#just meaningless self improvement that never has an end point

[baphomimi]

i think ive convinced myself that i was supposed to die when i was 20 and no one bothered to plan any more content past that point

[noira-l]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: You are falling into darkness and meaninglessness. Satoru refuses to let you do that.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of comfort, after 'premature death', after suguru deflection, describtion od depression, apathy, lost meaning in life, slight eating disorder, sleeplesness.

author's note: We finally get to see his softer side, though as is his fashion, he does it in his own way.

4 months after Suguru defected

"I know that the situation that happened has left its mark on you, however, you must not give up like this."

Yaga had been trying to reach you in his office for several minutes. To no avail. Your gaze was still blank, staring at a single point on his desk since you sat down, it didn't seem like you were present in any way.

Silence. You didn't answer anything. Just as you always do.

This is not your first meeting with your Sensei. Yaga has been trying to make his way to you for about a month.

A void in your head, so great and black that it swallowed you whole. Your body indifferent to every sense that reached you, you did not analyse it at all. If Satoru hadn't dragged you here, literally holding your hand and leading you, you wouldn't have come here at all. You didn't have the will or the strength for it.

Everything stopped at that moment. It ended. There was nothing left. Anything important and beautiful in your life was taken away from you by the terrible malice of fate. Your house burnt down. Your beloved had descended into madness. You no longer had anything to care about. Your entire past no longer mattered. Everyone is literally dead.

Even you died that day.

You wondered what was still alive.

Or at least that's how you explained it to yourself, unable to accept that the same person who promised you the world had just taken it away from you.

You were lifeless. It didn't take much to conclude that.

All that remained was a fragile, frail and empty shell of a person once filled with love, dreams and passion.

You no longer had the strength to cry, or to utter any words. If it wasn't for Shoko, you wouldn't even eat, and if it wasn't for Gojo, you probably wouldn't sleep.

You could smile altogether now. The world of jujutsu never broke you, the person you loved did. But you didn't, even though it crossed your mind.

What an honour to be the exception to the rule.

Yaga sighed leaning against his expensive chair.

"(Y/N)." he called out, though you didn't even flinch "I don't want you to end up like this. As your teacher, I recognises your self-doubt as his personal failure. The situation that has befallen you is a very difficult one and I understand that you would need time to get things back to normal."

He leaned towards you "However, in this world we live in, we cannot afford such a luxury." you knew his eyes were drilling into you.

"It has been more than four months. Your condition is not improving, only getting worse. At your request, I have specifically let you skip part of your training." you heard him grinding his teeth, but not out of anger, but out of helplessness "I'm doing my best not to send you on missions in this condition, because I know that even if something attacks you-" he paused.

-you won't even try to defend yourself.’ you finished for him in your head.

He was right, you knew it, and so did anyone who would just look at you. You lost a lot of weight, your skin turned pale got a shade of gray, and your eyes lacked their former spark.

You could see that Yaga, in that silence, couldn't find the right words. When he opened his mouth to say something, you finally muttered, pausing his speetch.

"But Sensei, you should…" you raised your gaze from the one point where it was cumulative to look the man deep in the eyes

"..let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway."

★ --

Yaga sat in his office, surrounded by a silence that seemed to deepen his worries. Outside the window, the rain drummed against the glass as if to wash the weight of anxiety from his soul, but it only deepened his sense of helplessness.

Your words, haunted him.

‘Let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway' constantly echoed in his mind, like a silent cry of despair that gave him no peace.

Never before had he seen such emptiness in someone's eyes - an emptiness that testified that all hope, all will to fight, had been sucked out of you.

He was incapable of seeing Geto Suguru roll into a similar spiral.

It was a failure that has pursued Yaga, reminding him of the fragility of the human mind.

You are reminder of that too.

Now he saw the same symptoms in your - empty eyes, unresponsive to sensory input, avoiding contact with others.

Every day when you came to training was like seeing a ghost moving among the living, unable to fully return to life. You was physically there, but you soul seemed to be elsewhere, trapped in a place you couldn't get out of.

In this state, Yaga knew he had to seek advice from others.

He must act. He will not make this mistake again.

You will not be a case to regret.

And he had a lot of them.

He was the first to go to Shoko. He met her in the corridor, as busy as ever with her work, locked in a world where medicine was everything.

"Shoko, have you tried to talk to her? Something about her condition?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. Shoko sighed, not stopping for a moment.

"I'm not good at such conversations." she replied briefly, looking at him fleetingly, as if those words would explain everything. Yaga knew that Shoko was doing as well as she could, but he also knew, that she was avoiding emotion like a fire. She couldn't help you in this battle that was going on inside. She was only capable of healing you on the outside.

The next stop was Nanami. Always serious, always composed, Nanami was someone who could be counted on in the most difficult of times. However, when Yaga asked him the same question, the answer was equally overwhelming.

