#in purely objectional fact because it makes it seem like they would rather be rid of her than deal with the enormous work forgiveness takes

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Semi negative below the cut - 

Here's the thing like...fundamentally, what the majority of the US Tour 6 indicating that they believe "the wrong cat died" really shows to me is that the understanding of the show has been somewhat lost over the years.

This is no disrespect towards any of them, and I believe that joking about this subject is absolutely within an area of general fun and lightheartedness (we do it literally all the time), but at the end of the day it misses the point.

[linkspooky]

Yuji, Alone. 

I have been saying in my past few meta that Yuji has a really unhealthy way of viewing both himself, and his relationships with others. Yuji is excellent at reading the feelings of others and empathizing with them, and at the same time terrible at processing his own emotions, a trait he shares with Geto who he is once again paralleling this chapter by choosing to stew in isolation rather than reach out for support. 

Chapter 138 does an excellent job of showing how deep these issues run, which I will explain under the cut. 

1. Yuji and Geto

If I were to explain the unhealthy mindset Yuji has by simplifying it down to one sentenence, simply stated it would be “I want to help others, but I don’t want to accept help from other people.” 

Both Yuji and Geto are so motivated by empathy they feel like they are responsible for solving other people’s problems, and they often use other people rather than themselves as a reason to move. They’re actually selfless to a fault. In that, it’s a problem in their behavior. They do everything they do for other peope, so they have no idea what they themselves want. If Gojo is someone who has a strong self image, a strong set of beliefs, an idea of what he wants to do to the world, Geto and Yuji are people who try not to think about themselves at all. 

Not only does Yuji almost never critically exam his own motivations, but he also doesn’t think of his relationships with other people. 

This is something Yaga pointed out as a danger with Yuji’s way of going about things, all the way at the beginning of his arc. If you’re doing it because your grandpa told you so, then is it really something you want to do? When you die, is it going to be your grandpa’s fault too?

Yuji is someone who seems selfless on the surface, and to an extent he is, but just like Geto that’s not all there is to him. It’s something Gojo called out early on, Geto presented himself as someone selfless, motivated entirely by using his powers to protect others, but he was also doing so self righteously. 

To clarify what I mean by self righteous, Geto believed that he was doing something because it was the objective right thing to do, but actually it was just his own personal feelings. That’s why after Riko’s death forced him to critically examine himself, he realized he didn’t want to follow the rules of Jujutsu Society. 

Both Yuji and Geto pay attention to others, but also have the blinders on in regards to themselves, and that’s the parallel right there. Yuji says he is doing these things for other people, that his number one priority is to save them but that motivation is even deconstructed in the third chapter.

Yuji’s not actually doing this for purely altruistic reasons, but for selfish ones. He wanted to do something that nobody else could do. Yuji’s life was like a vaccuum before this point. He didn’t have any real friends, or anything he wanted to do. Suddenly he had a purpose basically gift wrapped and handed to him on his lap. 

Basically, Yuji and Geto both have this schewed way of seeing other people. They thing other people exist to validate their own existences. 

To put it simply. If Hidden Inventory Geto helps weak people than he’s valid. If Yuji helps people, then he’s valid. 

Not only is the way they view themselves built around how they help other people, but at the same time all of their relationships are built up on this as well. Relationships that are built upon shaky foundations will crumble apart easily when tested. 

Geto’s most important relationship was with Gojo, they had an intense chemistry and interaction with one another like they were made for each other. They were both good at naturally balancing each other out, Geto was the one who stood up to Gojo and acted like a tether, and Gojo ackonwledged Geto as his one and only. 

However, the relationship was also built on the idea that Gojo needed Geto. Geto was only able to view his relationships with other people in that way. Geto, wants to take care of people, wants to help people. However, eventually, he was left behind by Gojo who no longer needed him as a partner in combat. On top of that, Geto awoke to a higher purpose in ridding the world of cursed energy. Geto wants to be needed by somebody in the same sense that Yuji does, so for Geto at least being needed to save the whole world in his eyes, was just more important than maintaining his relationship with Gojo. 

Which is why both Geto and Yuji’s relationships fall apart. They are great at making relationshisps, but not at maintaining them. Attention is drawn to the fact that the trio has great chemistry with each other and get along well, but they’re also terrible at communicating with each other. 

"The seats... in my life... How should I put this? I don't want my heart to be affected by people who don't have a place there. Does that sound cold? Well, I guess there are also guys like you who brings their own chair and takes a seat." Translation by Miho.

Almost literally, I don’t want anyone who’s not a part of my life to try to talk to me or tell me what to do. Also the reference that Yuji is kind of different because Yuji just kind of walked into her life unannounced and invited himself there (this is how Yuji forms relationships with everyone.)

All three of them go behind each other’s backs and keep secrets from one another. All three of them avoid direct confrontation, Nobara even says she doesn’t really want anyone else even trying to tell her how to live her life. The Origin of Obedience arc shows that Nobara, Yuji and Megumi are all good at fighting together as a team, but also questioning if they have a healthy friendship outside of that?

Any relationship takes work, confrontation, arguments and even just plain old talking about things. However, someone who is primarily insecure in their relationships will not be able to do things.  Couples shouldn’t only argue, but couples who never argue is just as unhealthy. If you are so afraid that one argument is going to end a relationship, then your relationship was fragile to begin with. 

Yuji and Geto experience conditional relatinoships. In the sense that, they are only allowed to have friends, if they are helpful to those friends. They themselves are never allowed to ask for help. It’s true that Gojo was kind of blind to Geto’s faults, but also Geto would have never asked for help. Gojo could not see, and Geto deliberately hid things from them. 

Geto always makes his relationships on the condition that he is needed. When Gojo grew more independent, Geto took that as a sign that Gojo didn’t need him anymore and deliberately started to pull away.

Because, Geto isn’t ever allowed to be the one who needs someone else. 

2. Avoidant Attachment

This is just a personal theory of mine, but I think Yuji’s issues might even center around the psychological idea of attachment theory. Especially it’s since deliberately mentioned to Junpei, that Yuji never met his mother. 

Attachment theory is a complex idea, but basically it states that attachment to other people, that is the idea to form healthy relationships with family members, friends, romantic partners is learned instead of naturally present in us. It’s a skill people develop in their formative years. 

Those who show patterns of problematic attachment in childhood will continue the behavior into adulthood unless it’s corrected, because attachment is a skill that’s developed the same as anything else. Of the four categories, Yuji and Geto most resemble this one. 

Avoidant attachment: Children with an avoidant attachment tend to avoid parents or caregivers, showing no preference between a caregiver and a complete stranger. This attachment style might be a result of abusive or neglectful caregivers. Children who are punished for relying on a caregiver will learn to avoid seeking help in the future.

Which goes further to explain how they can be so empathic towards other people, and yet the same time completely unable to maintain close relationships with them. It’s because, they avoid people at the same time. They don’t seek out help when they need it, because, deep down they view themselves as unworthy of the help. 

Geto did not immediately break after the trauma of losing Riko, it was the year of isolation after that where he slowly was consumed by his regrets. Geto got worse and worse over a period of time because he couldn’t handle his trauma in any healthy way, until he just completely snapped. 

During that time he asked himself the same questions over and over again, but Geto wasn’t able to find any kind of healthy answer to his questions because, he didn’t reach out for anybody. It wasn’t just the trauma, it was the behavior after the trauma, the decision to isolate himself for over a year. No one does well in isolation. You need other people to grow or develop. If anything Geto stagnated. Geto’s central flaw was his self-righteousness. Rather than realizing he was wrong and trying to change this flaw of his, he just doubles down and becomes even more self righteous. He goes from believing he’s responsible for protecting all the weak people, to believing he’s a superior being tasked with eliminating all the weak people in the world. So, it’s not really that Geto changed, moreso that he stagnated because he cut off all his relationships with other people. 

And isn’t Yuji doing the exact same thing right now? Yaga even points out this similaritiy between Geto and Yuji, that they try to carry every regret and burden they have on their own. 

It’s not out of selflessness that they do this though, but rather insecurity. Geto didn’t come to Gojo with his problems, because he wanted to be the strongest alongside Gojo he didn’t want to be weak. He was deliberately avoiding Gojo. 

I think it’s important to establish that Yuji wasn’t abandoned by his friends this chapter. Yuji is alone, because he chose to be alone. He’s alone because he’s avoiding both of his friends, because he’s so, so afraid the friendship will end because it’s based entirely on the condition that he be a helpful, good person.

It’s true that Yuji is genuinely worried about his friends getting hurt because of him, but look at his choices. He’s not really tackling the problem in a healthy way. He’s doing everything he can to avoid the problem, isolating himself, and just trying not to think about things. He could try to talk with Megumi and find a solution, but he’s not doing that because he’s insecure in his attachment to others. 

I think his reaction to Choso pretty clearly illustrates this too. Yuji isn’t around his friends because he doesn’t want to be around them. Which is tragic, because Yuji is holding himself responsible for the mass murder which isn’t really his fault. However, Yuji saw his relationship with both Nobara and Megumi as conditional to begin with. He can only be friends with people he can help, and he can never receive help from them. It’s unhealthy to start with because relationships go both ways. Yuji is also, completely unresponsive to Choso.

Yes. Choso suddenly walking to him and delcaring them brothers is really weird.  I don’t expect Yuji to just suddenly start getting along with him right away.

At the same time, Choso explains what the unconditional love between family is between Yuji, and Yuji just doesn’t get it, because he either hasn’t experienced enough of it, or his grandpa the only person that ever unconditionally loved him is gone. Yuji can’t understand Megumi’s love for him is unconditional,. because from the beginning he sees all relationships as conditional. 

Yuji and Choso are facing opposite direcitons because they’re opposites. Choso is willing to hurt complete strangers too, but his love for his family is unconditional and he will do anything for them. Yuji will help complete strangers, but, he doesn’t really understand unconditional love, and even his love with his closest friends has a few conditions. 

Which is why someone who appears on the surface as such a friendly guy who makes friends everywhere he goes, can call himself “a loner” because in Yuji’s mind he is. He doesn’t have friends, he has people who need him. 

Which is just incredibly sad because Yuji doesn’t understand this. Yuji isolates himself thinking he’s doing it for the sake of his friends, but neither Megumi nor Nobara would want him to be alone. 

[mizutori-heiko]

Mizutori’s bakudeku fanfiction master list [complete works]

Really really good writing by these incredible authors. In no particular order! These are all Top!Bakugou and Bottom!Deku. If A/B/O dynamics then it’s Alpha!Bakugou and Omega!Deku. Yes, I have preferences.

Canon World – until 15k

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? by reading_raindrop | 8,303 | Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would.

Oh right, you were a little sh*t by SaysiWrites | 5,653 | When Midoriya Izuku gets hit by an age-reversion Quirk, the last thing anyone expected to find out is that Toddler-Izuku is a little shit. Except for one Bakugou Katsuki, who has seen this phase one too many times already. (Bonus+ the entire Little Sh*t (Kidfic) series)

Do Not Disturb by surveycorpsjean | 10,010 | Apply enough force, and something is bound to break.

And Atlas fell by supercrunch | 15,185 | They move in together, after a while. Katsuki joins Best Jeanist and Izuku trains under Gran Torino. They still take comfort in each other every day, curl up in bed and kiss and talk about how life is going. Their live are tumultuous, after all, what with villains and training and rescuing people every week. It’s nice to have something certain. At the end of a day filled with violence and adrenaline, Izuku knows he can come home to someone concrete. It’s perfect. Being a hero is scary and grueling and uncertain, but this part is just right. And then, one day, a child dies in Izuku’s arms.

be loved by bonnia | 5,403 | The kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands.

Big Protein by Mysecretfanmoments | 13,683 | Bakugou Katsuki has a thriving hero career, an agent to manage his famous attitude, and absolutely zero romantic interest in anyone. With the exception of his favourite health food joint refusing to expand to his city, his life is pretty damn perfect—so why does a viral video revealing Deku's stash of dirty mags involving him and Deku together turn everything upside-down?

Chocolate cake and resin preserved flowers by Anoksun | 11,396 | Izuku loses his memories. Katsuki struggles not to lose Izuku too.

Twin Stars by theperksofbeinglarissa | 8,435 | When Deku saves a woman's life, her quirk is accidentally activated. Her quirk? She reveals a person's soulmate. A star-shaped mark appears on Midoriya's left arm... and on Bakugou's as well. Kirishima is the only one who knows that Bakugou is Midoriya's soulmate, and Bakugou isn't taking the news very well. Can the twin stars of class 1-A work out their differences and find their happy ending?

Unhealthy Fixations by Thesis | 12,522 | Izuku is an adult who knows better than to crush on his childhood bully. AND YET.

Like the Moon by osakakitty | 14,781 | Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Worth a Second Shot by cinnabee | 13,080 | Katsuki and Izuku celebrate registering as a Hero Duo together with a big party. What could go wrong?

Like Something Out of A Shoujo Manga by Merrywetherweather | 2,971 | Deku ends up in a rather interesting quirk accident, one that triggers flag events as if he were the protagonist of an otome game.

Canon World – 15k++

Blood Moon by lalazee | 94,860 | The Thank-Fuck-We-Aren’t-Dead Sex had started then, and had never really stopped. Then came the feelings and the fights. The ego, the pride, the jealousy. And then there was Us.

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh | 669,463 | During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Just Like Breathing by MD_Daydreamer | 35,423 | Izuku got engaged. He didn't mind. If that made Uraraka happy, he could do it. He thought his life wouldn't change much.But then, Kacchan went to live in the USA.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) by vannral | 15,951 | In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

"what's your type?" by sapphicflower | 20,192 | In order to increase their popularity rankings as up and coming pro heroes, Izuku and Katsuki participate in the most popular late night talk show for hero duos - ‘Heroes Rising!’. They’re killing it, obviously, because they know each other from inside and out. Until one question stumps the two of them: “What is your hero partner’s type?”

and it was Just Right by cinnabee | 23,759 | Katsuki spends two years post-graduation in a furious one-sided competition with his childhood friend and rival's promotional photos - until they finally run into each other, and, well. You shouldn't believe everything you see in magazines. A love story about size differences.

Notice Me, Nerd by useless_donut | 40,000 | Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out. A love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A.

in your dreams, nerd! by sapphicflower | 37,639 | In a strange and unexpected set of circumstances, Izuku and Katsuki find themselves sharing their dreams together whenever they happen to fall asleep at the same time. Being hopelessly in love with each other, they don’t mind it all that much. What better way to spend time with your crush than in a stupidly vivid dream?

Hear Me by my_name_is_Levi | 22,419 | It wasn’t as if nightmares were uncommon for the freshman class of Yuuei. They’d seen plenty of things, heard and felt and witnessed enough travesty in their lives to last them a lifetime. But Midoriya Izuku was screaming, and no one, not even Bakugo Katsuki could ignore it.

Bridges by supercrunch | 18,018 | Bakugou is signed up for a Calvin Klein modeling gig. The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart. So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.

objective truth by mamalade | 15,390 | Izuku gets hit with a truth quirk, as one does. He seems to be handling it well—until Katsuki shows up.

catharsis by dollcewrites | 15,071 | It's been six years since Izuku graduated.It's been six years since he confessed to his childhood friend; his classmate and his inspiration. It's been six years since he deleted Bakugou's number, asked his friends not to mention the name, spent every last effort of his heart turning off the TV and averting his eyes from the newspapers. It's been six, long, long years since he gave up on Katsuki Bakugou ever loving him back.

Here here, my friends and me (You are my familia) by Jeka | 128,832 | Bakugou Katsuki has made a great job of ignoring the fact that he is tragically in love with Deku, someone who could never love him like that and let's face it, he doesn't deserve. Now that he can't ignore it anymore, he has to find a way to keep his childhood friend and move on for his own sake. Or so he had thought, maybe he can have Deku, after all. Izuku has everything he always wanted in life. But suddenly he has to navigate the most important relationship in his life through different eyes.

Canon World – Jealous! 

Hands Off by SaysiWrites | 7,140 | When a new girl at school starts flirting with Bakugou, his friends quickly become invested in the idea of their friend experiencing love - even if he doesn't seem at all interested in her. What they don't see is Midoriya fuming in the background. But how can he get rid of her when they've spent so long keeping their relationship a secret?

Surfaces by surveycorpsjean | 25,225 | Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right. As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Green-Eyed Beast by SecretKiwi | 4,721 | Everyone wants a piece of Katsuki Bakugou, but they should beware of the Green-eyed beast always lurking close behind him.

Green with Envy by Sol_Morales707 | 2,611 | Izuku Midoriya is not as innocent and pure as everyone thinks he is. The truth was he was very jealous and willing to do anything for a certain blonde.

Happy Camper by Arysa | 7,074 | Wanting a break from the stress of dealing with the rookie Pro Hero grind, a handful of students from Class A decide to go on a camping trip. Izuku's excited to relax and catch up with everyone, especially Kacchan. But, well, Kacchan's... Kacchan. And dating Kirishima.

How to stop time: kiss by Teddingtons | 31,693 | Deku finally asks Uraraka out. Everyone's supportive except Bakugou who can't even look him in the eye. Deku seeks him out after and is hit with truth.

What I Deserve by s_the_queen | 16,671 | When Izuku starts dating a student in General Studies, everyone is happy for him. She's super sweet and really caring. But something doesn't sit right with Katsuki.

Deku's Already Fucking Taken by asdfjkl129 | 20,704 | 5 times people don't realize that Deku is already in a very happy relationship and try their hand at asking him out, and then in Bakugou's unique and special style, get very firmly corrected, +1 time where no correction is needed.

His by sister_elric | 6,206 | Izuku would like to consider himself a pretty level headed individual. Sure, he had the occasional tunnel vision, especially when it came to training. And hero work. And Kacchan. But, overall, Midoriya felt as though he typically kept his cool. Well, maybe that was a stretch. But, at the very least he could understand his own emotions. So, it surprised even him when an unfamiliar emotion coursed through him as a first year approached his boyfriend, Katsuki.

Down the Red Line by MinervaHope | 7,804 | Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

Canon World – Fake Relationship Goes Wrong

how he should’ve known (and how it turned out) by vannral | 43,918 | In which Katsuki and Izuku pretend to be a couple to avoid journalists, the plan backfires magnificently because of course it does, and the act goes on. Includes feelings, pining, domestic fluff and jealousy.

Vicious by feelslikefire | 105,173 | Midoriya and Bakugou wind up in the very last position either of them thought they'd be in: Hero Partners. It's not fun, but they learn to cope. Their first big assignment together takes them undercover to infiltrate a cult, but the situation turns out far more sinister than they first thought.

What I can never tell you by Mikacrispy | 27,067 | After living in the US for 5 years, Izuku returns to take care of a concussed Bakugou who believes they're engaged. Now, Izuku has to pretend he's in a relationship with the man he's loved for most of his life, knowing that it's just a matter of time until Katsuki gets better and realizes it's all a lie.

Not-Dating by MiraChaDoodles | 14,290 | Katsuki takes Deku on a not-date to save his career, only to find himself wishing it were real.

we'll do the things that lovers do by ethereals | 29,544 | Izuku gets an invitation to Shouto's wedding and Katsuki is PISSED that he asks Kirishima to be his date (also he wasn't even fucking invited

Canon World – Friends With Benefits (?) 

Four Times Bakugou Katsuki Doesn't Intend to Sleep With Midoriya Izuku (And the One Time that He Does) by fallingraine85 | 17,601 | He hadn’t planned for any of this. He isn’t about to go delving into the ball of yarn that is Midoriya Izuku’s heart; he isn’t equipped to try and untangle and make sense of it all. He isn’t about to try to analyze how he’s feeling about all of this, either.... How many times can you repeat the same mistake?

We Wear Chains on the Weekend by surveycorpsjean | 35,086 | Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare."Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways. Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

Just for Now by Shiro_Kabocha | 48,135 | Katsuki's parents are out of town over a school break and to keep him from getting up to any shenanigans, they ask Izuku to house sit with him. What are two teenaged boys to do when left alone to their own devices? (Bonus+ the entire Just for Love series)

safe in the darkness by yoonskisses | 20,855 | Izuku and Katsuki had been meeting up secretly for months, with absolutely no feelings involved. Or so Katsuki thought at least. The dorm gossip about Ochaco and Izuku's new relationship seemed to set a spanner in the works for their arrangement.

Alternative Universe – No Quirks

Bluebird by EtherealBeing | 53,108 | Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact. However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Someone Borrowed by mynameis152 | 138,996 | It felt like hours that he stared at Izuku, coming to terms with the fact that a man, his childhood best friend, whom he hadn’t seen since their senior year of high school, was there in front of his very eyes. Then his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched before he uttered through gritted teeth the very name Izuku had longed to hear for years. “Deku.”

Dark Side of the Sun by Synnie | 51,598 | Staying up too late playing video games, Kirishima wasn't expecting to get an urgent call begging for help. Next thing he knew, he was letting his classmate Izuku Midoriya take refuge in his apartment - without consulting his always angry roommate.

Manage Me by Justaperson1718 | 10,756 | Izuku becomes Katsuki’s model agent.

Don't Set Your Drink Down by Crandberrycrush | 88,424 | With sudden clarity Izuku realized he had broken the first rule of going out. Never leave your drink unattended.

Livewire by pretty_rekless | 18,160 | Per Ochako's request, Izuku downloads a gay dating app in hopes to finally find a partner. Except every single one of his leads keep ghosting him or standing him up... That is until one hot, fiery blond enters the chat. Grindr/Tinder AU fic.

Drinking Watermelon by warschach | 8,906 | Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Precious Pet by Mikacrispy | 6,379 | When broke college student Midoriya Izuku found a job that offered lodging, food, and good pay for four hours of work each day, he thought it was too good to be true. But he called anyway. Turns out all he has to do is to be the spoiled little puppy of a rich businessman.

Our Eleven Summers by Dark_Mage_Ayumu | 34,472 | The first time Katsuki met Izuku was when he was eight. For the next eleven years, Izuku changed his life, and no one even knew. Their relationship was something they shared in secret.

sticky note crushes by ladyofsnails | 3,239 | Katsuki hates his roommate. The green-haired, freckled, artsy son of a bitch with his dumb pun t-shirts and paint-stained hands he can’t fucking keep to himself. Katsuki can’t leave a single assignment or paper out in his room because that idiot will just grab anything to draw on it. He’s like a shark that can’t stop swimming else it’ll die – he can’t stop drawing. Ever.

