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onecanonlife · 3 years

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Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that's all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There's nothing deeper at work here. There's nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,040)

(first part) (second part) (fourth part)

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Part Three

She knocks twice before opening the door, and he barely has time to look up before she’s there. Slightly hesitant, perhaps, but the look on her face is one of resolve as she steps into the room, and nudges the door closed behind her.

It takes a second to find his voice. He can’t remember if she’s ever visited him here. Surely she has, at one point or another. Anyone is free to come find him whenever they choose. He makes himself available, or at least, as available as he can be. The door is never locked, and he is always here.

“Niki?” he asks. “Is something wrong?” He puts down his pen. He hadn’t actually been using it, had instead been twirling it between his fingers and staring off into space. He finds himself doing that incredibly often, and sometimes, he catches himself wondering if it’s worth getting out of bed at all, if that’s all he’s going to do with his time.

She smiles at him, then, but like so many of the smiles she’s directed towards him lately, it seems strained, thin, and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Not for me,” she says. “But I would like to talk to you for a little while, if that would be okay?”

She’s already reaching for a chair, one of the ones he keeps in here, set up so that he can carry out meetings across this desk. None of them are very comfortable, but before he can offer to find her a better one—there has to be one somewhere in this building—she is sitting, perching on the edge, crossing one leg over the other and resting her forearms on her thigh.

Anxiety is already rising. He doesn’t know why she’d come here, doesn’t know what she’d want to talk about, if nothing is wrong on her end of things. Not with that look on her face. Except, there was the whole thing yesterday, and he was very rude to all of them, so perhaps that’s the subject matter. He gave an apology, but it was rushed, and then he all but ran away. He wouldn’t blame her if she had a piece to say on that, little though he wants to discuss it.

So perhaps he should go ahead and get in on it.

“About yesterday—” he starts, but she’s saying the exact same thing, almost in unison, so he cuts off. But she does too, and for a second, they just stare at each other, neither sure how to proceed.

“Go on,” Niki says, after a moment, and he nods, somewhat tentative.

“Right. I just wanted to say, about yesterday, I really am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lose my temper there. I was just feeling a bit stressed, ended up snapping. But I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything you did.”

Niki draws in a breath. He can see her steeling herself, visibly, and his trepidation grows; what could she possibly have to say to him that would take so much mental preparation?

“I accept your apology,” she says, “but, actually Wilbur, I wanted to apologize to you.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I pushed you yesterday, even when it was pretty obvious you weren’t feeling comfortable talking about it,” she says. “I think—I think we do need to talk about some things, and that’s why I’m here, but I shouldn’t have confronted you like I did. Especially in front of others, since it was a conversation that we had with just each other. So I’m very sorry about that.”

He isn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Some part of him feels a bit mollified, because it is true that he felt uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took. But at the same time, that doesn’t really excuse how he reacted to it. He could have handled it better. Should have handled it better, in fact.

“Oh,” he says, and scrambles for something else. Talking is his thing, is what he’s good at. He can’t just be saying oh to people. He needs a response. Needs to be well-spoken, eloquent, because that’s what is expected of him, and he has to fulfill expectations. “Well, that’s alright, then. You really don’t have anything you need to apologize for.”

She frowns. Why did that make her frown? What did he say?

“Okay,” she says, and that doesn’t help him figure it out at all. “Would you mind if we talked about something, though?”

He doesn’t know what else she would want to talk about. At least, not like this. Not coming to his office, expression serious, body language tense. Not saying this, that nothing is wrong with her—because if she doesn’t have a problem of some kind, he doesn’t know why she would be acting this way. Unless there’s another problem with him. Or she thinks there’s another problem with him. But—no, he’s been doing well, lately. Yesterday’s outburst aside, he’s made all of his recent meetings, he’s finished all the paperwork that urgently needed to be done, and he’s been meticulous about his appearance.

Mostly. His coat still hasn’t made it into the wash. But he’s done everything that he’s had the time and energy for, and he thought that it was all holding up.

“Of course,” he says. “What is it?”

She draws in another breath. That’s the second time, now, that she’s steadied herself in so obvious a fashion.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I’d really, really like it if you’d answer me truthfully,” she says, and he can feel his pulse quickening already. “Wil, are you alright?”

She puts a strange sort of emphasis on the final word. He’s not sure why. For a second, he’s lost, adrift, has no idea at all how to answer, because—because of course he’s alright. He’s fine. Just fine. He’s keeping his head above water, steering clear of the circling sharks, and that’s what’s most important. So why do the words linger in his mouth before he can force them out? Why does it take so much effort?

No. He needs to pull himself together.

“Yes,” he says. “Niki, I’m perfectly well.”

Her face crumples. He jolts, hand jerking forward, his instinct to comfort her, but his desk is in the way.

“Wil,” she says, voice soft. “You’re not sleeping.”

The way she says it, so frankly, so matter-of-fact, as if she knows, takes him aback.

“I—” he starts, but she’s already gone on.

“Your eyes are always bloodshot, and I know I joked about the bags under them, but—they’re really bad. Really dark. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but sometimes, when you walk, you kind of—sway, a little bit. Like you’re too tired to stay upright properly.”

He hasn’t noticed. He hasn’t—that can’t possibly be right, can it? Because it’s true, he’s not getting as much sleep as he would like, but it can’t be that bad. It’s not as if he never sleeps at all. So it can’t be that bad. Can’t be that noticeable. Niki has to be looking too hard, jumping at shadows that aren’t there, because the alternative is worse. Is unthinkable.

Because if what she’s saying is true, who else has seen?

“I sleep,” he refutes, but it sounds weak to his own ears. Meek. And Niki shakes her head.

“Not enough,” she says. “And—” She cuts off. And then, she reaches out for him. He watches as she closes her fingers around his wrist, feeling almost outside of himself. His head is buzzing. “Wil, you’re too skinny. I’m really worried that you’re not eating enough.”

He eats. He does. Maybe not a lot, since food has become increasingly hard to choke down—this morning, for instance, he tried, and almost threw it all back up on the spot. But he does eat. And it’s not like he wouldn’t, if he could. He just sort of—can’t. Not much, at any rate. But it’s not as though he doesn’t eat at all.

“I think you might be reading too much into things, there,” he says, and tries a smile. “I eat, I promise. How could I not, with you around?”

“You’ve been by twice in as many weeks,” Niki states. “And both times, you left in a hurry, before I could give you much of anything at all, because the conversation turned to something you didn’t want to talk about. No, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” she adds, raising a finger at him. He leans back, away from it. “I’m not wrong. That’s why you left. Both times. And I—I really am sorry, Wil, if this isn’t something you want to talk about. If you don’t feel comfortable with it. I don’t want to hurt you, or pressure you, or anything like that. But I’m scared you’re hurting yourself.”

She’s—what.

Now that—that truly is a ludicrous idea. That is—

No. He wouldn’t do something like that. He wouldn’t—by itself, the risk of someone noticing is more than enough to dissuade him, though—he is self-aware enough to realize that if that’s his first reason for—abstaining, then that might not be a good sign. Of. Things. He’ll think about it later.

Or not. Or maybe never. This seems like a good thing to not think about, actually.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of,” Niki says, and he’s left it too long again. Too long without a reply. He keeps doing that, keeps getting lost in his own head. He needs to stay more present, needs to keep his head in the game. It’s just hard, when everything feels so far away, when he’s constantly thinking through a thick fog. “Not unless—not unless you are, but—”

She sounds like she might actually cry, at that, and that is enough to force him to focus.

“I’m not,” he says, and to his relief, his voice comes out firm, steady. “I swear to you, I’m not.”

“Okay,” she says. “That’s good. I’m—I’m really glad. But—you’re overworking yourself. You’re not sleeping or eating enough, and you’re always in here, and that’s—none of it’s good for you. None of it is healthy. And then, your hair—”

Annoyance bubbles up. Just a bit.

“Do we have to be on about that again?” he asks. “We’ve been through this. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know you don’t think it is,” she says. “But I’ve heard about things like this, Wil. It’s not that—it’s not that it looks bad, or anything like that. It’s just that hair doesn’t do that without a reason. Not when you’re twenty-four years old. That’s why I keep bringing it up. You’re stressed, even if you try to deny it.”

“And what if I am?” he asks. “It’s a stressful job. I’m running a nation here. But that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. It certainly doesn’t mean I’m not capable of doing my job.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Niki says. “Who—I know you’re capable. I never said that you weren’t.”

He may have overplayed his hand a bit, with that one. There’s a bit of confusion in her tone now, where there wasn’t before, stacked on top of an increasing amount of worry. He’s not doing very good work of assuaging her concerns. But even still, this conversation is bothering him, now. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep a straight face, and he brings his hands together, folding them on top of his desk. Her hand falls away from his wrist, and—it’s because he’s so tired, that he has to catch himself before he grabs it, moves it back to where it was. He’s not that needy.

“Then I’m not quite sure that I understand the point of this,” he says, and tries his best not to bite out the words. Just because his temper is on a short fuse doesn’t mean that he can take it out on Niki. She’s just trying to help him. “I am stressed, it’s true. But it’s not as if there’s anything to be done about that. And as I’ve been saying, it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

“The point is that you’re working yourself into the ground!” Niki says, her eyes flashing. “It doesn’t matter if you can handle it, it’s about whether you should!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he snaps. “Aren’t I the president? Isn’t this my job?”

“Not if it costs you this much!” she snaps back.

And—she doesn’t mean it like that. He’s almost certain that she doesn’t mean it like that, doesn’t mean it like it came out, doesn’t mean she thinks he shouldn’t be president. The thing is, he would accept it, if that were the case. If his people banded together and decided that someone else would do a better job than him. If they thought he was no longer deserving of the position. He would accept it. He would step down, retire to private citizenship. He just doesn’t know what he would do afterward. Doesn’t know what he would do with himself, if the country he founded decided he was no longer good enough for them.

But of course, he has never been good enough. Not really. He’s hanging onto his pretense by bloody fingertips.

Has Niki realized it?

“It’s not worth it if this is what it does to you,” Niki continues, voice softer. “Nothing is. Nothing matters if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

He doesn’t—that’s not right. It can’t be right, because the country is more important. L’Manberg is more important, has been since the day they declared their independence, staked everything on a van and a dream. He started it, and so it is up to him to continue it, because the prosperity of his people must come first. His nation must come first.

What is he, in the face of that?

For a second, Niki goes blurry. He blinks, hard, and she comes back into focus, but his eyes are prickling. Stinging. His chest has gone tight, his breaths coming shorter, and he doesn’t want this. This can’t be happening now. He needs to—to shove it all away, down in a box, never to see the light of day. Only to be opened when he’s alone, in his quarters, safely ensconced where there is no one else to watch him break down. No one else to watch his shame.

He’s not doing this in front of Niki.

And yet, the sensation doesn’t subside, so he stands abruptly, surprising her, he thinks, and he walks to the window, shoving the curtains away and staring out over what he can see of the country from here. It’s not much; the window is not very big, but he can see the walls, the black and yellow ramparts. Standing tall, standing strong. This is why he does this, why he works so hard, why he refuses to show vulnerability. This is why. This is what he is protecting, what he must continue to protect, for as long as he is allowed.

His eyes sting again, the world wavering. There is a sob trapped behind his ribcage, clawing at him, trying to tear him open. He breathes, deeply, and doesn’t let it. Now is not the time, and here is not the place, and he will not lose his composure. He will not. Not over—and what is he reacting to in the first place? Niki’s words? He has no real reason for the tears welling up. He’s just weak. Emotionally. That’s what this is. And that’s why he can’t let it show.

Another deep breath. He pretends it doesn’t shake.

“Wil?” Niki asks. Behind him, now, and he doesn’t turn to look back at her.

“L’Manberg is worth everything,” he says. “You do understand that, right?” His voice doesn’t waver.

“I love L’Manberg,” Niki says. “We all love L’Manberg. But we don’t love it more than we love you.”

He winces, and he’s glad he’s turned away from her, glad she didn’t see.

Perhaps she believes that’s the truth. But it can’t possibly be. He could understand them loving him in connection to loving L’Manberg, this city, this nation, this wonderful place that they’ve built together, that he’s poured his sweat and blood and tears into. He and L’Manberg are irrevocably intertwined, and he could understand loving him, simply by virtue of loving the other. But separately? He hasn’t done anything. L’Manberg is his crowning achievement; besides that, what does he have to offer people? What reason? What virtue?

In a way, he is L’Manberg, and he cannot remove himself from it, no more than a bird can remove its own wings.

“Wil?” Niki says. Her voice has gone sharp. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he says, he lies, and—his voice breaks. Just a little bit. It would probably be unnoticeable, if the circumstances were any different. If Niki weren’t already paying so much attention to him, scrutinizing him, spotlight turned up to its maximum brightness. Like he’s on stage, and she’s in the audience, and he’s fumbled the line and she’s only noticed because she knows how the play is supposed to go.

Metaphors. Spiraling away from him. Just like this conversation.

“Wil,” Niki says again, more insistent. And closer. She’s stood up, stepped toward him. He still doesn’t turn, because the prickling has only gotten worse, and he’s scared to blink, lest that send the tears spilling over. If she looks at his face, she’ll see them. There’s no avoiding that. “Wil, please. Don’t lie to me.”

Ah. She knows.

He’s not sure why that’s the thing that breaks him. Why that’s the thing that pushes it all over into being too much.

The sob escapes.

Only partially; he tamps down on it on instinct, and his fist flies up to his mouth. Habit, that, to muffle his sounds. But that almost makes it worse, because the sob comes out sounding not quite like a sob, but instead more of a strangled whimper, bit off and weak, like the dying call of some small, hapless animal.

He doesn’t let another one out. He presses his fist against his lips, though he doesn’t part them, doesn’t bite down. But the damage has already been done, and then, Niki is there, right by his side, and he doesn’t dare to look directly at her, but he can imagine what expression she’s making. Some variation on the same one she’s had this whole time. Concern, deep and abiding and wholly undeserved, wholly unneeded.

“Hey,” she says. “Please talk to me. What is it? What can I do?”

His throat is too thick, too clogged. He has no hope of evening out his voice.

“You could go,” he manages, hoarse. Blunt, and he hopes she doesn’t mistake it as anger. He’s not angry. Not at her, at least. “I might need a moment?”

He didn’t mean for that to be a question. But Niki just steps closer, shaking her head.

“I’ll do anything other than that,” she says. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. Not if—oh, Wil.”

She has a good angle, now, to see his face fully. So the jig is up, and he knows there’s no hope of getting her to leave now. That’s how Niki is. Too kind. Too caring. And sure enough, she reaches out toward him in the next moment, and his usual reaction would be to flinch away, but instead, he just watches through obscured vision as her hand nears his face, and cups his cheek, tilting his head toward her.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. Part of him wants to jerk away from the contact, and part of him wants to stay there forever. Or for a good, long time, at least. Just because it really is nice to be touched in a way that is not meant to harm him.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “It’s nothing.” But he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, so he blinks, and there go the first tears. Dripping down, out in the open, no disguising them. There are more sobs building up, but these, he forces down, keeps in his chest, out of his throat. Even if it makes his breathing unsteady, makes his chest jump and hitch every few seconds, it’s better than the alternative.

“It’s not nothing,” she says. “If it’s hurting you, then it’s not nothing. Please believe me.”

He can’t. He can’t do that. Not even for her sake.

“Is it what I said?” she asks. “I swear, I’m not angry with you. I just want to help.”

He shudders, and turns his face away from her. Her hand falls from him.

“Is it—is it that?” she asks, and oh, how he wishes she wouldn’t. “Why does that upset you?”

He—he can’t. He can’t answer that. He can’t talk about this. He can’t.

“If you would—if you would rather I go get someone else, I could do that,” Niki says, slowly, and he can tell that it pains her. He might be hurting her feelings, with this. He wishes he could explain that it’s not her in particular that he can’t trust with this. It’s everyone.

For a moment, he entertains taking her up on the offer, if only because she would have to leave to retrieve someone, which would give him time to escape his office and go—where? Where would he go? To his room, to scream into his pillow once again? A bit late for that. And the idea is foolish anyhow; she doesn’t need to leave at all, can just talk to someone on her communicator and stay with him until they arrive, and no, absolutely not. He doesn’t want that. As bad as this is, as shit as he feels right now, he doesn’t want anyone else to see. It’s bad enough that it’s Niki but—what if it were Tubbo, or Tommy? One of the people who looks up to him as an example and not just a friend or brother?

No. Bad enough that it’s Niki, but better her than someone else, and he’s done it again, has taken too long to respond because his brain refuses to think any faster than a slow, plodding pace, a trot rather than a gallop, and—

“Please don’t,” he says, and it comes out both whisper and plea. And then, because he has to try again, because he won’t be satisfied unless he does, he says, “Really, I just need—a moment. It happens sometimes, it’s fine, but if we could maybe pick this up later—”

“I’m not leaving you while you’re crying,” Niki says. “Please get that through your head.”

“But you should,” he says. He fights to get the words out past the lump in his throats, past the pressure that continues to build up. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. And I’m fine, because I can, I’m used to it. So if you’ll just give me a minute, I can—I can compose myself, and we can keep on.” He bites out each word, wary of letting something loose that he doesn’t want to, but that has the downside of airing his frustration again. He’s not trying to snap at her, he really isn’t, but better that than to dissolve into full-on crying. A few tears are manageable. He can get this back under control.

“Wilbur,” Niki says, “why on earth do you think you’re something that I have to deal with?”

He looks at her again, something in her tone compelling him. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright.

And this is not going to be the right answer, not going to be what she’s looking for, but he’s so worn out that he just—

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks.

“Oh,” Niki says. “Oh. No, Wil, no, that’s not right. You’re not—is this why you haven’t told anyone? Because you’re—oh, Prime, Wil. You’re not something I have to ‘deal’ with. You’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want you to be okay.” And before he can even begin to think of how to respond to that, she steps forward, and then her arms are around him, and she’s hugging him.

That’s when his knees decide to buckle.

“Oh, shit,” Niki says, but she guides them both down to the floor, so that they’re kneeling, kneeling and she’s still hugging him, still has her hands splayed on his back. “Okay, you’re okay. Are you with me, Wil?”

He intends to say yes. What comes out instead is a small, “Mhm.” Not even a word. And he’d be angry with himself, except all of a sudden, his chest is heaving, and the tears are coming quicker, and scrunching up his eyes doesn’t help, and it sort of hurts, now, to hold back the sobs that want to wrench out of him, hurts in his ribs. And he’s shaking, and despite all of that, he’s starting to feel cloudy again, distant from himself, and with that realization comes another: at this point, he’s lost control. His body has decided to shut down on him, and he doesn’t really have a say in the matter.

The sobs start coming out. Loud, broken things, like shards of glass twisted and half-melted until there’s no putting the pieces back together the same.

His mind feels detached. Impartial. Numb. So he no longer bothers to try and stop it. Just floats, a bystander within himself, as he has a complete break down on the floor of his office, with Niki holding him.

He’s not sure how long it takes for the tears to stop. He’s not counting. Not taking notice of much of anything, really. His body wears itself out, and he’s left there, slumped against her, like an empty shell.

She’s been talking to him this whole time, a stream of platitudes, comfort words, tumbling after one another, but now, she stops. For a moment, there is silence. He can hear himself breathing, rough and ragged.

“Hey,” Niki says. “Are you still here?”

He’s not sure how to answer that. He doesn’t feel very present, and frankly, he likes it that way, right this second. If he were feeling any more present, he’d be dealing with far more than he thinks he’s equipped for. But he is here physically, and he has enough presence of mind to respond to her, at least, even if it all feels so very far away, and he is so very tired.