"I understand what she is going through. I've tried to reach out to her, but… she's silent. I don't know how I can help her when she won't talk.’" there was a note of helplessness in Nanami's voice that had never been there before. Yaga knew that he sympathised with you, that he had tried, but that he himself could not break through this invisible barrier you had built around yourself.

Last was Satoru, always the enigmatic one, always full of contrasts. Yaga found him in one of the training rooms as he watched the younger students' classes.

"Satoru, did you talk to her?" he asked, knowing that Gojo was someone who could see more than others.

"I don't talk. I just sit by her when she's awake. That's all I can do." replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Yaga felt a mixture of relief and sadness upon hearing these words. Satoru, in his typical style, had found a way to be beside you, but even he, with all his unlimited potential, could not pull you out of your state.

★ --

3 weeks after Suguru defected

Gojo was initially not supposed to get so involved.

He kept repeating to himself that he wasn't good at such things, that he didn't know how to talk about such topics, couldn't find a solution for you or show you something he should.

Your storm you showed him that day left a mark in him. It awakened something in him. He couldn't deny it. He just kept living in the belief, that he wasn't capable of doing anything about it. He didn't feel that there was anything in him that he could offer to help you. He never knew what to say, he never knew what to do. He felt hopeless about it. Satoru was not the kind of person who makes the same mistakes twice or never learns from them.

He blamed himself for Suguru's departure. He felt that his corruption was his fault. His lack of attention, his lack of interest, his powerlessness - his failure to adapt to such situations.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, that was the reason he was born. It was what he was made for.

He was not made to come into contact with the problems of humanity, he was always above others, he never touched such topics. And now here you are. In front of him. You are showing him this.

You bring him closer to this subject, you prove to him that he, despite his title, is still human.

He feels exactly what you feel.

You are proof that the feelings he has inside him - make him human.

What ultimately made him abandon the idea of leaving the subject to himself was the sight of you. Soaking wet for long moments on the training field.

He saw you from a distance, as he walked with Shoko to class. He separated from her to letting her go ahead, saying he would catch up with her. The rain was dark and heavy. he didn't need an umbrella, so he walked throught it like was nothing. A white beam of light, walking throught the dark.

The sight of you, sitting on the training field with a bamboo sword, completely soaked - stuck in his mind. It was an image that spoke more than a thousand words. You were physically there, but spiritually you seemed to be far away, in a place where no words could reach you. Satoru, though usually full of energy and humour, this time simply walked up to you and without a word took your hand, pulling you out of the rain. You didn't even defy him as the force lifted your body and made you float slightly above the ground.

He sat you down in his room, giving you a towel to dry you off. Gojo left for a while, leaving you covered in towels and a warm blanket.

He quickly teleported to the kitchen, to brew a mug of warm tea for you. He waited patiently for the kettle to boil the water, tapping his fingers against the kitchen counter in thoughtfulness. He thought about bringing Shoko to you, as you might have caught a cold. Suguru had mentioned that you catch such colds quite easily.

As he moved back, he set his mug down on his notebook-cluttered desk and looked at you. You stood at the window, watching the rain that had kept the world quiet all day today.

"Why the rain?" he asked, trying to strike up a conversation. You did not answer immediately, still staring at the raindrops reflecting on the window.

After a moment, you raised your gaze, looking at him with a blank stare. "Because the rain is clean. It washes everything away. Maybe if I stood there long enough, it would wash me away too." Satoru felt his heart squeeze with pain at those words, but he didn't allow himself to have any emotional outbursts.

You sat like this for a long time, he beside you, looking out at the rain. In the silence that surrounded, he could feel how devastated you were, how much you had lost the will to live. He knew that these feelings would not disappear overnight. He was aware of that.

So from that moment on, Satoru implemented a plan that seemed strange and effective, exactly his style.

★ --

1 month after Suguru defected

The first month was a time of anticipation and patience for Satoru.

When he first entered your room, he felt the dense atmosphere almost overwhelm him. The quiet, enclosed room seemed as if trapped in time. You were sitting on the bed, your back turned to the door, shoulders tense. It was clear that your thoughts were far away.

Satoru closed the door behind him, then took a seat against the wall, far away from you, right next to the door. He sat down on the floor, pulled his gameboy out of his pocket and began to play, pretending it was a normal everyday situation.

At first you did not even look at him. Your gaze remained fixed on one point, as if you were trying to find a meaning in it that you could not find anywhere else. Satoru, however, was not bothered by this silence. He concentrated on the game, allowing you to get used to his presence while giving you space. Managing the space was his special skill.

Every day he would spend a few dozen minutes in your room, sometimes playing, sometimes bringing something to eat with him. Often he would sit there with a meal in his hand, eating slowly, and the sounds of munching were the only sounds in the room. He never tried to get you to talk, knowing that your personal space was crucial at that moment.

★ --

2 months after Suguru defected

The second month brought slight changes. Satoru, feeling that your reactions to his presence had become more bearable, decided to get closer.