Don't Play Pretend by SweetSide | 10,103 | Actor AU: Deku and Bakugou get the leading roles for an upcoming TV Drama. They weren’t aware that they would be working with each other for who knows how long. It would’ve been completely fine if they weren’t exes.

97.6 FM by jamjars | 32,249 | Izuku can’t stop listening to the radio host with the deep voice who sounds like he’s stuck in 2010. It’s a harmless crush. That is until he starts calling into the show under the pseudonym Deku.

Read {between} Your Lines by greatcloudninja | 52,252 | Midoriya Izuku, up-and-coming actor, has finally hit his big break (...), Bakugou Katsuki, who has been acting for over twenty years.However, Bakugou seems to have it out for Izuku, leading to tension both on and off set. When some incriminating photos surface, the studio suggests (...): having Bakugou and Midoriya fake a relationship to get ahead of the rumors. 

I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts by PassingShadow | 5,522 | Izuku is a professional cuddler and Katsuki is his new client that’s just a little rough around the edges, and needs a natural healing touch.

Alternative Universe – Quirkless Deku

A Good Old-Fashioned Tattoo AU by lalazee | 14,437 | After their paths had split, Bakugou & Deku meet again as adults. While Bakugou begins to repent for the kid he used to be, he also starts to prove himself as he the man he is now.

Call Me a Safe Bet (I'm Betting I'm Not) by WTTTD | 10,803 | He wished he had some sort of heads up before seeing Deku again for the first time after nearly two years, looking like the essence of a lazy Sunday, smiling and surrounded with brand new, adoring friends. It was a little fitting that Katsuki burned for him so badly. (Support Department Deku)

In Which Kacchan Has a Ruff Time by OneshotPrincess | 14,511 | Bakugou Katsuki gets quirked into a dog, gets adopted by an unknowing Izuku and generally has a very rough few days full of realizations

While You Were Sleeping by Belkacaramelka (annabelleg) | 71,197 | The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Let Me Assist You Personally by Seeress | 32,806 | Izuku is long-suffering Personal Assistant to #1 Pro Hero Dynamight.Dynamight can't keep a PA to save his career. They all quit crying after a few days weeks. Enter, Izuku—with enough money problems to brave the jaws of the cranky beast. Childhood friend turned glorified paid slave. Somehow it all works out. ‘Kill them with kindness’, his mom had told him once. If that were true, Bakugou Katsuki would be stone-cold dead by now.

Smile For The Camera by kurokonekokilled | 19,179 | Midnight has a cam site, home to millions of users, but one catches Katsuki's eye when he goes scrolled through it in search for something to help him release a little stress. A live stream and the best orgasm of his life later, his wallet is lighter, and he might be almost as obsessed with this Deku guy as the cam boy is with him.

Just Like The Comics by brichibi | 24,935 | Where Izuku works at a comic book shop because that’s as close to a hero as he’s gonna get, and Katsuki plays the part of heroic ex-boyfriend who is good at everything except winning Izuku back... maybe

Alternative Universe – Quirks

Get on my Level by Mikacrispy | 92,273 | Bakugou Katsuki is a Pro Hero whose boss demands him to take an intern. Midoriya Izuku is a UA student who needs an internship. When the two of them are put together, they learn about what it truly means to be a Hero and what it means to be in love.

A/B/O – Secret! Baby

Home by Emerald2402 | 87,214 | Midoriya Izuku left Japan in a rush, moving to America without a word to anyone else. But then almost 11 years later he arrives back Home and Bakugou Katsuki's Alpha is furious. Fuck that, Bakugou is furious, because Midoriya Izuku, an omega he tasted one time, has been keeping a very big, very blonde haired, green eyed secret.

Those Under the Same Stars by PerpetuallyPerturbed | 325,553 | When Katsuki Bakugo left Izuku Midoriya five years ago, he thought it was for forever. He put aside dreams and wishes of the omega to focus on his career. He was going to be the best hero, after all. He couldn't have an omega getting in his way. So when he's stopped on the streets one day by a pup begging for help for his mom, he isn't prepared to face what he gave up, and what the consequences of his actions were. (Quirkless Deku)

A/B/O – Quirks

Mark Me. Make Me Yours. by decadentbynature | 10,062 | Midoriya is the only Omega at UA and he's been hiding it well but there's one issue that threatens to expose him: his attraction to an Alpha, Bakugo. After being told to give some paperwork to Bakugo, Midoriya lets him into his dorm room and is immediately overwhelmed by his scent. Unable to help himself, he gives in to his urges, only to be discovered by Bakugo but instead of becoming enraged, Bakugo decides to give Midoriya exactly what he wants

Claim Me by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 114,449 | Being an Alpha has nothing to do with Katsuki's success as a Pro-Hero, the same way Deku's Omega status hasn't kept him from becoming Number Two. Secondary gender doesn't mean anything nowadays and “mating” is an antiquated practice. So when Izuku, his rival, asks Katsuki to Claim him in the middle of the night, there is only one logical thing to say. “What the fuck?”

Change of Plans by Mikacrispy | 185,965 | Alpha Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki never planned to get married to some random omega but what he wants isn't an option anymore. One for All wielder Midoriya Izuku has suffered injustice too many times and doesn't plan in allowing his secondary gender to dictate how he must live his life. Falling in love was never in the plans.

Going Feral For You by ANGIE_fic | 17,977 | Bakugou has an aggression problem that might have to do with his Alpha. His job is on the line because of it. So what do you do with a pent up Alpha? Yes.Rut. (Quirkless Izuku)

i live for you, i long for you by jeonjeonggukkkkkie | 19,165 | The five times Izuku hinted he wants Katsuki to spend his next heat with him, and the one time Katsuki took the hint.

Baby's First Bloom by ContraryBee | 44,945 | Izuku blooms for Katsuki one warm day in their third year of middle school. What follows is both boys learning about themselves, their bond, and the society they live in.

As Fate Would Have It by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 88,737 | Katsuki Bakugo had plenty of reasons why he wasn't mated yet, not that he was going to explain why to just anyone. But now, Ground Zero was running out of time. If he didn't find someone soon, he'd lose his position as a Pro-Hero and he'd never get to be #1. So, when he finds out there's a male Omega recently arrested for prostitution that's headed to prison if he too doesn't get a mate…well it must be fate. (Quirkless Izuku)

A/B/O – No Quirks

Gravity by warschach | 71,477 | Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round.Not that he cares, pfft. (Fine, he cares.)

Nine Months by greatcloudninja | 23,303 | Omega Midoriya Izuku connects with Alpha Bakugou Katsuki through an online singles ad. Izuku pays Katsuki to help him with his heat, ending up pregnant in the process. What follows is a pregnancy filled with ups and downs, but whatever hurdles come their way, they can make it through together.

The long dark by Ominous-Anonymous (Ominonymous) | 13,289 | He could have been really dangerous. He could be a fucking murderer for all he knew. But Izuku Midoriya, ever the reckless daredevil, was not thinking of that when he got into a car with a complete stranger. Completely ignoring the part where his mother always taught him to never gets into cars with alphas he didn't know...

[nat-20s]

Part 5 of Wonderful! Au. *boyband voice* banter’s back alright!

Also on AO3

~*~

Jon: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format. If my husband being horribly soppy-

Martin:-hey!-

Jon: -turned you off the how, this should be a refreshing return to formula, though I can’t guarantee there won’t be further horrible soppiness-

Martin, performatively under his breath: -most people thought it was charming-

Jon: -as that tends to happen when one is recording with the love of their life. If last week’s episode is the only one that you like, too bad, I’m back in full form, and should be at least through the rest of the season.

Martin: This show doesn’t have seasons? Due to the whole lack of a narrative thing?

Jon: I was referring to spring.

Martin: Oh, right.

[A beat passes.]

Martin, flatly: Oh. Great goof hon.

Jon, smug: Thank you.

Jon, sincere: Also, before we get properly started, I did want to actually thank everyone who sent well wishes.

M artin: Yes! We got positively inundated with lovely messages, it definitely brightened both of our days. I would even say it was wonderful.

[Jon groans.]

Jon: I am..not proud of the energy we’ve created for this episode so far, and we haven’t even hit the small wonders. Speaking of, do you have a small wonder this week?

Martin: Mine’s bad action movies.

Jon: Really? I had no idea you even liked them, let alone consider them wonderful.

Martin: Okay, so, saying I like them is a bit of a misnomer? It’s more that I like what they can do more than the movies themselves?

Jon: Elaborate?

Martin: It probably comes as a surprise to no one that I’ve tried my hand at a fair amount of mindfulness and mediation techniques. I’ve found poetry and journaling have been helpful for actually processing life events and whatnot, but when it comes to giving your brain a hard wipe and reset, nothing is half as quick and effective as a shitty shoot-em-up. Somethings about 2 hours of cartoonish, pg-13 violence held together with the absolute loosest of plots brings me to a state of mental blankness that would make a monk jealous.

Jon: How have I never witnessed you doing this? When are you sneaking off to go see Micheal Tarantino or who ever films?

M artin: That’s definitely not the right name.

Jon: Martin, dear, I don’t care. And you’re dodging the question.

Martin, fond: I’m not dodging anything. Since apparently we’re getting into it, you haven’t caught me cavorting with a movie involving more explosions than character development lately because I haven’t been. Haven’t needed it, in recent years. Turns out when you’re not crushingly lonely and working a literal nightmare of job, there’s less of a drive to try and escape your own thoughts. Shocker, I know. Still, to anyone out there that feels like their brain is on fire, go try watching a fast and furious. Any of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Or even better, Chronicles of Riddick. I can’t remember a single goddamn detail of that movie, which makes it perfect for what I’m talking about.

Jon: I have the strong feeling that th is is a “mileage may vary” scenario.

Martin: Well, yeah, that’s this whole podcast. Plus, I imagine that movies like this would cause more stress to someone who cares about, say, world-building or rules consistency.

Jon: I wonder who you could possibly be referring to.

Martin: It’s a purely hypothetical person, love, don’t worry about it. Any small wonders?

Jon: Yes! Particularly relevant to the last week, my small wonder is stripping the sheets from your bed when it’s been too long between washes.

Martin: How very specific. M ost people would just say ‘clean sheets’.

Jon: Well, for one, I’m fairly certain that we’ve already covered clean sheets-

Martin: Shit, have we? Thank god other people keep track of this, otherwise this show would be unbearably repetitive.

Jon: Christ, yes. I typically check the website a good three times while prepping, and every about one out of those three times I find I’m trying to do an topic we did 30 episodes again. Anyway, um, it’s just nice, I think. When you’ve been too busy or sick or away for awhile, tossing the sheets in the wash makes a room instantly seem nicer. Of all the chores out there, this one, at least for me, has the highest reward to effort ratio.

Martin: Hard agree. Especially when the y have that slight funk of having been around to long, getting rid of that is such a relief. Speaking of, we need to change our sheets soon.

Jon: We can do it after the episode. Who goes first this week?

Martin: Considering last week was only me talking, I’m gonna say it’s you.

Jon: Alright, then. My first thing this week is Martin K. Blackwood.

Martin: Absolutely not!

Jon: Oh, you can do a whole episode on me, but I can’t do one little segment on my husband, whom I love very dearly?

Martin: Not while I’m sat here, no!

Jon: So you’re saying you don’t want me to tell the internet that your resolve to be kind even in the face of indescribable cruelty is one of the mot breathtaking things I’ve ever witnessed, or how I find it incredibly endearing when you get so emotional that your voice comes out as a squeak, or even that, on a more base level, you’re very physically attractive, and I could lose entire days thinking about your arms alone?

Martin, audibly blushing, voice the aforementioned squeak: Oh my god, Jon!

Jon, laughing: Then it’s probably for the best that my actual first thing is best friends.

Martin, peaking the audio levels: Oh you absolute bastard! Do you enjoy this? Do you get some sort of perverse sense of entertainment from riling me up?

Jon: Oh, don’t you start. As if you’re not as bad as I am. Maybe even worse.

Martin: That’s not…

Jon: Yes?

Martin: Okay. Maybe it’s slightly true. Really, what is romance for if not flustering your partner with compliments?

Jon, teasing: I certainly can’t think of anything.

Martin: Hush, you.

Jon: No, I don’t think I will.

Martin: Fine. I suppose you can tell our delightful audience about the power of friendship or whatever.

Jon: I would’ve assumed more enthusiasm, considering this segment is still, indirectly, about you.

Martin: In what way?

Jon: In the way that, to the shock of all, you’re my best friend.

Martin, pleased: Oh, is that what I am?

Jon, exasperated: Yes, dearest husband, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. Though, upon reflection, I knew you were my best friend before I knew I held romantic feelings for you.

Martin: When was that?

Jon, letting out a breath that vibrates his lips: God it was...2016? I think it might’ve literally been the day after you told me about your CV.

Martin: That early? Huh. I wonder if that’s what people were picking up when they said they we were close.

Jon: What people?

Martin: I don’t know specifically, that’s just what Daisy told me.

Jon: Daisy? When the hell-?

Martin: It...was when she was interrogating me? And, because sometimes I have to be a parody of myself, pretty much my only take away from that interrogation was “people think me and Jon are close”.

Jon: Well then. It’s not like they were wrong.

Martin, smug: No, no they weren’t.

Martin, sincere: And you’re my best friend, too.

Jon: I was certainly hoping that you’re in this relationship for more than my good looks and incredible fortune, both in the monetary and luck sense.

Martin: You say that as if you aren’t good looking, which we all know is patently untrue.

Jon: You’re biased. You’d say I was good looking if I were nothing more than some primordial ooze with thoughts about its station.

Martin: I’m being completely objective. If you were primordial ooze with thoughts above its station, you’d be the cutest ooze of them all. That’s just scientific fact.

Jon: I’m starting to think we might be insufferable.

Martin: Starting to? Might be?

Jon:…

[Jon clears his throat]

Jon: What I find wonderful about the concept of best friends is, to me, they’re the closest thing real life has to soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there’s some..grand mystic force that drives people to be tied together in the manner that narrative typical soulmates are, and if there was I don’t think it would necessarily be the kind of emotional, heartfelt bond one would hope for, but I do believe that there’s individuals that get to know one another, and because of that knowledge, they chose to stick with one another. It doesn’t have to be a romantic, which is why I say best friend rather than specifically ‘spouse’, but I would argue that the basis of a strong romance like you and I have, is very much rooted in that connection. A true best friendship is an equal partnership, and there’s a sense of..matched sensibilities and understanding that can be utterly incandescent when it happens.

I also think that having one or more best friends makes living life on a day to day basis both better and just flat easier. The dark times aren’t as dark, and the bright times shine even more. I know from my own personal experience there are events that I..that I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you. Hell, last week my..recovery period would’ve taken much longer if you hadn’t been there.

It’s an amazing thing to have someone to share things with, both triumphs and burdens. Um, also, according to Dictionary.com, the term best friends in English has been around since the 1200s. Something about that delights me, like, yes, we’ve had this casual way of referring to a Favorite Person for roughly 800 years. That makes it a hold-out from early Middle English. I dunno, it’s one of those things that make me feel overall very charmed by humanity.

Martin, audibly smiling: No, yeah, hard agree.

Jon: What’s that look for?

Martin: Nothing. Just. I love you a whole lot, you know that?

Jon, voice soft: I may have heard you say that once or twice. Per hour.

Martin: Only that often? I really need to be more diligent about that.

[There’s a bet of silence, presumably where they’re making doe eyes at each other.]

Jon: What’s your first thing?

Martin: Oh, um, right. Rats!

Jon: The expression or the animal?

Martin: Jon, have you ever once heard me say “rats” as an expression? Obviously I’m referring to the animal.

Jon: Ah. Should’ve known, considering that what, a third?, of all your segments have been on animals.

Martin: Yeah? And? You got a problem with critters? With creatures? With lil guys?

Jon, laughing: No, no, it’s very sweet. I’m just surprised you never became a vet.

Martin: Oh believe me, I wanted to. But then I learned that it was not, in fact, a job composed entirely of getting paid to play with other people’s pets.

Jon: You had that job, though, didn’t you? I thought I remembered you mentioning a month long stint at a doggie day care.

Martin, sighing dreamily: Best job I ever had. Too bad that place was shut down after it was revealed to be a money laundering front.

Jon: Good lord.

Jon: Martin did you...did you know it was a money laundering front at the time?

Martin:

Martin: Would it make you feel better if I said no?

Jon: Martin!

Martin: I figured it out like a week in, but, like, who cares? The pay was decent and the floor was super easy to clean, which is very much a plus for even a front of a doggie day care.

Jon: That’s...rather a lot. How about instead of getting into that any further, you tell me about rodents.

Martin: I would love to. But first, we have a shoutout!

Jon: Ooo, a shoutout. Does it specify who should read?

Martin: Let me check. It...does...not…..

...

Jon: Martin?

[A beat.]

Martin: Right! Sorry, um. This week’s shoutout is from Tim, to Danny. It says, “Danny! My favorite person who shares genetic material with me! I wanted to say thank you for your podcast obsession from 4 months ago, and specifically for telling me about these marrieds. They’ve gotten me through many a dull hour at the publishing house. Also, with this shoutout, I’ve officially gotten ahead on the Superior [Last Name Redacted] Brother scoreboard, so suck it. Love you lots, and looking forward to your visit next month, Tim.”

Jon: Oh.

Jon: Um. That’s very..sweet? I think? Mostly?

Martin: Yeah, I’d say so. Uh. We have to take a quick break because, uh, someone is..at our front door! Be back with you all in, from your side of things, just a moment.

[flickeringart]

Living without desire?

I’m sure we’re all familiar with the old spiritual piece of wisdom  “desire is the cause of suffering”… this notion is articulated in the four noble truths of Buddhism:

The first truth states that pain is experienced by all beings

The second truth states that desire, accompanied by pleasure and passion of all kinds leads to pain

The third truth states that to be free from pain is to abandon desire and passion

The fourth truth states that the method to stop pain and suffering is through the Eightfold path of right understanding, thought, speech, action, livelihood, effort, memory and mindfulness.

In my own experience, I’ve found that desire and attachment bring pleasure  – but it’s more or less always accompanied by pain. One is bound to suffer if one is deprived of the very thing that one attributes emotional value to. I believe that pain, in most cases, is an agent of the divine, because it puts the individual in a position to buckle under completely or continue life from the place of a more true and pure position. One never knows how much one is dependent on external or internal things until they collapse and give in. People who have strong attachments are by definition passionate, and astrologically, this would be typical of Scorpio individuals. Scorpio is the sign of death and rebirth, of emotional intensity and perseverance. Scorpio is an emotional water sign that seeks to merge yet protect the integrity of the emotional nature. Everything in life can be lost and snatched away – not only material possessions and people whom one loves, but inner stability and integrity can be threatened as well.

To be intensely emotionally attached is quite the experience, yet the power with which the passion burns is the same power that will destroy and cause pain. Scorpio is really the sign in which pain and pleasure are intertwined. One hates that which one loves because the object, person or activity has enslaved and consumed the person, has the person in its grip. This obsession and subsequent self-destruction is typical of Scorpio and its ruler Pluto. Sometimes love is equated with this dynamic, but it’s not more loving than any other sign or planet. Scorpio wants to possess and be in control, yet is curiously drawn to experiences that involves violation and complete dominance and forceful abnegation of individual power – presumably because there’s value in that kind of experience. But what is the value exactly?

The value is freedom of bondage – not in the way that one is relatively powerful in comparison to a particular temptation, but because one is rid of psychological “hooks”. Being hooked is after all, antithetical to free will. When one is hooked one is enslaved.

(Buy products with my art)

As already established, intense desire in the compulsive sense seems to go hand in hand with experiences of pain – mostly because the desire is not consciously put in motion. The 8th house in astrology (Scorpio and Pluto’s house) relates to the underpinnings of reality, the invisible emotional structure of values and attachments that is predominantly subconscious. We all know that people around us have certain attachments that they can’t break and wouldn’t break willingly because it would entail a lot of pain, even though the pattern might be destructive. Some people need to have a partner that loves them and some people need to have their skills be acknowledged and would do anything to have it be that way. Some people have to have their freedom because they can’t stand bondage and would step over anyone to get it if they had to. Scorpio and Pluto individuals often have this kind of attitude to certain things whether they’re aware of it or not – when push comes to shove, they will destroy that which is a lesser value in order to preserve that which is of a higher value. Some would sacrifice their lives for certain causes. A mother that is psychologically dependent on her children’s success in life might deprioritize other children if the choice had to be made between her own off-spring and another’s. Or she might be more inclined to uphold some kind of ethical code by not prioritizing any one over another, but in that case she is more loyal to an intellectual principle than anything else. What one does depends on what one values and how strongly one values it. Usually people have a hierarchy of values without being conscious of it. Sometimes, the hierarchy of values only reveals itself when one is put under pressure to choose.

The 8th house is the domain of unconscious attachments and emotional complexes. It is indeed a mysterious house. It’s the house of merging, of sex (the psychic experience rather than the physical act), of intimacy and unspoken emotional contracts. In movies, there’s often the case of a character being physically together with someone, yet when the pressure is increased and the person has to choose between the partner or the kids, or the partner or another person/lover with which one feels closer to emotionally, that which was the fact on an unconscious level all along is suddenly out in the open. It seems like circumstances sometimes have to push a person into becoming aware of the psychic makeup and consciously admit to that which was spelled out in the subtext all along. The person actually had a much stronger investment in the children than in the spouse, or didn’t really care for to wife as much as the lover on the side. It’s a silly example, but you get my point.

