingly allow them due to Noritoshi’s support. But then you — you just had to come in and believe in me and be so kind and wonderful. I want you, Yuta, I want to make at least this one choice, to choose you, but I’m not brave enough to deal with what that entails,” you said.

“I understand,” he said, “You don’t have to. I’m not selfish enough to make you when I know you’ll be in danger if you do. So this is this last I’ll ever speak of it, but before I put the subject to rest, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” you said.

“If Todo — if Todo asked you what kind of man was your type, what would you say?” he said.

“Your name,” you said without hesitating. “Yuta Okkotsu. That’s what I would say.”

[godsstrongestangel]

✨ HOW TO DEVELOP AIR ENERGY ✨

Refer to part 1 -

Journaling

Journaling helps air signs put all of the clutter in their mind on a paper it's gives a sense of clarity so they can revolve their thoughts around it, also it can be a big release for them it's like taking a weight off their brains ( which they might be trying to achieve through substances). To be very specific in journaling if air signs have to write down for expressing their emotional desires they have to write it off the bat!!!

NO FILTER no need to write oh I wanna manifest this mindset, oh maybe I shld write nice words!! What if these are affs..nono I shld write my desire reality..nono lemme write some affs ughhhhhhh NOOOOOOO!!!!

Writing what's not truly on ur mind will load up ur brain by suppressing what is in ur brain, Do not modify ur thoughts on paper just go raw.. modifying is a big no no for this sign u won't manifest in the ways others do leave that work to others and don't force positivity on ur brain or on paper be natural and just release in the most authentic way possible

Goals can be written by firstly writing what do they desire and how do they think they can get closer to it - go with flow charts for solutions or ideas and it's ok if while reading this you don't know what your goals are. Take it step by step and start by emotional writing

Meditation

Now again a clarity that they thought they could get from substances!! Meditation will really help them focus start by 5min a day and then gradually increase. For initial levels try guided meditation and then without any music or guided video. Though you will reap best results by journaling and meditating altogether

Sound medicine

Simply listening to certain sound frequencies or even meditating to them can help them heal and gain clarity as this can be useful if they are prone to music addiction already. You can try soundcloud

Drawing/painting

Air energy is naturally expressive in nature and it doesn't always have to be words, sometimes their art speaks volume u can try drawing or imitating any art u find attractive u can experiment or do anything as this is very thereaupatic and healing for the mind

Social media detox/ stopping binge watching

This is to give ur brain a pause or relief although many air signs naturally hit a phase where they stop consuming entertainment, it's considered a part of the development process and henceforth they can become selective with info they are feeding into their brains

Making to do lists

Air signs are often loaded up with thoughts hence they are prone to forgetting things although they might mistake it for Alzheimer but that's not really the case. Therefore creating a to do list will remind them of the tasks also don't add more than 5 tasks otherwise the brain will be overwhelmed and u r more likely to discontinue the practice

Other steps can include writing blogs (like me), solving jigsaw puzzles, algebra or some basic math stuff, coloring and painting, singing or acting, writing stories or anything they like, reading good quotes, philosophies.

Have a great life ahead guys...

I know this has been real helpful, answers the queries and trust me the solution lies in simplicity. I hope we all can cultivate our potential by working day by day.

Ty!! For waiting for me to post this

Lots of love 💗

#airsigns #air energy #libra #gemini #aquarius #gemini rising #gemini moon #libra moon #gemini sun #aquarius moon #aquarius rising # aquarius sun #libra sun

[chibishortdeath]

Had to remake this entire post cause I got gunk in my eye and set my phone down for two seconds to clean it and it crashed (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Anyway, unfortunately slightly less excited/passionate version of this post it is then ughhhhh

Explanations yippie!

I got requested by some friends to draw Simon with short shorts and so I delivered. Really happy with the anatomy on this one :3

Yes this is Fuma slapping his ass and yes it was also a request lol

Simon did not expect that—

But it was a welcome surprise ;3

Simon and Fuma are cuddling in this one! It’s a little hard to make out what’s going on with their arms and legs tho whoops

Just a doodle about the artstyle crisis I had a bit ago with his hair. It didn’t last long and I ended up going right back to drawing it how I usually do anyway, but it was an interesting concept to try. Maybe I’ll try it out again someday cause it looks nice, but ehhhh I just didn’t end up enjoying drawing it very much tbh (TwT ).

To pair with the first image, I drew Simon in his cursed era with short shorts too hehe :3. I also started adding little dark vein patterns to the curse in this doodle :O. I think it’s giving cursed a lot more than just the bloody scratchy patterns I usually draw.

I like to think that maybe if Simon succumbed to the curse he’d end up a vampire. I mean, it’d track with vampire folklore surrounding the vampires’ curse. There’s a lot of stories where the vampire, even when dead or buried, can still long distance drain and inflict someone with illness and the end stage of it is death and coming back as a vampire or other spirit/ghoul. Aughhhh I had a much better rant about this written before the crash but I just can’t replicate it properly aaaaaaa curse you memory problems (;_; ). I’ll have to rant about vampire folklore in a separate dedicated post eventually, it’s fun :)

Yay, pose practice :3! Also this one is never getting finished, the anatomy was too fun to cover with big clunky armor 😔😔😔

This one I am also so proud of X]. I think this is my best depiction of the effects of the curse yet tbh. I had an explanation of the traits I usually depict it having before the crash, so I’ll try to make another one. First things first, it drastically affects the healing process. Things just don’t close up properly or at all in most cases. Old scars tend to open back up a lot easier and this is in part because of the second major effect: rotting. Rotting is a very explanatory word when it comes to physical ailments, implying decay or necrosis! It usually starts at the extremities or around the edges of wounds with skin darkening, bleeding, and either a dryness or wetness, then spreads inwards and downwards or through the blood to other areas. Especially in extreme cases, which I think 6 whole years qualifies for 💀. Simon would probably have very fragile skin in the most affected areas and long story short his hands and feet are probably raw most of the time yikes, ouch, this poor guy :(. I imagine that he probably has some kind of Belmont specific regenerative and resistant ability that’s kept him from dying from it for so long, since they are kinda implied to be a little superhuman in some way. Which is probably a blessing and a curse in itself because on one hand it did allow him to live long enough to fix the problem, but on the other hand that had to absolutely suck (haha, Drac haha). I’ve explained other elements of it in another older post now that I think of it, so I might have to gather all this stuff together and make a more in depth post about it cause it’s really neat to talk about :3! I had like a huge special interest as a kid for injury and disease cause I started making ocs and ran into a bunch of “how to write realistic injury” posts and I’m glad for it cause it comes back any time I’m writing or drawing something that requires that knowledge. :)

[funsize-cenobites]

Personal Headcanon thingy,

Sniper is Australian just as much as Superman was American.

