#just because I understand their words rather than their body language doesn’t mean they convey concepts to me that they don’t to you

[absol-lutely]

I think if a creature, human or mon, has sufficient intelligence/higher-level thoughts, it’s by default a person. I also think that if, somehow, deoxys came to me and said “I’m not a person, I’m a space virus and I like it”, then I’d respect that. Honestly feels like pronoun choices: they are called people unless they have another preference, but they can say that they feel otherwise and everyone should then respect that.

Culture check; technically a follow up to my poll about how many legendaries/mythicals people believe in and how they believe in them.

[wolf-and-bard]

So, I wrote a Lambert x Aiden thing because of a conversation I had with @littoraly-art, so here we go. It’s hurt/comfort, but very much on the angsty side.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: explicit language, (brief) mentions of self-harming behaviour

You can also read it on AO3 if you want to

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The hunt didn’t go according to plan. Lambert underestimated the amount of ghouls that would crawl out of that shithole and fought them well into the night, dodging and striking, dodging and striking for hours on end. They chased him through the forest and branches whipped at him. More than once, did he narrowly escape their bites and when they were dealt with and he stumbled back to light a bomb in the nest, he wasn’t fast enough on the retreat. His ears still ring and white spots dance at the margins of his vision. Lambert only notices that he’s overdosed on Thunderbolt when he’s already back at the inn he booked for the night, two ales down, and his muscles are still taut, ready to strike, while his sense of self-preservation has plummeted. Fuck. His fingers shake as he gestures for another drink. Sweat gathers at his collar, at the small of his back. He wants to sleep and rest, but he won’t be able to, not with the residue adrenaline.

“Lambert?” someone says and Lambert hunches his shoulders. Maybe if he hides his face, he won’t be recognized. But Aiden’s already emerged from the crowd and, anyway, he would have smelled Lambert the moment he set foot into the building.

“It is you!” Aiden saunters over, all neat bun and scandalously tight gear, his brown hair looking almost black in the downcast light of the inn. His smile is brilliant as he takes the chair opposite Lambert. Takes Lambert’s hands and inspects them for wounds before bringing them to his lips. “Hey, there, pup,” he murmurs against Lambert’s knuckles. Lambert’s heart does skip a beat, but with that comes a flare of anger. Aiden doesn’t get to be lovey and cheerful when Lambert wants to crawl out of his own skin. He hums something indiscernible.

“What is it? Talk to me.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, really? Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” Aiden says mockingly, letting Lambert’s hands go. “What? Oh, yes, it is good to see me, isn’t it? How I am? I’m so glad you asked. I managed to haggle a big fat fee on a rock troll couple that were mating up in the mountains and causing avalanches and now I’m drowning in coin. Pretty crazy, right? If I made it okay? Aww, sweetie, there’s no need to worry. Haven’t got a scratch on me. You wanna hear more about it? No, of course it isn’t too much to ask, I will happily oblige.” 

"Just... leave me alone," Lambert cuts in, and lifts his tankard to veil his face. He's good at hiding his emotion, but in the face of whatever this is and with the day he's had... well, his boundaries are more than probed.

“What? So, you can give yourself a sorry hand-job and cry yourself to sleep? No, sir, that would be incredibly pathetic and a crime against humanity.” Aiden smiles and before Lambert can keep drinking, he’s snatched the tankard away and emptied it himself. Great. Now there isn’t even that to hide behind. Lambert likes Aiden, he really does. On most occasions, he’s so overjoyed to see him that he doesn’t recognize himself. Aiden makes him feel… too many things to think about right now. Today though, Lambert’d rather be alone.

“None of your business.”

"Fine, have it your way" Aiden says with a good-natured shrug and, humming, stands. He makes a beeline for the nearest table full of average-to-handsome soldiers with the Temerian blazon on their chests, and slams a hand down on the table. His hips are cocked out, his smile sly, exposing overly sharp canines. They all look up at him with varying degrees of surprise, realisation. “Any of you boys down to fuck a mutant?” Lambert's blood runs cold, he’s had enough of this. He hurls his empty tankard across the room, angling just so he doesn't hit anyone - though no guarantee on the rebound – and leaves.

His armour, clothes and swords are scattered across the small room he rented by the time he makes it into bed, wearing only thin cotton smallclothes. He sits not two minutes, contemplating whether to go asleep or order himself more alcohol to dull the edge of his frustration even further, when Aiden comes into the room, no knock, no courtesy.

“Aren’t you off sucking flaccid cock? Or are you already done the whole lot of them?” Lambert spits, and crosses his arms over his bare chest. Aiden’s eyes darken and he shuts the door behind himself, forceful enough that it rattles, then slips out of his own armour and boots without much ceremony. “Go get your own room, asshole.”

“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” Aiden replies in a measured manner. All his earlier aloofness is gone, replaced by a gravity Lambert has a hard time looking at. Aiden sorts both their stuff into neat piles, then takes Lambert’s swords to the corner chair. Lambert stares at his own knees, but he can hear every tiny movement of Aiden’s hands as he cleans Lambert’s swords, inspects them for chips, pulls out a whetstone to restore their edge. The amount of care this alone conveys almost brings tears to Lambert’s eyes. Aiden could be deep-throating handsome soldiers right now, but instead he’s here, doing for Lambert what he doesn’t have the energy left to do for himself.

When he’s done the swords, Aiden does the same to his own pair, then examines the two sets of armour plating for tears or gashes that need mending. He lines up both chests of potions and counts out what’s missing, takes notes for ingredients. It’s a normal routine, only that usually, each witcher does it for himself. Lambert feels a mixture of embarrassment and affection heat his cheeks, but he doesn’t look up, not yet. Only when Aiden finishes with a soft exhale and wanders over to the bed which dips under his weight, does Lambert uncross his arms. Dares to take a peek. Fuck. He shouldn’t have. Aiden’s pupils are wide in the starlight that falls through the single window, the moon painting him in blues and silvers. Some of his hair has escaped his bun and his lips part on a sigh that expose his teeth. He’s a fucking vision, too gorgeous to be sitting here.

For once, there is quiet, so rare with the two of them. If Lambert lets go of consciousness a little more, it almost feels like a dream. If it were, he would reach out, draw Aiden onto his lap, lose himself in the familiar glide of their bodies against one another. As it is, the silence hangs by a thread and Lambert cuts it, edges fraying into dust between them.

“What,” he barks and Aiden sighs again.

“The only cock I want to suck is yours, idiot. Flaccid or not.

“Is that so?”

“Yes? I thought I had made that abundantly clear.” Aiden has. There have probably been more blowjobs than nights they shared a bed, altogether. And maybe that’s the problem. Aiden might not seem it now, but one day Lambert’s cock will not be enough to make up for his mouth.

"Why were you so obnoxious then?" he asks.

"Because you need to learn not to push me away, Lamb. I'm here, I understand, I'm yours." Three quick sentences that puncture Lambert like barbed arrows. I'm here feels like sparks of an off-kilter Igni that eat at his fingertips. I understand goes right to his gut and makes him feel like he is out on the rocky sea, in a rickety boat all by himself, at the storm's mercy. I'm yours is the lightning that strikes then and short-circuits his nervous system into small spams. He takes a deep breath and the soft kiss Aiden places on the corner of his mouth when he leans over helps quell the panic. "I can't change how I am," he says. Prickly, loud-mouthed, mean.

"You really aren't... no, that's not gonna work, is it? C’mere." Aiden crawls over the bed and settles next to Lambert, draws him against him, his strong arms wrapped firmly around Lambert's bare chest. Lambert's head is throbbing lightly, heartrate kept accelerated from the alcohol, but he deflates a little. Notices the small vial with almost clear liquid Aiden is holding between his index and middle finger. “You didn’t drink it, did you?”

Lambert shrugs. So, maybe he forgot to take the White Honey, fucked-up as he was. So, maybe he didn’t want to take it, stay fucked-up a little longer. He has days like this, where the lingering toxicity of the potions stokes some dark flame deep inside of him, kindled by his hatred for what he is, what he has become. Lambert isn’t prone to self-harm, but this, well. This he is prone to and Aiden is seeing right through him. Fucking cat, fucking.... is this love yet?

“I didn’t.”

“So, do it now.” Aiden uncorks the bottle with one hand and his grip on Lambert tightens so that he would have to struggle to escape it. For a moment, Lambert thinks about refusing. He wants to wallow, dammit, he wants to pity himself and maybe have Aiden pity him too. “Don’t think about it, pup. You can bullshit your way around other people, but not around me,” Aiden continues and holds the vial to Lambert’s lips. Lambert snatches it away and empties it in two long drags. Immediately, his vision sharpens and his lungs clear. His muscles stop trembling and his heartrate settles into its normal, mutated rhythm. “Better?”

“Better,” Lambert agrees sulkily. He tosses the vial aside and sinks back against Aiden.

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?” Aiden says with a sharp edge to his voice, but he noses at Lambert’s ear, under it, breath hot over the skin of Lambert’s throat.

“You’re the one that’s stupid…” Stupid for caring for me. Stupid for still being here.

“Will you stop it already? I’m trying so hard to be patient and you keep pushing me away. Did you forget who I am? What we share?”

“I didn’t,” Lambert says. He is weak and tired. He lets Aiden tug at his chin and half-turn him for a kiss that lingers even after their lips part for breath.

“Then drop the farce. Fuck, I don’t know what to say to you,” Aiden whispers against his mouth, chasing each word with a kiss to Lambert’s lips, the corners of his mouth, his nose. “I love you, Lambert, I love you so fucking much, but I can’t keep prying you out of your shell. Don’t you trust me?”

I want to love you too, Lambert thinks.

With my life, Lambert thinks.

You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Lambert thinks.

But he isn’t ready for that yet and so he settles for the next best thing: “I’m sorry.” The rest of it he pours into their next kiss, one that feels frozen in time for how slow and indulgent it is, the world reduced to the drag of their lips and the scratch of Aiden’s canines, the stuttering of his breath. Lambert wriggles around until he straddles Aiden’s lap with his thighs and frames Aiden’s tanned face with his scarred, pale fingers. Even paler next to his lover. Aiden fucking glows and Lambert is less a man, more a phantom next to him.

“Fuck, puppy, you’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Aiden gasps when they part once more. His hands are splayed over Lambert’s upper back and they are both half-hard against one another, but Lambert doesn’t feel like sex. He feels like curling up and having a good cry. He feels like kissing Aiden again, and so he does.

“And here I am, trying so hard to hide it so you peasants don’t feel bad about yourselves,” Lambert says, on instinct more than anything else. He wants to slap himself, this is exactly what Aiden meant, isn’t it? But Aiden laughs, the fucker, a clear sound that sets loose something fluttery inside of Lambert. Shit. It is love. “I thought the scar would have done the job.”

“Joke’s on you, I adore the scar.” Aiden presses his lips to the bottom of it and drags them along, skipping Lambert’s eye in favour of nuzzling his forehead. It’s ridiculous. It tickles. Lambert laughs and hides his face in Aiden’s neck. Aiden sighs and his hands wander up to Lambert’s head, cradling it. “Promise me something, pup?”

Anything, Lambert thinks. He grunts.

“Allow yourself this. I don’t need you to fall onto your knees and profess your love in some grand gesture, but… don’t shut me out. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lambert falls asleep like that, tucked against Aiden’s chest and he wakes in the morning facing the sunrise with an arm slung around his bare torso and Aiden’s nose pressed against the nape of his neck. He allows it to last.

[bpro-cardstories]

Hikaru Osari SSR ーRequestー

2018 ー Power To Smile [笑顔にする力]

"Uhm, it’s really not a big deal, you know. The other day I happened to see a charity event where they raised money, but other than watching I couldn’t do anything.”

『Event: Heart Pounding! Happening VACATION (16th - 27th August 2018)』

Part 1

ーIn the waiting room.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for the recording. I will give you the materials for the next photoshoot.’ 

Kazuna: ‘Thanks. We’ll take a good look at them.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Please do so.’ 

Mikado: ‘It is already next week, time sure flies fast. We need to think about what to do when we arrive.’ 

Momotaro: ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone somehow looks excited. What are you talking about?’

Kazuna: ‘It’s about the Hawaii trip this time.’ 

Momotaro: ‘Hikaru got the answers right in the quiz show last time, so everyone won a trip to Hawaii.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That was amazing, wasn’t it. He won the first prize by solving the last question correctly.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Yeah. That kind of thing is a first, right?’

Kazuna: ‘Yes. Outside of work, we didn’t have the opportunity to go on vacation together privately. We need to thank Hikaru for it.’ 

Mikado: ‘Yes, I am looking forward to it. And I was talking about the trip while looking up the information on Hawaii that I gathered.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I understand now.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Speaking of Hikaru, he said that he wants a new swimsuit to wear for Hawaii.’ 

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

Hikaru: ‘Eh? Aah, sorry! I was in a daze just now.’ 

Momotaro: ‘Did something happen?’

Hikaru: ‘No, it’s not that something happened…..’

Tsubasa: ‘If it is fine, would you want to speak about it?’

Hikaru: ‘Uhm, it’s really not a big deal, you know. The other day I happened to see a charity event where they raised money, but other than watching I couldn’t do anything.’

Hikaru: ‘Ever since then I’ve been thinking about what more I can do for people that has a lasting effect. It’s all I've done since that day, but nothing comes to mind.’ 

Kazuna: ‘I see. That’s why you’ve been absent-minded.’

Mikado: ‘Hikarun, that matter is a very important one I think, but if you think too much about it, then you become stubborn and good ideas can not enter.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘He’s right. Let your head rest a bit. The Hawaii trip is perfect for this.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Yep, you’re right! If I can refresh on this trip, then maybe some good thoughts pop up!’

Kazuna: ‘Speaking of which, I looked it up yesterday. It looks like there’s a big shopping mall near the beach we’ll be going to.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘If so, then you probably can buy a swimsuit there, too.’ 

Hikaru: ‘That sounds great! I’m so excited, there seem to be patterns that are unique to Hawaii~!’

Hikaru: ‘Alright, I’ll buy a swimsuit, swim a lot in the ocean and relax both my body and mind!’ 

(Something you can do yourself, huh….. I hope Hikaru-kun can get something out of this trip.)

Part 2

ーIn Hawaii.ー

Hikaru: ‘Hmm….. Which one should I take…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hikaru, did you still not decide?’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, I haven't yet! Peachan, which one is better, the blue or pink swimsuit?’

Momotaro: ‘….. The coloured one is the blue swimsuit, and the patterned one is the pink one.’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, exactly! Both are hard to discard~. I beg you, everyone! Decide for me which to go with! Majority vote, please!’

Mikado: ‘When we exclude Hikarun and Tsubasa-san, four people are left, so there is no majority vote.’

Momotaro: ‘….. I abstain from voting. I also can’t decide which one is better.’ 

Mikado: ‘Good, then me, leader and Tatsu-dono will be the majority vote! I go with the pink swimsuit.’

Kazuna: ‘For me it’s the blue one, I guess.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘It’s the pink one for me.’

Momotaro: ‘Two against one for the pink swimsuit.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Okay! Then it’s the pink one! Thanks for deciding in my stead!’ _______

Hikaru: ‘I’m so happy that I could buy a swimsuit I like~! Ah, since we’re already here, why not take a look in the mall a bit? I spotted an unusual store earlier…..’

Hikaru: ‘Ngh,  wahwah!?’

Foreign Tourist: ‘Ouuh!?’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun!?’

Hikaru: ‘Ah, I have chocolate ice cream all over my clothes….. ‘

(How terrible, it was the moment when he bumped into the tourist who had ice cream with him….. )

Tsubasa: ‘Please wait a moment! I will give you something to wipe, uhm, the handkerchief…..’

Hikaru: ‘Tsubasa-chan, it’s alright! I can wash this amount off, everything’s fine!’

Tsubasa: ‘Eh, but….. ‘

Hikaru: ‘Ah, the person I bumped into also has ice cream on his clothes!’

Hikaru: ‘Well, in such a case, you can say “sorry”….. With the translation app, but you can’t say anything more difficult.’

Momotaro: ‘What is Hikaru doing?’

Mikado: ‘He is trying to tell the person who he bumped into something. Let me see….. ‘

Mikado: ‘ “If you put the clothes into hot water, then the chocolate ice cream won’t stain too much.”, he says. I see.’ 

Foreign Tourist: ‘Ooh! Thank you!’

Hikaru: ‘Yes, yes! No problem!’* 

Kazuna: ‘A-Amazing….. It looks like a friendship sprung from the passionate handshake between Hikaru and the tourist.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Fuu~, I’m glad I could tell him~.’

Tsubasa: ‘Even though it was an unexpected matter, your handling of it was wonderful. Hikaru-kun, how amazing!’

Hikaru: ‘That’s only natural, if you ask me! I’m joking though ♪. Since I have little brothers, it’s natural that I know about methods to remove stains and have mastered that skill.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I understand now.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘It will be crowded inside the mall, too, so why not go to the beach? Let’s come back here when it has calmed down a bit.’ 

Hikaru: ‘True! Alright, let’s go swimming!’

Hikaru: ‘….. Hm? Eeeh!?’

Kazuna: ‘Hikaru, what’s wrong?’

Hikaru: ‘The Japanese tourists we just passed were talking about how they couldn’t go into the ocean….. ‘

Tsubasa: ‘Eh?’

Part 3

Hikaru: ‘Haa~, playing that was super fun!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Yeah, it wasn’t the beach, but the pool was fun as well in the end.’ 

Goshi: ‘Who would have thought that we’d be banned from swimming due to a mass outbreak of jellyfish.’

Hikaru: ‘So true! Well, it’s a bit of a pity, but the pool was fun, so the result is alright!’

Yuta: ‘The water slide was so cool! I wanted to slide more~!’

Kento (sighs): ‘Because my hair won’t be damaged by the salty sea breeze, I agreed to go to the pool, but to think that the water slide turned my bangs into a mess…..

Yuta: ‘Kenken, it’s impossible to maintain the shape of your bangs in the water slide~.’ 

Goshi: ‘Geez, you really don't know when to stop even when at the pool.’

Kento: ‘Be quiet. I was thinking of simply idling at the poolside, but Yuta forced me to come to the water slide.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I am glad, you all seemed to have enjoyed yourself, everyone.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Yep, it just happened without much thinking~!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Now that you mentioned it, Hikaru, weren’t you playing with a foreign child in the pool earlier?’

Yuta: ‘Ah, I also saw that! You both were super excited and hit it off well! That child isn’t perhaps Hikarun’s acquaintance, right?’

Hikaru: ‘Nope, not at all. We only came to know each other at that moment.’

Kento (surprised): ‘Even though you didn’t understand the language, you got along that well.’ 

Hikaru: ‘It’s all about the feelings here! If you can convey that it’s fun, then words aren’t needed, are they? The rest you do with body language!’

Yuta: ‘Nothing less expected of Hikarun!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Since Hikaru has a lot of younger siblings, he might just be used to it.’ 

Kento: ‘Even at the handshake event children often lined up for Hikaru, that’s probably because of that.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Hmm, I don’t really understand it myself, but that might be the reason?’ 

Yuta: ‘Ah, there’s a beach volleyball court over there! Let’s go check it out!’

Kento: ‘Definitely no. I’ll get sunburned.’

Goshi (sighs): ‘Not to mention, you’re still in the mood to play?’

Yuta: ‘We’re already here in Hawaii, so even if we can’t go into the ocean, it’s a waste to not fully enjoy the beach! Come on, Gochin, Kenken~!’

Goshi: ‘Uohh! Don’t push me, Ashu!’

Kenken: ‘Wait. You really want to go?’

Yuta: ‘Of course! Let’s go ♪.’

Yuta: ‘Tsubasa-chan, come with us!’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, uhm, I…..’

(Since Hawaii's schedule was hard, I rather want to take a small break…..) 

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hikaru, what about you?’

Hikaru: ‘Maybe I should take a break~. I used up too much stamina in the pool. I’ll rest over there under the parasol. Tsubasa-chan, will you come with me?’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes.’

Yuta: ‘Nomecchi!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Alright. Then I’ll go with those three and tell them about it.’

Hikaru: ‘Thanks, Tatsu!’

Hikaru: ‘Okay, shall we go, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes!’

(….. Huh? Hikaru-kun seems to look fine?)

Part 4

Hikaru: ‘Fuu~, I played a bit too much.’

Tsubasa: ‘Are you fine not going to play with everyone?’

Hikaru: ‘Yep! Tsubasa-chan, you’re tired, right? I’ll also take a short rest!’

(Was Hikaru-kun maybe worried about me…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry. I made you accompany me.’

Hikaru: ‘Wrong, wrong! I really wanted to rest! Don’t worry about that.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘And you know, I became used to resting under the parasol like this~! Doesn’t it feel like we’re celebrities?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, you are right. In movies as well, you see scenes where celebrities sleep in a beach chair.’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, that! My dream came true!’

Hikaru: ‘Say, are you enjoying Hawaii, Tsubasa-chan?’

Tsubasa: ‘Of course. It is thanks to Hikaru-kun that I am also able to enjoy Hawaii in this way. Thank you very much!’