The power of a certain desire seems to be dependent on how conscious the person is of it and how much personal responsibility one is able to take for it. The same goes for actions, which of course is fueled by desire. People with planets in the 8th house in their natal chart usually have a problem with consciously owning that which the planets represent. For example, someone with their Moon in the 8th house can be dependent on emotional safety that attachment to another provides, which might make them carry out actions that are predominantly unconscious and compulsive. There are usually hidden “shadowy” complexes for nurturing and caring for other people. The person is unaware of his or her own needs so they operate secretively. This could be quite harmless, but it could also be destructive. As long as the person’s Moon keeps working within the shadows, the detrimental consequences cannot be remedied. The fear isn’t faced and the complex cannot be worked through – in a sense, one is a powerless to the dynamic and doesn’t know it. Pain, in this kind of situation, can be beneficial, because it forces awareness.

Within desire lies the potential for non-desire; in attachment can the potential for non-attachment be found. “Right action” as one of the steps of the eightfold path, is presumably action that is completely void of desire – and I might add – of fear. There’s no hidden complex at the root of “right action”. It’s action taken without the motivation to avoid or attain anything in particular on an emotional level. The same would apply to the rest of the seven folds of the path. There’s clarity and pure consciousness without the striving for pleasure and the avoidance of pain. This is essentially what Scorpio is the epitome of, complete invulnerability through separation from that which must kill itself. That which must kill itself is the desire, and it does this through burning up from within, if one could just let it. The Right Path lies beyond desire. The Right Path will unfold itself through consciousness.

[itsclydebitches]

Um one thing i wanna ask is why do you want penny to stay a robot? She would have been hacked again as it wouldn’t make sense for someone not to try it again... ignoring the pinnochio allusion thing cause of course RWBY shouldn’t follow fairytales like a script, but just thinking about practicality as the problem would just occur again.

Also, people complaining about how its a problem they cured her illness (having the virus)... why would you want her too keep the virus when its literally about to kill her and the cure is right there???? I dunno some of the complaints have me a bit confused and i need clarity on them.

Like, If they didn’t grab the relic for themselves, they would have been hunted by ironwood for penny, she would have been killed for the powers to open the vault etc... if they went to the vault with penny without their plan, she would have died... its all a lose lose for penny to me at least

Questions are genuine and I’m not trying to be rude or anything :)

Happy to explain, anon! :D

I’m going to break this up into three parts: The claim that people are upset about Penny’s virus going away, the idea that she’s in more danger as a robot, and the assumption that she had to be made human to fix this problem. 

The first is the easiest to tackle simply because I haven’t seen any of this myself. I don’t know why someone would “want her to keep the virus when it’s literally about to kill her.” My guess would be that there’s been some miscommunication at play. I’m not saying just because I haven’t seen these takes doesn’t mean they don’t exist, but rather that I have seen a lot of critical takes since Saturday and they all boil down to the fans being upset that Penny’s android identity was removed, not that the virus was removed along with it. Of course we’re happy about that additional outcome, we just believe it would have been possible  — even easy  — to achieve that same outcome without taking a core part of Penny’s identity along with it (more on that below).

Secondly, if one of the main arguments for Penny getting a human body is “It’s less dangerous” then I personally don’t find that persuasive. Yes, it means no one can try to hack her again... but it also means Penny can die all the horrible, messy human deaths that she was previously immune from (within the boundary of how long Pietro can give her aura, anyway). We saw it happen on screen. Penny was able to go from this

to this

purely because she was an android. Penny, due to her synthetic body, was able to be torn apart and then  — pretty casually it seems, based on Pietro’s comments  — be put back together, given more aura, and booted up with absolutely no downsides. Penny shrugged off death with a smile! No human body can do that. So yes, she’s vulnerable to hacking as an android, but she’s vulnerable to everything else as a human, things like Nora’s scars and Yang’s lost arm, things that android!Penny would have shrugged off. Each body has its benefits and its downsides, with my personal belief being that, from a combat standpoint, a synthetic body has far fewer downsides and far greater benefits. But that opinion aside, objectively I don’t think a human body is intrinsically safer for Penny in the long run, especially not after her biggest moment in the series was coming back from the dead. She can’t do that anymore. 

Which then touches on our third topic with the question: Why couldn’t the show have fixed android!Penny in a way that ensures she can never be hacked again? See, we have to remember that RWBY is a constructed, fictional story. Nothing “has” to happen. Or rather, nothing has to happen until the writers impose limitations on the text that the viewer expects them to adhere to. For example, if you impose the implied rules of 1. “Our four main characters will make it to the end of the series” and 2. “A character, without aura, will die from a spear through the gut,” then RWBY has to find a way for Weiss to survive Cinder’s attack (rule #1), but that solution can’t be, “Weiss is just randomly okay after a deadly injury, I guess” (rule #2). Hence, we get the solution of “Jaune unlocks his semblance and heals Weiss for her” and it works! It’s a solution that viewers like because it obeys all the rules, both overt and implied. Meanwhile, the problem with Penny’s solution is two-fold. The first is that it contradicts the entire journey she’s been on of “Android girl learns that she’s real and human just the way she is,” which I’ve already spoken about extensively (there are other posts on that), but the second problem is that the show ignores other possibilities and makes up new rules solely to reach this ending. 

Why is Penny made human? Because of Ambrosius’ rules. Why do those rules exist? Because the writers said they do in this episode. It’s not that they introduced these rules episodes or even whole volumes ago, thereby requiring that they adhere to them once Penny’s life is suddenly caught up in them (like with the Jaune example). Rather, the viewer only learned these were limitations while Penny was being fixed. So the writers could have just... not included those. There’s no reason why, in developing Ambrosius’ abilities right then and there, the show couldn’t have made them into something a little different. Have Ruby go, “We want you to magic up an anti-virus program that will heal Penny completely, with no chance of the virus returning. Thus, when you create something new, it doesn’t matter if that program disappears. The virus is already gone!” If the response to that is, “But Clyde, Ambrosius can’t create something he doesn’t understand” that’s a rule that the writers just made up. No one forced them to suddenly impose that limitation. It was a choice. Or even if we have to have it for some reason, you’re telling that the group gets to have the schematics for their escape route  — essentially inventing a teleportation system because Whitley looked at airship flight paths for a few minutes  — but they can’t have Penny or Pietro draw up an anti-virus program? There’s no reason why these rules couldn’t have been tweaked to cure android!Penny. 

There’s also no reason why Ambrosius needed to be involved at all. As just mentioned, Pietro exists and many fans (myself included) thought he would be the solution. Imagine for a moment we had a slightly different version of these events. Penny’s virus is briefly halted by Jaune and, finally given a moment to breathe, she asks where her father is. Last she saw, he was floating in a dead Amity after Cinder’s attack. This reminds Ruby that hey, Pietro made Penny! He’s just as smart as Watts and is far more knowledgeable of her systems. Maybe he can help? So the group heads to Amity and, due to the same techno mumbo jumbo that launched Amity in the first place, or had Klein heal Penny after her crash, Pietro says yes, he can get rid of the virus. Better yet, he can slightly redesign Penny so that she’s made un-hackable in the future, using (again, mumbo jumbo) parts from the now useless Amity. But it will take time. It’s then that the group receives Ironwood’s message and learns that they don’t have time. The reality that Penny will not be cured before the hour time limit necessitates that they come up with a creative way of dealing with Ironwood. Enter Emerald. Her semblance can make it seem like Penny is there, despite her being fixed by her dad miles away. We get an extended fight with Ironwood and, at episode’s end, the new and improved Penny catches up, ready to open the vault for them, this time of her own free will. 

Now, obviously I just made this up off the top of my head  — far from perfect  — but a scenario like this: 

Remembers that Pietro exists and lets him/Maria as an assistant do something for the plot

Re-uses Amity now that it’s just a floating pile of junk metal 

Creates a scenario where we get to see Penny and Pietro confront the fact that she was created to be a tool (sorry I originally made you so easily hackable/put a self-destruct in your brain) 

Maintains all the main story beats like Penny’s near escape, Ironwood’s message, and using Emerald’s semblance

Makes space to tackle other issues like the complaint that Ironwood was taken down too quickly 

Achieves the desired result of healing Penny without taking away her android identity 

Proves that, because we can easily come up with another solution, the idea that she “had” to become human is inaccurate. There were always other options 

Hell, we can even ask why the story bothered with a self-destruct threat in the first place. Seriously, why did Watts do that? I have my own headcanons, but the show never says. This act is the entire BASIS for Penny’s conflict and the show didn’t bother to a) say why he’d do this or b) explain why he’d do this when Salem would presumably like having a Maiden to control. It’s counterintuitive and the show never grapples with that. We have no canonical answer here. More importantly, what else changes if Penny’s self-destruct order is taken out of the narrative? Absolutely nothing. She’s still hacked and struggles to keep Amity afloat, still flies to Ruby, still wakes up and needs to be calmed down by Nora, still tells Whitley her order, still fights the Hound, still tries to escape, still tells Ruby to kill her so she doesn’t open the vault, and Ruby still realizes that opening the vault might be the answer. They could have taken Penny to the door and nullified the virus by letting her do what the virus ordered. Penny is fine now, they snag the Relic, and the group proceeds to save all of Mantle and Atlas. The only thing this self-destruct sequence brings to the narrative is a reason to give Penny a human body. That plot-point was introduced solely as an excuse to give Penny a human body. That never had to happen. It’s not that the writers had a story where, by the rules already in place, they truly had to change Penny to ensure they didn’t lose her, it’s that the writers carefully crafted a story that existed to justify their desire to change Penny. That was always the end goal. They decided they wanted this to happen and that’s the problem here. That they took a character who has spent her entire, fictional existence learning to love herself as she is and crafted a bunch of unpersuasive, needless, and contradictory scenarios specifically to get Penny to a place where they could erase all that. 

There’s no version of Penny that exists who truly had to get a human body to survive because Penny is a fictional character. Everything she does and experiences is thought up by our writers. Thus, at some point they thought up the idea to erase her android identity for a completely human one instead  — the part a lot of people are upset by   — and then made some messy attempts to write a story to justify getting that ending.  

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.2)

SUMMARY: reader faces the consequences of interfering with the Agni Kai (emotionally and physically)

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: angst. Torture, semi nudity (NOT sexually) –traumatising!! physical and some mental abuse. Violence. Mentions/descriptions of death. Crying. Swearing. Ozai being a literal nutter. Azula being nutter 2.0.

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST FROM THE AUTHOR OF THIS FIC - I had some complications with the original blog this fic was posted on so please show this some love,, ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS FOR THIS FIC WILL BE POSTED HERE!! hi friends!! Thank you to everyone who showed some love to the first chapter eep! Anyway I’m really scared for y’all to read this one, but!! I’m aiming to have the gaang in the next one so if you hate this I’m sorry but I didn’t want the story to be rushed so I couldn’t bring myself to skip this :// Please read the warnings!!

Also! In this part italics are internalised thoughts 😊

OTHER PARTS:  pt1   /   pt3   /   pt4   /   pt5   /   pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

The Fire Lords command echoed throughout the room, encompassing the crowd in a thick silence.

Zuko let out a small gasp, one only you were able to hear. After experiencing just a fragment of the physical pain he endured, you didn’t want him to make any decisions he would regret, especially if he was considering to defend you. You didn’t deserve it. Burnt, dead skin, blisters across your left side in the hot atmosphere around you. Your heart begins to tighten and rip you apart all at the same time, realising how much pain you caused for taking all of those lives.

Continuing to kneel on the floor of the duelling platform, you’re frozen, filled with disgust as you finally acknowledge the person you became. From your first commission four years ago, you were numbed to the experience of taking someone’s life. Seeing the life fade from someone’s eyes as you plunged your flame lit sword into their chest, you felt nothing. It was as if it were just a switch inside of them, nothing more. One moment they were there, the next they’re not. You recall Zemin’s reaction when you recounted the events of your first kill, and he didn’t make it seem like it mattered. His only response was to scold you for showing off because you didn’t need to light your sword on fire to kill the man.

Managing to push through the new thoughts and emotions that have awoken within you, your mind travels back to the boy behind you. Despite what you’re currently feeling, it will never amount to the emotional pain he has after being attacked by his father. Fire Lord or not.

Continuing to face the floor, you can’t bring yourself to even glance at Zuko, barely managing to croak out, “Forget who I am. Stay alive, that would be enough.”

You feel his stare to the back of your head. You wish you could turn around and say something, anything at all, maybe even hold him. Anything to get rid of the disgusting, vulnerable, and isolating feelings within you. You wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve it, even if you didn’t know who he really was. Because as much as you hated to admit it, you were afraid. So fucking afraid. Zemin never taught you what to do in these situations, especially anything involving saving the Prince’s life.

Unknown to you, Zuko’s right arm cautiously reaches out to take hold to the back of your robes. So close his fingertips graze the fabric, but not close enough. The two nearest guards rushed to grab you while everyone in the crowd stared at your figure on the duelling ground.

With one guard on either side of you, they grabbed your arms and shoved you off the platform. Hissing, and failing to shove down a pathetic sob ripping through your half-burnt throat, you fall onto your hands and knees. A moment later, the guards were back at your side, dragging you through the door you couldn’t bring yourself to walk through minutes earlier.

Freedom feels like a distant, pathetic dream.

You try to take in the palace around you as they drag you to the right. Connecting where you are to the map, you saw last night, becomes increasingly difficult as the prolonged burning sensation on your skin begins to fog your mind. It’s no use keeping your eyes open. The dark colours of the palace give you a headache. You want to pass out. Give up completely. But Zemin didn’t lock you up in a pitch-black, underground labyrinth, for three months when you were eight to learn nothing. Instincts kicking in, you allow your eyes to close and begin to count your movements, listening to your surroundings.

20 steps forward.

Turn left.

15 steps.

Turn right.

You notice the guard to your left has a weaker hold on you than your right. Possibly about of disgust for holding your arm, or maybe to cause less pain. You assume the former.

18 steps.

The guards come to a stop.

You feel the guard to your left, slightly turning her body towards you. “Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit. I think the kid passed out.”

Ah, so maybe the latter as well then.

The guard to the right scoffs at her suggestion. “Don’t worry about it. She’s not completely out yet, she managed to keep moving. Probably just weak from the pain. Stupid kid. We’ve got a long way to go, and the Fire Lord will want her towards the top of the prison.”

Still unconvinced the female guard persists, “Shouldn’t we be taking her to the infirmary? These are really severe burns.”

There’s a pause. Only for a few moments, but enough for them to weigh up their options. “We should, but the Fire Lord would end us if we did that. We’ll just send a healer to the cell after we get her there.”

The guard shakes you, forcing you to open your eyes. Guiding you out of the palace, you squint your eyes as the sun blinds you, eventually able to make out a tall tower-like building before you. Entering the darkness that lies inside it, you struggle to keep up with their pace as they wind their way further and further up the spiral. Making it to a cell, the guard to the right drops you instantly making you crumble to the floor, eliciting a subtle dig to your hip. You’d forgotten all about the dagger strapped around your waist under your robes—the one you used to kill the general.

While the guard is holding your injured arm tugs you back up, you decide to act while one of them is preoccupied. Balancing on your right leg, you swing your left leg around, slamming into the back of their knees, making them fall. You quickly take out the dagger from underneath your robes, flipping it in your hand and using the blunt of the handle to knock her out in the head. The thud to the guards’ head alerts the other ahead of you. By the time they’ve processed what happened, you ran to them, kicking them in the stomach propelling them into the cell they recently managed to open. Running towards them you drop to both of your knees, arching your back as you slide under streams of fire passing above you. Rookie move on their part. Bringing your torso back up, you send a punch to their face knocking them out cold.

You grab the other guard and drag them into the cell as well and swap your robes for their uniform. It’s too large for your adolescent figure, but its good enough. Taking the keys, you lock them both in there, closing the main door on your way out in hopes no one will notice them in there instead of you.

Breath, you still have a long way to go.

With determined strides, you make your way past other guards in the prison, praying to the spirits that for once they’ll be on your side. Following the steps you memorised in your head from earlier, you end up back at the point where they led you from the arena. From this point, you decide to go in the opposite direction to which they took you. To the left.

Stay calm y/n, you’re going to make it.

You find a door leading out of the castle, and you can see the palace gates in the distance.

Holy Spirits! So… I would have made it out in time if I left the Agni Kai… That doesn’t matter anymore, you’re going to make it out now.

Walking out into the open, you force yourself to suppress a scream of pure joy. Time began to slow down as you saw the gates coming closer and closer. So close you started wondering where you’d go once you made it through.

Those thoughts were abandoned when you hear screaming from behind you.

“Close the gates! That guard is the traitor! Don’t let her out, and close the gates!”

No. No, not again. No, no, no! Fuck!

Breaking out in a sprint, you push yourself harder and further than any training exercise Zemin put you through. You let out a painful scream as if it would make you run faster than the guards at the gates, slowly pushing them shut. Nothing could compare to how much you wanted this slice of freedom. After just a few hours of being in the miserable palace, you were convinced you’d rather walk and swim to the Northern Water Tribe without any food or water, than have to spend another moment here. Mind going into overdrive, you don’t seem to hear or even register the fact that there is a group of around twenty guards behind you, ready to take you down.

With an echoing clang, they seal the gates shut. You falter, slowing down as waves of desperation and hopelessness consume you, yet unable to bring yourself to stop completely.

No, please.

One guard managed to catch up to you in your moments of weakness, throwing a strong punch to your head before you have time to react.

WEEK ONE

It had been a week since you were caught (again) and imprisoned in the Fire Nation jail cell and quite frankly, you were bored. After your stunt when you were first brought here, they ensured that you would never have access to any sharp objects, serving food in wooden bowls with only your hands to eat. Bold of them to assume you didn’t know 21 ways to use the bowl if you truly desired to kill them. No one spoke to you, not even the healer who came in wordlessly the first night to treat your burns. You lay on your right side, staring up at the ceiling admiring the small light that came through the poor excuse of a window.

I wonder if Zemin was worried when I never came back. Would he be worried? No that’s a stupid question, of course not. If anything, he’d be annoyed that I damaged his reputation by getting caught… I still hope he got those gold pieces though, at least then I can slowly waste away in here knowing I don’t owe him any more money. Maybe he could finally fulfil his dream and go to Ba Sing Se. He used to always guilt me into learning a new form of fighting, groaning on about how he gave up the money he had to move there and start a new life with the woman he loved, to raise me. Idiot. He never had an obligation to raise me in the first place, I’m probably from nowhere, and my parents were probably mediocre people in the grand scheme of things. Who even were my-

Cutting off your train of thought, one of the guards walked up to the cell and unlocked it, another quickly grabbing your wrists, and latching them in chains. “The Fire Lord has ordered to speak with you.”

You crack a smirk, “Oh goodie, I think I’m ready for a rematch!”

“Shut it kid, you’re lucky he ordered that you can’t be disposed of… yet.”

Am I lucky? Being burnt alive and having access to a non- waterbending healer and a bowl of old rice is lucky? Oh great Spirits, thank you for gracing my life with these blessings from the great Fire Nation.

What. A. Load. Of. Shit.

Leading you to the palace, you make it into the throne room. At this point, you wanted to laugh at their efforts to scare you.

Really? Dark Lighting and a fire wall right in front of the throne you sit high and mighty? If only I were an Airbender, then I could huff and puff until you fall into the flames.

A guard standing near the Fire Lord is the first to speak. “Bow before your Fire Lord!”

Spitting on the ground, you look at Ozai in the eye. “I will never bow before you!”

He laughs.

“I know you are the one who killed one of my generals before the duel after acquiring your blade. It’s quite interesting how you managed to get to him without any bending, I must find and congratulate whoever your trainer was. Lucky for you though, the general was of no value to me and easy to replace. I will also show you mercy for what you did at the Agni Kai, only because it was my disgrace of a son you protected, and just like that general, not anyone truly valuable to the nation. Regardless of your crimes, you have already proven yourself a very great asset for a mere child. For that, I will grant you the ultimate freedom, free of any ties you have with the low lives outside of the Capital. Instead, you can directly serve your Fire Lord as my personal assassin. I will have the best swordsmen train you. Taking your abilities to new heights, you wouldn’t even begin to imagine for yourself. I will make you unstoppable. For a non-bender, that is.”

Based on the confident yet bored tone of his voice, you could easily assume he didn’t care. Yet his golden eyes narrow down towards your figure. Waiting. Testing to see if you dare defy his wishes. The offer is objectively easy. Technically, all he is asking of you is to do the same thing you’ve been raised to do, just under his allegiance.

Zuko flashes in your mind. Tears streaming down his face, and begging his father for mercy. “I will never kill for you! I would rather relive the burns you gave me every day than stand by your side!”

He sighs. “If that is what you wish. Maybe over time, you will learn what a great honour it is to be offered such an opportunity, let us meet again next week.”

The guards, as if they were expecting this, shoved you to your knees, ripped off the top you were wearing, and the bindings across your chest. Frozen as the warm air from the flames around you hit your chest, you were mortified. Knowing other guards present were intently watching you be humiliated in front of the Fire Lord, you forced yourself to control the urge to vomit the contents of your prison food on the floor. Quickly bringing your arms and hands to your chest, you winced at the sudden movement from your left arm.

Without any time to mentally prepare, both guards ignited streams of fire to your back. Instinctively you hunch over, attempting and failing to avoid the flames. Unbeknownst to you, everyone in the palace all the way to the kitchens, froze as your haunting screams echoed throughout its halls.

Through your tears and screams, you faintly heard the Fire Lord speak. “You will learn to agree, and you will comply.”

THREE MONTHS

Despite crying every time it happened, you became accustomed to the burnings every week you refused Ozai’s offer. You began to lose any emotional feeling when it happened, robotically going through each step.

They bring you to the throne room.

You say no.

You take off your shirt and bindings for yourself.

The guards burn you.

You cry.

Ozai watches you as if he had better things to do with his time.

Although today, hours after the ritual, you received your first guest that wasn’t a guard or a healer. You knew who they were after sensing them as they hid behind a pillar in the throne room every week. Sensing them through the body heat within them, a gift you always had since you were little. Theirs was crackled with so much anger and hatred; it was so unique to everyone in the palace, you barely had to think about it.

“What do I owe the pleasure of the one and only Fire Nation Princess being in my worthless presence?”

“Shut it scum!”

You let out a small laugh. “Ooo scum? That’s a lovely nickname, but honestly, a little bland, don’t you think? You ARE the Fire Nation princess after all, why not add a little spice to it?”