Instead of sitting on the floor by the door, he took a seat in the chair by your desk, which stood slightly closer to the bed. When he entered the room, you looked at him - that was a success! Noticing change in his behaviour, but you took a quick glance at him, so he couldn't be happier. He passed you a small smile, that was a welcoming greeting.

Satoru stretched out comfortably in a chair, pulled out a book and began to read. Occasionally he would reach for his headphones to turn on some music for himself, shutting himself off from the world but still being there, at arm's length, if you need him.

There were days when he couldn't concentrate on reading, so he would just sit, watching you out of the corner of his eye. As time went on, he began to notice that you would sometimes glance at him, as if trying to understand why he came here almost everyday that was free for him, even though you didn't exchange a word with each other. Even when he was busy, your room was the first stop when he came back from any mission.

★ --

3 months after Suguru defected

In the third month, Satoru felt he could risk the next step.

When he walked into your room one day, instead of sitting in a chair, he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He felt your body tighten as soon as he sat down, but you didn't move away or ask him to leave. This was the sign he had been waiting for.

He pulled out his gameboy, fired up the game and started playing, sitting next to you. For a while, the silence was almost overwhelming, but as time passed, the atmosphere began to relax. Satoru noticed that although you still didn't speak, your presence had become somewhat more conscious.

He started bringing you food when Shoko couldn't. He felt that when he brought you something, you were more eager to glance at it. And you even took a bite of the sweet roll he left with you one day.

There were also moments when you started to move, as if you wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. Satoru did not push. He felt that these small gestures were a sign of progress.

★ --

4 months after Suguru defected

In the last month of this silent coexistence, Satoru decided to go all in.

When he entered your room, he didn't stop at the door or the chair. He immediately headed for the bed and lay down beside you without a word. He felt you body stiffen at first, but after a while you relaxed, accepting his presence. This was so strange, but so.. welcoming.

Both of you lay side by side, arms barely touching, but it was enough.

Satoru pulled out his mp3 player, turned on quiet music and placed it between you two, letting the soft sounds fill the silence. He watched the ceiling, occasionally glancing up to look at your face. The sight of it, now devoid of such deep pain as it had been in the beginning, made him relieved. He knew that your emotional state was still fragile, but he was sure that his presence was helping you in some way. You were helping him too, he just couldn't say that to you.

His presence in your room become such a small tradition, which he often looked forward to. Besides your dorm was a good escape for him, when he was looking for, there was never any thought that he could be at your place.

One day, as both you lay like this, you gently turned towards him and looked at him with a slightly softer expression on your tired face. You didn't need to say anything - your gaze said more than words.

Satoru smiled slightly at you, then closed his eyes, feeling that you had reached a state of understanding that was only possible through months of patience and perseverance.

He was content, that he could see your eyes weren't so empty or full of tears. That was a breakthrought, that he was so eager to welcome.

★ --

4 and a half months after Suguru defected

Satoru has not visited you for a week.

You knew he was back from a mission, because Shoko bringing you food mentioned it. She also said that it had been a long and exhausting one, on which they had sent him alone, with no support from even specialists.

It was already very late in the night, you had been waiting for him for a long time, and yet he had not come.

For the first time since moths, you got out of bed by yourself.

You poked your head out, to see if the light in his room was on, it still was. You were overwhelmed by a strange feeling, that you could not quite describe. You wondered what the reason was for breaking this little tradition you shared between the two of you.

You came to the conclusion, that he probably needed the space himself and was just using it. Although this seemed to you to be completely unsuitable for a person you came to know. Should you do something about this fact? You nervously bit your nail.

What if he now needs the same treatment that he used to give you? What if he just needs to be alone?

A conflict arose in your mind. You didn't know what to do, how to behave. You felt a little stressed as you slowly sat back down on the bed.

What should you do?

Your decision was made, when your foot visited the kitchens for the first time in months to brew a tea for him.

All you could hear in the quiet corridor was the soft creaking of the floor, as you approached the door of his room. The wooden gates were slightly open, as if Gojo didn't have the strength to close them fully. You carefully pushed it open with your hand, peering inside.

Satoru was lying on the bed, with his arms spread, as if the weight of the world was crushing him to the mattress. His white hair, always so perfectly styled, were a mess. Fortunately, he had managed to change into his pyjamas. There was an expression of extreme fatigue on his face, but when he heard quiet footsteps, he lifted his eyelids.

Your gazes met. You gently closed the door behind you, then stepped deeper into the room, setting your mug of warm drink down on the desk. Just as he had done this to you one time. Your limbs tremble slightly from the cold. Going to the kitchen in just your pyjamas and flip-flops at this time of year was a stupid idea.

You didn't exchange a word with each other. You blandly started playing with the sleeve of your nightshirt. You didn't need words to understand how tired he was, the slight bags under his eyes and messy look told you all you needed to know.

He changed positions on the bed, moving more towards the wall, grabbed a corner of the duvet and lifted it up. He made an inviting gesture with his head and his slightly glowing eyes went out.