He has been this tired all along, he thinks. This was a breaking point. Does it make him feel any better, that this was probably inevitable?

“Yeah,” he murmurs. His head is resting on her shoulder. He keeps it that way. It’s easier if he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“That’s good,” she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Are you actually asking,” he mumbles, “or are you going to make me anyway?”

She sighs. That was the wrong thing to say. It’s harder for him to care.

“I don’t want to make you do anything,” she says. “That’s not why I’m here. If you really, really don’t want to talk about it, then—we don’t have to. But I think you need to. I think you’re hurting, and you’ve kept it to yourself, and I think that’s not a good thing.”

“‘S better than the alternative.”

“Okay,” she says. “What’s the alternative?”

Is he really going to do this? Is he going to tell her? Every instinct he has cries out against it, but the thing about that is that his instincts are rather dull at the moment. Easier to push aside. And his logical reasoning informs him that he’s already cried all over her, so really, he owes her an explanation at this point. Doing so might make everything worse, but if that’s the case, it’s no more than he deserves, for being unable to keep it together.

“Niki,” he says, “I’m a bad president.”

His voice is muffled by the fabric of her shirtsleeve. But he knows she understands him, because she stiffens.

“What makes you say that?” she asks.

“‘M not any good,” he tells her. “I’ve got all this work to do and I can barely do any of it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all. I’ve only been pretending this whole time, to know what I’m doing. I’m a shit leader.”

“You’re not,” Niki says, “but if you really think that, why didn’t you ask for help?”

He shakes his head, still holding his face on her shoulder. He doesn’t want to see her expression. “Can’t,” he says. “‘M supposed to be able to do it. I didn’t want you to know I’m a failure.”

Niki doesn’t respond. For a full three seconds, and he wonders if this is the part where she leaves. Finally. And then, she stops hugging him, and the part of him that is still awake enough to form coherent sentences thinks, yes, this is it, this is what you have sowed. Except then, she doesn’t leave at all, makes no move to get up, and instead grips him by the arms, and moves him backwards, so that she can stare him right in the face.

“Wilbur Soot,” she says, and she sounds more upset than he has ever heard her. “You are not a failure.”

“I am,” he says. Why is he trying so hard to get her to believe it? Maybe he just feels like he’s committed, now, to pulling the rug out. “I am.”

“You’re not,” she insists. “You made this nation. You took a drug van and turned it into a country where everyone is happy and free. Everyone looks up to you. We all love you.”

And there it is. The problem, in a nutshell.

“And what happens when you stop?” he murmurs.

Niki is completely silent, completely still. Staring at him.

“What happens when it turns out I’ve never been good enough?” he continues, voice weak. “What happens when the man you look up to lets you down? What happens when you know that all I am, in the end, is a pathetic shell who can barely get himself out of bed in the morning, much less make any of the moves that would lead to actual prosperity? What happens when you all learn that your president is shit at his job?” His voice strengthens as he goes on, rises to a more normal tone, fueled by his own disgust.

In a way, it’s freeing, finally saying all of this aloud. Whatever the consequences may be.

“What exactly,” Niki says, “have we done to make you think there’s anything you could do that would make us stop caring about you?”

She actually does sound a little bit angry, now. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her nostrils flared. He opens his mouth to respond, because the answer to that should be fairly obvious at this point, but she continues before he can.

“Do you really think we only love you because of—because you’re president? Or because you’ve made a country? We love this country because you made it, not the other way around. Why would you—Wil. Have you been thinking like this the whole time?”

Suddenly, he finds himself unable to respond. Paralyzed. Stricken dumb. Blinking, working his jaw. She shakes her head, tossing her hair, and—are those tears glittering in her eyes? Surely not.

It’s another second before she keeps talking. She was waiting on a response from him, he believes, but it’s one that he is incapable of giving.

“Oh,” she says. “You really do believe that.”

And the way she says it—he wants to cry again, for putting that pain in her voice. That expression on her face. Her hands are still on his shoulders, have not yet been pulled back, but suddenly, his skin is crawling, the contact too much.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he’s not sure exactly what he’s apologizing for. For his numerous inadequacies, maybe. For the fact that he’s not strong enough for this, and never has been. For the way he started this country and so foolishly believed that he would be able to lead it well, that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the paperwork and struck with the desire to lie in bed all day and do absolutely nothing, a desire that’s harder and harder to fight. For the manner in which his body has betrayed him, time and time again, for his hair turning white and his inability to prevent his outbursts and the way that it shut down on him just now, let everything out in the most unbecoming method possible. For the fact that he was weak enough to let it all show, too weak to press on and get through it.

For hurting her, certainly. He never wanted to do that.

But then, to his surprise, she yanks him forward, swift and insistent, into another hug. His mind shouts in alarm, but his body, once again, has a different idea, and he finds himself slumping into her hold again.

“You are worth more than L’Manberg,” she says. “If this place went up in flames tomorrow, I’d be most concerned with making sure you were alive.”

No. No, she can’t just say that, can’t say it and mean it, because if she does—

“Stop,” he rasps.

“No,” she says. “We don’t love you because you made this nation, or because you’re the president. We love you because you’re our friend, and you’re our friend because you’re good and kind and clever and funny, and you’re you. Not because you’re good at making speeches or signing papers or building walls. You’re just you. I promise that’s enough, Wilbur.”

He shudders again. Full-bodied.

“I don’t believe you,” he admits. What’s one more mark against him, at this point? “I can’t.”

“Then let us help you so that you can,” she says. “Don’t shut us out.”

That’s another thing that he can’t answer. His mind is spinning. He doesn’t know what to believe. He wishes this whole thing hadn’t happened in the first place, wishes she hadn’t stepped in here at all. And yet, some part of him feels safe. Safer than he’s felt in a good long while. He’s not so stupid as to think that it’s not because she’s holding him.

“How about we start with this?” she says. Her voice has softened. “How about you take a nap, and then, when you wake up, we get you some food. Something nice and simple, like soup.”

That—is easier to comprehend. Physical needs. Needs that he’s not intentionally neglecting, but that he can’t seem to make himself take care of. He can—he can do that, especially if it makes Niki feel better, and he is tired. Exhausted. His eyes are drooping shut already, though he shouldn’t fall asleep on Niki. He should go—back to his room. To his bed. That’s where he should sleep. Except he’s almost never able to get good sleep, there, and he still feels safe. Right here, right now. Safe, and he can’t remember the last time that happened. Can’t hope to anticipate the next time it will.

“Alright,” he mumbles. Niki isn’t pushing him off yet. Maybe she’ll wait until he’s out.

There’s still a portion of himself screaming not to do this. Screaming that he just keeps digging himself a bigger hole. That with everything he continues to reveal, with every weakness he puts on display, he’s only going to make the inevitable fallout worse. Because there will be fallout, no matter what Niki says. Perhaps she is telling the truth. Perhaps. But she doesn’t speak for everyone else, and he doesn’t want—

But he’s so tired, in the end.

“Don’t let anyone else in?” he says. He’s unsure if the words come out understandable. He’s slipping. He’s letting himself.

“Just sleep, Wil,” she answers, and that’s the last thing he hears.

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familyagrestefanblog · 4 years

Text

Jackady: The importance of the father-son hug scene

One of my favorite Adrien-Gabriel moments to this day is still the ending scene of "Jackady" but I have seen more confusion for it than clarity in the Fandom so here is my analysis on it for why I love it so much. Because as the seasons go by this moment sustaines so much more significance that I simply HAVE to talk about it!

While it isn't the only Adrien-Gabriel scene that does it, I adore this scene because it shows perfectly that in the beginning their little, broken family could have made it out of this tragedy stronger and maybe even better but the reality that Adrien and Gabriel are also Chat Noir and Hawkmoth not only hinders those chances, it actively drives them further apart into destruction

Maybe one day I'll give all my thoughts to the entire scene and just go on a rambling post about it (because I love EVERYTHING about this scene) but for now, let's just focus on the main aspects that really sell it to me.

I give Gabriel alot of shit on my blog for obvious reasons. I refuse to generally give him the same positive and conciderate treatment as Adrien, Marinette and the other kid characters because unlike them HE is an adult, a father and the villain of the show. The adult and villain part I'm not taking too personal because those are "just" the traditional aspects of his character type. But what is incredibly unique about him is the fact that even if he is this evil villain type he still gets to be the realistic type of abusive and (truly) bad father with sympathetic moments like this:

This moment of shock and fear is not something you would normally see in a family cartoon from an evil parental figure the child longs to bond with without setting the parent up for redemption. But as we now know by s3, Gabriel is only getting increasingly worse and more abusive and Adrien is starting to let go of his father to move on without him and defying his will. It's quite clear now that their future will not be anywhere near good, "Chat Blanc" showed us what's to come.

And this is exactly why I love this scene. Because, yes, this family will go up in flames and never truly reconcile ever again (Gabriel went WAY too far for that in the way he abuses/will abuse Adrien) but the show doesn't shy away from showing us the transitional phase in between which really not alot of media dares to. Normally when they stay enemies or their situation doesn't end in an at least somewhat forgiving way this transition is simply mostly skipped to not having to let the bad parent have realistic and sympathetic moments in their downfall into madness/villainy (especially with their victim).

Miraculous does and it's beautifully tragic because you can just... SEE the situation unfold and understand where the eventual fate of the family comes from.

The pure misunderstanding between these two in this scene, the way they just talk RIGHT PAST each other because the other one can not understand the problem cuz they don't know the secret identity of the other one is... brutal!

This moment here could have worked for them. It could have been a genuine step forward in their relationship and saved their family but it got completely CRUSHED by their secret identities as Chat Noir and Hawkmoth.

Let me show you what I mean:

THIS is a moment I AM giving Gabriel genuine credit for, because you can turn it any way you want it won't change the fact that, for his situation, THIS was the right question to ask his son. But at the same time it's just such a... horrible thing to say here oh my GOD.

And that's the ugly, UGLY beauty here.

If Gabriel weren't Hawkmoth (if someone else were Hawkmoth so the situation would still have happened) he would not have reacted to the fucking ring. He would have thought nothing of it and had remained focused on Adrien, because that was his original intention (problematically executed but that's beside the point now).

After Gabriel got himself in life threatening danger because he didn't listen to Adriens concerns, he went to him to hug him as apology. THIS is Gabriels way of apologizing and trying to make up for his faults. He's obviously not good at verbalizing his feelings properly and at normal interpersonal dynamics in general. So what he does is trying to make his feelings known in a... "material/physical" way. This does not only show through Gabriel just buying the best things for Adrien without ever being there for him, it also shows in the way he physically interacts with his loved ones when he genuinely wants to show his love. Because for how seriously antisocial and unreachable as he normally is, he also gets... quite touchy.

The shoulder touch thing Adrien does as well to show his affection for someone, him hugging Adrien both times he got a wake up call and literally everything thats happening between him and Natalie at this point lol.

Him hugging Adrien here is just as much of a big deal as Adriens expressions make it seem to be

But the father-son moment couldn't last because the villain-hero alter egos interfered. Gabriel being Hawkmoth rightfully stopped the moment here, because reacting to even the slightest chance of your own child being the hero you try to destroy is undoubtedly the right way to handle this (even if the way he did it wasn’t ideal, that's not something I would expect from any character in that situation), but nevertheless it still utterly crushed the moment.

Cuz just because it is the right thing for HAWKMOTH to ask his son Adrien who he fears COULD be Chat Noir, doesn't it mean that it is anywhere close to okay for Adrien/Chat Noir to hear this very question in that moment from his father who he thinks as a normal civilian in this.

And Adriens expression once again makes this perfectly clear

(You know the offense just reached an other dimension when the kid, who is already well aware and used to their fathers emotionally painful ways, makes a face like THAT)

Cause here is the thing. We all know by now that Adrien has some serious self esteem issues and that while he tries to over play it (especially as Chat) he just doesn't hold himself in high regards or even likes himself very much. Hence why he goes all out on the acting as Chat Noir and doesn't defend himself much.

But just because he doesn't like himself that much doesn't it mean he still doesn't want that very validation and appreciation from his father. Just like all of us and everyone on earth, Adrien wants to be loved for himself, even if he doesn't/can't do it himself. Thats normal and is something that can deeply damage you when you don't get it from your own parent/s.

So tell me, do you see why Adrien was so CRUSHED when in probably the first time since his mother's disappearance Gabriel gave him the genuine and all present love he wanted for so long, just for Gabriel to cut their moment short and FOCUSE ON THE RING?

The one thing on Adrien that makes him become "someone else" so he can escape from having to be himself for a bit.

And for Adrien it now seems like that in his own fathers eyes this ONE thing Gabriel shouldn't even know could be anything special about if he weren't Hawkmoth, is the ONLY thing worth noticing about his own son so it catches his eyes.

It tells Adrien right to the face that nothing Adrien was and did to make his father happy up to this point measured up with Gabriels expectations. All of Adriens efforts, his patience and his hopes of earning his fathers love and happiness if he only does well enough, literally in vain. It wasn't enough. It's wasn't enough for Gabriel to notice in comparison to the ring apperently.

From Adriens view you can interpret it two ways:

1. Since earlier Gabriel also took a closer look at Chat Noirs ring Adrien now thinks correctly that his father is seeing his new ring as a sign that he could be Chat Noir. This would mean that in Adriens eyes Gabriel would have cut their moment, an action of validation and love Adrien has longed, worked and patiently waited for so LONG, short and basically forgot all about Adrien himself because there is a SLIGHT possibility that Adriens ring means he COULD be Chat Noir. His own father literally choosing his secret identity over his civilian one as Adrien, the son Gabriel had for 14 years, is beyond crushing. And while it seems strange for Adrien to take offense in this because, well, he IS Chat Noir so what the big deal? The big deal here is, again, that as Chat Adrien is literally trying NOT to be himself. He uses the opportunity of being an anonymous hero to escape from having to be Adrien Agreste in every way he can. Gabriel throwing aside the son who is literally standing in front of him and who did his darn best to be there for him in his own time of grieving his mother to basically only focus on Chat Noir (a person Gabriel in the end of the day shouldn't and doesn't know) possibly being his son, is such a fucked up scenario to throw onto Adriens already low self esteem what the actual fuck.

Or 2. That Adrien simply takes his father choosing to focus on his "simple" new ring out of all things as a clear "I see nothing else worth noticing in you, so to keep this conversation up I have to grasp at straws so I guess I'll be taking about your new ring".

No matter how one chooses to interpret the moment, it's equally as much of a "fuck you" either way. I know Gabriel could have said worse here, but honestly, the list isn't that long.

So when after this Adrien reacts like this:

It should really not come by any surprise. Although, no, it is kind of surprising. Surprising that Adrien didn't react alot worse than this. What Gabriel just threw at him is like the verbal equivalent of a loved one reaching out for you with a hand so they can caress your cheek but the moment you lean in they follow it up with a punch to the face.

It shows just how well Adrien has his emotions under control and is able to stay level headed under such great offense that THIS is the level of irrationality and anger he expresses after basically being out right disregarded by his own father (which should be of no surprise either, as Chat Noir Adrien has to put up with a whole lot of disrespect as well and there he for literally 95% of the time has to shrug it off as well).

But no matter how bad Gabriels line here was, it has nothing and I mean NOTHING on the awful way Gabriel then decides to react to Adriens appropriate but still very mild response.

Because THIS is the moment that sets up Gabriels betrayal and downfall as both a person and especially as a father. Up to this point Gabriel was a horrible person as well, no question. The entirety of s1 he already worked as Hawkmoth, manipulating people, putting them in great danger and planning the demise of two teenagers with sadistic glee. But still one has to acknowledge the difference in these two situations.

In one Gabriel is hiding in a secret lair, manipulating people he thinks beneath him to do the dirty work for him and fight two anonymous heros he just wants to get rid of to reach his goal. Gabriel is taking so much pleasure out of terrorizing Paris and it's people because he legitimately doesn't give a single fuck about them or holds any kind of personal connection to them either. He never goes outside and is very antisocial so these people and their city mean nothing to him because they ARE nothing to him. His (self chosen) isolation and lifestyle pretty much disconnected Gabriel from real life and a normal way of expressing and receiving human emotions. So when there are no emotional stakes for him personally, he sees no reason to not satisfy his villainous desires as Hawkmoth.

So as odd as it may seem to say, him terrorizing Paris prior to this is not the point of crossing the line for his character. For that it's simply to impersonal.

No, the point of crossing the line happens here with Adrien. With Gabriels character things will always come back to Adrien at its core. Adrien (not Emilie, Natalie or anyone else) is the person Gabriel temporarily truly gave up being Hawkmoth for and Adrien is the one person Gabriel has his most human moments with. Not even in his bonding moments with Natalie does he show the same deep and true (misguided) love and affection as he gets to with Adrien in those rare moments (its close no doubt but something about Gabenath is not as deep and true as this father-son pair and I can't imagine it ever will).

This marks the point of no return for Gabriel because it's the first time he chose to deliberately abandon Adrien in the crossfire and decides to be the villain towards him instead of staying there to talk things out with him. It's the first time Adrien truly had Hawkmoth as his father. And Hawkmoth is Chat Noirs ememy so Gabriel fell into that role without Adrien knowing why.

And there is a solid reason for that.

One of the best things of this show is that no matter how horrible things get between these two, things are always much more complicated than a simple "evil father doesn't love his good son" situation. Gabriel calls Adrien "the image of perfection" in this very episode, that's sure as hell not hate or dislike in any way. That's love, that's adoration. This man ADORES his son. And this is were the deep rooted problem lies.

Gabriel loves and adores his SON. The ideal and perfectly perfect son Adrien could become when Gabriel is done forming him into it by suffocating any "imperfections" with an iron fist. It's just that these "imperfections" are always the characteristics that make Adrien ADRIEN. Gabriel may truly love his son but I'm not even sure if Gabriel even so much as LIKES Adrien himself.

And this is perfectly showcased by Gabriel turning away from Adrien in this very scene here.

Because even though Gabriel literally disrespected, shut down and belittled his son for the entire episode he still came to see and hug his Adrien afterwards because he loves him. But HIS Adrien, the perfectly perfect Adrien Gabriel wants him to be, wasn't the Adrien he met up with in his sons room. Instead he got an Adrien with a ring on his hand that could be Chat Noirs, making him possibly one of the two enemies he's trying to destroy.

Adding salt to the "wound" Adrien even backtalks him in a way that undoubtedly reminded him of Chat as well since Gabriel pointed out Chats temper in this very episode.

So Gabriel was very directly confronted with the possibility that Adrien could INDEED be Chat Noir and that naturally comes with the implications that Adrien deliberately disobeyed Gabriels orders accepting that ring, sabotaging Gabriel reaching his goal and in general doing everything his father DOESN'T want him to do BY CHOICE.

And here Gabriel made the decision that marks the point of no return, setting up the devastatingly horrible way this man is treating and will treat his son in the future.

Because this is the moment Gabriel SHOULD have chosen Adrien over his mission. The sheer possibility, no scratch that, even the SLIGHTEST TRACE of a possibility of Adrien being Chat Noir should have immediately made Gabriel take action to save and protect him. Because it's not like Chat hasn't been constantly in dangerous, life threatening or even situations that ended up in DEATH. If Gabriel would truly love ADRIEN his quest would have ended right here, stopping the upcoming horror this family will face before it could have really begun (hence why this was shown to us in an episode of s1, the season where Hawkmoths identity was still unknown. If Gabriel had stopped here not even WE would have known, leaving Gabriels name untainted of Hawkmoths crimes as the Agreste family finally moves on and Hawkmoth dissappeares as suddenly as he appeared.)

because Adrien and his health and life should not be a price Gabriel is willing to risk paying for his goal.

But Gabriel didn't do that.