She didn’t seem to like that. “ENOUGH! You want spice?!” Shooting a streamline of fire from her fingertips, she shot at your head. Luckily enough, you weren’t in front of Ozai or defending her brother, so you swiftly dodged her shot.

Not giving her the satisfaction of retaliation, you sat in the middle of the cell, closing your eyes and crossing your legs. You began to meditate, trying to block out the irritating sense of fire within her.

She walked up to the bars, staring down on you. “I hope you know that my dear brother Zuzu won’t be coming back any time soon.”

This was the first time you’d heard about the Prince since the Agni Kai. She paused, waiting to see if she got a reaction out of you, but you were a trained assassin for Spirit’s sake, you had more control than that. Letting out a deep breath of air, you knew all you needed to do was stay calm.

“You do know what happened to him after you failed to protect him, don’t you? Oh! That’s right if I do recall correctly, you were so paralysed with what you had done, you didn’t even spare him a glance!” She let out a laugh as you remained still.

“Awww, yes! Poor Zuzu doesn’t even know what his ‘saviour’ looks like and he never will! You want to know why, scum?”

Not really but I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

“Because he will NEVER come back. He will NEVER step foot into the Fire Nation again because he was banished to capture the Avatar! It’s a bit ironic, don’t you think? All your pathetic little life, you have been KILLING to get out of here, gain your freedom, and you’re never going to get it. You’ll die in this cell. Yet, on the other hand, Zuzu wants nothing more than to come right home and stand by father’s side! That really does top it all off, doesn’t it, scum? You have trapped yourself here, to save someone who only just wants to come crawling right back. And if he ever did by some miracle, capture the Avatar? He would look you in the eyes and burn you himself for being such a traitor to this Nation.”

You tensed for a second, keeping your eyes closed you quickly regained composure. “Okay Azula, you’ve had your fun. That’s enough.”

She smirked with a sinister glint in her eyes. “You embarrassed him that day. You took away the little bit of dignity he could have had if you just let him get all his scars… Or at least let him die getting them.”

Enough.

“You will forever be a reminder of what should have been his. You’re going to die here for nothing.”

Enough.

“You thought you could do some good in this world? You were wrong! Your one poor excuse for saving someone’s life will always mean nothing! Zuko doesn’t care if you saved his life! He hates you! He hates you for taking away his dignity! You will die with him hating you! Your hope for doing good in this world means nothing because he is searching to take away the one thing that would end this war, even though they’re already dead!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH, AZULA!” Opening your eyes, they snapped from your usual e/c to a blinding golden light. The fire you trained for so long to control reached its tipping point and exploded from every pore in your body setting fire to anything in its wake. Azula rushed away from the bars of your cell as it melted around you. Feeling your hair raise in a halo of fire, you raised your right arm as a blast fired right next to her head. A warning shot.  

The guards outside of the cell who have been watching you since you were imprisoned, stared in shock. Not once had you shown any indication of being a fire bender.

Generally, in this state, you were unstoppable. A force even Zemin didn’t 100% know how to train, leaving you to your own devices. However, these weren’t normal circumstances. You have been tortured weekly, barely given any food or water and countless wounds that aren’t even close to being healed. After the sudden use of intense energy, you felt yourself passing out, allowing the guards to grab you quickly.

***

Groaning as if no time had passed, you found yourself chained up on a boat. “Am I going to be executed?” You weren’t sure if you were worried or hopeful at the possibility.

The female guard you knocked out on your first day in the palace sat next to you, letting out a sigh. “No, but you might as well be in your condition. You’re going to Boiling Rock, into The Cooler.”

SEVEN MONTHS

The guards came by the Cooler to deliver your food. They usually throw it to the ground and leave, but it seems today they received news that was too good to pass up the opportunity to torment you.

“Did you hear that kid? They tracked down your poor excuse of a trainer and killed him. Figured if the best he could produce was you, he wasn’t even worth sending to Boiling Rock.”

You remained curled up in the corner, unmoving as they laughed their way down the hallway. As their laughs slowly died down, you realised how pathetic you let yourself become.

Why did people have to keep dying because of you? You wanted to scream. Burn this stupid icebox down with your hands. Set the whole place to flames. But you were tired. So, so tired. You didn’t even have the energy anymore to cry when they burned you every week. Regularly being exposed to entirely polar elements began to fuck with your body. It didn’t know how to function anymore. Physically and mentally.

Despite being four months since your encounter with Azula, her words continued to spin in your mind every day. What seemed to break you the most was that you knew even if she were right, you’d do it again. If you could go back, you knew you would jump in front of him every time if it meant he was alive. Knowing he was far away from this hell hole brought you a weird sense of peace, regardless of if he was searching for the Avatar or not.

Unlike him, you weren’t far away from this wretched place. You were helpless.

Grabbing the old and cold bowl of rice, you finished your meal for the first time in three weeks.

EIGHT MONTHS

The guards walked in to take you to the palace for your weekly offer, and for the first time, you were already standing. After placing the chains to your wrists, they took you out of your cell just like they did every week. While travelling back to the Capital, you continuously persuaded yourself, this was the only way. You knew, deep down, this was the right choice. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

Entering the throne room, you make your way up to Ozai. Holding eye contact as the flames burn between you.

Bowing before him in the most traditional Fire Nation bow you can muster. You bring yourself back upright, stance and face stoic, contrasting the satisfied smirk on his face. For the first time, he doesn’t bother to make his offer.

“I am at your full service, and ready to comply my Fire Lord.”

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this or coming from my old blog!! please follow this one and stick around, I am currently working on the third chapter and a lil sokka oneshot :)) and to my taglist, i love you all, thank you all so much, i’m so sorry that you all have to deal with me rn and im so so sorry <3

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines​ @mangoberry43​ @eridanuswave​ @whiskeywinter89​ @callums-keith​ @kaylove12​ @simplyfandomish​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​

[giorgiastastes]

버닝 / Burning (2018)

"It's too close, you might not see it"

What to say about this movie...

The film itself is quite simple, even too easy at first sighting I'd dare to say, but the meaning behind, the interpretations and smart details is what makes it unique and pretty much a masterpiece.

I'm sure that most people, or at least those who usually watch unchallenging to elaborate movies, won't like it. If you're looking for something what will be "explained to you", for the director to give you that big plot twist or long monologue, you won't find it here. But if you want to watch a work of art that'll make you think, reflect and crash your minds, you have a good journey in front of you.

I remember that as soon as I've finished watching it I went online to look for theories, to see if someone else had the same idea as me, if I got it right and what I've missed, and then I planned to write here my thoughts on the real explaination, but after rewatching and searching I've figured it out BURNING doesn't really have a "true" explaination in my idea, or better, the director definitely knows what he believes is the so called truth, but the strength of it is how free of interpretations it is. I've read hundreds theories and honestly all of them could fit just right, so for once I've decided to do something different.

In here I will summarize all the theories, under layers and explaination that I've read, figured out or found, and I will leave to you, the reader, to believe your own "truth"

This will be full of spoilers, it's actually a summarization of the after watch, so read at your own risk, and since I'm taking for granted that you've watched the movie and remember it quite well too, I won't always repeat the plot when not necessary.

• Ben sells organs on the black market. That's how he gets his money and Haemi is aware of this, and decided to sell her own organs to pay off her debt. She even says I'D SELL MY ORGANS IF I WERE YOUNGER. She could also be unaware of this and that's why she dissapears.

• Ben is a serial killer. He seduces fragile women who are very easy preys to such an handsome and carismactic young man, and then gets rid of them after he gets tired. This happens about every couple of months, which corresponds to his journey in Africa timeline. They are the greenhouses he burns, because he knows nobody will look for them, and in fact the police does not care about the greenhouses, just like they don't care about missing women nobody knows about.

Ben also owns all the qualities of a maniac sociopath who's keen on control and feels no emotion or empathy. He never cries for example. He also feels pride in his crime and he's almost tempted to confess them to show how good he is. That's why he says to Jongsu that he will burn a greenhouse close to him, but he didn't mean it in a special terminology, but more like in an emotional sense. He will kill the the closest thing the other has, which is Haemi. He also states that she dissapeared like "smoke".

This would also be justified by the creepy call the protagonist receives by Haemi before she dissapears. The biggest evidence placed by the director to prove that this theory is the most correct one is in the last scene, where Ben is putting makeup on a new girl. For a non Korean speaker it's quite hard to get the reference but Makeup and corpses' cremation are spelled in the same way in the hangul language, therefore the movie showing us Ben doing the girl's makeup is the alternative way to say he's killed her and is now cremating the body, hence his obsession with fires.

He's the one who cleaned Haemi's room and took her cat. He also keeps his victims personal objects as a throphy of some sort.

• Ben is a pimp. He's the trainer for these beautiful, young but poor women who are ready to sell themselves when he convinces them to do so. This is shown as Haemi also become less and less shy as the movie goes on, as seen in the undressing scene, while being more bold and provocative too. He changed her drastically, or maybe only let her discover a different, more free, part of herself. He also applies makeup on them how he would do to a doll, playing dress up for a woman who's now becoming just an object of desire that can be bought.

• Ben is a human trafficker. He sends women into slavery while promising them a life of luxury and happiness. That's why he shows off his idyllic lifestyle, and then sells them in Africa (where he goes frequently), where they'll never be found.

• Ben is a life guru. He teaches unsecure and frustrated women to feel liberated and less oppressed, to leave it all behind and start from scratch. They pay him, that's why he's rich. He also keeps a "souvenir" of every woman he has turned. This could explain why he shows up to the meeting with Jongsu in the finale. If he actually killed or sold these women he wouldn't fall into the other man's trick.

• Ben doesn't exist. He's just the symbol of everything Jongsu is not but aspires to be. He's rich, confident, cultured and attractive. Every flaw and layer of insecurity Jongsu seems to have, Ben lacks. And in the end, when the protagonist finally becomes brave enough to mature, to actually chase the woman he loves, he's able to kill the shadow of himself that only reminded him of how miserable he was.

• Ben and Jongsu are the same person. Much Fight Club like, they're the same human being, just different, extreme sides of one. Jongsu could have a personality disorder or maybe we're just shown two sides of him that prove his mental health issues. That's also why Haemi seems to be involved with both of them without choosing a side, because one is the gentle but insecure fraction, the other the bold but arrogant one. And then, in the end, when such division is making him go insane, he decides to kill his alter ego.

• It's just a love triangle. One of my favorite songs of all time had a similar topic. There's the main character, a shy and quiet boy, who falls in love with a girl who feels foreign and unreachable to him. But he's not the only one in her life. She also has another lover who's much more attractive and manly in a way, and all three start to share this peculiar poliamorous love story, mostly platonic. She's very pretty and feels as free as Venus, torn between two men. Then one day she leaves, and she'll never come back. But while the second boy easily moves on with his life, figuring out it was just a näive fling, the singer remains stuck, obsessing over her day and night, trying to find answers and solutions just not to deal with the realization of her not loving him enough to stay.

• Every character represents a social stereotypes and criticism of modern South Korean classes. I think this is very straightforward, especially Jongsu's jealousy of Ben's wealth, and Haemi's attempt to RISE in the social pyramid, surrounding herself with high class people like Ben or his friends, even letting them make joke of her, to mock her, all of it just to feel part of their group and reality.

• It's all in Jongsu's head.

• The disappearance of Haemi, whether it happened or not or HOW it happened are not the main focus on the movie, which instead is the characters dealing with such loss and lack of knowledge on what happened. Much like the Russian movie Loveless (2017), where the event is only used as an artistical device to let the story progress and the characters' grief culminate. Maybe we really don't need to know what happened to her, maybe she's dead, maybe she's alive and better than ever, but to the movie's intent such information is superficial, it's just the human need to fill our curiosity when were too afraid to deal with the pain of remaining unaware of it. Jongsu is sure she's been killed and that brings him to his next move, but the viewer, he doesn't need to know, because he doesn't need to act, to keep the story going.

• Haemi might have killed herself. Ben is the only one who knows about this and that's why she gives him her cat. She also shows multiple signs of advanced depression, for more than half of the movie is almost like she's not there, like she's already just the memory, the ghost of a girl who once was there.

• The movie itself is just a metaphor. The metaphor is many times used by the characters and maybe not only as a word, part of a dialogue, but the overall film might be A BIG, CRIPTIC METAPHOR.

• Everything is hereditary. From family's fortunes and richness to behavior and inner rage. Jongsu was born poor and will die as such just like his father, and even though he seems like the most innocuous being, he's able to take out his rage on other just like this father. I guess it's in the genes.

• Jongsu is the calf. The calf represents Jongsu's pureness and naivety. And when he sells it, he's also selling his soul in a way.

• Haemi represents South Korea, Jongsu North Korea, Ben is the new Korea, the one always more and more Westernized.

• We're just reading the plot of Jongsu's book. When Haemi leaves for Africa he has plenty of time to write the story he's planning to put into words, and that's what he does. Everything we see after she comes back from her journey is just the plot of the book, and the creation of Jongsu's imagination.

• A modern reinterpretation of the Great Gatsby. Yes, obviously a VERY liberate view of the novel, but many details seem to be quite evocative.

• A criticism to how South Korea treats women. Even the movie itself does this, probably on purpose. The one who disappears is a woman, but the ones who are the main centre of attention are men. She's only a story device, never the real protagonist.

• Ben wanted Jongsu to discover his crimes so he could reach fame if the other ever made a book out of it. He's so full of himself he'd rather be punished for his crimes than never showing off how good he was at covering every proof. That's why he dies almost peacefully, and shed a tear, which he claimed to have never done before.

• The well Haemi reference to, symbolizes falling into prostitution. That's why Jongsu's mother knows about it too, since it's quite obvious she's now an escort. But she states the well is dry, as a way of saying that it's not how easy and fun it might seem.

• This is just the tragic story of a boy who's lost every possible source of love. From his father in jail, his mother who abandoned him, to the only girl that ever showed him affection disappearing, and a new friend who he decides to kill.

• Ben is Death or maybe the devil personified. He helps Haemi get the courage to end it one for all, and even pushes Jongsu to kill, cursing his soul.

[pellucidity-is-me]

Did it Hurt the Pig?

Summary: Remus has a very important question about Transfiguration as it pertains to living things. This is from chapter 23 in my longer fanfiction (Flirting with Ghosts), and I figured it would work as a very sad little one-shot. Link in bio description if you want to read the whole thing.

Wordcount: 1441

Remus loved Hogwarts.

His friends—yes, he had actual, real-live friends—were named James and Sirius, and they each accumulated two detentions before double Transfiguration that afternoon. They were troublemakers, and now they seemed to be drunk on mischief. 

Remus had not known that mischief was alcoholic, but he seemed to be a bit tipsy himself. He had laughed so hard in the past couple of hours that his head felt buzzy and his brain felt light. He’d never laughed this hard—not ever.

The Marauders ambled down the corridor, casually bumping into each other and joking as they went, and then took their seats in Transfiguration. They sat next to each other, as usual, and the feeling of being so close and casual with his friends was pure euphoria in Remus' eyes. Nothing could spoil it—though Remus knew that saying such a phrase, even in his own head, was bound to be awful foreshadowing. "That toad of yours—wouldn't it be great if he found himself in the bed of a first-year girl one morning?" asked James with glee.

Remus, who loved his pet toad very much, immediately sobered. He'd been right; it had been foreshadowing. "No. You are not using Bufo to prank people. They might squish him."

"You're no fun," Sirius pouted.

"Least I don't mumble to myself about what an amazing person I am when I fly broomsticks."

James groaned and punched Remus' arm lightly. "You are an awful person, Remus Lupin," he said, and Remus began to feel tipsy again.

"All right, settle down," said McGonagall sharply. Remus stopped giggling (with much effort). "Today we are going to be discussing transforming living things," continued McGonagall: "Watch carefully, now."

She pulled her wand out from her robes and pointed it at her desk. The desk seemed to pulse and twist—less than two seconds later, it had fully transformed into a living, breathing pig. James gasped a little from Remus' right. Remus gasped too, but for a very different reason. His head was beginning to get buzzy again... and laughter was no longer the cause of his symptoms.

McGonagall waved her wand again, and then the pig was once more a desk. "Brilliant," James muttered. McGonagall heard him, but she granted him a tight, pleased smile instead of reprimanding him.

Remus felt a little ill.

"We won't be doing anything like this until the end of the year, when we transform mice to snuffboxes," said McGonagall. "Living transfigurations are extraordinarily difficult. I'd like to discuss the theory, though. Open your textbooks to page eighty-one."

Remus did not move.

"Come on, Rem," said James. He reached over and flipped Remus' textbook open for him. "Are you ill or something? This is so cool!"

Remus did not think so.

McGonagall lectured and wrote on the board in chalk; Remus heard James scribbling notes on a piece of parchment fervently and Sirius teasing James for taking notes like a "dumb schoolgirl". Remus was amazed that he could hear anything, though, given the ocean noises dominating his ears.

The image of the poor pig, his legs folding in, his bones melting and reforming, his whole body turning to wood in the span of a few seconds, the odd liquifying of his pink body... it would not leave Remus' vision.

He vaguely heard McGonagall stop lecturing. "Mr. Lupin, are you quite all right?"

Remus shook his head to rid it of the ocean noises. He realized too late that it had seemed that he had been shaking his head no to McGonagall's question.

"What's wrong, then?" McGonagall asked.

"Er," said Remus. He needed to ask. He needed to ask without giving himself away, but he didn't know how. "Er, Professor..." He tried to come up with just the right phrasing, but the quest was fruitless. It was useless. Remus decided—against his better judgement—to throw caution to the wind.

"Did that hurt the pig?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed, and Sirius snickered under his breath. Remus realized that Sirius thought that he was joking; trying to waste time so that the class would have to do less work... Remus decided that Sirius' assumption was better than the alternative, so he let a weak laugh of his own escape his lips. It sounded very forced, much to his chagrin.

McGonagall's features suddenly softened, and Remus hoped with all his heart that she did not realize why he was asking. Oh, who was he kidding? Of course she realized why he was asking! In the eyes of the Hogwarts staff, the fact that Remus transformed into a wolf every month was his defining trait.

"No," said McGonagall slowly.

"How do you know?" Remus said, pushing his luck. He had to know. "I mean, it's got to hurt. Pigs' skin isn't meant to turn into wood. Pigs are very different from desks... their bone structure and all. And desks are inanimate objects. Why wouldn't it hurt? Pigs are... pigs. Not desks..."

Remus mentally slapped himself. Here he was, admitting to McGonagall that the transformation every month was literally torture. He felt his cheeks grow red, and the ocean noises returned with vigor. "Just... just wondering, that's all," he said, and faked another laugh in order to keep his cover in front of his peers. He didn't think that it had worked, but perhaps...?

McGonagall seemed to be thinking very hard. "That... is a good question, Lupin. Compassionate, and with sound reasoning." At long last, she looked him in the eyes, and Remus looked away in spite of himself. "Ten points to Gryffindor." It seemed that all the points that Remus was receiving for Gryffindor were out of pity. Remus felt ashamed, even though he knew that shame wasn't the proper response to earning points for his House.

"I think I can take a few minutes to explain the answer." McGonagall walked up to the blackboard and erased it as she spoke. "There are a few different types of magic, as you've learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. There's light magic, and then there's jinxes, hexes, and... curses." Remus noted her hesitation and tapped his finger under his desk anxiously.

"Transfiguration spells are known as light magic purely because they are not harmful in nature. They do not hurt the transformee because they are designed as such. Spell design is a complicated process, as is the process of transfiguration itself. It takes much focus and intention; painful unintended consequences, therefore, are very rare. We will only use light magic in this class, Lupin. You don't have to worry about any of the spells harming the recipient in any way—in fact, I go through all of the incorrectly-transformed animals myself after every class and correct the transfiguration. No animals will ever be harmed in my class... unless a student is not careful and steps on a beetle during our beetle-to-buttons unit in second year. That has, I'm afraid, happened before."

Some of the students giggled. Remus knew that they were laughing at the beetle comment, but he felt as if they were laughing at him... he sunk lower in his chair ever so slightly. He hated talking about—or even alluding to—his transformations. "That makes sense, Professor; thank you."

McGonagall was now carefully studying Remus' face, which was even worse than the previous awkward avoidance. Remus tried to look nonchalant. After a very uncomfortable moment (that was probably less than three seconds, but felt like three hours), James raised his hand. "So there are types of transfiguration that are Dark, and do hurt the subject?" he asked, and Remus froze. He mentally begged McGonagall to avoid the subject. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he would discover himself to be a Legilimens....

"Yes, Mr. Potter, but we will not be learning about such magic in this class," she said. "I don't believe that magic like that is ever acceptable. Most Dark Transfigurations, though, work by... by forcing the recipient to transform without magic... as a biological process, rather than a magical one. It is complicated, and you may research it on your own if you so desire."

Remus winced. I've done enough practical research to last me a lifetime, thanks.

"Thank you for the excellent question, Lupin. Have I satisfied your curiosity?"

"Yes, Professor," Remus said quietly. "I do believe that I shall be able to transform pigs to desks morally from now on."

The class tittered, and Professor McGonagall allowed herself a forced smile before continuing the lesson.

Remus vaguely wanted to transfigure himself into a pig. The life of a pig, he thought, would be much simpler than that of a werewolf.

[dawniebb]

Closure pt. 4

I already want to get rid of this so...yeah. This is the last chapter, and it’s about Honey; for those who don’t know, this is a little series about grief, from the canon divergence I share with @healing-winston-pratt. This is the last chapter in the collection :)

You can use this post as a masterlist; you will also find the link to the canon divergence explanation there: https://dawniebb.tumblr.com/post/627798366140694528/closure-pt-3

Tag list: @novadreamer95438 @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @novas-tunnel-of-anxiety @obsidianfr3sk

-.-

Honey

Whispers

You said it was a wasted promise I thought it was a waste of time You said it was the perfect crime

Nova turned the car’s engine off and leaned her back against the backrest, turning her gaze up towards the ceiling. A few seconds after that, she closed her eyes.  