You sat on the edge of the bed first. Feeling a little on unfamiliar ground. You had only been in his room a couple of times. The main place for you to hang out as a group was Suguru's room. Immediately you felt the warmth emanating from the sheets.

With a slow movement you lay down next to him, letting the warmth of the duvet and his scent greet you. The mattress bent slightly under you weight, as you turned to face him. You could feel how soft and molded his mattress was, how his pillow was pleasantly arranged. Your body slowly began to warm, heat waves spreading through your body, soothing your mind and dulling your senses. The air around you was warm, enveloping, and his presence added a strange sense of security that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You could feel your body relaxing more and more with each breath. You could hear the calm rhythm of his breathing, which worked on like a lullaby. You were so warm, not only physically, but also internally, as if this place, this moment, was exactly where you were supposed to be.

You slowly closed your eyes, feeling sleep begin to embrace you with it's softness. The thoughts that had been swirling around in your head just moments before, began to quiet down, giving a way to a blissful emptiness. The warmth of his body and regular breathing were like an focus points that, allowed you to pull your head away from your worries and sink into a peaceful sleep.

Finally, you allowed yourself to fully surrender to the moment. You fell asleep, with his hand still gently resting on your waist, in a place that seemed the safest in the world.

★ --

Satoru slowly opened his eyes, feeling the soft rays of the sun on his face. For a while he lay still, savoring the quiet of the morning and the warmth that beat from the body, cuddled into his. You were sleeping peacefully, your breathing was steady and deep, and face expressed the kind of calm he hadn't seen in you in a long time. He smiled slightly, pleased that you could finally truly rest.

He didn't want to wake you, but he knew the day was calling him. He shifted cautiously, reaching for the phone that lay on the bedside table. For a moment, he pondered how to play it, but quickly decided that the only person he could ask to do it - was Shoko.

you: "Take care of everything today? Thanks. >ᴗ<"

7:43 am

Sent a message, not waiting for a respond, he put the phone aside, before turning back to you.

He glanced at your face once more. You looked so peaceful, as if for a moment you had forgotten everything that had overwhelmed you for months.

Gojo gently ran his fingers through your hair, trying not to wake you up. He smiled, seeing how you moved slightly in his arms, as if you instinctively knew he was there.

He was so proud of himself, the sight of your sincere rest soothed his heart somehow. Thanks to him, you were finally able to rest. He felt satisfaction and contentment at the thought. He finally didn't feel so helpless and powerless. He felt that he had just done something, that at least one person, by some screwed up luck, had managed to be saved by him.

With a slight sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into sleep again. He knew that he didn't have to rush anywhere, that this was a day they could spend relaxing, even if he had responsibilities and pressures on him, at this point he totally didn't give a damn. He fell asleep quickly, holding you close to him, enjoying the moment of comfort you brought to him as well.

You two slept all day, cuddled up to each other in warm cozy embrace.

With the peace and quiet you finally rested, as you both deserved.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl (open): @kalopsia-flaneur

[katyspersonal]

Finally deleted all of his music tracks from my devices. Surprised that there were so many.. and frustrated that one of them I helped to edit and three of them exist only thanks to me, too.

When we first split it was because I wasn't able to take all the abuse, belittling and neglect anymore. He was trying his hardest to convince me that I needed him and my life would be ruined if I left him, but when I was unyielding and stood on the ground that even that would be better than taking it any longer, the mask finally cracked and he begged me to not go admitting it was his life that'd be meaningless without me.. I still left him, because I could tell he hated me as a person but convinced himself that no one else would "tolerate and accept" him. If I had a nickel for every time I became too close with this kind of man I'd have two nickels blablabla

I still sorta watched from the shadows through a shared friend. I hate forcing my friends to cut ties with my abusers if they seek help and try to improve.. and he did. Past the point he escaped his own abusive house (we talk 'his own brother tried to kill him and his mom never cared and blamed him' level), he started to learn and improve, and more importantly, found new friends! It is crucial that this sort of people has a network of people that can scold them instead of latching on the first person with 0 self-respect! I could see the improvement, and a lot of that was owed to that shared friend.

But what really held me was his music. Regardless of everything he said and did in the past, there was unmistakable sincerity in his music. I was always thinking, "a bad person could not write this". There was a person with very keen and tender feelings in it, the one ruined and led astray by bad events and people. I think that no matter how much this wretched world corrupts people, the person they were meant to be had the living not been so cursed can yet live in their creativity.

I returned in the end, after a long time. And things were better, really. This time, though, he was the one to throw me away like trash over a really dumb conflict he started. Despite everything, I still haven't learned to stay away from kind of people that separates people between 'people' and 'NPCs'. I just... let them single me out as 'special'. And let myself get attached even though it should be obvious that this special treatment only lasts until I meet these expectations. That the "I like how you always have your opinion and can disagree" is only until I disagree on their terms. That "I want you to be honest, no matter how ugly the truth is" is only until that ugly truth is the part of their twisted self-image as a tragic, self-vindicating figure. And the worst part is that while me and him were apart, I was in close proximity with a shockingly similar person. They basically were like twins.