Because instead of Adrien Gabriel chose the potential perfectly perfect son he wants and turned his back on the one standing right in front of him. Cuz remember what Gabriels goal IS. He wants to change the past, so non of this ever happened in the first place.

Meaning Gabriel turning his back on our present Adrien doesn't mean that Gabriel outright hates Adrien now by the next second cuz he dared to disobey his orders like that. But it means that Gabriel is choosing to separate these two Adriens in his mind, making endangering, hurting and working against THIS Adrien more of a collateral damage than actually hurting his own son. THAT son, the one Gabriel convinces himself he is fighting for, is waiting for him in the past alongside Emilie.

This separation was probably always there since Gabriel started trying to change the past hence why he justifies Adriens unhappiness and the way he abandones him as necessary sacrifices.

But the real separation started HERE, this marks the first time Gabriel just left Adrien behind in a position of complete and deliberate endangerment, knowing that the possibility of Adrien being Chat is still there but choosing to say: "if he indeed is, then that's an obstacle I will have to overcome."

This separation has been developing slowly but steadily through s2 and 3 right to "Chat Blanc" which tells us the future. Me elaborating on this "separation development" though became longer than I want to put in this post, therefore I will go into more depth about it another time.

So let me continue with this:

Adrien is like... Genuinely not even angry. More deeply sad.

He was appropriately and truly hurt when Gabriel only started talking about the ring but once Gabriel turns around and walks away? He looks after his father but more in a way as if he is waiting to see if Gabriel would actually take so much offense in him backtalking him to legitimately LEAVE like this. And Gabriel does.

Adriens intentions wasnt to make his father leave, When he talked back at him it was more of a hurt call out for Gabriel to say more, SOMETHING ELSE, but not to LEAVE!

Adrien then does something very common for people in a fight who wait for the leaving person to turn around again but have to realize that they hope in vain and the other person actually is done with this moment.

His face and body relaxes, he turns completely to the door and seems to... take it in.

Especially in the way Adrien does it here its like he is processing and accepting that what he thought of his father was wrong. Adrien thought Gabriel cared enough for him that he would want to stay even if he backtalks him for example. Adrien expected a conversation here but now had to realize that his father isn't gonna put up with him at all or their differences in an upfront way if Adrien isn't "behaving right". Gabriel will just cut the moment short and deflect whatever conversation with him he doesn't like.

All in all what Adrien took away from this moment with his father is even if Gabriel may care for him (enough to come and hug him as an apology) this care and affection is tightly bound to the way Adrien himself then reacts. If he reacts in a way Gabriel doesn't like he will very quickly deem Adrien undeserving of his affection and take it (and his entire presence) away again.

The way Adrien looks then at his ring also makes me think that he definitely blames himself for how this moment ended. That he "shouldn't have overreacted" and taken such personal offense by his fathers attempt to reconnect with him even if Gabriel hit one hell of a sore point.

This is of course BS. Even if Adrien wasn't Chat Noir the way Gabriel just straight up deflected the conversation to the ring right after the hug, where one normally starts to explain oneself and truly TALK, would have been seriously hurtful even under non-miraculous circumstances.

But it shows how Adrien by instinct immediately starts to invalidate his own feelings to look for the faults in himself. A self-hurtful coping mechanism that unfortunately only gets deepened as the dynamic between these two continues on.

And lastly it also marks the first time that the ring is truly associated with something bad. Normally (especially so early in the show) the ring stands in association with Adriens freedom and spending more time with people outside, him getting to let loose a little and how he can spend time with the girl he loves. The ring began to loose these positive associations more and more from s2 onward but the first time was here.

It's the object which ruined the moment that could have ended this tragedy before it truly began in both of their eyes and in the viewers. Sure Gabriel being Hawkmoth is the true cause of it and nothing will ever change that but it's Adriens ring, not Gabriels brooch, that sets their separation further in motion. Further as Gabriel initially intended to.

It's the factor Gabriel overlooks Adrien himself for, which is truly brought home by the end scene of "Gorizilla" which serves as a mirror to this one here.

Whereas in "Jackady" Gabriel lost sight of the son right in front of him because of the ring and what its implies, in "Gorizilla" Gabriel thinks he finally received the evidence that Adrien isn't his enemy. So for the first time Gabriel completely disregards the ring, Chat Noir out of his mind, sees ADRIEN for himself and genuinely smiles at him. He can and does make a TRUE attempt at reconnecting!

Which is of course exactly what Adrien wanted for so long, what he hoped Gabriel would do if hes just patient enough with his father. He accepts Gabriels genuine attempt gladly, reassuring his father that he and his efforts are noticed, appreciated and wanted even after everything that happened so they can hopefully go on to a better future.

This is what would have saved this family back in "Jackady" if only Gabriel had chosen the right priority. But as I said before, this moment here happens in s2 after Gabriel crossed the line in Jackady, so this positiv moment can not save them anymore. Both Gabriel and Adrien are already too far in and influenced by their alter egos and the miraculous. So the brief reconnection couldn't last and everything continues to only further fall apart ever since.

And it all began with this beautiful, heartbreaking and tragic moment in "Jackady" these two will never ever be able to truly come back from again.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #Gabriel Agreste #Chat Noir #Cat Noir #Le Papillion #Jackady #Gorizilla #ml scene analysis #one of my favorite scenes #I love everything about this #ml analysis #Family Agreste tragedy #ml sugar #hawkmoth #the beginning of the end for these two

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freddiekluger · 4 years

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I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

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armageddonouttahere · 4 years

Text

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

________________________________________________________________

Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him?

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through.

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle.

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much. Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic. As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

________________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

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highladyluck · 4 years

Text

I feel like anyone reading this blog on the regular is probably at least neutral if not actually positively inclined towards Mat and Tuon's relationship (or you would have unfollowed or blocked me or my Mat/Tuon tag after the past month), but nonetheless I still feel the need to set the record straight about their last canonical interaction. On the surface, it does not look like these two crazy kids are going to make it! But I have hope, and here's why. (Essay with entire series spoilers under the cut).

Tuon frowned. The explosions reflected in her dark eyes. "I'm with child," she said. "The Doomseer has confirmed it." Mat felt a jolt, as sure as if a firework had gone off inside of his stomach. An heir. A son, no doubt! what odds that it was a boy? Mat forced a grin. "Well, I guess I'm off the hook, now. You have an heir." "I have an heir," Tuon said, “but I am the one off that hook. Now I can kill you, if I want." Mat felt his grin widen. "Well, we'll have to see what we can work out. Tell me, do you ever play dice?"

It is with deep embarrassment that I must tell you that this is how these two dumbasses flirt with each other. I'm sorry! It hurts me too.

Things that look like baldfaced threats from Tuon are not a new interaction, so we have a pattern to study. Tuon has basically been threatening to demote Mat for insubordination (with asides on his appearance) since kidnapping Day 1. She does it when she thinks he's being rude or acting inappropriately; she never strikes first, but if she thinks he's been rude to her she'll be rude right back. I think the first time she threatens to make him her cupbearer is when she's pissed off that her cover story is that she's a thieving servant. Then it's when he's a little late for their shopping trip. Interestingly, she's like 'you look good in lace', which is actually a compliment, so she covers it up with 'maybe I'll dress you in lace when you're my cupbearer'.

The other times she does it is when he has bad table manners (and doesn't apologize for it or change behavior to her satisfaction.) The time she does it in the thakan’bar ‘hell’ she changes it from 'cupbearer' to 'running groom' because 'he's good with horses'. She's increasingly sure that he's the one in the prophecy so I think these become increasingly less serious threats- they also become increasingly mixed with compliments of a sort. She's taking him down a peg, but also complimenting him half the time, which makes it somewhat of a playful insult, which is a flirting strategy used by people who don't know their own feelings or who want plausible deniability about them.

Once they're officially married, and he does something insubordinate or that puts her status in court at risk, she switches to "Please don't make me execute you" with similar additions of "I'm growing fond of you"/"It would be a shame to kill you before you gave me an heir" and so on. She's telling him to behave, but the threats are pretty much entirely empty. Mat knows by this point that while she probably would kill someone who was loyal to her if she thought she absolutely had to, she will go out of her way to avoid doing it and would absolutely not do it on a whim and without considerable soul-searching, and he also knows that she has looked out for his welfare multiple times and is possessive of 'her' people.

There's a lot of examples of Tuon protecting Mat, from her attempt to salve his infected wounds- after she takes him down a peg for being smug about the kiss by telling him he has a fever and his wounds must be infected- and the way she and Selucia pull him back from spooky doom in Shiota, and her saving him outside the Hell, and the fact that she goes to rescue him when he's beset by Grey Men in the command tent, etc. And he knows that she trusts him implicitly because she looked to see what he was aiming at when he threw a knife at the assassin behind her. Trust is extremely important to Tuon and she trusts Mat with her life. There is no way she actually wants to kill him and they both know it.

Also, her prophecy specifically said "It is him you will marry and no other" and she plans to have a bunch of children so they can all fight for the throne and the fittest will win. She *knows* she's stuck with Mat. Honestly, Mat heard her version of the prophecy and should also have done the math and figured out that she isn't going to get legitimate heirs with anyone else, and that if she says she's with him to get an heir for the Empire, that means she's stuck with him for the rest of her childbearing years at the very least, because she's got to name the heir apparent for the succession to really be finalized. But in fairness Mat was distracted at the time and I also think he doesn't want to think about the fact that his kids are going to be encouraged to murder each other, which is, you know, fair. (There are actual, major problems in store for their relationship! Obviously! But sincere death threats for spouses is, I argue, not actually one of them.)

But I think, based on how she acts more than what she says, Mat knows that she's not serious about killing him. I think he knows this is just her weird way of flirting, because he's the one starting the joke, albeit tentatively, since he’s forcing the grin- it's her joke, it's not his, he's testing the waters and trying to mimic her terms (the way she often does with his, to comedic effect- remember how she put the same swear into the wedding vows he did!) He's taking a risk, he's saying "Well I guess I've done what you said is my job, I'll go if you don't want me around...?" And her response is "Actually *I* did *my* job!" (Subtext: I am specifically not saying your job is over- just like I specifically made you not under my protection at the circus so you had to stick with me and see the whole thing through- so by extension, you are not free to go, this is not over.) "Now I can kill you if I want." (Subtext: "And if I actually wanted you to leave I'd just kill you instead. ;)" The ;) is a stand-in for even more subtext, which is "And we both know I am not actually going to kill you, dumbass.") That's why Mat reacts with an actual grin- he correctly parses that she wants him to stick around- and a reply that boils down to "Wanna bet? ;)" which is both an acknowledgment of "I'm calling your bluff about the killing me thing" and an overture of friendship, because Mat likes to play games with his friends. (He said the same thing to the Seanchan soldier he won over earlier in AMOL.)

At this point they know each other well enough to hear the stuff that's underneath the bravado and posturing, and they have figured out how to communicate well enough to a) fake a convincing split for battle strategy purposes and b) mostly be sure that it is just a fake split. They know their relationship is weird and vulnerable in a lot of ways, but they also have a deep practical awareness that the other person values them and will keep their promises, that the other person can be trusted to protect them, and that they need things from one another. They're both people who have a lot going on under the surface, who aren't super introspective and also deliberately hide their feelings and lie about them for advantage or survival. But their actions tell the true story, and they know it.

#mat/tuon #in this essay I will #a memory of light #a memory of light spoilers #matrim cauthon #tuon paendrag #problematic fave tuon #mat the adrenaline junkie enjoys flirting with danger #wheel of time

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littlefoxwithbighat · 4 years

Text

Hi! This is talking about the plot of the dream smp in a meta sense and its a bit negative. The person behind this blog wants to remind you that you can skip if it's not for you and they still love the SMP. :)

ALL DISCUSSION IS ABOUT CHARACTERS. DON'T ATTACK CCS OR I WILL STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS.

I can't lie; I'm really annoyed and worried at the way the writers are handling Tommys character at the moment, and am increasingly concerned about it messing up the plot.

I wasn't very happy with the finale. I don't think that means all is lost, I think they can pull it back but it's going to take some work. I was worried about the way that things were handled before but the green festival was actually very well handled, so my worries were mostly assuaged. But yesterday? I don't know.

The fact nobody lost a cannon death is kind of disappointing. The weight of blowing up an entire city/ (country?) brutally is somewhat lost if there is no human loss. Nobody was hurt physically and the only people this had a big mental impact on was Tommy and Tubbo, everyone else wasn't very attached to L'manburg or had gone rogue, or were detatched from the while situation. And maybe it's the fact it's happened to them before or that they still have each other or that it seems odd/ frustrating that they still care so much about this place or that it was always a losing battle and they knew it, but I dont find myself really pitying them like I probably should. And I think that comes down to character growth or lack thereof, which I'll discuss later.

Niki and Fundy have started a villain arc, or at least a violent nihilism arc, and I actually don't mind it, in fact I'm a fan but it wasnt really foreshadowed, or really just showing them cracking as much as it should have been. I would guess this has mostly been started for both of them to tie Niki into the plot and I can't blame her for wanting that. Fundys acting is very good, and I REALLY hope the writers handle this well. For Fundy, regarding the fact that his father is going to be resurrected and that Fundy is following in his footsteps... If the writers don't realise that connection and make this a big step in Fundys narrative I will scream. Also Funboo bros are very interesting character foils and I hope their relationship is maintained so that they can play of off each other and also man I just really want them to keep being friends, it's a generally positive healthy relationship that makes both characters sympathetic and we need that right now. As for Niki, her character motivations seem to be mostly centered around Tommy and on the one hand I'm like ehhhh, because Tommy's character already gets a disproportionate amount of attention in terms of narrative, and I get it, but recently he's been a bit TOO much of the protagonist for a multi-person POV improve server... and I'm apprehensive. However on the other hand this has potential for a nice confrontation between Tommy and Niki. If that happens I want Tommy to be aware that this is going to happen and not talk over Niki, and I don't want it to be brushed over. I think it would be best if it was just the two of them. This also gives a nice chance for Tommy to examine his trauma with Dream and explain his motivations and Niki to get her anger out. I also want it to end positively, because it absolutely can and lack of communication when the viewer knows how to fix it is OK as a plot device sometimes but incredibly frustrating if it keeps happening (cough, Tommy and Techno).

Ranboo is reacting to the plot amazingly and I have as usual only praise for him, go, you funky enderman boy, go.

Wilbur is getting resurrected which is a thousand percent because Will wants the plot back and honestly I don't really mind, I think he'll do a good job. However I really hope he speaks to everybody about their characters, particularly Fundy, Ranboo and Niki because I don't want their characterisation and arcs to be thrown away.

Tubbo is doing very well, and I don't have many complaints to be honest. I hope he continues to get in with the acting with no shame, because he's an amazing VA when he wants to be, but sometimes he undercuts serious moments a little too much by laughing. Same criticism for Phil actually. But both are doing good.

On the theme of that, while I don't mind tension relievers or humour in serious moments there are sometimes too many. It was a lot worse about a month back and it was improving, but it seems to be creeping back in and ehhh. It's kind of Marvel-esque and not in a good way? I think it has a lot to do with bloopers and for some reason there are loads at the moment? Like Wilburs arc had almost none and this arc there's at least 2 every moment. Which isn't always their fault but maybe they need to take more steps to prevent them.

Techno is doing OK, he's quite a meta character so I'm not too mad about him undercutting serious moments but sometimes he does do it too much or in the wrong place. Like making jokes about Connor completely over the top of Tommy and Tubbos reunion, you know an event which has been foreshadowed for yoinks, prevented them from getting a proper flow going and kind of ruined it. And that made the reunion really dissapointing, which is a shame because it could have been so cool. However his characterisation is consistent and dedicated, his goals and relationships are clear and he's getting humanised more which is nice, and his monologues are great. I'm curious to see what he does now NL'M is gone but I have total faith in him.

Now Tommy. Oh Tommy. His character is such a mess at the moment, which is a shame because there were moments I saw people doubting his character choices and I was behind him.

Firstly the relationship with Techno fell apart. That was inevitable. Tommy didn't care about anarchy and Techno didn't care about the discs and both of their goals would impede the others. But the way Tommy talks about Techno is so... No? And now I understand that Tommy is going to have a biased perspective on the whole situation, and that's fine and good, but his character is so wrong about Techno it feels weird and painful? Like even from his perspective it went down differently to how he talks about it. They don't listen to each other and it's like watching two people scream at a wall.

The issue is the relationship was fairly well developed. I struggle to see Tommy saying he saw Techno as a friend but Techno never saw him as a friend because hold on, what? Techno, here's a respiration helmet because of that one of thing you told me about your trauma, a disc because those make you happy, plus top tier armour and weaponry, plus I'm going to spend time with you, calm you down from panic attacks, hide you and protect you from Dream, let you wander around L'manburg and achieve your own goals and help you plan things out Techno and Tommy didn't get ANYTHING from that? Plus after Techno opens up about his goals and his trauma, do the one thing that would hurt him the most, (use and then betray him) and then directly oppose his goals after he helped me? Ugh. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I know he would never let Tubbo get hurt and thats fine, but there were ways around that. If you're framing this character as the protagonist, then he needs to be sympathetic or at least grow and Tommy using Techno again without remorse and then refusing to listen to his perspective or show any gratitude for anything makes it difficult for viewers to empathise with him in my opinion. Have him betray Techno and then listen to Techno when he explains why Tommys betrayal hurt him and apologise, fine. Have him listen to Techno and try and find a way to keep Tubbo safe regardless, fine. Have him betray Techno but apologetically and still trying to avoid Techo getting crushed or killed, fine. But THIS? Im sympathetic towards Tommys character but this throws away so much potential character development for Tommy, where at least he saw Techno as a person, and not only that but a nice person who despite everything has set aside everything to help him? And then for him to be exactly where he was at the end of season 1, both literally, and emotionally ? I understand this is a child soldier with trauma but this is supposed to be our protagonist and if he doesn't grow, and isn't sympathetic and destroys someone we care about, how can we root for him?

Now all of this could be forgivable, not great, but forgivable, if Tommy had moved on from the discs. The Goddamn Discs™. And the worse part is all the dominoes were lined up to suggest he had! We had his moment of "he watched me" where he realised Dream was the villain and controlling him, "I've become worse than everyone I hated" good, amazing, I see where this is going, "The discs were worth more than you ever were!" and then he retracts and apologises and you think horray! Tommy has realised the discs were being used to control him and if he doesn't care about them, they hold no value! Now he's going to realise that his friends are more important and he's going to stop going after the discs. His new character motivation can be killing Dream and protecting his friends, especially Tubbo. It's clearly angled this way, and this way the plot progresses and Tommy with it. What marvellous character development. Look at him go.

And THEN, after everything that's happened he says the most important thing is the disc and I want them back!?!? EH !!? Why... Who... Who gave the OK on that writing decision? That's so static and boring and unsympathetic! And then he's back to asking people do fight for L'manburg? What?

I'll be honest I was kind go hoping either Tommy or Tubbo would die with L'manburg. I didn't mind it they didn't, there are a thousand ways to make the plot work without them dying, but this was not a great one.

PLEASE let Tommy have some growth. Yes he's had some from not caring about L'manburg to fighting for it in season one, but that was ages ago and he doesnt seem to have changed since then in any way that really counts. And I know this is harsh and he's traumatised but you have to understand I am talking about this in a sense of characters and narrative and NOT in terms of real life. Tommy needs to be better and dynamic because he is a charcacter and I want him to be a good one.

Having said all that, here are my thoughts on the future of the SMP.

