#i should've made this its own post but i didn't realize until i was way too far into it lol oops | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kylesvariouslistsandstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Even More About TOY STORY 5

Usually, these kinds of announcements make me think and rethink and sometimes overthink the nature of animated movie sequels made in the West, but also just the way some sequels are done...

Some people on twitter did ask aloud... Why the hype for a fifth SHREK, but not a fifth TOY STORY movie? A lot of the answers were, reasonably, to the tune of "TOY STORY had *two* definitive endings"...

That's a great explanation.

There's a real finality to both TOY STORY 3 and TOY STORY 4, unusual for animated family movie sequels made to two already blockbuster, beloved, popular animated movies in a capitalist American landscape. Especially ones coming from a conglomerate as massive as Disney... And if there's one thing we should've realized over the past 5-10 years, it's that it is never over until they pass away... Almost like one's life. Someone I know on Twitter put it that way in the wake of the TOY STORY 5 announcement. Not that Woody or Buzz or any of the gang died, but the endings were like goodbyes... TOY STORY 3 was the gang's goodbye to a young adult Andy, and TOY STORY 4 was Woody's goodbye to his long-time family. I mean, how do you go on from there? A new story for just Woody? A new story for Buzz and the Bonnie's room gang? Do Woody and Bo go traveling and pay a brief visit to Bonnie's room to check in on Buzz and the gang? I think retconning the ending of TOY STORY 4, no matter how divisive it may have been, would be kind of cowardly. Director Josh Cooley and the writer made their storytelling choices, no matter how they'd be received... The next filmmaker to take on these characters and world ought to make their own mark, just like Cooley did with his film.

Maybe it could be, as I stated in an earlier post on here... A story that starts fresh with a whole new gang of toys? After all, the title *is* TOY STORY... Not WOODY AND BUZZ. Close one door, open another to a new room? Would the filmmakers at Pixar even consider doing that? A franchise as old and as massive as STAR WARS can't even get away from the Skywalkers or the familiar eras of its universe for a minute, so I doubt that TOY STORY would do that. People are there for those movies because of the characters to begin with, I reckon. That's likely why LIGHTYEAR had a hard time at the box office this past summer; it features Buzz Lightyear, yes... But it wasn't the comical and dutiful toy Buzz voiced by Tim Allen who was pals with the Woody doll. Nor was it the funny space ranger Buzz as seen in the TV series BUZZ LIGHTYEAR OF STAR COMMAND. I think that was partially a turn-off for audiences, it deviated too much from the character everyone is familiar with. Audiences must've looked at those trailers and thought it was supposed to be like a cynical, gritty reboot of something associated with a family franchise. Almost like an animated equivalent of one of those recent remakes of a Disney animated feature.

I reckon TOY STORY 5 will at least star someone from the originals.

Who is to say it can't be a midquel? If the ending of TOY STORY 4 is such a concern, there could be a story set at Andy's house, or Bonnie's house between the events of TOY STORY 3 and TOY STORY 4. TOY STORY 4 notes that about two years had passed since the ending of TOY STORY 3, and the two TV specials - TOY STORY OF TERROR! and TOY STORY THAT TIME FORGOT - took place between the two... They just can't call it TOY STORY 5, then... But no matter. Pixar already made a prequel with MONSTERS UNIVERSITY some 10 years ago. Several other recent Disney releases across all their outlets have gotten prequels and midquels and such. For me personally, maybe a midquel is the best route they can go. They can still have Tom Hanks and Tim Allen as Woody and Buzz together, though the existence of the movie *could* still somewhat feel weird... Didn't TOY STORY 4 *just* happen? Didn't that just *end*? But it's either that, a new adventure set after TOY STORY 4, or possibly a full-blown prequel that details Woody's life when he was Andy's father's toy in the '50s/'60s.

I also thought about something else... Actually, this is something I always have stored in my file-cabinet brain...

Pixar, and by extension, Western animation's weird history with sequels... Which I did an article on not too, too long ago.

When The Walt Disney Company acquired Pixar in early 2006, it put an end to the strict original contract that Pixar signed back in 1991. The three-film deal that added a five-film deal on top of it. The veru contract that *didn't allow them to make sequels*, which absolutely played into the rift between the two parties that TOY STORY 2's existence created in the early 2000s. TOY STORY 2 happened because it was supposed to be a direct-to-video sequel produced by a B-team at a different studio altogether. Keep in mind that Disney was likely scared off of doing theatrical animated sequels after years of flop sequels and one of their own - THE RESCUERS DOWN UNDER - coming up short at the box office. No truly successful Western animated movie sequel existed until TOY STORY 2 came out.

Pixar then took over this DTV affair, were able to get it bumped to theatrical status, but Disney did not count it as part of the contract and initially agreed to *not* put worth any more sequels without Pixar's permission... Which meant that no sequel was in the cards, period, for a long while... Imagine, if the rules hadn't been so strict, how many sequels we would've gotten between 1999 and 2010. We would've at least had a TOY STORY 3 by 2005, and possibly an A BUG'S LIFE sequel too, being one of the looser and breezier Pixars that arguably could've gotten a followup back then.

Now, things got heated in 2004, when Pixar was looking to split from Disney after their original contract was up following the pending completion and release of CARS (back then aiming for a fall 2005 debut, almost exactly a calendar year after THE INCREDIBLES). Disney had first rights to those movies and characters made up until that point, and while there was a gentleman's agreement between them and Pixar that promised no Pixar-less sequels made without Pixar's blessing, Disney went back on it. They played dirty, they played hardball. They readied Pixar-less sequels - TOY STORY 3, MONSTERS, INC. 2: LOST IN SCARADISE, and FINDING NEMO 2 - at a newly-minted studio called Circle 7 Animation... By 2005, it wasn't looking good, and it put fans at an interesting fork in the road...

Of course, the story ended with then-CEO Michael Eisner stepping down from Disney in September 2005, his replacement Bob Iger initiating the $7b purchase of Pixar in early 2006, and Pixar operating free of contract and able to make the movies - including sequels - that they wanted to make. It's no surprise that the first new movie they announced that was in development, post-acquisition, was *their* TOY STORY 3 and not the Circle 7 movie with Buzz Lightyear being recalled to Taiwan. Though not announced till 2010, MONSTERS UNIVERSITY went into active development right around that time, too.

But let's pretend it's mid-2005 again... What if Pixar did leave? It would mean that they wouldn't have made the sequels to their pre-RATATOUILLE movies. Post-RATATOUILLE movies, wherever they would've been made, would've absolutely gotten sequels. Disney/Circle 7 would've cranked out their TOY STORY/MONSTERS/FINDING/INCREDIBLES/CARS movies, and possibly an A BUG'S LIFE sequel for good measure... This would've been a wildly different timeline, to say the least. The original filmmakers were around, but not able to make the sequel to *their* first few films made for Disney... But they also wouldn't have had to have made sequels to appease Disney shareholders... It's almost like a weird red pill-blue pill situation. Either path opened or would've opened a Pandora's Box...

For me personally... At least the Pixar sequels are being made at Pixar, with as much of the original creators involved as possible. I know most folks on the Internet made it official that the likes of MONSTERS UNIVERSITY and FINDING DORY and INCREDIBLES 2 and TOY STORY 4 were factually subpar movies, but they were at least made by a lot of their originators. I also happened to quite like, and in some cases even love those films. INCREDIBLES 2 is one of my favorite animated movie sequels, actually, but most people in the internet film and animation circles seem to really not like it much. Though, you could argue that the Circle 7 movies would've been made by fresh blood bringing their own unique take to the material? I don't know if that would've happened in a theoretical scenario where Pixar and Disney Co. *did* split in 2005: Disney in those final years under Eisner was not a pretty landscape on the animation end of things... Disney Feature Animation's morale was at a terrible low under execs like David Stainton, and they released a string of box office disappointments (many of which also got mixed to poor critical reception) tempered by one lone hit. Many animation fans found the direct-to-video Disney sequels to be of poor quality, too... So, would the Circle 7 movies had been any better under those circumstances?

That's the weird thing about that biz. You gain one thing, lose another, vice-versa. There's never a perfect scenario going forward, as there is always a sacrifice. Maybe there is potential in an alternate timeline where sequels to TOY STORY/MONSTERS/NEMO/INCREDIBLES/CARS are so-so under Disney/Circle 7 while Pixar thrives with their post-RATATOUILLE originals and sequels to those movies. Maybe not.

This brings me back to the question... Why the hesitance to see Woody and Buzz again, but not other animated movie sequels?

The thing is, like I said earlier... Things don't end. There will be, for instance, STAR WARS and Marvel and DC and probably even FAST & FURIOUS movies til the end of movies. Animated movies are no exception, money absolutely drives these decisions, as do audiences' love for the characters. Look at how PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH is doing. Look at how MINIONS: THE RISE OF GRU did. If there can be more, there will be more... The only $1b-grossing movie that can't feasibly get a sequel is TITANIC, everything else in this world is fair game under the more-more-more capitalism of Hollywood. Everything is rebooted or brought back. Remakes of animated movies, previous iterations of superheroes appearing in new films (i.e. Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield's respective goes at Peter Parker showing up in SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME, Michael Keaton and Ben Affleck's BATMAN showing up in THE FLASH this summer), legacy sequels like TOP GUN: MAVERICK, etc. etc. It's just the way the tides have been flowing, and animated features made into boffo box office hits by large swaths of families are no exception... No matter how the filmmakers choose to end the individual chapters.

Heck, why do those live-action and all-CG tech demo Disney remakes exist? Partially because the originals were 2D animated movies, direct-to-video sequels were made to them already, 2D is barely used for features like that at the big studios these days, most of those movies are way older and had completely different crews working on them under completely different circumstances... Like, there's a reason Jon Favreau's LION KING and the upcoming MUFASA prequel exist, but *not* a proper LION KING sequel made at Walt Disney Animation Studios in 2D or in a PAPERMAN-esque CG style that's being used for their upcoming WISH. The majority of these remakes made a lot of money, they are the brand extensions of the original animated classics if actual canon made-in-house sequels are not or can not be. As such, tech-demo LION KING has a prequel, a live-action ALADDIN sequel was lined up a while back, ditto a tech-demo (with one live actor) JUNGLE BOOK follow-up.

Some tend to be more open-ended than others, though. TOY STORY 3 and TOY STORY 4 are supposedly definitive ends, but billion dollar grosses talked... SHREK FOREVER AFTER may have closed the book on SHREK, but a $700m+ worldwide gross sure as hell talked, so it was never going to be the true ending anyways. DreamWorks may have planned to just make PUSS IN BOOTS movies from there on out, but shit happened, DreamWorks had financial troubles up until Comcast bought them (who no doubt want lots of new sequels from them, see BOSS BABY 2/3, TROLLS 3 and KUNG FU PANDA 4 happening), so... SHREK 5 is a definite, and it *was* on the boards well before Comcast bought them, too. They were talking about making one as far back as 2014, only four years after SHREK FOREVER AFTER - billed as "The Final Chapter" in the ads - was released... Hell, do you remember when... In 2004... The plan was... Four SHREK movies, a SHREK prequel, *and* PUSS IN BOOTS as a direct-to-DVD movie? Again. Never over. TOY STORY 4 is just the end of that particular story, as was SHREK FOREVER AFTER. There is no "final chapter", unless everyone gets killed off... Then a reboot happens, new timeline, new universe-whatever... But that's not happening in one of these movies.

It only ends when the grosses don't come in... Pixar likely won't make a CARS 4 because the third movie barely broke even, if at all, and toy sales for it were underwhelming as well. CARS ON THE ROAD, the Disney+ series that debuted this past September, could've evolved from the canceled fourth feature film from a director (Steve Purcell) who helmed many of the show's episodes. It kind of felt like a condensed road trip, a silly throwaway fun movie that leans into - arguably - the franchise's strengths. I wouldn't be surprised if CARS ON THE ROAD is a reworked version of the unmade CARS 4. On the DreamWorks end of things, there would likely never be a sequel to PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR, which was a "flop" to their estimation. A fourth MADAGASCAR movie proper, though? Yeah, likely. I'm surprised it hasn't been hinted at or announced recently, that's one of the original DreamWorks franchises, the 2nd movie of theirs to get a sequel (not counting PRINCE OF EGYPT's direct-to-video spin-off JOSEPH: KING OF DREAMS) after SHREK. Sony Animation may say that HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA: TRANSFORMANIA was the end, but I kind of doubt that. Netflix movies may not collect blockbuster grosses, but that doesn't stop sequels from coming: See... Ahem, THE SEA BEAST 2. Universal still plans on making a LEGO MOVIE 3 despite how poorly Warner's LEGO MOVIE 2 and NINJAGO did at the box office. Outside of those heavies... Don't expect, say, a NUT JOB 3 to ever happen. Again, a gross says all, and not the way the thing ends...

And I totally get being upset about that. There's something nice about a story that closes the book and wraps things up. All good things come to an end, right? Well, that end takes forever in Hollywood and in the Western feature animation industry, for sure. There's also the option of departing the train if you don't feel like staying onboard anymore. Maybe some of these franchises should make like comics and just reboot. Start over. All new storyline, all new timeline, things happen differently... Leaves the story you like untouched and with a definitive ending, but continues the franchise. What if TOY STORY 5 was just that? Not at all a continuation of TOY STORY 4, or at all set in that world that the filmmakers created and played with for so many years?

At this point, to me, it really *is* like comics... 50, 60, 70, 80+ years later, there are still stories featuring iconic characters like Batman and Spider-Man. Reinventions, so many iterations of different characters... I think that's what it's all becoming, but in big budget movie form. Look at manga and anime, for example. How many POKEMON, DRAGON BALL, SHIN-CHAN, DETECTIVE CONAN and DORAEMON movies are there, again? They'll only stop if people stop going to see them. If one of these stories ends like, say, a bleak drama, then they won't get sequels... So little by little, I start to fall off of the "it's the definitive ending" thing. Maybe for you personally, it is. I might have a cut-off myself, depending on what TOY STORY 5 is about. I've kind of fallen off the STAR WARS train, as far as live-action goes...

It's a very sequel-heavy world, and TOY STORY 5 is just further proof of that, but it's interesting how a fifth movie in one franchise is perceived vs. how the other one is...

#toy story 5 #toy story #pixar #sequels #unorganized thoughts

11 notes · View notes

freezing-turtle · 12 days ago

Text

Art Month 2024 is complete! I have once again overcome this challenge, having (hopefully) grown far stronger than I was before! My roster of Drawn Characters is certainly more full than it was before.

This post is going to be a sort of master-post of all the posts of Art Month 2024, an easily scrollable listing with a bit of commentary and reflection here and there. It'll be below the break (assuming I do this right). Feel free to point out your favorites, and maybe share this (or the individual posts) with others who may find the artwork cool or neat. Thanks for being here with me this October, I am taking a bit of a break from drawing for now (need to recover physically with Rest and mentally with Gaming).

Day 1: Watermelon Teto I don't remember why I went with the Majima Melon meme, but I'm satisfied with it.

Day 2: Furina I feel like I enjoy the mini-Furina more than the actual main image. She's just so silly.

Day 3: Cheryl Was very happy about the background on this one, actually. It still takes longer than just a flat color or gradient, but this style of background painting is still pretty quick. This is also when you can say I turned the makeup up to 11, and yeah. I just find it fun, and can't really do much with it irl, so it works its way into my art rather often.

Day 4: Shantae I did not realize Shantae had this much pull. This one got a lot of traffic and hype, at least compared to the rest. I do like it on its own merits, I feel like I adopted parts of the original style well, but yeah, it shocked me a bit. Again on backgrounds, though, I feel very confident with my clouds these days.