His folks raised him as an Aussie, loved him as one, taught him as one and he never knew anything else. Hes from New Zealand sure but no one knew him there, no one cared for him there, and he never knew. I don't think that qualifies him as a Kiwi past point of origin and even then when defining origin do you think he would think of a place he only went once to meet parents who were utter strangers and had been willing to let him and everyone else go just to sit in space? Or do you think he thinks of the parents he very clearly loves and values the opinions of even when they arent aligned with him?

I was reading an older lore post of @blubushie (irl Sniper fr fr) earlier about Australium and the Piss joke and deeper lore connotations and honestly? I fucking love this. I mean, obviously anything is possible in such a wacky irreverent fictional world- Australium exists AT ALL- but setting that aside for just a moment.. not every Aussie could be a Saxton Hale and on the flip-side its at least heavily (hehe) implied that even Non-Aussies can become like him through the stuff (Classic Heavy).

People vary wildly, genetics and physiology make this stuff so much fun to think about. Im willing to bet Sniper was just 'A sickly child' to doctors and adults in his life. He was just one of the semi-rare extreme cases of a "disorder" that afflicted some Australians, making it harder for their bodies to process or know what to do with excess unprocessed Australium. Kinda like Gluten and Lactose intolerances etc.

Some have to watch their levels to ensure their body has enough time to take it in and some don't absorb enough naturally and take suppliments. Sniper wasn't, as far as I remember, ever really properly accused of not being Australian, just different. [EDIT: I'm a fool, I forgot about the MOUSTACHES. I'm not removing any of this but know going forward I'm aware of it. Check the reblogs, it was really cool!] Im sure thats not uncommon, especially when one of the pinnacles is the likes of Hale. And as far as we know its not like Mr and Mrs Mundy were like... poisoning their kid. Its not like "True Blood Aussies" are the only people who can handle it. They were just raising him as their own and that means making sure he had access to it, in whatever form he could have it.

So even then I don't see Sniper as having 'Missed out' on being Australian or that hes clearly not one because he doesn't look like Hale or punch things. I don't really like that idea. Sniper's parents are old and look fine (aside from the being dead part) but they look like... normal old people. I headcanon that Australium effects people in the specific ways of boosting certain physical and mental aspects such as, Promoting longevity (Obviously) but could also manifest in other ways too like maybe:

A slightly faster than normal healing rate.

Various minor but notable resistances to naturally occurring hazards. (venoms and and extreme heat/cold the like)

Promoting the growth of muscle and the reduction of its atrophy.

Reduced need for sleep.

Quicker mental recall.

Markedly better vision/ Hand-eye-coordination.

You get what I mean.

I don't mean these are all extremely noticeable but they are noticeable at all.

Basically, I headcanon that it doesn't actually automatically make you into this buff beat-em-up brawler who only lives to punch people because thats a bit boring and also Saxton Hale is an impressively unreliable narrator who happens to be really into punching people and anything else that breathes.

Instead I headcanon that Australia truly flourished early under the influence of Australium because of increased lifespans and abilities which allowed for a lot of wiggle room and dedication to anything a particular person might be interested in. I headcanon that they place a lot of cultural worth on Trying Stuff Till Something Sticks and finding something you Love to Do/Study.

Theres a lot of stuff and cultural norms that have become stereotypes due to how a lot of outside views shaped their self-image upon learning about Australium (Like how in America its super super common to have cishet normative ideals for ones future even in childhood) but when you're not a mean little kid anymore and you find Your Thing (or Things) it doesnt usually matter all that much what it is. Usually in adulthood the weirdest thing you can be is probably 'Not Being Into Anything' like anything at all. "You cant even tell me about one book you read that you really liked? What?"

Sniper, is a crack shot, one of the best in the business. Because its what he got good at. Because hes Australian. And they're all good at something eventually.

[nihilaraarchived]

BORDERLANDS VERSE ; 𝐍𝐘𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐇𝐀 ! 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 , 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 !

kuro is a vault hunter , and he's a good one. he grew up believing ( see: raised to believe ), that the only way to meet god, would be to open a vault. his rocky upbringing relied a lot on ingenuity, and religion in equal parts. keeping the faith in hopes that one day-- some divine power might take pity on his planet. pity never came, and kuro set off from home to find the vault hidden right under their feet. i like to think it may of been something common where he was from. like it was looked upon with pride? that those who wished to try may of been praised for it. most never came back though, and almost non survived the journey.

of course, he'd find the vault- but the contents were not what i had grown up expecting to find. eridian technology, and a strange artifact guarded by a terrifying alien entity ( which of course he killed wtf else should he do? ). the artifact when touched didn't seem to do anything at first. but kuro would quickly find out it granted him with... immortality. not exactly something he'd asked for.

the events following his retrieval of the vault artifact are vague. and kuro claims not to remember where he's from, who his family was, or how old he is. best not to ssk really it's not even that important, ( why do you need to know, weirdo. ) he takes to the role of vault hunter rather well; seeking vaults & any information on the eridians or their tech. trying to discover a way to free himself from his unfortunate condition.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐌𝐈

kuro had found find mimi at a hyperion installation. she was a victim of animal experimentation, trying to see if intelligence increased elemental bonding. it probably wasn't the best idea, and if kuro hadn't broken her out? yeah. it'd gotten him a pretty big bounty on his head between BL1 and BL2. a bounty he still has, and is growing- as he continues to steal from hyperion well into 3. though his theft and vandalism slowly branches out to other corporations. u - u

similar to hsr, mimi is an extremely intelligent feline like alien- though her appearance is a bit more akin to most animals in borderlands. she's also definitely a lot more unhinged in this verse lmao. she is a terrible influence.