She then tried to enter into a full silence zone, until the outside noises started coming through the closed windows, letting her know that it was time; so, straightening her posture, Nova reached for the brown paper bag she was carrying in the backseat, before proceeding to take the bouquet of flowers that was driving with her in the passenger’s seat, leave the car and start heading out.

She hadn’t been in Gatlon’s cemetery many times, but given that she had a pretty good sense of location, she trusted she wouldn’t see herself in the need to go back to the entrance and ask the gatekeeper for directions; besides, it wasn’t like getting lost were that easy, taking into account what was it that she was looking for. After all, the zone she was heading to seemed to shine under the light of a spotlight.

They were called the Fallen Ones. Renegades and, ever since a couple of years ago, Anarchists; Renegades and Anarchists whose lives had been taking during battle; martyrs; Cragmoor inmates who had been proven to be innocent when it was already too late; civilians who hadn’t survived the Second Battle for Gatlon…all of those people that Nova had lend her voice to, once she convinced the Council everyone had the same right to speak as them.

Even those who were already gone.

If she hadn’t spoken up, maybe these people would still be in the “regular” area of the cemetery, or in the common pit.

The second gate, which led to the Aisle of the Fallen, was always open to the public, for those who had a loved one who rested there or the…curious ones who enjoyed necroturism.

When Nova stepped into the stone pathway, she not only felt she was entering a different cemetery, but a completely different world instead; like an alternative universe where death was considered a very long, well-deserved nap and a temporary goodbye, instead of a reason to cry and mourn.

Despite being overshadowed by the mausoleum Georgia Rawles and Evander Wade shared, the rest of the headstones managed to catch Nova’s eye, with their vivid colors and their pure aura, materialized in white marble; others were rather austere and modest…but there were some others, like the ones who belonged to Renegades who were no longer among the living, that even got to the point to have statues (Genissa Clark’s, for example), and were surrounded by fresh and healthy-looking flowers, helium balloons, letters and even significant objects, like plushies, books or other stuff.

With a sudden bittersweet taste in her mouth, Nova kept walking through that trail that, more than looking like a cemetery, it looked like Walk of Fame.

A gust of wind brought the overwhelming and cloying odor of flowers, and Nova couldn’t decide whether she was nauseous or just dizzy, so she elected to ignore that sensation and found some comfort in the sound of her soles hitting against the crushed stone.

After a while, she moved into the back of the Aisle of the Fallen, where the newest graves were being displayed. The spot around Georgia and Evander’s mausoleum.

For the first time, she managed to confirm that what she was feeling was nausea; although, a different type of nausea from the one she had been feeling the last couple of weeks; it was easy for her to discern that, this time, she was intoxicated by insanely high levels of adrenaline, as she felt, from one moment to another, how nothing about seemed fitting or adequate for this situations; she wasn’t wearing pretty clothes, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, she wasn’t wearing the right shoes, she hadn’t even brushed her hair; she didn’t look…presentable.

Nevertheless, she was already here, and she refused to leave.

As she got closer, her steps became slower, as if she were driving a car and was trying to avoid a big hole she had spotted in the distance, but fortunately (or unfortunately), she managed to get to her destination, and there she was.

Or at least, what was left of her in the living world (that is, in case another world existed).

Suddenly, the air became scarce and Nova just remained there, looking at her, at the same time her hand was tightening around the bouquet, reminding her why was she there in the first place. Thus, before she fully regretted having come here in the first place, she carefully got on her knees and gulped.

For a moment, Honey Harper’s headstone seemed to be greeting here back when she did, with a small, solemn head motion.

Nova had contributed with the money for that headstone, along with Winston and Leroy; but, unlike them, she had refused to see the finished product until today. More than ten years later.

Given the fact this was the headstone for an Anarchist as important as her, it didn’t get half of the attention the Renegades’ ones got, as Anarchists were generally conceived as something bad and not worth remembering; however, janitors were still requested to clean it and let Leroy or Winston know when it needed some type of reparation. For instance, it was safe to say it was in a good condition.

Taking into account what Honey would have wanted, they chose a bee-shaped stained glass, ornamented with a subtle and small crown by its head; it shone under the sunlight, and Nova, wholeheartedly, hoped that would cover the cold simplicity of the inscription where, written in italic letters, could be read:

Honey Harper. “Queen Bee”.

Anarchist.

That was it.

No emotional message added; no “And when the world needed a Queen, there was you” or “You will be missed”; not even a hypocritical “A great Anarchist, peer and mother”.

Mother?

Was there any possibility Honey would’ve liked that?

Did Honey ever consider herself to be that?

Nova didn’t know. Her therapist hadn’t had the answer for that either. And since she didn’t seem to be able to find it by herself, she had given up…because, in the end, the only person who could actually answer that was a few feet below the ground Nova was kneeling on.

Nervous, she licked her own lips and, consequently, pulled them apart, speaking in a voice that didn’t sound like hers at all. Not even when she heard it in her own head.

“I’m making a comeback…and I brought you roses, because they’re super dramatic like you.” She said, putting the bouquet in front of the headstone as if she were offering a sacred object. “But…they’re in white and yellow…without sunflowers, though…because for some reason I completely forgot sunflowers have your favorite colors in them.”

If she wanted to be honest, she considered it to be a pretty cute bouquet, with the same colors a bee had and everything…

Still, she wasn’t lying when she said she had forgotten about the existence of sunflowers. Bringing sunflowers could’ve been way easier…but, again, she hadn’t had a clue until she left the flower shop and saw a bouquet of sunflowers displayed outside.

“I don’t know.” Nova scratched her own arm. “…maybe you didn’t like sunflowers because they’re funny and sort of…me…yeah.”

She bit her lip.

“You would’ve compared me to a sunflower, now that I think about it.” She told the headstone. “You did call me a cute drone once, so…if you’re a rose then I must be a…equally cute but… more…alternative flower, I guess…”

As the nervous laugh started escaping her mouth, Nova decided it was time to remain in silence for a couple of seconds, until she recovered her will.

She wasn’t good at talking, let alone making monologues…but, in the end, she continued what she had started.

“You used to say I was a rough one.” She said, gulping. “And I never said anything because…you weren’t wrong. But maybe you were too… I mean, you were. Absolutely. You demolished a government and that stuff…But I guess you were too…too you to find other adjectives to describe other people. And, like, you had everything I still have to live without to this day…and after all, that was just you. Not that you …awful…”

She chuckled involuntarily.

“…attitude was fine. But we were used to it.”

Nova started at the headstone, waiting for a signal that, of course, never came. And, after sighing, Nova reached for the paper bag, and took the honey jar from it.

“Lately…” She began, still holding it between her hands, gently. “I’ve been drinking a lot of tea… but when I first started drinking it, I needed honey to sweeten it…but you’re no longer here, so I looked everywhere throughout Gatlon until I came across this…organic store in the downtown market. Turns out the owner runs a honey farm, and that’s where I’ve been getting my honey from. It doesn't taste the same, but it’s a little close...way closer than the one from the supermarket, I must say and I… I don’t know why I brought it here because you didn’t like to share your honey but you went apeshit every time somebody brought honey from the street to the tunnels…but I guess that…I don’t know. That’s just what I’ve been up to.”

After that last sentence, she placed the jar next to flowers, and once she saw both things together, next to each other, she felt like an idiot.

However, she also noticed they didn’t look that bad.

In that moment, she became speechless, as if that scene had been enough to shatter and destroy the willpower she had managed to accumulate, and the sound had abandoned her body. She felt intimidated.

But, once again, she refused to run away.

Nova didn’t run away, because that was what she had been taught, and also what she had been reminding herself through all these years; she stayed there, with her hands still on her lap, observing the glass bee that stood in front of her; the same bee that, for a moment, looked like Honey herself, imitating Nova’s posture like a mirror that reflected everything Nova had been after Ace took everything from her.

Being conscious it was nothing but a fantasy of what she desired to see, Nova fought the urge to touch Honey Harper, who was staring back at her with a neutral expression; her perfect skin; her bouncy, shiny blonde curls; her sharp nails with shimmering nail polish, and the sweet smell emanating from her body.

Honey Harper was gone in a blink, as fast as she had appeared, but Nova’s gaze remained fixated in the spot where she had previously been.

“The trigger…is one of the heaviest things I’ve ever had to pull.” She said in a low, hoarse voice. “And…If I’m being honest, I’ll never be able to understand how you guys did it so…easily. “

So then, before she had time to regret it or reconsider it, Nova held her hand forward, until she was able to touch the bee, forcing the words she had been keeping for herself for years to come out.

“I don’t know where you went, Honey. Or if…you went anywhere at all.” She lowered her gaze, only to lift her head up again a couple of seconds later.

“But I hope you know that you hurt me, and I hurt you…but it’s all forgiven. So I hope you can forgive me too.”

Heart pounding, Nova caressed the inscription.

“You were out of control. Someday you’ll understand.”

Being that said, she tried to shake the dreadful sensation out of her body and got on her feet, taking the dust off her jeans with her palms.

“I l…” Nova closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. “I...I’ll see you later.”

Hoping her broken voice had gone unnoticed, Nova turned around.

She waited until she was far enough from Honey’s headstone, in the privacy of her car, to use her empty arms to hold herself; she had come into terms with the fact she had no more tears to shed from that night at the cathedral, but she still teared up a bit.

Then, as she felt the closure her heart had been pleading to have, she finally managed to smile a little, as the position of her arms changed, moving towards her belly.

Deep down, through the unknown itch and the foreign feeling of freedom, a thought crossed her mind. About how Honey always claimed to be able to know when a woman was expecting just by staring into her eyes.

And for some reason, it seemed funny to her.

Maybe, when her baby bump was a little more noticeable, she would come back to visit and tell her all about it.

[heartless-error]

Dreams

Fandom: DC, Batman

Pairing: Jason Todd x Tim Drake (JayTim)

Rating: Explicit, sexual themes, NSFW

Other link(s): AO3

Once it's a chance, twice is a coincidence and third time is a pattern. Rather a problem, at least for Jason.

He hadn't been surprised the first time it happened, if he was honest with himself he could have seen that coming, given how betrayed and blessed equally he felt when he returned to Gotham and couldn't look away from Tim Drake.

But one thing was dreaming about fucking Tim couple of times and other was dream's world reminding him every night about the sexual and romantic unresolved tension between them.

He just wanted to explode things, dammit.

Dreams

The first time it happened, Jason was not really surprised.

It was, in a certain way, but if he was honest with himself it was something that he could have been expected. Especially considering how his eyes had been glaring almost instinctively toward the object of his desires and the events that have been occurred in the recent months since his return to Gotham.

 At the beginning he was not even aware of what and who was dreaming exactly, but the dream was recreating slowly in a haze which seemed to have darkened his surroundings.

 The world had gone off around him and his partner, he didn’t know where he was or if he should worry about whether the bed in which he was, was his or not, but he doesn’t care at all and if the owner of the room doesn’t care about the clothes scattered around the room, he neither. Especially when he just wanted to feel more of the sensations the other body just gave him at his mercy, his warmth, his movements and how they melt on the sheets enjoying the carnal act.

 It was desperate, impatient, brutal, how they attacked the other, how they felt and swung their bodies in sync seeking their own pleasure. And as their hands caressed firmly each extension of available skin, lips met with passion in deep and impatient kisses, the temperature rose and the breathing quicken, Jason felt a tug on his chest, a feeling between need and ... relief?

 He couldn’t know.

 But he wanted more, more, more.

 He wanted to leave more hickeys, kisses and licks in that small but muscular body, in that scarred and marked skin, perfect at his eyes. He wanted to feel how the person under him shudder and sigh for his touch, moaning because of their hips rubbing against each other in a pleasant frenzy.

 More.

 Faster, stronger, more groans, more pleasure. More of everything.

 “J-Jason… Jason…”

 It was breathed in his ear while strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and a firm leg hooked around his waist. Fingernails raking into his back, that body melting into his touch, making Jason shudder, shake and feel liberated, free, wild.

Slowly he started to know, he knew, he realized it already, who it was and what he wanted from him.

 How much time he had been waiting for this?

 Feeling hazy, Jason ran his fingers around those abs, touching softly those hickeys he had done willingly and drowning in lust in the way the other mewled. He shoved a hand between their legs desperately to stroke their lengths together and starts a firmly sway, inhaling sharply as listened the other person bite a moan.

 God.

 How long he wanted to do this?

 “Jay!”

 He wasn’t sure, but he wants him, he wants him so so much. His whole body was screaming, shaking for him. He wants to mark him, possess him, make him his own, make him scream his name in pleasure again and again until his voice breaks, until he clenches and collapse. Make his brilliant and always perfect brain a complete mess.

 Fuck, he wants him.

 And without stopping that pleasant swing, he raised the other hand to stroke the black hair that had grown again, so smooth, so soft, pulling it back to expose his neck and sank his teeth to leave a rough bite.

 His, all his. For him and nobody else.

 He wants to shout it, proclaim it. Because he knew, he already knew.

 Whose body was this, who was this person. How much he wants to feel him, ruin him, fuck him deeply and incoherently, scream his name in moans and makes him tremble in ecstasy in the same way he was doing just by listening to him.

 Releasing that hair, his hand caress those swollen, red lips, with a clear idea of ​​what he wanted to do next. Which it was immediately understood and put in practice when the other started to suck his fingers as if it were the most succulent dish they had ever seen.

 “Oh, shit… You...” Jason couldn’t help to gasp at that sight.

 Heat eradicated all rational though and at this point he might think that what ran through his body was pure lava. But his brain was a complete mess when the other opened his eyes, when he saw those damn eyes.

 His fucking eyes.

 Those baby blue, almost like ice, were given him the most sinful and provocative look Jason had never seen, with that hunger smile on that angel face. A demon in disguise, making him sweat, shaking his whole world from the inside.

 “¡Tim!” He cried out almost on the edge of ecstasy. “B-Baby bird... Ti- “

 And then he woke up.

 Confused, dazed, tangled in the sheets of his security home’s bed and hornier than he remembers ever having been.

 “Oh.” He said simply, realizing what had happened.

 He could have pretended to be surprised, or think about it, but it was late, he didn’t have to respond to anyone, he was tired, sweaty, his erection needed immediate attention and his brain wasn’t want to think deeply about what the best dream he had in years meant when i was still fresh in his mind.

 So, that night Jason decided to live the moment and took care of his problem between his legs.

 And if he jacked off thinking about Tim Drake and ended crying out his name in the sheets, well, that’s something nobody had to know.

  ~ 0.0 ~

 Nobody had to know, which was fine.

 But he knew it, which was wrong.

 Not only because Tim is legally his little brother, or the third Robin, or Bruce’s perfect soldier, or Gotham’s golden boy, or the person who he tried to kill several times -almost some success over the years-, or those thousands reasons why Jason knew, really knew, it was a little (just a little) wrong to look at Tim in that way.

 No.

 It was because now he couldn’t forget about it too.

 Because after that dream, it was as if a small switch which had been laid in the dark corners of his twisted mind had been pressed, as if a dam had collapsed and all that thoughts that had been behind it had leaked out of control.

 And he couldn’t stop them.

 In his poor and useless defense, he couldn’t have stopped them even if he had realized their existence before. How the fuck he would have known that his Babybird would grow up like that? While he was gone, puberty hit Tim Drake with the strength of three angry Banes, and once the kid got rid of Robin’s suit, grew a few inches (two or three maximum), the lifetime training made effect on his body and his young face was no longer similar to a baby seal, the intelligent and lethal Red Robin was born, whose face was pretty even with the black mask on and that red, tight uniform showed every little and important detail -his ass, he is talking about his ass- that neither him nor the rogues in Gotham should stare.

 But they did, how could they not? Jason had felt betrayed and blessed equally when he returned Gotham and was welcomed by a greater and an incredibly attractive vision of the little and clumsy boy he tried to kill.

 “Got something?” He asked indifferently as he watched Tim navigates databases to find something new about the case they were working together.

 Tim’s penthouse was a mess, like always, and the number of cups of coffee scattered around could be considered indecent and dangerous, but at least was comforting to know that all was not perfect and pristine in the boy. And although Jason was desperate at the beginning knowing how live his replacement, he had already reached the point where they had worked so many time together to let him go and resigned to the fact that Alfred was the only one to do such miracles in the family.

 “Wait.” Tim said totally concentrated, almost ignoring him.

 Well, it’s not personal, he already knows when Tim focus on something he couldn’t stop until it’s finish. He’s like a bloodhound, relentless and stubborn.

 But at the same time, it was annoying.

 Quite annoying, because Jason has been struggling to control certain thoughts about Tim these days, something difficult when Tim is the most unconscious human being of the earth. He really didn’t seem to notice the way he smelled, how he arched in his seat to pay attention at work, how he bites his lower lip in concentration and his eyes sparkled with determination as his uniform highlight every curve and tight muscle of his firm and small body.

 God yes, he’s small. But so dangerous.

 Jason likes that, and maybe he’s just whipped, but he was proud for being so perceptive.

 “What if I bite him?” He though as he fixed his gaze on Tim’s nape, which was partially covered by his dark hair, but not enough to reveal how much the kevlar suit cover above.

 What would be his reaction if he did? If he marked him without any warning and inhale his scent? He would get pissed? Would he look at him with that furious and cold gaze? As much as he likes to tease Timmy because of him reactions, in his dreams he shuddered, moaned and seemed to want more.

 But this was not a dream, of course. And consent is sexy too.

 Even if he wanted to live that dream so much.

 His thoughts were interrupted when those baby blue met his and Tim got up from his seat.

 “I have something. Come on, Hood.” He said as diligent as ever and going to get what was left of his uniform.

 And while Jason was recovering himself, joking and trying to tease Red Robin a little during the patrol, he pretended with that jerk smile of him not to look at that body and appreciate it in the distance.

 Again, his ass.

 “I will get over this.” He tried to convince himself as he follows Red Robin across the buildings, ready to kick out some bad guys tonight to get off his frustrations. “I’m sure.”

 This crush, desire, attraction or whatever he had for Tim now, he will get over it. For sure.

 He has to.

 ~ 0.0 ~

 He couldn’t.

 Moreover, it was worse than ever.

 Because in one way to another they had found out that they were a very good team, which means they started to work together more often, and because they were in field together more frequently, they trusted the other more easily. And the more they trusted each other more down were their guard, and the more they lowered their guard, more comfortable were around the opposite. And were comfortable together meant more cases, more fights covering their backs, more dinners in the roofs, more internal jokes, more movie nights on one of their safe house’s couch in pajamas and popcorn, more training together and remove their uniform and mask when they were alone to eat, laugh or talk.

 Confidence sucks, Jason was sure.

 Especially when that confidence grew up that unresolved sexual tension between them.

 Jason knew he wasn’t the only one, it was mutual. Of course he knew it, he had never been so proud of discover something in his life. And because of the time he had been looking at Tim, he ended up noticing how his Babybird looked at him too when he thought he wasn’t attentive.

 Discreet glances in the cave’s showers or when they wear off their uniforms, prudent touches in any situation that triggered that electricity around them, a flirt that went noticed by the others, teasing jokes, little blushes of one, fantasies of the other, the constant approach and the change of atmosphere when they were together and into their own world.

 “He knows?” Jason asked himself as he looked slightly the guy next to him, trying not to seem too distracted to the film they had chosen to see that night.

 Did Tim knew?

 What he caused? What his approached caused him?

 Now his dreams were more frequent and imaginative, and jerk off his frustrations or kick bad guys was not so effective than before when his mind tells him all nights how good it would be if he grabbed Tim right now, kissed him until he was shivering and whimpering on his lap and fucked him on the couch until he passed out.

 Or on the floor.

 Or the kitchen counter.

 Or the Batcomputer’s board.

 Or Bruce’s office desk.

 Or even on the bed, he could be traditional sometimes.

 It wasn’t healthy to think those things when the object of his apparently now irrepressible sexual libido was right beside him, but lately he also had found himself fantasizing awake and it was that or keep wondering if Tim was aware of what was happening between them.

 Because even if he’s still the most unconscious man on earth, he’s the second-best detective in the world. And throughout these months he has come to possess the strange skill to read him like an open book and understand each of his insults and bad jokes.

 Without realizing it, he looked at the dark-haired boy again. And what was his surprise when he met Tim’s blue eyes in the process, both looking away as soon as possible, as if they hadn’t caught glaring each other in a needy way.

 What was he thinking? Of course Timmy knows, even a dick would realize.

 The question is, what will they do about it?

 Because they had a rough past and Jason is not exactly a being of light, it’s not the best option for Tim, he’s aware of that. And getting along with Tim didn’t mean he was in good terms with the rest of the bats, and especially these days when he had been receiving several threatening and inquisitive looks from Dick and Bruce because of his constant flirt and tease with Tim-Tam, even a… warning? from the Demon’s spawn accompanied by a pair of batarangs directed to his head.

Precisely, the last was the most surprising, who would say the demon child would be protective over Tim? Life is a ride. Or maybe it was because Damian saw himself as the only being with the right to hurt Tim. What would he know about those two relationship, uh?

 But it’s a bad idea, he and Tim, it’s the worst of ideas. Even Jason, who is an expert in bringing out bad ideas, know how bad this idea is.

 But then he looks at Tim again, looks how his eyes pretending to be fixed on the screen, his pout, his legs crossed on the couch, his neck and shoulder exposed because of the ridiculously large shirt (wait, it’s his?), his relaxed posture which is slightly turned toward him, his calm expression and his hips.

 He thinks about how he could hold him without any effort, lift him and take him wherever he wants to possess him, ride his hands over that figure, rip that shirt and eat him alive. Dear god, Tim would moan, he would scream his name, he would make those crystalline eyes look at him with lust and need while his voice breaks because of pleasure. He wants to discover his weak points, where he had to kiss for a sigh, where he had to lick for a groan, how far he could go, how far he could touch him to drive him crazy. Does his blush just stay on his cheeks? Or it would also lower his neck, his chest? He would know, he would know everything if it happened.

 If it happened…

 It would be a one-time thing?

 No, he wanted more, more.