Day 5: Spirit Tracks Zelda Feels well-made, but almost doesn't feel like its mine as much because of how closely I stuck to the original artstyle. Also, I'm not so happy about the background. It's fine, but it sure took a while for it to just be "fine."

Day 6: Balatro This was very well-liked by the official Balatro Discord server; I think it helped that most people focused on imagining/ reimagining joker cards, so this was a lot more fresh.

Day 7: Bunnies I felt it was important to have some requests in here, and spread out, so that I could maintain motivation by saying "I have to get to at least here so I can make this for my friend!" It's a different flavor of motivation, which I think keeps things fresh and functioning well. I made the designs for these two, then went to check, and I realized the black bun was a boy bun, but didn't want to redo the whole thing, so I just decided he would be a femboy in this.

Day 8: Sakuya The rare animated work from me. I'm really unfamiliar with CSP's animation tools (and animation tools in general), so it was a bit of a struggle making this work right. Previous frames of the knife kept appearing behind the current frame until I moved everything to the right on the timeline, then the frames disappeared as expected. I don't know why or how that fixed it.

Day 9: Reina I'm not very satisfied with this one. I know very little about the character, and I feel like it just doesn't look right, but people who know her seem to have enjoyed it, so I guess it's alright.

Day 10: Sigune This might just be my best art in general? Like, this one went so well. Strong expression, good fore/middle/back ground, everything is lined decently well, it's just a really strong piece. "My Best" might be subjective, I could shift it around depending on criteria and how I'm feeling; it's almost certainly the most detailed illustration this character has ever gotten, though. I don't think I've seen anyone else draw her this well.

Day 11: "Rare Occurrence" This one felt silly, but still pretty good. More painterly, and mostly background, which I used in-game screenshots to help guide me on (mostly just the center mountain). I probably should've thrown a ToP in the background, better solidify the AH reference. Was kinda surprised to find that people used to hate this episode, though, it permanently altered my ability to see pink and brown sheep, and I thought it was the origin of Ray's "ENDERMAN!" voice clip, but I didn't rewatch the full thing to check.

Day 12: Palutena I did not consider what effect the cropping would have given her outfit. I just didn't want to draw all those details, there's just so many bits. I also wanted to draw a girl with gold makeup, and a goddess of light seemed like a strong fit. I think it was a strong idea, but my execution on the face wasn't all there, in my eyes.

Day 13: Athena Cykes Painting over the courtroom background like that probably wasn't necessary, but it's pretty alright, at least. I tend to prefer shorter, untied hair, but these wild ponytails with strong shapes are fun to draw as well. Same sort of deal as with Miku (or Teto).

Day 14: Femme Joker [P5] I thought this one was going to spread better than it did. It's okay, though. I'm happy enough with the posing, and drawing male characters being feminine is fun in a slightly different way to drawing female characters being feminine. Probably has something to do with my transier feelings, we don't need to get deep into it, though.

Day 15: Super Hat Witch Sort of a different format so I could show off more of the concept of what the character does, rather than a simple pinup or whatever. I'm glad the requester found the hat to be sufficiently Big, I kind of expected at least a joking "the hat should be Bigger."

Day 16: Skyla & Elesa I hid Shadow the Hedgehog in the background, he's in one of the windows, barely visible. Another one where I feel like I could've done better, especially around the faces, but the concept felt very nice and was a nice twist on what I was seeing in most of the trending Skyla art.

Day 17: Hisami Yomotsu Between this and Sakuya, Touhou Tumblr was surprisingly kind to me (surprising in the fact that I didn't really expect it to be here and be active in spreading stuff like what I made)

Day 18: Nifl & Fjorm There's this artist I follow who is a big Nifl fan, and I shared this in her server, and she seemed really happy and excited about what I made, so that felt pretty great. I also like what I did here; faces were a little experimental, mixed results a bit, but Nifl definitely looks good to my (present-day) eyes.

Day 19: Mirror Maiden I really like Mirror Maidens. The closest thing we have to a playable Mirror Maiden is maybe Layla, who is another one of my favorite Genshin characters, but I want her to have the blue lipstick (and also to not get screwed out of appearing in all the new Sumeru content, she just got left out of the Sumeru group photo in the current Event going on, I'm mad about it).

Day 20: Guildmarm I think I forgot to add a layer to show the glass of her glasses more properly, but it's a very minor thing. I wish MH4 was on something other than the 3DS.

Day 21: Bowsette Felt good about my modifications to the more standard Bowsette designs. The green eye makeup felt really appropriate here, capturing the green part of Bowser's head that usually gets left out. Background was cool, too. Probably could've put more thought into the floor tiles, but, nah.

Day 22: Dark Magician Girl I still don't really get the rules of YGO, but I imagine she's playing (or trying to play) a Spellcaster deck of some kind, based on the fact that the [Spellcaster] tag was on the card I used as a reference image.

Day 23: Queen Deltarune I tried to put not that much effort into this and it still did well. Oh-ho-ho. Also, nobody's pointed out the Cool S. I felt like it fit.

Day 24: Gumi-Mew This one had a lot more effort, it was kind of like a birthday present. Really happy with the dynamism in the pose, it's maybe not perfect for rounding the corner like that, but kinda rocks.

Day 25: Poison I think this is where I realized I was getting fatigued mentally. I was still doing alright, but I was needing to take more and more breaks. Really sleepy.

Day 26: Pyra Definitely wish I had remembered the animal hoodie. Probably would've been harder to draw, but I think it's cuter. Also, this one got a bunch of people to tell me to finish playing Xenoblade Chronicles 2; I'm sure it's good, but I just have other priorities at the moment.

Day 27: Spooky Corrin Another one where I hoped it would've been more popular. I've seen a lot of her this year in particular, but maybe I was just looking for it this time. Still happy about it, I think the little dragon form is cute.

Day 28: Creepyfrogsta "You've met with a terrible frog, haven't you?" is still just hilarious to me. It's good to break things up with something silly and fun every now and again. Get that variety in there, it helps pass the Art Month (in case you wanted advice on how to complete on yourself [probably don't dive right in with a full, 31-day month. Maybe start with just a week if you feel unsure]).

Days 29 and 30: Hexed Trainers Had to fuse two days somewhere to slip under Tumblr's 30 image limit, this combo made the most sense by far. Modified it to also have my regular Hex Maniac from Art Month 2023 in the background (as well as using that background because it's better). I would be lying if I said I didn't at least kind of want to be transformed into a cute goth/ gothy girl. Most types of girl would already be a good start.

Day 31: Aversa Costume I think my shading could've maybe been better, some details aren't perfect, but I was fighting my way to the finish line, and sometimes you just have to be happy with whatever you can get done. I can do better in the abstract, but I couldn't do better in that moment, and that's an important thing to keep in mind, you know? I hope this will be good for me in the end. I don't know if Art Month 2025 will be a thing yet, but we'll see.

Thank you for making it all the way to the end, this post and all the art in it took a lot of time to make happen. I appreciate your support, I'm glad that if nothing else, I can make people's days a little bit better using the skills I've been practicing for years.

#art month #art month 2024 #my art #digital art #artists on tumblr #my art compilation #I'm not adding every single tag for everything in here #You can if you want but I'm tired

1 note · View note

elisethetraveller · 1 year ago

Text

Continued from; misstantabismuses

See link for old post as Tumblr glitches when I try to add it

Fury was not something that came easy to the pale mage. Her anger was a mellow thing, bubbling like a slow tide until it grew into a drowning force. However, that did not mean it wasn't resting beneath the surface, ready to breach once provoked. And Elise's patience only extended so far. The market was not a place of peace; nowhere in Zaun was, however, it was, or should've been, a place of safety. One of the few of its kind in Zaun, and sacred because of it.

It didn't help that the market was, besides the medical den, one of the spaces where the mage spent most of her time. The trading folk brought in stories from the rest of the world, and most were more than willing to talk with the healer when they had the time. She'd even established a few trading agreements of her own, exchanging the coin that came her way for herbs and remedies for the medical den. Not that Silco didn't keep the place well-stocked, but after a particular round of sickly months, the healer realized that the traders didn't always know the value of their wares, making acquiring them challenging. And while she was slowly sharing her knowledge with the volunteer nurses, none of them could yet boast the experience needed to examine an unknown plant for its medical properties.

Silver eyes glancing across the carnage, there was a bitter sense of relief to be found in the fact that this was at least the market and not the medical den. The sick and injured made for sorry targets, but if they were bold enough to attack Bridgewaltz Market… Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, there was a fleeting taste of iron before her magic healed the wound. Something old twisted and turned in her mind, considerations of war and fire and blood and screams and terror passing her mind's eye before she blinked, and they were gone. The market was symbolic. It was stability and trade but also an agreement managed under Silco's watching eye. Whoever these attackers were, they wanted to topple that. Or perhaps she was thinking about it too deeply, and they were just hooligans trying to make a statement and a name for themselves.

"They brought barrels." There was a cruel sense of luck to the fact she'd been here during the attack. "Though I didn't see what they did with them." No doubt it had been some kind of fuel. Something to stoke the fires so they burned quick and hot. The prickling smell of burnt canvas mixed with the scent of blood and guts.

Brow furrowing, Elise tried to remember what had happened. Epinephrine was a tricky bedfellow, and as crucial as it was in the moment, it clouded the memories afterwards. Picking at a loose thread in her sleeve, the white-haired woman sighed in frustration. They had rushed the square, though from where she hadn't seen. Above? Bellow? No… They had come from the alleys. They weren't firelights. The haphazardness of the attack alone spoke to that, but their masks had been different. A crude facsimile, perhaps. And their clothes more orange than green. The sore muscles in her abdomen flexed and twitched. A few shards of shrapnel had lodged themselves into the soft flesh, but they and the wound were long gone. All that was left were the hole and a patch of fabric dyed an eerie shade of crimson. She would mend it once she got home.

Attention returning to the matter at hand, Elise turned with Silco as Sevika approached. Moving closer as Silco was handed something, the mage looked on curiously as he examined the former explosive. Technology, chem-tech or otherwise, was not her forte, and it wasn't long before her attention slipped from the device to Silco himself, awaiting his conclusion.

"The liquid in the barrels was a different colour, more brown, so that's at least something. They're not carrying the chemical around in bulk." And if they were lucky, Jinx would be able to tell them more about the manufacturer. "I saved the shrapnel from everyone I have treated so far." Including what had been lodged in her own side. Holding out a leather pouch, she gestured for Silco to take it. "I imagine they filled the bombs with whatever was at hand, so maybe Jinx can discern something from that as well."

Looking back at the woman already limping away, it took a moment for the pale mage to match her recollections with her own experiences. "According to her, there were at least a dozen attackers, though I counted around eight." It was a natural response to assume that there were more attackers than present. "I suspect they were using the small explosives to mask their numbers on top of the general…" She gestured out to the corpses and limbs strewn about.

"After that, the details she could give were general at best; they were masked, had guns, and were loud. Mixed genders though they all sounded young." Though that was hardly a surprise. "She swore several of them had tattooed eyelids, however." It was the one helpful detail the woman had given, though the mage couldn't say how reliable it was. "Do you know any gangs with that as their identifying marker?"

( @misstantabismuses )

#ic #misstantabismuses #death #violence

0 notes

kaijuposting · 1 year ago

Text

I've gotten a few replies to this people who apparently missed where a major point of this post was to say, "being x-ist to people can really come back to bite you in the butt when you realize that you fall into the category you were x-ist to them about."

Yes, even if they're bad people.

Like the guy who considers himself progressive but mocks his political enemies for being "autistic," only to later on realize that he's autistic.

Like the gal who considers herself a feminist, but mocks any woman for her weight whenever that woman is one of the "bad" people, then gains weight.

Autistic Guy spent so long shaming people he didn't like for being autistic that "autism is bad" is now firmly entrenched in his mind. And now that he knows he's autistic, he can't stop from feeling that this makes him bad.

Former Skinny Gal likewise reinforced the belief that fat = bad every time she made a mean comment about someone's weight. Now that she's fat, she feels worthless, ugly, etc. Because that's the narrative she cultivated for herself about fat people.

"But Ethan was just a normal guy!" No, Ethan was privileged, and he clearly never had to unpack his privilege, much less examine the prejudices that came with it.

"But they wanted to kill him!" And the GOP wants to kill me but you'd never catch me throwing ableist slurs at them.

"Ethan never had time to think any of this through!" Both games take place over a period of 24 hours, during which Ethan spent a lot of time meandering around. Also, literal years passed between RE7 and RE8. He had time.

"But he was in the situation and you're looking at it from the outside!" I'm applying the same knowledge, observational skills, and critical thinking I apply to real life situations and environments.

"But the stuff you're talking about never could have happened because that's just not who Ethan is!" That was literally the whole point of the original post. Good job missing it.

"So you're saying Ethan should've just given the Bakers, the lords, and Miranda a hug and a kiss?" No, I'm saying that I think it would've been cool if Ethan had realized that he could influence the mold in a way that would've totally pulled the rug out from under Miranda. Would've really been freaking awesome if he'd realized he could weaponize it. Because I am Cranky from my own Trauma, and I enjoy a little "seizing and using your abuser's own weapons against them" as a treat. I'm not saying that this should have happened. I'm just saying that I, Personally, would have enjoyed it.

Also I'm Cranky at the mold getting treated like a villain, when it was literally just vibing there until Miranda started fucking around with it. The mold is just a natural organism that didn't do anything wrong. Hell, it might even be a keystone species in the region. That memory absorption thing it does? Possibly a way of learning more about its environment so it can keep said environment in balance.

Now, destroying the bioengineered, non-native mold in Louisiana? Yes, that makes sense. Destroying the native organism in its native habitat? That's literally ecocide, and that will always bug the hell out of me.

Thinking thoughts about Ethan Winters

Been trying to dissect the character of Ethan Winters to try and figure out what makes him tick, and y'know what-

The vibe I'm getting is the kind of guy who's just hostile to everything that feels weird to him because he's afraid it's going to ruin his image as a Normal Guy. I feel like a reason this scares him is because he knows it's all he has going for him.

He's not particularly charming. He's not especially clever. He's likely spent his life coasting by on being a conventionally attractive cis white guy.

The kind of vibe I'm getting is similar to Betty Draper from Mad Men - going through the motions of a life that doesn't actually bring him any joy because he's internalized that this is just what you have to do.

In both RE7 and RE8, Ethan kills a bunch of people while believing that he and they have absolutely nothing in common. In Ethan's mind, he's normal, but these other people are all just monsters, and that's that. He sees no point in considering why they're like this and how they feel about their circumstances. Eveline is, I think, the most outstanding example of this. She's literally just a neglected, traumatized kid, acting out in a way that neglected, traumatized kids can do (albeit with a capacity to cause harm amplified by virtue of having a biology that other kids don't). Ethan never once registers the utter tragedy of Eveline, and he directs his anger toward the traumatized child, not at the adults who traumatized her.

In RE8, Ethan kills the four lords, whom he also regards as nothing more than revolting monsters that he has nothing in common with. He is, after all, just a Normal Guy. Not a Mutant Freak. He could never. Right?

And well, that's when Ethan discovers that he isn't just a Normal Guy (at least, in his reckoning of what constitutes a Normal Guy.) He's been a megamycete mutant for awhile now. He doesn't really and truly process this, he doesn't really think about what it means; he just soldiers on in his quest. And then he dies.