I don't know where I was going with this vent. But I can't forgive just being thrown away after so many promises of helping. It now feels like he never wanted to be friends again after all, but just felt in debt and needed to "compensate" to me to be a good person. So as soon as like, one moment made me "a woke NPC" I was no longer entitled to compassion. I should stay away from people that sees "us or them", but at the same time people who don't do that are lazy pacifist fence-sitters with no ideals... who are the right people to stick with, then? At the very least, I no longer care about his music, or feel any sentimental value to anything he's done now.

[hotaru-morii]

A special Christmas gift

A/N - @hiraizens 's white Christmas collab! Thank you for hosting this, I haven't written anything in forever and this motivated me to write again!

Pairing - Dazai x gender neutral reader

Warning(s) - marriage? Ik some people aren't down for that but idk if it needs a warning

Throughout most of Dazai’s life, he has spent Christmas alone. For, he lived a mostly lonely life. He didn't even understand the point of Christmas, thought it was a pointless holiday. Spending time with your "romantic lover" I'm the freezing cold weather just seemed meaningless to him, as he never actually pursued a serious relationship with anyone to begin with. Sure, he had a couple of hook ups, and flirted with women to get what he wanted from them. 

He never even thought he'd end up in a romantic relationship with you. When he discovered that he had feelings for you while staring you down in the ADA office, he thought his feelings would eventually fade away, and that it was nothing serious, and that maybe he just wanted a couple of dates… but how wrong he was… he realized the more dates you guys went on, the more he actually wanted to start something serious with you. 

Now here he is, in a serious relationship with you. It's been about ten months since you two have started dating. This was his first serious relationship with someone. At the beginning, Dazai couldn't help but avoid eye contact with you, or push his hair back while you two were talking. Which was a foreign concept for Dazai, because with anyone else, he never had these bad habits. However, things started to slowly change, and while he might still have some of these bad habits, and definitely still has a lot of room for improvement, but your relationship with him has gotten better. 

You've spent seven years in a relationship with him, so it had to improve over the past few years right? Not only did your relationship with him improve, but Dazai's relationship with himself improved as long with it.

At the beginning, he couldn't help but not allow himself to be happy due to the intense guilt he felt deep down inside of him. Unfortunately, that self hate and guilt caused some serious problems in your relationship. Like how he sometimes would ghost you whenever he started feeling like the happiness he felt whenever he was with you, was something he didn't deserve. 

Thankfully, that did stop happening with time, but you couldn't help but feel awful whenever he'd suddenly disappear and not answer your calls or texts while he was gone. And rightfully so! You deserved some answers from him. Of course you understood that he needed alone time because not everyone liked venting their problems to others, and you respected that throughout your entire relationship. But you at least deserved an answer when he would leave for weeks, and once he even left for months… 

Of course you didn't just forgive him for his actions, you respected yourself more than that to just let him constantly ghost you and then come crawling back to your front door whenever he felt like it. But he did eventually apologize, made it up to you, and actually showed that he was sorry through his actions. He still doesn't tell you everything that happened in his childhood, and why he has so much trauma, but he told you the surface level details, and that was enough for you. 

And seven years later after all the rocky parts of your relationship, you can safely say that you're genuinely happy in the relationship you've been in for so many years. 

And he was too. After Oda's death the nightmares he had each day increased, and he'd spend more hours in the bar, drinking until it was the illegal limit. 

But he didn't have to come home to tons of alcoholic drinks after work anymore, and drink his depression away. He'd come home to you, and that changed him in many ways.

When he turned to look at you, you had your head held up high, looking towards the sky. Your gloved hands held out, trying to catch the snowflakes falling from the sky. 

You always loved the Christmas spirit, enjoying the Christmas decorations all around you, and most of all, being able to celebrate the holiday with the man you loved so much. 

You smiled widely when you finally caught a snowflake in your hands. "Osamu look! Isn't it pretty?" 

"I think f/n is cuter!" Dazai smirked, and you couldn't help but pout and blush faintly at his cheesey comment. You heard Dazai chuckle, and you immediately hid your face into his chest. 

"Osamu…" You mumbled. The snowflake in your hands dropped to the floor. 

Dazai placed a single hand on the to of your head, and the other was wrapped around your body, and smiled at the gesture. Dazai always smiles, but he rarely ever shows anyone a genuine smile.

He only ever smiles to hide his true feelings, and to hide who he really was on the inside. But with you, he could smile, and truly mean it. He didn't need to hide himself. Although he did hide himself from you during the beginning of the relationship, he slowly unmasked himself. He didn't need to put on his clown act anymore. 

"Hey," he begins. Capturing your attention. 

"What?" You asked back with a pout. 

"I got something for you." He digs into his pocket for a moment, but then stops. 