 Their eyes met again and this time nobody looked away. The movie was still playing at the background, the dawn in Gotham was starting behind them, the popcorn’s bowl was forgotten, and the couch was uncomfortable as ever. Jason swallowed hard, Tim settled better into his seat, one sank closer, the other too, their shoulders brushed, and someone stared at the other’s lips, eyes saying something that their mouths couldn’t let out, not yet at least.

 Are they sure that sexual tension is the only thing between them?

 Of course not, they should also do something about the unresolved romantic tension.

 Jason was the one who finally looked away, letting out a sigh.

Because dreaming and fantasizing about fucking Tim was one thing, which didn’t surprise him at first. But dreaming and fantasizing about making love to him, enjoy his body as a lover and kiss him for hours during one of those movie nights without do anything else, was something else, and this surely surprised him.

 He will get over it?

 Maybe not.

 A light weight settled on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen for a second before realizing that it was Tim’s head, who had gathered the courage to slide silently and cling next to his body. Now he could feel his warmth and smell the scent of his shampoo, causing his heart jump and his hand acted on his own to gently embrace the smallest’s back and shoulders, bringing him closer.

 Both sighed and relaxed at the touch. Tim closed his eyes and Jay still pretended he was watching the movie.

 And he knew.

 No, he wouldn’t get over it.

  ~ 0.0 ~

 And he didn’t.

 Something which he was now quite grateful.

 “Look at me.” He ordered in a groan, accelerating his movements. “Tim, look at me.”

 The younger was tense beneath him, blushed and arching towards his touch as he accelerated the movement of his fingers inside him, preparing him for what they would do next.

 Jason may wonder if this was another dream, he could almost believe it, but he had verified from the start of the night that this was real, it was really happening. The doors were locked, their uniforms scattered on the floor, the sheets rumpled and sweaty and the room smelled of sweat and sex. And nothing could convince him more than Tim at his mercy and his own body quivering in a mixture of pain and heat equally.

 Patrol tonight was quiet until an explosion in the port disturbed the usual harmony of Gotham. And the fact the he was innocently and casually walking around there has nothing to do with it, okay? It was pure coincidence.

 It was also a coincidence that the explosion catches him close enough (rather fleeing) to blast him and left him a little -just a little- dazed on the ground, and Red Robin was the one closer to the incident. It had not been so much, seriously, he was already standing and ready to go when Red Robin arrived, but apparently he had his coms on and showing his location next to the explosion -something that nobody can prove, we have a deal, Oracle-, and those seconds of silence afterwards worried his Babybird and made everyone think that he could have dead… Again. Jason could have made a bad joke about that, but he couldn’t because Tim had approached to give him one of the most effusive and desperate kiss nobody had given him in his life.

 Obviously, he couldn’t miss that opportunity.

 Being close to an explosion or not, nothing nor nobody would have stopped Jason to return that kiss harder and roughly. And then another, and another, and another… They went to the closest safe house in a speed which Barry Allen would be proud of, and they entered the room bumping with everything in his path between deeply kisses and impatient hands tearing up their uniforms.

 Even if he should, he didn’t think about rest when he finally was in the mattress sharing passionate kisses with Tim as the younger was rubbing on his thigh and murmured in shivers how jerk he was and how he would bring him back to hell if he dare to die again. And, of course, it was impossible to think this was a dream when the same dark-haired boy pinned him in the bed, caressed tenderly every inch of his body, marked him willingly and then made to him literally the best blowjob ever. Jason could have babbled every compliment he knows in any language, but he couldn’t remember because Tim shut up his brain completely with that mouth.

 The kiss that followed that was seductively and satisfying, and Jason couldn’t wait more to grab Tim’s ass -finally- to turn them over and lean over his body to whisper on his ear how much he wanted to fuck him, whose response was a sharped smile and a “Okay. And what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

 And why they had taken so long to do this?

 Hell, if he’d know.

 If he had known how good it would be, how precious it would look Tim in his arms, how nice would be his smell, his body, all beyond fantasy. Each kiss was addicting, and every touch felt right, proper. Their connection was latent and the trust between them plus what they had been repressing flooded them, came to light and drowned them in sensations and joy.

 His erection was going to explode at any moment if he keeps going like this, and his fingers moved inside Tim to reach that point that would make him whimper incoherently. And still this wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, because as much Jay can enjoy the view, have one of Gotham’s desirable men melting and begging for his touch, listening to those delicious sounds which dreams couldn’t even match, there was something Jason loved much more about Tim and he was trying to hide.

 “Fuck Tim, look at me.” He groaned again, removing his fingers inside of him. He had waited enough. “I need to see you.”

 Tim, who was hiding his expression against the pillow until now, turned over when Jason’s fingers left him, and the sound of a condom wrapper broke into the room. He was lucky Jason was putting on the protection because he could have cum at that moment just by seeing Tim’s expression flushed and overwhelmed in heat.

 When Jason found himself ready, he placed between Tim’s legs and his breath hitched when the smallest hooked his legs around his hips and clung tightly to push him forward. Jay placed his hands over the other’s shoulders and looked at Tim expectantly, a smile began to form on his lips, but doubts started to lurk in the back of his mind. He was sure that Tim wanted him, but he couldn’t help to make sure that his Babybird knew where he was getting into.

 Rolling his eyes and flicking his tongue, Tim wrapped his arms around Jay’s neck to pull him down and bend closer to his face, looking him directly into his eyes.

 “Jason, if you don’t fuck me right now as you promised you’d do, I will commit a crime.” Jason wasn’t sure when he promised something like that -probably when Tim was absorbing his soul in that blowjob- but he wouldn’t want to break that promise. “I haven’t spent years dreaming about this moment so that now you doubt.”

 Jason let out a sigh and nodded, he will ask about “that years” later. Instead, he took a moment to feel their bodies almost fitting perfectly, how good it was to have that small, warm silhouette against him, clinging him with confidence and in a way that he wasn’t allowed anyone in a long time. Jason looked those baby blue for a second, searching for a hint of doubt, and when he couldn’t find any, just smiled genuinely at the affection and lust reflected there.

 One of his hand just caressed gently the scar on his Babybird’s neck, that one which he put there when his mind was broken and full of pain and misdirected anger. And when Jason moved to kiss it, Tim just purred in the touch and a little, a shy smile appeared on his face as he led his fingers through his hair.

 “You know, you’re not going to get rid of me now.” Jason breathed against his lips, sinking finally into him and melting in the warmth feeling.

 “As if I wanted to.” Tim answered him with a radiant, happy smile, demanding later a deep kiss as he settled into his arms, as if that were the place where he belongs to.

 It was the closest to an “I love you”, “I know, me too” they would have at this moment, but it’s enough. They don’t need nothing more, they understand each other, and sometimes their actions talks more than words. And they would need much more than a confused Bat-clan to separate them now, so they have much, much time to say it, to love each other properly.

 Luckily, they have time now to left behind dream’s world and start living reality together, which is infinitely better at all levels.

[merakiaes]

Back Together - John Shelby

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: As requested, a part two to “Far Beyond Salvation” with a happy ending. Holy shit this turned out a lot longer than I expected. It’s not proof-read and it’s currently almost 4am so this is probably a mess, might go back and re-write it later. But for now, I hope it’s as good as it is long😂

Wordcount: 6060

Summary: The aftermath of finding John cheating. (Part two of “Far Beyond Salvation”, that you can find here.)

  Three and a half weeks had passed since your falling out with John.

You had, like promised, come back to the house and packed your things early the next morning after Polly had given you the clear that the house was empty, and left for Hockley Heath where you had an apartment ready.

It was only half an hour a drive from Small Heath, so splitting the custody of your children didn’t come with too much struggle, coming to an agreement through Polly that you would take turns having the children.

Although, you were fairly certain that John hadn’t partaken in that decision at all because knowing him, he would have objected to anything you suggested out of pure stubbornness, like he had for all the years you’d known him.

Your children didn’t seem to mind the change, enjoying the change of scenery and taking a big liking to your new home. In reality, they were just happy they got to be with their mum.

They weren’t old enough to understand why you and John had split up the way you had, but they were smart enough to figure out that their father was a sore subject for their mother, therefor trying their hardest not to bring him up whenever they were staying with you.

John, however, did nothing to hide the way he was feeling regarding you, crying openly around the house everyday and answering your children honestly when they asked why he was upset, telling them that he fucked up and that missed you.

He hadn’t tried reaching out to you once, and you guessed that was because Polly and Tommy had kept their promises to keep your new address and phone number a secret.

You hadn’t told Arthur where you were moving because despite loving him like your own brother, you knew he had a tendency to talk about information that wasn’t his to share. And with the way he cared for his little brother so, you knew he was bound to break and give him what he wanted if put in that position.

And you couldn’t take that right now. You wouldn’t be able to talk to him, much less look at him, knowing that it would just break you heart all over again.

But no matter how much you tried to mend your shattered heart, things weren’t the same without him. You missed him dearly, the feeling bringing back memories from when he was away at war.

It made you nervous not to be by his side at all times, knowing that he had a knack of getting into trouble. Now, you weren’t there to help him control his recklessness, and God knows what kind of trouble that would get him into.

Polly and Tommy called to check in on you almost every day, purposely leaving out any details about John.

A part of you wanted to hear how he was doing; you wanted to hear if he missed you as much as you missed him. But the bigger part of you, the heartbroken one, couldn’t even bear hearing his name.

The first few days of your split had been the easiest, as anger had pushed most of the heartbreak to the back of your mind at the time.

You’d gone and gotten the divorce papers the second you had settled into your new apartment, filling your name and every other detail about yourself in.

But when the time came to send them to John, as the last thing needed was his signature, that anger had disappeared, and you couldn’t bring yourself to send them.

Instead, you found yourself staring hopelessly at the papers every night, silent tears running down your cheeks as you tried drowning your sorrow and heartbreak in alcohol; the one solution to one’s problems that you had always advised people to stay away from.

And look at you now, so pathetic that you weren’t even able to listen to your own advice.

You were sure that if it hadn’t been for the kids, and Polly checking in on you once or twice every week, you would have been your own downfall by now.

It was around six o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday when you were getting ready to go to Small Heath and collect the children from Polly’s house.

When still living back there with John, you would have been up with the children bright and early, feeding them their breakfast and walking them to school to make sure they got there safely.

But now, as you hadn’t gotten around to finding a job yet, you slept through the days until you had something to do. You just couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed if you didn’t have anything to occupy your racing thoughts with.

Unlike the other days you’d been off to get the children, however, this day turned out quite differently, as no one other than Arthur Shelby was waiting on your doorstep, looking ready to knock on the door when you opened it.

How he’d gotten a hold of your address, you couldn’t quite figure out, as you doubted Polly or Tommy would give it to him, the two of them knowing just as well as you what a big mouth he had.

But nonetheless, you had to invite him inside as he’d already come all this way, inviting him into the kitchen and putting on some tea before stepping away to call and tell Polly you were going to be a little late, to which she promised she’d keep John away from her house for as long as she could.

You thanked her quickly, before going back into the kitchen, finding that Arthur had already helped himself to the tea and poured you a cup as well.

Arthur had wasted no time in starting to speak once you’d sat down, unlike Tommy and Polly, not staying clear from the subject of John, but rather heading right into it.

“He ain’t the same without you, (Y/N).” He spoke to a start, and you didn’t need to ask to know who he was talking about. “He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t talk. All he does is cry and yell, fighting anyone who even dares mention your name. You ‘ave to come home, love. You ‘ave to come home.”

The feelings you’d been trying so hard to push back these past few weeks suddenly came rushing back to the surface, the mention of your husband causing a painful tug at your heart.

But you could only shake your head, swallowing thickly and looking away from his eyes and into your tea.

“I don’t have to do anything.” You whispered. “This is all his doing, not mine. And now he’s dealing with the consequences of his own actions as he should be.”

You tried to sound as sure in yourself as you could, but in truth, you weren’t. You wanted nothing more than to just run back home into John’s arms, but you couldn’t.

“Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone. He took you for granted, he knows it and he regrets it.”

You turned your head up at that, a glare coming to rest on your face as you swallowed again, desperately trying to keep back the tears.

“What about the ones who do know, then?” You asked. “The ones who never took a damn thing for granted? Who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved most. Who do you reckon has it worse?”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but he wasn’t given enough time to get out a single word.

“He’s all that I see when I close my eyes. His pretty eyes, gorgeous lips, cheeky smile and contagious laugh. At first, I think back to when we were sixteen. I see him in a wide field of sunflowers, spinning and singing like a madman with the bottle of whiskey that we’d stolen from you in his hand. We had no problems back then. The only thing that mattered in the world was us.”

You chuckled dryly at the memory, shaking your head and blinking your eyes furiously to rid of the tears that were quickly building up, looking up into the ceiling as you continued.

“That was the night we lost our virginities to each other. It was the second best day of my life, that one, the first one being when we married. But then the vision changes, and all I can see is him with that other woman, in our bed. It’s like it’s etched into my brain. It never goes away. Everything I see and hear and do is a constant reminder of that day and it makes me feel sick, Arthur. It makes me want to throw my guts up. ”

Arthur, who had been listening intently to you the whole time, swallowed as the feeling of sadness filled his body to see you so broken. John wasn’t the only one out of the Shelbys who cared deeply for you. You were practically his little sister, and he hated what John had done to you. But at the same time, he hated seeing his little brother in that state, as well.

“We miss you, too.” He mumbled. “Not just John. Us Shelbys need to stick together, or we won’t be the Shelbys no more.”

You felt bad for being so blunt with him, knowing he’d come all this way just to try to fix things like the good man he was, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to be anything else.

“Well, I’m not really a Shelby, though, am I?”

Although you felt guilt consume your body from your words, Arthur only shook his head, answering without a doubt in his mind. “Yes, you are. And you always ‘ave been.”

Arthur didn’t stay much longer after that, having said what he came to say and knowing there was nothing more he could do now other than wait for you to hopefully take his words into consideration.

Unbeknownst to him, however, you’d taken them in the second he spoke them. You just tried to push back the truth; that you did, in fact, want to go back.

You waited for another half hour to make sure Arthur was out of your way completely, only then leaving the safety of your home and heading off towards Small Heath.

You could only hope now that Polly had been able to keep John away all this time so that you didn’t have to see him, knowing that he probably would have put up a fight just to be there when you got there so that he could try to plea with you to stay, just like he had when you left.

Luckily, though, as you entered the house and called out for Polly, only the sound of running footsteps and children’s laughter could be heard; not a man in sight.

“Mum!” Your children all yelled out with joy as they came barreling down the hallway, jumping into your arms before you’d even been able to bend down to their height, the sudden force catching you off guard and successfully taking you to the floor.

“Hello, my darlings.” You laughed, hugging them as best as you could with them all climbing onto your body in a not so graceful pile.

Your youngest, Samuel, climbed up to your face with a goofy smile, and despite your uncomfortable position on the wooden floor, you couldn’t do anything other than smile widely at the sight of you beautiful children, having missed them so much despite only having been away from them for a few days.

You grabbed ahold of the back of his head gently, pressing countless of kisses to his face with loud smooching noises, playing along with their enthusiasm.

The young boy instantly started giggling, and your other children, Katie, Laura and Philip, moved up to your face, too, eager to get the same playful treatment.

Polly came walking into the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel that she then used to smack the back of Philip’s back lightly, signaling for all of them to get off of you.

“Alright, you little monsters.” She chuckled, swatting them away. “Let your mother breath.”

“Sorry, aunt Poll.”

Katie, Philip and Laura scurried off of you, and you were instantly able to breath easier without three children shoving their knees and elbows into your abdomen and chest.

You let out a slight sound of struggle as you pushed yourself off the floor with Samuel still in your arms, the three-year old boy clutching onto you for dear life while sucking his thumb.

While his siblings were still very much energetic, the youngest Shelby was tired and seemed ready to sleep. He would, without a doubt, pass out the second you got back to your apartment.

Polly swatted at the three with the towel again, nodding for the kitchen. “Go get your things. It’s late, let’s not keep your mother waiting.”

As the they wasted no time in doing as told, running in the direction of the kitchen, pushing and shoving each other to get there first, Polly walked over to you, bending in and kissing your cheeks in hello, hugging you as good as she could with Samuel getting in the way.

She looked at you, smiling softly. “You alright, love? Arthur didn’t give you too much of a hard time, did he?”

You inwardly cringed as the conversation from the hour before came back into your head, but hurried to put on a smile, shaking your head. “No. Is’ alright, Polls. He meant well.”

“Still.” She shook her head, scoffing slightly while crossing her arms. “He should know better than to put his nose into a woman’s struggles. That he knows nothing about, at that. Finn was the one who let your address spill, remembering it since he came with me to visit you last week. He’s out at the Garrison with the rest of ‘em, but he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry.”

You smiled at the thought of the youngest of the Shelby brothers, adjusting Samuel on your hip slowly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. He can’t be held responsible for anything that’s going on right now. It’s all on John and me.”

Polly could only scoff at that, a glare coming over her features. “None of this is your fault. At the end of the day, every trouble in this world comes down to the fault of men who can’t keep their cocks in their pants.”

Your smile faltered at her words, your whole body flinching almost as if you had been slapped in the face.

Polly instantly realized her mistake as she saw the look on your face and opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could, the children came running back into the hallway with their tiny bags in hand, dressed in their coats and hats and ready to leave.

No more words were shared between Polly and yourself, the two of you instead putting all the focus on the children, ushering them outside and getting them settled into the car that was waiting right were you left it.

You had just gotten Samuel situated between Laura and Katie, when Finn came running down the street, stopping in front of you and panting, leaning his hand on his knees for support.

Both you and Polly took in his state with confused eyes, but before you could ask, he panted out between breaths. “It’s John. He’s- He’s gotten into a fight again and it’s really bad this time. Arthur went to grab him and he shoved him into the bar, knocked him out cold.”

Your eyes instantly widened at his words, and only then did the loud sounds of crashing and yelling coming from the Garrison down the street reach your ears.

Sharing a look with Polly, you both knew that you were the only one who would be able to fix this.

“Go. I’ll take the children back into the house.” Polly hurried to do exactly what she said she would, the kids all asking what was going on as their mother ran off with their youngest uncle without as much as a doubt in her mind.

The closer you got to the pub, the louder the yelling and banging got, and now you could hear clearly that most of the voices were yelling your husband’s name.

Finn went in before you, rushing into the crowd of people and yelling out over the ruckus. “Get back! (Y/N)’s here!”

You instantly spotted John in the midst of the crowd, punching left and right, along with a few other men you didn’t recognize. Behind him, Tommy was yelling his name and repeatedly trying to pull him away, while Harry and a few other Blinders were over by the bar, tending to Arthur who was laid on the surface.

The people who knew who you were instantly started backing away when they heard your name, watching as you pushed yourself through the crowd with determined steps, your glaring eyes not once leaving the form of your husband.

Said man threw his arm out, aiming for another punch, but stopped right in his tracks when you called out.

“John! John, that’s enough!”

His head instantly whipped in your direction, one hand grasping at the collar of a man’s shirt and the other clenched in the air.

Right then, the entire pub grew quiet, everyone stepping back as quickly as they could when seeing the look in your eyes.

Tommy was finally able to pull his brother off of the man as he was now distracted, the man’s friends, who were also bruised and bloody, instantly hurrying to help him to the other side of the room.

“Thank the fucks…” You heard Arthur mutter from the bar, now awake and pressing a hand to his head in pain while trying to sit up with the help of Harry and Finn.

You wasted no time in marching up to John, taking note of the way his eyes were completely bloodshot and entirely out of it thanks to the large amount of alcohol he’d for sure consumed throughout the night.

Just for that moment, everything was back to the way it used to be, with you getting your insufferable husband out of fights, the heartbreak pushed to the back of your mind as you only had one thing on the agenda; get him home and clean his bleeding wounds.

“(Y/N)…” He mumbled once you reached him, toppling in his step slightly as he tried to meet you halfway. He fell into your arms, his neck landing in your neck and arms holding on to you for dear life, going from a violent mess to a soft mess in just a few seconds.

You stumbled slightly at the sudden addition of weight, only sighing as he started mumbling incoherent words into the skin of your neck, the wetness showing that he was now crying.

You gave Tommy a look over his shoulder, trying your best to keep him upright on your own but failing miserably.

“Help me get him back home, yeah?”

The man wasted no time, coming over to you and taking some of his weight, the two of you being able to exit the pub with the help of Finn opening the door, leaving Arthur and the rest behind to help Harry clean up.

Finn followed you all the way back to the Shelby residence, opening the front door for you. As your entrance was a rather clumsy one with the way John could now barely support his weight with the way he was crying, Polly and the kids instantly noticed your arrival.

You could hear the older woman yelling for Finn from one of the bedrooms, and the boy instantly took off, without a doubt to keep his nieces and nephews inside the room as Polly came out only a second later, taking only one look at John before scoffing.

“Oh, bloody hell. You boys are going to be the death of me.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t my fault this time, eh?” Tommy tried to joke it off, slightly out of breath.

But Polly only glared, hurrying to make way for you to the longue, where you set John down in one of the armchairs.

You and Polly left to get some alcohol for the cuts, along with a bowl of hot water and a sponge, no words shared as you prepared it.

Upon coming back to the room John was in, Tommy met you in the doorway, a cigarette now dangling from between his lips.

He gave you the smallest of smiles, nodding his head. “He’s sobered up a bit now. He’s been crying about you ever since you left so I think seeing you again gave him a bit of a shock. But he’s alright.”

You sighed, rubbing your hand over your  face slowly before turning to grab the bottle and bowl from Polly’s hands. “Alright. Thank you, Tommy.”

Nodding, he reached out a hand to pat your shoulder, before brushing past you and taking his aunt with him, leaving you to enter the room by yourself.

The second you stepped inside, John’s eyes moved up from the fire to land on you, widening. He instantly moved to stand up, but you quickly shook your head, going over to him and setting the things down on the table next to him.

“Sit down.” You told him softly, and he did as you said, swallowing thickly and looking at you like you had just come back from the dead.

You pulled up a chair in front of him, all too aware of the way his eyes followed your every move.

You tried your best to push the resurfacing feelings to the back of your head, but when he was looking at you like he’d done when you first fell in love, it was really bloody hard to ignore.