Diagetically, this is explained as the consequence of Ethan being critically injured and exhausted. It's implied that he might have even survived if he hadn't decided to fight Miranda. But one could argue that thematically, Ethan's death is ultimately caused by his own lack of imagination. He can't imagine how he could possibly go on living as a mutant freak. The narrative he's been telling himself for years, that mutant freaks deserve to die because they are mutant freaks, is probably gnawing at him from his subconscious. Evaline's cruel taunts could be interpreted as reflections of what Ethan himself already believes - one could argue that she's just throwing back the hatred that he's been unknowingly exposing her to for years.

Now of course, since Miranda walled off the village with mold, it's not as if Ethan could've gone to Chris Redfield for help... right? Well, I mean, it sure never seems to have crossed Ethan's mind that he could've just asked the mold to Stop Being In The Way Please and let Redfield and Pals inside.

The thing about the mold is, it's not inherently antagonistic or malicious; it's only as antagonistic and malicious as the people who influence it. So far, we've seen it under the influence of a troubled child and a parent who thinks her precious little girl is entitled to have the whole world. There's no reason to think that Ethan couldn't influence it, if he wanted to.

But for Ethan to recognize this and try to use that information to his advantage, he would have to question many of his assumptions about the monstrous and would have to go off his Normal Guy script. "Become Benevolent Mold Wizard" is a thing that Ethan can't even conceive of, because he's confined himself to a very tiny box that he refuses to leave for fear of what other people would think.

One could argue that what really killed Ethan Winters was a fear-driven refusal to question the meaning and value of "normal." The uncritical fear and hatred he directed toward anything outside of his own perception of normality turned into self-hatred when he finally realized that he himself wasn't normal. And if everyone else was worthy of death by simple virtue of being a "freak," then so, too, was he.

In a sense, I feel like Ethan Winters was always an extremely doomed man. If nothing weird had ever happened to him, he'd have likely gone on acting out the motions of a "normal" life, always afraid of what might happen if he didn't live up to expectations but never really understanding why he never felt any genuine emotional fulfillment. This likely would have led to a midlife crisis where he desperately tried to fill the aching void with all the things society and capitalism tell men that they should find fulfilling. He'd have likely lived as long as anyone with his particular forms of privilege might, but unless he reached a place where he was willing to question his beliefs and fears it would likely have been a very hollow existence.

In conclusion, fuck capitalism and embrace the fungus; the life you save might be your own.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ethan winters #ethan winters analysis

37 notes · View notes

girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years ago

Text

Second To Her // 2

Pairing: Shang-Chi x Reader

Summary: Conversations in the dark are much better

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2

I have one more fic lined up to be posted and then I'll be focused solely on studying for final exams, I hope you all enjoy this one 💕

MASTERLIST

----

Y/N's POV

Groaning for what seemed to be the millionth time I threw the covers off of me and sat up on the bed. It's been a week sleeping in a bed without Shaun to keep me warm and I hate every second of it, yes the pillow he slept on faintly has his scent but I needed him

2:25am

The stupid clock next to me flashed it's angry red colour at me, mocking me. Stretching my hand to the nightstand I grabbed my phone, a smile played on my lips at the sight of my wallpaper; Shaun was hugging me from behind, both our smiles could've lit up a town

I should call him

Chewing on my bottom lip I contemplated if I should, it's late and I don't want to disturb him

Y/N just close your eyes, you'll fall asleep soon enough

Locking the device I returned it to its original spot and attempted to get some rest

------

Shang-Chi's POV

2:40am

I hate this

Sitting up against the headboard I combed my fingers through my hair; I can't take this for much longer

Well, it's technically your fault that you're not next to her

The voice in my head was right, I am the cause of my own misery. I should've told Katy that I couldn't come over that day but she was freaking out and I couldn't leave her like that

Y/N was right, over the week that we've been apart I really thought about all the times I flaked her off to run to Katy whenever we were spending time together and let me just say, it happened way more than I had initially thought

I love Y/N there's no doubt about it; she's kind, intelligent, caring, beautiful and witty, she also packs a mean punch

I miss having her next to me, hearing her voice

I'm an idiot

Call her

Picking up the device I unlocked it, her beautiful face lit up my screen. Opening my contacts, I scrolled down to her name and without any regards to the time, I called her

Please answer

----

Y/N's POV

My eyes opened at the vibrations of my phone. The device lit up and I reached for it

Shaun

Answering it I put the phone to my ear

"Hey"

"Sorry for waking you, I know it's late"

"You didn't wake me up, I couldn't sleep"

"Me either" there was a short pause in conversation, we both just sat there in silence listening to each other's breathing

"Shaun I-"

"I miss you Y/N"

"I miss you too"

"I have have so much to say but I can't say them over the phone, can I come over?"

"Sure"

"Okay, great I'll be there in a few minutes" I hung up and got out of bed. I missed him so much and we really need to talk about us

I made my way down the hall to the living room and turned on the television to occupy myself until he got here. I don't know why I'm feeling anxious, I've seen him so many times before, maybe it's because the last time we spoke we ended up in a screaming match

There was a jingle of keys at the front door before it opened; Shaun walked in and locked it behind him. He stood there awkwardly, visibly fighting the urge to immediately find his way over to me

"That was quick"

"Yeah, well I had to get here before you changed your mind"

I gestured for him to have a seat on the other end of the sofa and he did. He wiped his palms on the grey sweatpants he wore a couple times

"I'm going to speak, I just need you to hear me out" angling himself to face me he continued

"I'm sorry, I know it's a weak ass apology but I truly am. The things you said about me always running off to Katy was right, I hadn't noticed how often that happened until you brought it up" he paused reading me to get a sense on how to continue

"I'm sorry for not realizing what I've been doing all those times, could you forgive me?"

"You're an idiot" his frown deepened not knowing where I was going with this. Getting off the sofa I moved to stand in front of him

"It took you so long to realize what you'd been doing, can't say I'm surprised because I'm not" his eyebrows were drawn together as he waited for me to continue

"You're an idiot, yes" I straddled his lap, his hands immediately resting on my hips, his confusion melted away and a smile now sat on his face

"But you're my idiot, I forgive you but don't ever let it happen again unless she's actually in danger or something is drastically wrong" cupping his face in the palms of my hands I lovingly stared down at him

"I promise, I love you Y/N"

"I love you too"

He puckered his lips and I kissed him, I kissed him like he was the oxygen I needed to breathe. I needed this, him, I needed him. Our innocent kiss quickly turned into a heated make out session, my mouth fell open when he thrusted his hips upwards brushing his hardening member against me

As if I weighed nothing, Shaun stood up and took us to the bedroom. I left kisses along his jaw and down his neck as be laid me down on the queen sized bed

"You know, I think we were in the middle of something last time" his voice was an octave lower; he undid the buttons of the shirt of his I wore to bed

"My memory is a bit foggy, remind me"

Let's just say that he did remind me of where we left off, how beautiful I was and how much he loved me, many, many times.

----

Part 2 as requested!

@fofocuddlypooops

#shang chi smut #shang chi x reader #shang chi x y/n #shang chi imagine #shang chi #marvel imagine #marvel x oc #marvel x reader #marvel smut

365 notes · View notes

danafeelingsick · 3 years ago

Note

Ooh since it’s his birthday, can we have Diluc dealing with the aftermath of a birthday dinner gone wrong? Perhaps something was sour but he didn’t realize until it’s too late. Emeto ensues.

anon, i think i wrote way too much... i was halfway through this thing when i stopped and re-read your request and realized you didn't specify any caretaker, and the word aftermath kept nagging at me, like, it's supposed to be after. and i wrote a whole birthday party scene. so! i made one part, almost like an alternate ending to what i was writing originally. and i'll post the second part as soon as i'm done with it. but for now, here's your request.

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ, ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1.5

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

PART 1

PART 2

In which Diluc has to deal alone with the consequences of overeating at a birthday dinner.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ alcohol mention, induced vomiting, mentioned fainting, light stuffing, overeating, food poisoning, throat finger!ng

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 3,4k~

❝𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.❞

Diluc found himself silently thanking the wind for leaving the streets completely empty that night. The cold biting breeze left him shuddering, seeming to open gashes into his coat every time it blew over him.

No wonder no one was around, with the city's main tavern closed for the night, and not a single bard to entertain the passersby, why would anyone be? At least no one would see the pitiful face of distaste the young man had, for that he was grateful to the cold wind.

That gratitude, however, didn't extend to its archon, for he knew now the former didn't have a hand in it. As far as he could tell, that drunkard wasn't even in Mondstadt anymore.

The darknight hero suddenly stopped where he was, gripping a nearby wall as he felt a shuddering wave of nausea wash over him, leaving him dizzy and distrustful of his sights. It wouldn't be the first time it happened that night, each step he took would make him feel heavier and heavier.

How could he let this happen? He thought, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as a low sickly belch flew past his lips.

Diluc had been hopeful this dreadful day would go by and none would be privy to it. He had been naive, so naive to think any would respect his wishes, and let him enjoy his birthday in peace.

Was it even his birthday still? He looked up to see the full moon casting its silver light down on him. It should be past midnight by now, just another day like any other.

As it should be. Hell, he should've realized sooner when Charles dismissed him so nonchalantly, saying he could very well take care of the bar on his own. And how cordial the maids had been, when they would normally cower around him. Even Kaeya, who hadn't seen him all day, managed to track him down and refused to leave his side until he came with him to the Knight's headquarters under the guise of some business meeting.

“Ugh…”, Diluc grimaced as he recalled the shouts of surprise, and that slimy smirk on Kaeya's face as he bared his way out.

His gut had already cowered in anticipation as he saw the feast cluttering the table. Diluc wasn't someone weak of stomach, but having so much food crammed in his belly in such a short period ensured a bad time later on. And to top it all off, he was sure something he ate had gone sour.

He wouldn't put it past him, given how unfavorable luck had been to his side that day, and how Kaeya had arranged that impromptu birthday party. Each guest had brought a dish of their own, resulting in varying qualities in culinary and presentation.

The Outrider, Amber as he recalled it, had tried her hand at preparing Sweet Madames and Sticky Honey Roasts, trying to fill in the absence of the traveler as they were out somewhere in a land beyond the sea. After a bite or two, Diluc just couldn't stomach any more of it, the chewy texture and the sheer abuse of seasoning quickly became too much for him, no matter how much she insisted.

While Jean's mushroom pizzas had been a palate cleanser, and Eula's moon pies had been filling enough, there were simply too many dishes to sample properly. And the lingering taste of alcohol in everything Kaeya had cooked… Diluc had his gut complaining under his tight belt in no time.

It was already dark out when he finally got to leave the Knight's headquarters. And now he could only hope no one would spot him like that, staggering his way home in the middle of the night, like a pitiful boozer with nowhere to go.

The former captain scowled as he heard his stomach give a low growl as it tried to settle, viciously churning the heavy mass of food sitting stubbornly inside. He could almost feel it brushing past the inner walls of his guts as he felt it tossing and turning inside.

Paying too much attention to it already had his tongue driving back with weak gags, so instead, he focused on swallowing. Diluc closed his eyes, drowning out his vision that seemed to be slightly tilted. He gulped, once, twice, then breathed through his nose, hoping any voluntary motion would take his mind off the nausea.

The constant intake of saliva only seemed to be adding to the fullness of his stomach, leaving his esophagus with the impression of a ghostly hand pinching it from the inside. His mouth was filling with drool quicker than he could swallow. It was starting to take more and more after the taste of something he had eaten.

“...urp–”, he had to clog his mouth shut as he felt a bubble of air suddenly rise past his gullet, bursting in the back of his tongue with a foul acidic sting.

It tasted like grape juice, he realized with a shuddering exhale leaving his nostrils, how clearly it tasted sickly sweet and strongly acidic, unbearably bitter as it washed over his tongue.

Halfway through the night, he had already drained an entire bottle in between bites, it was the only thing he could properly stomach after eating so much off-tasting food.

Diluc clasped a hand firmly over his mouth when he felt a muffled gag cause his chest to hitch, trying to suppress the clear image of the undercooked meat dripping from his fork, the slimy chewy texture, the bizarre taste.

He could feel something shifting inside his queasy stomach, sending more air to rest in the back of his tongue before he could swallow it. Diluc was desperate for any form of relief from the pressure in his stomach, so he tried to carefully burp behind his hand.

“...guh… buur–”, he let out a startled hiss as his cheeks suddenly bulged out, a watery surge flooding his mouth.

Fuck, fuck. His mind was screaming at him now, shifting all of his attention to the solid clumps of undigested food swirling inside his mouth, rolling over his tongue. He had to– without thinking, he tried swallowing, bit by bit, feeling chunks of undigested meat and boiling acid travel down his throat.

It felt utterly revolting, being forced to taste twice the meal he'd been forced to eat mere hours ago, but he couldn't just let it happen now. It was unthinkable to have him dirtying the streets with the contents of his pitiful stomach. Enough drunkards were left to do this, he refused to become another.

The poor man was wheezing behind his gloved hand, swallowing convulsively as he tried to clear the taste of vomit out of his mouth. Once he could open his eyes again, he shakingly lowered his hand, glancing at it to see there was a smear of drool coating it.

The restless churning of his stomach contents and the loud gurgling sounds only seemed to worsen. He held a clean hand carefully over the curve of his belly, feeling something shift constantly under his skin and his form-fitting clothes.

It felt like his legs were made out of cotton as he took a step forward, followed by another, then another. He had to shift all of his attention into putting one foot in front of the other, right then left, and somehow not mess this up.

His mind was far away as he walked, tracking the way to his home out of muscle memory. On a good night, Diluc would commute in a few minutes, without a single soul spotting him as he stuck to the shadows. Now, he had no notion of time, but no less than an hour had been spent and he was only halfway there.

He could only hope he would have enough control to command his stomach contents down and his legs forward. All he knew was he needed to get home before he had the chance to fall ill again.

***

It was… so cold. The darknight hero had his arms folded tightly over his chest as he started approaching the winery. It wasn't the wind anymore, a ghostly chill seemed to be following him wherever he went, refusing to let go as it cloaked him in a shuddering blanket.

His fingers were nearly numb as he gripped the handle and flung open the front door. A couple of steps inside and it was gone, almost like it wanted to see him home safe, but he didn't let go of his position. Diluc seemed to be operating with muffled hazy orders ringing inside his head, he made a beeline for his bedroom, ignoring, or rather, barely listening to the timid greetings of his servants.

The nausea was now dizzying, muffling his senses as if he was underwater, listening in to the distant sounds of his stomach groaning. The door creaked as he pushed it, then creaked again as he closed it behind him.

He staggered towards his bed and sat, his wary body sinking into the mattress as it begged for a rest. Diluc felt like he could just fall over as he lazily undid the clasps of his boots and kicked them off to a corner.

Next, his coat slid out of his shoulders, falling away to the other side of the bed and disappearing over the edge. He fought a fierce battle against his belts, undoing them with the unskilled fingers of a sickly man.

“...phew”, he let out a puff of air as the pressure over his belly was finally released, ridding himself from his shirt as well as the mere brush of fabric over it spelled discomfort.

Diluc looked down to see his otherwise lean abdomen had been forced into an unusual curve, the skin stretching over it like and taking an odd pinkish tone, making it look too similar to a flustered anemo slime as if puffed out. He dared to graze his fingers over it, morbidly impressed by how noticeably it had altered his shape.

The flesh practically pushed back on his fingers, he could feel how full his stomach was under the outer layers, like the bloated gut of a decomposing carcass. He settled a hand over it, careful as to not apply any pressure, and felt the distinct motion of his stomach twisting under there, almost like a colony of critters writhing inside a trap, wrapped in a ball of cloth, squirming.