Hikaru: ‘No way, I only won the quiz show by chance. I didn’t do anything.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘No, I did mean the quiz show, but it is also because of Hikaru-kun’s cheerfulness that I am enjoying this Hawaii trip.’

Hikaru: ‘Hehe, I see!’

Tsubasa: ‘Hawaii really is a wonderful place. Both the scenery and the food are superb.’

Hikaru: ‘Yep, Hawaii sure is great!’

Hikaru: ‘I was thinking that if I give my family an overseas trip someday, Hawaii might be a good choice. They’ll probably be impressed by the different scenery and food compared to Japan.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That sounds lovely. You always think about your family and respect them a lot.’ 

Hikaru (blushes): ‘Hehe, thanks!’

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Hikaru: ‘This is about the charity event from the other day. Until now, the source of me being able to give my best as an idol was that I had to work hard as the backbone for my family. Seeing that event, I thought that I need to have a broader perspective and want to cheer up even more people.’

Hikaru: ‘Just as I thought, isn’t it delightful to see everyone smiling!’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘As an idol standing in front of people I have ways to communicate with everyone more than normal people, so it would be a waste to not use this asset! ….. That’s what I think, but how I should do it, I don’t know.’ 

(A method only Hikaru-kun can manage…..)

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, how about thinking in a more simpler way?’

Hikaru: ‘A more simpler way?’

Part 5

Hikaru: ‘Think simpler….. Hmm?’

Tsubasa: ‘On this trip, you bumped into a foreign tourist and got ice cream on your clothes, but in the end you shaked hands together with a smile. It was clear that the child Hikaru-kun played with in the pool had a lot of fun.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun was worried about me being tired and even brought me to this parasol to sit under. That made me very happy. When being with Hikaru-kun everyone smiles. I think Hikaru-kun possesses the power to make people smile.’   

Hikaru: ‘I make everyone smile….. I didn’t come to think about this at all.’

Tsubasa: ‘That is fine I think. You do not need to do something for someone’s sake, it is fine if you do what you want to do little by little.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Do what I want to do, huh…..’

Hikaru: I see, it looks like I was thinking too much about it. I will do my best as I always did! Thanks, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I am happy I could help you.’

Hikaru: ‘Tsubasa-chan, too, if you are troubled, don’t hold back and say so!’

Hikaru: ‘If I possess the power to make people smile, then I want to make Tsubasa-chan smile the most!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘Let’s do our best together from now on as well!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! I will work even harder as your A&R!’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah!’

Tsubasa: ‘When I was talking with Hikaru-kun like this, my tiredness disappeared completely.’

Hikaru: ‘Really? Then let’s join beach volleyball with the others!’

Tsubasa: ‘Sure!’

Hikaru: ‘Yay! First of all, let’s enjoy Hawaii and get in touch with the various people and things here! I want to absorb so many things on this trip and then go home!’ 

Hikaru: ‘Let’s go, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes!’

(Hikaru-kun really is a caring and kind person…..)

END ____________________

* Hikaru actually says this in English. 

[aspoonofsugar]

Hello, I would like to know what you think about the discussion that Cinder and Watts had.

It is interesting to note that what Watts tells Cinder is that her suffering doesn't make her strong or special or worthy of anything and by extension Watts tells Cinder that as much as she pretends that her suffering made her strong in reality she is still quite fragile and vulnerable because she hasn't been able to overcome her trauma and still wants to give meaning to her life and suffering.

Hello anons!

These two asks can be answered together.

First of all, I really liked that scene! It is probably my favourite moment of the episode together with the sequence in the underground.

I think there are two ways to see Watts and Cinder’s interaction in the episode.

1) Cinder

Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.

As I have written here:

Cinder’s way of thinking is very similar to Mercury’s. Not only have they both endured their parents’ violence, but they have tried to give this violence meaning. It is because of Madame that Cinder has become “everything” and it is because of Marcus that Mercury has become “strong”. They must believe that it was not all for nothing and that the pain they felt made them stronger instead of weaker.

This is why Cinder thinks that deep down her “hunger” is good. It is because it drives her, but she ignores that it blinds her too.

The idea that suffering made her stronger and more deserving than others is Cinder’s main coping mechanism.

She was treated as nothing, so she needs to believe she is secretly worthy of things others are negated. As I have stated here, she deep down wants to be chosen:

I would say that Cinder wants to be chosen. She wants to be special and to be given value. This is probably why she is serving Salem. It is because Salem has chosen her for an important role.

Well, Watts’s speech is about exactly this:

Watts: You think you’re entitled to everything because you’ve suffered, but suffering isn’t enough. You can’t just be strong, you have to be smart. You can’t just be deserving, you need to be worthy.

In a couple of phrases he deconstructs Cinder’s coping mechanism and this is why she is made to feel so vulnerable.

The whole point of Cinder is that she should stop reducing herself to her trauma and pain. By doing so, she both dehumanizes herself and dismisses others.

She dehumanizes herself because she tries to overcome her inferiority complex by looking for power and she does not realize that this is turning her into a monster:

Raven: Aura can’t protect your arm, it’s Grimm. You turned yourself into a monster just for power.

She dismisses others because she is so focused on her own pain that she can’t notice others’.

In short, she must stop pretending everything revolves around her and should start working on herself and her own issues. This is thematically what Watts���s speech is about. It also ties to the teaching of the Fall Maiden about choice. Destiny is not something that is given to you, but something you work towards:

Pyrrha: When I think of destiny, I don’t think of a predetermined fate you can’t escape. But rather… some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.

Cinder is looking for worth outside herself. She wants Salem to recognize her and magical powers to be strong. She misses that self-worth is something only Cinder can grant herself.

However, things are not as simple in-universe because Watts is not referring to this in his speech. What he wants is not for Cinder to overcome her issues and to realize serving Salem is wrong. What Watts wants is for her to become better at her job.

Not only that, but in Watts’s speech there is hidden also this message that @luimnigh and @harostar have discussed here. Their posts are already clear, so I won’t spend much time on it.

The main idea is that Watts is worthy, while Cinder is not and how it goes back to their different upbringings and social status. In short, Watts is an Atlesian elite, while Cinder is a no-one, who was bought as a slave. Cinder keeps feeling this difference and can’t really break free from this kind of mentality.

That said, I think this last point gains more nuance when one looks at what this speech means for Watts himself.

2) Watts

Watts’s allusion is Watson and WoG says that he is Watson if he had connected with Moriarty instead of Sherlock. Personally, I think that as for now another good way to describe his allusion is that he is Watson if he were jealous of Sherlock instead of loyal to him.

As for now, Watts’s defining trait is his jealousy of Pietro Polendina and of his creation:

Watts: She’ll open the vault and she’ll destroy herself...And our little Penny problem would be...

It is not by chance that he wants to blow her up, even if that would not really be necessary. The Little Penny Problem he is talking about is really his problem and not Salem’s, who could not care less about Penny once she has the relic.

Watts wants to destroy Penny because he wants to be better than Pietro. Still, he misses why Pietro is better than him:

Watts: She’s on a set-path now...At least she should be...As much as I hate to admit it there seems to be some part of her capable of resisting...

As we know, the part of Penny who is capable of resisting is her humanity. Penny is a masterpiece not because she is a war machine, but because she is a real girl. This is the core of Pietro’s genius and this is what Watts can’t grasp:

Watts: Our tin soldier's heart has cost him his mind. We need to keep their attention on Mantle for as long as possible.

Watts, just like Ironwood, believes that feelings make you weak and stupid. Of course, this is the anti-thematic statement which has already been proven wrong over and over. Even when it comes to the situation above, Watts is actually being baited by Ironwood and him falling for it results in his arrest. The moment Ironwood is more open about his feelings is also the moment he is acting more logically.

In short, Watts is a brilliant scientist, who bought in Atlas’s ideology that you must pursue success at all costs. You must be strong/clever because only in this way you can be successful. If you let feelings cloud your determination/mind, you are a failure.

However, it is precisely this ideology taken to its extreme that is Watts’s own downfall.

He can’t understand Pietro’s ideal and is overshadowed by him. What is more, the idea of not being the first in his field drives him to disgrace.

His backstory makes so that Inside team WTCH Watts represents Salem’s entitlement.

This makes him similar to Cinder, as well. He is different from her for upbringing and status. Still, they both have the same flaw. They believe they are entitled to things.

Cinder does so because she has suffered. She was no-one, so now she must be the most important person in the world.

Watts does so because he was born an elite and he should stay an elite forever.

Watts is there not only to tell, but to show (both Cinder and the viewers) that the path Cinder is on leads nowhere. Watts had probably everything Cinder ever wanted. He was successful and rich. He did not have to worry about food or poverty. Still, that was not enough for him. He wanted more and this led him to betray his own country and to join a nihilistic witch.

In other words, Cinder will never find what she is looking for in power or success. Watts had both, but he is empty just like her. He is hungry just like her.

This is well conveyed symbolically by Watts being one of the very few characters that never unlocked his semblance. It means he never truly unlocked his full potential. He never truly understood who he wanted to be. He tried to be who his society wanted him to be, but he was not satisfied and decided to destroy it instead.

So, when Watts talks about the need to be smart and the difference between being deserving and worthy, he is actually talking about himself, probably without even realizing it. He is projecting his feelings of failure on Cinder. He was deserving, but not worthy. Pietro was the worthy one.

Other than these two, there is also another level to this confrontation that has been underlined by @misstrashchan​ here.

It is about the parallel between Cinder and Ironwood when it comes to their reactions to Watts spelling them the truth about themselves:

Ironwood: I will sacrifice... whatever it takes... to stop her.

Watts: Oh, I hope you do, James. I hope you do.

The difference, as the post above explains very well, is that Cinder is able to listen to Watts, while Ironwood ignores his words altogether.

This ties to how Ironwood’s inability to recognize his mistakes and to change his mind (literally what his semblance Mettle is about) is why he is the main villain in an arc where we are having the first redemption arc of one of our original trio of villains:

A redemption, which will probably be followed by other defections among the AceOps themselves.

In order to redeem one-self, a person must accept they were wrong and change their mind. Ironwood is unable to do so and this is why he is dangerous.

In conclusion, I love this confrontation because it is very complex, has many levels and is gray. In terms of complexity it reminds me of Tyrian’s interactions with Emerald and especially Mercury:

 Tyrian is seen tormenting the two kids whenever he gets the chance. That said, he ironically ends up spelling out for them truths the two must face:

Tyrian: Do what makes you happy children… please? I’m begging you…

Tyrian: Of course she is! You’re surprised? Salem is destruction incarnate! Our mistress wishes to see the end of it all! There is no ideal more beautiful.

Tyrian is a great evil mentor because he manages to spell out what Emerald and Mercury should do and to make sure through his body language that they are not able to. He tells them the truth and threathens them, so that they can’t pursue what they need.

Here, Watts tells Cinder the truth by lashing out about how she is so worthless, that a machine must do her job.

It is also interesting because both Emerald and Mercury are clearly set-up to have an evil mentor figure:

Emerald and Hazel’s foiling has already paid off, while Mercury and Tyrian’s will probably pay off in the future.

I am not sure if Cinder will have a similar foiling/relationship with Watts. Still, it is an interesting possibility. Especially because one thing I would really like to happen with the original villain trio is for the abuse and the manipulation they are subjected to backfire. I would like for them to break free (with others’ help obviously because they can’t free themselves alone) by taking all these thematic truths they are told, so they can be manipulated, and to change them in teachings they can use against their abusers.

In short, I want Cinder to say...”Yeah, I do not need to be deserving of power because I am already worthy on my own”. And I want Mercury to free himself and to tell Tyrian...”This is what makes me happy”.

I think that this has partly happened with Emerald in the sense that Salem’s tactic to weaken her loyalty to Cinder through fear backfired:

Salem: Emerald... I want you to tell me whose fault this was. Now

Emerald: Cinder! We failed because of Cinder...

Salem: That's right. I want you to understand that failure. I want you to understand why Cinder must be left to toil in her isolation until she redeems herself.

The whole point of this interaction was to make Emerald submissive. It is clear Emerald is there for Cinder and not for Salem, so Salem frightened her and forced her to symbolically “betray” Cinder.

Still, this did not work for two reasons.

a) Emerald needs to see Cinder for who she is, so that she can break free from her.

b) Fear is among the factors that motivated Emerald to leave:

Yang: You're gonna have to try and summarize it. Why should we trust you?

Ren: Because she's scared. Just like us.

Not only that, but in an inversion of what usually happens with fear in the series, it is specifically because Emerald and JOYR are all scared that they can overcome their conflict and work together (as @echo-from-the-void​. noticed). Fear has separated our protagonists from the AceOps, but has brought them Emerald.

These are my main thoughts on the scene, thank you for the asks!

[blackwoolncrown]

The defining feature of conversation is the expectation of a response. It would just be a monologue without one. In person, or on the phone, those responses come astoundingly quickly: After one person has spoken, the other replies in an average of just 200 milliseconds.

In recent decades, written communication has caught up—or at least come as close as it’s likely to get to mimicking the speed of regular conversation (until they implant thought-to-text microchips in our brains). It takes more than 200 milliseconds to compose a text, but it’s not called “instant” messaging for nothing: There is an understanding that any message you send can be replied to more or less immediately.

But there is also an understanding that you don’t have to reply to any message you receive immediately. As much as these communication tools are designed to be instant, they are also easily ignored. And ignore them we do. Texts go unanswered for hours or days, emails sit in inboxes for so long that “Sorry for the delayed response” has gone from earnest apology to punchline.

People don’t need fancy technology to ignore each other, of course: It takes just as little effort to avoid responding to a letter, or a voicemail, or not to answer the door when the Girl Scouts come knocking. As Naomi Baron, a linguist at American University who studies language and technology, puts it, “We’ve dissed people in lots of formats before.” But what’s different now, she says, is that “media that are in principle asynchronous increasingly function as if they are synchronous.”

The result is the sense that everyone could get back to you immediately, if they wanted to—and the anxiety that follows when they don’t. But the paradox of this age of communication is that this anxiety is the price of convenience. People are happy to make the trade to gain the ability to respond whenever they feel like it.

While you may know, rationally, that there are plenty of good reasons for someone not to respond to a text or an email—they’re busy, they haven’t seen the message yet, they’re thinking about what they want to say—it doesn’t always feel that way in a society where everyone seems to be on their smartphone all the time. A Pew survey found that 90 percent of cellphone owners “frequently” carry their phone with them, and 76 percent say they turn their phone off “rarely” or “never.” In one small 2015 study, young adults checked their phones an average of 85 times a day. Combine that with the increasing social acceptability of using your smartphone when you’re with other people, and it’s reasonable to expect that it probably doesn’t take that long for a recipient to see any given message.

“You create for people an environment where they feel as though they could be responded to instantaneously, and then people don’t do that. And that just has anxiety all over it,” says Sherry Turkle, the director of the Initiative on Technology and Self at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

It’s anxiety-inducing because written communication is now designed to mimic conversation—but only when it comes to timing. It allows for a fast back-and-forth dialogue, but without any of the additional context of body language, facial expression, and intonation. It’s harder, for example, to tell that someone found your word choice off-putting, and thus to correct it in real-time, or try to explain yourself better. When someone’s in front of you, “you do get to see the shadow of your words across someone else’s face,” Turkle says.

In last month’s viral New Yorker short story “Cat Person,” a young woman embarks on a failed romantic relationship with a man she meets at the movie theater where she works. They only go on one date in the story; they get to know each other primarily over text. When the affair ends messily, it reveals not only how the bubble of romantic expectations can be popped by reality’s needle, but also how weak digital communication is as a scaffolding on which to build an understanding of another person.

In an interview, the story’s author, Kristen Roupenian, said the piece was inspired by “the strange and flimsy evidence we use to judge the contextless people we meet outside our existing social networks, whether online or off.” Indeed, even for the people we already know, we increasingly rely on contextless forms of communication. This puts an unusually large burden on the words themselves (and maybe some emojis) to convey what is meant. And each message, and each pause in between messages, takes on outsize importance.

“Text messages become marks on rocks to be analyzed and sweated over,” Turkle says.

It’s not always easy to figure out what someone meant to convey by using a certain emoji, or by waiting three days to text you back. Different people have different ideas about how long it’s appropriate to wait to respond. As Deborah Tannen, a linguist at Georgetown University, wrote in The Atlantic, the signals that are sent by how people communicate online—the “metamessages” that accompany the literal messages—can easily be misinterpreted:

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

This metamessage opacity spawns thousands of other text messages a year, as people enlist their friends to help interpret exactly what their romantic interest meant by a certain turn of phrase, or whether a week-long radio silence means they’re being ghosted. (The New Yorker parodied this collaborative textual analysis in a video in which a group of women gather, war-room style, to answer the question “Was It a Date?”)

Features intended to add clarity—like read receipts or the little bubble with the ellipses in iMessage that tells you when someone is typing (which is apparently called the “typing awareness indicator”)—often just cause more anxiety, by offering definitive evidence for when someone is ignoring you or started to reply only to put it off longer.

* * *

But just because people know how stressful it can be to wait for a reply to what they thought would be an instant message doesn’t mean they won’t ignore others’ messages in turn.

Sometimes people don’t respond as a way of deliberately signaling they’re annoyed, or that they don’t want to continue a relationship. Turkle says sometimes taking a long time to write back is a way of establishing dominance in a relationship, by making yourself look simply too busy and important to reply.

But oftentimes, people are just trying to manage the quantity of messages and notifications they receive. In 2015, the average American was receiving 88 business emails per day, according to the market research firm Radicati, but only sending 34 business emails per day. Because—who has the time to respond to 88 emails a day? Maybe someone isn’t responding because they’ve realized the interruption of a notification negatively affects their productivity, so they’re ignoring their phone to get some work done.

I find myself ignoring or procrastinating even important messages, and ones I want and intend to respond to. I had to create a bright red “Needs Response” email label to battle my own “delayed response” problem. I regularly read texts, think “I’ll respond to that later,” and then completely forget about it.  Working memory—the brain’s mental to-do list—can only hold so much at once, and when notifications get crammed in with shopping lists and work tasks, sometimes it springs a leak.

“A lot of the time what’s happening is people have five conversations going on, and they just can’t really be intimate and present with five different people,” Turkle says. “So they kind of do a triage, they prioritize, they forget. Your brain is not a perfect instrument for processing texts. But it will be interpreted as though it really was a conversation, and so you can hurt people.”

* * *

Still, even though instant written communication can be overwhelming and anxiety-inducing, people prefer it. Americans spend more time texting than talking on the phone, and texting is the most frequent form of communication for Americans under 50.

While texting is popular worldwide, Baron, of American University, thinks that a strong preference for communication that can be easily ignored is a particularly American attitude. “Americans have far fewer manners in general in their communication than a lot of other societies,” she says. “The second issue is a real feeling of empowerment. I think we have become a version of power freaks, not just control freaks.”

In a survey Baron conducted in 2007 and 2008 of students in several countries including the United States, the things that people said they liked most about their phones were often related to control. One American woman said her favorite thing was “Constant communication when I want it (can also shut it off when I don’t).”

“What I have seen in this country, and I don’t know if it’s a national trait, is people wait until they think they have the perfect thing to say, as though relationships can be managed by writing the perfect thing,” Turkle says. “And I think that is something we pay a very high cost for.”

In Baron’s survey, people also mentioned feeling controlled by their phones—bemoaning how dependent they were on the devices, and how the constant connectivity made them feel obligated to respond.

But texts and emails don’t create as big of an obligation as phone calls, or a face-to-face conversation. When young adults are interviewed about why they don’t like making phone calls, they cite a distaste for how “invasive” they are, and a reluctance to place that burden on someone else. Written instant messages create a smokescreen of plausible deniability if someone doesn’t feel like responding, which can be relieving for the hider, and frustrating for the seeker.

More than anything, what the age of instant communication has enabled is the ability to deal with conversation on our own terms. We can respond right away, we can put it off for two days, or never get around to it at all. We can manage several different conversations at once. “Sorry, I was out with friends,” we might say, as an excuse for not texting someone back. Or, “Sorry, I just need to text this person back real quick,” we might say while out with friends.

As these things become normal, it creates an environment where we are only comfortable asking for slivers of people’s distracted time, lest they ever obligate us to give them our full and undivided attention.

[euphoricsunflowers]

coup d’état — son hyunwoo/shownu

a/n: i might make this a series! depending on if you guys are vibing with it so p l e a s e give me feedback if you’d like more royalty!reader fics.

word count: 1.9k

content: power bottom!fem!reader, service top!shownu, slight degradation, i guess slight edging as well, ✨Neck Kisses✨, we really go from soft to mean like so quickly it’s wack.

summary: him lying atop your silk blankets and propped up on a few pillows with cum covering his tanned stomach is an absolutely euphoric sight. you can leave taking control of the kingdom for the morning if it means gazing at him like this a bit longer.

(GIF by @focusongyeom)

“princess?” he murmurs softly, pulling your attention away from your book. not that you were too focused on it, because that book was boring as hell, but your father demanded you take up reading as a hobby. and nobody could disobey the king, not even his precious daughter.