at current, he and mimi are both... for hire. though his name has been thoroughly dragged through the mud. they may have a bad rep, but they get shit done.

other stuff....

unlike other character, kuro doesn't die. he doesn't go to respawn stations when he's downed- he just needs a moment to catch his breath. maybe piece himself back together. process of healing is the same in all verses--

he loves... driving. beep beep is he 100% safe about it? no? but he's not gonna get hurt in any way that matters. and mimi is totally fine.

he doesn't want to talk about the amount of times he's been eaten alive.

i do think his immortality is a fairly well kept secret. passing off his fatal accidents, and encounters as good luck. however, it's hard to hide some things up close. if word got out about his condition, i'm certain a few companies would be all over him- trying to figure out how to get some of what he has...

[healinghoneybee]

My body wants to express and be heard and acknowledged, before I can move on. My body's pain was valid. I hear you. You deserve better than what you have experienced. I love you. We are in this together. Let's make art together.

Trauma teaches us we don't have control and cannot deny or even fully ascend and overcome and be done with something. If it's on our path, healing is integration. We will never reach perfect awareness/enlightenment or perfect healing. We will need to accept what it is to be human and make space for pain and everything real and wacky that has happened and what is ugly and impacting us. We don't always have an option to choose a better experience today. I will need to accept, make space, tuck this experience in my back pocket, not get rid or "move on" or "just let go". I will need to learn to be okay with this version of myself that has really been hit with life. I am strong enough to let this weird something stay with me.

Our idea of hope might shift, but it is possible to hold a different, nuanced kind of hope for tomorrow. Our empowerment might look different than we expect or what others tell us it should look like. Our past doesn't define us, but it is felt and we use it and it is a part of our mosaic.

Not everything can stay pure and beautiful. Some things might take a really long time to fade or refuse to be buried until it's felt and honored. Some things won't resolve on their own or with our best efforts. Maybe one day, but not always like we wish they would. It's hard to look it in the eye, it's scary stuff. But when we are willing to feel the scary stuff and show up to the process, our capacity to hold more grows. I am both wiser and have so much still to learn.

When I'm old and wrinkly, I will know I faced everything. I fought to reclaim my heart and mind, my hope, my beliefs, and my worthiness every time someone disappointed me or trauma or society impacted me or disconnected me. I built a safe home inside myself that was unique and complex and wonderful, where my experiences and emotions fit. Where all parts of myself, even the worst ones, were heard and by learning to be gentle to them, I found their true intentions to protect me and eventually found the best versions of those parts. I found my way back in my body, knew my tender heart intimately, and tried to give it the respect, protection, justice, patience, compassion, attention, and love it deserves.

Maybe it is a gift that our soul won't settle until we refuse what the world is telling us and search for and try to grasp at those best and shifting versions of ourselves, for ourselves.

I am grateful my parents gave me the gift of life and of dancing. And I am grateful I have something to feel and express. Through everything, I will always have this body as a ship and I will use it to feel art and connect to other humans and help each other heal and keep dancing.

[the-narwhals-awaken]

For context, somebody in my writing discord server mentioned Eldritch Bad Wolf, and as the server cosmic horror enthusiast, I thought I'd have a go.

... we can go a lot into how eldritch stuff actually works- for the real hit of eldritch impact is not in the knowing, in the expanding into a new world and plane of existence, but in coming back to what you knew and losing the ability to explain- you understand it, you understand it perfectly, and yet nobody will believe you and you cannot convince a soul.

in relevant context, you've got Rose taking action- direct action, something needed, and looking. She Sees. She Knows. She Changes. (the last based upon your personal preference and AU of choice). And then she goes back. On the most typical path (not that other options are bad, this is just the most common one) she loses the one person she knew might be able to understand, might have the context to understand her and what she did, and by the time she knows and trusts the new him again, either she's put it to the side as a later problem or he's proven that it's not going to end as well as she needs/wants it to be- as we've shown before, nothing against Ten, but he does take running from his problems to a significantly unhealthy degree even going off of the Doctor's usual scale. So she can't tell anyone- can't get a proper physical response, the hugs and comfort that human bodies still need. And so she changes in silence, watched and helped only by the TARDIS- who is amazing, but is also far beyond the scope and scale of one Bad Wolf still trapped in three dimensions and moving through the fourth. She becomes something new, something even she, who has seen all of Time and Space, has never seen before.

And there are consequences to that. Mistakes she makes- whether of the pushing too far and gaining the consequences (screaming migranes, weak spots in Time, etc) or not knowing what to do or how to process things leading to incorrect or less correct options, and the usual frailties of a human mind and morals behind a being of unimaginable temporal power.

And fragile human shells are not meant to contain such power. The children of Gallifrey, born to this and specifically adapted over millenia of work and centuries of life to exposure to temporal radiation were not meant to hold even a fraction of what lies in her body even in its resting state, so much that only sensors meant to understand the Vortex itself can even detect anything beyond her sheer presence. Her hair is the first thing to go- a natural blonde, now, instead of her dyed shade. At first, it doesn't seem so bad. She gets stronger, faster, gets better reflexes and better perception of what's going on. She heals quicker, more thoroughly. Aches and pains from long days of travel and running fade.

Then it starts turning against her. Things repair too fast to strengthen again, and the ache of healing muscle and ligament and tendon becomes part of her life- too much, too fast, taking too much energy. She sleeps either hours at a stretch or barely minutes, but her mind doesn't always keep up with her body's demands- whether to move move move or to stop, energy sapped away. She's always hungry, or never hungry. Too hot, or too cold. And sometimes, late at night, when the Doctor's at the other end of the ship and she's sitting alone in a dark corner of the hallways where she wandered in an attempt to wear herself out a bit she sees the gold swirl away from her again, twisting away from her form like her appearance is only the way it is because she presumes it to be.