He didn't want to think about it, but his mouth was watering profusely, his tongue almost heavy with a thick coating of off-tasting saliva. He could still faintly taste the vomit he had to swallow back multiple times during his way here. Maybe it would be best to just let it out, he thought, feeling his stomach almost jump in agreement.

Diluc rose his eyes and searched his moonlit room, hoping to find anything he could drag under his bed just in case he needed it. He knew he was going to need it, and thankfully, a small bucket had been left from gods know what purpose, maybe some careless maid had left it. He was more than thankful for their incompetence now.

The young master got up, and stumbled towards the wooden bucket, momentarily kneeling in front of it as he thought of just giving up and sleeping right there, safe from the threat of dirtying his bed. His muscles ached from the strenuous walk from Mondstadt city to here, a commute he could easily muster multiple times if necessary, in a better state of mind, of course. But as of now, it left him sore and with ragged breath.

He was definitely drunk, he concluded, of the few meat skewers he had eaten, and the countless glasses of grape juice he had used to wash down the awful parts of that feast. Someone could've easily swapped his drink for wine, and him, with his taste buds fried and mind somewhere greener, would be none the wiser. For that, he swore to strangle Kaeya.

He gripped the bucket as if it was a tender neck and dragged it to the foot of his bed, then to his lap. Part of him wanted to wrap himself in blankets and just hug the bucket until relief came, but the other part barely wanted to move, so he stayed there, slumped over and staring somewhere off, trying to focus on the noises of his stomach.

“ghh…”, he groaned, nausea still swirling inside him, leaving him groggy and miserable, but quite there.

He held his mouth open, panting as he felt pain twisting his inner organs, letting saliva drip into the bucket, the sounds almost sharp in contrast with the silence. His stomach wouldn't stop writhing, loud gurgles coming from it as it tried to mix the food and drink crammed tightly inside, churning but unable to digest any of it.

The sickly man was only able to produce a few short queasy burps as he tried to flex the muscles of his throat. It frustrated him, he was sick and in pain, he needed to get whatever was harming him out but he wouldn't have it that easy. If could go back and curse his past self for cutting his vomiting spell short, he would, but for now, he could only feel miserable about it.

Why only now was his gag reflex being stubbornly strong? He was never like this. At the first sign of someone tampering with his food, he would be quick to pry it out using his fingers, just for safety. He wasn't opposed to vomiting, maybe a little apprehensive about it, but it was something he learned to face as a necessary evil.

Diluc looked at his hand, thinking long and hard about if it would be worth it. He was still wearing his gloves, the bright red and black fabric stood out against his pale marked skin, it was surprising how he managed to miss it.

He had to, he thought, remove the glove with his teeth and set it aside. Shakingly, almost timidly, he raised two fingers and introduced them inside his mouth, carefully trailing the extent of his tongue. It felt awfully warm and tender against his skin, saliva coating his fingers in a thick slimy layer.

“...ha… guh��”, he let out as he reached the gullet, causing a weak gag to make his throat clench around his fingers.

He couldn't stop now, so he went even deeper with the middle one, feeling around the soft meat writhing against his touch. He started stroking his tongue, slowly at first, driving his fingers in and out of his throat. It didn't take long for him to gag harshly, his stomach jumping and landing with a wet slosh, sending its contents crawling up his food pipe.

It wasn't enough to get him to vomit. He kept stroking desperately, his throat clenching, trying to choke out his fingers. He gagged again, so harshly his eyes watered. His stomach inching closer with each stroke.

He waited for another painful gag, the sound of his forced retching scrapping at his throat, leaving it raw and tender. Saliva flowed into the bucket, each harsh cough sending it spraying into his hand, sliding down his skin, and slithering towards his wrist.

He was close, he thought, forcing another gag and quickly retrieving his hand as a wet belch erupted out of him, bile prickling his tongue. So close.

“...ughh… gh…”, he panted, his mouth hanging open as a series of short wet burps left him, each bringing him closer and closer to finally– “huurk–”, he anticipated a small gush of vomit spraying out of him, nearly missing the wooden bucket in his lap as he readjusted his position.

There it was. Diluc nearly winced at the pungent taste of acid on his tongue, it barely resembled grape juice as it fell into the bucket, but he could still distinguish its taste. Far worse than what he had swallowed before.

He went back to stroking his tongue, hoping to rid his stomach of a little more pressure, as that amount meant nothing. This time he wasn't being so gentle, digging his fingers mercilessly into his throat as he felt himself getting desperate.

”...huu… urgGGHH”, he retched into his bare hand, his stomach writhing from the violent motion, but he didn't stop until he felt its contents bubbling at the back of his throat. “BuuUuuUURGHHhh.”

A gush of thin disgustingly warm vomit shot out of his mouth before he could retrieve his fingers, he nearly winced as the sickening boiling concoction completely coated his hand. It dripped unevenly inside the bucket, barely a cup's worth of semi-fermented and acidic grape juice.

Diluc shakingly held his soiled dripping hand over the bucket, panting miserably with threads of drool hanging from his mouth.

He must have looked truly pitiful as he was now, barely dressed, sickly and pale, and even then, struggling to get the offending poison out of his system. His head felt heavier and heavier, his eyes wanting to roll to the back of his skull as his body begged for rest.

His throat was sore and bruised from all the abuse, and still, he hadn't even tapped into the food he'd stuffed into his overtaxed stomach. It gave a low ill growl as it agreed, almost coaxing him into continuing.

With a defeated grumble, Diluc shoved the now cold and slimy fingers into his throat, just the sensation of it, the odd shock of temperature, and the texture of his saliva against his tongue earned a weak unproductive gag out of him.

He tried not to think about it, taking the involuntary motion of his gullet to introduce his fingers even deeper, moving them as if he was trying to pry himself open.

“...ah… ha…”, he panted, trying to squeeze in struggling wet breaths in between audible gags, the air rushing in and out grazing his skin. “hah–”, wheezing with half a hand down his throat maybe had been the answer to his problems, as he nearly choked.

Diluc didn't have it in his mind to muffle the coughing fit that followed, he didn't even bother to remove his fingers, choosing to hold his tongue down as he kept hacking over the bucket. His fit quickly evolved into retching so violently his shoulders were jumping with each one.

“...urggGH–”, he coughed out, feeling something painfully dense climb up his food pipe, cutting his breath short as he struggled with it. His hand was trembling, his nail digging into his tongue out of nervousness

It took a couple of weak shivering strokes for him to finally feel vomit burst out of his mouth, a lumpy dense slurry covered his hand and sprayed up to his upper arm, lumps of nearly untouched food sliding off him and dripping softly on the bucket.

Once he started, there was no stopping it. A heavier wave of vomit splashed inside the bucket followed the first, this one more than just a mouthful, adding a new layer of filth to the bucket.

“EeeeuUURRrrrgh!”

Diluc had his eyes screwed shut as he struggled with each new surge of chunky almost sharp vomit leaving his throat razed. He could feel so clearly the lumps grinding the walls as they left him, pouring into the bucket like unrelenting rain on the roof of his house. His hearing was muffled.

When he could finally breathe properly he found himself slowly slipping forward, the bucket now glued to his chest as the arm laced around it bent awkwardly. Diluc parted his lips only to find two fingers jammed in between them, his teeth buried into them.

He blinked, and how long had passed? Maybe less than a minute, he hadn't properly fainted but still, he desperately needed rest.

Diluc let out a shuddering breath as he adjusted himself, one look at the bucket had his lips hitching into a grimace as he spat out, trying to rid his mouth of the vile taste.

“Fuck… ugh”, he groaned, his voice a husky pained whisper.

At the very least, he had managed to rid himself of some of that cursed food, but he didn't have the chance to savor the relief. He didn't feel any different, arguably he felt even worse.

That didn't matter now. He'd have to deal with that in the morning. Diluc settled the bucket under his bed, not enough energy left in him to even think about getting rid of it.

His body sunk into the mattress, the wooden frame creaking despite how light, shriveled he felt. As soon as the back of his head hit the pillow, he welcomed sleep.

***

#emeto #emetophilia #vomiting #overeating #light stuffing #fainting #induced vomiting #gen/shin imp/act #di/luc #mentioned kae/ya #mentioned je/an #mentioned am/ber #hurt and discomfort #stomach ache whump #nausea #tw alcohol mention #requested #dana//emeto fic #my writing

46 notes · View notes

myheroblogs · 4 years ago

Text

The First User's Quirk Wasn't "Useless"

This was a theory that I had... for over a year. I guess I'm glad I waited because we now know more information about One For All as a quirk.

As you can see, this is a theory about the quirk of the First not being as useless as you may think. When I say his quirk, I'm talking about his original quirk.

It's been stated that the First User's original quirk was ability to just pass itself on. This itself is under the assumption that this ability was indeed the only ability the og quirk had. (Also, what's with this emphasis on the dude being "useless" and "powerless"? Like that's not like someone else we know... *cough* Midoriya *cough*)

Okay, maybe the ability to just pass itself on to someone else is a bit useless, and maybe more harmful than helpful as you know what happens when this thing gets passed on to someone who already has a power.

But what if I told you that there was actually more to the original quirk than we all thought? And this was staring right in our faces this entire time?

While All Might did indeed say that the First User's original quirk may have only had the ability of transfer, we can't exactly see this as reliable information. We've seen him get debunked before, mainly with the vestiges.

The thing is, all the information All Might currently has is information relayed from one user to the next.

This means that everything that we're told about OFA and its power from All Might are most likely just merely assumptions or theories from the past holders of One For All that just got passed down to the current generation. This is the same with All For One, despite him probably being the closest to knowing what OFA is.

This is the one of those instances where we explore deeper into the quirk. Here, we get to see a real visualisation of One For All.

One For All has always been commonly visualized as a flame. Here, we find out that deep within those flames, there's this small, seemingly insignificant dot that has now started to grow in size.

To me, the core seemed to stand out from the flames. Almost as if it's made to appear as something that wasn't a natural part of it.

And then it clicked...

What if this core wasn't a part of the Stockpile quirk, but was actually the original Transfer Quirk that the First User had?

It may seem like I'm jumping the gun, but Banjo's words seem to very subtly imply that the core isn't quite the Stockpile quirk. It's the flames.

The core of One For All is stated to be separate from the Stockpile part of the quirk. It's wrapped up within the accumulated power, but doesn't seem to be the one accumulating it.

With almost 100 chapters later, we see First mentions the growth of the quirk. And he says this.

THIS GUY, who has always been like "our power" this, "our power" that, for brief moment refers to OFA as "my power".

But he wasn't talking about OFA as a whole. He was only talking about that small little core that has grown exponentially.

Alright, so the core may be the First's original quirk. But what does this have to do with the Transfer quirk not being useless?

Well...

It was the core of One For All that has been stockpiling the quirks and consciousness of the past wielders this entire time. And if this core is indeed not the Stockpile quirk, but rather the First's original quirk, this means that the one stockpiling quirks wasn't the power given by All For One, but it was the so called "useless" Transfer Quirk all along.

The Transfer Quirk actually had the ability to also stockpile the quirks of those who previously held the power, as if done so to preserve those who are long gone. It's a lot like what Nana previously said about One For All.

In fact, it may have been the same quirk as All For One, but due to their different will and ideals, the way their quirks manifested their abilities very differently, both of which are able to interact with quirks and the consciousness behind them. I kinda consider these two powers as "Meta Quirks", special quirks where their abilities revolve around quirks itself.

May explain why Midoriya is able to use multiple quirks of OFA. Because despite there being multiple quirks, both OFA and AFO just stockpile them into one quirk, so it technically still counts as just using a singular quirk.

So First's quirk wasn't a useless quirk after all. It had the ability to pass on itself, while also stockpiling the quirks of the past users of the quirk.

But if this is the case... Why did only Midoriya start manifesting the quirks of past users?

It's because of the Stockpile.

It's been stated above that the core has been wrapped up within the accumulated power of the Stockpile. Compared to the huge, great flames of all this power, the core is been shown only a small dot within it.

I believe the Stockpile quirk actually surpressed all the abilities of the First's quirk, except for its ability to pass on itself. Rendering it "useless"

The ability to actually use the quirks held in One For All may have been something that was meant to be it's main ability, meaning all users should've been able to access this. But the Stockpile just simply overpowered the original quirk, so this wasn't able to truly use its power.

The ability of accessing the quirks of those who previously held OFA wouldn't have been noticed up until the Third User wielded it. At that point, the Stockpile would've probably grown enough to completely surpress this power.

So OFA may have gotten a very powerful quirk when combined with the First's original quirk, but at the cost of the true power of the quirk's ability. When you see it this way, it's almost symbolic. AFO somehow managed to surpress the true ability of his brother's power.

(This kinda makes me wonder if the real reason why First didn't use or realized that he had a quirk was because he was made to believe he was quirkless or useless, since we know OFA and AFO follows the will and beliefs of the user...)

Midoriya just so happened to get One For All at the perfect time. When the original quirk finally started to come out of the flames, allowing him properly use the true hidden ability of One For All. Which is probably what Banjo meant with this.

So... TLDR: First User actually had a power that resembled his brother's, which was the ability to pass on his own quirk, and when a quirked user passes it on, it stockpiles probably some copy of their quirk (since OFA is transferred through DNA, which probably has the quirk gene in it), which allowed the current user to wield the quirks of those who originally owned it. It wasn't able to use this ability since Stockpile nommed on the quirk until it started to come out of the accumulated power, which just so happened to occur when Midoriya had it.

Welp, that's what I got. Dang, I'm so glad I finally got this out there, haha. There's a lot of things I wanted to post as well, but then again, wasn't really able to. I'll try to be more active on this blog, especially while I'm more hyperfocused on bnha currently.

I'll see you guys in the next one!

#bnha #mha #bnha manga #bnha spoilers #bnha theory #bnha meta #one for all #ofa #all for one #afo #midoriya izuku #first one for all holder #bnha 304 #bnha 305 #boku on hero academia #my hero academia #daigoro banjo #deku #shimura nana

415 notes · View notes

drownerbrains · 2 years ago

Text

ciri-focused fic recs

since some of you wanted! 😁❤️ @something-more @fangirleaconmigo

several of these authors have other lovely ciri-centered works as well, def have a look if you want even more!

You Carry Me Home by @sargassostories and illustrated by @pokeberry5 :

18k, rated M, completed. set post-s2 of twn, focusing on ciri & yennefer. when emotional turmoil turns to crisis for ciri, yennefer must help. their fears, their magic, their pasts, their relationships with geralt--all are explored as they work together to heal and start a caring relationship. i cried ❤️👍

Overwinter by almostnectarine:

6.5k, rated T, completed. set pre-BoE, a 9-yo ciri is with geralt at kaer morhen. she's rambunctious and spunky, but also clearly hurting from the loss of her family, and determined to find where she fits in this new place. geralt is trying his best to protect her and loves her so much. also: cats! 🐈‍⬛

Fit For Pearls by @bomberqueen17 with a portrait by @bittylildragon and fancomics by sassaffrassa :

135k, rated T, in progress. set post-w3 (in a series that combines canon elements from the books, games, and twn; the rest of the series is a delight but not required to understand this fic), empress-to-be ciri is settling into life in nilfgaard:

mastering court and continent politics; getting to know and starting to court her beautiful and incredibly competent personal assistant, luliana; preparing for emhyr's abdication; getting to know and care for morvran voorhis; navigating the complicated new power dynamics her position brings to her social life; a visit from geralt, and more! fascinating political intrigue and interpersonal relationships--i love seeing how she's reconciling her past with her present and future.