“yes, hyunwoo? what is it?” you ask. he eyes your slightly messy bedroom, making a mental note to clean it up at some point before he’s reprimanded for not doing his job right. as your personal servant, he really had to do everything for you. not that he minded, because the king paid him quite better than before when he was just another kitchen servant.

“princess, i do apologize for interrupting your personal time, please forgive me,” he bows. you don’t seem to even want his apology, but he gives it anyway, “i am here because your brother’s coronation is tomorrow evening, and your father conveyed me… you plan to not attend?”

“ah, so that is what this is about,” you mumble disappointedly. hyunwoo didn’t want to make you upset, “please, hyunwoo, if you are going to attempt to persuade me, do not waste your time. i will not be attending, and that is final.”

“i… that is what i thought you’d say. i am not going to attempt to convince you to do anything,” he says, fidgeting from the nerves. you being at all upset at him is the last thing he wants, “i am only… curious. what is the reason for your decision?”

“my brother gets everything, hyunwoo,” you mutter sharply, “he becomes king tomorrow night. why? how is he more fit to rule than i am? because he is a boy? i do not wish to sit through a ceremony congratulating my brother on being born with a penis.”

your crude language makes him chuckle. you must be spending more time with the commoners to be left to humor like that, but he doesn’t mind. not that it’d matter if he did, but he didn’t, “do you wish to rule instead? to be queen?”

“i… i do not know. i do know that my brother is not qualified for the job and, though i suppose he’d be an improvement over my father, he’s only going to drag this kingdom down further,” you say before making a face that hyunwoo can’t use to discern what you’re thinking, “my father is not exactly… popular… among commoners such as yourself, correct? do you wish to see my brother take his place?”

“unpopular is an understatement, my princess,” hyunwoo knows that you’re incredibly under informed about what your father has done to the people of the kingdom on purpose, because you were always outspoken and sharp with your words. you would have caused an uprising with the people if you spoke up, being as popular (compared to the rest of your family) as you are. you were so unaware of how easily you could sway public opinion and possible start a coup and take over yourself, “i believe you’d make a fine queen.”

“i will, but just… not one that can do anything,” you mumble, “do you know of prince minhyuk lee?” hyunwoo shakes his head, “he is the second oldest prince of the kingdom north of us. i am supposed to be married to him as soon as possible, and should his older brother die, we would be the next king and queen of his kingdom.”

“is… that the life you want?” hyunwoo asks, motioning for you to come closer, and you do. you stand right in front of him, and breathe out a heavy, heavy sigh.

“no,” leaves your lips, and once it does, the rest just comes rushing out, “prince lee is… fine. i have nothing against him, but i just… this is my kingdom. i will not just be used as an appeasement for the prince and his kingdom.”

“forgive me if this is too informal, but you seem awfully determined,” he laughs awkwardly, trying to calm the tension in the silence, but it doesn’t work, “princess? are you alright?”

you finally meet his eyes, before asking, “will you… it came down to it, would you be on my side or my father’s?”

“your’s. that does not really say much, considering my… extreme negative feelings towards the king...,” he whispers, worried someone else might overhear, but it’s just you two. it’s as if you’re the only two in the whole world right now, “but i live to serve you, my princess. that means trusting you and standing by you through any choices you make. and if… overthrowing the king is really what you want… then make it happen. i will always follow you.”

“could i— could we really do that? just the two of us?” you seem so hopeful, your eyes twinkling with that kind of determination that he can’t help but try to harness.

“my princess, there is a lot you don’t know, especially about your kingdom… and about your father,” hyunwoo mumbles, “and i do believe that the people would support you.”

“would this mean… killing my family?”

“i suppose it is not completely necessary, but that is a feasible outcome,” hyunwoo doesn’t attempt to hide the fact he could not care less for your family, especially your father. sure, your brother was going to officially be king tomorrow, but hyunwoo had no reason to believe that he’d do anything to fix this kingdom, “i will be beside you the whole time, princess. my loyalty is unwavering, and i will do anything you ask of me. if you are serious about seizing the throne, then all i ask is to not abandon the people who help you once you finally get the power.”

“i promise, hyunwoo, i will not be like my father. i want my people to be treated well. they don’t deserve the hell he’s put them through,” you reach out to hold his hand, and he hesitates. he’s always been able to hide his feelings, disguising them as devotion and loyalty to the royal family’s princess, but that’s all a lie. he’s love you for years. you were the only one who was kind to him when he first met you.

he was maybe 16 when he started working in the royal palace, doing some janitorial work probably. he distinctly remembers when you had met him. he was a bit less restrained and polished back then, but you didn’t seem annoyed. you just smiled to at him, offering him your hand to help him up when he fell. he’s known you for so many years, there’s not a single person on earth who wouldn’t fall for you given the circumstances, it just happened to be him.

“then you have me. as long as you live, you will have me,” he whispers, his hand taking hold of yours. you squeeze his hand a bit, closing your eyes.

“could… could you do something for me?” you ask, and he nods instantly, without a second thought.

“of course, my princess, what is it?”

“i know we kind of just… discussed overthrowning the monarchy and all. i know that is so much more important than what i am about to ask of you, but for one night, would you pretend i wasn’t a princess?” you ask, and he recoils slightly.

“what… do you mean?”

“instead of being the princess, i would like, instead, to be something else tonight,” you whisper to him, but he still doesn’t get it, so you resort to your last ditch effort. you lean in to kiss him on the lips. it’s soft, but faint, and god his lips feel perfect, “treat me like your lover tonight. leave the coup d’etat for the morning.”

“princess—?”

“call me y/n. i do not want to hear you call me princess until dawn, my pretty boy, understand?” you ask, and he nods. he doesn’t really understand. he doesn’t understand a lot about what’s going on right now, or why you’re all up on him, or why he assumed you wouldn’t be this… dominant. your lips on his neck was the last thing he expected to come of this moment, and he moans embarrassingly high when you bite down just a bit, “oh fuck, that was hot. i didn’t take you for a sub, hyunwoo.”

“i-i’ll be whatever you want, prin— y/n,” he stutters cutely and blushing endearingly.

“but, you know, the fact that you are not inside me right now is honestly a national tragedy,” and that’s all the motivation he needs. he’s on top of you in seconds, this time the one kissing your neck, but he doesn’t seem to have the same effect on you that you have on him. he felt weak in your hold, melting from just the pure intensity in your kisses, but you only smirk— he can barely see it but he knows you are— and it irks him, “c’mon, hyunwoo, i’m getting bored, hurry up.”

your nightgown is easily ripped off, mostly because he’s incredibly muscular under that suit he has to wear. he undresses rather quickly as well, before getting back on top of you.

“you are breathtaking, my lover,” he smiles cheekily, pressing a kiss to your stomach before bringing two fingers to his lips, coating them in saliva, and getting to work. he presses them into you gently, and the sounds you make have him hypnotized.

“did i not just tell you to hurry up? or are you that dumb?” you groan, but the insult only makes him whine softly, and his whole body reacts, “huh, do you like being degraded? my stupid little servant.”

and, to be honest, hyunwoo was not little or small in the slightest. he was above average height and he was somewhat muscular, if a bit thin, but something about the way you say it makes him crumble to pieces, “your stupid little servant,” he echos.

“i doubt there is a thought in that head of yours,” you smile patronizingly, “you just do as you’re told, hm?”

“y-yes! i’ll do whatever you want me to!”

“then fuck me, hyunwoo, i do not have all night,” you mutter, wrapping a hand around his neck. he pulls his fingers out, spits as much as he can into the palm of his hand, and coats himself in it so there’s at least some lubricant, and then he just goes for it, mindlessly thrusting in and out slowly, before going faster, “c’mon, be useful and make me cum.” you whisper, a bit harshly, but it only makes him go harder, bringing his hand down to massage your clit as well.

once you do cum, he’s already so close. he wants to ask, because he feels like he should, but god he really can’t right now. as you come down, he can feel it almost breaking, but you stop him, and he cries out pathetically. he sounds like an animal that’s been wounded.

“does my dumb little baby want to cum?” you ask, but you know the answer. of course he nods desperately, and you smirk, “then pull out and jerk yourself off. i want to see the cum on your stomach, maybe i’ll even take a picture.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiest @rosethefae @staranonthoughts @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting

[my-writings-and-musings]

Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️

You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!

Rung

·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.

·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?

·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.

·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.

·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...

Megatron

·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.

·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.

·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.

·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.

·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.

Rodimus

·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.

·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.

·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.

·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.

·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.

Minimus

·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.

·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.

·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.

·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.

·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.

Swerve

·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.

·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.

·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.

·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.

·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.

[supersilversleuth]

I Know You Won’t Believe Me (But Sometimes I wish You Would) by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types  

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Roman Sionis, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Whumptober 2021, Angst, Dick Grayson DID NOT fake his Death, I know I’m not really touching on it in this fic, but it’s important I say that, Post-Spyral, Miscommunication, Betrayal, I mean, Perceived Betrayal, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Protective Dick Grayson, injuries

Summary:

“Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

“Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

Dick resisted the urge to laugh, or explain himself. There wasn’t much to explain anyway, not without revealing secrets that he would rather die protecting. Instead, he forced his expression into something more like shock, and resignation, deciding to play this role to the end. He could feel the instincts of manipulation and deception settling back over him like a very familiar blanket. Playing spy for a while had given him the opportunity to hone those skills. If there was any beneficial thing that could be taken away from that whole experience, it was what good he could now do with the abilities he’d enhanced during that time.

OR Dick is forced to pretend to betray Jason in order to protect the Red Hood’s identity

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

Part 5 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 3,462 Chapters: 1/1 

Dick was tracking down a lead in the northern part of Blüdhaven, snooping around in various warehouses. It was the part of Blüdhaven that was closest to Gotham, so really Dick should’ve known better than to think his day would be uneventful.

 As it was, he was surprised by the sight of the Red Hood tying up the exact criminals Dick was looking for.

 Jason had tensed, glancing up, hand going for his gun—when Dick pushed the creaky warehouse door open to take a peek inside—and then, when Jason realized who it was, the hand went away from the gun, and the eyes away from Dick, but the tension remained. Jason continued about, tying the criminals up, studiously ignoring Dick’s presence as he did so.

 “Hood—” Dick started.

 “I’m just finishing up, Officer ,” he said mockingly, “They’re all yours when I’m done.”

 “I—They’re Black Mask’s people, do you have any intel about what they’re doing in my city?” “Not much,” replied Jason, tone clipped. “You?” “I have a little, maybe we could arrange a time to go over it? This case is clearly turning out to be a problem for both of us—”

 “Nope, that’s not how it works,” Jason cut him off, “You haven’t been forgiven for your last f*** up yet. Maybe we can trade information later, if I ever decide to trust you again.” Dick winced, stepping back. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair then, Hood. I’ll have some people come this way to put these criminals back where they belong.” “Where they belong is a big, ugly a** community grave,” Dick heard Jason mutter behind him just as he walked out the door.

-- A few days after the Hood incident, Dick was heading home after a long day of writing reports and studying casefiles. Being a detective was certainly not all excitement 24/7. Most of the time he was sitting around, wishing for more time in the field.

That particular day, he was distracted, thinking about a very complicated case that had been stumping him for longer than he’d like. He should’ve known better than to take that route home, though it probably wouldn’t have mattered—whoever wanted him was professional enough to have all the streets around the precinct covered.

 Ah, chloroform, he didn’t miss it. It’d been a while since he’d last had it pressed against his face. He supposed he was due for a run in with the stuff. The chloroform appeared at the same time as the wrenching of his arms behind his back, and the restraining of his legs. Dick tried not to fight  too  hard, he was still Detective Grayson, a civilian by vigilante standards, afterall. He had to keep up appearances. For that reason, he also pretended to fall unconscious long before he actually did. He’d built up an immunity to the drug of course, but that could only work with him as Nightwing.

 When Dick woke up, he found himself face to face with Black Mask. The man sat behind a desk, with Dick, sitting, bound to a chair in front of him. With a start, Dick realized that Roman must’ve been watching him while he was unconscious. Dick suppressed a shudder. 

 “Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

 “Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

Dick resisted the urge to laugh, or explain himself. There wasn’t much to explain anyway, not without revealing secrets that he would rather die protecting. Instead, he forced his expression into something more like shock, and resignation, deciding to play this role to the end. He could feel the instincts of manipulation and deception settling back over him like a very familiar blanket. Playing spy for a while had given him the opportunity to hone those skills. If there was any beneficial thing that could be taken away from that whole experience, it was what good he could now do with the abilities he’d enhanced during that time.

 “I don’t know who the f*** that is,” Dick said, thinking about the actions of several of his coworkers for reference on how to act like a dirty cop.

 “Don’t lie to me,” snarled Roman. “My people know you spoke with him at the last operation of mine that he busted.”

 Ah, so that’s how he knew. One of the thugs must not have been fully unconscious during Dick’s conversation with Jason the other day.

 “Look man, I’m just his source guy sometimes, and he doesn’t even like me very much lately. So I don’t know what to tell you. Just let me go, and we can call it a day.” Dick made himself fidget, as if he was nervous about the threatening crime boss sitting across from him.

 “So what? You don’t have anything for me? Maybe I should just torture you until you die, how about that?”

 “N—No,” Dick made himself stutter, “I—I can still help you...for a price.”

 “Even now, you argue for your checkbook,” Roman chuckled, “The world goes ‘round, and dirty cops never change.”

 “What can I say,” Dick smirked, “The Hood didn’t pay me enough. I’m sure  you’ll be different…”

 Roman smiled at him, a dangerous smile that said he couldn’t wait to use him up and leave his body in a ditch.

 Dick smiled back.

--

Jason got an alert that the alarms at one of his safehouses had been tripped. It wasn’t one of his favorite safehouses or anything—in fact, it was due for a restock, but he knew it would be better to check it out as soon as he could anyway.

 He swung through the air, making his way through Crime Alley to where he knew the safehouse to be. Any intruders in his territory would be dealt with, crappy safehouse or not. 

 He found that much of his security system had been quietly disabled…except for a single, simple sensor. Whoever did this wanted him to come here.

 The door to his safehouse was ajar, and Jason carefully pushed it open, peering through the crack.

 His lights were on, and there were the sounds of ransacking and breaking glass.

 Jason grabbed the guns from his hips, and slammed open the door.

 There stood Dick, out of uniform, surrounded by several of Black Mask‘s people. 

 Jason snarled at the sight, thoughts of the man’s betrayal swirling through his mind. 

 Dick’s eyes widened, shooting a pleading look at him as if trying to convey something. Jason ignored it in his anger.

 “Let’s go! He’s here!” yelled Dick.

 “Traitor.” He growled darkly.

 Something flickered in the traitor’s expression, before smoothing out as if it had never been there.

 Jason didn’t think. He just lifted his guns, and fired.

 Unfortunately, they were rubber bullets, and he’s pretty sure he only managed to clip the lying b****** in the leg.

 He did manage to take down at least three of the others before the rest escaped quickly through the window.

--

“So, I guess Hoodie really isn’t on your side after all,” said Roman, pacing.

“I—I don’t understand what happened,” Dick sputtered, feigning fear, “I disabled all of his security, he wasn’t supposed to show.”

 “That’s because I had one of my people purposely sabotage you. I needed to make sure you weren’t still on his side. This,” he said, putting his hand on Dick’s leg where the bullet hit him, “is the proof I was looking for.” He pressed down, Dick gasped as if in pain. It really didn’t feel nice.

 “W—What?” He said in indignation, “Of course I’m on your side, that guy hates me.”

 “So I’m told.” Roman said, uncaring. He dug his fingers in.

 “Stop!” Dick strained against the ropes binding his hands behind the chair.

 The man let up, briefly, “You got the package I sent you to get?” 

 He was referring to the fake intel Dick had promised was stashed in Hood’s safehouse, intel that he had planted while no one was looking. The moment Roman plugged that thing in, Oracle would have complete access to all of the crime boss’s servers. “Yes, of course! Don’t forget to plug it into a high powered computer, I’m sure it’ll require a lot of decryption…”

 Roman waved his hand, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, my people have it covered.”

 “I’d like my payment now,” Dick said, glaring at him.

 The man grinned malevolently, “You’ll get your payment, when I let you go and the Hood goes after you. The people he captured have  quite  the story to tell.” 

 Dick slid a look of fear onto his face.

--

Jason didn't even give him the chance to explain.

Not that Dick was surprised about this, of course, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

Roman had released him onto Gotham's streets, and sent several of his people to tail him.  Dick of course, was not supposed to know about that particular detail, but it's not like the low-level thugs had any actual expertise when it came to anything, least of all properly tailing a person.

Ah, so this was one more test, to confirm that he was truly against the Hood, before Roman dared plug in the USB. So it was best that Jason's first reaction upon seeing him was to lash out anyway, and Dick didn't even get a moment to get a word in before Hood was slamming him into the ground.

Well, it seemed these days the only reliable fact was that his family no longer trusted him. It was a good thing he needed Jason to beat him up for the operation, then. Internally, Dick sighed, he wished it didn't have to be like this. He hated lying, detested spying, but he'd learned long ago that sometimes there's no time for debate, and often the situation called for the best solution, not necessarily a good one.

Jason always acted on his emotions, it was something about him that never changed. It was reliable qualities like that, that Dick had been trained to notice, to exploit when needed. Dick did what he had to do, Jason did what he wanted to do. Many times, Dick had had to shoulder the burden of doing what was needed, even if it hurt those around him. He would gladly carry these responsibilities for the rest of his life, if only his siblings didn't have to, if only his family  lived.

And so, Officer Grayson fought with the Red Hood in a back alleyway as the man spewed curses about him and how he couldn't trust someone who'd betray him just to meet their own ends and not even think to tell him about the undercover op—

Dick, of course, was still being watched. So he fought like a random inexperienced police officer, not like Nightwing, professional vigilante. 

Jason didn't seem to notice. 

"Is this the new you then? Huh? You stab us in the back at every chance you get, all for a supposed “mission”? Is this Dick the spy then? Is that who you are now?"

Dick dodged a fist, got kicked in the knee.  It’s probably just the pit rage,  he reminded himself,  another thing I can count on.

"You know, I didn't think you of all people would pull something like this the first time, I don't know why I didn't see it with this one, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

Jason punched him in the stomach, causing him to sink further to the ground.

"I don't even know if I'd grieve again, if I found out you were dead. How would I know it wasn't just another lie that you failed to mention to me?"

Dick was just glad his tails were too far away to hear what Jason was saying.

"Do you have any idea what Black Mask is capable of? Have you  forgotten  who the f*** he  is  ? You can't just go undercover to work with him against  me, without telling me!"

His little brother sounded so upset, Dick only wished he had time to explain.

"Whatever happened to communication? Is that a foreign concept to you  spies? And here I thought we were actually family."

Jason headbutted him right in the face, breaking what Dick was pretty sure was his nose. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood on his face, flowing over his lips, past his chin to drip to the ground. Dick's vision blurred, and he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself, he had to play it up, afterall. Even though the wounds inflicted were mostly just surface ones. They had an audience, and Dick could not fail to perform.

Above him, Jason scoffed, as if he could see through Dick's pretending. Still though, DIck could see his hands shaking, could see as the pent up energy within his little brother's body drained, tension leaving his shoulders. In a moment, Jason was gone, and Dick closed his eyes, giving into the exhaustion of having had to pretend to be someone he wasn't under very stressful circumstances for the past few days. It was alright, nothing...Dick...couldn't handle...

--

Jason felt drained. He hadn't felt that angry since well...the last time Goldie had pulled something like this.

The feeling of Dick’s face against his fist was quite familiar by this point. Each time he’d done it blurred together, echoing in his mind as green tinted his vision.

Jason made it back to one of his safehouses, somehow. He wasn’t sure when he got there, or how, but when he finally came back to himself, it was to the sight of a familiar kitchenette.

He felt too restless to sleep, but too exhausted to do anything productive at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to go out as Red Hood. In this state, he was a danger to anyone around him.

Jason’s mind raced, even as his body collapsed on the couch. He turned the tv on, letting himself get lost in some random sitcom.

He needed to calm down, probably do something like think things through. Though Jason knew that he was most likely going to just go about his day tomorrow, as if today hadn’t happened.

Always running away, still that same self-preserving street kid who only knew how to survive. Well, it’d worked for him so far, minus the dying part of course.

Hours later, technically into the next morning, Jason’s comm beeped. What could Barbie possibly want at this time of morning? Not even villains were awake at 6:00am, usually this hour was sacred.

“Hood?”

Well, apparently not anymore.

Sighing, Jason brought his finger to his ear, “Yeah? How’d you know I was awake?”

“Unimportant,” she said, all business, “I need you to check on Nightwing for me.”

Jason’s mind blanked, and then he scoffed, “You kidding me?” His voice was shaky. “What the f*** did he do this time?”

Oracle had no time for overly dramatic interbat-relations.

“A few hours ago, Black Mask’s servers went online, Dick’s code caught my attention. I was able to get every little bit of data ever entered into one of Mask’s computers. It was more than we’ve been able to get from him in years. Dick’s work really was genius. I tried to get in contact with him, but his trackers aren’t working, his phone’s out of the picture, and I can’t find him on any camera. I’m worried he went undercover without a backup plan for when Mask figured it out.”