"But we already exchanged gifts this morning." You reminded him. Ignoring his sudden stop in movement. 

"Ah, yeah but I got something else for you." Dazai awkwardly smiles. It was much different from any other smile you've seen from him. Has he ever smiled like this before? You couldn't help but wonder… 

"You got me a second gift?" You asked. 

"Yeah! I just love my belladonna so much I just had to buy her a second gift!" Dazai chuckled. But you couldn't help but tilt your head in slight confusion. 

"Look f/n," He begins. "I… love you a lot, so I wanted to give you this." He grabbed out a small red box from his coat, and handed it to you. 

You take the box from his hand, and open it. 

When you saw what was inside the box, your eyes widened immediately. 

Dazai then got down on one knee, and held his hand out to you. 

"F/N, after seven years of being with you, I realized that I want you in my life forever…" He paused, and you felt your lips beginning to tremble. 

"Will you marry me?" He asked. 

Your eyes began to water at his question, and your slightly trembling lips turned into a smile. You wiped the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes more rapidly, and gave him an answer to his question. "Yes!" You told him with enthusiasm. 

Dazai's expression softened. He got up from his knees and embraced you, and you embraced him back. The tears from earlier are now overflowing, but you had a wide smile on your face. 

Neither of you said anything to each other, but Dazai knew that deep down, he's happy with the decision he made. Even though for most of his life he told himself that settling down with someone and getting married wasn't for him. 

But at this very moment, he couldn't help but smile genuinely, and feel a warmth inside of him that made him know that he made the right decision. 

"Osamu!" You were still hugging him, but you looked up right at him. "I'm really happy that you asked me to marry you!" 

Dazai chuckled. "I am too." He then gave you a light kiss on your lips, causing you to blush lightly.

"Hey, let's go home there's something I wanna do with my fiance." He winked at you, only making your light blush even heavier. 

"Osamu…" You mumbled his name, but that only made him feel even cockier. 

"I know you're excited, darling." 

And perhaps you were, and you were excited to go home with your now fiance, but you wouldn't admit to him. But you would always be happy to admit that you married the man who was known as a suicidal maniac. The feeling of being ashamed to have married him would never occur to you… 

[diversityequityinclusion-caucus]

Ungrading Philosophy of Science (1)

As a student, receiving graded papers back in my coursework was always an extremely anxiety-inducing experience. This was especially bad with teachers who insisted on returning hard copies of student work at the end of class or in student mailboxes. My strategy was always to run away as far as I could from the classroom and my peers before looking at the graded work. I needed to be alone before I could see my evaluation.

For me, a lot of feelings were associated with getting graded work back. None of which were positive. If the grade was not what I hoped for, feelings of shame flooded in the moment my eyes gazed upon the letter grade or score. I’m not proud to admit this, but when I was a younger student grades impacted my sense of self-worth in profound ways. Earning a grade that was lower than I had hoped for could plunge me into a deep depression for weeks – or at least until I was able to perform well on the next assignment.

I would say things were different – not better – in cases where I earned a grade that I had hoped for. In these cases, feelings of relief flowed in. But not just relief. Almost immediately following relief were feelings that discounted my work. “Sure I had earned an A, but I’m certain everyone else had too.” So, while earning a “bad” grade was bad for my self-esteem, earning “good” grades wasn’t great for it either. I think underlying these feelings are an implicit, immediate tendency to compare myself to my peers in the class, in the program, in the profession.

As a teacher, I observe even more things from my students when they receive graded work from me. Even though I return all graded assignments electronically, I continue to see many of the same anxieties in my students. But this isn’t all. To my dismay, I observe students only concerning themselves with the grade they earn on the assignment. I frequently notice that my students hardly pay attention to the ample and meaningful feedback I provide them on their written work. This has at least two unsavory consequences. First, students have no clue why they earned the grade they did. In really bad scenarios, students finish their courses with me thinking that evaluation of philosophical work is capricious and meaningless. Second, students do not learn from one assignment to the next. Because they never look at my feedback, they do not get a sense of what my expectations are. So, they miss out on opportunities to improve.

These are reasons that motivated me to adopt the practice of ungrading in my philosophy of science courses. If you listen to the gurus of ungrading in YouTube videos, you will hear things like “grading is ultimately arbitrary” and “teachers often give grades based on gut intuition and not on objective criteria.” I dislike these reasons for adopting ungrading. I think good teachers design their assignments in ways to avoid these problems. What attracted me to this approach instead was the potential to decouple student self-esteem from evaluation of work and to increase student reflection on the feedback they receive.