Forget Not Your Seaside Days by @greyduckgreygoose with art on twitter by @handwrittenhello and on tumblr by @bluedillylee :

8k, rated T, completed. an au where ciri is in a shipwreck right after the fall of cintra. she is saved by mermaid and sea-witch yennefer, and ends up on a perilous underwater journey with her. ciri is reeling from the loss of her home, but still so brave and tenacious! yennefer can't help but love her and neither can i.

Sunflowers & Buttercups by xianvar :

4k, rated T, completed. set post-s1 of twn, ciri & geralt are traveling together when they run into jaskier. she is struggling with the trauma of her escape from cintra, and begins to find some ease as she gets to know jaskier through his repeated gifts of sunflower seeds. 🌻

Over a Beer by @childoffantasy :

5k, rated E, completed. set post-w3, ciri meets ves, her fellow swordswoman, while witchering. the two immediately hit it off; pwp ensues, with plenty of appreciation for tattoos, titties, & shoulders. hot and cute, with a fun internal look at how ciri likes to be perceived.

beneath the mistletoe by @limerental :

2k, rated T, completed. a post-canon fic where ciri is up to mischief with her found family as they all gather at corvo bianco for a holiday party. that night, magic allows ghostly visits from the loved ones she's lost as well.

god i love it when someone asks for recs about yen or fringilla or ciri and i'm able to just start pelting them w links to all the beautiful fic and art of them i've slowly, meticulously hoarded...

like yeah finding stuff focused on them can be hard since there's just so much more jaskier or geralt or eskel or etc focused content out there, but the joy of getting to share stuff about my girls with other people who are just as excited about them as i am is so!!!! i get to experience the joy of finding those lovely fics and art for the first time all over again!!!

#ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #fic recs #💀#i should've made this its own post but i didn't realize until i was way too far into it lol oops

67 notes · View notes

peterrparrkerr · 3 years ago

Text

Aliens made them do it - read on ao3

Second card is officially done!! I'll be posting the masterlist tomorrow and will start posting the third bingo card in August!

*-*

Peter doesn't cry. He doesn't. Not when he's separated from Tony and the others, and not when Ronan presses the barrel of an alien blaster to his head.

He didnt cry, because he knew this was a possible outcome to staying on the ship. He knew that there was a possibility that this would happen.

He told Tony he thought this through, and he had.

But damn was he terrified. He shook with fear and cold, on his knees. They'd stripped him of his suit, leaving him in his boxers. He knew space was cold, but he never expected it to be like this.

"They're recruiting young, I see," Ronan hummed, walking around Peter's hunched and trembling form. "They must be desperate."

"I'm stronger than I look," Peter said, putting on a brave face. He was going to die anyway. He wanted to die like Spiderman, not like Peter Parker.

"I'm sure," Ronan hummed. He finishes his lap around Peter before standing in front of him. "Has anyone told you what exactly you were up against before throwing you to the lions?"

The barrel of the gun presses under Peter's chin, forcing him to crane his neck. He swallows thickly, blinking rapidly against frightened tears.

"Something as tiny and fragile as you must know you stand no chance against the almighty Thanos," Ronan continued, not giving Peter a chance to answer -not that he would.

"Its a suicide mission," the blue alien continued. "One that landed you in my grasp, and no closer to Thanos.

"And what to do with you," Ronan hummed, looking deep in thought for a moment. Peter felt his mouth grow dry.

Aunt May would never know what happened to him. He'd leave her all alone. And what happened if none of the other Avengers could stop him?

Would she be one of the ones killed by Thanos? Or would she be left behind. Left wondering if Peter was alive somewhere or gone like the rest of half the population. Peter didn't know which was worse.

"Killing you would be a waste," Ronan continued, oblivious to Peter's inner turmoil. "I'm sure we could find some way to entertain ourselves, hmm?"

Peter's first thought was torture, and he felt his breath hitching. It made Ronan grin, dark teeth juxtaposing against his blue skin.

"Oh, yes, I have the perfect thing for you and your little friends."

Peter tried not to shout when Ronan grabbed him by the hair, but he tugged Peter from his knees, and he couldn't help it.

Peter gripped Ronan's wrist, wincing and whimpering as he was half dragged across the floor.

"I've always wondered how humans worked," Ronan mused. "And now I've got four of them."

"Please-" Peter gasped wetly, tears burning his eyes. Ronan takes him into a dark room and yanks him forward before dropping him.

Peter falls onto his chest, not having enough to catch himself. He coughs as he gets his hands under him, pushing himself off the ground.

A heavy boot lands on his back and shoves him back down, and Peter grunts, scrambling to get up off the floor.

"Now now, no need to make a fuss," Ronan murmured, voice deep. "Bring in the sarcastic one. Take the other two humans and have fun."

"No!" Peter shouted. "Le-leave them alone-"

He's cut off when the boot grinds down on his shoulder blade. He winces, chest heaving as two other blue aliens leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Its best you behave, human," Ronan presses, leaning over Peter, putting more weight on Peter's back. "Your behavior from here on out determines how fast you and your friends die at my hand."

Peter chokes on a sharp exhale, tears spilling over his eyelashes.

It doesn't take long for the doors to open again, and Peter can hear Tony, grumbling and digging himself into a hole, like always.

"Ah, just who we were waiting for," Ronan said cheerfully. "Come join us."

Peter lays on the floor under Ronan's boot, knowing he wasn't strong enough to buck him off.

Tony comes into his line of sight, and he looks pissed. Thdyd taken his suit too, though he had a track suit on underneath.

Peter stupidly wondered if Tony would make his suit able to hide clothes as well -so he didnt have to go around in his boxers- before remembering there wouldn't be a chance to.

"You okay, kid?" Tony asked, eyeing Peter. Peter could only nod.

Ronan removed his boot before bending down and grabbing Peter by the hair.

Peter yelped and scrambled to his feet, and Tony took a step forward, face contortions in rage before two other Kree grabbed him by the arms.

"Humans are so strange," Ronan hummed, pulling Peter in close by his hair. Peter held onto his wrist, wincing and stumbling as he was guided around. "Your customs and traditions have always been odd, though I've never seen them practiced."

Peter whimpers as Ronan draws his head back, exposing his neck. He looks down at Peter just as Peter feels cold metal press into his throat.

"Leave him alone," Tony demands. Peter can't see him, but he knows from the scuffle that he'd tried to charge at them again but was held back. "I swear to God, you kill him and I'll blow this ship to pieces."

Ronan chuckled, eyes alit with amusement. "I'm not going to hurt him yet," Ronan promised.

"Not until I see you fuck him."

Peter's eyes widen at that.

"Fuck you," Tony snapped. Ronan laughed. "No fucking way am I going to do-"

"Either you fuck him, or I kill you where you stand," Ronan growled, aiming the alien tech towards Tony.

"Do it," Tony growled back. "I'm not scared of you."

"No?" Ronan asked. Peter lets out a desperate sob, trembling against the alien. "He seems pretty scared of me."

Peter can't help flinching when the alien blaster is pressed back into his throat.

Ronan then leans down, dark purple tongue poking out between darker teeth. Peter cries out, struggling against his hold as the alien licks a strip up Peter's cheek, from jaw up to his eyebrow.

"Fuckin- leave him alone!" Tony nearly screams. Peter manages to turn his head, but it tightens the hold Ronan has on his hair.

"Fuck him, or I will," Ronan demanded. "And I wont be nice about it."

Peter doesn't think his knees will hold him much longer. He openly cries, breath heaving in his chest.

"You can't-" Peter gasped out.

"Oh, but I can," Ronan said. "Do you think your fragile human body can handle me, little one?"

Peter chokes on a sob, struggling in his hold a little more as Ronan licks at his jaw again.

"I've heard humans tear so easily," Ronan continues, loud enough for Tony to hear over Peter's crying. "Poor thing might die before I even get a chance to fuck him properly."

"Fine!" Tony shouted. "Fine, alright, I'll do it- just- just let him go."

Ronan smiles against Peter's skin, and he's suddenly released. Peter almost drops to the floor, but he catches himself and rushes from the alien, into Tony's chest.

The older man is quick to hold him tight, hashing Peter and holding him tight.

"I'm waiting," Ronan called. "Entertain me."

Peter buries his face deeper into Tony's chest, arms wrapped around his torso.

"Pete," Tony winces, lowering his head. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Peter shakes his head, sobbing breathlessly. He doesn't fight him when Tony pulls him to the floor, the whole time apologizing over and over.

"Just- just lay down, Peter," Tony murmurs, his own hands shaking. "Close your eyes."

Peter sobs as he lays on the cold ground, body stiff and vision blurry.

He can see Ronan and the two other Kree watching them, sitting and smirking together. Peter tries so hard to calm his crying, but it seems to make it worse.

Tony takes Peter's boxers off, kneeling between his legs.

Peter covers himself with his hands, trembling.

"I'm so sorry," Tony murmured, leaning over him. Peter can't look as Tony takes himself out of his pants.

He's never prayed for death before now. He sobs and begs for this not to happen, for Ronan to just kill them and get this over with.

"I'm sorry."

Its the last thing Tony says before pressing into him. Peter arches, a strangled cry forced past his lips.

He can hear the Kree laughing, egging Tony on. Peter sobs as Tony presses all the way in, lowering himself.

Peter realizes he's hiding Peter as best he can, resting on his elbows. Peter wraps his arms around Tony's neck, burying his nose into his shoulder as Tony thrusts into him.

It lasts forever. He knows neither of them are enjoying it. But Peter knows why Tony's doing this. Knows why he chose to do it instead of letting Ronan.

And Peter can't help but love him for it. But he hates him too. Hates that the two of them are in this position.

Mostly he hates himself. He should've listened when Tony told him to go home. If he had just stayed on the bus, Tony and Dr. Strange might've gotten away.

"I'm so so sorry, Peter," Tony whispered against Peter's ear. He sounded wrecked, broken and disgusted with himself.

Peter whimpers against his shoulder as he's fucked into the cold floor.

"Its okay," he manages through his crying. "Its okay, its okay."

Tony just shakes his head, exhaling wetly against him.

Peter feels his balls tighten up, and he hates himself. He sobs and closes his eyes, hiding his face against Tony seconds before he cums.

"Shh, shh," Tony hushes, holding Peter tight. "I've got you."

But Peter knows he doesn't. Not really. He's just as defenseless as Peter is. They're trapped in space with aliens just slightly less villainous than Thanos himself.

He has to bite back a mewling sob as Tony cums moments later, painting Peter's inner walls in warm semen.

He doesn't stay attached to Peter for longer than needed. Peter's boxers are pulled back on and then Tony is pulling Peter into a seated position.

"There, you happy?" Tony snapped, hugging Peter to his chest. Peter trembles against him, burying his face in Tony's track suit.

"Very," Ronan hums. "Take them back to their cages. I might want to play with them a little later."

Peter can't stop crying when they're locked in their small four by four cage. Hes leaning against the bars, knees drawn up and arms holding his legs tightly.

Tony's on the other side, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Stephen and Quill's cage is still empty to the left of them, but to the right, Drax and Mantis sit. Peter can't even look at them.

Can't look at Tony.

He tucks his face into his knees and lets the sobs wrack his body, shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #starker #ironman #spiderman #my writing #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21 #nff

45 notes · View notes

purplellamanator · 3 years ago

Text

Sorry for the delay! This is the first part of my contribution for @shinranweek The above link is to read the story on AO3 or if you prefer to read off of fanfic, just click here! Of course since this is a tumblr event, the chapter will be posted below the cut. I originally wanted this posted for day 1 for first meetings but unfortunately life got in the way. Just a little insight though, this is heavily inspired by movie 20 The Darkest Nightmare. This is not completed though and I'll post the next part later. Sorry if it seems rushed and thanks to @shinranweek for hosting the event! Loved all the shinran content this week!

Amnesia Part I

Her head. . . . It was pounding so hard she thought it'd implode in on itself.

She clutched at the source with one hand and continued walking forward blindly. Everything she did was blindly. Where she was going, where she came from, why her head hurt. . . who she was; it was all lost to her. And she kept moving forward.

Where was she anyways? Glancing around cautiously, her hand still pressed to her head and now as a slight shield from the blistering sun, she tried to discern her surroundings. It was hard though. Her head was pounding and she could barely think. There was so much noise going on around her to add to that and- she was going to pass out.

Eyes landing on a bench, the woman stumbled hurriedly to the wooden chair before collapsing on it. She felt slightly better now that she was off her feet but not by much. It did allow her to actually see through the fog that was clouding her already injured mind and she lost the need to hold herself together.

Laughing and talking; there was a lot of that. There were families milling about, smiling and chattering excitedly. Obviously she was in a family park of sorts . . . but what had brought her here? Was she here with her family? If so, where were they?

Eyes moving around slowly before seeing a massive ferris wheel in the distance, she felt a semblance of knowledge itch at the corners of her mind. Something was familiar. . Something was familiar about that wheel. .

Had that been why-?

She jerked suddenly when she realized she wasn't sitting alone anymore. Looking beside her, it was a man, not that old at all and maybe in his younger twenties. The surprise wasn't what made her jump though. He was- had he been smelling her?

Even after she jumped away and stared at him as if he lost his mind, the man continued to sniff at her as if he were some sort of dog.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Um . . . " She wanted to cringe at how awkward the one sound had been. What do you say when one human being sniffs . . another. . ?

And if possible, the man leaned back against the bench completely nonchalant. As if he hadn't just been smelling her . . .

"Gasoline."

His voice had come so abruptly and her eyes blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Gasoline," the man repeated, a satisfied look in his blue eyes. "You smell very strongly of it."

Did she really? The woman raised her arm to her face and sniffed, brows furrowing when she discovered that he was right. The odd stranger was correct and she did smell very strongly of gasoline.

"Are you okay?" He asks when she was still trying to figure why she would smelled like she took a bath in a gas station.

Her eyes flit to his. "I- I think so."

The stranger's brows lifted curiously. She didn't blame him for looking so confused. How could she not know if she were alright? He didn't question her response though and instead said, "You don't look okay. You look and smell like you've been in an explosion." She was sure that was meant to sound like a joke but the possibility that that very well could be true reflected in his gaze; a hint of seriousness.

But for the first time, and only because this stranger pointed it out to her, she was actually taking in her appearance. Clothes disheveled and dirtied, hair tangled and a welt on her head; safe to say she looked and felt like she'd been through an explosion or two.

"Forgive me for cornering you like this but you appeared distressed," he apologized but somehow he didn't sound very sorry at all. "I just saw you stumbling around in those heels and I thought you'd pass out until you collapsed on this bench. Were you coming from work?"

"Work?" The woman mumbled to herself and again took notice of the gray pencil skirt and the white button-up blouse she wore. Where did she work? Did she even work? She could feel the headache coming back again. Or maybe it had never gone away and she had been able to forget about it momentarily. "I don't know," she finally said in a slow realization and his eyes widened even more.

"Do you know your name?"

Do you know your name?

The voice that resounded after his wasn't hers and she heard it only in her mind. A memory- but from what she didn't know. She had been asked that before but she couldn't remember when or why. For some reason, it made her head throb from trying to remember. "My name. . . ?" She was staring hard at the concrete before her on the ground as she continuously ran that question through her head.

"Can you remember?"

She could hear him right beside her- practically feel him leaning towards her when she didn't respond right away. But for some reason it felt like he was muffled and suddenly the man was miles away and she was stuck in her head. "What's my name. .?" So many thoughts rushed at her in that moment and she raised a hand to her welt to try to soothe the pain radiating from it. But it wasn't soothing it; it wasn't making it better and soon both hands were clutching her head as she attempted to recall something that should've been so simple. "My name?" she repeated again and now her breaths were coming out panicked.