Jason attempted unsuccessfully to tamp down his feelings of guilt and concern.

“Alright O, I’m on it.” He croaked, already heading out the door.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins, spurring him on. 

His earlier hate had fled, leaving behind nothing but cold determination. He was angry at his brother, sure, but he didn’t want the guy to  die… right?

And if what Oracle said was true, then it just might have been worth it for Dick to do what he did, just maybe.

Jason headed to where he’d last seen Dick. 

He found him about a block away from where they’d fought, being tortured in a rundown warehouse.

If it weren’t for the screams, Jason probably would have passed it and not even known.

Black Mask stood over Dick, who was bound to a table. Goldie was missing his shirt, and his torso was littered with burns and bruises. His feet were bare too, Roman was in the process of whipping them.

For the second time in twenty four hours, Jason felt the anger rise and the pit take over. 

The emotion was stronger this time, more powerful, Jason thought distantly. 

There were about thirty thugs surrounding Roman, guarding the man’s sadistic torture session.

Jason drew his guns, and tried not to think about the last time he’d used them to pistol whip Dickie across the face.

The first five thugs went down quickly, the next ten following right behind them. Jason reloaded. Some part of his subconscious aimed for kneecaps and non-lethal areas. The pit aimed for whatever was convenient. Nevertheless, if Jason had been paying attention, he’d have noticed that not one of his bullets missed a target.

By the time he’d made his way through all thirty of them, he had two loaded guns left, though they weren’t the same ones he’d started out with.

Roman had fled sometime during the action, like the coward he was. Jason was halfway out the door to find him when he heard a sound from behind him.

It was Dick.

Jason startled, hurrying towards his brother's side. The anger once again drained from his body.

Dick’s eyes were hazy and unfocused, they looked at him without seeing. But as Jason neared, something foreign came into them: fear.

Jason dropped his guns on the floor, trying not to think about how he’d never seen Dick look at him like that.

He bent to untie his brother from the table, and Dick flinched away from him, unintelligible noises stumbling out of his throat.

“Shh, Dickie, it’s alright.” Jason said frantically, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

He finished removing the last of the restraints just as Dick passed out from what was likely incredible pain.

--

Jason efficiently cleaned and bandaged his brother’s wounds, feeling numb. Dick’s body was covered in scars, the recent--but not too recent ones were what caught his attention. Jason didn’t want to think about when Dick must’ve gotten them.

Instead, Jason thought about something that had been bothering him before, little details here and there that he had missed. Namely: Dick hadn't been wearing his Nightwing suit during all of their interactions in the past few days. In fact, he'd been dressed quite like a detective.

 It dawned on Jason in a moment, and he felt horrified. Dick had been a detective that day in the warehouse with Black Mask's people. Back when this all started. 

 Jason's mind was racing when Dick groaned, eyes cracking open, "Wha—Jay?"

 "Yeah, it's me Dickie. I'm here."

 "What—What happened?"

 Jason sighed, "What do you remember?"

 Dick's brows furrowed in thought, "I...I had to go undercover..."

 "Why didn't you tell me?" Jason asked.

 Recognition flashed in his brother's eyes, He seemed to be getting his energy back.

 "There was no time, Roman kidnapped me, I had to play along."

 "But—there had to have been some time you could have explained the situation to me…"

 "Would you believe me if I had?" Dick's gaze was piercing.

 “I—yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Jason paused, “Were you going to tell me that you went undercover to save my a**? Or were you just going to keep letting me hate you?”

 Dick was silent.

 Jason continued, “I mean, sure. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed you. But maybe I would have. You weren’t even going to give me the choice.” Something occurred to him then. “We didn’t give you the chance to explain about Spyral…was that situation similar to this?” 

 Dick sighed, “I’m not up for having this conversation right now. Maybe later, after I wake up.”

 He burrowed further into the couch, closing his eyes.

 “One more thing,” Jason said, unwilling to let it end just like that. “Those scars…”

 Dick’s smile was bitter and darkly amused, “You didn’t think playing spy was all fun and games, did you? Everyone was out to get me. See here?” Dick half-heartedly lifted up his arm, “A cannibal took a chunk out of it. Congratulations, you’re the first to notice.”

 “I’m sorry,” Jason murmured to him, long after he’d fallen asleep. 

 The two words were long overdue.

[silvysartfulness]

I got tagged by @ameliarating and @veliseraptor to do this writer meme thing!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Six. I only started posting fic on AO3 last year. Before that, many long years ago, I used my own websites and LiveJounal.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

177481. The absolute majority of which is of course Heaven Has A Road.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, only The Untamed.

But before that, I've written for Disney Afternoon's Aladdin, Slayers, Kingdom Hearts, Assassin's Creed, and one-shot fics for my own original verses as well as my friends'.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It at 1194, unsurprisingly. It's my magnum opus on AO3.

Blanket Statement at 302. The first fic I wrote for the Untamed, and the first thing I posted on AO3 (Thank you, Lise, for holding my hand and walking me through it!)

And To Many More at 169

High Noon In Deserted City at 96, which is sort of funny, since it's just a picture and about 1000 words. But the premise is fun! Still hoping for some hungry writer to adopt it and write something for it. :)

Self-Inflicted at 75.

Which checks out, I guess – the longest fic with the most readers comes first, then the fluff, then the funny and finally the angsty and fucked up. XD

I still suspect The Plotbunny of Doom / The Renegades for Kingdom Hearts would score as my all time highest, though, if LJ likes and comments translated to the AO3 format. That fic took me and two friends three whole years to write together, was 104 chapters long and over 300k.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try! Comments mean everything to me, and I want to reply to them all! But when I'm low on spoons (which is unfortunately often) I fall hopelessly behind, and then the catching up becomes an impossible-looking chore in and of itself.

I should really set some time aside every day to catch up on the last few chapters' worth of comments... I do love the interaction and discussion a good comment can spawn!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm... I write a ton of angst, but only a few actually have sad endings. I'd say Eaten counts, as does Self-Inflicted, I guess. TPBoD had a very open ending that was still definitely on the somewhat hopeless side.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Mm, it's not usually my favourite genre (though I mean, the whole Kingdom Hearts verse is a crossover in and of itself) but it depends a lot on the source material. I guess TPBoD might soft-count, since we tossed in a bunch of non-canon references with all the world-jumping.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not as such? Oh yeah, I do recall getting a very upset comment on a non-con fic I wrote back in the KH days, by someone who couldn't conceive how you could claim to love a character and then write such horrible things happening to them. But you get those occasionally. Look, crushing my favourite characters is therapy. Doesn't mean I don't love them.

The Russian fandom are loudly aggressive in their comments on some chapters of Heaven Has A Road, but that's more focused on the characters, not me personally.

On the whole, I've been pretty spared. But then, there's little point in sending hate; I just block.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Oh, absolutely. Haven't really gotten to that point in the posted chapters of Heaven Has A Road yet, but we're about to unleash it aplenty in the upcoming ones.

What kind? Most kinds, I guess? Soft and fluffy, aggressive and snarly, consensual, dubcon, non-con. Mostly mlm but I've written het, too. Can't remember if I've written wlw, but I've certainly headcanoned/drawn it. A bit of kink is nice.

I prefer focusing on the chemistry and sensations when I write porn, rather than detailed physical smacking and squelching and body fluids, but that's just my personal preference and writing style.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? Not that I can remember? I have my art stolen regularly, and I've had my online identity stolen, but I don't think anyone's stolen anything I've written...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Heaven Has A Road is being translated into Russian, and I'm insanely honoured and flattered!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes – TPBoD aka The Plot Bunny of Doom, aka The Renegades, for Kingdom Hearts. I wrote it over ten years ago together with a friend and my now wife. It was a monster of a fic, I think about 320k, and the fact that we were three people helping and pushing and encouraging each other really helped keep it going!

I don't know if I would have the focus for something like it now, but it was an amazing experience I'll always treasure.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh man, that changes with each hyperfixation... I may have to say Marluxia/Vexen for Kingdom Hearts, simply because it's a ship that's been around in my life for so long. I still occasionally go back to read favourite bits of the fics I wrote for them, including TPBoD.

Currently it's SongXueXiao from The Untamed, of course, and a very strong contender overall! I've dabbled a bit in poly ships before, but this is the first time I have one as my main, and I'm love them.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Uh. I don’t really have any? Because of my burnout-brain, I can only really focus on one major project at a time, and that's currently heaven has A Road. And I'm really, really hoping I will be able to finish it!

It's all plotted out, I just need to write the stupid thing. Working on it.

What are your writing strengths?

Hm, I'd say that I've developed a voice/prose over the years that I'm actually quite happy with! And I'm good at conveying/invoking emotion, if going solely by how many people comment that I've made them cry. :D

I enjoy writing dialogue, and I love working with layers of symbolism.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The actual writing process. 🙄 I'm extremely uneven and unstructured in getting the actual words down. Also convoluted and inflated text at times - sometimes I write a lot of words without actually saying anything. And English is my second language, so just nailing the correct phrasing and grammar can be a headache at times.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it impacts the plot – like the POV character not understanding it, then maybe. And using terms that can't be translated, absolutely! Other than that, there's little point in making a text harder for the reader to grasp by tossing in whole sections in another language for clout. Is my personal view, at least, of course other writers may disagree.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first online fandom that I wrote fic for was Disney Afternoon's Aladdin show. Before that, I wrote original fic. And before that, before the internet was A Thing, I'd write and draw for stories that captivated me, just for my own entertainment. If you count that, I'd probably say Phantom of the Opera was my first – I had a whole ”everyone is a horse because that's what I know how to draw” AU when I was about 10 or so, that I'd draw lots of pictures for. When I was even younger, I used to make up stories for my younger brothers, based on movies and series we had watched together. I've always been a storyteller, one way or another, if only in my own head. I wouldn't know how not to.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I would have to say Heaven Has A Road, even though it's still unfinished. It's the first work of that sheer scope I have ever attempted by myself, and I'm honestly insanely proud of myself for what I have accomplished already!

Second would be TPBoD – The Renegades. Even though that was a shared effort, it's a very long fic that we managed to bring all the way to its intended conclusion, and I'm very proud of that, too!

Plus there are bits of both these fics I really like, and that I will go back and read for my own enjoyment occasionally.

tagging: @orodrethsgeek, @ebonykain, @fromaliminalspace, @chigrima, @soawen

[finallyaniguana]

[27] get to the point and fast (but not fast enough)

taglist is closed, if your username has changed since i added you to it, be sure to let me know please!

masterpost        ao3

[26]         [28]

After that whole show in the LG, Marinette was tense and on edge. She didn't appreciate the flippant way they spoke about him. Maybe they were right, but she felt a surge of possessive protectiveness she couldn't cut down. So, stiff she sat all through free time and the subsequent dinner, choosing to skip the spar between her and Adrien after. Her platonic soulmate simply brushed it off, attributing the snub to the bad mood she had picked up during the club meeting.

She ignored most of her friend's attempts to start a conversation, giving only short, stilted answers. Her friends, bless them, weren't getting mad at her for this, picking up on the fact that something is bothering her. Adrien elected to bring it up later,when she was ready to talk.

"Hey, Mari?"

She turned away from her door, hand pulling away from the handle.

"I was wondering if you'd still be okay with sharing a room with me? I don't think I can stand this for two more weeks," Alya grimaced.

A tiny bit of tension melted off Marinette's shoulders. Managing a smile, she nodded.

"Of course, Alya. We'll talk to Mlle. Bustier tomorrow and get all your stuff moved after school. How about that?"

Alya perked up.

"Hell yeah, girl! I can't wait to be your roommate!"

Alya turned away to enter the room she unfortunately shared with Lila, still smiling.

'Another thing I'll have to tell Robin about.'

The first thing she did when she got into her room and shut the door was to throw open one curtain. Just the one over the window where Robin would enter. She then cracked the window slightly, so he could easily open it from the outside. Once she was satisfied with her work there, she dug around in her carry on bag for the cookie stash she had brought just for Tikki. She  passed one to the Kwamii, who happily accepted it.

"You can't let it get to you," she whispered.

Tikki looked over to her chosen, who now stood in front of the bathroom mirror but stared down into the sink. She flew over to her, resting lightly on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

Marinette heaved a great sigh before walking back out into the bedroom.

"It's just... the things those students were saying about him, you know? They all made him out to be this... I don't know, what's the best word? Mean? Mean person, and I just... i don't know, Tikki."

Tikki nodded sagely, surely about to pull on some timeless and encouraging knowledge from like.. a million years ago.

"You'll just have to form your own opinion about him and disregard everyone else. He can't be all bad!"

'Okay, so not nearly as.. encouraging as I hoped for,' she pouted.

Another benefit to having the window slightly open (other than the obvious soulmate entry point), was the fact that Tikki would know exactly when to hide. It was the telltale sound of metal cord in track, the same sound her yo-yo makes when she's zipping between buildings. Or any of the bats' grappling hooks to be perfectly technical. The next sound being a window sliding open. Quickly, she schooled her expression and went to face her soulmate.

As soon as his boots hit the floor, she started to relax a little. Neither of them could quite put their finger on it, but they felt... comfortable.

"Robin," she smiled.

He inclined his head in response, which Marinette could only assume was his version of a warm greeting. He was certainly one of the most difficult people to read she'd ever met. Over time, she'd have to really work at learning and understanding his body language if she really wanted to know her soulmate.

Robin got to work at pulling the arm chair over to where it was only just in view of Red Robin, today's chaperone. It was all he could do to avoid his brother's interested gaze. Once settled, Marinette cross legged on the end of her bed, Robin opened his mouth to say something. Whatever it is seemed to have dissipated into the air because he immediately closed his mouth again.

"What can you tell me about yourself?" Marinette threw out there.

He pondered for a moment what was safe to say.

"I'm a vegetarian."

That seemed innocent enough. Could be anybody under that mask. Yes, very convincing.

"Oh, fun! Have you always been or is it recent...?" she trailed off a little.

"A few years now."

Due to the mask, Marinette unfortunately was unable to see Damian wrestling with whether or not he can say what he's about to say. Ultimately, he bites the bullet and just says it.

"Your parents are bakers?"

Nevermind the fact that he probably shouldn't know that yet. Marinette knew that the Bats were supposed to be detectives. She was far from stupid. It was completely expected that he would do as much research as he could on her going into it, especially given that some random stranger had now seen the inside of the Batcave and had no idea what Nightwing had said while he was away. So, him knowing things? Not worrying.

"Yes! They are."

It was the things he didn't know about that Marinette was worried about.

"What would you say makes your bakery unique among all the others in Paris?"

Alright, cool and collected. Questions clearly planned in advance. She could work with that.

"Hmm, I would probably say our mixture of both my mother and father's technique. For example, rice flour in the bread, instead of just regular flour like my dad had always been taught, gives it a much lighter texture," she answered.

He nodded thoughtfully, but his visible face revealed nothing. Meanwhile, Marinette was starting to get antsy that he hadn't said anything about Adrien. He has to know. His friend had to have told him. Unless he wasn't a friend and just a person that sits with him and he was just asking for no reason other than curiosity and oh no! Now she's about to drop this bomb on him that he wasn't prepared for and he's gonna be really mad and-

'FOCUS, WOMAN.'

"I have a platonic soulmate."

'AND FULL SEND IT IS. CONGRATULATIONS!'

Her normal inner monologue was clearly returning the more time she spent with him. If Damian could only hear it... oof. He'd wonder how the Universe came to this match when looking over all the people of the world (and off world).

The conversation plans he had (but clearly had no idea how to execute) were derailed with this sudden admittance. But, finally he showed a visible emotion. Surprise wasn't really the one she would have gone for but beggars can't be choosers. He didn't respond right away so she kept going.

"His name is Adrien, and he's one of my best friends. It's the glowy kind where when you touch your skin glows. so, it doesn’t show up all the time. It's kinda cool. And it's totally platonic! We are just friends!"

He nodded slowly. He spent a few seconds cramming down any negative feelings towards this guy he'd never even met... well he had, but not as himself so it didn't count. And he knew this was coming, he just didn't realize she'd be so blatant. It was... rather refreshing that she didn't try to hide it. She didn't really know about his track record of jealousy (Lord knows Tim certainly does), so she didn't feel afraid sharing that other connection with him. It was, simply put, nice.

"Okay," was all he said, though, deciding to sort through the more complicated feelings later.

Normally he would have argued with.. well not her. It’s not her fault. But her wide eyes and earnest expression begged him to be okay with this.

“Okay,” he said again.

She seemed positively relieved. Somehow she understood what that okay conveyed - at least in part.

Let’s change the subject, shall we?

"So, since you are a vegetarian, what are your favorite recipes?"

And the conversation went on. For a good bit. Food is a lovely common ground between people trying to get to know each other. The conversation tapered off naturally, having went into the logistics of cooking meat replacements things, which, Marinette frankly knew nothing about.

Both vigilante and civilian were sitting relaxed in their respective spots, a comfortable silence all around them. They hadn't yet been able to just take in their soulmate yet, having the secret identities, sneaking in the window, and a liar knocking on the door to deal with. The next night, Alya would be moving into this room, unable to stand Lila anymore, especially after hearing the full extent of her best friend's rivalry with the girl. Marinette had to be sure to tell Robin that they would have to figure something else out the subsequent nights she would be in Gotham.

It was Marinette that eventually broke the easy silence. She'd managed to get the platonic soulmate situation off her chest, but one, that may be far more pressing, remained.

"Lying by omission is still lying, non?"

He thought for a moment before answering.

"Most people would say that, yes."

Nodding thoughtfully, Marinette gently folded her hands in her lap, taking a second to gather her words before speaking. She was fairly confident she had his identity figured out. By her logic, and his if he considered himself "most people", not telling him what she knew was the same as deceiving him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I hate lying. I'm awful at it, too."

His usually straight expression twitched slightly, probably at the thought of the girl in front of him trying to tell a lie.

"And this is why you do not like Lila Rossi?" he supplied.

Marinette took his slight derailment in stride.

"Among other reasons, but that's not exactly where I'm going with this," she said.

The slight lift of the mask suggested he was raising his eyebrows.

"What is it, then?"

Marinette took in a breath and prayed he wouldn't be too upset.

A quiet but urgent beep interrupted her train of thought. Robin frowned and reached down to look at the offending communicator.

He let out a sound of intense frustration, before looking across to where Red Robin was currently standing, waving him over.

"I'm afraid I must cut this short, Marinette. I am required elsewhere."

He started towards the window.

"Okay, but-"

He looked back, expectant but tense. She backpedaled. She wouldn't be able to function on a mission if someone were to drop an identity compromising anvil on her head, so she wouldn't do it to him either.

"It can wait."

Nodding he said, "See you tomorrow."

And he swung away. She watched as he landed alongside Red Robin, who hardly waited for him to catch his balance before dashing off into the distance. As soon as the two were out of her range of vision, Tikki appeared by her head.

Marinette looked like a thousand pounds had just been added to her shoulders. She threw up her arms in a silent freakout, trying not to alert her room neighbors of her recent strife. Tikki simply shook her head.

"Don't worry, Marinette," she said at her holder's expression. "You'll get another chance tomorrow."

'Tomorrow. Tom- TOMORROW?!'

"Tikki!"

All the blood fell out of her face.

"Alya is moving in here tomorrow after school!" she screeched as loud as she dared. "I cannot believe I forgot to tell him that very vital detail!"

She dropped her face into her hands. Her head popped back up quite fast, Tikki was sure she hurt her neck, and began pacing.

"I have to figure out how to tell him..." she muttered. "Maybe I could leave a note in the window- no, Alya might see it..."

"Marinette."

She kept on mumbling, going over as many options as she could think of to solve this.

"Marinette!"

The kwamii finally got the girl's attention and smiled to soothe her.

"You go to school with him. You'll just have to send the message that way."

"... yes! Okay, okay, so tomorrow after class I will go find Alya - she's in his class right? - and I ask her about moving in... yeah! That'll work! Thank you, Tikki, you're a lifesaver."

She collapsed on the bed, suddenly drained after her panic.

"Okay. I have a plan. Everything will be fine."

***

Okay unlike the last few times, i kinda have most of the next chapter written already so the wait shouldnt be nearly as long

Thank you all for the continued feedback and support! I really appreciate all of you ❤

please dont be afraid to let me know if ive made a continuity error or something similar and feel free to ask me questions!