Firstly, I am worried that becuse it is such a good source of content, especially for Tommy that they will never ever kill his character and leave him fighting with Dream for eternity. And I love the Dream SMP but I've seen stories that get dragged out for plot or content, and however much you think you want it to never end, let me tell you, yes you do. It will get stale and repetitive and I want the dream smp, or at least Tommys arc to go out with a beautiful and brilliant and fabulous plot ending instead of being dragged into the dirt. And then maybe new characters take the spotlight. Just please god give it a goode ending.

I also really hope they don't throw other things away to make Tommy the centre of attention, especially if it's destructive to the plot, or kind of weird and obnoxious.

Secondly, I am intrigued about the prison and Schlatts book to Dream and Technos favour and the egg and what that entails and I hope they really think through those plot points carefully and make them work, and don't forget them or throw them away.

Thirdly, I am intrigued for Wilburs return and hope that he manages to fix it cohesively without too crazy a change of pace and style and keeping characters (especially Ranboo and Fundy and Niki) consistent.

I hope they prep for the future and think things thought and communicate with each other.

It might be interesting to see other countries finally discussed but I don't know how much that would intefere with other plot points so we'll see.

That's all! Reminder that this is about characters and plot and this is just a few criticisms. I love the dream smp, but there are somethings I wanted to get of my chest. Please be respectful and feel free to discuss in the notes. Also, again, no hate to any CCs!

#mcyt #mcytumblr #dream smp theories #dream smp analysis #dream smp #dream smp spoilers #dream smp meta #tommy mcyt #negativity #negativity tw #dream smp plot

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joezworld · 4 years

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Fools in Love (9/10)

Gordon, the spectacularly unobservant

June 17, 1985

Like most mornings, Gordon was unceremoniously ripped from his beauty sleep by the sounds of squabbling.

"I will and you can't stop me!"

"Fuck around and find out my dear!"

How unusual. It was usually James and Delta or Duck and/or Donald/Douglas. Henry and Bear were usually too friendly for even mock-fighting, let alone the legitimate anger that seemed to be colouring their tones.

"Why," he asked groggily. “Am I being woken up by you two? I thought that you’d moved beyond mere words.”

Henry and Bear, who usually communicated through a series of significant glances, looked at Gordon as though they hadn’t realized he was there.

“It’s nothing, Gordon.” Bear said after a moment of wild-eyed pause. “Just some... irritating people on the platform, is all."

Must be some irritation, Gordon thought to himself. He couldn’t remember the last time that he'd seen Bear's dander up that high.

No more words were said as his crew readied him for departure, and he could almost feel Henry and Bear's eyes on him as he left.

The arguing began anew as soon as he left the shed.

Now Gordon was concerned.

Arriving at the station brought even more worry - James had snorted out of platform two like he was auditioning to be a thundercloud, leaving a choking miasma of smoke and soot in his wake.

A crowd of people were holding signs and chanting slogans near the station Café as he backed onto his train. The Fat Controller was standing nearby, looking deeply upset, while station security tried to usher the people out. Considering the soot all over their clothes and signs, Gordon's first thought was that these people had been upset by James' departure, before he realized that these people had likely been the reason for James' upset in the first place.

Any lingering sympathy he might have had vanished as the leader of the group stood up on a box and started ranting about how the Fat Controller wanted to drive them out of the station, and they had a permit to demonstrate.

Permit they may have had, but their language was filthy. It was no wonder that his friends were upset.

Gordon decided that these people needed to leave.

The guard blew his whistle, waved his flag, and Gordon didn’t move.

The guard blew his whistle and waved his flag again, and Gordon still didn’t move.

“Is something wrong, Gordon?” Asked the Fat Controller as he noticed Gordon’s uncharacteristically slow start.

“No sir, but I wouldn’t stand there if I were you.”

The Fat Controller looked behind him. The crowd of people were about ten feet back and few feet behind him, slowly being shoved backwards towards the exits by the station staff.

He looked in front of him. Gordon’s blowdown pipe was slowly dripping with water.

“I can’t recommend that, Gordon.”

“Please move, sir.”

There must have been a look in Gordon’s eye, because the Fat Controller actually did move, waving off the station staff as he did so. The group of angry people relaxed slightly, not realizing that they were now alone on a section of empty platform.

The guard, who saw the Fat Controller move away, waved his flag and blew his whistle a third time.

Gordon didn’t move, but his fireman jumped when he saw the pressure in Gordon’s boiler skyrocket.

“Cripes!” He shouted, and pulled on the lever to blow off steam.

Chaos ensued as steam roared out of Gordon’s boiler and into the station. Inside the enclosed building, it was so loud and so steamy that not even Gordon could hear or see anything, and men outside the station started running towards it, thinking that something had gone dreadfully wrong!

Eventually, the thunderous noise died down, and Gordon was able to see again.

The Fat Controller, who had jumped into his cab as steam filled the building, poked his head out into the open air. His suit was soaked from the residual humidity, and his hat was ruined.

The wall directly opposite Gordon now had a circular spot about a meter wide that was noticeably cleaner than the rest of the wall from where it had been effectively steam-cleaned.

The angry people were angry no more - now they were frightened, soggy, and deaf. None of them were seriously hurt, but they still beat a hasty retreat from the station, leaving many of their signs behind.

Speaking of which... now that the steam had cleared away James’ soot, Gordon could now see what their signs said.

What an odd cause, He thought to himself. Why would they be against happy people?

----------------------------

February 14, 1987

They were at it again.

Bear was being even more unusual than normal. He’d woken up at the crack of dawn, raced out of the shed at maximum speed, and seemed intent on setting a land speed record for pick-up goods.

Delta had seemed to be her usual overbearing self, but as the day had gone on she’d become more and more anxious. In the interest of being a good friend, Gordon had asked her what was wrong, only for her to tell him that she was "just excited, nothing to worry about and no offense but I don’t think that you’d understand.”

Gordon would have said that something had gotten into the diesel fuel, but BoCo had been similarly puzzled when they spoke at the junction. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them - it’s like they’ve got a hot date or something.”

“A date? With whom?”

“Search me. But half of my passengers are acting the same way - it is Valentine’s Day after all.”

"But that’s a human holiday. Why would they care?"

That also didn’t explain James, whose obsessing over his paintwork had reached new heights of neurotic.

"You will polish my tender until you can see your face in it! Understand?!" He shouted at the workmen.

That night, the sheds were tense, even if there wasn’t any reason for it.

Delta had come back on Bear's evening train - the Hymek himself was nowhere to be seen. Gordon considered it a good thing that Henry was in Barrow that night - he had a tendency to get lonely when Bear was somewhere else, and Delta and James were decidedly on edge all evening.

Without either of the big green engines, the sheds were somewhat emptier than usual, a sensation that grew more and more pronounced as engine after engine left for late-night trains.

Edward left for his late night local around 9, and was followed by BoCo half an hour later.

Percy, who had been sleeping in the sheds most of the day, was practically shooed out by a strangely apologetic James, and huffily left for Elsbridge with a goods train.

A visiting diesel was going home to London, and had been rostered to take the night express all the way to the capitol. When the Class 50 left a few minutes after Percy, Gordon became suddenly aware that the shed was empty aside from himself, Delta, and James.

"How strange," he remarked. "Normally we're all here by this point in the evening."

"I agree," Delta said quickly. "Especially considering that you have to go take something soon as well. I can’t remember the last time the big shed's been this empty."

"What train?" Gordon raised an eyebrow. "I have no trains tonight."

"What." James didn't phrase it as a question.

"Was there something I missed?"

"I thought that you'd have a train tonight." James said, looking panicked.

"I don't do night runs if I can help it James, are you two feeling alright?" Both red engines were looking increasingly alarmed.

"What about the Flying Kipper?"

"I assumed that Henry would take it."

"Henry's in Barrow!"

"Hmm. Why don't one of you take it?"

"Can't." | "We're busy." They said simultaneously.

"Doing what?"

"Not that." James said quickly.

Gordon was about to argue further when James’ crew wandered into the shed.

“Alright boyo! Time for the night mail! Let’s get rolling!” His driver said with way too much joviality for the late hour.

James looked horrified. “Night mail? I can’t take the night mail! I’m not in steam!”

A small wisp of smoke curled out of his funnel as he said that. His crew stared at it.

“Gordon will take it!” James pressed on in desperation. “He likes running at night!”

Gordon, who did not like running at night, and was enjoying the pleasant sensation of his fire slowly burning out, was appalled. “I most certainly will not!” he said indignantly.

-----

“Mate, you need to work on your negotiating skills.” James’ fireman said to Gordon as the blue engine was coupled to the mail train.

“I didn’t hear you jump to my defense.” Gordon muttered darkly as he shivered in the cold February air.

“‘Course not!” The fireman said. “You think I want to spend all night in James’ little phonebox of a cab? I’ve got so much more room in here!” He swung his shovel around for emphasis, causing a massive CLANG as he accidentally smacked it against the cab wall.

“Good for you...” Gordon grit his teeth and waited for the signal to drop. The sooner this was over the better.

-----

Two hours later

Fortunately for Gordon, the midnight run was more or less flawless - he had a green signal the entire way across the Island, and aside from having to slow down for track workers outside of Maron station, he made good time into Barrow.

Passing his train off to the yard shunter, Gordon eagerly awaited his berth in the shed. Perhaps he could get some answers out of Henry as to why -

“Sorry mate - not going in ‘ere tonight.” Groused a diesel multiple unit that was sitting astride the points leading to the shed.

“I beg your pardon?” Gordon was not amused.

“Beg all ye like - teh basterds in ‘ere told me to sod off.” The Pacer was no happier than Gordon as he explained. “Said the shed was closed and made me sit outside in the freezin’ cold. Wankers...”

“Who told you that?” Gordon was unaware of any engine who would willingly block the shed - except Duck.

“Some Green bloke.”

“Henry?”

“No, not the kettle! Some other berk - a ‘eritage diesel or some shite like that.” The railcar shivered. “Big, Green, looked ancient, told me to keep out and make sure nobody else came in.”

“And you did what he said?” Gordon was rapidly losing patience with the railbus.

“I wasn’t gonna, but...” The Pacer trailed off guiltily and looked down at his buffers. Gordon followed his gaze and saw that the little multiple unit had derailed on the points.

“I see.” Gordon sighed. He wanted to blame the Pacer, but clearly there was some sort of preserved diesel who was truly to blame.

“At least it isn’t bad outside other than tha cold.” The railcar said, trying to be cheerful.

Gordon stared murderously at the sheds. It had snowed six inches overnight.

To make matters worse, he was now being roped into the morning express - a duty he usually cherished, but would prevent him from knowing the identity of the blasted diesel that had kept him from his warm shed.

Gordon had not been gone more than ten minutes when the shed doors opened and a diesel rolled out of it.

“Oh look Henry, it snowed last night!” Bear called back into the sheds.

“SHOVE IT UP YER INTAKES!” Yelled the Pacer from underneath his snowbank.

#ttte gordon #sodor #ttte #OC: Delta #ttte Bear #ttte James #ttte henry #valentines day #snow #sodor shenangians #fools in love #gordon doesn't notice anything #fic

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elyvorg · 4 years

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Kaito Momota: How ADHD Can Be

It’s about time I properly shared a take of mine that I never really talk about in my usual analysis posts, which is my very firm headcanon that Kaito has ADHD. While this is partly thanks to me having ADHD myself, self-indulgence is far from the only thing making me think this. There are so many reasons why this makes every single bit of sense, and this post is going to talk about all of them.

And, see, I don’t want to alienate anyone by having them think I’m about to present an interpretation of Kaito that looks nothing like the Kaito we know, because that’s not it at all. I’m here to talk about how so many of the things that were already abundantly true about him also happen to fit perfectly with ADHD. Really, you could think of it more as me talking about how ADHD actually looks a lot more like Kaito than most people might have realised.

After all, ADHD is a frustratingly misrepresented disorder that’s way more complex and interesting than most people are aware. So not only does it make a huge amount of sense to see Kaito as ADHD, it’s also just genuinely fascinating to think that this could be influencing how his mind works and the way he reacts to things throughout the story. Imagining that Kaito has ADHD could never make him any less Kaito, but I do think it makes him yet another layer of interesting on top of everything else he already has going on.

So even if you don’t have any personal investment in ADHD yourself, I hope you can follow along with me for this. There’s a lot of fun stuff to talk about here.

(Since ADHD is so horribly misrepresented that I can’t expect the average person to know what it really involves, this post is also going to include something of a whirlwind explanation of ADHD itself, in order to help people better appreciate why all these things about Kaito are potentially ADHD things. With that said, obvious disclaimer: I am not remotely a mental health professional, just someone with self-diagnosed ADHD who’s read up a lot about it. Some of this will be from things I’ve read, and some of this will be from my own experiences that I’m now pretty sure are an ADHD thing. My descriptions of these symptoms are likely to be somewhat oversimplified because I’m focusing on explaining this headcanon rather than explaining ADHD itself, so please don’t take this as a definitely-100%-accurate ADHD resource. I’m happy if this can raise awareness of what ADHD is really like, but you should look elsewhere to learn more.)

Hyperfixations

One major thing that ought to be more commonly known about ADHD is that it’s really not a lack of attention; it’s an inability to properly control where our attention goes. It’s been described as an “interest-based nervous system” – we’ll involuntarily focus on whatever seems most interesting to us in any given moment, regardless of its objective importance.

This plus a reduced amount of dopamine receptors means that when we manage to find something that gives us a lot of dopamine, ie, is fun and engaging to think about, we cannot stop thinking about it even if we wanted to. Our entire lives will begin to revolve around this Thing that we enjoy, thinking about it, doing things related to it and consuming more information on it to get as much of that sweet dopamine as possible. This can often be to the detriment of everything else, including more objectively important matters, because who cares about that stuff when Thing is the best thing ever!?

As an example: as you might imagine, I have been hyperfixated on DRV3 and especially on Kaito for over two years now. I have not been able to stop thinking about Kaito even when I’m supposed to be doing other things, and there’s literally nothing that’s more fun for me right now than sharing all these thoughts of mine with other people. We also love to infodump about our hyperfixations to anyone who’ll listen, after all. That’s precisely why this post exists, along with many more like it on both my blogs.

SPACE

So, this is perhaps one of the most easy-to-spot signs that Kaito might be ADHD. Because, man, he really loves space. Sure, any astronaut would have at least some level of interest in it, but Kaito is so obsessed with space that he introduces himself with a grandiose space-themed title, wears a galaxy print on his slippers and the inside of his jacket, and simply couldn’t wait for a college degree and had to make sure he got up there as fast as possible.

Granted, it’s not like Kaito talks about space 100% of the time. He is stuck in a killing game, after all, which is also kind of important to pay attention to. But, still, no matter what more-objectively-important things they can push themselves to focus on when necessary, there’s always a part of an ADHDer’s brain that’s near-constantly thinking about their hyperfixation anyway and will take any opportunity to bring it up and make things about that if they possibly can. And, well, Kaito still talks about space quite a lot considering that he’s in a life-or-death situation that doesn’t have anything to do with space at all (at least, as far as he knows for most of the story).

There’s one delightful bit of white noise I absolutely love in a debate in trial 4 where Gonta is suggesting a vehicle could have crossed the river. Someone responds to this with “Like a rocket?”, despite the fact that, A, there were obviously none of those in the Virtual World, and B, you don’t use those to cross rivers. Kaito, you dork, now is not the time. But of course now’s the time, there is always time to be thinking about space-related things, no matter how impractical and irrelevant it might be. Someone has been murdered, everyone else’s lives are on the line – not to mention his illness and the huge pile of inferiority issues he’s struggling with at this point in the story – yet amongst all that, Kaito’s brain still found time to go, “hey, speaking of vehicles, aren’t rockets the coolest!?” And… yeah, that’s genuinely what hyperfixations are like.

Then there’s the time Kaito asked Maki what her favourite spaceship was, like this is just an obvious go-to conversation starter in his mind, because of course he has a favourite spaceship. He has thought a lot about his favourite spaceship (or spaceships; let’s be real, there’s probably several that he thinks are SO COOL and might call his favourite depending on the circumstances) and could fill ages talking about nothing but that. Even though he knows this conversation ought to be making its way towards helping Maki open up about her past – this is one of his training sessions, after all! – there is still a part of Kaito that really just wants to talk about space, because a part of him always wants to talk about space.

We can see this as well in multiple FTE invitation dialogues (those brief lines describing how they hung out before the actual event starts) in which Kaito apparently spends it talking to Kaede or Shuichi about space, just because he can. There’s also several of his hangouts in the Salmon Team bonus mode where Shuichi’s suggestion of what to do doesn’t really have anything to do with space, but Kaito finds a way to make it about space anyway. ADHD minds are hyper-associative and make connections between concepts very easily – and, naturally, they’re particularly liable to make connections to the thing that the mind is already spending the majority of its time thinking about. So it’s really not so surprising or remarkable at all that Kaito can find ways to make even seemingly-totally-unrelated topics about space somehow, not if he’s ADHD.

(…To be fair, a particular fixation on a certain topic to the point of repeatedly bringing it up when it’s not called for isn’t necessarily that uncommon among Danganronpa characters, what with their talents. But hey, that doesn’t have to make Kaito any less likely to be ADHD. Rather, it would actually make sense for Ultimate students to have a higher than average proportion of ADHDers among them, since an ADHD-fuelled level of intense interest in a thing is more likely to make someone become hugely talented at it out of accumulated knowledge and practice. I’ve been increasingly thinking that Kaede could perhaps be ADHD, too, for example. But that’s not for this post; we’re talking about Kaito here.)

The longevity of space

ADHDers will generally go through many different hyperfixations throughout their life, sometimes one at a time, sometimes somehow managing to juggle more than one. An individual hyperfixation tends to last anywhere between a few weeks to a few years depending on its intensity and the longevity of the topic, but it’s rare for it to be more than that. Usually, sooner or later, the overwhelming passion for the thing will wear itself out.

And admittedly, Kaito’s passion for space has been there since he was a kid and never faded – and never will, of course! – which is far more persistent than most hyperfixations tend to be. But then again, there’s so many different things related to space for him to get excited about! Hyperfixations fade either when something else comes along that’s more exciting because it’s new and fresh, or when you’ve squeezed every last possible drop of dopamine out of it such that it no longer holds quite the same thrill. But with a topic as vast as space, there’s always more to learn to keep the excitement fresh, especially now that Kaito’s an astronaut trainee and is really on the front line of new space knowledge and technologies and is actually going to get there himself one day!

Besides, it’s not like ADHDers’ hyperfixations are completely outside of their control. My own hyperfixation on V3 and Kaito would probably have faded ages ago if I hadn’t kept it going by constantly making more content about it such as this. And similarly, there’s no way Kaito would have wanted to let go of his passion for space, not if he had any say in it himself, so he’d have done whatever he could to keep it burning during the times when the spark maybe wasn’t quite there as much. I don’t think it’s at all unreasonable that Kaito could have remained hyperfixated on space for so unusually long and still be showing no signs of stopping. We all know how stubborn he is.

(House plants)

Kaito has probably had a few other, lesser hyperfixations alongside his lifelong passion for space. For example, I like to think that his fondness for house plants, according to his report card, is to such an extent that he was once hyperfixated on them. (This would have been for reasons that totally don’t bear a suspicious resemblance to other things he cares about.) I doubt he’s currently hyperfixating on them at the moment – at no point does he ever try to shift the conversation to being about house plants unprompted – but that wouldn’t stop him from still being generally fond of them and retaining all of the “useless” information he learned about them back when he was obsessed. One very rarely ever stops caring about a hyperfixation topic entirely; rather, the fixation just fades and the topic becomes no longer constantly on someone’s mind. I’m sure Kaito still could and would talk your ear off about house plants just as much as he would about space if you happened to get him started.