To me, ungrading has involved the removal of letter grades and point scores from all assignments in a class. Since I work for an institution that requires I give students letter grades at the end of the semester, letter grades have to be introduced at some point. However, my method has been to eliminate letter grades and point scores from each assignment and to introduce letter grades at a few checkpoints throughout the semester. The additional dimension to this practice is the Reflection Paper I have students do at checkpoints in the semester. The Reflection Paper asks the students to summarize the feedback they’ve received on their major writing assignments and to formulate an argument for why they have earned a specific letter grade. If I agree with their argument, they are given the grade they propose. I have a policy for what to do if I don’t agree with the student’s argument. If I feel the student has proposed a lower grade than what they deserve, I will give them the higher grade. If I feel the student has proposed a higher grade than what they deserve, I ask to meet with the student. During this meeting we go over the standards for the course and the student’s Reflection Paper. We try to arrive at a letter grade that we agree upon. There may be cases where agreement is not reached. However, my policy is that I will not give a student a lower grade without meeting with them first.

Implementing ungrading involved a lot of labor before the semester began. There was a lot of tweaking to do in the syllabus, writing assignments, class policies, and blackboard set-up. Shifting the class from letter grades/point scores is a subtle, but substantial change. It took a lot of my time to decide how I wanted to spell out the ungrading policy and the alternative evaluation system I would use. So far, the most frustrating part of implementing this new approach has been dealing with Blackboard. Blackboard is not designed to support this method of evaluation. It requires grades be associated with each assignment. I had to find creative workarounds to get Blackboard to comply – and even now I’m not fully satisfied.  

I can say that grading has become a more pleasant and efficient task. I don’t have to spend a lot of time agonizing over whether a mistake is worth a 3- or 5-point deduction. Instead, I can focus on the qualitative comments that are relevant to the expectations of the assignment. I should add that while I do not give letter or point scores on assignments anymore, I do give students an overall assessment to let them know if they have met expectations, are progressing, or are in danger.

I haven’t finished the semester yet, so I don’t know how I will feel about this approach ultimately. So far, the feedback I’ve gotten from students is that they appreciate not being constantly measured down to the very last 1/4th of a point. I will receive some feedback soon as my class is about to do their first Reflection Paper. I have a lot more to say on how I am managing different aspects of the class. For now, I’ll leave those topics for another day.

Janella Baxter

Fall 2023

[lionheartslowstart]

Drama

-

Edit: My mother has pointed out to me that it isn't drama I'm addicted to, but rather, conflict. Still, conflict can lead to drama, especially when blown out of proportion, so I suppose the end result is the same.

-

Real growth can't happen if we're not honest with ourselves.

I talk a lot about learning self-awareness, and how important it is to always be growing, and to try and be a better version of yourself every day. If I'm going to talk the talk, I also better be walking the walk, right?

Well, just a few days ago, I realized something pretty embarrassing about myself.

I'm addicted to drama.

For those close to me, this did not come as a surprise. But for me, it was. I knew I enjoyed the occasional confrontation here and there, but "addicted?" That's a pretty strong word. Still, if I'm being honest with myself, there's a thrill I get from stirring the pot. And while I definitely wouldn't say I conjure conflict out of thin air for shits and gigs, I will definitely take the smallest slight, whether to me or a loved one, and just fucking run wild with it.

As challenging as it was for me to acknowledge this, recognizing your own toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms is so important if you want to keep improving. And I do. But awareness of the behaviors alone is not what leads to real and meaningful growth. Ultimately, you have to ask yourself WHY.

So I did, and I surprised myself because I knew the answer almost immediately.

I have so much pent up rage and pain from everything I've been through, and being petty, getting involved in meaningless conflicts, gives me an outlet to not only exercise my anger, but to weaponize it against people whom I believe to "deserve" it.

Moreover, I have this really irritating obsession with "winning." But not just "winning." Oh no, the other person or people have to KNOW I "won." Which of course is incredibly stupid. Why is it not enough for ME to know I "won?" Better yet, why do I have to "win" at all? Even if I know deep down that the real way to "win" is by just walking away, I still can't let it go. It has to be undeniable that I CRUSHED my enemy. That they got the verbal and/or emotional pummeling they deserved. They can't walk away with any impression that they got the best of me. Ever.

I view petty conflicts as a means of expressing all of my pent up anger, and then leaving those interactions feeling superior in some way. If you boil it down to the barest bones, I'm essentially reliving my life-long trauma, but I get to win every time. And it feels good. Which is not good.

The fact is, the only person I'm really hurting is myself. I'm giving bullies, losers, and instigators exactly what they want: a reaction, and attention. So am I even really "winning" at all? Like I said, I know the answer is to walk away. I do. But I can't bring myself to do it. I can't live with the idea that someone thinks they beat me, even if I know that they haven't. Like I said, THEY have to know that they haven't.

Worse still, I don't think this is something I'm ready to change. As I said, I'm only hurting myself by doing this. I never start things out of thin air, or for no reason. I only get involved with people who get involved with me first. But most of the time, these are silly things that I should probably just let roll off my back, or pathetic people I should just be laughing at. Instead, I fire back twice as hard and dig my heels in, even though that's usually exactly what the other person wants. As for my loved ones, while I do often get involved on their behalf, I have always respected when someone tells me not to. I would never want to disrespect my friends' requests or boundaries. So even though it's not great that I'm not ready to work on this yet, at least I'm the only one who is negatively affected by it.