@vixen-uchiha @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @violatiger8 @mochinek0 @constancetruggle @yamadochie @seraphichana @captainmac6 @nataladriana9 @iggy-of-fans @riarkle-felinettelove @luciferge @mystery-5-5 @mellownieice @northernbluetongue @imanerddealwith @ayuchan07 @annabellabrookes @legendaryneckjudgestudent @chez-pezeater @friedchickening @da-tasuky @crazylittlemunchkin @g-arya @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @witchbitch1998  @theatreandcomicfreak @lysslovsanime @zalladane @tbehartoo @goggles-mcgee @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @melicmusicmagic @ladybug-182 @chaosace @mariae2900 @vivilakitty @xxmadamjinxx @akbtch @7701deathlyhalfbloodprincess @elspethshadow @danielslilangel @tinyterror333 @maynora @anjuschiffer @creator-josie @fontegagrilledcheese @jessigurl-design @allolale @caffeine-theory @zerotosiki @draco-kasai @schrodingers25 @cassiejaydee @synnesstra @oscarwilde-hellyeah @valeks-princess @winter-gardenflower @novicevoice @cadencehood @sassy-spocko @rogueptoridactyl @dast218 @kae690 @thequestionablyhuman @18-fandoms-unite-08 @beaversuenightly @graduatedmelon @dur55 @gaylord1027 @fertileleaf @tall-and-angry @kurogaya913 @littleblue5mcdork @completelypeccable @sassydepression @resignedcatservant @batmans-attic @linnyalou @shreky-boi @actual-disaster-human @kandi-pie @gingersnapnoir @disneyfoxuniverse @souleateralicestein @crazyrandomrebel @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @emjrabbitwolf @loysydark @ethelphantom @felicityroth @lordsmeldingtonthethird @mjisntme @the7dreadlysins @marinettepotterandplagg @kand-roo @lunar-wolf-warrior @rydellakurancarson @mindfulmagics @shamefullove @thebookish3lf @dawnwave16 @miraculousbelladonna @wargraymon0709 @thatrandomfandomsgirl @clumsy-owl-4178 @fatimaabbasrizvi @two-faced-biatch @weird-pale-blonde-person @iloontjeboontje @yuulxd @lady13bug @mmwolf1605 @naclychilli @mysticknown @crytallized @ladysblackcat @storyteller-d @trashtalkintacotruck @kris-pines04 @riptide4 @thethirdwheelfriend @alessialeone6997 @mlbchaosqueen @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @royalchaoticfangirl @maya-custodios-dionach @multplelifes @magicalfirebird @todaylillypads @spider-person95 @magic-miraculous @horseshoe-lilacs @lizziejay @emeraldpuffguide @judas-yeast @candymoods99 @kittycatwowmeow @slytherinqueen2432 @alexresides @trubel43 @sonif50 @zoerayne2426 @jardimazul-blog @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @kawaiigiantjudgefish @tired-butterfly @mortemillion @nomiegnome @silent-storms-posts @tamoni112 @procrasinatingrightnow @bookishfangirl7 @fiendsangelical @7-sage-7 @risingmoonyue @a-star-with-a-human-name @thatoneblogyoufollow @sassakitty @xgxmxtx @fffakehappy @thesunanditsangel @shadowheart31 @bobothyross @psychixx @hauntedwintersweets @solarcupid @fristi37 @jeminiikrystal @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @maribat-mood @im-a-useless-and-shitty-blob @queenmj10 @komatsuna-yuki

[languagebraindump]

Modality in languages 

What’s up with that? I mean, sounds too fancy, right? Well, modality allows us to express the 'possibility' of a past, present, or future situation. It helps us convey our desires, the likelihood of a situation, and that something is permissible. In some languages, it is well-developed and standardized (like in English) or like in Polish or Japanese, not so much. 

Another definition that will help us understand things better is ‘displacement.’

In linguistics, displacement is the capability of language to communicate about things that are not immediately present (spatially or temporally). (Wikipedia)

Animals communicate things that are only happening now; in front of their eyes. Human beings can go further than that. We can talk about the past, future, present, alternative past situations, imaginary/unreal situations, etc. 

Modality is a sign of displacement. It helps us express extra information about a verb, for example, whether the verb is possible to happen, how sure I am about the verb to happen, whether it’s a good idea or maybe it is just my guess. AMAZING feature. 

Whenever I ask my students: "What does it mean that a verb is modal?" No one knows. They just learn 1:1 translations. I know, it’s easier that way, and not everyone wants to be a proficient user of a foreign language. But I really believe that adopting that bottom-up approach in learning is so much better and efficient. Let’s start small, let’s define the core meaning first, let’s build a solid foundation on which we can build up our knowledge. 

Modality in English

I’m sharing this with you. It’s from Grammarway 4. Amazing book. It briefly summarizes the CONCEPT of each modal verb.

My biggest issue is that none of that corresponds to the Japanese modality. You just can’t find pairs that would be like must = [Japanese phrase #1]; should = [Japanese phrase #2].  

I'm Polish, and learning English modal verbs was a pain in the ass! (It still is sometimes) Why? Because rather than using one modal verb, let’s say should, to express certain concepts, we use multiple phrases (in Polish). There is a 1:1 translation tho (for should), but depending on the CONTEXT, the SPEAKER, the NUANCE, we can resort to something completely different, a phrase that is 5-words long but conveys the same meaning as should. Why do such a thing? Maybe, I didn’t want to sound super harsh, like a preacher; maybe, I wanted to signal something without coming across as bossy. Lots of reasons. 

I’m studying Japanese in English, and that creates lots of problems sometimes. Polish is similar to Japanese in way more aspects than English. (For example, both belong to high/middle context cultures, which are apparent in language). Unfortunately, there aren’t enough Polish resources to study Japanese. Modality is one of those problems. 

What helped me a lot with learning about modality was: 

reading the situation; analyzing the context;

modal verbs = concepts; 

a modal verb in English = too many phrases in Japanese; 

the choice of a phrase in Japanese is dictated by the speaker's current attitude to a situation. 

Fancy quote #1 

In Japanese linguistics, ‘modality’ is typically defined as the category of linguistic expressions that serve to express the speaker's current attitude to a proposition (Nakau: 1979)

Fancy quote #2

Modality has to do with necessity and possibility. (Kratzer 1981:39)

Fancy quote #3 

The interpretation of natural language sentences is investigated against the backdrop of a set of possible worlds representing any conceivable state of affairs, one of them the actual world.(Kaufmann & Tamura: 2017)

[there are two worlds the current one, and the one that is expressed through modal verbs] 

Four types of modality 

epistemic modality (i.e., expressions that relate to displacement according to what is known or believed, conjectures, guesses) 

epistemic: relating to knowledge or the study of knowledge (Macmillan dictionary)

prioritizing modality (i.e., expressions that characterize what is permitted, required, or desired) 

dynamic modality (relating to what courses of events are compatible with a particular body of facts/ circumstances and/or a subject’s abilities, describing abilities). 

denotic modality (i.e., modal expressions relating to permissions, requirements, and wishes; modal expressions that relate to rules, laws, or regulations of some sort) (Kaufmann & Tamura: 2017）

Expressions of epistemic modality 

～だろう, ～はずだ, ～に違いない, and ～かもしれない are conventionally associated with the domain of knowledge and belief.  

だろう・でしょう・はずだ  express the outcome of an inferential process (Hara 2006). (conclusions; speculations; assumptions) 

に違いない (lit. ‘there is no mistake in’, Narrog 2009:89) suggests that what comes before it is entailed. As in: Spending more than you earn, entails financial problems; Being rich entails the risk of being robbed. 

You must be rich =  お金持ちに違いない (what is implied and could be before this phrase is: seeing your huge house, expensive car, and other luxuries ← these entail richness. You must be rich.) 

かもしれない (lit. ‘can’t know whether’) suggests that whatever comes before it is compatible with what is known. Simply put, it means that the information marked by かもしれない can coexist with what we know. We’re preparing a presentation, and we need more ideas. We’re brainstorming some, and I throw in something marked by かもしれない. I did no harm, and my idea can coexist with other ideas (that kind of feeling). 

There’s definitely more phrases. Check out my cool Deidara post for that. I haven’t included all of them tho.

Prioritizing modality 

I like to think about it as a scale (priority scale). 1 = not important, whatever; 10 = you’ll end up in the pits of hell if you do or do not do something. Some things are super important and some are not. Japanese uses conditional(-like) constructions to express that something is permissible or required in view of the relevant rules or goals. 

Among the expressions that relate to rules, regulations, or laws, goals, and wishes, we can distinguish: (I'd place these expressions between 5 and 10. You need to consider who is the speaker as well. If the emperor tells you that something is てもいい well, THE EMPEROR said that, so it’s 10 and don’t you dare to argue with that.) 

～てもいい （It is good even if you [verb.])

～ではいけない  (If/when [verb/phrase], it can’t go.)

～なければならない・いけない  (‘If I [verb/phrase], it doesn’t become.)

(These are 1- 5. BUT! If Madara used one of these, I’d consider it 10 no matter what, lol)

～ほうがいい; the weaker notion that something is recommendable based on practical considerations (without being outrightly necessary) (lit. ‘the direction is good’).

～べきだ; the formal noun べきだ is semantically similar but tends to involve a notion of moral or social appropriateness, which can be absent from ほうがいい. 

～たらいい; giving advice

Extra: forms expressing wishes such as ～たい; ～てほしい; ～つもりです are also included in the prioritizing modality. Definitely weaker than the abovementioned ones. 

Finally, imperatives (verbal ending ～え/～よ/～ろ) and ～なさい, (used with children and for instructions) as well as ～てください (for polite requests; and ”let’s [verb]” forms, also express notions of prioritizing modality. 

Check out my cool Sakura post for more! 

There’s also a dynamic modality! But I’ll leave it for another day! I’ve already composed posts related to prioritizing modality and epistemic modality. I’m yet to look for some examples of dynamic modality. It’s better that way.

Note: I haven’t included any translations here (should; must, might; etc). I want you to think of these phrases in different categories. Ok, so I’m making an assumption. How sure I am about it? Who is my speaker? Are there any evidence for my assumptions? Instead of looking for 1:1 translation, analyze the context!

References:

https://semanticsarchive.net/Archive/jQ3MTA2Z/kaufmann-tamura-japanese-modality.pdf

[nanami-says]

Part III (1/2): chapters 19-25

Vs. Mahito Arc

Chapter 19 (aka why this blog exists)

J:”Yeah, we know that. But we flatter her because she looks easy.”

⇒ ”And the three of them know it as well. But they flatter you exaggeratedly anyway because they think you’ll let them do you”

Actually Junpei’s lines.

J:”I can’t believe people like that go to my school.”

Not incorrect, I just want to point out that Junpei didn’t just say “people”, the word he used is “race” (人種）, which implies he doesn’t see them as the same kind of human he is.

J:”Was it that guy who did it? There’s no way a person could do that! If he did it, he must not be human.”

⇒ “Was it that person just now? No, would such a thing be even possible for a human being? And if it was, would they really be a ‘human being’?”

Overall correct but the flow was different. Mind you, 人 can be translated both as “person” and “human being” (among others) depending on the context. Imo this captures the nuance better but YMMV!

N:”I’m here to identify the truth and uphold the law. There was a time when I thought the society had the same goals”

⇒ ”Adapting to the facts [in front of you] and managing yourself accordingly. That’s who I am. There was a time where I mistakenly believed society operated on the same basis.”

This was really hard to translate, especially since the phrase Nanami uses here is rather formal language. I actually checked the official anime subtitles for this one and they went with “I adhere to the facts and judge on that basis”, which I guess is close enough? I’d probably go with it as well if not for the fact that he doesn’t just say 律する but 己を律する (己/onore = I/me in humble language).

Seems like the exact meaning of the phrase is difficult to understand even for Japanese people - there are whole articles out there breaking down the meaning and giving examples of how to implement it in life 8D Anyway, the simplest explanation is “to control yourself”, with further nuance of “enforcing rules on yourself in order to achieve a goal”, “restricting your desires and impulses by your own will” etc.

Thanks a lot, Gege.

Btw, Ino, who respects Nanami greatly and considers him a mentor, actually uses the same phrase, word for word, in ch. 95! (事実に即し、己を律する) That’s how important it is. Also, continuity!

Y:”Let’s do it!”

N:”There’s no need to get excited”

⇒ Y:“Let’s go all out!!”

 N:”No, if moderate’s enough, let’s just do it moderately”

They both used descriptors for just what kind of intensity they should approach the mission with. Imo, an important distinction because after they learn the full extent of the situation, Nanami takes back his words from this moment and agrees with Yuuji, going as far as to use the same words Yuuji did here.

N:”I wonder what others would think hearing you say that”

⇒ “I’m sure the others wouldn’t want to hear that from you [of all people]”

So not so much “don’t be rude” as “dude, you’re the weirdest of them all”. Emphasis mine.

N:”What I learned at Jujutsu High is that jujutsu sorcerers are idiots” 

& “What I realized while at the office is that work is idiotic”

He actually says “shit” both times lol. If it was just the humour that suffered here, it still wouldn’t be too awful but unfortunately it’s not just that. The “sorcerers are shit” line gets recalled when Nanami’s facing death, trapped in Mahito’s domain, which makes it pretty damn important. It gets translated yet differently by the official release then, too, which further damages continuity I believe Gege intended for this.

”So I took the lesser of two evils. Nothing more, nothing less”

⇒ “If both are shit, then I just chose the one I’m more cut out for. That’s all as far as the reason for my coming back is concerned.”

I mean, if we realllllly insist on watering down everything that Nanami says (as JJK translators apparently did), then the basic meaning was conveyed but the original wording and nuance was closer to what I proposed.

N:”Prove to me that you can be useful in spite of the demon Sukuna inside of you”

⇒ “Give your best to prove that you’re useful despite carrying the bomb that Sukuna is.”

Considering how 2 pages later Nanami tells Yuuji that he’s not the one Yuuji should be proving himself to, it’d have been weird if this is actually what he’d said, wouldn’t it. But Nanami’s nothing if not reasonable, so that wasn’t the case.

Y:”I’m weak and useless. I’ve been hearing a lot of that these days”

⇒ “That I’m weak and useless... I’ve been realising that to a painful extent these days”

“I’ve been hearing it” would imply that someone was actually saying it either to Yuuji himself or to others which he was aware of. (I mean, other than Sukuna.) The original wording doesn’t really hold such connotation.

N:”If you think you’re in trouble, let me know”

Y:”Have some faith in me, will ya? Just a little.”

N:”It’s not about faith.(...)”

Y:”A child? I’d rather be underestimated”.

⇒ N:“If you decide you cannot win, please call me.”

Y:”Aren’t you underestimating me too much?”

N:”This is not about ‘underestimating’ or ‘not underestimating’.(...)

Y:”[Even] being underestimated would’ve been better over being treated like a kid.”

I guess the translators wanted to avoid saying “underestimate” 3 times in a row? Albeit that’s what the original does.

More importantly though!!

N:”I’m an adult and you’re a child. I have the obligation to look after you”

⇒ “(...) It’s my obligation to prioritise you over myself.”

Quite a different nuance, right. Not just “I have to look after you” but “your well-being [life] takes priority over my own”.

N:”Experiencing these little losses is what helps people grow into adults”

⇒ “It’s the accumulation of such small despairs that turns people into adults”

Not that wildly different but despairs (hopelessnesses) >>> losses, y/y. Also “helps” made it sound more positive when it’s both a poignant and at the same time dry statement.

Chapter 20

N:”There are techniques that aren’t affected if revealed to certain enemies”

Those two feel more like separate examples to me. I.e. that there are techniques that aren’t affected if revealed, and there are some enemies that you can afford to reveal your technique to. Could apply simultaneously but don’t necessarily have to, if that makes sense?

“There is a merit to revealing one’s hand and the rules it initiates. You can make your technique even more effective.”

⇒ “It has its merits too. The ‘binding’ of ‘revealing one’s hand’ amplifies the effectiveness of your technique.”

Wild lost “binding” appears! Like I indicated before, it’s the lack of consistency to translating terms that are consistent in the original, that has negatively affected the fans’ ability to understand the basics of jjk techniques and world-building.

[Explaining Yuuji’s divergent fist]

GJ:”But it’s a lot easier said than done for anyone else.”

⇒ “It’s not something that can be easily done on purpose”

N:”His physical strength is superhuman. The impact of his hit doesn’t have incredibly strong energy, but it’s still about 20% more than a normal sorcerer. That means his delayed hit comes from his main source of cursed energy. It must be quite annoying for those on the receiving end. Such potential. If he’s able to go out all and combine his full physical strength with a cursed technique…”

⇒ “(...) The initial impact contains little cursed energy but it still achieves 120% of an average sorcerer. And then the actual cursed energy hits with a delay. For those on the receiving end it must be more unpleasant than one could imagine. And he’s got potential for growth, too. If he becomes able to add 100% of cursed energy to a 100% body…”

Uhh, this was a tricky one because on the first read it doesn’t seem that terribly wrong but when you read the original carefully, you realise this and that got lost in translation. My version should be closer to the original meaning.

I:”We’re going to have to ask the murderer about the technique”

⇒ “That’s just something that you can’t know unless you ask the offender about their technique”

Obviously Ieiri wasn’t suggesting to literally ask the murderer.

“However there’s evidence the brain stems were modified. Their consciousness were also modified to create a state of confusion”

⇒ (...) This was probably done to create a disturbance of consciousness... a state of mental confusion”

Slightly different nuance for this one.

Y:”For me, the gravity of death is the same regardless. This isn’t right!”

First sentence is mostly correct but it should’ve been “the gravity of death of another person” (emphasis mine).

Second sentence sounds too mild for what is actually Yuuji being super mad specifically about the way those people were killed? The phrase he uses means something like "This is just in way too poor taste”, “way too vulgar” etc. I guess if you went for a less literal translation, you could say “just too disgusting”/”revolting”.

N:”This matter won’t be taken care of so easily. Let’s do it”

⇒ “Looks like ‘moderately’ won’t be enough here. Let’s go all out.”

This is the instance of Nanami retracting his words and backing Yuuji up by borrowing his own words that I mentioned earlier!

M:”Jujutsu sorcerers brand such entities as “special grade potential spirits” and fear them as much as powerful curses. The fact that they categorize them as such really shows their shallowness”

⇒ “Jujutsu sorcerers register them as “special grade potential apparitions” and remain on alert against them [on alert for their appearance]. The same applies to powerful unidentified curses. That they categorise them as ‘potential apparitions’ just shows how little they truly see.”

It’s not that sorcerers fear them per se but that they (most likely) monitor them and are on guard against them. When followed up by the “what people truly genuinely fear are natural disasters [forces of nature]” conversation, it becomes clear that what Mahito scorns sorcerers for is their short-sightedness for thinking all powerful curses must be born out of people’s imagination, ~urban legends~ etc.

[Junpei asking what Mahito was born from]

M:”Thanks to the hatred spewed between people I was born”

⇒ “I’m a curse born out of the fear and hatred people harbour towards [other] people"

or even

“I’m a curse born out of people hating and fearing people”

Again a quite different nuance. They really shouldn’t have edited “fear” out.

Chapter 21

J:’Don’t you think that whoever first said, ‘The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference’ must be rotting in hell? There’s no way hating people is better than feeling indifferent towards them.”

⇒ “(...) There’s no way that approaching others with evil intentions is better than not interacting [with them] at all”

The first sentence is mostly fine although the original doesn’t include the “is not hate” bit, it only says “the opposite of love is indifference”. The second part is quite different. After all, hating doesn’t necessarily imply there’s any action taken.

“Complicating simple things for the sake of meaning is such a Japanese thing to do”

⇒ “Japanese sure love it - complicating simple answers and gloating in it”

I didn’t like the “for the sake of meaning” bit, imo it’s over-interpreting.

J:”Indifference. That’s what humans should strive for.”

M:”Sounds more like revenge”

J:“Are you saying that I got it all mixed up?”

Junpei’s first line here is fine although interestingly enough he puts it as “a virtue humans should strive for”. Then it’s

⇒ M:“And yet you wish for revenge”

J:”Are you trying to say I’m contradicting myself?”

M:”In this world, only I understand the soul’s composition. I can even transmogrify living beings. Emotions come from the soul. It’s too simplistic to call it ‘heart’. People overthink the things they can’t see. (...)”

⇒ “In this world I’m the only one who understands the soul’s composition. After all, I change the shape of living beings by touching it. Emotions are products of the metabolism of the soul. It’s altogether too mechanical [of a process] to call it a heart. People assign too much value to things invisible to the eye.(...)”

Last one is literally “consider ‘special’ way too much”, simpler wording than what I went with but I tried to make it more legible.

The “metabolism of the soul” phrase is especially vital because Junpei throws it at Yuuji almost word for word when confronted by him at the school after his mother’s death.

More philosophy lessons from Mahito-sensei \o/

“Don’t limit yourself to just being indifferent. There’s no reason to live by such a restricting philosophy.”

⇒ “Don’t allow yourself to be shackled by the ideal called ‘indifference’. There’s no need for there to be consistency in one’s way of life.”

Mahito actually takes the “is ‘consistency’ necessary” stance a few times in the manga, including when he and Getou squabble about the relationship between the body and the soul in Shibuya. A pity about the mistranslation here.

“I support everything you represent, Junpei”

⇒ “I’ll affirm your everything, Junpei”

Imo the act of supporting and the act of affirming while similar aren’t one and the same, hence the change.

N:”Either come alone, or risk bringing Itadori with me. I chose the former, nothing more. He’s still a child, after all.”

⇒ “The risk of venturing [into the enemy’s territory] alone, or the risk of bringing Itadori-kun with me. I simply chose the former. He’s still a child, after all.”