People

More importantly, though, I think that another of Kaito’s less obvious and intense hyperfixations – but still a very long-lasting one that’s active right now – could be, simply, people. Just, people in general: their flaws and complexities and differences, all the many ways in which they can communicate and work together, and the amazing potential they have to achieve great things if they do so. Kaito is so passionate about this stuff and has so many fully-formed opinions on things of this nature that make it seem like he’s spent a lot of his free time thinking about this, just because he can. Maybe he began to get interested in it after realising that communication and teamwork is important for an astronaut – but it also reads to me like Kaito is into this kind of stuff not because he needs to be for the sake of getting into space, but simply because he finds it genuinely fascinating and couldn’t stop thinking about it even if he had to. (Which would also help keep him interested in space, because it’s intrinsically linked to this other topic that Kaito finds fascinating!)

And within this, Kaito definitely hyperfixates in particular on his sidekicks. Once he’s made someone into his sidekick, which functionally means that he’s going to devote himself to supporting them through their issues and helping them reach their potential, he really devotes himself. It’s his hyperfixation on people in general, but concentrated on a specific person(s) that he can have a direct and tangible impact on, which means even more to him than just his feelings about how awesome and fascinating humanity is as a whole.

Kaito is really, really good at supporting his sidekicks, after all. He spends so much time, even when he’s not around them, thinking about what their problems are and the best ways he can help them. He was clearly eyeing up both Shuichi and Maki as potential sidekicks at least a day or two before actually acting on it and inviting them to training, as if he was trying to gauge exactly what their struggles were and how best to help before jumping right in. He approaches helping each of them in very different ways, making it clear that he’s specifically thought about who they are and the best tactics to help them individually instead of just carelessly using the same old script each time. On more than one occasion, he drops something on them one morning – the nickname “Maki Roll”, and the “bonus” training that becomes the katana scene – that he hadn’t mentioned at all the previous night, meaning that he’d been thinking further about how to keep helping them while on his own overnight.

So it seems to me like maybe it’s not just his selflessness, or his somewhat unhealthy co-dependency (more on that later, actually) that makes Kaito so good at this. I don’t think he could even stop thinking about helping his sidekicks if he tried. Figuring out how to help another human being grow and change and reach their full potential is so fascinating and engaging and rewarding to him that how could he ever not be compelled to do that as much as he possibly can?

The price of caring

This does, however, come with a downside. Because Kaito is fixating so strongly and uncontrollably on supporting his sidekicks, because doing that matters so much to him, it’s only going to hurt him more when he begins to feel like he’s failing at it. He can’t just brush something like that off as not really a big deal, because of course it’s a big deal. It’s everything to him, and it’s literally not possible for him to make himself feel like it isn’t.

It’s just as bad as if space suddenly twisted and became painful to think about somehow. Which… I guess that actually kind of happens too, when Kaito starts to realise that he’s never going to make it up there. And he can’t deal with that by trying to tell himself it was never that important, either, because space is always important to him. Even if he wanted to switch that part of his brain off or ignore it to help himself cope, he just couldn’t.

Caring so intensely about things feels amazing and makes a person wonderfully passionate, but it can also be a double-edged sword.

(Executive dysfunction?)

One big negative side to ADHD is that it tends to cause executive dysfunction, which, to massively oversimplify it, more or less means the profound inability to get yourself to do things that you know you’re supposed to be perfectly able to do. That interest-based nervous system does not do well with motivating us to do tasks that are objectively important but aren’t interesting or fun to actually carry out, resulting in a mental block that can appear to the outside observer like wilful laziness, even though it really, really isn’t.

This appears to be one part of ADHD that Kaito manages to avoid having to deal with. (He may superficially seem “lazy” during training, but that has nothing to do with his brain and everything to do with his body and the fact that he’s sick and doesn’t want anyone to know.) But I think that’s mostly because none of the reasons that ADHD causes executive dysfunction actually apply in the killing game.

One of the few things other than interest that motivates an ADHD brain is urgency – suddenly they can do that boring essay they’ve been putting off when the deadline is tonight, showing remarkable speed and focus in a fit of nervous anxiety over the potential consequences of turning it in late. And there’s plenty of literal do-or-die urgency to motivate Kaito during the killing game, so there’s no way he’d ever not be motivated to do what he feels he needs to do to help everyone there. Plus, the things he’s trying to do involve helping people, something he inherently finds interesting, so he’d be motivated for those reasons anyway even if it wasn’t quite so life-threateningly vital that he does so.

(Kaito is a bit flakier and liable to miss important details during the investigations and trials, mind you. This might be because, while the urgency of “if we don’t solve the case we die” is looming over him, the actual details of the case aren’t something that instinctively feels urgent or that he inherently finds interesting, so it’s harder for him to pay proper attention and take it all in even when he’s trying to. Kaito has plenty of intelligence in a lot of ways, but his brain is evidently not wired for investigations and deductions like Shuichi’s is – he’s perfectly capable of following Shuichi’s logic and understanding it, but not of figuring any of that stuff out himself in the first place. This could partly be down to Kaito having ADHD and just not being interested enough in these particular kinds of mental exercises to be able to get his brain to focus on them as much as he’d need to in order to solve them.)

I also don’t think executive dysfunction would have got in Kaito’s way much during his regular life before the killing game. (You know, if he’d actually had one, but let’s pretend for now that he did.) Motivation issues can be helped a lot by an externally-imposed structure telling you what you need to do and when, which is why a lot of ADHD people don’t even notice any problems while they’re in a school system and only fall apart once they’re adults and are suddenly expected to structure their own life. Kaito’s astronaut training would definitely give him plenty of structure to work from so that he always knew what he needed to do and never had this issue. It’s also really challenging, which is another thing that helps keep ADHD people interested and motivated. And while the actual end goal of getting to space is far-off enough that it wouldn’t be able to work as a direct motivator to an ADHD brain (we are bad at things with delayed gratification), everything Kaito’s learning would still be related to space and communication and teamwork, so he’d be interested in learning all of it simply for its own sake.

Emotional hyperarousal

Another big defining feature of ADHD that isn’t nearly as well-known as it ought to be is that it amplifies emotions to a far greater intensity than those of neurotypical people. ADHDers’ feelings and reactions are naturally bigger and louder and just more than most people’s – which sounds a lot like Kaito, doesn’t it? He’s always larger than life, energetic and passionate about everything, not just his specific hyperfixations. Look at how excited he gets about just seeing snow! And he has so much enthusiasm for so much else, too – as he puts it: “there’s nothing unnecessary in this world!” When Kaito feels things, he feels them full-throttle, with no half-measures, which is just how Kaito would always want things to be!

…But, whether he likes it or not, that also applies to the painful feelings just as much as the good ones.

Emotional dysregulation

Kaito can often be very reactionary and get unnecessarily riled up over minor things that don’t really warrant such a dramatic response. If you think about it, this isn’t really something he’d want to do, because he’s always trying to stay positive and keep people on his side. So apparently it’s something he simply can’t help, as if his brain is just wired to make him more liable to do that.

If even minor slights can cause an overreaction like that from an ADHD brain, then imagine how much worse it is when the stimulus is something genuinely worth being upset over. That already-painful emotion gets amplified to even greater levels, to the point that it can be almost unbearable. People with ADHD can often have a more difficult time dealing with things, not necessarily because they’re emotionally weaker, but because they simply feel things harder than most other people do.

Kaito goes through a lot of emotional pain throughout the story – and he’s really pretty bad at dealing with it all. He basically has only two not-very-healthy methods for doing so. One is to try to ignore it entirely by focusing on something more positive, which on its own could be put down to his desire to come across as an invincible hero who can inspire people. So this particular unhealthy tactic doesn’t necessarily mean that he wouldn’t be able to properly deal with these emotions if he actually stopped being an idiot and tried to.

However, Kaito’s second unhealthy coping mechanism is to turn the pain into anger – sometimes to the point of lashing out in ways he doesn’t mean to. Punching Shuichi at the end of the first trial is very much caused by Kaito being unable to contain his pain over Kaede’s death rather than any controlled attempt to push Shuichi forward, since he regrets it and apologises for it the next morning. And then the agonising truth that Gonta killed someone is even harder for Kaito to bear, leading to him lashing out at Shuichi again in what was very much desperate pain-fuelled anger with no rational basis for it. Unlike with simply hiding his pain, lashing out like this is not something Kaito would ever want to do; it’s not exactly very heroic of him, after all. So this suggests that there’s more to Kaito’s bad coping mechanisms than just him trying to appear strong and not worry people – that sometimes the pain gets so unbearably intense that ignoring it isn’t possible and he just can’t deal with it and loses control of himself.

Uncontrollable bouts of rage can be a common problem that comes with ADHD because of the amplified emotions and difficulty properly regulating them – and it’s definitely a problem Kaito suffers from, too. That part of Kaito that lets him get so wonderfully passionate in helping everyone around him might well be exactly the same part of him that simply cannot handle it when he realises Gonta murdered someone and leads to him lashing out at his best friend.

Moping (…not a technical term)

…Okay, I just said Kaito has only two unhealthy coping mechanisms for painful emotions, but maybe there’s also kind of a third: unconstructively moping about it. This doesn’t sound like Kaito at all – he frequently gives others advice about not doing exactly that – but he can actually be seen falling into doing so a couple of times if you look closely.

In chapter 2, when Ryoma’s behaviour bothers him for all the wrong reasons and he has no intent of actually doing something about it, Kaito really should be just trying not to think about it at all and focusing on something more constructive like helping Shuichi. However, the places he hangs out in for his chapter 2 FTEs and his invitation dialogues indicate that he spends a whole three FTE slots just brooding unhelpfully about the state Ryoma’s in. This is definitely not something he wants to be doing, since he hastily changes the subject if Shuichi hangs out with him.

And in case 4’s investigation, after Shuichi’s cell phone experiment makes Kaito feel useless and unneeded (he thought Shuichi needed his help! – but, no, turns out he actually really didn’t), the pain of that feeling noticeably lingers with him for most of the rest of the investigation. He’s in enough of a bad mood about it afterwards that Maki notices it through his less-expressive virtual avatar, and he doesn’t even come with her to call Shuichi back from the rooftop and just logs out on his own in a sulk. Then he also ends up explicitly unaware in the trial of some of the information Monotaro shared with the whole group once they’d logged out, meaning he was apparently still too wrapped up in feeling useless to be paying proper attention.

(And these are the two examples of Kaito doing this that are noticeable thanks to subtle clues in his behaviour – but since Kaito would obviously never draw attention to it, maybe he actually does this a lot more than those two times and we just can’t normally see it.)

See, another thing about emotional dysregulation – plus the difficulty in controlling the focus of your attention that comes with ADHD – is that it can be hard to stop yourself from thinking endlessly about painful things, even when you very much don’t want to be thinking about them. I once saw a tumblr post describing ADHD as Chronic Cannot Leave It Alone Disorder, and I can confirm that, yes, this is very frustratingly accurate, for the bad things as well as the good. It’s possible that Kaito’s advice about not moping when you could be doing something to make a difference might have originated for himself, to try and mitigate his brain’s tendency to do this. But while I imagine this helped quite a bit in letting him control his thoughts and stay focused on the positives, it appears that, despite his best efforts, it still doesn’t always work.

Impulsiveness

The Primarily-Hyperactive subtype of ADHD (aka the one that’s definitely the subtype Kaito has, for obvious reasons) is sometimes called Hyperactive-Impulsive type, because impulsiveness tends to be a big part of it, too. I think this is kind of a combination of emotional hyperarousal and inability to control attention – the impulse to Do A Thing gets amplified to the point that it floods the entire brain, and it becomes nigh-impossible to ignore it and consider the potential negative consequences before acting on it. It’s like that Chronic Cannot Leave It Alone Disorder gets concentrated into a single instant of frequently-terrible decision-making.

It’s no secret that Kaito is impulsively reckless – and if you think about it, it’s to an extent that’s honestly kind of pathological. Cheating his way into the astronaut exam early, for example, could very well have permanently ruined his chances of ever being allowed in and making it to space. He should never have considered that a risk worth taking. So apparently he just wasn’t properly considering the risk at all – not even for the most important decision of his life.

A lot of the time, these kinds of bad decisions can be fuelled by those amplified painful emotions that get turned into anger like I talked about before. The stress of the killing game causes Kaito to very nearly get himself killed on two occasions early in chapter 1, almost lashing out in a way that would have broken school regulations. Kaito is perfectly aware of the consequences for doing that – but in the heat of the moment, it just doesn’t matter to him. His overwhelming desire to express his pain-fuelled rage simply blocks out everything else from his mind. A similar thing happens in chapter 5 when Kaito’s attempt to punch Kokichi after the supposed mastermind reveal only results in him getting knocked out and captured by the Exisals that were very obviously there and under Kokichi’s control. It’s summed up pretty well by the fact that Kokichi outright tells Kaito that punching him won’t fix any of the things he’s angry about, and Kaito’s response is, “Even if that is the case… I can’t get over it if I don’t punch you!” To Kaito, in these moments, it’s never about the consequences; it’s about needing to let out his too-strong emotions right now and to hell with everything else, even if that “everything else” literally might include his life.

Then there’s everything that happens with Kaito at the casino. The consequences for him here aren’t exactly dire, since all he loses out on is the chance to buy a prize, but still – that uncontrollable fixation on the anticipated thrill of winning and the inability to consider the really-very-high possibility that he’ll lose is exactly the type of reckless thrill-seeking that people with this type of ADHD often have.

In fact, the bonus scene at the casino is literally titled “Kaito’s Gambling Problem” – and as you might imagine, impulsive-type ADHDers are at a higher risk of developing harmful addictions to things such as gambling. While this isn’t an actual gambling problem here because no real money is involved and it does seem that he never gets tempted by the casino again after the second time, the scene’s title apparently wants us to consider that Kaito has the potential to develop a legitimate gambling problem should he ever get old enough to legally gamble in the real world. Which is a weirdly specific thing for the writers to make a point of when it has no bearing on the plot… so it makes me wonder if they could have actually been trying to tell us something here.

This kind of impulsiveness can also cause people to blurt out their thoughts without thinking about the consequences, potentially resulting in upsetting someone or embarrassing themselves. At first glance, considering that he has a lot of thoughts he’s determined to hide from the surface, Kaito doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem with this kind of impulsiveness. If he did, you’d think he’d find himself muttering stuff like “I feel like crap”, or “I hate this place” all the time and then having to hastily paper over it and insist that no that’s definitely not how he’s really feeling at all. So apparently, he’s fairly good at thinking before he speaks when it matters to him?

Except, when he’s in the Virtual World, Kaito makes multiple unthinking comments to the effect of “I like this avatar body”, which he has to awkwardly brush off when Shuichi questions him, since it rather hints that something’s up with his real body. He’s suddenly really bad at this, even though he was pretty good at it the rest of the time.

So maybe what’s going on is this: in an effort to stay positive at all times because he’s Kaito, Kaito trained himself to have a constant, unshakeable mental filter that prevents himself from impulsively blurting out how he’s feeling if it’s something negative. However, he can’t stop himself from still randomly blurting out whatever positive things are on his mind. This usually isn’t a problem, but it can sometimes include things – it feels so great to not be dying for once! – that he really doesn’t want to be voicing either, if he only gave it a moment more thought.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria

Often shortened to RSD, rejection sensitive dysphoria is a specific and especially nasty kind of emotional hyperarousal / dysregulation that almost all ADHDers suffer from. (At least, I feel like it should probably be classified as a subtype of that, though I’m not sure if that’s the official take, so don’t quote me on this.) The ADHD researcher who coined the term defines it as: “extreme emotional pain triggered by the perception – not necessarily the reality – that a person has been rejected or criticised by important people in their life. It may also be triggered by a sense of falling short and failing to meet their own high standards or others’ expectations.” That second sentence is important and frequently overlooked, because it indicates that, despite the name, this isn’t only about perceived rejection by others; it can also be about an entirely personal sense of failure.

I first read about this concept while I happened to be hyperfixating on Kaito’s mindset specifically in early chapter 5, aka that time he avoids Shuichi out of shame over feeling like he failed him in the previous trial, due to his own unreasonably high standards for being a “hero”. (If you didn’t realise that this is what’s going on with Kaito in early chapter 5, go read this other post of mine and get caught up, because you’re going to need to be for the rest of this section.) And, naturally, though I was supposed to be reading that article about RSD to help me figure out if I had ADHD, my brain made some connections. That was the moment I began to have this headcanon; everything else in this post blossomed from that as I thought about it more and realised a lot of other things about Kaito also fit this incredibly well.

The null hypothesis

So, let’s consider early chapter 5. In fact, let’s assume for a moment that Kaito doesn’t have ADHD and his emotions function like a regular person’s. He would still, of course, feel like he’s utterly failed Shuichi by showing himself to be weaker than him and doing the opposite of supporting him during trial 4. That part’s not specifically based in anything ADHD and is just a product of Kaito’s psychological issues about heroes, which I’ve already talked about plenty in that post I just linked. (I don’t want anyone to think that my ADHD headcanon is getting in the way of or diminishing any of that; this is just another layer on top of it.)

Kaito really wants to make things right and apologise for his mistakes in the trial (and for his really-not-actually-mistakes too, for that matter). He really wants to fix the rift between him and Shuichi and not leave the two of them painfully torn apart like this. He knows the responsibility to do so is on him and not Shuichi. But… he doesn’t do it. Why not?

The only possible reason would be that he’s just being a coward and running away from the guilt and shame he’s feeling rather than facing up to it. Except… Kaito’s not a coward. He may arguably seem like one in some ways given how he refuses to acknowledge his weaknesses to his sidekicks – but that’s not to protect himself and his own emotions; it’s because he’s idiotically convinced that it’s better for them that way. Here, now that he believes he’s already failed Shuichi as badly as he ever could, he should feel like he has nothing more to lose on that front (and Shuichi never even needed him anyway, right?), so there should be no harm in owning up to it and at least apologising for what he’s done wrong.

Granted, Kaito is busy trying to make up for his failure through his totally-great escape plan – but that’s still no reason why he can’t also apologise first and then keep trying to make up for things with the plan anyway. And it’s not at all like it was in the trial itself, when he was too wound-up in the heat of the moment to be thinking clearly. He’s had plenty of time to process what happened and regain control of himself and become consciously aware of what he knows is the right thing to do here.

The guilt and shame Kaito would be feeling from his belief that he’s failed Shuichi would still hurt pretty bad, sure – but I don’t think, if it really is a proportionate emotional response to what he feels like he’s done, that it’d be something he couldn’t face up to. He’s incredibly resilient and knows that sometimes you’ve just gotta face painful things head-on, and he should be more than willing to do so for the sake of making things at least slightly better between him and Shuichi.

So, I argue this: Kaito avoiding Shuichi the way he does in early chapter 5 doesn’t quite make sense unless he has ADHD. (Or perhaps some other neurological disorder that would have a similar effect on his emotions, but I’m not knowledgeable enough to be sure what other possibilities could fit.)

Too much pain

I can confirm from experience: RSD freaking sucks. Any feeling of “I should be able to do this, but I messed it up”, or any seemingly innocuous comment from someone you care about where they either point out a mistake you made or that could possibly be interpreted to mean they don’t really care about you that much – these things can hurt like hell, so much more than they have any right to. It’s as if that insignificant twinge of disappointment that most people would feel just gets multiplied by like a thousand until it practically feels like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. And I should note: the rejection version tends to be triggered by people important to you, but I find it’s especially bad if it’s someone I not only care about but also look up to. You know, like Kaito very definitely does to Shuichi.