Did her eyes always have that ring around the pupil? Were they always that light of a shade? Did she always look like what she sees in the mirror, or is it based on her own memory and self-perception?

Her piercings close. They were flaws, scars, and they vanish over the course of three weeks- closing up from the inside out till there isn't even a faint dip to show where they'd been for over a decade. Old scars begin to fade- first, the ones from childhood, little memories that were already half-gone from time and bleedover from the advanced technology they used to help heal themselves in the TARDIS. Then newer ones- the remnants of bruised knuckles that built up from years of questionable punches, the old marks left over from when knives slipped in the kitchen, the traces of her mistake at sixteen with Jimmy. Then the ones she'd gained while traveling- little burns and nicks and scrapes and lines, little things that might have eventually built up but hadn't ever been anything much, just another memory.

Her skin is the best it's ever been- the only flaws the callouses she built up from running, from climbing, from the life they live, and even those are only as big as they need to be and still softer than they should seem. There are no marks on her skin- why would there be? She is so full of power that any mark was removed.

Sometimes, she worries a little. Her past made her, and yet she is losing the traces of it every day. With every scar that fades, every little freckle and scrape and remnant of life that vanishes, every little lump and strand of hair out of place that disappears like they were never there, she loses the little reminders. That she was human, that she lived, that she was mortal and just like them. Her past will always be her past- she knows that much, that when she was all of it she made sure she would always exist, but she also knows the power of the little details. Slight changes that could throw whole worlds into play. Single interactions that would start new stories on their tracks. Countless possibilities all so similar, almost unnoticeably different.

The Doctor doesn't say anything. Part of her thinks he doesn't notice. Part of her thinks he's just scared. Part of her doesn't want to know. So she doesn't say anything either.

The first time she looks in the mirror to see golden eyes staring back, she flinches.

Eventually, she knows, she will not.

[sergeantsporks]

THERE'S A DRAGON? Can we get more about the dragon please? And Sven?

And why Kore dislikes being a magician? Does the way one practice magic (wizard/sorcerer/witch) come from someone being born like that or is it how the person practices the magic while young or [insert more options]?

Sorry for the spam of questions I am now Very Curious

The dragon is just this old grandpa who collects weird stuff and sometimes eats trespassers! Early on in her immortality, when she's freaking out and trying to figure things out, Sylvia wanders into his den on accident. He almost eats her, but ends up FASCINATED by her colored glass, so she stays around and he sort of guides her through the whole "so you're new to immortality" process. She hangs out with him for a few decades before going out on her own. Sven was part of the dragon's hoard, and he's very shy, but Sylvia managed to get him to come out of his shell, and since Sven never "worked" for dragon grandpa, he said "yeah, sure, he can go with you"

Magic is something you're born with here. If you have a magic item, or if you steal a wizard's staff, you can use magic, and some potions can be brewed just using magical ingredients with no magic of your won. But full magic that you can do on your own is something you have to be born with. The main kicker here is that if you can do magic, you're immortal. Fully. Nothing can kill you. You stay the age you were when your magic kicked in forever (hence why Caelan Jr. is stuck an immortal teenager. There are potions you can take to age your body up as an immortal, but they don't work on everyone).

That being said, healing magic doesn't exist here, and immortals don't have regeneration powers. So if you're immortal, and you get your head cut off, you're stuck in a state of eternal pain as your head and body are separated. If you get vaporized, your consciousness is swirling around in everlasting agony among your ashes. Etc. You get it. It can be rough.

And the answer to Kore's general dislike of magic comes from how magic and immortality works, here. She was born with magic but didn't know it until later in life. So she became an alchemist looking for the secret to immortal life, both so that she could help people who were sick/hurt by temporarily making them immortal so they could survive whatever was killing them, and then also, a way to REMOVE immortality. Partly so she could remove the immortality once people were better and partly so that regular humans would have a chance against magic users and a way to get rid of them. Her local town god was kind of an ass so she definitely wanted him dead.

She wanted her work to be something anyone can replicate, not something you needed magic for. And she always sort of preferred human solutions to magic, because, again, anyone could do it. So she prefers to rely on her alchemy rather than magic. Also she's just really, really, really bad at magic, so she doesn't like using it.

The classifications are ways of practicing, and you can swap and mess around in multiple places, but how much magic power you're born with does affect which you choose, if that makes sense? People with low magical power tend to go the wizard route, because it amplifies their weak power. People with a lot of power tend to go the sorcerer route, because, well, while amplifying their power is great, if they lost their item of power, they'd be helpless. And they're already pretty strong. So why bother?

Magicians are anyone who can do magic

Wizards, as before mentioned, put their power in an item that amplifies it, at the cost of their power being dependent on that thing

Sorcerers are doing magic with barely a second thought. They're very in tune with their magic, so they don't need spells or items, although they might use spells or items early on to practice while they're figuring out those powers

Witches tend to create items of power, but they don't put their whole magic into them like wizards. These are like, your run of the mill talismans and amulets and such. Small things that allow them to store their power and then recharge their magic. They can also give/sell these things to people with no adverse side effects. It's another popular option for people with lower natural power. These magic items also tend to have a specific use, like "oh, this one protects you from poisoning," rather than how wizard items are just all purpose magic blasters. The tradeoff here is that a witch's items will fade and lose their power after too many uses, unlike a wizard's item of power, which will retain its magic forever. Witches also are likely to brew potions, but that's not exclusive to witches

Spellcasters are people who rely entirely on spoken words/rituals to use magic. They typically have a lower level of magic that needs spells in order to manifest, or they're not able to control their magic even if it's on a high level, so they need spells to focus it. Pretty much anyone with magic can cast a spell, but people who are specifically "spellcasters" are people who don't have enough magic strength/control do do any other kind of magic. They're capable of big feats of magic, but obviously they can't always do their magic the fastest, or they can't use it if you can just knock the breath out of them

These aren't entirely STRICT categories. Being a wizard has pretty set standards, but the lines between witches, spellcasters, and sorcerers tend to blur a little. A witch might use magic without a talisman or potion, or a sorcerer might cast a verbal spell instead of just thinking it into existence, or a spellcaster might use a verbal spell to make a talisman. You don't HAVE to belong to one category or the other (again, unless you're a wizard, in which case, you're stuck, but even wizards can practice other forms of magic).