Idk, I feel like cutting out “the risk” from the first option makes Nanami sound more callous? Like Yuuji’s a liability and going by himself is a sounder option. Whereas, it was actually him weighing two risks against each other and deciding that potentially endangering Yuuji is the one he can afford less.

[After Yuuji asks why he doesn’t know important jujutsu related stuff.]

I:”Because Gojou’s your mentor.” ⇒ “it’s because Gojou’s ...”

He actually uses a lovely adjective to describe Gojou, which can mean a plethora of things, including: irresponsible, sloppy, lazy, unreliable, careless, perfunctory etc. etc.

Ichiji? Not a member of Gojou Satoru Fanclub.

Y:”This feels like a bad plan”

⇒ “This feels so staged, I don’t like it.”

Lit. “play [perform, read] one's own work”. I think what Yuuji might’ve meant here was that the plan felt dishonest? Second sentence could also be “I don’t feel up for it.”

Chapter 22

M:”Was that some kind of cursed technique?”

N:”What do you mean by ‘some kind’? I don’t appreciate questions that are left open to interpretation”

⇒ “(...) I hate abstract questions that put the whole burden on the other person”

Lit. “that leave it to others”. Other than Nanami being more straightforward with “hate”/”dislike”, I think this was him expressing he doesn’t like people who don’t even try to think for themselves and immediately demand answers from others instead.

“It would be silly to not assume a connection(...)”

⇒ “It would be more unnatural not to assume a connection(...)”

Different wording (unnatural instead of silly), which imo affects Nanami’s characterisation.

M:”The shape of the body will always be dependent on the shape of the soul”

This sounds a bit too passive and generic? Closer to “The shape of the body gets pulled along by the shape of the soul”, which is literally what Mahito’s technique does.

I’m heavily paraphrasing but!

magazine raw scans: ”it's 6:30 PM now and I started working at 11 AM, so I'm going to finish by 7PM no matter what”

official English release:”it's 5:30 PM now and I started at 10, gotta finish by 6”

The time change is so random, I wonder if Gege simply changed it themselves for the volume release. Maybe to bring it closer to the common office job times? Typical Japanese work day at the office begins at 9AM and lasts 8h + 1h break (completely unpaid but compulsory). I guess if Nanami skipped the break then working 10AM-6PM would make it exactly 8h?

The biggest mystery of jjk.

Chapter 23

M:”Even if sorcerers can protect their bodies using cursed energy, they can’t protect their souls”

⇒ “Even if sorcerers can protect their bodies using cursed energy, they [just] aren’t used to protecting their souls”.

So it’s not that they “can’t” as in “are incapable of” and more that there’s never been the need, so they never learned how and aren’t used to doing it. As proven by Yuuji later it’s not impossible.

M:”Overtime? He restricts himself based on time! He was limiting his power until now!”

⇒ “Overtime work? A ‘biding’ based on time! He was suppressing his power by himself until now!”

Another instance where “binding” as a term makes its appearance (it even uses quotation marks) but wasn’t properly denoted by the translators.

M:”A large-scale attack, and he doesn’t care if he gets hit while doing it!”

⇒ “A large-scale attack [done] with the resolve of [potentially] getting killed along with me!”.

The phrase Mahito uses here is 相打ち, lit. “killing [hitting] each other at the same time”. Also, “doesn’t care” and “is prepared/has the resolve” are quite different, aren’t they.

Chapter 24

J:”The way a perfectionist is willing to lay everything out there is beautifully portrayed”

⇒ ”The change in emotions [leading up] to a perfectionist abandoning everything is properly portrayed here”

I’m including this because knowing Gege, it’s not just simple movie talk, and it’s actually foreshadowing Yuuji’s future fate or something 8D

I can’t decide if it’s “abandon” (also “throw out of the window”) or “sacrifice” because the word used can mean either. I’m leaving that to everyone’s interpretation.

“Like I thought, that sorcerer’s nuts!”

⇒ “He doesn’t look it but he sure does reckless things, that sorcerer”

How does "he doesn't look it but (...)" even become "like I thought (...)"? He was laughing at and enjoying the contrast between Nanami's appearance/attitude and his actions/fighting.

M:”My cursed energy is also controlled by my will”

⇒ “The spending of cursed energy too is among things I can supply by myself.”

I’m not entirely sure because it’s a tricky one, so take this one with a grain of salt. But the official release is definitely missing “spending/expenditure” and Mahito isn’t talking about using/manipulating his cursed energy in general but “the amount of cursed energy spent”.

“Mr. Irresponsible Gojou” ⇒  “Devil-may-care Gojou-san”

“Mr. Mature Nanami” ⇒ “The adult of [all] adults Nanami-san”/”the adult above all adults”

I just really enjoy Ichiji and his little epithets, I guess.

J:”Have you ever killed anyone?”

⇒ “Have you ever killed a human being/another human?”

Just putting it out there because imo there's a distinction between “anyone” and “a human being”. Especially considering how much of this arc was questioning what being a human means.

Y:”Um… I mean, the choice to kill will definitely find its way to me”

⇒ "How to put it... once I've killed someone, "killing" would become one of the possible options [to take] in my life".

Maybe the nuance was there in the official release too and I just didn't pick up on it but to me the former makes it sound more like he’s saying "I may still have to kill one day". Whereas the original seems to hold the connotation that if you do something once - even if it’s something as horrible as killing another human being - it becomes easier to do it again in the future because it's a choice you've made before, it's not untouchable anymore.

Chapter 25

[Yuuji expressing his regret over Nanami choosing to go fight Mahito alone.]

"Am I in your way, Nanamin?”

⇒ “Am I a burden [to you], Nanamin?”

A different nuance for this line.

“’My friend died but I wasn’t there because I’m a child.’ I wouldn't do that to you. That said"

⇒ "’My comrade died. But I wasn’t there. Why? Because I am a child.’ I would hate something like that" [to be put in such a position]

And this is just pure mistranslation. The whole “my comrade died but I wasn’t there because I’m a child” line is actually Yuuji painting a possible scenario (he does it with short sentences but the speech is overall polite). What they translated as “that said” was actually a follow-up to that scenario and could be translated as “something like that”.

N:”Being a child is not a bad thing”

⇒ “Being a child is in no way a crime”

I wanted to point this out since the original word’s most common meaning is actually “sin”, which is significantly heavier than just “not a bad thing”. Could also go with a milder “is not something to feel guilty about” here I guess.

G:”How’s the curtain coming along?”

M:”Can’t get in, can get out. This only applies to humans with weak cursed energy.”

⇒ G:”What’s the effect of the ‘curtain’?”

M:“Can't get out from the inside, can get in from the outside. (...)”

Literally the opposite for the curtain’s effect. Emphasis is Gege’s, too! Also Getou’s question was actually about how exactly the curtain in question would work, and not just how it was coming along.

M:”We’ll make them fight and force Yuji Itadori to make a binding vow in Sukuna’s favor”

Just to reiterate, whenever “binding vow” appears, it’s actually just “binding”.

[to part iii (2/2)]

[to part iii (2/2)]

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 10+CG)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!♡

Monologue

The interior of Scarlet’s mansion was now completely different than it used to be as everyone felt a certain sense of urgency to claim the seat as the supreme ruler.

The main cause of this is because of Shu and Reiji-san.

A few days have passed since the fight took place, but the relationship between both of them is still as perilous as it has always been. Even if they have to face each other, not a single word is exchanged between them.

While I and Yuma-kun, didn’t even try to hide our confusion about what happened, Kino-kun viewed this situation as rather optimistic.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Corridor

Yui: (I think I’ve never witnessed such a quarrel between brothers in the Sakamaki mansion before… I wonder what caused this to happen?)

(There are still so many things I need to talk to him about, including the state of everyone’s memories and the mastermind’s intentions)

(But since especially Shu and Reiji-san can’t reconcile, we won’t be able to move on in any sort of way)

...I’ve got no choice, but to have a daringly talk with him about this matter then.

*Yui knocks*

Yui: Shu-san, it’s me. Would you mind if I come in?

Shu: ...Do as you please.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu‘s bedroom

Yui: Pardon me.

(Shu-san, he’s laying in his bed… which means he was probably sleeping until I entered)

Excuse me, were you sleeping?

Shu: Yes… but I was getting tired of lying in bed all day, so you didn’t particularly disturb me.

Yui: I wish there could’ve at least been a music mechanism to listen to music while staying in here.

Shu: You’re clearly pining something we can’t have in this house.

Leaving that aside, come here.

Yui: Eh? Do you need anything?

Uwah...

(Ugh, he pushed me… !)

Shu: It won’t feel as bored as I do, if you’re lying next to me.

Yui: I-If that’s so… I’ll gladly come closer.

Shu: You must really like the feeling of being held in my arms. It’s good to have a body pillow like you anyway.

Yui: Ah, was that a different way of saying that I’m somehow stout?

Shu: Fufu, who knows?

Yui: Come on… I can clearly see you’re laughing.

Shu: You shouldn‘t worry about these extraordinary things. You can at least accompany me with your nonexisting body while laying in bed.

Yui: (...Don’t say these things while you’re looking at my chest like this. You shouldn’t act like Ayato-kun would…)

Yui: (But it seems as if Shu-san’s in a good mood again. Maybe now’s the perfect time to ask him about Reiji-san)

Ah, about what happened with Reiji-san...

Shu: ...Why are you mentioning that name now of all time?

Yui: Err… umm… because you two didn’t act normal back then in the hallway… that’s all I want to know.

Shu: ...Aha.

Yui: (And of course once I just slightly mention Reiji-san’s name, he starts to act all pouty over it…)

(How badly I wish for them to reconcile. However, knowing their circumstances, this is impossible for me to say to him)

*Shu pushes Yui away*

Shu: Now that I’ve heard that unpleasant name, I want to go to sleep again. Listen, you have to remember this. Don’t get involved in unnecessary trouble.

Yui: Ah… y-yes.

(As soon as I tried getting up from his bed… I noticed how he formed wrinkles in the area between his eyebrows)

(It’s so unusual for him to set up this kind of stature, because of a small thing like this. Is he really mad at me for what I said?)

*someone harshly opens door*

Yuma: Hey, Shu! You here!?

Yui: Yuma-kun!?

Yuma: What? You were with Eve together here? Well, you’re still her guard, so I guess that justified this.

Shu: Don’t enter my room so abruptly.

Yuma: There‘s no particular reason to care about that, we’re still siblings after all.

Apart from that, I’ve brought something really good with me that should make you feel better.

Yui: Something good?

Yuma: Correct. I’ve also got a portion prepared for you, don’t worry.

C’mon, look! These are some sugar cubes I reserved!

Yui: ...Eh?

Shu: ...Hah? Why did you bring sugar cubes with you?

Yuma: I brought them with me because they were coming along with other stuff in the supply box today.

I actually planned to have them all for myself, but they’re this special that I had to share them.

Shu: I don’t especially need them.

Yuma: Don’t decline them like that! Whenever you get irritated, sweet things are always the best choice to make.

Shu: I can’t get the meaning of eating such things as sweet food anyway.

Yuma: You haven‘t experienced the strength these sugar cubes have within them then. You’ll understand how tasty they are once you at least try one of them.

Yui: (Perhaps Yuma-kun’s expressing how worried he was about Shu-san in his very own way right now)

By any chance, did you come over here to encourage and cheer up Shu-san after what happened recently?

Yuma: Hah? Ahh, if you want to call it that...

But I was concerned about you both, since it’s not normal for us as brothers to start squabbling and mocking each other like that.

So as I expected, you have a rather hard time laughing this off recently.

Yui: I see… thank you.

Yuma: Hah? Why are you being so grateful all of the sudden? Weird woman.

Shu: You seriously meant what you said about checking on me and Reiji because you were concerned?

Yuma: That’s exactly what I said just now. I thought there must’ve been more behind it than you two showed.

Listen, I always see you either sleeping or looking totally bored with no sense of motivation on your face whatsoever.

Yui: (Err, this might be an awful topic right now…)

Yuma: But, sharing your thoughts to make others understand, is what a real man should do.

I know I’ve got no right to break into your trouble with each other, yet we’re family and I want to understand this matter.

I mean, even that chap Reiji noticed how he made a fool of himself because of that. That‘s why, I hope you’ll be vigorous soon again, big brother.

Shu: It’s a somehow strange feeling to have you treat me like an older brother. 

Yuma: Hah? To say it like that, even though I went through the trouble telling you that.

Shu: Not that I begged you to tell me though.

Yuma: Hah!? Jeez, at least I’m honest about my feelings.

♡Roses♡

Yui‘s head: Hey, what‘s there to laugh about? Don‘t you feel bad for doing so now?

Yuma’s chest: No matter the circumstances, you really seem to never change yourself.

Yui: Fufu...

Yuma: Hey, Eve. What are you laughing at?

Yui: Ah, sorry. I somehow felt glad while hearing that.

(Although this entire situation is messy, it seems as if Shu-san and Yuma-kun are getting along quite well. I’m really happy about that)

Shu-san. Now that Yuma-kun went through the trouble bringing these to you, why don’t you eat them?

Shu: Haa… I’ve already told you that I’m not going to.

Your blood has probably way better taste than those sugar cubes do anyway.

Yui: W-What are you saying!? Don’t do that in front of Yuma-kun...

Shu: This should be irrelevant to another man listening. Aren’t you my property to begin with?

Yui: H-Hold on, Shu-san… !

Yuma: You two are somehow… getting incredible well along, aren’t you?

Don’t tell me, did you make Eve your girlfriend all of a sudden already?

Shu: That’s right.

Yuma: Hah!? For real!? Since when!?

Yui: A-Ah… Shu-san! Please come over here for a second!

*Yui pulls Shu aside*

Shu: What is it? For you to immediately grab my arm like that.

Yui: Is it really okay for you to tell him that? Yuma-kun doesn’t remember anything yet, and exactly because of that, he could still go against us… !

Shu: I don’t particularly mind. We’re telling him nothing else but the truth anyway.

Yui: Y-You’re right...

Shu: Didn’t you want to approach someone about this situation to begin with?

Choices

1) Honestly convey him (white)♡♡♡

2) Hide the truth from him (black)

— Honestly convey him♡

Yui: (It may be embarrassing to admit for me, but we need to honestly convey him)

No... that’s not true.

Even you as my lover were impressed by Yuma-kun, who would gladly do something to make you happy again. 

Shu: Heh… if so, it’s fine not to keep our secret anymore?

This way I wouldn’t have to necessarily hide you from all of the family members anymore.

— Hide the truth from him

Yui: I think it would be better… if we stay silent about this.

Shu: Then you could either tell Yuma this was a convenient and childish prank I put upon him

Or you go ahead and choose to stay to the truth, which is us being lovers.

Yui: Is that so...

Shu: You did look more happy than serious despite me telling him the truth all of the sudden anyway.

Yui: (That was… because I’d obviously be happy if someone introduced me as their lover)

(It really seems as if Shu-san’s able to see through everything I think about… I’m no match for him after all)

end Choices

Yuma: ...You know, both of you. I’d appreciate it if you could continue flirting once I left the room or whatever.

Yui: Eh… ! That wasn’t additionally our intention… !

Yuma: I was gonna leave anyway. This way I won‘t be an impediment on your doing.

Shu: Wait, Yuma. I need you to listen to a favor I have to ask.

Yuma: What is it? No need to be formal.

Shu: In case of an emergency, I wish for you to protect her instead of me.

Yui: Eh...

Yuma: Hah...? What are you suddenly blabbering about?

Shu: With my current circumstances, I might be at fault to get involved in another bad situation.

However, I place enough trust in you, because I do believe you’re a really reliable guy, to protect her in those given circumstances.

Therefore, I’ll rely on you and entrust this person to you, once the time to do so might come.

Yui: (Shu-san, what are you talking about? It’s as if you’re hinting at something happening…)

Shu-san...? Why are you saying this?

Yuma: She’s right. Stop saying these weird things, while you have such a serious face on.

On the contrary, if you suddenly start calling out for this sort of occurence to happen, there’s no way I’d not be terrified at first.

Shu: …..

Yui: (Shu-san… what‘s going through your head right now? This is somehow giving me a presentiment feeling…)

Yuma: But, okay… if anything is going to happen any time soon, you can surely rely on me.

Shu: Yes… I entrust her to you. 

Yuma: We have an agreement then. Well, just eat the sugar cubes I gave you, and make sure to cheer up.

See ya.

*Yuma leaves*

Yui: Ah… why did you promptly tell Yuma-kun to do such a thing… ?

Shu: You don’t have to worry about that.

Yui: But...

Shu: It’ll be fine. There’s no need for you to worry about anything.

Yui: (Those domineering eyes...)

(There may be more to this than he wants to admit, but if Shu-san tells me not to think about it too much, then—)

…Okay, fine. I won’t continue to ask anymore.

(I’ll keep believing in you, in Shu-san’s abilities)

Shu: Yes, leave it to me… and with this, this is the end of this topic.

Yui: Fine with me. Then, why don’t you eat the sugarcubes you’ve received from Yuma-kun now?

Shu: I won’t eat those sugary things. Why don’t you eat it instead?

Yui: Don‘t say such a harsh thing. After all, you got this as a gift to cheer up from Yuma-kun.

Shu: I’ve been telling you this some time ago already, didn’t I?

Yui: Ah… Shu-san.

Shu: Your blood is more appetizing and sweet-tasting compared to these sugar cubes.

I have my preferences, even if Yuma tried to cheer me up with these.

Wouldn’t it be natural for you as my lover to sympathize with me over such a fact?

Yui: …But a while ago, didn’t you say you don’t enjoy sweet food?

Shu: Don’t bother making me say it again. Your blood is the only special exception for me… No.

The taste your blood has makes me lose my mind every time over again. The reason I’m obsessed with it, is none other than its hot feeling which could make someone melt away.

Yui: ….. !

(For him to suddenly say all these things… I can’t possibly resist him like this)

Okay, I get it. Please drink as much as you like, until you feel satisfied.

Shu: Continue to leave your entire body to me. Your blood is to me, above anything else, tremendously delicious.

Yui: (Nn… he gently brushed my cheeks. It’s a good feeling having him do this…)

Shu: As I told you. This hot liquid makes anyone feel as if they had better dissolved.

I’ll have to diligently prepare it to make it digest then. You should know I usually wouldn’t bring up the time to do so.

Yui: (His fingers are at the nape of my neck… I feel them touching the outline of it)

(Seems as if he indeedly is going to suck my blood from this place)

Shu: What? You almost seem to run out of breath. Have you imagined me sucking your blood in the spot I’m currently touching?

Yui: Y-Yes...

Shu: At least you’re being honest today. Well, in that case I might just do as you wish… Nn...

Yui: Nn, Ah...

(His fangs pierced my neck… and my body already feels like heating up, despite him just starting)

Nn, Shu-san...

Shu: I understand. I won‘t restrain any longer then… Nn… Nn...

Yui: Ngh… Ah...

(The place he inserted his fangs is even hotter now... No, the blood flowing inside is what got hotter)

(So this is how it feels to be enlivened? It feels as if it’s my life, what he‘s currently sucking up)

(I wish for my blood to be able to continue satisfying Shu-san‘s life, despite it might overcoming him)

Shu: ...Nn… Nn...