Case 4 has plenty of things that would trigger RSD for Kaito before even getting into the worst parts of the trial. That cell phone incident in the investigation I mentioned earlier, where Kaito thought Shuichi needed his help for a second and then ended up feeling like he really never did at all? And all the times Shuichi shoots down one of Kaito’s arguments in the trial and tells him he’s wrong (which happens seven times, by the way)? Every single one of those seemingly-minor moments would have hurt Kaito not just a little, but one hell of a lot. It’s honestly really impressive and a testament to Kaito’s resilience that he managed to keep himself together and show barely any signs of how he was feeling for as long as he did.

It’s also very relevant that RSD is known to potentially trigger an externalised response of instantaneous rage, exactly like the outbursts of anger I mentioned in the previous section. I’ve already talked plenty elsewhere about how a lot of the pain that’s causing Kaito to lash out in trial 4 isn’t just over Gonta’s guilt but is also over how he’s being made to feel like a horribly inferior failure compared to Shuichi – and, yep, that’s still a perfect match to Kaito having ADHD.

By the end of the trial, Kaito’s issues and irrationalities have rendered him convinced that he’s utterly failed to be the hero he’s supposed to be, and that Shuichi obviously doesn’t need him or care about him any more (if he ever even did in the first place). That’s giving Kaito plenty of genuine conscious reason to be hurting pretty damn hard to begin with, before his ADHD brain-wiring even sinks its claws into it. Now try to imagine that pain getting disproportionately multiplied by like a thousand – fucking ouch, and then some. Nobody, not even someone as brave and resilient as Kaito, should ever be expected to be able to face up to that, to actively make it even worse by talking about it and bringing those feelings to the forefront, especially not when doing so would just be showing even more weakness to the person it hurts so much to show weakness to. I don’t believe it’d be fair to call anyone a coward for that.

Kaito’s not a coward; he avoids Shuichi in early chapter 5 because he is genuinely in too much pain to bear. The only way he can deal with it at all (now that he’s not in the heat of trial 4 and is very determined to at least not make things even worse by lashing out in anger again) is by simply trying to pretend the problem doesn��t exist. If he manages to prove himself as a hero, maybe it’ll stop hurting quite as much and he’ll be able to face up to it, but until then, avoiding the pain is all he can do.

(Obligatory Harmonious Heart mention)

Since I relish the opportunity to bring this scene up whenever I can, I might as well add that Kaito’s Harmonious Heart event is another instance in which he’d be feeling some pretty rough RSD – at least, in every outcome except the best one in which Shuichi reassures him that they’re friends and it’s okay to open up to your friend. It’d be especially bad in the worst outcome where Kaito realises Shuichi has seen his “weakness” and feels like he’s failed him. Probably not quite as bad as in canon, but still, ouch.

In fact, an interesting thing about that worst outcome is that Kaito specifically says he feels “so embarrassed”, which, when you think about it, doesn’t really sound like the kind of thing anyone would expect Kaito to ever describe himself as feeling, even at a time like this. However, I know from my own experience that “embarrassment” is in fact something that it’s easy to mistake RSD for when you don’t know what it is – just an embarrassment that’s somehow agonisingly painful, because that’s totally how embarrassment usually works for most people, right. So, A, this fits perfectly yet again, and B, since you’d usually not think to have Kaito ever use that word… it makes me wonder if the writer for this scene knew.

Coping methods (and why Kaito doesn’t have them)

Of course, it’s not like there aren’t methods to try to combat and mitigate the incredible pain that RSD can bring. One that I’ve found works really well (thanks to Kaito himself!) is exercising. It really helps to burn off that excessive emotional energy – and not necessarily just RSD, but any of the disproportionately painful emotions ADHD brings – by translating it into physical energy. “Let your sweat wash away all your sadness, fear, worry and hardships; just start moving your body and your pain will become memories before you know it,” actually sums up how this feels pretty well! It’s quite possible that this advice – heck, maybe his entire exercise-to-help-the-mind thing in general – is something else that Kaito first came up with for himself, after he found that it helped him calm down and feel better whenever he’d get too upset about something.

…So it’s really rather cruel that Kaito’s worsening illness also happens to lock him out of one of his only genuinely-healthy coping mechanisms for what he’s going through emotionally in chapters 4 and 5, isn’t it.

Another thing that’s really helped me in dealing with my own RSD is simply understanding it. When you know that it’s a disproportionate emotional response, you can remind yourself that things aren’t truly as bad as the pain is making them feel like they are, which makes it easier to take steps to stop it hurting, such as talking to the friend who unintentionally triggered it and having them reassure you that of course they care about you. Without that understanding of it, it’s all too easy to think, “if it hurts this much, I must deserve to be hurting this much,” which, yeah, that’s a bad path to go down.

One pretty important part of my headcanon that Kaito has ADHD, then, is that he definitely has no idea he has it. If he’d been diagnosed with it at some point in his life, he’d understand these problems of his better. Even if the doctors never told him all these things I’ve been mentioning here about how ADHD actually works (which is way too disappointingly common, so I gather), Kaito would have researched this stuff himself at some point, in order to better understand himself and know his limits so that he can work around them to be the best person he can be. He wouldn’t want to let anything get in the way of him helping others as much as he can and achieving his dream of going to space, not even the idiosyncrasies of his own brain. And, heck, he’d probably find it interesting if only he had a reason to look into it in the first place! Many ADHDers hyperfixate on ADHD, and Kaito definitely seems like someone who would have if he’d known.

So, if Kaito was aware of his ADHD, he’d be able to recognise what he’s going through in early chapter 5 as RSD and handle it better. He’d know that, no matter how much it hurts, things aren’t actually quite as bad as it feels like, and that apologising to Shuichi sooner rather than later is almost certainly the best way forward even if the prospect of doing so seems terrifying as all hell. For that matter, if Kaito knew about his ADHD and what it really involved, he’d almost certainly have trained himself to be able to deal with a lot of his more troublesome symptoms better than he ever does in canon.

Friendship difficulties

Because of their differently-wired brains, ADHDers can often struggle to connect with the rest of the world that doesn’t think the same way as them. And here’s a fun subtle thing about Kaito that ought to get talked about more: he’s not actually very skilled or experienced at making friends. Having sidekicks that he can inspire and support, and being a general encouraging influence on a wider group of people to keep them working together – sure, that stuff comes naturally to him. But regular, everyday friendship? Not so much.

This isn’t that easy to spot, because most of the time we see Kaito, he’s deliberately focusing on motivating people, which he’s great at. But there are a few instances here and there where Kaito interacts with people in a not-specifically-motivational way: his attempts to befriend Kaede (who doesn’t need his support), his earlier FTEs with Shuichi (which should be happening before training starts), and the conversation with Shuichi and Maki in chapter 4’s second training scene (before Maki begins talking about her past).

In all of these, Kaito turns out to actually be a huge awkward goof who doesn’t seem to have the first clue how to do regular interpersonal interactions. And basically everything about him being this way can potentially be explained by ADHD.

Too many thoughts

It’s never quiet and organised in an ADHD brain; whenever we’re not hyperfocusing on one specific thing, our minds always have like five different thoughts rattling around in them at once. So, consider the conversation with Shuichi and Maki, which Kaito was attempting to treat like a Regular Conversation (rather than the chance to help Maki open up that it definitely actually was in his head). Perhaps, in his efforts to do small talk, not one but several different possible small talk questions popped into his head at once and clamoured for his attention, such that a couple of them – “what blood type are you?” and “what [something] do you like?” – got accidentally merged together when he opened his mouth to speak. That plus his impulsive lack-of-filter meant that out came “What blood type do you like?” and Kaito sounding like a doofus.

(When Maki points out that this is a strange question, Kaito awkwardly laughs it off. It almost seems like he’s used to accidentally saying things people consider weird during his attempts at normal conversation and has learned to try and act like it’s nothing so he doesn’t push anyone away.)

This disorganisation in ADHD minds also tends to make them get too caught up on unnecessary details they find interesting and wander off down random mental tangents rather than whatever they’re supposed to be talking or thinking about. I once saw a tumblr post that said ADHDers are likely to tell “stories that start sooner than they need to and end somewhere other than the point” – and this happens to be a literally perfect description of the story Kaito tells Shuichi in his second and third FTEs. He was supposed to be telling Shuichi how he became interested in space. He began by talking about finding a treasure map and conquering the seas, and he finished with how he was busy conquering the land when his summer vacation ended. At no point did he mention space; he’d got so wrapped up in the story itself that he’d completely forgotten that was meant to be the point.

Kaito also has a bit of a tendency to make strange statements that appear to make perfect sense to him even though they kind of don’t to anybody else. He wants to learn to play the piano for when he goes to space? Well, of course; he might meet an alien! You can’t ever know how malicious other people’s secrets are? Sure, but that’s why you just gotta believe in… yourself! These really do make perfect sense in Kaito’s head (the first is about communication; the second is about people-reading skills). But it seems, perhaps, that his overly-active mind made connections too fast and jumped several tracks at once, to the point that he didn’t realise he was skipping a few steps of his explanation and that it wouldn’t make so much sense to the people listening. Which is also a thing that ADHD people are liable to do.

Too loud and excitable

A less immediately obvious thing that’s strange about Kaito’s behaviour in the chapter 4 training chat is that, when Shuichi essentially just straight-up asks Maki to start talking about her issues, Kaito admonishes him for being too direct and claims he can’t just do that. This seems odd coming from Kaito, who’s usually nothing but direct in his approaches to encouraging people, and who definitely also intended to prompt Maki into talking about her issues here.

But, apparently because he’s trying to present this as a Regular Normal Friend Conversation, Kaito didn’t think he was meant to be so direct in this context. Which suggests he’s learned through experience that his usual kind of directness that works great for encouragement apparently just kind of puts people off when it’s used in a regular conversation. So instead, he was trying to work his way towards hopefully maybe getting Maki to open up through awkward small talk that he must know he’s terrible at – no wonder he was miffed when Shuichi casually went and committed the exact social “faux-pas” he’d been trying to avoid, with complete confidence that it’d actually be fine, and it turned out it was. (Whoops, there goes Shuichi effortlessly being better than him at everything Kaito finds difficult, like always.)

Nonetheless, Kaito probably has good reason to be worried about coming across as too direct (outside of sidekick contexts, where that’s just the best way to get through to someone and help). Because, when he’s not actively trying to avoid it, he does have a tendency to get a bit carried away with things and put people off as a result. Remember the time he asked Kaede for a hug? There’s absolutely no reason to assume this was romantic or sexual in nature, because it already makes more than enough sense to think that Kaito was just so excited at meeting someone so similar to him and thought she was Super Cool and just really wanted to be her friend!!! So he impulsively expressed that sentiment in a rather-too-forward way that he was too caught up in his excitement to realise was going to come across as rather inappropriate.

Not that being too overly excitable and direct about things necessarily has to lead to behaviour that’s outright inappropriate in order to cause problems. (Though please never forget that Kaito asked for the hug and respected Kaede’s boundaries when she said no.) Even if he’s not doing anything wrong, Kaito being his usual larger-than-life self all the time might just come across as a bit Much and be kind of weird and off-putting for a lot of people. It’s that emotional hyperarousal again, which I mostly talked about the negative side of in the earlier section – but the positive side of it, amplifying the good emotions to make someone more enthusiastic and passionate, can still (completely undeservedly) be a negative thing in a social context with others who just aren’t wired the same way.

In Kaito’s second FTE, wrapped up among his ridiculous overblown childish fiction, he appears to potentially be talking about an actual playmate he had at the time who joined in his game of pretending to be a sea captain. Then they had a fight and Kaito never saw him again – and he presents that like it was just part of his game, too, but this can likely be taken to mean that they had a falling out that never got resolved and stopped being friends. If so, I can’t help but assume that this was probably because tiny Kaito was a little bit too boisterous and excessive in his playing – while still not necessarily doing anything wrong – that it overwhelmed this other kid to the point that he didn’t really want to join in any more.

There’s also one bit of FTE invitation dialogue where Kaito claims he’s about to teach Kaede how to have peace of mind… and then he tells stories that make her question his definition of that. Which makes a lot of sense considering that ADHD minds, particularly hyperactive-type ones, are never relaxed for even a moment. Kaito doesn’t know how not to be energetic and over-the-top even when the people he’s with just want to wind down and relax, which also wouldn’t really do him any favours in terms of making friends.

But none of that is Kaito’s fault; he’s not trying to be selfish or drive these people away. It’s simply the way his mind is, always going full-throttle when most other people’s usually aren’t. He just gets so excited about so many things and has a hard time toning that down. Besides, why would Kaito even want to tone it down and be boringly down-to-earth when his mind could be up in space instead!? That’s much better! …except that most other people don’t see it that way.

Too much infodumping

In the training chat, after embarrassing himself with a bungled small talk question and being shown up by Shuichi making it look like it’s actually somehow not a problem to be too direct after all, Kaito attempts to bring things back around to small talk with the, uh, “safe” option of asking Maki what her favourite spaceship is. Which isn’t really small talk at all, of course – but then, actual small talk is hard for ADHD people, because it’s not interesting enough to care about paying proper attention to. They’d much rather be acting on that constant desire to talk about something they’re interested in, such as one of their hyperfixations, which is not always the best way to connect with others who don’t happen to be interested in the same thing.

(Fortunately, since another of his hyperfixations is Maki and her issues, Kaito is perfectly happy to listen once she starts talking about her past, and the conversation shifts back to a comfortable hero-and-sidekick situation again rather than an awkward and confusing how-do-I-friends???)

There’s another of those FTE invitation dialogues in chapter 1 where Kaito tells Kaede he’s a good listener… and then apparently Kaede spends the entire time listening to him instead. Except, obviously Kaito really is a good listener when it’s in his hero-and-sidekick context and he’s helping someone with their problems, because he’s invested in supporting them and so it’d be easy for him to pay attention. But perhaps, when it’s in a regular friendship context and the person he’s talking to doesn’t need his help (like Kaede doesn’t), Kaito’s not quite so good at listening because he’s not necessarily as interested in what they have to say. So he might be liable to just impulsively act on the desire to talk about the things he wants to (such as SPACE; there is always time for space) and then get so focused on it that he overlooks the other person’s feelings and genuinely doesn’t realise he’s coming across as kind of brash and self-absorbed.

Kaito’s second and third FTEs with Shuichi are an even better illustration of this. Upon Shuichi choosing to hang out with him for a second time, Kaito apparently realises Shuichi is interested enough in him to possibly want to be his friend. So he responds to this by… launching into a huge ridiculous story about his (completely make-believe) heroic adventures as a kid. This kind of one-sided conversation and bizarre topic choice is not, in fact, a great way to make friends with someone, but Kaito doesn’t seem to realise this. He finds his story so cool and exciting that he impulsively assumes Shuichi would too and jumps into it without actually confirming whether Shuichi wants to hear it or not. And, honestly, it seems like Shuichi doesn’t, at least not particularly, and is only listening out of politeness and an inability to get a word in edgeways. His less-than-enthusiastic response to Kaito’s story suggests that these FTEs are canonically meant to happen before training begins and Shuichi comes to properly consider Kaito a friend – and therefore that Kaito’s not really doing the best job here of making Shuichi begin to consider him a friend.

Still himself despite it all!

All of these potentially-ADHD-fuelled idiosyncrasies of Kaito’s make it a lot harder for him to make friends in the normal way – and he seems to be somewhat aware of this. Some of the things from the chapter 4 chat hint that he’s slightly insecure and afraid he’s going to put Shuichi and Maki off by being so dorkily himself. There’s also a little more of this in the Salmon Team bonus mode, in which friendship is the entire point, and yet a few lines when he’s inviting Shuichi to hang out hint that Kaito isn’t completely convinced that Shuichi would want to hang out with him as a friend rather than as a sidekick who needs his advice and support. If he was more used to having friends, he probably wouldn’t still be so insecure about this – so this honestly kind of suggests that Shuichi and Maki could be the first real friends Kaito’s ever managed to make.

Because of these kinds of issues in connecting with people, a lot of ADHD kids grow up unconsciously learning to suppress their true selves, hiding their boundless enthusiasm and unusual interests to seem more “normal” so that they can fit in. I know this because I was one such kid, and I’m still struggling to unlearn this as an adult. So I have huge admiration for Kaito having managed to not do this, refusing to let anything stop him from being himself at all times. His convictions about staying true to himself are even more impressive when you realise that he would have felt so pressured to break them and pretend to be someone he’s not in order to more easily make friends.

As strong-willed as Kaito is, I doubt he’d have been able to do this as a kid without help. His parents and grandparents must have been really, really good in validating his passion and energy and never making him feel ashamed for being the way he is, assuring him that if other kids can’t see how great he is then that’s their problem and not because he’s doing anything wrong. He wants to go to space more than anything else in the world? Awesome; he should chase that dream with everything he has and not care how ridiculous and childish and impossible everyone else seems to think it is! Not all parents would do that.

After all, there are a lot of occasions in which Kaito does just brazenly present his larger-than-life self to someone in a clumsily overbearing attempt to make friends, without showing even the subtlest sign of being worried it might put them off. For that matter, Kaito is generally very willing to just throw himself into things he’s unfamiliar with and possibly end up failing spectacularly and making a fool of himself – something that’s likely to be pretty painful for him, given how RSD is. While some of this is probably down to his impulsiveness and not even considering that he might fail, I’m sure sometimes he’s got to be aware of it, and if so, that’s some impressive resilience and determination. People with ADHD can become unconsciously inclined to never try at anything out of a fear of that painful failure, but of course Kaito would refuse to let that happen to him – which is really quite admirable.

Interestingly, all of the times Kaito is subtly insecure about his social skills – the chapter 4 scene, the Salmon Team bits, and maybe that time with the former friend in his FTE if you assume that him wrapping it up in a fiction means he’s still uncomfortable about what happened – involve someone he’s already friends with. After all, it’s probably easier for him to fearlessly dive in with someone new, because it’s less of a blow if he messes up in that context – not everyone’s going to click with him and that’s just how things go. But once Kaito’s already built a strong connection with someone, he becomes more afraid of messing up, because being rejected by someone important to him would be agonising. You might think that he ought to feel more comfortable around people he’s already friends with because he should trust them and know they’re not going anywhere no matter how much of a dork he is – but when RSD is a factor, it makes perfect sense for it to be the opposite.

Sidekicks can be friends, too!

Perhaps part of why Kaito is able to remain so confident in himself most of the time is because he nonetheless hasn’t grown up alone and lacking meaningful connections to other people. Despite his difficulty in making regular friends, he’s compensated for this by having sidekicks, which are a very different matter that his eccentricities conversely make him very good with. Being enthusiastic and energetic and over-the-top like Kaito can never not be is helpful when he’s being an inspiring hero, not weird or off-putting at all!

Still, while Kaito has a far easier time forging that initial connection with someone through the sidekick approach rather than the friend approach, that doesn’t make him worse at actually being someone’s friend (and not just their “hero”) once he’s got his foot in the door. If Kaito had told the story from his FTEs to Shuichi after they’d started training and properly bonded, Shuichi’s reaction would have been completely different: still probably exasperated, but in an affectionate kind of way, because he knows that’s just part of what makes Kaito who he is, and it’s actually pretty fun to be around. He has a lot of this sort of response to Kaito once they’re friends, and it’s adorable. It’s the same in the chapter 4 training chat – neither Maki nor Shuichi are at all put off by Kaito’s awkwardness, partly because they’re not exactly great at social skills themselves, but also because they know how much Kaito cares about them, and no amount of arbitrary social missteps could ever change that.

When someone becomes Kaito’s sidekick, meaning they’ve accepted his support and understand how much he wants to help them, they can see everything else about him that they might have found weird before in a new light. They learn that his eccentric behaviour isn’t him being deliberately rude or self-absorbed at all. It’s just genuinely how he is, and it’s part of how he can support them so well like he does, but that’s not all it’s good for. They come to appreciate Kaito not just for his incredible supportiveness, but for everything else about him, too. He’s not just their hero, but also their friend.