It's more like modes of magic than a cast iron label. You're practicing witchcraft or sorcery, or you're spellcasting, but you're not necessarily a witch/sorcerer/spellcaster, you know? That being said, there are people who definitely prefer one over the other, and will give themselves one of those labels, or seek out others who do and form groups. And if you lean more one way than the other, you might just say "I'm a sorcerer" because it's easier than saying "oh, well, I'm a sorcerer that occasionally makes talismans and uses verbal spells." But also, you can just go "I'm a magician" and leave it at that if it's complicated!

Kore is someone who doesn't really fall into a label (just like how her sexuality is a big old "?," HA). She doesn't like magic that much, so she doesn't bother identifying her magical type. She can use magic without a verbal spell or she can cast a spell, but she's equally bad at both, so she's not really a sorcerer OR spellcaster in that regard. She likes brewing potions alright because that's the closest magic there is to alchemy, and ergo, she doesn't totally suck at it, but she's not really into witchcraft as a whole. In general, she's just sort of like "meh" if you ask her about it.

[neurodecadence]

hmm. prime numbers be upon ye

Emily I value you as a friend, but this is evil. I am just a poor sleepy dame and you want me to do maths? to find Prime Numbers? how dare you.

Anyway, let's do it.

2. Do you like to use the term queer for yourself? Or just LGBT, etc? Love queer as a term, adore it. My whole... deal is messy and not easy to discern and being able to say "ehhh you know that whole thing" is nice and easy.

3. Which pronouns do you use? So it's complicated a bit thanks to plurality (we have slightly different pronoun sets), but the shortest answer is "It/It's* for strangers and new people, It/She for friends and closer people". If I ever use She referring to myself, it's specifically one part referring to the other. *(yes I know the apostrophe is grammatically incorrect but the grammar was not written with the idea of it as a person pronoun in mind, so suck it, I am keeping it)

5. Are you "out" publicly? I mean I'm a six foot tall, broad shouldered entity in a wheelchair when I go out, who gave up on voice training because it's too much effort. I don't exactly have much choice BUT to be out, which is fine. I get a lot of kids being curious and I think that's sweet, when they look at me and are trying to process a LOT of thoughts all at once.

7. Are you the "token" queer person in your family? I don't have much of a family tbh. That's not just and edgy statement, my biological familia consists of me and my mother, every other person who shares my bloodline is not welcome near me ever again. I'm glad I don't have contact with them tbh, because I know I WOULD have been a token queer to a few of my family members, and I don't wanna be used like that.

11. Favorite (or just one you love) piece of LGBT media? Shiiiit, hard to narrow it down to one, you know. I might have to give it to The Last Girl Scout, by local tumblr legend Natalie Ironside. It's a story about queer love and building something beautiful in the ashes of the old, about healing, really healing, from trauma and pain, it's about connections and learning who you are through others. It's also about shooting fascists, a cool polish vampire, and communist political arguments. It's a good read, changed my life.

13. Do you choose to reclaim slurs, why or why not? I do it, but it's sorta tricky to express why. It's partly for the same reason I prefer It as a pronoun, it's about taking assumed power. What I mean is, as a visibly trans person, people are always playing the pronoun guessing game before I talk to them, running those guess and assumptions and deciding what they'll use at me. By using "It" as the preferred pronoun, there's a part of stealing that back, a bit of "you cannot have guessed that, and also if you intended to use that to misgender me, oooooh too bad bitch". In the same regard, calling myself a slur feel like taking power out of people's hands. Hands that may seek to wield it against me. I have faced institutional transphobia more than once, but it was always simple chafing microaggressions stacks atop one another. By saying out loud "yeah I'm a fuckin' tranny, what're you gonna do about it", it's like bringing a KS-23 4 Gauge Shotgun to a watergun fight (that's a very big gun by the by). Maybe I've overthought it a bit, and I'll admit, I don't make people in public use It pronouns for me because I don't really get out much (also a Pin for that might save some time), but that's my thinking on the topic.

17. Have you ever attended Pride in a big city/ large metro area? I really do not get out a lot. Also I forget that Pride month is february in Aotearoa and by the time I remember the parade happened weeks ago. So that's on me.

19. Do you feel safe and accepted in your local community? Pretty damn safe tbh. Folks around here practice the stance of "ain't gonna let that ruin my day". Doesn't hurt it's on the edge of a Uni district, lots of 20 somethings doing weird cool stuff. The only times I've dealt with problems have been petty bureaucrats with a lick of power exerting it at me. Then I go holler at higher ups and make their life a living hell. I'd feel bad, but maybe don't misgender me seventeen times in two minutes and verbally attack me on at 9pm on a monday night.

23. Do you prefer loud parties or quiet? Yeah I really don't get out a lot, and especially not enough to go to parties. Still I like a quiet gathering, if it's on the table. Everyone brings some food, there's music playing, no expectations but to be yourself. That kinda vibes.

29. Are you currently partnered, or if not are you interested in having partner(s)? I have two lovely partners, and I adore them to the end of the world and back. I'm not actively seeking any more romantic attachments, but I'm also not saying it's off the table (fate has a funny way with these things). My only problem atm is my dear partners are aaaaaall the way on the west coast of the USA, and I'm down here in kiwi-land. I'm not saying the distance isn't worth it, but I am saying I would like some more hugs in my future. Or sex. That'd be cool too.

31. Post a pic in your pride gear (or it can just be a selfie or anything else lgbt):

Have an image of this beast.

Okay that's everything, done, complete, kaput, finito. This is simply way too many words about myself but I can't NOT complete this order, especially since it's from cool pal Emily. If you read this far, please send me wishes that I get a good nights sleep at some point in June, I feel like I'm going nuts.

Well, Nuts-er, I mean.