Yui: (No matter what it takes, among all the things I can do, I’d especially do anything in order to keep Shu-san safe—)

[ofherlionheart]

10,12,18,22 for ask game!!( An I going overboard?? If yes any you want to answer only one please do 18)

not overboard at all! i find answering these to be fun. i’ve already done 12 and 18 but i’ll do a round two of 18 anyway lol

10. do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

i find dialogue the most fun because i love the challenge of getting characters to say things without actually saying it, or taking roundabout routes to get to a truth. it also tends to be what comes to me first—i’ll know the map of a conversation, and then i need to block out the scene that happens around it, and then that blocking sometimes makes me think of a different direction in which to take the dialogue.

i also think you can get a lot of character-building mileage out of dialogue, particularly since i prefer writing in a close third-person perspective. e.g. in like the sun inside of you, what mai and sokka do or don’t say is just as important—if not more—to their character development as what zuko thinks of them/how he understands them.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? give us the DVD commentary for that scene

im gonna give you two, actually, from to be only, to be every:

He feels like walls and scaffolding and infrastructure are crumbling to dust inside of him, and it feels disastrously wonderful to let go of this fight against gravity.

this is a line i loved from the moment i wrote it! sokka’s love language of being unexpectedly psychologically eviscerated is also one of my love languages, and i’ve long struggled to convey to friends why i’m like this. writing this scene really forced me to find those words, though, and i think it helped me understand that it’s about someone else seeing how messy and messed-up you are, without you even really realizing it, but them still loving you anyway. i (like sokka) think i build up very effective walls and shield what i believe to be uglier aspects of myself from the world, but when i’m given a reminder that there are people in my life who have quietly strolled through the labyrinth of self-defenses and chose anyway, without even telling me, to love and care for and support me … oof, dude. cue the tears

and, secondly:

If you let me nestle between your ribs, put down roots and grow like the shooting grasses of fields that do not know the darker acts of metal and men, your body will be my earth and I will make you rich.

this is a line that grew on me—i didn’t think much of it when i first wrote it. it was born out of a frustration with what tattoo z would get for s in a modern au—trying to work in sokka’s main canon symbols, like the boomerang or space sword, didn’t feel right (that’s also why i conveniently said sokka doesn’t know why zuko got sai for mai, lol). for a second i considered a physics-related tattoo, but i couldn’t think of anything that rly resonated, and besides, physics is a surface-level thing about s. z knows him more intimately than that.

so then i thought, what if it were words, rather than an image? and what if it was something that sokka wrote himself? that’s more personal/intimate. so the next challenge was, what is something that s would have written that stuck with z so strongly, he would get a tattoo about it? something that spoke to who s fundamentally is, probably.

i’d already planned out z’s other tattoos, and i thought the ribs would be a good spot for s’s tattoo, so i began the quote with that: if you let me nestle between your ribs. at this point, i’d already written the scene between s and yue at the restaurant, so i knew this tattoo had to emotionally destroy sokka. what would destroy sokka? if someone took a truth he knew about himself, but reframed it in a way that illustrated him even more clearly/kindly.

one of s’s truths, imo, is that he’s constantly giving and giving and giving himself, because he isn’t comfortable being let into other’s lives without the sense that he’s giving something in return. he’d the eldest sibling, he’s BIPOC, he grew up (in the boo chronicles ‘verse) in a home strongly steeped in community-first/collectivist culture but in a country that’s deeply exchange-oriented and individualistic. he’s surrounded by hyper-accomplished, amazing ppl, and he’s ‘just the jokes guy’ (this is a lie that only he believes). so he’s gotta do something if he wants ppl to want him to stick around, right? enter zuko: you are valued and loved not for what you can do for others, but for who you are. i want to see you blossom not for what you can do for me, but for what that growth means for you.

and then the lil corner of my brain that still contains knowledge from AP Bio started pinging. roots and plants make soil richer, it reminded me. sokka’s enough of a nerd to know this. i’d also recently seen a post about what the roots of plants like wheat/corn/carrots look like when they’ve been growing naturally for years on years, versus when they’re grown on farms for harvesting within a couple years. the difference is ridiculous, y’all. and thus: put down roots and grow like the shooting grasses of fields that do not know the darker acts of metal and men. let me grow in your earth, without being plucked or cut down too soon, and i could make you so much richer, s promises, because that’s the only way he’s ever thought he could build a lasting relationship of any kind.

z, however, reads this quote, and everything about s finally makes sense and also his heart breaks a little. he never lets go of this quote. he takes the phrase your body will be my earth, inks it between his own ribs, and elides i will make you rich because fck that sense of constantly needing to promise returns.

anyway. i was not expecting this line to be so resonant with people, but i’m very touched and humbled that it has, and this response is in part the reason that i’ve grown to be proud of it. it was born of narrative and trope-fulfilling functionality, and has blossomed into something more.

22. have you cried while writing a fic?

i have not, lmao. i don’t emotionally resonate with my own writing as strongly as with works created by other folks—i think i pour too much of my emotional energy into the actual writing, so by the end of the process, i’m all wrung out, lol. i guess for a few months after i finished Tell Me It’s a Sure Thing, i would forget how to breathe any time i re-read the ending.

thank you for the ask! (see all the Qs here 👀)

[nona-gay-simus-main]

How to Show Instead of Tell

One of the most commonly given advice is “show, don’t tell”, yet this is still one of the biggest problems in manuscripts I see by novice writers, and I think it’s because many people don’t understand what this means in practice. 

So, in this post, I will try to break down the most common ways people tell and how to fix it.

1. Telling Relationships and Personalities

A lot of fanfics start the way of My Immortal, with something along the lines 

“My name is so and so, I’m a senior in high school, these are my five personality traits and a three-paragraph description of my outfit. This is my best friend/love interest and here’s all the same information about them.”

I feel like everyone above the age of... fourteen understands that this is bad writing, but I still see a slightly more advanced version of this pop up in many people’s manuscripts. (Especially manuscripts told in first person for some reason?)

When you spoon-feed your audience this information, it feels like you’re breaking the fourth wall and you’ve paused to give us some backstory as the author. Because your character has no reason to be thinking about all this. 

And nobody believes you, because you're just telling us something, but haven’t portrayed that within the story.

For example: Let’s say you want to illustrate that your main character’s best friend is a flighty party girl, who is a little too nosy and is constantly trying to mess with the main character’s love life. 

Well, instead of saying, “This is my best friend Chris, she’s always coming from some party and trying to set me up on dates”, what you can do is have the best friend burst into the MC’s apartment with her spare key in yesterday’s cocktail dress and heels, and start rambling about how she lost her wallet in someone’s apartment last night, and she couldn’t get an Uber or take the subway, so thank god the MC lives in a walking distance from the party. Then after the MC lets the BFF use her shower, the BFF tells her about how she met this cool guy who would be perfect for the MC.

What you are showing in that scene: they are close because she has a key to the house and the MC shares her clothes with the BFF, she’s a flighty party girl because she goes to parties loses her stuff in other people’s houses, and she is constantly trying to set up the MC on dates. 

Or, let’s say you want to portray that a character has a tense relationship with her father, but is close to her mother. 

So maybe have a scene where she shares something personal with her mother and they laugh, but when her father enters the room, she gets tense, doesn’t want to tell him the story, and pretends it's nothing.

Think of it as, instead of giving the reader the information, you “put it in a scene.” The readers get all the same information, but it’s no longer spoon-fed to them, and instead, it’s illustrated. So this time, they actually believe you. 

2. Naming Emotions.

This one is pretty straight-forward. People tend to name emotions in the narrative. “He looked confused.” “His face showed anger.” “He eyes regarded her with admiration.”

Just... don’t do that.

Instead, try to show the emotion by describing the character’s body language. Or through their inner thoughts and sensation. Or through their dialog.

For example: Instead of “He was confused. What did she mean by that?” Try: “He frowned. What?”

Instead of “He was angry at whoever would hurt his sister like that.” Try, “His face darkened. “I will smash his head in, just say the word!”

3. Telling Through Dialog

Expositional dialog finds its way most of often in fantasy and sci-fi, but also pops up in contemporary and historical, especially if you have some kind of professional field or time period you need to set up. The “as you know, Bob” structure for conveying to the audience things that the characters would know, but the audience doesn’t. 

The best advice is to insert this only when it’s relevant to the plot, and talk about it in a way that feels natural, like two people in that situation would actually speak to each other about. 

Also, don’t go overboard with world-building. It’s pretty cool that you went through all this work to build your world, but the audience doesn’t need every little detail, especially not right away.

4. That Extra Step

The other thing I also see writers do is essentially the “show and tell” sandwich. You show something, but you can’t help yourself push it that extra step into telling.

For this I will use an example of my own writing (not because I’m the end-all-be-all of writers, just because I think it’s weird to use other people’s):

He’s lucky he gets a choice. We both live in the Burrows, but Nox is the only child of two abled parents. He can work for his own bread, he doesn’t have a brother in a wheelchair, or a single mother barely managing to make ends meet, and mountains of medical debt along with all his other debt.

Now, this paragraph SHOWS the main character bitterness and jealousy that her best friend is doing better than her financially and it's perfectly fine as is (it also has some telling, but I’ll go into why that’s okay into the next section).

But I could’ve written it as:

He’s lucky he gets a choice. We both live in the Burrows, but Nox is the only child of two abled parents. He can work for his own bread, he doesn’t have a brother in a wheelchair, or a single mother barely managing to make ends meet, and mountains of medical debt along with all his other debt. And I hated that he had it so easily, it made me jealous.

That last sentence? Going way overboard! 

Just trust your readers. Occasionally you’ll see readers who don’t get it, but they are usually outliers. Or just poor readers. That happens too.

5. When is it okay to tell?

Some details are okay to just... say. There’s no need to beat around the bush about every little thing. 

Unless you are writing fantasy or complex sci-fi, it’s fine to just say the character’s ethnicity, for instance. Don’t go overboard on the description - you can just use the word, that’s fine.

You can also just say your character is tall or short instead of having them constantly bump into door frames or reach for things.

You can also give background details of characters that don’t really affect the plot or story that much. Like in the previous example, I use telling to show Nox’s situation, because his parents' background doesn’t really affect much and my main goal with that paragraph was to show how Jules feels about it, rather than spend a lot of words on his family. 

Basically, all kinds of information that you don’t need or want to hit the character hard emotionally and is just for background, can be told. That said, don’t go overboard and describe every detail either, just summarize stuff for us.

Words are precious after all, and the more words you spend on something, the more important it seems.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 16

Title: Bruised, Not Broken

Warnings:  mental illness, memory and talk of near death experience, profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty​

“He’s struggling,” Esme says the following morning, as she leans stomach first against the kitchen island, cell phone pressed to her ear and an oversized mug of steaming tea staring invitingly up at her. “Badly.”

It’s eight thirty in the morning and she’s exhausted; a night full of broken sleep and attempting to fend off the monsters that accompany the reality of mental illness. It hadn’t been that bad in a long time; inconsolable, body wracking sobs that quickly transition into feelings of frustration and embarrassment, followed by a period of self loathing and disgust, finished off by intense rage directed at the mental illness itself and the people and experiences that directly caused it. It’s a hell of a thing to go through. Holding your six foot three, two hundred pound husband while he desperately clings to you and weeps like a terrified and wounded child. Able to do little more than offer verbal reassurance and attempt to comfort by running your fingers through his hair or rubbing his back. THAT isn’t the difficult part; the soothing comes easily and naturally and he normally responds quickly. Even the shame he feels afterwards is relatively easy to cope with. She can fend that off by staying calm and explaining why he doesn’t need to feel that way; somewhat convincing him that there’s no need for embarrassment just because he had a moment of vulnerability and weakness. Reminding him that he IS human; he’s allowed to feel hurt and pain and be frustrated and confused. But it’s the anger that takes over; all consuming and powerful and making it impossible to get through to him. She’d long ago learned that it’s best to just sit back and not say anything; let him rant and rave and vigorously pace the floor. Redirecting doesn’t work; he becomes defensive and accusatory and every little suggestion is taken as a personal attack or judgement. Silence IS golden when he goes off the deep end. Relegating herself to just listening and acknowledging what's happening to him and conveying understanding through body language and actions as opposed to words.

It always ends the same way. With pure physical and emotional exhaustion taking over. All the rage and tears expended and leaving him feeling empty and worn out; crawling back into bed and turning his back towards her in a silent request to just leave him alone. And she gives him that; a hand resting on the top of his head or upon his shoulder, yet no words ever exchanged. Staring up at the ceiling with tears of her own streaming down her face; a mixture of her own frustration and anger and pure and profound heartache. Not only hating to see the person she loves more than anything in the world hurting so badly, but detesting the fact she can’t do anything to take it all away.

“He always struggles at Christmas,” Ovi reminds her, and over the line she can hear the babbling of the littlest and the various voices belonging to characters on Sesame Street. It’s surreal at times; acknowledging just who he is now and how far he’s come. Easily remembering him as that scared and traumatized teenager and then having to remind herself that he’s a grown man; a wife and children of his own and well on his way to becoming a pediatrician.

“It’s different this year. It’s not just sadness. It’s frustration and it’s rage and it’s so much self loathing. I know we were told that this would happen; he’d go through these kinds of ups and downs. But he’s been doing so well and he’s been coping and hasn’t had a downward spiral like this in so long.”

“What is it he’s actually getting worked up over? What’s setting him off?”

“He’s been thinking a lot about Austin. He mentioned how it was bothering him how much Millie and TJ look like him. I mean, he’s always sad at Christmas. It’s always difficult for him. But it’s not like THIS.”

“Maybe he’s wondering what Austin would be like now. Or what he would have been like when he was Millie and TJ’s ages. And if he’s already down and out because of the holiday, adding that into the mix COULD make it worse.”

“It’s been years since he was THIS bad. You know how well he’s been doing. Everything’s been under control. He’s been managing it. Extremely well.”

“And he’s still going to therapy?”

“Religiously. By himself AND with me. And you know what a miracle THAT is. Him even agreeing to getting help in the first place.”

“Is he taking his meds? If he’s been off them or been skipping them…”

“I’ve checked. I went and counted them myself. There’s no extra. He’s been taking them. And I fucking hate that I even have to do that. Check up on him like that. He’s a grown man. He’s forty-seven years old and I’m treating him like he’s a child. I hate that I have to do that. I hate this whole fucking thing. This whole illness.”

“Unfortunately, he’s shown that he can’t be trusted. When it comes to meds. It’s a horrible thing to say, but…”

“This is just so unfair,” she laments, and lifts the mug of tea to her lips. “ That he’s suffering like this. He’s paid his dues, Ovi. And then some. Why does he have to KEEP paying? Wasn’t Dhaka enough? Wasn’t what happened twelve and half years ago a big enough price to pay? He doesn’t deserve this. This kind of pain. I’d rather see him physically struggling than this. Because at least I know that pain will subside. But this? I fucking hate this. And I can’t see Christmas being the only thing causing this. He’s never this bad.”

“How’d he seem when he got back? From Cambodia?”

“Tired. A little sore. But he seemed fine. He was glad to be home and in great spirits. He’s been...I don’t know...he’s been Tyler. Nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, it seemed like there was some underlying sadness, but I just chalked it up to it being Christmas and him always have a hard time.”

“Could something have happened while he was away? Could something have triggered it?”

“He didn’t tell me much. Just that the guys he took out were pretty much the biggest pieces of garbage he’s ever encountered. And that’s saying a lot; considering how many years he’s been doing the job and how many assholes he’s taken out. I guess they didn’t stop at just drug running and weapons trafficking. Apparently they abused women. And children. In the worst ways possible.”

“That could do it. Probably hit close to home. Hearing about someone taking advantage of kids like that.”

“He did seem rather vengeful about it. Satisfied, even. That he got the chance to take out people like that. And I don’t blame him; those people are scum and they deserve to put down in the most painful way possible. And he did say that it made him think about his kids. He kind of started dwelling on it; what would happen and how he’d react if anyone touched his kids like that.”

“That’s probably what did it,” Ovi concludes. “It’s probably been just eating away at him. It’s probably all he’s been thinking about; his own kids getting victimized like that. And you know Tyler. Once something is in his head, it lives there rent free. For a long time.”

“I try to get him to focus on other things; cut him off at the pass before he even gets down that rabbit hole. Usually it works; I can distract him and get him thinking about other things. And I thought it DID work. Guess I’m not as good at all of this as I think.”

“I think you need to cut yourself some slack. If anything, you do TOO much. You take too much on. You’ve got seven kids you’re taking care of. You’re dealing with Tyler’s issues. Are you taking care of yourself? Has anyone asked you how YOU’RE doing? Because that’s just as important.”

“I’m doing okay,” she lies, and swallows a mouthful of tea. “I’m fine.”

She feels anything but; weary to her bones and longing to be home. Six years ago, Australia had become her happy place; a beautiful home backing out onto the beach and the ocean in such short walking distance. There’s a bliss that comes with being there. The feel of the sand beneath your feet and between your toes, the sound of the waves as they roll up onto the shore, the smell of salt that hangs heavily in the air. It represents everything that is beautiful and good in her life; incredible little human beings she’d had a hand in making and a man that loves her more than anything in the world and practically worships the ground she walks on. Everyone seems happier there; content with the sunshine and the warm temperatures and the close relationship with nature. The pace of life seems slower; more laid back and relaxing and not possessing the amount of stress and tension that being in the States in the middle of winter seems to bring. And while she loves it in New York -the convenience that comes with a big city and the amount of activities to keep yourself busy that are available- she’d willingly give it all up if meant it would alleviate some of the suffering that Tyler’s mental illness brings upon him.

“You realize I know you’re lying, right?" Ovi says. "That I lived with you for years and I know exactly how you get; taking on the world’s problems and not paying attention to your own. You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep ignoring yourself because you’re so busy trying to solve everyone else’s issues. You can’t pour from an empty cup. You burn yourself out and you’ll be no good to anyone. Especially the kids.”

“I don’t have time to worry about myself. Or the energy. There are far more important things going on than what I’m going through.”

“So you’re NOT fine.”

“It’s stressful. It’s Christmas. I always get like this at Christmas. It’s all those ridiculous standards my mother put on us when we were young. Everything had to look and be perfect on the surface so no one really knew just how messy it all was underneath. I can’t get out of that; that line of thinking. And yes, I DO know that’s unhealthy, Doctor Mahajan.”

Ovi chuckles. “Let’s not go tossing that title around just yet. I’ve got a few more years to go. Especially when I’m going into a speciality.”

“Listen, if I want to call my kid a doctor, I will. I’m proud of you. I know how far you’ve come. Everything you’ve gone up against and battled through. I still remember fourteen year old you. Keeping you occupied in that factory; talking about movies and girls and school.”

“I still remember when you showed up. Wondering who the hell you were and thinking ‘how the hell is someone THAT small going to help us?’. Talk about not being able to judge a book by it’s cover. Tyler was right; it is the tiny ones you have to watch out for.”

Smiling, she takes a sip of tea and then perches herself on the edge of the counter. “Do you remember when we used to go into town and get ice cream? In Telluride? When you had your last period off in high school and you’d come home early and it would just be the two of us?”

“I LOVED that place. That was like a childhood dream come true! Walls of candy and thirty flavours of ice cream and these enormous banana splits and massive sundaes. Remember that time we shared that really huge hot fudge one? With the whipped cream and the peanuts on it? I think it was called the Beast or something like that.”

“The Behemoth,” she laughs. “I DO remember that. We sat outside and shared it. We even flipped a coin to see who got to eat the cherry that was on the top.”

“I am still mad at you for winning that. I really wanted that cherry. Those are some of my best memories, you know. The things we’d do together. When Tyler was away and Millie and the twins were at school. We used to have some fun. I used to love when we went bowling. And we’d eat french fries soaked in vinegar.”

“And those really horrible hamburgers. With the flat patties. And no taste. That seems so long ago. You were what? Eighteen? If that?”

“Just turned seventeen. And that IS a long time ago. I AM twenty seven now.”

“And you have your own wife and your own kids. And you’re a doctor.”

“Not yet,” he laughs. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Let’s not pretend it won’t happen. We both know it will. And I am; proud of you. So proud. You have come so far, Ovi. To do as well as you have after everything you went through. You would have had every right to have issues.”

“I had two people that loved me and believed in me. That made me realize I could do whatever I wanted. BE who I wanted. If I hadn’t had you guys? I wouldn’t be where I am now. I probably would have followed in his footsteps. I would have felt obligated to. Scared and pressured into it. And it would have just kept that whole vicious and toxic cycle going.”

“I know we weren’t perfect. I know Tyler and I went through some shit that you had to listen to and witness. But all we’ve ever wanted is the best for you. For you to realize how amazing you are. How much potential you have. And all we wanted to do was give you a good life. Even if at the time we didn’t have the money you once had and sometimes it seemed we didn’t have much to offer you. All we wanted was to give you a family.”

“You did. And it never mattered what you could and couldn’t give me. Materialistically speaking. All that mattered was that you loved me. And I felt that. I ALWAYS felt that.”

“It’s strange, huh? How something so crazy and scary brought us together? How complete strangers can become family? It’s surreal.”

“It wasn’t the most conventional of meetings, but it certainly turned out pretty amazing. You know what I remember the most? About back then? When we did meet? I remember being on that bridge with you. And how you refused to separate from me. You said you wouldn’t leave me. And you didn’t. Even I was slowing you down, you never abandoned me. And you didn't treat me like you were doing a job or I was some kind of package. There was no money, but you still stuck by me.”

“We were in it together. I wasn’t going to sacrifice you to save myself. That’s just not who I am. I wasn’t going to leave you. In the same way I wasn’t going to leave Tyler there. There was no way I was doing that; taking off and leaving him there to die. I couldn’t live with myself if I did. My conscience couldn’t handle it. And selfishly, I wanted him alive. I wanted to get to know him and be with him.”

“Hell of a way to profess your love for someone. Willingly sacrifice your life to try and save them. Stick your fingers in their neck to keep them alive. Nothing says ‘I love you’ quite like that.”

“It was quite the ordeal,” Esme agrees, and finishes off the remains of her tea. “You know, sometimes it feels like just yesterday. Other times it feels like forty years. But if I close my eyes and I try hard enough, I can actually remember what it felt like to be there. How scared I actually was. I can hear the gunshots and the explosions and my own heart pounding in my chest. I can even still smell things; blood and gasoline and gunpowder.”

“I believe that’s something referred to as PTSD.”

“Listen buddy, you’re trying to become a pediatrician, NOT a shrink. Don’t go psychoanalyzing me.”

“I’m just saying maybe it’s time you worked on what’s going on in YOUR head. Instead of worrying so much about what’s going on in Tyler’s. I know you love him. I know you’d do anything for him. You go hard core Mother Hen when he gets like this. And I know you can’t help it and I know he appreciates everything you do for him. But you know what else I know? I know he doesn’t expect you to forget about yourself while constantly taking care of him. He’s a grown man. And he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.”