Why couldn't she remember her name? It was hers and she couldn't say it?

"Hey!" She could barely feel a firm hand splay across her back as if to comfort her. "Breathe. I'll call an ambulance and we'll-"

"No!" She jerked away from him roughly and attempted to come to a stand. Her legs wobbled and she could barely make a decision between holding her head together or balancing on her own two feet. Something about his statement had her body reacting automatically though and she just knew she couldn't go to a hospital. Why? She didn't understand that yet but her instincts were telling her no and as of now, her instincts were all she had.

The man rose too and moved slowly towards her as if approaching a scared animal. "We'll get you help. We'll find where you came from," he tried again and went to help her stand.

Where I came from. . to take me back. . . ? Back to-

Nails digging into her head as the pain became intense, she stumbled away each time he moved closer. "No," she shook her head and it became apparent to her that tears were streaming down her cheeks from the pain. "I- I can't-!"

Couldn't what? Go to the hospital? Go back to some unknown place that her body was rejecting? It was all too much.

And suddenly startling them both and everybody in the vicinity, she began screaming from the pain as something tried to force its way to the forefront of her mind. It couldn't though and it was just so much pain and she couldn't stop yelling and before she knew it she was falling and falling.

Heavy lids blinking open a few times to adjust to the brightness, she felt weird. Her head was sore but that was a given. But she didn't feel herself as if she were a mind in someone else's body. That's what she really was in that moment considering she couldn't recall something so simple as her own name.

Her mouth felt dry and her eyes tight as she took in her surroundings. She was in a bed- a hospital room and hooked up to some IV that was probably full of saline. Something else she became apparent to was the fact she was all alone. No one else was in the room with her.

So why was the first thought to strike her was to sneak out that far window? It was like an unconscious reaction that she shouldn't be there in that room; that she had somewhere else she needed to be and that she knew deep down she was never to be in a hospital.

But why?

Thankfully, the woman didn't get the chance to act out her idea because in the next second the door was creaking open slowly and a head was peeking in. It was the stranger- the man from before. And when he saw that she was awake and sitting up in her bed, a grin cracked across his face.

"I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Honestly, she felt terrible. "Better," she said instead. At least she could actually remember what happened before she landed herself here.

"Remember anything?"

She gave him a curious glance. "I remember my head hurting and passing out while we were talking." That was it and he understood fully what she meant. She still couldn't remember her name or anything else before they met.

He must've saw the way her eyes slowly slid around the room uneasily. "I took you to a friend. We're not in a hospital."

Those words really did bring a certain amount of relief for her. Though she still had this mild feeling of wanting to jump out the window, it felt like a weight had lifted off her.

Stepping further into the room, he took the seat beside her bed and she wondered if he had really been here the entire time waiting for her to wake up. "We'll figure it out soon enough. A detective is waiting to speak with you when you're ready."

Detective? Her insides clenched and that again was another red flag. She didn't want to speak with a detective. Swallowing away her body's natural panic, she attempted to pay it off. "Y-you called the police?" She wasn't fooling this man though and she briefly wondered how he could read her emotions so easily.

"Let's just say they're my friends as well," he gave a small but relaxed grin.

Other than for the heaviness of her head, she really felt better now. If he was telling the truth then he had saved her from having to worry about any legal consequences or actions. "Who are you?" He hadn't told her after all. He had been too busy . . smelling her and asking for her name. But he had helped her as well it would seem. Such an unusual person. . .

His blue eyes widened as if he just realized he never told her that. It seemed unlike him but his cheeks actually tinted a slight pink. "I can't believe I didn't even tell you my name," he scratched the back of his brown hair awkwardly and she could hear the unspoken apology in his tone. "I'm Kudou Shinichi." He said it so proudly and matter of fact that the woman was taking back her earlier accusation. He wasn't awkward because he had forgot to mention his name. He was just used to people already knowing it and since she didn't she hoped that didn't take him down a notch. After all, she couldn't even recall her own so why would she remember his?

Kudou Shinichi.

But then again, maybe she did. There was some sort of recognition that came with the name.

Again, that awakened a voice within her but this time she didn't push the fact. Last time she had given herself a migraine and she thought her brain would explode.

"Thank you then, Kudou-san," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused you."

"Not at all," he waved her off. "I'm a de-."

A firm knock resounded around the room before the door creaked open slightly again. Only this time it was someone the woman did not recognize. Based off their clothes though, she was able to determine it was one of her nurses.

She was proven correct when the woman clad in her scrubs turned to another and said, "She's awake but the doctor doesn't want you questioning her long. We're still examining the severity of her brain damage and she doesn't need any stress." And then the door was held open farther so a couple could enter; one man and one woman.

She determined these were the detectives Kudou-san had warned her about. Instantly, she was on guard but she couldn't tell what was to blame. Her body seemed to do it unconsciously and she knew she couldn't speak freely with them. Why would it matter though? She couldn't remember anything not to speak freely with them. And Kudou-san had also said that they were there as his 'friends'.

As they stepped closer and she tensed even more, Kudou-san stood up in what seemed respect to greet the other two. Soon he was moving aside granting them full access to her bedside and she felt her chest cinch up nervously.

Her gaze instantly appraised the woman. She held a certain air of authority that demanded it. She seemed to be in her thirties maybe, the injured girl couldn't tell. But through her stern features she seemed kind enough so far. The man appeared much more at ease than her. She didn't want to mistake it for timidness but she could tell who was the boss in this partnership. Or better yet, who bad cop good cop was.

The woman was the first one to address her proving her theory even more. "I'm Detective Sato and this is my partner Detective Takagi." She paused to give her a chance to speak but all she could do was nod her head respectfully. It wasn't like she could respond with her own name.

"Kudou-kun suspects you've been in an accident of some kind. Not only would we like to find and hold whoever is accountable, our goal is also to identify whom you are."

"I don't think I'll be much help," she admitted apologetically. "I don't remember anything before meeting this stranger." Her eyes flit to the brown haired man that stood to the side.

The woman nodded her head as if she already knew this. "After what Kudou-kun described earlier today and what the doctor explained, I don't expect you to remember anything. So I'll ask you a few basic questions and if you can't answer them, that's okay."

She wasn't too sure that was a good idea. After the pain from last time. . .

The two detectives must've noticed the uneasiness on her features and Detective Takagi actually spoke up. "We don't want to further your condition. Don't push yourself."

Detective Sato nodded before clearing her throat. "It is to my understanding that you don't remember your name so I won't bother asking you about that. Instead, I'd like to know the first thing you do remember."

She swallowed uneasily as she watched the detectives before her. The woman couldn't really understand why but their presence bothered her a great deal. To forget about that, she tried focusing on the question. The very first thing she could remember . . .

"I-I was in an alleyway," she revealed. "My head hurt badly and I didn't know what was going. I could barely stand."

"Can you recall where this alleyway was?"

She shook her head slowly. "I hadn't stuck around for long." Her tone seemed curious about her actions; or maybe perturbed as to why she hadn't. It was something deep down inside of her that told her she had to keep moving.

"Why did you go to that park specifically? Why not the police?"

The ferris wheel.

The answer surfaced swiftly and assuredly through her thoughts. She didn't know why she went there just for the ferris wheel but the fact she knew even that much was something. Yet. . she didn't tell them.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It felt safer and just calm. I wasn't thinking to go to the police." Of course she left out that she couldn't go to a police department. But she could just use the excuse of confusion until she knew what was going on with her. To be fair, she really was confused.

Detective Sato nodded before pulling a card from her pocket. "I didn't expect you to know much and you are on bed rest so I'll end this here." Handing the card to her, the injured girl looked at it curiously. "That's my number. If you remember anything about yourself or the accident, call me."

She nodded again and her cheeks tinted a slight pink. That's all she's done for the past few hours. How embarrassing it was that she couldn't even think to hold a conversation. "T-thank you," she choked out but it sounded completely forced and her grin appeared as a grimace. And either they didn't notice or they just didn't feel like making her even more uncomfortable because the detectives bowed their heads respectfully before exiting.

Not giving her a chance to relax, the door opened again and now what she assumed was her doctor entered. She watched the man even more uneasily. For some reason the doctor bothered her more than the detectives. The man didn't seem too bad. A normal middle aged man dressed in his medical coat and carrying a clip board; there was nothing particularly daunting about him but something . . frightened her.

She started sweating. Her heart beating furiously could be heard on the monitor and she felt her cheeks enflame even more.

"Looks like someone's afraid of the doctor's office," he joked with a warm smile and a wink. "I'm Doctor Araide. I've been looking after you since Kudou-san brought you in."

That didn't put her at ease at all and she swallowed through her dry throat. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, the beeps from the monitor slowly went back to normal. She was thankful the doctor hadn't made too much of a big deal over it but Kudou-san was actually looking at her with a calculating frown. All she could do was try to convince her brain that it was alright. They weren't really in a hospital and that she needed to calm down.

"Well," he went to sit on the chair beside her and she tensed up some more. He didn't point it out this time thankfully and continued with," I have some bad news and some good news."

"What's the bad?" she took the initiative to ask. She'd rather get that out of the way first.

Doctor Araide sighed before shaking his head. "We ran prints and DNA through our systems and through the police department's records as well to see if we could pin you with a name. You're not in any of the systems and no one has reported a missing persons case." Seeing the disheartened look on his features he said, "Don't worry. That could mean many things. You just might not be around from this part of Japan and thankfully you don't have a record to warrant the police's attention."

She nodded slowly, trying to focus on the positive side. It was hard though when she was so confused. She literally had nothing. Not even memories.

"Now for the slightly better news. . . " And for this he actually looked at his clipboard and flipped back a few pages. "I'd still like to do a few more brain scans just to make sure your condition hasn't worsened but it appears to be psychogenic amnesia."

"P-psychogenic. . . ?"

"Retrograde amnesia," he corrected for her in simpler terms. "It's a form of memory loss that can follow a physically or emotionally traumatic event. Luckily, I believe yours isn't too severe."

"So. . . I won't keep passing out?" she asked hopefully from her bed. It hadn't been a very nice feeling from what she could remember and waking up hadn't been any easier either.

Doctor Araide sighed as if he didn't want to make her any promises. He probably couldn't and instead said, "I think that was your body reacting to a memory that . . . psychologically," he finally settled on that word, "you wanted to avoid."

"Basically. . . I don't want to remember." The injured woman nodded but could feeling the beginnings of a headache; only this time it was different. Instead of just straight and abrupt pain this one seemed to stem from stress and disappointment. What had happened to her so bad in her life that she didn't want to remember any of it?

"Not necessarily," the doctor said anxiously. He must've saw what her own statement meant for her. "It was only a theory. What's more important is there was no physical damage to the brain. Cases like these- I don't want to give false hope, but typically my patients that have experienced something similar, all regained some form of memory to their life before their accident."

Though he basically told her not to get too excited, her heart grew brighter. Maybe she wouldn't be a nobody forever and like he said, at least there was no serious damage. "Is there anything I can do that will hasten the process?" The woman didn't want to lose her calm façade in front of the doctor but it was hard to hide it in her voice.

And like a doctor would, he detected it easily. "You're still on bed rest," he warned. "Besides the amnesia, you suffered some major bruising to your ribs and abrasions to your face."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't even noticed. Had she been walking around with bruised ribs all this time? It was hard to believe but maybe whatever accident she had been in numbed her.

"I-" She cut herself off nervously. She didn't want to stay here. Doctors were meant to help people; she knew that deep down. But a certain fear deep inside of her chest- she couldn't deal with that here and surrounded by it. "I don't want to stay here."

And just like that, both the doctor's and Kudou-san's eyes were flitting towards her incredulously.

"I don't think you understand the severity of your condition," Doctor Araide started. "Your wounds are ones fitting of a car accident. You are in no state to be living on your own. And legally, I cannot let you leave on your own."

She wasn't legally a patient here. She was sure of it from Kudou-san's words and she wasn't about to stay here longer than she had to. She didn't want to be here and as far as she was concerned, she didn't have to be. She tried to be nice and let them have their questioning and their tests. Now she wanted to leave. She was fine just on her own until that stranger started smelling her. She wished she jumped out that window when she had the chance.

"Any more stress could damage your chances of gaining anything from your past."

That had her pausing her retort, biting her lip in contemplation. She didn't want to stay here. This wasn't comfortable for her. In fact, it frightened her quite a bit and what was even worse- she didn't know why.

Seeing that she wasn't too fond of this place but also realizing she understood her condition, the stranger from before spoke up again only this time addressing the doctor. "She can stay with me."

The doctor was staring at her now, a frown on his face before turning that disapproving stare on Kudou-san. "It was already wrong of me not to send this woman to a hospital let alone to not call the police. How can you ask me to let her leave?"

"She'll stay at my house. I have more than enough room and I'll watch over her," he replied easily while giving her wary sideways glances. It looked like he was worried she was going to just jump and leave herself without listening to what they had to say.

It was tempting.

"I'll let you leave tomorrow morning if you stay the night," was the doctor's final offer. Either that or he would more than likely inform the law enforcement. She didn't want to risk getting any of them in trouble for hiding this for her.

Lips pursed uncomfortably, she nodded her head once. "And then I can leave?"

"Like I said earlier, I want to run a few more brain scans and make sure there's no lasting damage through the night. After that, I am letting you leave with Kudou-san to be in his care." Doctor Araide put extra emphasis so she knew she would not be leaving alone.

True to his word though, the next morning she and Kudou-san were filling out documents. The entire time Doctor Araide was standing over her- prattling her to stay. After the restless night she had however, that wouldn't be happening. It was like she was about to crawl out of her skin. She didn't feel safe.

"Ma'am," the doctor turned to face her. "I really do not recommend this." It was a last ditch effort really. The hours long process was finally over and Kudou-san was pulling his car around as she waited.

"I know. Thank you for all you've done," she bowed. If it hadn't been for the fact that this was his practice and they had in fact taken her to a hospital, she knew this wouldn't have gone done as smoothly as it did.

Doctor Araide sighed disappointedly. "Please come back if you experience any pain or illness. You have a head injury and that could make appearances as nausea, soreness- anything." And he too was handing her a card and she couldn't believe she was receiving a second one. "This is my work number. It's always on and do not hesitate to call. Kudou-kun has my number as well."

After a few more departing words on the doctor's part on how she needed to be careful, she was waiting in the passenger seat as Kudou-san talked privately with him. She didn't pay it any mind and figured the man had finally given up on trying to convince her to stay there. Instead, he must be giving Kudou-san explicit instructions as he had done prior with her.

She jumped when the door opened and he slid into the driver's seat. Not realizing he was done talking, the girl noticed the doctor was long gone and not even standing on the porch any longer.

"So," he began as he buckled his seatbelt. "Is there anything you'd like me to call you?"

His question actually threw her. She just assumed she'd be left a no-name until she either remembered or those two detectives identified her- whichever came first. The woman thought about it though before shaking her head. Thinking about it gave her a headache and she honestly didn't know what she'd like to be called. Her real name definitely but at the moment that wasn't a possibility. Then to make it even harder, she knew nothing about herself to conjure up some nickname.

Kudou-san waved her off. "We'll figure something out," he said reassuringly. "Let's get you settled in first."

"Where are we?" she piqued curiously. Somehow her brain had retained the information that she was indeed Japanese and still in Japan. Why it didn't know anything else she'd never figure out.

"I live in Beika."

All she could do was nod again. Nothing seemed familiar about the area or name. A little bit of her hope diminished with that but she wouldn't get too discouraged yet. The doctor had hinted that this loss was more than likely temporarily until her mind could come to grips with what happened.