Grabbing the sponge, you dipped it into the bowl of water carefully, wringing it out before turning to John, avoiding his eyes at every cost as you put the sponge to the biggest wound on his forehead.

He hissed at the feeling, visibly tensing and closing his eyes for a brief moment, but he soon got used to the stinging sensation and went right back to staring at you while you worked away at the cuts on his face.

Your heart was beating violently in your chest, and you could feel your whole body tingling at the proximity of the two of you, causing your hand to shake slightly as you moved on to another cut.

All this time you’d been apart, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the scene you had walked in on with him and the other woman. This was the sole reason you had been so adamant on avoiding him, fearing it might break your heart even further if you saw him.

But now that you were actually there with him, seated only inches apart with your hand brushing against his face ever so often, the image of him cheating was as good as gone, your mind instead being filled by an overwhelming amount of memories from your life together.

You thought about the first time you met, how small you had all been at that time. You still remembered the way the rock felt under your hands when you were pushed to the ground, the pain in your knuckles when your fist had met John’s face and the way your whole body bubbled with anger as he then proceeded to pull at your ribbons.

You remembered when you had gotten back to Small Heath after being gone for so long, seeing John for the first time in what seemed like forever. Even though you still despised him at the time, you recalled the way you had gotten all giddy inside when seeing how well he’d grown with the time.

You remembered your first kiss down by The Cut, when you had gotten caught in the moment, him on top of you after you’d fallen to the ground together.

You remembered telling your families about the new step in your relationship, how everyone had reacted like they were shocked even though both of you knew they’d known from the start.

You remembered the day you lost your virginities to each other under that big tree in the midst of the sunflowers, how clumsy and awkward it had been as both of you had been too drunk on Arthur’s whiskey to actually finish.

You remembered the day you found out you were pregnant, the day you got married, the day he came back from the war, and the countless of mornings you’d spent in bed with your kids, back when things had still been good.

You remembered everything, every single moment and memory coming back to you in that one single moment, and in some way, that was even worse than remembering John in bed with another woman.

Getting so caught up in your own thoughts, you barely even knew what you were doing anymore, your hand automatically moving the sponge over John’s cuts.

You were only pulled back to reality when he cleared his throat, your eyes for the first time moving to meet his right as he spoke.

“Where are you staying now?”

Your heart instantly skipped a beat at his deep, smooth voice, not noticing until then how much you’d truly missed it. It wasn’t confident as it usually was, instead soft as silk to your ears, a certain hesitation lingering in the tone of it.

Your eyes flickered away from his hurriedly, to focus on the bowl of water.

Following his example, you cleared your throat quietly. “Hockley Heath.”

John flinched under your touch at that, but whether it was from the sponge pressing down on his cut, or the mention of the town you had moved to, you didn’t know.

“I didn’t think you’d gone that far.” He mumbled, eyes falling down to the floor sadly.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from breaking down into his arms right then and there, the vulnerable look on his face just breaking your heart further.

“It’s only half an hour from here.”

He tensed his jaw, not daring to look back up at you as a new set of tears started burning in his eyes. But despite the way he was trying to hide it, you knew him like you knew the back of your own hand, recognizing the signs of his tensed jaw, fisted hands and slightly trembling body immediately.

“The kids miss their mum.”

You tried to keep a straight face, reaching over to the bowl of water again to rinse the sponge of the blood. “I have them every other week. They see me just as much as they see you.”

“It’s not same when you’re not home, though, is it?”

You wanted to cry at the sound of the slight quiver in his voice, but bit it back.

“Hockley Heath is my home now.”

Never before in your life had you told such a bad lie, not even believing it yourself.

And neither did John, as he finally looked back up at you with a shake of his head. “No, it’s not.” He disagreed, red eyes now glassy with tears and his hand coming up to grasp at your wrist by his face. “Your home is with me, as mine is with you. Please, would you give me another chance?”

Your breath got caught in your throat at the feeling of his fingers against your skin. Your hand was shaking more than ever now, as was your breath, every movement just stilling as you tried to keep your composure.

You wanted to be one of those unphased people and tell him that he should have thought about that before he took another woman into your house, into your bed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, or anything else for that matter.

As you felt your walls being torn down more and more for each second passing in his presence, with his fingers holding onto your wrist softly and shooting tingles all the way up your arm, you knew that your brain was quickly losing its battle against your heart.

You had known this certain request would be coming, but now that it actually did, you weren’t ready, your whole body just screaming at you to give in.

You fought it, however, squeezing your eyes shut tightly to keep tears of your own from falling as you caught a glimpse of the tears now running down his cheeks. “Please, don’t.”

But he ignored your silent plea, instead moving in closer and pressing his forehead against yours. You wanted to want to tell him to stop, to step back, but you didn’t, you couldn’t.

“I just really fookin’ miss you, (Y/N).” He cried softly, your heart bleeding at the broken tone of his voice. “I miss you so fookin’ much. I don’t know how to live my life without you by my side. You’ve always been there, for me and the others, I don’t know how to act without you, it’s not the same.”

I know, you wanted to say. But you stayed quiet, just taking a shaky breath as the first tear finally escaped and rolled down your cheek, leaving a wet trail in its wake.

“Aunt Poll and Ada will barely even look at me, Arthur and Tommy give me shit every day. I know I deserve it but it fucking hurts, you know?” He gave a dry chuckle, his voice thick from the tears, “We’re not a family without you. If you could just give me one more chance, I’d spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you how sorry I am.”

You could hear nothing but sincerity in his voice, knowing very well that John rarely showed this kind of emotion and that when he did, it was purely honest.

But you could only shake your head as the heartbreak finally caught up with you, keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at him as you sobbed, not being able to hold back your feelings anymore.

“I never did anything other than love you, support and be there for you.” You shook your head slightly. “I always put you first, no matter if I needed to take care of myself more. You always came first, because your happiness meant the world to me. And no matter how hard I just want to forget any of this ever happened, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you, John.”

It was the truth. You honestly didn’t know if you would ever be able to see past this and act the same around him again. But what he had said about you being each other’s home was true, and you knew in your heart that you had been away from home for way too long.

John let out a small sound of pain as his crying intensified, his forehead pressing harder against yours and his body starting to shake slightly.

You tried your best to calm yourself, taking a few breaths before opening your eyes to find that he had now closed his as he cried. You cried with him, putting down the sponge and grabbing his face in your hands, not even bothering to dry them off.

He instantly reacted to your touch, leaning into your hand moving his hands up to your wrists.

“But I’m willing try.” You spoke finally, completing your previous sentence.

To this, he let out another small cry, but this time out of relief, his eyes slowly opening and giving you the most heart wrenching of looks.

“You mean you’re coming home?” He breathed heavily, eyes filled with doubt, fearing that he’d misunderstood the whole situation. But then you nodded, and his body instantly flushed with relief.

“I’m coming home.”

He let out a teary laugh, hands moving from your wrists to the sides of your face to pull you even closer, his eyes squeezing shut at the tears kept falling, but now out of happiness rather than sadness.

You kept crying with him, too caught up in the moment to find the control in yourself to stop. The two of you sat in silence for only a short moment, just basking in each other’s company and having a heart-felt moment.

When you opened your eyes again, the tears had stopped falling, but your faces were still wet and warm.

John looked at you desperately, breathing heavily and asking in a mere whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

You gave him a hesitant look, faltering for a moment. “John…”

“Please.” He hurried, closing his eyes again. “It’s been so long since I felt your touch and I know that it’s my own fault. I just… I need to feel you. Please.”

Your heart jerked in your chest. Your mind was telling you no, to not let in so easily, but your heart was telling you the opposite. You found yourself nodding only a second later. “Alright.”

Without opening his eyes, he stayed like that for a few seconds, with his forehead pressed to yours, thumbs caressing the wetness of your cheeks, as if he was memorizing the way you looked and felt.

And then he slowly brought you closer, and before you knew it, his lips were pressed to yours, so hesitant, soft and gentle that it felt like you were fifteen again, down by The Cut, sprawled out on the muddy ground together as you shared your first kiss.

From that day forward, John kept his promise, showing you each and every day how much he appreciated you and everything you did for him.

It started with the little things, never breaking his promises, not being late whenever you had something planned, always calling home to let you know if something came up at the Betting Shop.

He never lied, not even a single white lie leaving his lips for the rest of the future.

The first year, you fought a lot. You fought all the time. But the fights were never really about him staying late at work, getting too drunk at the Garrison or forgetting to change the bedsheets whenever one of the kids wet the bed. It was always about the cheating.

It came back to you when you least expected it, no matter how hard you tried not thinking about it, and he would beg for your forgiveness every time something like this went down.

Sorry might have worked when a mistake was made, but not when trust was broken. Forgiving was easy, but forgetting and trusting again was hard, and it took time.

Despite knowing how much he truly regretted it, you would sometimes fall back into that hole of betrayal and hurt and take it out on him.

But he was patient. He was always patient, all the way into the end. And in the end, you ended up getting over it completely, growing to trust John to the fullest once again.

After everything that had gone down, John Shelby never as much as looked at another woman again, if not her eyes when having a conversation. But even then, he would tell you afterwards how much he loved you, showing you every day, for the rest of your lives, how much you really meant to him.

Everyone had gotten what they wanted.

The Shelbys got their brother and sister-in-law back, happy and as in love as always, just the way they wanted them. The children got their parents back, as a team, together as one. John got you back, and you, you ended up getting back the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

You got him back the way he had been before the war and all the death, before the Peaky Blinders, and before everything else; the real John, the one who acted like the giant, cuddly teddy bear with an abnormally big mouth, figuratively speaking.

Just the way you loved him.

[adorabledonutunicorn]

New Eyes

CW: Some internalized homophobia

Warning: This is 15 pages on Google Docs so it’s long. This is a combination of poems I’ve written over the past year or so (if my timeline is correct) about realizing and processing through some of my past crushes. It took me til version 4 to shift my perspective and not be ashamed of how I felt about these people. It’s kind of depressing to think that it took me no less than 4 years to get rid of the shame surrounding my sexuality, and even still I have my days, but in this case it makes for a nice arc that comes to accept everything by the end. In case you’re interested here’s a brief background on each person. I’m gonna go off since it’s already the length of a chapter of a book lmao.

1. She is literally the reasons for all of this. She was someone who I’ve known since middle school because we were in the “accelerated math group” together. She was always popular, but something always struck me differently about her. During our sr year of high school I sent her a message on Facebook and we had a few conversations on there. We were the only girls in our math class by this time and tbh we had more conversations online than we ever did in-person...we even sat next to each other in class omfg.

2. This one is about a friend I met in college. She was pretty, full of joy, and has a nice smile so I’m a very simple person when it comes to being attracted to people lol. I forced myself to get over it quickly and I’m thankful we still talk sometimes despite never really hanging out outside of the Christian group we were in lol.

3. Damn, this one’s about the friend referenced in “To see her smile again”. She’s literally just too perfect and the day I realized I got butterflies when she walked into the room was the day I fully realized/accepted that okay there’s more to me than being straight. I still don’t know how or why she loved me so well.

4. This one is about a friend I met in college, literally on the first day I was there. We were both in the same orientation group and were both so awkward we somehow stuck around together all 4 years lmao. Idk if she’s just awkward around me only or everyone, but by the end I could feel some kind of unspoken tension between us, especially after we went to see a play for the theatre class we took that was about Stonewall lol. A part of me wanted to say something but another part of me thought that maybe she was in a different place in the same journey of discovering her sexuality. The funniest part is that on Valentine’s Day I think a year ago we DM’ed on Instagram for 5 hours str8 (gay).

5. Aah yes, just another one of my Twitter crushes. Jk the first Twitter crush oooh! It took me like a good 6 months to fully accept said crush and like another 6 months to fully get over it. Truly I wish her all the best and all the healing.

V1.0

Once upon a time, These eyes grazed the truth

They saw the surface They saw someone With so much purpose

A life with a heart Transcending barriers and A mind with the ability To achieve great things

A person so pure Hiding their true self within Yet solid and confident in Serving

It was this willingness Intelligence Freedom To get lost in music and dance Goodness Integrity That led me to believe You were one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen.

And this, Is the truth that these eyes Could see

Objectively, Honestly, Truthfully, As transparently as Any teacher Any observer Any friend Knew you to be.

Yet still, My mind seems To have forsaken me.

What I know now Is what I failed to admit then What I replay in my head Is what I am slowly learning To accept within

It brings me shame To let these emotions Finally come in

And it brings me pain, Because that's not how I want to remember How and why This was perhaps, the "best" end.

I want to remember The objective observations The person we all saw, Not just me

I want to remember Rightfully, The words you said to me

I want to remember How I tried to look inside you So deeply

And how you gracefully Eloquently Opened up to me.

All I hope Is that these memories mean At least half of what they do to you As they do to me.

Even if I Can now look in this mirror And see, Say these words to myself Breathe And let them be,

I will never forget What you meant To everyone You met.

But because I tried To look so deep Because I tried To love you as you were, As you are I ended up finding something Only these eyes now Could see.

I cannot say That I fell in love With a fantasy

Because love Is so vast and deep

But there was A new feeling inside of me An emotion I would hide Because I never wanted it to be Outside For anyone To see.

I look back at these moments That replay inside my mind From every bathroom anxious tear I cried Unknowingly Became the catalyst For this "why"

Why was I so anxious And afraid? But that won't explain Why did I even feel The way that I did?

I didn't want to I pushed it down So easily It took me almost 5 years To finally accept This story That lingered inside of me.

Once I see A heart, soul, human life To love, I jump in wholeheartedly

Because I guess That is just who I am, Who I was made to be.

But I didn't expect That I'd be here Confronting these Treacherous conflicting feelings That to the casual observer Make it seem like It was all for me, Self-motivated Self-intentioned Just to set my eyes on something I could not define At the time.

If not me If I can't believe it, I hope you know Remember And see That regardless of what I felt The words we never said Still give you more Than a thousand reasons To keep on breathing And to keep on being The beautiful person We all knew You'd grow to be.

V2.0

Imagine What this heart can do Imagine What this heart can feel What these eyes Can see inside Before the mind Redraws the lines.

Imagine God's truth Willfully entering the soul Revealing more

Than I could ever know But all that I feel Is beyond words.

Imagine That what is beyond words Is not beyond shame

In fact, Shame has now met these emotions And tainted this love, The love the Lord has given To this heart of mine

This love that was pure Of good intention Is now questioned, Because of the reality, My reality, The way my mind sees

I can only perceive What these eyes gaze upon And the brain processes, filters, Through its many recognized colors

I cannot see What was not meant for me And what is Beyond me.

With these eyes, Imperfect and perhaps blind, They let me look upon a face Labeling it within me as shame Instead of grace

I used to be able to see, What I thought so innocently, Now a darkened fiend Of what was made A friend

What has now surfaced Became lies What has harbored Is judgment Internally, And nocturnal I have become

This is merely Not what I wanted to see But rather A predator where it meets its prey Onlooking the target Ready to strip Its life away

But here, This life is dignity Of the soul across the room Once the prime and primitive Instincts and defense mechanisms activate, There is no more reason, No way That words will ever be able To explain.

This Feels lost Feels lonely Like no one but me Will understand clearly That I love Deeply Wholly I dare say beautifully Whether or not these feelings Are just my feelings Or beyond Only my reality.

Because reality Is subjective Different between both you and me But somehow still We may find common ground Where the images our minds outline Overlap and see the same

It is here, where more than I Can finally understand. It is here, Where words are no longer the enemy But the potion and antidote To this shame

For this shame Has met humility Vulnerability The courage To be me

Even if The whole world will never know I know the whole world Will never understand, I still stand With my heart tall Convicted with truth Rooted in the Lord's Truth That you are so beyond and Better than beautiful It fills me With awe.

V3.0

These new eyes that have seen Change unfolding Have also seen Love unraveling.

From all the sweetness And fondness Of pure untarnished memories, To what I don't know if I know How to see,

This is me Raw and untouched Naked and ashamed To have loved The friend who was Never meant For me.

Blessed was I To have found one So faithful and kind For once not out of reach But yet still Out of my league With all the riches Of intelligence to joy And of course A smile that was not For the faint of heart to see

I have loved before, For it was here I found love In the purest form First, foremost, Of friendship

It was here Where every good thing That resonated inside me Grew tenfold With this unknown blessing That I had fathomed to know Beyond blessings ever received.

Yet, Little did I know, It took courage To love this way. Selfless Never ill-intentioned I tried to be Until the end.

It was generously That she gave me And so kindly Yet humbly I tried to give back Never feeling like What I gave was enough, As she so gracefully Accepted everything Speaking to me without words It was more than enough.

There is not a single soul That I have met Who could ever be Her Anything like her, Who could also be Or will likely ever be My friend.

It was on the days We left, Where our presences departed Where I had no regrets

But it was then When I realized The sadness and grief Was yet the loss Of love, Including the Lord's Love.

It was she, Who lamentably taught me How butterflies felt Inside me All the way To fear and shame Of this very discovery

As well as The best hugs Any person may probably ever give me.

There is no one like her, And there is no one better for her Than her husband, And this I know, It is he who I know To be faithful, kind, Courageous, righteous, Steadfast and Unconditionally loving

But somehow, I ask the Holy Spirit Did you bring her Here To teach me About love, faithfulness, and joy? Did you bring her Here To show me light in the world Once more? Did you bring her here To have a friend for once, To give me courage to speak, To love a friend deeply? And did you bring her here So that I could love so deeply That I found this part of me?

I can still say To this day That I have No regrets About anything I Have written or said To this friend, The greatest gift, A catalyst For this journey, And the one who gives The best hugs With the sweetest smiles I’ll ever be blessed to receive.

V4.0

Once where A new era began, A seed was planted In the mere probability of our existence

We did not find each other We stumbled upon one another In a way where awkwardness Was the main contributor To our similarities

Yet you stayed And I of course, stayed Somehow we relished In a relieving familiarity

Perhaps, It brought us together For that reason.

But what we had And what we have Has grown from a seed,

Watered, waiting We are here Where I never thought we would be: Friends now far away, Yet still able to relate

But even then What does it mean? It may not mean much of anything.

For a fleeting feeling Lines the nerves of my being Extremities tense While the rest of me at peace

For this is the only awkwardness We have known to overcome, Time and time again, —I never know Where your thoughts go

There is so much to be learned So much we will never know But in each other, We have still grown.

Maybe this is the best feeling I would never have known If I were not able To express it freely

Maybe one day Our lives not our hearts Will collide Telling the same story Of who we were always meant to be.

V5.0

To Jade, A jewel of always Every color but green,

Your story is a wonderful epic, Tales of travels That never grow old

They write an unapologetic narrative Of every highest mountain top And every lowest valley

You have climbed as high Just as much as you Have fallen down and cried

And I, I so wished to see and to learn Of every broken piece to your life That you thought you needed to earn

But I, Even with good intentions Fell into a hole I could not climb

I embraced every part At the expense of my joy Only adding To my despair

But you taught me What strength and courage Could be

To say it is easy To wake up every day Without the one Who loved you most Is irreparable As much as he was irreplaceable

To say the scars it leaves behind Are mere wounds of the flesh to be tended to Would simply be a lie

But still I Fell in love with What it could look like To see you wake up every morning And choose life

For there is nothing more brave As the story you write And continue to write.

I still stand by And wish to look upon your life To see how far you've come

But at least I've passed beyond The emotions I feared would last forever

Back then I was confused Back then I was still learning And I thank you for helping me Find who I am

Even if I can never say I fell as deep for love's sake, If I ever find you Stumble upon Or see you I will find the reddest rose And gift it to you

For the honor and memory of your brother And for the honor and memory of you Because sometimes words Will never be enough To describe what will always Be blooming in you (And how you've allowed me To blossom too).

Conclusion / V1.5

Without what happened that night These essays would never have turned to poems

Without the words we never said I wouldn’t have these reasons why I write

You are still as beautiful as the day I met you And the day I left you when I accepted You will remain a memory, not a friend meant for forever Or even for a second

But still, I do not hesitate To smile and be embarrassed Knowing now all That I did not know then That brings clarity, closure, and an end.

I never loved you But I definitely liked you Enough to zone in on Every beat of your heart

Enough to make you see Who you were always made to be And how worthy you are To be you, To be everything you are.

And so here I remain, Content and at peace Knowing I am allowed To never-more be ashamed.

[alexmitas]

Abandon Ideology

In Jordan Peterson’s second foray into self-help, he writes his VI’th rule for life: ‘Abandon Ideology.’ As an ardent follower of Jordan’s, on first reading of this, I took this rules’s implications at face value; that is, the implication that an ideology is something that is held by a group of people, but that the individual, striving for what is true and pure, should rid themselves of all ideology, in the interest of progressing new and helpful ideas to the culture at large. Recently, particularly after having watched this YouTube video by Philosophy Tube, a question which I wrestled with subtly after reading Jordan’s recent work has made its way to the forefront of my mind: Are we so sure that it is even possible to abandon ideology? and I don’t mean once you already ‘have one’, so to speak (though this is a valid question also, albeit requiring a few more prior assumptions), but rather, is it even possible for an individual to not have an ideology? (Paraphrased,) Philosophy Tube makes this point explicitly, comparing ideology to a**holes: everyone has them, they use them everyday, but nobody tends to take a good look at their own unless something has gone wrong. So who is right?

Interestingly, both philosophers consider ideology to be something that actually exists - which, to me, is by no means a foregone conclusion. Jordan assumes that it is a sort of group-think parasite that infests the mind, while Philosophy Tube believes that ideology is an inevitable function within the individual. Anecdotally, I’ve noticed that the latter tends to be a more common belief among those with left political leaning, while Jordan’s point tends to be expressed by individuals who are more popular with those with right political leaning*. As we know that political leaning seems to be a result of a temperamental difference between individuals, it could be that this is just another form of what one could theorize as the fundamental question between the extremes of such differentiations, which is the question of whether the individual is fundamentally formed through nature or nurture. I have personally arrived at the conclusion, as have others, that the answer to this question is clearly both; however, the question of whether or not ideology is fundamentally group-oriented or individual-orientated doesn’t quite fit neatly into the dimensions of this theory. This is because, in no small part, that the roles of thought in regards to ideology in this case are antithetical to the typical hypothesis presented by the theory: in this case, the left leaning individuals are the one’s more likely to believe that ideology is an innate characteristic (nature), where as the right leaning individuals are more likely to believe that ideology is a product of culture (nurture). While it may not be a perfect comparison, this is the reverse of what an individual who agrees with this line of logic would likely guess. Is there a reason for this?