“It’s easier said than done. I can’t just let him fend for himself. I can’t just let him spiral out of control and do nothing more than hope for the best. He’s my husband. The father of my kids. And it kills me to see him like this. To know he’s in so much pain. To hear him talk about himself like he does.”

“When he gets like this, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Or saying. He just lashes out. He doesn’t mean it when he says he wishes he had died five years ago. Or twelve and a half years ago. That’s just his brain telling him this shit. Do you think he’s in crisis? Do you think he’d hurt himself? Try something stupid?”

“No. I don’t think he WANTS to die. I think he just wants this over. The pain he’s in. He just wants it to stop.”

“He’s going through a depressive stage. It’s to be expected. I mean, it sucks it’s happening right now. At Christmas. What’s he doing right now?”

“Sleeping.” She looks out towards the living room; Tyler fast asleep on the couch, on his stomach with the comforter from TJ’s bed tossed over him and an arm and a leg dangling over the side. The night hadn’t gotten any better after he’d fallen asleep. Tossing and turning and having nightmares; finally coming downstairs to take up residence on the sofa and give her the chance to get a peaceful, undisturbed rest. But she hadn’t been able to. Too worried about him and wanting nothing more than to go downstairs and join him on the couch, yet knowing his current mood, her actions wouldn’t be well received. “He’s on the couch right now. It was a rough night. Nightmares.”

“About?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Which means they were about Dhaka. Most likely about the bridge. He’ll talk to me about Nathan, but not about the bridge. He avoids that like the plague. More for me than for him.”

“Have you called his therapist? Told him what’s going on? Maybe he has some suggestions; things that can alleviate some of the anxiety and the panic. Help him sleep better.”

“If it gets worse, I’ll call. This could have been a one off. It might have just been a delayed reaction to being away.”

“If it wasn’t and he DOES get any worse? Call. Don’t hesitate. Or take him to the emergency. Or call me and I’ll take him.”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that. He’s resting now. Which is a good sign. Last time he went into a depressive state, he didn’t sleep for a week. I’ll give it a couple days. At least get past Christmas. Once it’s over, he might perk up.”

“Don’t hesitate to call me. If he gets worse or you sense he’s spiralling out of control. I’ll be there. As soon as I can.”

“You have your own life. Riya and the kids. I can’t…”

“That’s my dad. I want to help. LET me help. It’s the least I can do. I’ve to go for now though; promised Mykayla we’d go see Santa in Central Park. She has some last minute gift ideas to drop in his lap.”

“Give her and Tabbi a kiss from Grandma Me. Tell them I love them. Riya too. I love you, Ovi. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ll give them tons and hugs and kisses from you,” he promises. “And I love you too, mom.”

****

She’s sitting in the sunroom when he wakes an hour later; listening to him shuffle through the living room and into the guest bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. Minutes later he’s heading towards her; yawning noisily and his eyes heavy lidded. And she glances up from the laptop resting upon her thighs when he pads into the room; clad in a pair of tattered and faded plaid pyjama bottoms and no shirt. And she can’t help but think about how adorable he looks; a giant of man boasting his fair share of tattoos and scars, his hair mussed from sleep and a sporting pout of both sleepiness and annoyance.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” she cheerfully greets, and tilts her head back to smile at him. “How you feeling?”

“Alright I guess.” He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and then rakes his fingers through his hair. “Can you stand up for a second?”

She cocks her head to the side, a quizzical look on her face.

He manages a small smile, then runs a gentle palm over her hair and adds, “Please?”

Obliging, she places the laptop on the seat cushion next to her and then joins him at the side of the couch; immediately gathered into his embrace and pulled tightly into his chest. And she climbs onto the top of his feet and perches on her tiptoes in order for her arms to reach their final destination; wrapped tightly around his neck. For several minutes neither of them speak; eyes closed and their warm bodies pressed together, a forearm holding her in place and a palm cradling the back of her head. He feels so good; his body hard and strong and never failing to make her feel safe. It’s never been a worry of hers; whether or not he’d be able to defend her if someone hell bent on revenge was determined to hurt his family. And she rests easy at night knowing what he’s capable of and that he’d do whatever it takes -even giving up his own life if need be- to protect her.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he gently tugs on the short, soft tresses, forcing her to pull back and look at him. She hates what she sees in his eyes; that darkness that betrays just how lost and confused and scared he actually is. A man that always has always been so strong and so fearless; fighting other peoples battles while refusing to address his own. And it breaks her heart. Knowing that the things he’s capable of -the fierceness and the tenacity and the sheer brutality he’s reined down on people- are some of the many reasons he’s now feeling so weak and vulnerable. So good at the job, yet suffering so badly because of it.

“I’m sorry,” his voice quivers with emotion. “I am so fucking sorry.”

She reaches up to push limp bangs away from his forehead. Trying desperately to keep her own fears and worries from betraying her. He doesn’t need that right now; her coming undone and weeping in HIS arms. It’s time for her to be the strong one; holding him up and supporting him and never making him feel like a burden. “For what? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“The way I acted. Going off the deep end like I did. I hate that you have to see that. Hear the shit I say. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

“Tyler, you’re sick. It's a legitimate illness. And you know what? You’ve had an amazing five years. Barely any depressive or manic episodes. Things have been pretty stable and pretty smooth sailing. But we were told this could happen. That you could crash like you did. It’s just part of it. And you can’t help it. You don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re saying and…”

“I DO know what I’m doing. And what I’m saying. I’m not blacking out when it happens. I know exactly what’s going on when it’s happening.”

“It doesn’t mean you have control over it. Because you DON’T. It’s your brain. And when things go haywire, you can’t stop the things you do and the things you say. And you’re not to blame for that. You can’t control what is going on. And I know that’s what scares you the most; the loss of control.”

“I just hate that you have to be there. When it happens. That you have to see that shit and hear the things that come out of my mouth. I hate that it hurts you. That I hurt you.”

“You don’t hurt me. I hurt for you. That’s two entirely different things. You have nothing to be sorry for. And I know things were great and it seemed like it was completely under control. But baby, this is going to happen. Whether we want it to or not. We can’t stop it. It’s just the nature of the beast, unfortunately.”

“If I’d died five years ago...twelve and a half years ago…”

“Listen to me,” she pleads and takes his face in her hands. “DON’T go there. That is a very dark place and if you go there, you may never get back out. You are here for a reason. You’re here because you deserve to be. Because there’s people that love you. That NEED you. You helped me make seven beautiful little humans. None of them would exist if you weren’t here. Isn’t that enough? Knowing they’re alive because you are?”

“Of course it’s enough. But they shouldn’t have to live with this. YOU shouldn’t have to.”

“You are not the burden you think you are. It’s an illness. You can’t help what’s going on and you didn't do anything to cause it. It’s not your fault. Your brain didn’t do this to you because of something you did. It’s so many things. And you know what? It sucks. Huge. And I hate that this is happening to you. I hate that you are at war with your own mind every second of every goddamn day. But I won’t let you talk like that. I won’t let you say that you should have died. I won’t let you completely discount the life that you have now. Because I didn’t stick around on that fucking bridge and put my ass on the line so you could turn around and totally disregard that you were given a second chance for a reason.”

“I never asked you to stay. On that bridge. I never…”

“I stayed because you deserved to live. Because you’d paid your dues and you got your absolution. And you know what? Maybe part of it was selfish. Because I knew we could have something amazing if you stopped hating yourself long enough to let me love you. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say you really wanted to die that day? That you would go back and change that if you could? Even knowing you wouldn’t have what you have now. Someone that loves you more than they love themselves. Seven kids that think the sun rises and sets on you. Would you really go back and change everything? Would you really choose to die?”

“No,” he blinks back the tears that threaten to escape. “I wouldn’t. I would choose you. And my kids. Every day.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m sorry you’re hurting as much as you are. And I would give anything to take that all away and make you healthy. But you are not broken and I won’t let you destroy what you have. I won’t let your brain destroy YOU.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. Take care of me like this. Do you know what this is like? How fucking embarrassing it is? That you have to take care of ME?”

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m your wife. I’m the mother of your kids. I have you seen at your absolute worst. I’ve seen you inches from death. This? This is nothing compared to some of the things I’ve seen and heard. You should never be embarrassed around me. I’m not going to judge you. And it's okay to be weak. To have vulnerable moments. You’re a goddamn human being.”

“I hate it. Being like that. Being weak.”

“Because you were told that it makes you less of a man. You had that drilled into your head from the time you were a little boy. And you know what? Nothing could be further from the truth. It takes a strong man to break down and admit they need help. You are the strongest person I have ever known. You do battle every second of every day with your own mind. And you always keep going. THAT’S brave.”

“I don’t feel it. I feel weak and pathetic and…”

“You are not any of those things. Look at everything you’ve been through. From the time you were a little boy until now. A weaker man would have given up a long time ago. But you? You fight back and you never give up and get back on your feet time and time again. That is strength, Tyler. The fact you suffer like you do but you get up every day and you smile when all you want to do is cry and you love your family with everything you have and bust your ass to make them happy even though you feel like you’re drowning. THAT? That is so far from being weak and pathetic.”

Sighing heavily, he glances away; swallowing noisily around the lump of emotion that sits squarely in his throat.

Pressing her fingers into his cheek, she turns his face back towards her. “I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And I fell in love with you knowing how messed up things were and what kind of torment and pain you were carrying. None of that matters to me. Because I know who you are outside of all of that. I know that you’re loving and you’re caring and you have a heart that’s even bigger than your body. I know how deep and powerfully you love DESPITE everything you’ve been through. I didn’t back away then, and I’m sure as hell not backing away now. So you can try as hard as you want to push me away, but you’re stuck with me, buddy.”

“That’s not so bad,” he chides through threatening tears. “I mean, I can think of way worse fates.”

“I will love you and take care of you until your last breath. And you know what? I’ll love you even after that.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“That’s your brain trying to convince you of that. And I know its voice is deafening and it seems impossible to ignore it, but you’ve got to try and shut it out. Concentrate on what I’m saying to you. Because what I’m telling you? It’s the truth. I’d never lie to you. So you need to pay attention to me, okay? And the things I say. I am way stronger and more tenacious than that voice inside of your head. Can you do that? Listen to me? Because I would never….ever...steer you wrong. You know that, right?”

“I do. I do know that. And I trust you. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t trust my own brain anymore.”

“Then just rely on mine. Rely on ME. To give you the truth. Can you do that?”

“I can do that. Or try, at least.”

“That’s all I’m asking for. Now…” she lays her hands on his chest and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “...you hungry? What do you want for breakfast? I know I’m not actually the top chef YOU are, but I do make a mean veggie omelette. And you do like my french toast.”

“I thought maybe we could go out. To that little diner a few blocks over. The one that makes those Belgian waffles you like so much.”

“With the strawberries and the homemade whipped cream? I definitely could go for that. Are you sure though? That you’re up to it? It was a pretty rough night and…”

“I’m fine. Or I will be. It’s sunny out. The fresh air would do me some good I think. And we only have so much time without the kids left and I really do like our alone time. Outside of the bedroom.”

“So you don’t like the alone time in the bedroom?” she teases.

“I never said that. I LOVE that time.”

“A breakfast date with my favourite human sounds perfect.” Reaching up, she combs her fingers through his hair, pushing the longer strands off his forehead. “I’m proud of you, you know that? How hard you fight. A lesser man would have given up a long time ago.”

“I’ve got way too much to live for. Besides, I can’t go offing myself and then have to bear witness to you dating another guy. Or worse, marrying one.”

“Never going to happen. You’re it for me. There won’t be anyone after you. You’re stuck with me until the bitter end, Mister.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he takes her face in his hands and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Hell of a way to go if you ask me.”

*****

“I talked to Ovi earlier,” Esme says, as they sit in the back corner of the diner. Sipping steaming mugs of tea; joined hands resting on the table top; fingers laced together and his thumb repeatedly brushing against hers.

The booth is a safe distance away from the main hub of activity; crowds of people and excessive noise caused by the rattle of dishes and numerous conversations and boisterous laughter taking place at the same time. It’s important to avoid any and all triggers, or to at least find ways to lessen the effects of something that could bring on ‘an episode’. On the short walk she’d noticed the tell tale signs that depression isn’t the only concern; the hyper-vigilance associated with his PTSD quickly creeping in. Exhibiting anxiety if he felt pedestrians were crowding around him on sidewalks or when waiting to cross the street. Glaring at anyone he felt was staring at him or in somehow posing even the slightest bit of a threat towards her; jaw clenching as he tightly brought her into his side or put a hand on the back of her neck while drawing him in front of her. And the glances cast over his shoulder; eyes constantly scanning for anything and everything that could be considered suspicious or threatening, visibly tensing at every slam of a car door.

It’s both disheartening and worrisome; to see him regressing back to old behaviours after years of coping so well. Being off the street has helped; his shoulders not as tense, jaw no longer clenched, eyes not surveying the crowd with so much apprehension and simmering anger. But he still insists on being the one to sit facing the door; able to physically handle a threat if one came in their direction. And while she knows those chances are rare and his brain is far from thinking rationally, she doesn’t argue or try to change his mind; squeezing his arm and giving him a reassuring smile before switching seats.

Tyler doesn’t look up from the menu open in front of him. “About me?”

“Yes,” she admits, and refuses to allow him to pull his hand away from hers. “I told him what happened last night. About how you’re struggling.”

“Why? Why would you tell him? He’s got his own shit to deal with. He doesn’t need to hear about what’s going on with me.”

“I told him because he loves you. Because you’re his dad. And he worries about you. We both do.”

“He’s got his own life. His own wife, his own kids. Don’t bother him with that bullshit.”

“You and your issues are NOT bullshit. And you’re part of his life. You have been since he was fourteen years old. We took him in and we raised him and we gave him a family. And he loves you. He has every right to know what’s going on with you. And you know what? I have the right to have someone I can turn to. When I’m struggling.”

“I don’t mean to be such a burden on you. Make you struggle so much.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. I need someone I trust to help me, help you. And honestly, I need someone I can talk to. About all of this. Because it kills me inside that you’re struggling and you’re in so much pain. And I don’t want to put that on you, Tyler. Can you just accept that you’re surrounded by people who love you? That we’re trying to help? Let us love you, okay?”

Sighing, he nods in agreement. “Okay.”

“We’re just worried about you. We just want to help you.”

“I’ll be fine in a couple days. Once Christmas is over. I’ll act like everything is okay around the kids. So it doesn’t ruin things for them. I just need the holiday over with. I’ll be okay once it is.”

“I’m sure you will.” She hopes she sounds more confident than she feels. “It’s always a hard time. The holidays. And you know, seeing the kids so happy Christmas morning will help too. You know how cute that is; how excited they are, their faces all lit up when they see all the presents. It’s kind of hard NOT to smile when you see all of that. So that gives you something to look forward to, right?”

“You know what I’m NOT looking forward to? How many times they wake us up between midnight and five am.”

“It felt like every half hour last year.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been up until two in the morning putting together that stupid dollhouse we got for Addie and Brooklyn. Having to decorate every damn room and put out all those little forks and knives and plates and shit.”

“You were a pro. I was quite impressed how those huge hands of yours dealt with teeny tiny cutlery. And I have to say, you have quite the eye when it comes to interior design. Maybe you should be in charge of picking out decor for the house from here on out.”

“That’s not the deal. You pick shit out and I live with it. Or you tell me what needs to be painted and what colour you want and I do it. Or I carry heavy shit. I’m happy with that; our arrangement. What else did he say? Ovi?”

“He said that Tabbi is up on her feet and starting to cruise the furniture. Finally sleeping through the night. Remember those days? The relief that comes with THAT?”

“We didn’t really get to experience that until Takota and Brookie started sleeping through the night. They’re last so we didn’t have any babies after them to worry about. The rest of them?”

“One started sleeping through the night, another baby was born. We were pretty busy those first seven years.”

“You know, you could have always said ‘no’ a few times. You didn’t always have to put out every time I asked you to.”

“Are you kidding? And miss out on the fun? You can’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.”

He grins. “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“And Mykayla starts preschool next week. Can you believe that? Our first grand baby is going to be in preschool! It seems like she was just born. Kind of hard to believe, don’t you think?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact I have two grandkids.”

“For what it’s worth, I think we’re pretty sexy grandparents. You’re a damn fine grandpa.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“I don’t care. You ARE a grandpa. You ARE grandpa Tyler.”

“Makes me feel so fucking old. Way older than I actually am.”

“Well for what it’s worth, you’re the hottest grandpa around. I’d still do ya.”

“Yeah? Well I definitely wouldn’t say no to you. You’re kinda hot yourself. For a grandma.”

“What about when I’m the grandma who can barely see or hear and my hair is snow white and my body a total dumpster fire?”

“You’ll still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me.”

Smiling, she squeezes his hand and then smiles at the waitress who returns to refill his coffee and take their orders. For several minutes they sit in silence; his thumb sliding down to the base of her wrist and continuing its slow and methodical caress, eyes flicking back and forth as they constantly survey the surroundings and their fellow diners. She’s seen that look before; cautious and wary, as if expecting a threat to announce its presence any second. And it’s a side that she hasn’t seen in years; since extensive therapy began to help control the hyper-vigilance and paranoia.

“Hey…” she taps the toe of a boot against his shin in order to grab his attention. “...you okay?”

“Yeah,” he manages a smile; that half assed turning up of one corner of his mouth. “I’m good.”

“Really? Because you’re acting like an armed robber is going to come barging and start shooting up the place. Do you want to get our order to go? Eat at home? Where you’re more comfortable?”

“I’m comfortable here. I’m fine, Me. Honest.”

“You are NOT fine. You are far from fine. I haven’t seen you like this in a long time. I’m safe, Tyler. Nothing is going to happen. I’m with you. Which means nothing or no one can hurt me. I trust you. I know you can protect me if you have to. I am one hundred percent safe because I am with YOU.”

“What if I can’t? Protect you?”

“You can. You’ve always been able to. Nothing’s changed. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m here with you and everything is right in the world. Just try and relax, okay?”

“I’m not who I was back then. When we met.”

“I don’t expect you to be. And you know what? You’re better than you were. You’re stronger and you’re healthier and I trust you one hundred percent. There’s nothing you can’t handle. Nothing you can’t beat. Everything is fine. I’M fine. You need to just try and relax, alright? Nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I’m with you.”

The tension slightly lifts; the stiffness in his shoulders easing and the frantic bouncing of his leg finally stopping. But she notices the way his hand shakes when he lifts when he lifts the coffee mug to his lips.

“Do you want to go? Do you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack?”

“No. I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Here…” reaching into her purse, she briefly rummages through it and pulls out a small vial of pills she’s grabbed from the stash in the lock box in the pantry; snapping off the lid and dropping two in her palm. “...just a couple. It’ll take the edge of. Calm you down. Take them. Please.”

He obliges, plucking the tablets from her palm and placing them under his tongue and allowing them to resolve. The silence that follows is nerve wracking. Feeling her own heart pounding wildly in her chest as she watches him from across the booth; an elbow resting on the table , eyes closed and his palm pressed against his forehead. And she’s unsure how much time has actually passed when he takes a sharp intake of breath; eyes opening and his forearm coming to rest on the formica.

“Good?” she asks, and softly runs her fingers over his. “You alright?”

“Better.”

“You’ll be okay. In a few minutes, you’ll be right as rain. You’re doing good, baby. I’m proud of you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch as he attempts a smile. “I was thinking that maybe we should go home. Earlier than we were going to. Maybe a couple days into New Years instead of a couple weeks.”

“Is that what you want to do? Go home?”

“Yeah…” he struggles to hold back a flood of tears; uttering a string of profanities and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be embarrassed. Just pretend that no one else exists but me. That no one else is here. Just listen to my voice. You’re fine. It’s just your brain, Tyler. Ignore what it is telling you and pay attention to what I’m saying. I’m okay. I’m safe. Because I’m with you. Nothing is going to happen. There’s no one following us, there’s no out to get you, there’s no one that’s going to hurt me. There’s no threat. Everything is okay. Alright?”

Nodding, he takes a deep intake of breath and then releases it slow. “I want to go home.”

“Home as in our place here or…?”

“Home, home. Australia. I want to go home. As soon as we can. I NEED to go home.”

“I’ll change our flight plans. When we get back to the townhouse. I’ll call and set everything up. We’ll leave on the second, okay?”

“But the kids might be pissed. They might…”

“I’ll think of something to tell them. They don’t need to know what’s going on. Don’t worry about that, alright? I’ll take care of everything. I mean, if you really wanted to, we could leave earlier. Ovi knows you’re struggling and…”

“I can’t miss his wedding. I’m the best man. That’s my kid.”

“And he’d understand. If you needed to get out, he would totally have your back. Believe me, he wouldn’t hold it against you if you couldn’t handle it here.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll suck it up and I’ll get through it. We’ll go to the wedding and we’ll have a good time and we’ll have our mommy and daddy only night. Then we can leave. On the second.”

“Okay,” Esme says, and reaches across the table to wipe away an errant tear that slips down his face. “You’re going to be okay.” she promises. “You always are. You’ve fought back against way worse.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

Smiling, she pushes her fingers through his. “Enough for both of us.”