For some reason, when she was informed that she'd be staying with this Kudou Shinichi, she had pictured an apartment. Maybe a two bedroom flat in the city. What their car pulled up to however, she was practically pressed to the window in amazement.

It was a mansion- and no, she was not exaggerating. The house was huge and gated in and everything. Again she had to ask, "Who are you?" Not just anybody could afford a place like this. He had to be somebody important.

He looked at her surprised as he walked up to the gate and pulled it open. It was already unlocked apparently. "I already told you." When he saw she was still looking up in awe at the place that would be her home for at least the next few days, he sighed. "My mother is an actress and my father is an author. They left me the place to live in the States."

Glancing at him, she had a brief moment to wonder if that's why she recognized his name. The fact he had famous parents was more than explanation enough. She was curious to just who his parents were now but he seemed uncomfortable on the topic so she respectfully didn't push it. Instead she said, "Is it just you here?" She was curious. He looked to be in his early twenties and he wasn't bad looking at all. Maybe he had a wife or girlfriend.

"Well now there's you," he pointed out.

Blinking, she was a little flabbergasted that he owned this mansion all to himself. "You live here alone?" Still staring at the hard iron gates blocking the entry way, she felt a sort of cold sensation overcome her. How could someone live in such a big building all by themselves? She knew already that she wouldn't want to and she didn't even know who she was.

Kudou-san took a moment to pause and look at her as if she needed to pay attention. "No. Now, you live here too."

She actually took a moment to glare at his retreating back. The woman wasn't able to tell he was joking until he turned and gave her a small smirk. It was hard to stay irritated when someone smiled at you like that. And the fact he kept this entire thing a secret also helped but she didn't really want to bring that up anymore. Instead, she wanted to focus on getting to know the new place she'd be staying at for however long he chose to deal with her.

After he shut the gate behind them and resumed strolling down the pathway, her gaze raked across the front entrance and the surrounding yard. There was grass and it was green and there was indeed paint on the shutters and front door, but something disturbed her about the scene. She couldn't explain it well but it all just seemed so . . . dead. The front area near the front windows was completely bare where it appeared a garden may of been there quite some time ago. Actually entering the house and into the foyer, the shoe cubby was empty except for one pair. And eyes scanning the barren walls and the way their voices echoed around the spacious house- it was empty.

And there she had the answers to her own curious questions. There was no wife. There was no girlfriend. And based off the shoe rack, there wasn't even any guests. Did he really live here. . ? A hollow feeling ironically filled her heart. She couldn't explain it but she had the weird urge to open the shades and start cleaning. Not that it was messy or anything. It was clean- too clean if possible.

Kudou-san didn't notice the way she scrutinized the building as she followed him up the stairs. If he did, he didn't say anything about it and she walked quietly in his slippers. She assumed they were his considering they were the only pair by the door and he was forced to walk around in his socks. He must not receive many visitors.

"You can stay in here," he said as he opened one of the many doors in the upstairs hallway. "Since I only really had the night to prepare, it's not much. We can go out and buy you some clothes and stuff tomorrow though if you're up to it." It came out unsurely and when she glanced back at him he was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

The woman shook her head with a small grin. "This is fine. Thank you for allowing me to stay." She was still curious as to why he did it. He had no clue who she was and neither did she. She had absolutely no memory of her prior life and some possible health issues. If she was asked, she'd say she was more trouble than it was worth.

"I have a neighbor that is about your size. She lent me some clothes for you to use- if you don't mind them of course," he corrected quickly.

Eyes a bit wide from the fact he actually thought she'd care about having to borrow clothes, she shook her head again. "I am very thankful for her offer and would be more than happy to get out of these." She had been wearing the same clothes she woke up in the first day with Doctor Araide. He had given her a pair of hospital pants and a white t-shirt.

"I have your original clothes in the wash." He had a thumb pointing behind him in the direction she assumed was the laundry room.

All she could do was bob her head in acknowledgement. In a way, she was thankful. Those clothes were her only grasp on where she had come from. On the other hand, they sort of felt detached. She couldn't remember anything about them so they almost held no meaning to her. She just wished she could remember something.

"Is your head hurting?"

She almost wondered why he would be asking her that but then she took notice to the frown she had on her features. The girl hadn't even realized she'd been doing it. Straightening her features, she fixed her lips upward into a small grin. "Not at all."

Kudou-san had been in the process of saying something when the grand doorbell resounded around the massive home. A confused scrunch of his brows showed he wasn't expecting any visitors today. "Excuse me," he nodded his head at her before turning to go. "Go ahead and settle in."

Back facing her, the man wasn't able to see the puzzled and incredulous look she bore. Settle? Settle what. Turn down her sheets to go to bed? She had nothing. There was nothing to settle. Not saying anything though, she decided to just follow him. It might be those two detectives with a lead.

"I told you not on the first day," he came Kudou-san's disapproving tone. He didn't sound angry but there was hint of scolding in his tone and she wondered who was on the receiving end. "She just got back from the doctor's and she needs to rest today." He was glancing down, almost bent over at the waist to talk down. Now she was curious.

"I just wanted to give her these!" came a cheerful voice if she'd ever heard one.

Making her way further down the steps, she noticed the way Kudou-san gripped the door open enough for him to speak. Hoping it wasn't too forward of her, she pried the door open further. It was obvious they were talking about her anyway and she didn't feel like resting much.

Shocked at first, it was enough to catch him off guard and the door opened further. Eyes looking forward, her eyes had to flit down when she realized once again, it was a small child; a little girl. Her hair was dark and cut short, a headband with a bow on her head. All in all, she looked adorable and the woman felt a wide smile tug at her features.

Practically shoving the man out of the way- or even forgetting he was there, she came to a kneeling position. "What did you want to give me?" she asked softly at the child's wide eyes. She wasn't sure but she hoped her sudden appearance hadn't frightened the girl. She really was tiny and she had to wonder how old she was. Maybe seven, if she had to guess?

The small girl's cheeks turned a flustered pink as she hid her hands behind her, an embarrassed look as she glanced at her feet. "I can come back tomorrow. Shinichi-oniisan says you need to rest."

Unlike with Kudou-san, she was being shy. It was no surprise considering she had no clue who she was.

The woman made to appear as if she were thinking. "Well, we can tell Shinichi-oniisan that the sun's still up," she replied with a sideways glance in his direction and she almost laughed. That got the little girl looking up at her again she felt her heart warm as a small giggle escaped her.

"What's your name?"

Now a bit more at ease she excitedly said, "Yoshida Ayumi!"

"That's really pretty," she complimented and if possible, the pink on the small child's cheeks got pinker.

"My parents named me after my grandmother. It means to step or. . to walk your. . " She kept stuttering and cutting herself off as she thought really hard to remember.

The woman wasn't really sure where the burst of knowledge came from but she paused the struggling verbal thoughts of the girl. "To walk your own way," she corrected.

Ayumi gasped happily. "Yes! That's it!" She giggled herself when the girl bobbed her head excitedly.

"Here you go, Onee-chan!"

The woman had to blink at the sudden appearance of flowers in her face. When she realized this must've been what the girl was hiding behind her back, she smiled before grabbing the stem from the child's hand. They were orchids and they were almost a violet color. Where had she pulled this from?

Eyes moving back to Ayumi-chan's, she smiled wider. "Thank you. It's really pretty."

Ayumi-chan pointed at the woman's face. She had to blink again from the sudden closeness. "Just like your eyes!"

Her eyes? The woman hadn't really paid that any mind. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't even looked in a mirror yet. Surprisingly she hadn't thought to do so. Most of her time had spent in a doctor's office. It would be like staring at a stranger anyway.

"My eyes?" She still repeated as she stared into space. How could she not know the color of her own two eyes? She felt her head start to ache.

Ayumi-chan nodded surely. "Say. . . what's your name?" It must've just hit her that she wasn't aware who she was talking to. Truthfully, the woman had forgot herself too. So used to being a noname for the past two days, she didn't think to introduce herself.

"Um. . . "

Kudou-san saw her unease and appeared ready to turn this conversation around. Ayumi was way ahead of him however.

"I'll bet your name is Ran- like the orchid!" she chirped excitedly as she pointed at the flower that she still held in her hand.

Ran? Was that her name? There was nothing there; nothing familiar about the title. But as she twisted the violet orchid in her grasp, and turned the name over and over in her thoughts, she felt a slow smile return to her face. It did have a pretty ring to it.

Kudou-san looked fully prepared to scold her. He didn't want the woman to have another meltdown from trying to force a memory. "Ayumi-chan-!"

But she interrupted him. "How did you know?"

And the man had to take a second to wonder if she really remembered and that was indeed her name. But based off the humorous twist to her lips, he could tell it was mostly to amuse the small girl. If it really was her name, she didn't know but she didn't appear to be about to argue it.

"I knew it," Ayumi-chan gasped happily. "It's because of your pretty eyes!"

"Ayumi!"

All three heads shot up to glance just before the Kudou manor gates. There were two boys that appeared to be the same age as the small girl and she figured they must be classmates.

"Oh! That's Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun. I'm supposed to be working on school work with them." With that she practically skipped down the front entrance steps towards the two boys. "Bye Shinichi-onii-san! Bye Ran-nee-chan!"

Little girl long gone and now back Kudou-san glanced at her. "That was nice of you."

The woman was still sitting on the couch, violet orchid in her hand as she twirled the stem. "It's not like I had a name to begin with," she shrugged. She couldn't hide the warm feeling she felt though. For once, that she could remember, someone had given meaning to something in her life. Even if it was because of chance that her eyes happened to be the same color of that particular orchid. She had a name with a meaning. She had a meaning.

Her eyes slid over to Kudou-san whom hovered in the doorway. His own gaze shot to the floor and she couldn't really tell but it seemed like his cheeks gained a tint of color. Had he been watching her?

He cleared his throat. "I could get a small vase for that," he suggested looking up at her finally. "Did you want one, Ra-?"

He cut himself off abruptly and this time she was positive he turned red.

She wasn't at all offended by his forwardness. In fact, she felt better knowing that he now had a name for her. She wasn't nameless. He probably felt uncomfortable or rude calling her some child's nickname. "I have something else in mind . . and," glancing briefly at the flower again and back to him, a small grin twisted her lips. "You can call me Ran."

#@shinranweek #shinranweek21 #day 7 #creator's choice #fanfic #shinran #dcmk fanfic #dcmk #fanfiction #this is ridiculously long and im sorry

34 notes · View notes

storyofmychoices · 3 years ago

Text

Just Have Faith

[Levi Schuler x Laura Day Masterlist]

Pairing: Levi Schuler x Laura Day [F!MC] Book: Mother of the Year, Post-Chapter 10 Word Count: ~1,300 Rating/Warning: Teen (some language).

Prompts: @choicesmonthlychallenge "I've got this"; @choicesbookclub MOTY Replay ; @wackydrabbles 103 "Why did you say that" (in bold).

Synopsis: Following the events of Chapter 10, when Guy refuses to wake up Lily, Laura returns home frustrated and alone. She starts to believe Guy's declarations of winning custody. Levi is there to remind her not to give up. [Emotional Hurt/Comfort]

Before she knew it, Laura was back in front of the apartment building. The street around had quieted since she left a few hours earlier. Her feet moved instinctively forward, carrying her numbly toward the building; her eyes were filled with unshed tears. She found herself in the elevator, pressing the button for their floor, but when the doors reopened, she didn't have the strength to take those last few steps.

The doors closed again, and the elevator remained in place, waiting for another resident to call for its arrival. Her head fell back against the wall, and time ticked on. Her mind kept replaying all those moments that had torn her down since Guy's arrival. It was too much.

The elevator began to descend, dinging as the doors opened for whoever summoned it. Laura sniffled back her worries and shuffled to the corner, hoping to go unnoticed.

Levi strutted in, tossing his hair behind his shoulder. He pressed the button for their floor on his way in. He stopped short, noticing he wasn't alone. "Laura?"

She looked up, her gaze barely meeting his before falling.

His eyes widened as he took her in. He rested his hands on her arms, moving them slowly, trying to bring her comfort. "What's wrong?"

Her mouth opened to speak, but no words made themselves known. A heavy sigh slipped through her lips as she reached to cradle her face in her hands.

"Let me help you to your apartment," Levi offered when the elevator arrived at its destination once more.

"No—" Laura shook her head, her voice barely audible. "No. I can't—"

"Where's Rocket?" Levi questioned, noting her absence. His voice rose with concern. "Did something happen? Is Lily alright?"

"Guy happened," Laura scoffed. Her fingers ran beneath her eyes, collecting the tears that tried to escape.

Levi waited patiently, giving her time. He slowly stroked her back, letting her know she wasn't alone.

"He put Lily to bed an hour early so that he'd have an excuse as to why I couldn't pick her up. He wouldn't hear reason. He wouldn't wake her up. And just like that, he's stolen another night from me." Her words flowed more quickly now as she let out the pain. "What if this is it? Is every day going to be a fight with him until I lose or give up?"

Levi's eyes closed at the news. His jaw and fists clenched.

The elevator shifted downward again.

"Come with me," he asked gently as the doors opened again. Levi took her hand and guided her forward, leading them outside into the night. "Let's go for a walk."

Laura didn't protest; this was better than facing the empty apartment for the fourth straight night. The crisp autumn air was refreshing. She felt her body relax slightly with the cool breeze. "I hate him."

"I know." He offered her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"First, when we were together, he made me feel like crap. He got me to believe that all of our problems were my fault. Then, after four years of learning to accept myself again and doing my best to support Lily on my own, he shows up, flaunting his wealth and status." Laura shook her head in disgust. "Lily should've been home yesterday. Maybe, I"ll get her back tomorrow, but who knows. If I had kept her an additional 48 hours, I'd be held accountable, but, Guy? Never. He's bullying me with his money, and no one sees it."

"I see it." Levi brushed his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. "And if it would help, I'm more than happy to drive over there and deck him for you. Let's just get you an alibi first."

Laura laughed through her tears. "Don't tempt me." She leaned into him further. "I don't know what to do." The words slipped from her lips in desperation. "Who says tomorrow will be any different?"

He nodded in understanding, wishing more than anything that he could make it better for her.

"I'm—I'm trying my best. But it doesn't feel like it's enough." Her voice cracked at the admission. "Maybe, I'm not enough for her."

"Why did you say that?" Levi turned to face her. "Don't ever let him make you feel like that. What you and Lily have is special. It's more than he can even hope to comprehend."

"It's only just started, and it already feels hopeless—"

"It's never hopeless," Levi interrupted. "Isn't that what you told me the other day? That it wasn't too late for my career? That I should have faith that it will work out?"

"Maybe I was wrong." No longer able to hold them back, silent tears slid down her cheek.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. "Laura, you're her mom. You've been there through the good and the bad. You've put her first in everything. Hell, you moved to a new town with no support just so she could go to a better school and one day achieve her dream. You're an incredible mom and woman. Anyone can see that. As long as you're still standing, as long as you are still fighting, there's no stopping you. Your love will get you through. There's always hope."

Laura wrapped her arms around him, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe her.

"Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it." He stroked her hair softly. "You've got this."

She nodded, taking a step back, trying to compose herself. She let his words settle over her. "I've got this."

"Don't ever let that piece of shit make you doubt yourself. He's not worth it. But you are." He cradled her face in his hands. "What you and Lily have is worth everything. Just have faith in yourself. It's going to be okay."

"Thank you—" she held her hand over his, keeping him there. Laura focused on the warmth of his palm against her cool cheek. A small smile turned at the corner of her lips as his adoring gaze met hers. "Thank you for being everything I've needed since moving here."