Perhaps it is the more fundamental tenant of conservatism, which tends to prize its own culture’s tradition, that demands from its right-wing thinker a bias in believing that their own way of interpreting the world is the ‘correct’ way to do so, based on the interpretation of the facts of ‘objective reality,’ which is free of ideology, because that is the way it is has always been; or perhaps it is liberalism’s inclination towards progression - its greatest strength and weakness simultaneously - that forces it to be open to all possibilities, and therefore implying that there is no single way of being, there is no objective reality, because reality could be anything based on the individual’s own subjective experience, based on their own ideology, which must therefore be present in all of us; or, perhaps, (and this is in no way to imply a comprehensively exclusive list) there is the consideration which I mentioned above, which questions the existence of ideology as an objective truth altogether. 

[Aside: for sh*ts and giggles, let’s explore this last idea. So ‘ideology’, stems from the french word idéologie, where idéo- or ideo- is “idea”, and -logie or -logy is “the (scientific) study of the subject field represented by the stem.” (From Merriam-Webster.com). Also from Merriam-Webster: “Though ideology originated as a serious philosophical term, within a few decades it took on connotations of impracticality thanks to Napoleon, who used it in a derisive manner. Today, the word most often refers to ‘a systematic body of concepts,’especially those of a particular group or political party.” So according to this definition, ideology is more of a strictly philosophical or scientific term referring to the study of ideas. Well, everyone has ideas. But somehow this definition doesn’t quite seem to fit the bill. It seems as though both sides of the political spectrum seem to regard ideology as something deeper than the this definition gives it credit. It seems as though according to the political (to use a loose term to define the parameters of this debate) debate, believes that ideology is either a type of group-oriented idea that can inhabit a large swath of people, or it is the fundamental subjective framework that the individual uses to interpret the world. Of course, I doubt many serious thinkers on the right would deny that everyone needs a framework for which to use to interpret the world (Jordan Peterson certainly doesn’t). Instead, they would argue that framework is not the same as ideology, but simply a tenant of being human, as a combination of both an individual’s objective and subjective experience (and of course one could argue about whether objective experience actually exists also, but that’ll have to be another topic for another day; today we will assume that both objective and subjective experiences are real). But this also begs the question, why is it that some people can have an ideology while others can be free from it? This brings the argument illustrated nicely by Gad Saad into play; namely, that ideology is the equivalent of an idea pathogen, echoed by the complimentary position presented by Jordan’s work which contends with the idea that although not everyone need be infected by an idea parasite, everyone must have a narrative framework to operate in the world. This in and of itself, of course, asks us to contend with the question of whether or not there is even a difference between this “narrative framework” and ideology, to which we may get different answers based on the political leaning of the person whom we ask. As my inherent bias seems to lean to the right in most cases, my intuition tells me that there is a difference, that narrative framework is superordinate to ideology, but again, its difficult to assess whether or not that is my tendency towards conservatism and its respect of (let’s say the west’s) cultural background getting in the way of objectivity, sustaining that objectivity is real in the first place. But to play devil’s advocate to the side opposite to my intuition in a different way, I would say that it’s possible that the real problem is that we do not have our definitions straight: what is ideology to one may be narrative framework to another; and in this sense, I might also add that it is entirely possible that ideology itself does not exist past what may also be considered a narrative framework, since what one would call an ideology another may say they are only acting in according to their own narrative framework (or, “yes, I do have an ideology, but - of course - so do you). The obvious argument to refute this would likely refer to the nature in which an individual with an accused ideology would hold beliefs which mirror that of another individual with the same ideology, therefore rendering the ideas non-unique. And this is indeed a powerful argument. It’s also an argument which, hitherto, I never second guessed. But thinking now, of course it isn’t the case that two individuals narrative frameworks cannot be influenced by similar subjective experiences. This gets more complicated when you compound uncountable numbers of people who have “the same ideology,” and therefore expressing similar subjective experiences that derived their narrative frameworks; after all, could that many people really have had such identical experiences that they are brought to such similar beliefs independent from and “idea parasite” or ideology? Maybe not, but also, maybe the subjective experiences and narrative framework (or ideology), of the accuser has led them to a sort of confirmation bias, where one signal of similarity leads them to the expectation of uniformity; where the sight of a leaf of a certain type or color leads to certainty that that leaf must belong to a specific breed of tree, rather than perhaps a tree of only similar lineage. In this regard, with special consideration given to the possibility of miscommunication of words and their definitions, it is possible that the deeper form of “ideology” within the context of our current culture, does not even exist. It’s certainly a possibility which I will be keeping my eyes and ears on, anyways. End Aside.] 

A conclusion about who is right certainly won’t be reached in a blog post by me today. What I can conclude from this thought experiment, however, is yet another example of why your intuition - based from your temperament and experience - can lead you astray when considering complex questions. Or even seemingly non-complex issues, for that matter. The perspective that Jordan Peterson provides may very well be the correct one. But the perspective that Philosophy Tube highlights as well feels as though it could be superior. Then there is the possibility that they are both wrong - or both right (it is such a strange world we live in, after all, where paradoxes are known to exist). One thing is for certain: both of these people are much smarter than I, so, as per usual, there is much left to consider and ponder. And to gather erratically.

One day I will start to write blog posts that focus more on my reader than my inner ramblings. But for now, I still need to sort myself out, and I hear writing can be incredibly useful for that. This is ErraticWoolGathering, after all.

Best,

- Alex 

*An example of this that I can bring to mind is exemplified by Gad Saad, author of The Parasitic Mind, who similarly claims - as I understand it - that ideology is a matter of group-think, or in his words, that an ideology is no different than a type of “idea pathogen.” Now, whether Gad claims to be of right political leaning or not (as far as I know, he does not), his book and his ideas clearly seem to be more popular with the the right-wing of our culture than they are with our left-wing.      

[starrspice]

Rose Quartz isn't a villain

Unpopular opinion. But here we go

This is My personal two cents. This isn't ordered well its kind of all over the place.

WARNING. ITS REALLY LONG

A lot of people (especially since the movie) have been acting and bashing Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond and acting as though she's the cruelest villain in the universe.

And here's why I don't think she is the ANTAGONIST (a person who actively opposes someone or something)

And furthermore why she falls in line as a VILLAIN ( a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.)

As well as a HERO (a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities)

Let's start with her thought process and behavior.

A big thing I see is people saying "HER ABUSE DOESNT JUSTIFY WHAT SHE DID SHES STILL A MONSTER" and it's true. Abuse doesn't justify terrible behavior but it does to some degree explain it. Pink diamond was abused by the other diamonds.

She was constantly punished for acting out, which she did not only for attention from the other diamonds (as she seemed to be left alone quite often ) but also to make them happy (which indicates that they usually are not) and bring the family together. Not only did she act out, but when punished, she was forced to say she's sorry and that she was wrong, for simply trying to make her family happy and feel less miserable herself.

Pink was basically trained to follow homeworlds rules and not to question anything. And was forced to live a life she hated.

Yes. A lot of what Pink did and HOW she acted is due to how she was raised by the diamonds.

Diamonds are taught that THEY are the leaders. All gems and other life forms are lower than they are. And while Pink did, in fact, realize that killing the planets was wrong that may very well be all she realized. Gems weren't made to fuse with other gems, or to rebel, or to find their own path in life. All of those were things introduced by the rebels. The only reason the diamonds are getting closer to behaving and thinking better than they used to is that they had GUIDANCE. Steven helped show them a better right and wrong. He's helped them work to become better people for 2 years. And one may argue that pink/rose had thousands of years AWAY from. her abusers to become better. But the big thing she didn't have was guidance. She didn't have anyone tell her that those things weren't ok. The gems couldn't tell her that because everything they were doing is new to them. They grew and developed as people but couldn't possibly understand a stronger sense of right and wrong since it had never been questioned before and they'd never been told anything except for "Diamonds know best so we never question them" if you listen to Rose's song love like you she REALIZES SHE WAS TERRIBLE but only because she finally had someone to show her how her way thinking was resulting in terrible behavior and causing problems. "I always thought I might be bad now I'm sure that it's true, 'cus I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you. " GREG WAS HER GUIDANCE but she realized that even if she tried to be a better person. Shell always has a bit of her old self. And she may very well think That's holding her back. But she knew that steven, someone surrounded by people better than she ever could be. And by a strong loving father to guide him and make him kind and considerate and the amazing steven we know and love.

I know a lot of friends who have dealt with abuse. And they go on to behave all kinds if different ways. But this show depicts 2 very different ways people can behave after a childhood of abuse. Pink ran off and made her own life, but didn't necessarily become better. She continued living as she had, not knowing her behavior was wrong because she had never seen anything else or been told that it was wrong. She acted how she was taught to act by homeworld, and as for the rebels, no one recognized how bad it was because they lived the exact same way. They were stuck and had trouble growing as people because they didn't know how to grow. Steven taught them. That's why pearl lives for herself now instead of rose. How Amethyst takes pride and lives with the support of her friends and family boosting her up. He taught garnet that it's ok to not know everything, and sometimes you just have to focus on what you can change rather than what you cant. He taught them that fighting doesn't always fix the problem. Pink didn't have a steven until she realized how much she truly loved Greg. How he was different from other humans because he taught her and was willing to overlook the mistakes of her past so he could help her future. Only at the end of her life did she learn that she was wrong, and selfish, and not a good person. The diamonds acted JUST like this. They all dealt with Whites abuse. And realized. They behaved wrongly. Steven showed them that. They had guidance. Yes. Some people can realize the fault in their behavior on their own. But some cant. The diamonds needed guidance to take steps towards being better. And they're still struggling to learn. But they have someone to help them. So they're trying to fix their mistakes. So yes. Pink diamond was a bad person. And she did a lot of what she did not only because of the abuse. But because of how she was taught to think. This is not to void her of fault or to excuse the things she did. But I feel like it's unfair to call her evil and cruel and heartless. EVERY SINGLE VILLAIN in steven universe has had some layer of depth of deeper reasoning for what they did. And even if you consider pink to be the real villain. The same goes for her. Evil is not inherent, just like all terrible thoughts and behavior patterns. Like racism isn't inherent, or bias or prejudice. These are behavioral traits that are TAUGHT. If a killer raises a child. That child may not think killing is wrong. Pink was raised where she was an important person who had a right to everything she wanted and her desires took priority. Once something didn't serve a purpose she was expected to get rid of it. And gems were treated like objects. They were used for walls, decorative statues. Even aquamarine said topaz was of no use to her. And was prepared to get rid of her. we know this is wrong but they don't. Not all of them anyway. Even the off colors thought they were in the wrong for being themselves. It's not as if she did all of this because she wanted to hurt those around her. She did everything how she did because she was taught to think that way or behave that way. We become the people we are through nature AND nurture. But one can have more sway on someone depending on their upbringing. Abd abusive upbringing like pink endured is bound to drill homeworlds ideals into her head that much more. Especially since she tried to go against the grain and was punished constantly for trying to save things and be better.

And a lot of complaints I see is that "if she tried to explain her feelings to the diamonds none of this would happen" but everyone seems to forget. SHE DID TRY. In the episode where ruby and sapphire split and pearl explains everything she shows that pink diamond DID try. But was scolded for it. And was ignored. Just like how white ignored blue and yellow. She used all her authority but it meant nothing. She felt trapped and took an out. She tried to make a change. It started a spark that leads to a rebellion. Gems thinking for themselves. Being themselves. She did do good things. She tried to leave as much good as she had. But she didn't really know good and bad. She is still responsible for her failures and actions. But it's so so SO wrong to just slap a label on her calling her pure evil like she WANTED to do all that damage. Its the same as calling someone a hero despite any terrible things in their past that may have lead up to that. It's fine to classify her as an antagonist because yes. She caused problems for the main character and everyone around them. But it's not ok to ignore the meanings and cause behind it. We all knew pink/rose wasn’t A good person. But it's not ok to belittle her and act like her suffering and upbringing played no part.

It just upsets me when people ignore the history of someone. And I repeat THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE HER ACTIONS but that doesn't mean its ok to label someone based on their mistakes. No. Rose isn't a good person. She didn't know how to be. But that doesn't mean shes a cruel villainess. It means she was hurt early on and never fully recovered.

People who come from abuse can rise higher than their oast and tey to be better. And sometimes they can get stuck in their past and never learn from it. But that doesn't mean it's from a lack of wanting to be better. They may just not know-how.

This explains pinks behavior. And why she isn't an ANTAGONIST. She wasn't ACTIVELY trying to harm anyone or ruin anything. She even REFUSED TO SHATTER GEMS. She had a semblance of right and wrong and what was too far, but that's as far as it went. Additionally, by the time the show takes place, Pink is gone and can no longer actively do anything against steven or the crystal gems.

So. My thoughts on Pink/Rose

Not a good person and not justified in her actions, but came off the bedside of an abusive childhood and was never taught better. Just because she's done a lot of bad things doesn't mean bashing her is ok. Try and think of it like real life. Not everyone becomes better after abuse. And not everyone has the influences and tools needed to become better after abuse. We learn right and wrong from the people around us, so what if no one around us knows proper right and wrong?

Not looking to argue and you can reply with your thoughts if you want. But that doesn't really mean ill respond (im sure ill be flooded with people telling me why I'm wrong lol)

I would go on but I feel like this is too long already

[queenmina37]

#166: Partners

Yusei was 12 years old when his parents died.

It was a tragic accident, people said, sending pitying looks to him. He had spent most of the time between hearing of their deaths and the funeral just… numb. Looking in front of himself, but never seeing anything.

He was just 12 years old. How could his parents be dead? How could he survive, from here on out?

He was lucky, he knew that. He had his uncles, Rudger and Rex, and their sons Jack and Crow, who were both more like brothers to him. He was lucky that Rudger and his wife, Martha, had taken him in and he didn’t need to go into an orphanage, or worse yet, into the foster care system. He was lucky that even when his parents were dead, he had a safety net, a family who helped him through it all.

But then, barely a year later… the infamous hacker, Playmaker, released the information.

Yusei was mad. He was so mad. Jack was more vocal about his anger, but that didn’t mean that Yusei was less angry than him. Martha was horrified. Rudger was on the phone for most of that day, shouting and trying to get a hold of Rex.

Rex disappeared, like ashes to wind. Crow came to live with them, too. Crow, who was subdued, but angry, so very angry at the world and his father.

Yusei never blamed him. Only Rex.

As time went on, Rex wasn’t found. They never forgot, but they… started accepting it.

But they were still angry, all three of them. And at some point, that turned into going out and trying to get rid of that anger.

That’s how they met Kiryu. They all became quick friends. They hung out together.

It started with duels. They took part in unofficial duels in downtown. From there, they discovered the underground dueling circles. And then it was gambling, then it was smoking, thievery, alcohol, drugs, even an assault… By the time Yusei turned 14 years old, they were pretty much a gang with a reputation in the underground dueling circles. No, not just the underground dueling circles. They were a gang with a reputation, though not so big that people were after them.

Then Kiryu started falling. They didn’t realize until he hit Crow when he disagreed with him on something, though. Jack, the oldest of them, managed to get all three of them out of the toxic situation rather fast.

But Kiryu was still their friend. And with no one else to go to, they told Rudger. They told him everything.

He wasn’t proud. He was quite disappointed in all three of them, actually. But he made some calls, and only a few days later, Kiryu was admitted into a mental hospital. A few days later, he nearly killed himself. He was saved, but he fell into a coma he still hadn’t woken up from, years later.

Meanwhile, Jack, Yusei and Crow confessed everything to Security. After a trial that was kept completely hushed up from the media and everyone not involved in it, the three were forced to do just a few months’ worth of community service, and they were all made to go to therapy. Jack had issues with anger management, and Yusei and Crow had a lot of issues that hadn’t been dealt with, purely because they had stuffed them inside them and ignored them for years by then.

Yusei noted that Jack became calmer, over time. Crow became relaxed, somehow. They both went to therapy less.

He didn’t. He still felt like he was holding the world on his shoulders, like he did when his parents died, and he continued to go to therapy.

It was during one of those visits that he met her.

Considering that he was a Fudo, that he had been born and lived his whole life in the Tops, he knew of the Izayois. His father had been the lead scientist for M.I.D.S. until his death, and he had attended more than a few parties over the years. Yusei and his mother had been dragged along most often, too. Obviously, he knew of the Izayois. He had met them, too, if only briefly.

However, he had thought they only had a daughter.

“I’m adopted”, the boy with dark blue hair, light blue bangs with pink accents, Yusaku, said. “The Izayois aren’t my real family.”

Huh. He, too? “… Do you mind me asking…?”

“My family?” Clearly, he heard the question often enough. Yusei didn’t, and he hadn’t realized that until then. Everyone knew of the tragedy that was the murder of the Fudo couple, nowadays, so no one thought to bring it up with him. Only his therapist did, but… “They died sometime when I was six. I don’t know when.”

How odd. “You don’t know?”

He shrugged his shoulders, giving him a dry look. “There’s a reason I’m at the therapist’s, and it has nothing to do with my family.”

“… Does it work, though?”

“To some, it does.” Yusaku sat down next to him in the waiting area. “I know it helped some. But I’ve been coming to therapy for almost ten years now.”

Yusei tensed up. Ten years? “… That’s… I don’t even know what to say. I’d go crazy.”

“You can’t go crazy if you already are crazy.” Yusaku closed his eyes briefly.

Yusei couldn’t help but think of Kiryu. “… What happened?”

“Are you a therapist now?”

“No.” Yusei crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. “But neither of us actually gets anything out of these therapy sessions, and I’m curious.”

Yusaku stared at him for a while. “Then it’s polite to tell before asking others to.”

Yusei cringed. “My uncle murdered my parents when I was 12, then I got pulled into some bad circles, did some crimes and got my best friend sent to a mental institution where he tried to kill himself. He’s still in a coma, and the doctors don’t think he’ll wake up.”

Yusaku hummed. Nodding, he spoke. “I was kidnapped when I was 6 years old. I was locked up and forced to duel. If I won, I got to eat. If I lost, I was electrocuted. I was saved 6 months later alongside the other 5 kids. My parents died during those 6 months and I was put into an orphanage, where the Izayois found me when I was around 10 years old.”

Yusei’s eyes widened. His story made his own problems seem small. Kidnapped and tortured, at age 6? What kind of sick monster did something like that?

For a while, they sat there, in silence. Then, Yusaku continued. “I’ve found… a lot of the times, it’s because the culprit wasn’t caught, which causes the problems.”

Yusei tensed up.

“They never caught who did it. Who kidnapped and tortured us.” Yusaku curled his hands into fists. “… Just like they never caught Rex Goodwin.”

Yusei hadn’t thought of it like that. Never before had he thought that that was the root of his problems. That they never caught his uncle, who had murdered his parents and very nearly gotten away with it. He would have gotten away with it, if not for Playmaker. But even when he had been exposed… he hadn’t been caught. Even years later, no one could find him. He was still out there… and now that he thought of it, the knowledge fueled the fire, the problems inside his head.

“… Does it ever get better?” Yusei looked up at the ceiling and ran a hand through his hair.

Yusaku was silent for a moment. “… Not really. But it becomes bearable after a while.”

“… And about catching the culprits?”

“Not an easy job. Trust me.”

Yusei wasn’t stupid. He was, in fact, very intelligent and perceptive. Little things about him, like how he tensed up every time Rex was mentioned, how he looked almost guilty when he spoke of his parents’ murder… “Playmaker?”

“… I found the information by accident. Didn’t feel like I should withhold it.”

“Why were you there to begin with?”

“The incident where I got kidnapped was called the Hanoi Project. There were hints that suggested Rex Goodwin was involved.”

Yusei closed his eyes and thought of that for a while. Hanoi Project. Rex Goodwin, who he had thought of as an uncle for most of his life, being involved with that. Rex Goodwin, who had murdered his parents.

“… He’s not dead.”

“He isn’t caught, either.”

“Which means he’s hiding and avoiding the Security.”

“He’s good at it, too, to have stayed hidden so long.”

Turning his upper body towards him, Yusei spoke. “Wanna try finding him?”

Yusaku looked at him. Turning his own body to him, he spoke. “I’m good with technology. Hacking Security is pretty easy. But I can just barely do any push-ups.”

“I’m pretty good with technology, though hacking Security hasn’t been an objective before.” Yusei smiled. “And I pack quite a mean punch.”

“I figured.” The smallest of smiles appeared on Yusaku’s lips. “You know the clown?”

The clown? “You mean Jaeger?”

“Rex Goodwin’s assistant.” Yusaku nodded. “From what I’ve gathered, he’s been seen in Den City, and has been referenced to being pretty high up in the local company, SOL Technologies.”

Oh. Yusei knew Jaeger. Jaeger had disappeared with Rex, and there was no doubt that he was still sticking close to his parents’ murderer. “Den City, you said?”

Yusaku nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before talking. “So… are you in?”

Yusei smirked. “If it means getting to punch Rex Goodwin before Security gets to him? Absolutely.”

He blinked. Then, turning his head a little to hide an amused smile, he said. “… Get a good hit in for me as well.”

Leaning back on his seat, Yusei felt himself relax. For the first time in a long time, since his parents’ deaths, he felt like he could breathe. He felt like he could see. He felt like he could feel. He looked forward to something. “Maybe I’ll get two hits in for both of us.”

Sharing a look and smiles, they became silent. But from then on, whenever they ended up at the therapist’s office at the same time, until they both were cleared… they sat side-by-side.

And when Yusei turned 18 years old and Yusaku turned 16 years old… They disappeared.

Only for Yusei to make a reappearance when Security ran into the office of Rex Goodwin within SOL Technologies, only to find the man begging on his knees, with Yusei above him, his gloved hands dirtied with the blood of the man who had killed his parents and who had been the true mastermind behind the Hanoi Project.