[systenowy-blog]

TW sex

host been asexual her whole life, she only wanted to try something due to manipulation, out of curiosity or her body responded but she didn't like it mentally and couldn't stand it unless sexual alters helped - she wanted them to have their own life though instead of being used by her to achieve something in the co-front with a person that they didn't even like/know (it's up to any system what they decide to do, I am not judging anyone who has sex alters of any kind that do sexual things for others - we made our own choice)

she realises she is aromantic or trauma caused it but she doesn't want to change that anyway

when it comes to the rest of us it's hard to tell... because we were genderless fragments mostly during childhood we obviously "been into men" as we were thought it's the only way and when we formed we became men so we turned out to be either gay, homoflexible or bisexual due to old beliefs/stereotypes/trauma, some are probably more demi than we think but because they're in relationships for some time now it's hard to remember how those started and we have no idea how they would perceive another person now as we're single, we def are not aromantics tho, we also been soldiers in head space which meant we were among other men and having sex with each other due to needs, mirroring trauma from outside world, having traits/opinions/behavior dropped by host and taken away inward etc.

alters who splitted during dysphoric times of our host when she was looking for her identity due to many reasons and decided she prefers women romantically at the time (platonically now) were hetero or bisexual, some are heteroflexible now, why? because trauma also caused alters to become bi/gay to process it via relationships as we probably said before

new alters though are totally different, most of them are asexual, aromantic, incapable of love, disgusted with idea of romance/sex due to what we've been through in the past few years, we have emotions like this blocked from our brain, we hit a glass wall whenever we try to even think about it or imagine ourselves in situations, it might change as we're not stable yet, it might change because our brain might decide we need to process something even if we had a different purpose at first

gender and sexuality in DID/OSDD is often the reason of trauma and dysphoria of the host/core/body - not always of course! so saying we can't identify somehow because it's a reason of trauma that we should/could fix to be normal and calling us not valid is hurtful - we do belong in LGBTQIA community if you like it or not, we will use labels even if you think it's not ok due to being traumatised, I don't care where my sexuality and gender came from, we work on that on therapy but not to change something that our brain decided that is safe, comfy, helpful, desired, preffered - we might if we will go this way of healing but we know that the way our system works we probably won't achieve that as it will harm the host who needs us to be separate - she wants us to exist as parts of her brain/life and experience some stuff through memories but not on her own, she doesn't want and is not capable of accepting some traits without changing who she is and she likes herself now (finally), she doesn't have to deal with everything that happened to her/us on her own and become a fusion (or create one) if functional multiplicity is working for us better, you don't have to understand that but it's a bit like being an actor (but being an actor is conscious obviously and this isn't) - you might want to play a role but never be a person from that movie in real life - she would like to be or needs to be a man but is not and doesn't want that at the same time - hard to get, right? because of stereotypes and how she was treated etc she needs part of her to be masculine and sexual/romantic while it doesn't fit her and she won't do it herself

*and no, she doesn't want us to have sex herself - brain does so I am aware if we were gone it would be part of herself but she doesn't want it, capeesh? she was here first and fronting most of our life so we call her original/core (even if you don't believe in it) and our therapist treats her this way saying we are parts of her but we are parts of the brain - she is too an alter, she is more important to us due to being the host for so long and creating her life which we belong to now as we used to be inner system mostly but she doesn't OWN us even if how we work is not equal (but fair) so we don't believe we're her parts - we're part of the brain and those are needs of the brain - not her's, those are results of trauma that happened to the body, without the trauma she would be different indeed but we don't know who she would be, without us she would be different but we don't know how and she would be different if she experienced trauma without splitting but who knows how it would look like? there's no final real HER, something like this doesn't exist to us - you can say one should go through therapy and find herself (body's itself actually or at least herself without us and trauma) but maybe for us it's already THIS as Blue said - being a system

same goes to many other things that she experiences that happen in our life - she wants to watch something but it's too scary? we will and she will remember it or not feel fear while being in head space in co-con, she wants to go somewhere but is afraid of people? we will but she will see through our eyes what is happening there, she wants to be loved but partner need physical affection? partner will get it from the rest of us while she will stay safe and untouched even if it's the same body

and it's not only like that for her - we all are capable or uncapable, wanting or not, of things that other headmates will do for us - carrying heavy stuff? he got it, going through something hard in life? sure thing for this guy, being able to go to therapy when others are not willing? there's this man or another that will cope today etc

telling us that host has to get normal and work on her issues to be a brave/confident/self-sufficient lesbian or even a guy (depends what our brain would decide) is not ok - you don't know us, you don't live our life, you don't know what is good for us and our host is complete the way she is - finally stable enough even despite triggers, so fuck off! we were trying to fuse and we know how it can look like via blending or going dormant for examples but not only - it was and would be harder and more traumatising to the host that living like this and it doesn't show who she really is (consider this - if somebody would force you to accept every single version of you that was kinda growing separately in let's say alternative universe would you feel ok?), we will fall apart again as this is a coping mechanism that we can not unlearn while being 32 years old already and going through awful events currently, therapy (digging deeper into our childhood and toxic relationships) and being constantly triggered remembering the past

don't tell people they always have to change - to asexuals to be sexual by trying something, to people with phobia to stop being scared because it's ridiculous and possible, to those who dislike something to like it by forcing themselves and so on - people can be whoever they want and feel comfortable to be (or are capable of being), they don't have to be constantly better and more normal for you to accept/love/understand or whatever

Bronco

PS we also had female alters but due to trauma we no longer can stand the idea of having any so we don't, it doesn't make us fake

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort - Chapter 11 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

Class is unbearable.

All throughout the lecture Professor Adams' eyes find their way over to me, their expression nerve-rackingly curious.

I revert back to my old ways, not engaging in classroom debate or questions.

Fiona sits beside me.

Despite a shower, the smell of stale cigarette smoke lingers on her skin.

With a sideways glance, I peer down at her notes.

They're not as neat and orderly as they usually are.

Even her beautiful penmanship is crooked and broken.

I lean across her desk and push her hand to the side, writing a note in the corner of her notepad.

'What are you going to tell Leo?'

She blinks at the note before furiously scribbling out my words.

I slump in my chair, trying to remind myself that this is all part of the process of healing.

According to my mom, anger is an obstacle all on its own, a beast to its very core.

I set my pen to the side, checking out from today's lecture.