"I haven't done anything." His thumb brushed over her cheek. "You did."

"I mean it, Levi. You've been here for everything. You fixed my oven. You baked cookies with Lily and me. You've given me rides. You've babysat Lily (which is no small feat). You helped me get a job. You've been nothing less than a gentleman. You never cease to amaze me." She chewed her lip, watching his smile grow. "I don't know how I got to be so damn lucky."

"I'm the lucky one. You and Rocket have helped me too. In more ways than you know."

"Maybe you can tell me someday." Laura pressed a kiss to his palm.

"Maybe."

"Levi?"

"Yes?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You can kiss me now."

He exhaled a chuckle. "Don't mind if I do."

His lips captured hers immediately, not needing any further invitation. They were soft and warm, encouraging him deeper. The subtle taste of her now-dried tears lingered. He made it his mission to kiss ever drop away. Her tears were a reminder of the pain she had felt. He refused to let any memory of that remain. He peppered her face with the softest kisses. It was then that he realized there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He had never felt like this before. He would move heaven and earth if it would prevent her from shedding another tear. He kissed his way back to her lips, deepening their embrace.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled them apart. "Some of us are trying to walk here." A grumpy, elderly man complained, pushing past them.

Laura cringed, hiding her face in her hands.

"Sorry, bro!" Levi called.

"Youth today," the man huffed, shaking his fist.

Her laughter filled the night air around them.

It was a beautiful melody. Levi smiled to himself, admiring her. It just might be his favorite sound.

Tags in a reblog

#Levi Schuler #Levi Schuler x MC #Levi x MC #MOTY #mother of the year #fan fiction #laura day #levi x laura #playchoices

44 notes · View notes

hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

Text

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.

75 notes · View notes

theprojectava · 6 years ago

Text

The Silent War

Sooo...remember the last post s8 fix-it post I made? I wrote a little something for it (I’ll upload it on ao3, too, but I still have to make an account there).

It’s not beta read and I suck at writing stuff in English since it’s not my mother tongue. Please bear with me. :)

(Fic’s under the cut)

Our room is dark, the blinds are shut tight

And everything is still too much outside

When he left it hurt like hell. It felt like Shiro had finally run out of time. He should've said something sooner.

There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week, after this mission,when this meeting's over, promise, I'll tell him then!

The war had finally, officially ended. But not for them. The universe was in disarray – all the Galra Empire had left in its wake were ruins and ashes of whole worlds burnt to nothing. The war had never stopped and so their duties as Paladins and diplomats of planet Earth continued to tear them apart. Silently. For no one to see. Not even Shiro.

He only felt the sensation of something finally ripping, when it was too late. Keith was gone. By the time they noticed, he was already on the other end of the known universe, fighting off war criminals and rebuilding what was left of civilizations that had taken the brunt of the Empire's wrath over thousands of years. Somebody had to do it, Shiro told himself again and again. And of course it had to be Keith. This was what he was born for. The stars. If he was completely honest with himself he had always known that the younger man was never meant to stay on the ground with both his feet. The moment he had seen him so many years ago, he had known. Keith was meant to fly and reach for the stars or go crashing down with them.

But it still hurt so much. Because in spite of knowing that this day would come, he still wasn't prepared to let him go. He wasn't prepared to lose the man that meant everything to him.

Maybe it had taken him too long to realize what Keith really meant to him. That he couldn't live without him by his side. There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week... The possibility that there would be a tomorrow without Keith by his side seemed so impossible after all they went through. But maybe that's what went wrong in the end. Shiro had taken Keith for granted – a constant in his life that would always be there, no matter what. And now it was too late.

It may be over but not tonight

I may be older but I still cry

I can't stop sleeping in your clothes

You can't stop calling on the phone

Keith never reacted to any of his text messages. Whether it was because he was busy... or for a whole different reason Shiro didn't even want to think of, he didn't know. Silence was all there was between them now. With every unanswered message the hurt sunk deeper into his heart. It festered there and turned into bitterness with every passing month. He felt hollow inside. As Admiral and part of the Terran Delegation there was quite enough work on his hands to keep him busy for most of the day. But every time he'd come back home to a dark apartment and cold sheets he felt like sinking deeper into an all consuming emptiness. He should've given up trying to contact Keith by now. He knew that. In fact he should've stopped thinking about the other man every waking hour. The only problem was... he didn't know how. It was all he'd ever done.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I'm holding on, I know I'm almost there

Storm reach out and tell me that you care

It stung like a knife to the chest when he found out that he seemed to be the only one who hadn't heard of Keith for almost a year. He'd met up with Pidge at one point, visited Lance and Allura on New Altea merely two months ago. He'd even made it to congratulate Hunk on his family's new house in person... The only one who hadn't seen him ever since he left... was Shiro.

Later he'd wonder if that had been the last straw. If that was what finally broke him. When he found out Keith was back on earth for a few days without telling him, he snapped. He packed all his stuff and left his office like a raging storm. He knew he shouldn't corner Keith like that. He knew deep down, that it was wrong. Patience yields focus, remember? But he didn't care for one second. His whole body felt numb, yet at the same time so full of cold anger. He needed answers. Nobody stopped him when he mounted one of the hoverbikes and sped off into the desert. He knew exactly where to find Keith.

When he reached the shack he knew Keith was there, even before he saw the younger man's pale face in the door frame. He was hurting them. Both of them and Shiro knew. But there was no turning back from this conversation now. There was no way this could go on for any longer. Shiro already felt like crumbling to pieces, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. At this point he really believed that he couldn't hurt much more. He'd been through torture and war. He'd survived the pits. He'd survived experimentation and losing his arm. He died and came back... But there was no way he could withstand this.

The moment they started talking Shiro could already tell Keith was closing in on himself, building up walls even he couldn't tear down anymore. The telltale twitching of his hands, the way his shoulders hunched... Keith was unreadable to most people. Anyone else would've thought of him as indifferent to what was going on. Shiro, on the other hand, knew what to look for. He could read Keith like a book. And that's where the fighting began.

Being shut out felt like a slap in the face. It burnt right down to his very core.

“It's better this way”, Keith told him. “I'm sorry...”

They screamed at each other. They cried. Two thrashing animals caught in a trap, neither of them ready to go down. Ultimately, it was all in vain. Keith had made his decision, for reasons unknown. He'd take this secret to the grave if he had to. Shiro would never know what drove the former Red Paladin away from him. But his choice was final.

Tears burnt in his eyes, when he turned to leave. He never wanted to do this... But the words bubbled up unbidden, nonetheless.

“Fine... If that's what you want. I won't stop you”, he looked back at Keith and saw the exact moment the words registered and hit home. “But don't expect me to be there when you decide to come back one day.”

That day he had hurt Keith in a way, he'd never forgive himself for. There was no going back from this. The damage had been done. He left without looking back, not expecting Keith to reach out and keep him from leaving. He never did, anyway.

I'm finally sober, I see the light

The worst is over, nobody died

I'm still trying to let you go

Oh baby, please, leave me alone

A brand new war began. One that Shiro wasn't sure he'd survive – a silent war. No one else could see it, but they could feel it. There was tension wherever Shiro went, hanging in the air around him like thick rain clouds. None of his friends dared saying anything – they all knew. They had to know. Because Keith never showed up to any of their anniversaries on New Altea, again. It was a silent war and this... this was Keith's way of opening fire. Shiro embraced it. Swallowed it. And then cried it out into the darkness of his empty bedroom, when no one else would hear.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I know you wanna say you're sorry

But I don't wanna hear that story

Days bled into weeks, weeks bled into months. His heartache wouldn't fade. Shiro's chest had become an open wound refusing to heal. When was the last time he had laughed? He didn't know. All he did these days was work himself into the ground, working overtime for hours on end until he was either too tired to think or fell asleep in his office. That was until he fainted during a meeting. There's only so much sleep deprivation a human-Galra-hybrid clone body can endure.

When he came to himself again there was a man hovering over him. He remembered him from the Atlas. One of the bridge staff. What was his name again? Carl? Curtis? Curtis.

“Are you alright, Sir?”, he asked.

It's weird... how things change so fast.

Turned out Curtis was what Shiro needed. For the moment. Talking to him was easy... kissing him was easier. Easy was good for now.

They moved in together after dating for a few months. Shiro proposed after another two or three. Of course Curtis said yes. Everything was easy with him. So why did Shiro feel like he was drowning? Sending the invitations to their wedding earned him a few rounds of interrogation from his friends, especially Allura and Pidge. They'd picked up on what had occurred between him and Keith – mainly because Keith had quite regular meetings with Allura and Lance on New Altea, since he became a senior member of the Blades... At least that's what Shiro heard. Both of them knew how much Shiro was hurting, but all they could do was give him sympathetic glances. They knew why Keith did what he did. That maybe protecting his own poor heart from potential hurt was what led to them silently tearing each other apart. It hurt to watch.

Of course they sent an invitation to Daibazaal, too. Since none of them knew Keith's current location, they'd chosen to send it to Krolia instead, knowing Keith would get it, sooner or later. That was Shiro's counterblow in this cold war between them.

Always thought you'd be the one

Who always needed me

My home, you'd be my home

After the wedding, the silence only grew. As did the emptiness in Shiro's life. His marriage lasted for a whole 2 years. The time it took them to get divorced included. There were no “I told you so”s from his friends – only support and a lot of hugs. Shiro didn't know what was worse. Because he himself had known this relationship was meant to crash and burn the moment he had proposed. Maybe before.

He felt terrible. Throwing his own heart in the line of fire because he couldn't let go of someone who clearly didn't want him was one thing... Pulling Curtis into this and putting his heart on the line as well, was a whole different thing. Has he always been such a terrible human being? Could this be the reason why Keith left? Because he'd seen how Shiro hurts the people around him on purpose? There was no way of knowing now. Keith was long gone... and yet, he was still everything Shiro ever knew.

Suddenly, your memory

In time is like an enemy, so cold

Five years. It had been five years since the last time they saw each other. Back in Keith's shack. Shiro's last words still rang in his ears, loud and clear. It had taken him a year or so, until he realized he'd used the same words Adam had thrown at him, before he'd left for the Kerberos mission. It felt like a lifetime ago. Another thing in a long line of things he regretted voicing or not voicing in front of Keith. It seemed like he never told Keith the most important things. But if he did tell him anything, only the wrong things came out. Things he never wanted anyone to hear. Unfair things.

The universe, as Shiro had known it, was in shambles.

A soft ping was all it took to tilt the universe back into the right direction. It was 3:00 am. An unusual time to get notifications nowadays. Shiro had stepped back from a few positions in the past year, slowly letting others take the reins. It was time for him to go back and teach at the Garrison... Or maybe... Maybe one day he'd see the stars again. He could hear them calling already.

Another ping and he was fully awake. With half lidded eyes a grabbed his phone. The bright orange light was nearly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom. He took one look at the display and nearly dropped the device into his own face. Wha-... Was he dreaming?!

There were two messages glaring back at him, taunting him. This had to be a dream. It had to.

Keith (03:02):

Dear Shiro.... I know I fucked up royally. Fuck, I'm not good at this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's been a while..... But can we maybe talk?

Keith (03:03):

I understand if you don't want to. I'll leave you alone if you don't want to see me. But I... I can't do this any longer.

Shiro's heartbeat was deafening. Blood rushed in his ears. He had to pinch himself to make sure this wasn't another cruel dream.

This was happening. This was really happening. It had been five years. Five years of silence.

His fingers moved before he could even register what was happening and pressed “send”.

Shiro (03:05):

Don't be. We both did a lot of fucking up. We can talk whenever you want.

It took about ten minutes and Shiro was ready to dose off again, when his phone went off. It wasn't a text message this time. But a video call.

“Hey.”

A single word. It only took a single word... His voice was tinny and rougher than he remembered. His hair had gotten longer. Long enough to be braided actually. There was an edge to his face that hadn't been there when Shiro last saw him. But it was Keith. Sweet, beautiful Keith.

“Hey”, Shiro replied, his voice raspy and thick with emotions.

They talked. They actually talked. At 3:00 am. Not about what happened between them, not about the reason why Keith left, not about Shiro's marriage or divorce. But they talked about small things, like Keith's latest mission or that annoying woman from the canteen who didn't get the message Shiro was into men. But who could blame her? Ever since Curtis Shiro had never tried dating again.

When they finally hung up it was with the promise of meeting up when Keith got back to earth next month. It was almost 5:00 am. Neither him nor Keith had said it out loud, but it hung between them, so thick it was almost palpable.

“I miss you.”

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Meeting Keith after all this time was like finally, finally putting the shards of his universe back together. Like finally laying their weapons down and calling off the war they had started on that fateful day in the shack.

It was awkward at first... until it wasn't.

One touch, a simple hand on a shoulder kind of touch, was all it took to open the gates to a flood. There were tears. Lots of tears. Tears of joy and sorrow, of forgiveness and apology. Years worth of silence were shattered by a flood of words. Once they started they couldn't stop. Hugging each other and holding on tight, never wanting to let go ever again.

“I'm so sorry”, whispered Keith in between ugly sobs. “I'm so, so sorry. I thought-... I thought-”

“Shhh”, Shiro tried to calm him, tightening his hold on Keith. But the younger man wasn't having it.

“No-... No, you have to hear this.”

He leaned back a little until he could look into Shiro's eyes. His eyes were red and still full of unshed tears.

“I'm sorry I ran”, Keith tried again. This time his voice was steadier. “I didn't know what to do. I thought... After the war you... You deserved better.”

“Better?”, Shiro frowned. “Better than what?”

“Me.”

At that moment it felt like Shiro's heart would burst out of his chest.

Before he could say anything Keith continued: “I... I thought after all you've been through, you deserved a life far away from war and fights and-... I knew I couldn't give you this.”

Another sob rocked Keith's lean body. He'd bulked up a little over the past few years, but he still felt so small and fragile in Shiro's arms.

“I never wanted to hurt you. But... I was afraid... Of hurting myself.”

There was a moment of silence. But a different kind of silence – a pleasant one. Finally, finally Shiro understood.

“You were trying to protect your heart”, he whispered.

Keith's eyes went wide for a second. But he nodded nonetheless. There was nothing left for him to lose. He'd lived five years without Shiro by his side... He'd been through hell already. All because he couldn't just tell Shiro how he felt.

“Well”, the corners of Shiro's mouth turned up into a soft smile. “there's no need to. Never was.”

Again Keith's eyes went wide, his brows rising almost comically high. Slowly, to give him enough time to pull back if that wasn't what he wanted, Shiro leaned down, until their lips were almost touching.

“I never told you this. I never found the right moment... and then you were gone”, with every word their lips brushed against each other. Keith closed his eyes. “Maybe I can tell you now.”

And with that he closed the distance between them.

Kissing Keith was everything he ever imagined it would be... and still so much more. The soft, warm feeling of his lips, the slow drag of his tongue against Shiro's bottom lip were intoxicating. He was done for. He knew that the moment he had to lean back and take a breath. He already missed the warmth of Keith's lips on his.

“I love you.”

The confession left his lips and he couldn't stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Tears filled the younger man's eyes again.

“I love you, too.”

For the first time in years it felt like there was a silver lining at the horizon.

They could to this. They could make this right. It had taken them five years, but finally, finally the universe seemed whole again.

The war of silence was finally over.

Song: “Recovery” by LP

#sheith #voltron #voltron legendary defender #shiro voltron #keith voltron #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #fix it fic #this is how i cope with the s8 ending #i suck at writing i'm sorry #vld #alternate ending #alternate universe #vld au #shiro loves you baby #i did a thing #gays in space #hell yes

2K notes · View notes