However… Kaito apparently can’t see that. Since he’s never been that good at forming regular friendships with people who don’t explicitly need him, he’s all too liable to assume that the people who do need him are only sticking around because of that, and no other reason. That co-dependency of Kaito’s I mentioned earlier, aka his rather unhealthy need to be needed? While the stressful context of the killing game definitely made it way worse throughout the story, it seems it was already slightly a thing in the first place – and if so, Kaito having ADHD could very well be the root cause.

Kaito is Good

Being realistic about how sadly uncommon well-represented neurodivergency is in fiction (and how misunderstood ADHD tends to be), I don’t know if I should try to assert that Kaito being ADHD was definitely the writers’ intent. However, almost every major facet of his character and personality fits with it so damn well that I want to think it’s at least possible that someone on the writing team could have had it in mind. Especially with the couple of bits I mentioned that seem like they could have been deliberately included by someone who Knows.

Still, even if it wasn’t intended, it’s amazing how good of a fit this is. Maybe it’s just that, in creating a character as intensely passionate as Kaito, the writers naturally wrote into him all the downsides of being that way as well, without even realising they were near-perfectly modelling the highs and lows of ADHD. After all, the human mind’s ability to simulate other human minds even when they’re not real is freaking magical. Kaito is such an incredibly well-written character with so much thought put into him whether or not he was meant to be as extremely ADHD-coded as he is.

I’ve always believed that Kaito is a fantastic example of how the best way to write realistic and interesting flaws into a character is to have them organically draw from traits that, in other situations, can be that character’s greatest strengths. And in my opinion, this is also kind of true about ADHD. When I figured out I had it and what it really meant, it was hugely validating for me, because I learned that almost everything I’d been struggling with was basically just the logically-inevitable downside of some of the things I’d always liked about myself, such as my ability to get so ridiculously analytical about stories I love like this. I wouldn’t trade those parts of myself away for anything – and I can’t imagine Kaito would, either.

I’ve seen a few posts and articles focusing on the bright side of having ADHD by listing some of the positive traits ADHDers often have because of it, and, delightfully, so many of them – fun to be around! compassionate! persistent! to name just a few – are things that Kaito has in spades. So, well, if ADHD can look so much like Kaito… then surely it can’t be all bad.

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(P.S.: High-five to anyone who headcanons Kaito as autistic! There’s a lot of overlap between that and ADHD. Many of the symptoms I’ve talked about here can also be symptoms of autism, and even with the non-overlapping bits, a lot of Kaito’s idiosyncrasies that I linked to ADHD could be interpreted slightly differently to link them to autism instead. I believe ADHD fits him somewhat better than autism does, but then I’m more knowledgeable about ADHD so my data is skewed, plus I’m pretty obviously biased since I’m personally invested in the idea of Kaito being like me. Taking a step back from my more specific headcanon here, though, there’s still every reason to assume that Kaito is at least some flavour of neurodivergent, and I think that’s pretty awesome.)

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #character analysis #kaito's hero issues #ramble #adhd #adhd headcanons #creating that tag because i can already tell kaito won't be the only adhd headcanon i make #oh my god this ended up *longer* than the hero ramble how did this happen #and yes i will link to the hero ramble in every single other kaito ramble because it is always important #i also talked about myself in this more than i ever usually do on here so uh #personal?

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shoujorose · 4 years

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There’s something that’s been on my mind for a long time, and a disproportionate amount recently. I want to talk about it openly, but Twitter is just too Open, there’s too many people (and it’s bad for this stuff anyway)...but Tumblr is smaller and cozier so. Here I am I guess.

For some time now, I’ve been thinking I’m probably nonbinary, and for some reason recently hiding that fact has been...idk. It feels kind of stifling and isolating. But I’m afraid to really be open about it, because it’s...hard to explain.

I’m very happy with things like my name and pronouns — actually, in regards to the latter...I don’t even like they/them pronouns for myself. I don’t mind if people use it occasionally, but it feels terrible when people only use those. And I still prefer to be called with masculine words. It’s not that I’m not a man, it’s more so...if you had to put a label on it, bigender would probably be the closest one.

A friend of mine expressed a similar sentiment to me a little while ago, and maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about it. They put it in words I always struggled to — they identify both with being a man and with being a woman, and they don’t always necessarily consider themselves their apparent gender. But they don’t talk about it because they like their name and pronouns, so it might just seem confusing. And that’s pretty much the boat I’m in I guess.

I wish I could understand why it’s bothering me so much...like, whatever my gender is kind of doesn’t matter. All you need is my name and pronouns, really. So why is it gnawing at me?

Maybe it’s because...in spite of my best efforts not to shove myself into another box, it sort of feels like I have. I’m not...like other men. I’m certainly not like cis men, and I’m not like a lot of trans men either. I know people don’t like this kind of terminology now, and I understand why — but the whole “man in a woman’s body” thing, I feel like that describes me pretty well. And that fact, that along with my upbringing...many people can shed it somewhat easily. I can’t. And it’s...well, it’s hard to explain. It goes beyond my stupid girly interests, although that doesn’t help — it’s like...I have a tie to femininity that I just can’t break. But I’ve always felt there’s something inherently masculine within me. It’s like I’m at the edge of two worlds.

But overtly claiming that feminine side...I guess it feels a bit scary because I wonder if people would use it to degrade my masculine side, which is what I truly identify with. The feminine aspect...it’s just what society’s hoisted upon me — but I don’t hate it. Hell, for a long time, I very badly wanted to be a woman...me being trans was never about hating being a woman. It’s that I’m simply not one, and pretending I was felt terrible after a point. I guess now, pretending I’m a Pure Man (?) is starting to feel similarly.

...although, at the same time, maybe that’s just stupid. Am I really doing that? I feel like I’m a failure at that too. I mean, I use a bunch of pictures of girls as my icons, I go around in dresses, I’m even thinking of bobbing my hair again, even though the last time it happened (accidentally) it left me in a wreck... I’m not really presenting “like a man.” And funnily enough, I worry about that too, like I’m just...lying to everyone. And maybe that’s the thing? I’m not sure I really have...anything of what society considers of a man, both in ways I don’t care about, and ways that truly hurt me inside. But I’m not a woman. And no, I don’t think it’s because gender roles and shit cause...why would I still align so much with what’s considered proper for a woman? And even before I was really that cognizantly aware of sexism, I had some similar feelings, so...

I think there’s just...a lot of insecurity. Everything’s so rigid, and...I don’t even know if I fit the bare basics. I waffle on whether I even want T or not...sometimes it sounds nice, but also I’ve become somewhat fond of what I’ve been given. I straight up really like my singing voice and am not sure I really want to change it. I just want to exist as myself, comfortably, and mix and match as I please and not have these worrisome thoughts. Maybe that’s why I keep having this urge to be more open about this stuff, because it feels even more like telling the world to piss off. Although in reality, that’s not how it works. To most of society, you’re a “boy” or a “girl”...and I feel more like a boy. But I’m in a girl suit and am actually okay with that, when it doesn’t feel like it’s conflicting with the “boy” part. Idk, I’m sorry for rambling so much, if anybody’s somehow gotten this far...

...and as an aside, I’m so fucking annoyed. I made (?) an OC who’s very similar not super long ago, and right then I fucking KNEW it. I was thinking, “oh he’s more nonbinary than me though ahaha,” but in the back of my brain I had a feeling this was something I’ve been repressing manifesting because this shit ALWAAAAYS happens. It happened when I thought I was gay, and then when I realized I was trans, and then when I started accepting (again...) that I’m bi...ugh! This shit always manifests in my work before I’m able to wrap my head around it myself. But, it’s easier for him at least...he has more “preferences” than me, who is pretty adamant about things like pronouns. I wish I didn’t care cause that’d make it easier. Although maybe I’m just making problems for myself...idk.

but yeah that’s my massive bitchy rambling, and thanks if you somehow made it this far. If you have any advice, feel free to share it cause I’m just...idk. This is all increasingly bothering me but I’m not sure what to do...although I might just not hide it much longer. I don’t even know why it feels like such a big deal, I doubt anyone would care that much...sigh. It’s dumb.

#rambling #cw dysphoria #sorry for the thousand words of nonsense #I'm just...blegh

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

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Two steps back: chapter two

**NEW SERIES (2/9 parts)** Part one is here.

Series summary: this series spans decades in Poe and readers’ lives, with snapshots of moments based around the following themes.

Four times Poe said he’d stay with you.

Four times he tried to leave you behind.

One time you made it work.

Chapter Summary: (LEAVE:ONE) Poe is finally realising his dream to leave Yavin-4 for the stars, which inevitably means he must leave you behind.

GIF by @freetobegrace

Author’s note: I cried while writing a certain bit of this and I’ve never done that before. But I think I’m probably just hormonal, LOL.

Word count: 1.4k

You knew Poe before he ever flew, but his feet had always been off the ground. His eyes always on the sky. Still, as you grew, you began to wish -perhaps selfishly- that Poe looked a little less at the sky and a little more at you. But, as your Mama had always said, you can’t see what’s right in front of you when you’re always looking up.

You had seemed to grow alongside Poe like the vines on trees in the jungle. You grew tall together, becoming more deeply entwined as the years passed by. However, if you weren’t separated now -if you tried to hold him in place- you knew you would choke him. He needed to be free to touch the sky above the canopy, free of anything which might hold him down. You had always known that eventually he would leave you grounded. Poe Dameron was his mother’s son, after all. He needed to grow beyond the tallest canopy of Yavin-4. He needed to grow beyond you.

You shuffled over to him on the landing bay, the transporter loading up behind him to take the newest batch of recruits to the New Republic Starfleet. He had looked a little lost in the crowd until you had come along. Poe was old enough to be described as a man now, but his fresh, boyish face still told of much that he had to learn. Checking his hot-headedness would be top of that list when he reached the academy, you had no doubt. You hoped dearly that they didn’t drill it out of him entirely.

“Who talks first? Shall I talk first?” you punctured the awkward air between you with humour, having had plenty of practice deflecting from the heavy kinds of emotions throughout the turmoil of your teenage years.

“They’re almos’ ready. I gotta go.” he said in a boyish drawl. He said it casually, like he didn’t yet know the implications of it, didn’t know everything it might mean to uproot himself and leave his home soil behind. At the same time, the determination in his eyes was beyond his years and had always been there; you knew he did this not on a whim, but from a deep-seated sense of purpose. This was his path. To your regret, it was not yours.

“So go. Go away, Poe. I’m not asking you to stay.” You had acted non-chalant, despite the fact you’d woken up at dawn to see him off. You knew fine well that asking him to stay would be futile, in any case.

Still, he lingered in front of you a little longer, shuffling from foot to foot, his New Republic-issue uniform too fresh, too crisp still. Still looking as if it belonged to someone else, and not to the boy you’d always known and always loved. He was changing; becoming, in so many ways. Increasingly, when he looked at you, you felt pleasantly destabilised. He was still growing into his own handsomeness, but he was beginning to be very much aware of it and how to use it to his advantage. Whilst you tried to smooth over any hint that his endlessly familiar brown eyes might have been giving you these somewhat unfamiliar feelings, Poe had gotten a rare, misty look in his eyes. Maybe with the stars ahead of him he was finally looking at you. Finally seeing you for what you meant to him. Home. But home isn’t always something to remember fondly. There had been tough times here, for both of you. Especially after Poe’s mother, Shara, had died. For a long time after, things had been rough. So maybe that’s why he got that look. Because he couldn’t wait to leave all this behind.

You had punched him playfully on the shoulder, masking your sadness. A trick your Mama learned for you when you were small and you had picked up from her in turn as you grew. “What am I going to do around here without you, huh?”

“Probably fall out of trees and get eaten by stintarils.” Poe grinned without pretense and that’s what made you tug him by his lapels into a crushing hug. You had pawed at his back, his curls, pressing him against you. Choking him with your need to keep him by your side. You knew, though, that you had to let him go.

You released him and fondly smoothed his flight suit, resting your hands on his shoulders. You desperately wanted to say something profound. Something meaningful. But he was always the one who found the language to tell you how much he cared about you. On the other hand, he was the one leaving, so you guessed that sometimes actions did speak louder than words. Personally, you’d always been much better at deflecting, at telling him to just get the kriff on with going away. You’d learned to expect it. Not that you could quite accept it, just yet. “Go on. Scram, Poe Dameron.” You had forced a soft smile.

At that, Poe had leaned in to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips, his hand coming to tenderly grip the back of your neck. You looked at him in surprise as he pulled back from you, looking both a little bashful and a little pleased with himself. He bit his lip and then his mouth moved as if he was about to speak. Your palm had quickly clamped down over his mouth. “Don’t. Don’t ruin it by speaking.” You released your hand from him. “Let’s just leave it at that kiss.”

He pressed his lips together in acquiesence, his eyes soft as he took one long look at you. And then he turned, making his way up the ramp and into the transporter without looking back. His eyes were fixed ahead of him, on the stars, after all. On his future. And you were now consigned now to his past.

You didn’t stay to watch the sky finally take him from you, finally swallowing him. How could you? This is what you’d always been afraid of. Instead, you ran home and you cried and cried in your mother’s arms, your heart broken in the way only a best friend and a first love could break it. She had tried her best to reassure you that Poe would always find a way back to you, but this time, you just couldn’t allow yourself to believe it.

It was only when you felt entirely drained of tears that you could bring yourself to visit your tree again. You stood beneath it for a moment, looking up at the tree with something resembling blame, although you knew that was nonsense. You couldn’t even bring yourself to touch it, not at first. But then, you wrapped your hands around its thick limbs as you climbed skyward, somehow comforted by the physical reminder of all the times you visited this spot together. You perched, alone, on your and Poe’s usual branch, staring solemnly at the empty spot by your side. There was no familiar rush of A-Wings overhead either. Today, even the sky was empty, as if in tribute.

Throwing a koyo fruit to the woolamanders, you crept back from the overhanging branch to settle into the pit of the tree, a roomy, sheltered hollow formed where the branches converged. You curled yourself in this comfortable spot and dwelled on how quiet the jungle was without Poe’s incessant chattering. How much things had changed for you in only a few days.

In fact, mere days ago, before he shipped out, this was the spot where you and Poe had tangled limbs like vines and found a new way to love each other. He had kissed you and lay you back and found his own way to show you the stars. He had traced gentle kisses on your body like he was mapping a constellation he never wanted to forget. Of course, figuring out this new, physical language had been awkward, punctuated by laughter, yet somehow it had also been perfect. He was even better at touch than he was with words. You just wish it hadn’t turned out to be the perfect way to say goodbye.

It’s at that point that the sense of finality hit you. Suddenly, you’d felt like you’d never see Poe again. Not if you waited there on Yavin-4 for him to come back. It’s at that point you determined you needed to start building a future for yourself. Needed to let your vines track out over the jungle floor until you found a place to flourish again. You needed to find a new path. No, you realised then; Poe Dameron was not coming back to you. But maybe if you could find your own way forward, perhaps one day your respective paths would cross again. That was just enough to cling on to, in that moment.

Besides, you couldn’t just stay there and get eaten by stintarils. Maker forbid you proved Poe Dameron right about anything. If you ever met again, you resolved, you would show him just how you made it without him. Although, not entirely without him. You had shared beginnings, after all. No matter how far your branches diverged from here on out, there would always be that inalienable part of you which was tied to Poe Dameron. You had grown together, intertwined, and he had rooted himself forever in your heart.

TO BE CONTINUED

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron fic #poe dameron #star wars fic #star wars x reader #sw #poe x reader #poe dameron reader insert #star wars reader insert

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musikfurfreiheit · 4 years

Text

What Could Be

What if Eivor had taken Randvi hunting instead of going for a ride through the fields?

(Female) Eivor x Randvi

Read on AO3

“It is becoming increasingly difficult to look across the alliance table at Eivor and not think of what could be. I tell myself it is only Sigurd’s absence, but the lie grows thinner, weaker by the day.”

Eivor let her eyes wander over the words scribbled on the paper once more. This was definitely Randvi’s handwriting, the same she’d seen scattered all over the map behind her. These were Randvi’s words, and they worried her.

The warrior placed the note in the same spot she had found it before turning around. The sight in front of her was a familiar one. Randvi leaned over the alliance map, her eyes focused on the little notes all across it. Eivor then realized the woman hadn’t even looked up when she entered the office a few minutes earlier. Something was wrong.

‘Randvi, are you well?’ She carefully asked. ‘You seem distant.’

‘I am fine. Only a little tired, but well enough. Shall we look at the map?’

Randvi was still focused on the map, not once looking up at the other woman in the office. Eivor stepped closer, placing her hand on the redhead’s shoulder in a silent plea.

‘Not until you tell me what is wrong.’

Nothing seemed to change. Randvi’s eyes were locked on the map, Eivor looking at her with worry. Eventually Randvi gave in, sighing as she finally looked up at Eivor.

‘Oh, I think I have… I feel somewhat trapped. In this room, in this settlement, in this life.’

Eivor smiled. The “what could be” part of the note she had found made sense now. She had seen that Randvi was more than a mere table-maiden. The blood of a warrior ran through her veins and she probably felt its fire burn every time she looked at Eivor. At everything she could be.

‘I cannot help you with your life, just now. But I can get you out of this room. What do you say?’

‘I don’t know, there is much work to be done.’

Randvi’s eyes travelled back to the alliance map. She was right, Eivor was aware of that. There always was work to be done in a growing settlement, but that did not mean she would take No for an answer. Randvi deserved a break more than any other.

‘Stop. Forget about alliances and responsibility for just a few hours.’ Eivor said, pulling Randvi’s attention back to her. ‘Let me take you for a hunt.’

‘A hunt? Right now?’

‘Right now.’ Eivor smiled. ‘Unless you have forgotten how to handle a bow.’

‘I like to think I have not.’

‘Well then, let’s hunt.’

Eivor’s smile grew. The thought of seeing Randvi hunt, to hunt together, excited her. Maybe it was just the thrill of the upcoming hunt, of tracking their prey and eventually deciding between life and death. Or maybe it was the spark that had appeared in Randvi’s eyes.

‘Show me the way.’

And so she did. They left the longhouse together, bow in hand and a quiver filled with arrows. The spark still in Randvi’s eyes. Eivor watched her from the corner of her eye as they made their way towards the woods surrounding the settlement. The other woman seemed to have left all her worries behind in the little office. There was determination in her eyes, in the way she had wrapped her fingers around her bow and in every step she took. It was not the first time Eivor saw this side of her, but it is a side she would like to see more often. Randvi looked so… alive.

No words were spoken between them when they reached their hunting grounds. Eivor kneeled down in the tall grass, Randvi soon following her example. The warrior scanned their surroundings for possible prey, only to conclude there was nothing within sight yet. Not even a rabbit or bird.

Quietly she moved through the tall grass, her eyes settling on the tiniest movements around her. Usually it was only the wind, playing with the nature that surrounded them. It tickled the flowers and gently stroke the leaves that gave the trees their seasonal colors. Nature at its purest.

Eivor was pulled from her thoughts when rougher movement caught her attention. The tall grass was rustling, but she could not identify what caused it. She’d wandered quite a while from where they had crouched down, and this far into the fields it could be any animal. Although it was too small to be a deer. A boar, or perhaps a hare?

A smile grew on the hunter’s lips when she finally caught a glimpse of her prey’s colors. It was not more than that, just a glimpse, but that bit of red fur told her all she needed to know.