My eyes move along the full auditorium, lazily glancing at the back of my peers' heads.

One of them looks like he's probably sleeping.

He's slumped down in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses drooped down on the bridge of his nose and his head slowly falling forward.

I wonder if that random student knows about the revolution happening right under his nose?

Or is he as oblivious of it as I was a few days ago?

A soft breeze escapes through the small space of the opened window.

The smell of Nature herself fills my nose and my thoughts begin to drift.

Somewhere out there Brayden and Kelly are running free.

Maybe they're in the main square of the Village, touring Kelly's new home and meeting any immortals they pass along the way.

Then again, maybe they're both at Bogdan's house in the forest.

I imagine Brayden doing an inventory of the remaining blood in his refrigerator, grabbing the two oldest bags for Kelly and him to have for lunch.

When they drink it, maybe they're sitting on the very couch I slept the night Brayden held me captive.

I sigh in longing.

It would be dangerous for me to be with them but I can't think of any other place I'd rather be.

"...for next class, I'll expect you to electronically submit a two-page paper on your stance on the Old War. Any questions?"

The groans of my fellow peers over this new assignment pulls me out of my dangerous daydream.

No one raises their hand and Professor Adams dismisses us on que.

Chatter picks up throughout the auditorium.

Fiona swipes her notes from the desktop and stuffs them in her backpack.

She twirls her hair into a loose bun and slides her pen in the middle to keep it in place.

"You ready?" she asks.

I can feel Professor Adams' eyes on us.

"I think Leo wants to talk to us."

Her jaw tenses but she doesn't say anything.

We wait for the rest of the class to filter through the large doors, their chatter a constant, droll buzz colliding against one another like drunken bees.

I start making my way to the front of the lecture hall and can feel Professor Adams eyeing me from head to toe.

It's weird being in his presence knowing all I do now.

A month ago things were far simpler.

Professor Adams was still a far-fetched fantasy, I hadn't met my vampire and I was blissfully unaware of all the turmoil around me.

Now it feels like my grip on reality is slipping through my fingers faster than crumbling sand.

"Welcome back to class, Fiona," Leo says when we reach his desk.

"Thanks, Professor."

Leo glances to me and then nods to the door, silently requesting for me to close it from all the ears that might overhear what's to come.

A piece of me wishes that his head nod was a dismissal.

I don't think I want to be a part of this conversation and I definitely don't want to tell Leo that Kelly is dead when, in fact, he is very much alive.

I tug each door closed and the smooth, cold handle brushes against my palm.

My hand tingles and parallels the touch of this inanimate object to the feel of Brayden's skin.

It's the type of skin you'd imagine watching a ballet.

The slender skin of the dancers is so flawless and smooth, you'd almost expect them to be made of finely spun glass.

I back away from the door.

My infatuation with the immortal needs to stop.

No good can come of it.

"...haven't felt myself lately," Fiona says to Leo.

"And Kelly," Leo inquires, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"What's the status?"

Fiona eyes flit to me just briefly.

"He didn't make it out alive."

Her voice is angry, a melancholy bitterness that's reserved for only the saddest songs.

It's drowned in a sea of pain, a pain she feels is just as powerful if Kelly was actually dead.

Leo tsk's under his breath and reaches out to pat Fiona on the arm.

"I'm so sorry, Fiona," he says and it sounds genuine.

"Just know he gave his life for a good cause, a cause we all believe in."

Leo's eyes sweep over to study my reaction.

Is he waiting to see if I approve of their anti-vampire cult?

This vampire population they so wish to absolve includes an immortal man who saved my life in addition to my former best friend.

If he's looking for a green light, he'll be hard pressed to find it.

"He will be remembered for years to come," Leo promises.

"For being one of the first to take a stand to get our freedom back."

I suck my lips into my mouth and bite down to keep from talking.

Fiona awkwardly adjusts her backpack.

Leo's speaking of Kelly as a heroic man now gone.

What neither of them realizes is that despite his memories being wiped clean, the soul of Kelly is still intact.

Yes, it may be in a new form but the Kelly we knew and loved is still in there.

Somewhere.

"I'm sorry," I say, backing away from the two of them.

"But I really need to leave."

Leo's eyebrows knit together.

Since Fiona is here, the two of us keep our relationship strictly professional.

His hands twitch slightly at his sides in an effort to keep from reaching out and touching me.

"Before you go," he starts to say but a piercing scream drowns out the rest.

The three of us turn towards the doors leading out to the hallway and I instinctively crouch down.

Another scream crashes against the first.

The cement floor beneath me shivers with a tremor large enough to make my knees rack together.

I stare at the door with wide eyes, watching in horror as college students run past.

Their expressions are filled with fear.

What's going on?

"Both of you, hide," Leo instructs in a clipped tone.

"Now."

He crouches over and tiptoes as best he can to the door without being seen.

He glances at the chaos just inches from him and locks the door.

Then he flips off the lights.

The sequence of his actions makes everything worse.

Bile churns in my stomach and my breathing starts to spiral out of control.

Darkness engulfs me, its spindly fingers wrapping around my torso in delight.

Loud footsteps echo in the hallway, each one reverberating across the floor.

A man's voice begs for help somewhere in the distance, his cry a painful wail until its silenced by a nightmarish gurgle a moment later.

Fiona whimpers and runs to the coat closet in the corner, jumping in and closing the door behind her.

My crouched position in front of Leo's desk is doing little to protect me but I'm too overcome with fear to move.

Leo glances at the coat closet before kneeling down to my level and cupping my face in his hands.

"There's a big trash bin in the back," he whispers.

"Climb into it, cover yourself as much as possible and don't make a sound until I come and get you. Understand?"

"What's going on?" my voice sounds so distant and far away, a timid mouse refusing to face the cat lurking around its quarters.

My professor pulls me into his arms.

His warmth consumes me, the strength of his fingertips pushing me into a web of security.

I don't want him to let go.

He strokes my arm and leans back just enough to place a soft kiss near the edges of my lips.

"Please," he says again.

"Go hide."

His touch vanishes.

I have an odd moment of déjà vu, remembering a time when I believed there was a monster that lived in my hallway.