Without making a sound Eivor laid an arrow on her bow and took a deep breath before pulling it back. It was hard to aim as the grass provided cover for the fox in front of her, but Eivor knew what she was doing. She held her breath, aimed for the spot she had seen the red fur, and released the arrow and her breath at the same time. Her eyes followed its trail and waited for the-

‘EIVOR! BY THE GODS!’

Birds flew up and a nearby hare fled when Randvi’s voice echoed through the fields. It sounded from the exact same spot Eivor had just sent her arrow to. No, that was impossible…

‘Randvi?’ Eivor asked confused as she stood from her hiding place. The other woman’s shout had scared off any possible prey anyway.

To Eivor’s shock Randvi rose from the tall grass she had just shot at. Her right had was clamped around her left shoulder and there was no question whether the arrow had hit her or not. How was this possible?! Randvi was supposed to be behind her! When had they lost each other?

‘I thought you were a great hunter!’

‘And I thought you were a fox!’ Eivor shouted back, defending her bruised ego.

‘It seems we were both wrong then.’

Eivor narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth rising once she recognized the small smirk on Randvi’s lips. There were no bad feelings between the two of them, both understanding it had been an accident. Her eyes then caught the blood slowly finding its way between Randvi’s fingers.

‘It is bleeding, we should get you back to the settlement.’

‘Maybe that is for the best, yes.’

Silence surrounded the women while they walked through the fields. Eivor glanced over at Randvi every other minute, checking the amount of blood that covered the fingers on the wounded shoulder. It wasn’t much, but the worry wouldn’t disappear before she got to take a look at the wound. She had to be sure she hadn’t seriously injured the one leading their clan.

Not even when the longhouse came into view did Eivor talk, nor when she collected water and a cloth to clean Randvi’s wound, or when she carefully helped the other woman undress. Seeing Randvi in nothing but her breeches and chest wrappings left her speechless. Her skin was covered in more scars Eivor had ever suspected, although it was no where near the amount of scars her own body wore. Despite the roughness of old wounds, the skin looked so soft, so warm. She was so… beautiful.

Eivor quickly focused on the hurt shoulder again. The gash was not deep and it had stopped bleeding by now, but the dried blood was still covering the skin of her shoulder and hand. Carefully Eivor dipped the cloth in the cold water before pressing it to cut. She had expected a reaction. A gasp or hiss in pain, but not the laugh that quietly sounded.

‘Unbelievable.’ Randvi shook her head in disbelief, a small smile still present on her lips. ‘I leave my table once and I get shot at.’

‘I apologize, it was a mistake.’

‘I have to admit, I like the change.’

‘What change are you talking about?’ Eivor asked while she reached for another cloth to bandage the wound.

‘You taking care of my wound, instead of me taking care of yours.’

‘I agree, though I would rather not see it become a habit. Seeing you hurt is not something I desire.’

The silence returned when Eivor focused on bandaging up Randvi’s shoulder. She made sure it was not too tight nor too loose. She had caused the wound, so it was also her responsibility to heal it again. It had to be perfect.

‘There, all done.’ She smiled after inspecting her work and gently pressed her lips upon the bandage before looking up at Randvi. ‘For the pain.’

‘You know, I think I might also have hurt my lips.’

Eivor froze. For a second she wondered how it was possible Randvi had hurt her mouth, and then it clicked. She understood what Randvi was actually asking for, what had really been behind that spark in her eyes, the true meaning of the words she had scribbled down. What could be.

‘I am… I am sorry, I shouldn’t have… I got away from myself.’

Eivor realized then that her body had remained frozen while her mind travelled journeys between her thoughts. She lifted her hand and gently stroke Randvi’s cheek, the skin so incredibly soft under her calloused fingers. It nearly made her heart cry in happiness.

‘I do not want to see you in pain.’

Eivor closed the distance between them after whispering those words. It was a mere touch of lips, until Randvi took hold of Eivor’s cloak. She pulled her closer, keeping her in place while kissing her back. All their longing and love, poured into a kiss. And Eivor didn’t understand how she had never seen it, how she had never thought about it. About everything that they could be.

#Fanfiction #Eivor x Randvi #iwrotethis #ac valhalla #Liefje is keeping the playstation hostage for a LOTR marathon so this happened #There is just so much to write about with these two

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

Azula Week 2020: Day 6 - A Measure Of Strength

Prompt: Training Pair: Azutara Song: Disturbed - The Light

Summary: Azula loses an arm and Katara helps her through the recovery process.

It happens in a flash of red. At first she isn’t sure of what has just happened, it doesn’t quite register and when it does, it almost as feels as though it hasn’t happened to her, but to someone else entirely. But then the pain settles in. It radiates from her where her left arm should be and spreads out to encompass her entire being. “Zuzu?” She utters softly.

His face is twisted in shock and horror and perhaps rage.

“You missed her, dumbass!” Declares a voice from a distance.

Neither she nor Zuko react. She is in capable, already feeling plenty dizzy and weak. And he, taken too aback to manage.

“Nah, ya ass, I go’d her.”

“Not in the right spot.” Declares the first voice. She hears the snap of a bow string and the whistle as something just misses Zuko’s ear and another spot of agony blossoms in her middle. Tears slip down her cheeks as she stares at her brother. Her remaining hand more or less absently goes to cover the spot that the arrow juts through. She feels blood gush between her fingers. Her hand is slick with it. “Zuzu, I…” She falters. Her mind is going. There is so much blood, it is emptying from her body faster than she can comprehend.

“You ain’t get ‘er neither.” Remarks the second assassin. She thinks that the only thing worse than a hate driven aggressor is a hate driven aggressor who lacks a brain.

He finally acts, in one sweep he catches her weak body and shoots a good burst of fire. She wishes that he would have paid more attention to her when she’d tried to teach him to bend lightning. He takes the first man, the smarter of the two, down regardless. At least he has paid attention to her lesson to take the hardest opponent down first.

She isn’t sure how the rest of the battle goes because her head gives one final dizzying tilt and her body goes limp.

.oOo.

She is numb when she wakes, her senses dulled and mercifully muted. Briefly she thinks that she shouldn’t be alive. She feels along her belly until her fingers find the bandages. The spot radiates a sort of warmth can only a terrible wound can. But that burning sensation is much worse at her shoulder. She knows what she isn’t going to find when she brings her hand to it. Her lower lip trembles.

“You’re finally awake!” Zuko exclaims, eyes wide with relief. “The doctors were telling me that they weren’t sure if you would. But you’re awake. I told them that you would be, you always were lucky.”

Azula swallows, “lucky!?” She snaps, the shrill, franticness in her tone saves her from sounding argumentative. She just sounds...scared? Terrified. The hand she holds to the remaining stump of her arm shakes.

Zuko gently pulls her hand back. “You shouldn’t touch it, it’s still fresh.”

Fresh enough for it to hurt like hell, but not enough for the bandages to be bloodied.

“I…” She sputters, “how am I supposed to bend like this?”

“You’re not!” He says too quickly. “You’re supposed to rest now and when you’re healed you can figure out how to work around this. You always do…”

“I need two arms to bend lightning…” she says softly.

“You need to lay back down and rest.” Zuko replies. “Katara is going to be here to heal you…”

She approaches as he mentions her. “She’s awake?”

“Just woke up.” Zuko answers. And then to Azula he says, “I’m going to bring you something to eat.” Azula isn’t hungry but she lets him leave.

“Hold still, okay.” Katara instructs.

Azula doesn’t plan on going anywhere. Katara lifts Azula’s shirt and tenderly peels the bandages away. The water is cool against Azula’s tummy as it alleviates some of the pain. The waterbender holds her hand there for a few moments more before pulling the water away and replacing the bandages. Azula tugs her own shirt down.

“It’ll be easier if you take it off. Don’t worry, they gave you a sleeveless undershirt.”

Azula sits up and lifts the shirt over her head, but it catches, awkwardly tangling her within her own clothing. Katara pulls it the rest of the way over her head. The princess’ stomach and mood plummet. She can’t even take her own shirt off without help. And suddenly she begins to hate herself. What good is she if she is going to need help to do the most basic things? She balls her fists into the blankets.

Katara creates a sleeve of water on her shoulder, as far as she can tell anyhow. She averts her eyes, not yet willing to see the damage yet. She gnaws on her own cheek, she knows that she shouldn’t wait. It’ll be better to get it over with so that she can get used to it sooner. Azula takes a deep breath and shifts her gaze to her missing arm. Her lip quivers again and tears burn in her eyes. She should have waited for the waterbender to leave.

Said waterbender puts the water away. She seems to hesitate before wiping the tears from Azula’s eyes. But it is a pointless effort as more come to take their place. More and more until her whole body is wracked with sobs.

Katara takes her in her arms and rubs soothing circles over her back. “Careful, you’re going to hurt…”

Azula is well aware, her stomach is already aching again. She lets Katara lay her back and bring the water to her belly again, driving away the dull pain that she’d coaxed back.

“It’s going to be fine, Azula. You’re going to be fine.”

It must be in the waterbender’s nature to be a nurturer because they certainly weren’t on particularly good terms before the assassination attempt. No one was on good terms with her. No one but Zuko, and their relationship had still been so delicate.

“I don’t feel fine.” She mutters. She is very certain that she won’t be. She knows for certain that things will never be the same and that her new normal is going to be much worse than what she’d had before.

“Maybe you don’t right now, but you will.” She presses. “Zuko tells me that things usually work out for you.”

This only dims her mood further. “They don’t. They haven’t, not since the Agni Kai.” She thinks that she had lost her luck alongside her mind, dignity, and aspirations that day.

“Well then you’re due for some good luck soon.” Katara tries.

The waterbender visits again the next day and the day after that. It is now part of her routine, sometimes Zuko or Sokka come with her, most of the time she is alone. Azula yearns to leave her bedrest, but both the doctors and Katara advise against it.

Katara is caring with her, more than anyone has ever been and it makes Azula feel embarrassingly weepy and emotional all over again. She thinks that this might be the first time anyone has invested so much time into her well being. Maybe that is why it was so easy for Azula to grow attached.

.oOo.

She is allowed to leave the hospital bed a few days later, but activity is restricted. Azula itches to get back to training, itching to find a work around to her handicap. Though each of her choice training rooms are guarded; she can throw around all of the titles she wants, they override her for her own wellbeing.

Each rejection has her increasingly more frustrated. Her frustration carries her onto the bench in the palace garden. She sits, uncharacteristically hunched, her arm hanging limp in front of her, lips pursed in a full pout.

“I take it, they wouldn’t let you into your training room again?” Katara finds a seat next to her. Azula crosses her remaining arm over her chest, her frown deepens. “I can’t even convey the extent of my dissatisfaction correctly.”

Katara laughs, “trust me, you’re conveying it just fine.”

Azula almost cracks a smile, but her mood is too dim.

“Here…” Katara mutters. She pushes Azula’s sleeve up and the princess feels a familiar controlled current. Her wound is rather decently healed, but it still feels kind of have the soothing of a good healing session. She feels some of the tension leave her. “Feel better?”

“Somewhat.” Azula replies. “I’d feel better knowing that I’m not useless…”

“Then you can start feeling better now.” Katara assures. She gives Azula’s hand a small squeeze.

“I mean that I’d feel better knowing that I can still bend like I used to.” Her stomach sinks further, she knows that she won’t be able to, not exactly.

Katara cautiously takes the firebender into a hug and pats her back.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile.” Azula mutters. She is dreadfully tired of people treating her as though she will break at the slightest touch.

“We just don’t want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t know how to tell her that it hurts infinitely worse to feel so vulnerable. To be treated like she is weaker. “You won’t.” She states simply.

.oOo.

Azula is starting to grow accustomed to being short an arm. Reflexes to use the arm she no longer has are becoming frequent; she forgets that she has lost it less. Climbing is no easy feat, and it won’t be until she strengthens her core and her right arm enough to compensate.

With a tired huff, she lets go of the rungs of the ladder and pushes herself up with her feet, gripping the next rung up before she can drop to the floor. Weeks back, Zuko had the ladder made specifically to cater to her training needs. Its entire purpose is to train her to scale buildings and cliffsides again.

If nothing else, she has a rather impressive grip. She reaches the top of the ladder and lets herself drop.

“You finally made it to the top.” Katara notes with a smile.

“It took much longer than it should have.” Azula scowls.

Katara rolls her eyes and ruffles the firebender’s hair. “You’re always so grumpy. I got something for you.” She fishes around in her bag and pulls out a sleeveless shirt.

“You know that I don’t wear sleeveless in public anymore…”

“I know that you’ve never let insecurities stop you from doing anything before.” Katara shoves the shirt into her arm. “Why shouldn’t you wear a sleeveless shirt?”

“Because nobody wants to see this.” Azula motions to the stump.

“I don’t mind seeing it.” Katara shrugs. “Toph likes it too.”

“Because she is spared the grotesque details.”

“Because she finally has someone else sort of like her. Someone who is still...badass despite a handicap.”

“If I wear the sleeveless shirt tonight, will you promise to never timidly say ‘badass’ again?”

“I guess, that that’s a fair deal.” Katara agrees, though Azula thinks that she has offered herself the short end of the deal. “Have you started working with lightning again?”

Azula swallows and nods, this time she is the meek one. “I need two arms.”

Katara frowns and purses her lips. “Or… you need to redirect the flow. Redirecting lightning borrows waterbending techniques....”

“That also require two arms…”

“That’s the thing about water, when it’s path is blocked it usually just changes it’s flow.”

“Or it gets blocked and has nowhere to go.”

“And then it bursts through with more power than before.” She points out. “Even if it takes a while.” She pauses. “Have you tried bending lightning using a waterbending technique?”

Azula nods, “believe it or not, I’ve tried earth too.”

“I’ve heard of benders who could bend with their minds. If anyone could learn to do that, it’s you. You’ve already trained your mind so well in other areas.” Katara holds her hand at Azula’s temple. “Why not try to direct your flow of lightning using your mind?”

“I suppose that I can give it a try.”

Azula stands up, for now she will focus on her firebending. At least that is going decently enough.

“You’re going to look beautiful tonight.” She pecks Azula on the cheek. A cheek that is now faintly pink. She still has to get used to receiving so much affection. Somehow she thinks that that will be harder than getting used to having one arm.

“You are distracting me from my training.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Your training is distracting you from me.” She flashes a mischievous smile. “Come on, let me train with you, don’t you think it’d be useful to have some combat training.”

Azula considers, “yes, quite.” Though there is a part of her that hesitates. The last thing that her ego needs is for her to get her ass completely kicked.

“Remember when we were in the caverns of Lake Laogai and I had you trapped in those water tentacles?”

Azula’s face colors again.

“Maybe you can make a fire version of that and use that as an arm in battle.” She suggests, “I can show you how to do it.”

“You wrap the water around your arm.” Azula reminds flatly. “Right…” Katara trails off. “Well why don’t we just have a little dual like I first suggested?”

“Sure, just don’t completely destroy me.” Azula mutters.

Katara wraps her arms around the princess. “We’re not trying to see who the better bender is, we’re just trying to get you used to fighting again.” She reminds. “I think it’ll be much easier for you to figure out how to approach attacks if you experience them.” She pauses. “Actually, the whole point of this will be to try new methods. Only one of us is going to attack, the other sticks to defense. And then tomorrow, we’ll switch.”

“Right, yes.” Azula agrees. “I suppose that does make much more sense than starting with a dual.” She silently adds that it makes more sense to begin with defense as well. “And when you aren’t around I can work on trying to bend with my mind.”

“I was actually planning on sticking around for that. Combustion Man made all kinds of great faces while doing it.” Katara laughs. “Sort of like the one you’re making now.”

Azula, with nothing else to chuck save for fire, tosses the shirt at Katara who quickly sets it aside. “Alright, so I’ll come at you with a water whip.”

“With two.” Azula insists. “I can easily block one.”

Katara lets the water slide down her arms. “Two it is. Ready?”

“Don’t baby me either.” Azula requests. “If I get hit, I get hit. I should have blocked it.”

Katara’s expression softened. “I’m not going to hurt you on purpose. I know that you guys can be brutal here, but you don’t have to be. I won’t go easy on you, but I’m not going to throw you around either.”

“Just throw some water at me already.” Azula grumbles.

Without warning, Katara obeys. Azula is pleased that her reflexes remain, she ducks down and evaporates the stream with a steady flow of fire. Katara comes at her with the second water arm. Other reflexes are still intact, she goes to throw up her left arm to defend. In battle she would have taken a good slash to the face. She grits her teeth and fights to keep tears of frustration at bay. “Go again.” She requests through gritted teeth.

Katara looks on in concern, but ultimately decides that, for the sake of the princess’ ego, to oblige. She comes just as quickly, but Azula knows what is coming this time. For it, fending the faux attack off has no satisfaction. Not until she notices the third and fourth water arms. This time Azula springs up and cuts through the twin streams with a kick of fire. She has only enough time to land before the water begins to rise again.

She sends a good portion of her chi to the soles of her feet and heats the water beneath them until it turns into nothing but mist. Mist that rises rather thickly. She realizes that she no has the element of surprise on her side. Briefly she thinks of taking the offensive role, but a sense of honor takes precedence. “I’d be able to attack you very easily right now.” She lets Katara know.

“She, we’ve only just begun and you’ve already found a new approach to combat.” She can hear the bragging, ‘I told you so’, but the excitement in her voice takes the edge off of it. “I figured that you would.”

Azula drops into a roll as Katara sends the next water tentacle in her direction. From the floor, she gives it another fiery kick. She thinks that the move is more reminiscent of Zuko’s bending style than her own. She blasts herself up right with her arm and propels herself forward and under the next water arm, with the agility that is all her own. The water arms pursue her until she reaches the west wall. She runs up it and somersaults over the streams, raining fire over them. They evaporate in another cloud of mist. She lands next to Katara.

“I don’t think that I have to go easy on you.” The waterbender remarks. “It seems to me, like you’re just as good at this as before.”

“I still can’t…”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Lightningbend? You’re really fixated on that, aren’t you?”

“It’s what sets me apart, everyone can firebend, it takes true mastery to lightningbend.”

Katara quirks a brow. “Really, you think that it’s your lightning that sets you apart? Zuko is learning to lightningbend. If anything it’s--I don’t know--your blue fire that sets you apart.”

Azula holds a small flame in her palm and watches it flick and dance. Katara cups her hand under Azula’s. “You’re the only one who can do that.”

“I suppose.”

“But do you know what really made you such a strong combatant?”

“What?”

Katara taps the side of her head. “Your mind, Azula.” She pauses. “You’re really clever and you think fast. That’s what always made you so effective. You didn’t lose that Agni Kai because you were less powerful, you lost it because you weren’t all there.”

Azula lets the fire die down.

“You didn’t need your bending during the eclipse.” Katara continues. “Because you had a plan and you’re good at improvising when you don’t.” She squeezes Azula’s hand. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you won’t be able to bend like you used to for a while. But you don’t need to because you can think like you used to.”

Azula swallows, this time her eyes well with a different sort of emotion. She isn’t quite sure what it is, but it is moving enough for her to have to wipe her eye with the back of her hand. “I guess that I hadn’t considered…” She trails off.

“Well, now you know.” Katara sits herself down in Azula’s lap and Azula wraps her arm around the waterbender’s torso. “So you can give yourself a break.”

Azula stares at her palm as Katara nuzzles her head in the crook of her neck. “I’d still like to bend lightning again, though.”

“You will.” Katara assures. “Until then, you’ll just have to get creative when kicking ass.”

“We had a deal.” Azula nudges her lightly in the ribs.

“Put your new shirt on.” She pecks Azula’s nose. “And let's get ready for our dinner party.”

#Azula #Katara #Azutara #azula week 2020 #Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula Week #Fanfiction

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