There were nights I'd have to dash from my room into my parents' room, it was always a dreaded task.

The end result brought me to safety but having to run through the hallway was terrifying.

Every second felt like an eternity and I could never shake that feeling of being watched by something evil.

That same feeling of anxiety-riddled dread resurfaces now.

I swallow hard and crane my neck back, staring at the large garbage bin.

[albino-whumpee]

I haven’t written it all, but for the villain whumpee, River, this is what happened to him.

He was alone because the narrative sold to the public and even his companions was that he had betrayed heroes and people. He was left on his own after heavy dehumanization. Also another oc didn’t really go through their recovery completely alone but a big part of it was by self initiative.

So I have a few points about how a dehumanized whumpee could recover on their own.

Aggression can be animalistic until they find they are living in a society. Then, instinct kicks in and the whumpee will attempt to socialize by using dominating behaviors. Intimidation, plain old attacking, setting traps. Maybe it will be successful sometimes, but there will also be others when they’re possibly getting beaten up for even trying. This will further drive the whumpee into making better strategies and/or getting stronger.

They’re cautious to the point of paranoia, so it is very likely a whumpee that has gone feral will search for isolated places, such as woods or abandoned buildings. That means they will have to have a food source nearby, so many gross stuff will ensue. This is doubly powerful if they were trained to “earn” their food. Their justification to that will be “hunting it”. Until hunting within their “domains” stall or is threatened by an outsider, they’re very likely to not leave.

A feral whumpee will continue to be so until sufficiently exposed to social norms. They can take the escape route to a safe environment or mimic their peers. It’s very instinctual to mirror people, however a feral whumpee will only copy behaviors that will give them a reward. It doesn’t have to be positive and will not be registered as a wrong doing because rewards are given when they do something well and they kinda really need that half eaten burger in the trash, so it’s fine if they punch their way to get it. The lack of social interaction can and will stop the process of integration BECAUSE there’s nobody to make corrections.

Sickness is probably gonna be dealt in the most heinous way ever and be left to heal on its own. So whumpee will either develop a high pain tolerance or lower their defenses enough to try and earn help form another person, even if they’re still so anxious about people they are swatting away hands and are gone the second they feel they’re ok or know the procedure to heal themselves so they take what they need and leave.

Like op said, mimicking and acting will have a lot to do in their recovery. They can act composed, they can act like they’re a human who has never been treated so badly they don’t consider themselves a person even if they are safe. They can also be surrounded by people, but they’re unable to create a meaningful connection because they have put up walls so high and thick it would be easier to dig underneath to get to them. So a feral whumpee might behave, but inside they’re fighting their conditioning so hard, relationships get strained and can be potential triggers, so they will be moving a lot because their façade falls over and over.

A dehumanized whumpee that has been abandoned or disposed of, might latch into anyone that does the bare minimum, but like a stray dog, the moment they try to show any type of affection they will be running away. They don’t have the emotional development to trust anybody by random bouts of kindness, so if whumpee isn’t gonna have that exposure regularly, they will continue to be fearful and doubting of everyone.

If whumpee is in a foreign land, they are super likely to become even more closeted, but also, for survival, they will have to sit, watch and learn. They’re probably gonna wander around searching for someone who they can understand, but if there’s nobody, they will search for ways to learn around the culture by observation and trial and error.

For now that’s all I can think about, but just gotta say a whumpee who recovers on their own will have to have exposure to others in order to do so. They can’t really shed the feral and survival mode until they’re safely allocated and don’t have to worry much about the people surrounding them. Even if it’s for two days or less, those whumpees will heal by watching and adapting behaviors from others into their own lives. That means, you can have a whumpee who is feral and will kill anybody who gets too close, slowly grow into someone who is paranoid, stressed and reserved and will kill anybody who gets too close but looks like they have integrated into society again.

Much of recovery on your own is gonna be an act you write from stolen paragraphs of other people’s script hoping it’s good enough to pass as an “authentic” one. So a whumpee who recovered on their own from dehumanization could struggle with that sense of being “a real human” because they are essentially just acting, not emotionally integrating their behavior as one of adaptation, but of survival.

idk who else to ask so im just kinda asking you

how would a whumpee that kinda like. became feral from dehumanization be able to recover from it? with like, no help from medical people, and maybe (an unlikely chance but) about maybe one person helping

I thought about this for a while, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any stories or snippets on here where a conditioned Whumpee—to the extent you’re talking—recovers on their own. There’s always a caretaker to coddle them and coach them through it and honestly, this is a great idea and there should be a lot more of solo recovery arcs. Anyways, here’s a few of my thoughts

Out of necessity. At one point they realize inside their broken mind that acting like how they are, living off the streets between dumpsters, in the back of alleys, lashing out at anyone and anything that comes close to them, isn’t assisting in survival. At one point, they’re so starving and they’re cold, the only way to receive help in that moment is to mimic the behavior they see. They follow some old fellow in a tattered coat to a soup kitchen, copy their actions leading in, and eventually once they’re served a warm meal and passed a blanket, that begins everything.

They would have to desensitize themself to the sounds and sights that would have once sent them into a panic. The world is loud and bright and full of people, none of which is going anywhere, and unless they want to die on the side of the road they have to learn to live with it

I imagine them almost like a stray dog. Stalking the roads, growling at anyone who comes too close, digging for crumbs in the trash cans behind bakeries and cafes.

Slowly, they’re forced to learn how to read and count again, how to speak and how to act. It’s all about survival. If they say “hello, please,” and smile, maybe someone will drop a few pieces of paper into their palm, and they’ve since learned that that paper can be traded in the big buildings for food.

They copy what they see, good and bad. They’ll slip things from the store into their pocket and run when it sets off alarms. They’ll do anything they can for food, and if they can’t find food they’ll beg any random stranger that they pass. They learn quickly they can’t resort to aggression anymore, that anger will lead to consequences.

Yeah that’s really all I got, for the “no caretaker at all” part at least. Mimicking what they see and basically teaching themself how to be human again from that. If you’d like me to do another piece with feral whumpees and single caretakers, lmk!