Obviously, that's not the end goal. I want to want to work on this. I want to continue being the best version of myself I can be. But in the meantime, at least I now can see the toxic behavior and understand where it comes from and why I do it. As I continue to reflect and grow over time, I'm certain I will get to the place where I'm ready to address the issue head on and find healthier ways to deal with my feelings surrounding this specific pattern. That is how it has been for me with toxic coping mechanisms in the past. I discover them, I acknowledge them, I accept them, and then eventually, I'm ready to change them out for healthier, more productive coping mechanisms.

One of my best friends once told me that I always need to have the biggest dick in the room. Funny? Yes. True? Yes. Toxic? Definitely.

[deerydear]

I keep coming back to this essay.

It has a second part, and I recommend reading through that, entirely.

“If you want to look thin, you hang out with fat people.” — Thornton Melon

Are you afraid you might be a coward? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend to feel brave. Are you afraid that your life is meaningless? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend your life has purpose. Are you afraid you’re mired in mediocrity? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend to feel exceptional. Are you worried that you won’t be able to forget that you’re just pretending and that all those good feelings will thus seem hollow and empty? Join us and we will pretend it’s true for you if you will pretend it’s true for us. We need each other.

You can’t be doing well if it seems like an improvement to base your life and your sense of self on a demonizing slander that you know is only a fantasy. To challenge that fantasy, to identify it as nothing more than that, is to threaten to send them back to whatever their lives were like before they latched onto this desperate alternative.

That suggests to me that if we are to have any hope of disabusing them of their fantasies, then we will need to recommend some third alternative, something other than the lie or the reality that had seemed even worse.

I see this as such a wonderful dissection and laying-out of a part of the human psyche that I am all-so-much familiar with.

Now, my part: "Let (s)he who has not sinned cast the first stone!"

wait..... um.

..... the eyes were 'sposed to be INSIDE the cairn, like this illustration of Hermes I once saw in a book. It looks too balanced that I don't want to add anymore to it.

Everyone throws a damn stone, because they don't understand, yet.

They don't get that by even pretending to be better than these people, they're enacting the same psychological complex. It's fractalized, infinite.

It'll repeat forever, if you want it to...

You'll always end up being someone else's bad guy, if you do.

"Oh, but it's worth it, to be the bad guy to Evil.... isn't that just like being the good guy? I'm the enemy of evil!"

Yeah, that's what every schmuck in line is telling themselves. Every single link in the chain believes that, and yet the next one believes the link ahead of it is evil.

It's deeper than that, man...

Not to say that the origin of the chain is necessarily a good guy!

In the article, the example of animal abusers sticks out as an origin-point. I think...... I think....

Again, I whole-heartedly agree that kitten-burning is really, really bad. But the leap from “that’s bad” to “I’m not that bad” is dangerous and corrosive.

I just see this all over tumblr, with a bunch of people pretending they're special and important because they aren't.... bad. You want a fucking medal?

Even me complaining about that, is in action just another link in the chain. That's what I mean. Fancy words for nothing. Pffff!

Instead of comparing downwards, why don't you compare upwards? You should find people who genuinely inspire you to become better at something.

That's where the whole lazy concept of the "oppressed middle-class white american" comes into play. "Oh boo hoo. I feel bad, I don't want to do anything because it makes me feel.... um, in danger."

In the world, the only two states of life are growth, or atrophy.

Either you are putting yourself into challenges, and learning from everything.... or else you will wither into a husk and nothing will save you, unless you save yourself. The curse is made by your own hand.

When a crustacean needs to molt, he slides out of his hard shell, revealing the soft, gooey creature. If it stays inside its shell, then it will never be able to get bigger. The softness of its skin is necessary to be able to pump up to a bigger size, before its hard shell grows back. The same path that can lead to so much potential pain, is also the only road to growth.

You never know, if you never try.... except in my case, where I knew, and I tried against my best instinct.

(but hey, through this process, I figured out many things I wanted to figure out... The only thing I ponder is that I may have figured them out without making the exact same choices that I did.)

Just like there are chains of misery... There are chains of love and inspiration.

"This inspired me to do something. This person made me feel loved. This was interesting. I love this!"

I think, even further... the entire world is filtered through your mind, and what you pick out of the sifted sand says a great deal about your process.

I believe, in my case, I was always aware of this.... but I thought "being negative" was cooler.

I had to see the actions I had put forth come into fruit... to realize those aren't seeds I want planted.

I'm reading the Bhagavad Gita.

[theblognobodyfoundlastyear]

More of the same: It's all a car crash in slow motion

You know things are bad when the largest highlight of the week is buying iced tea. Which is to say, everything that has led up to this point has been, at least to some extent, meaningless. Spending years of one's teenage years looking for part-time work? Studying hard to land that elusive grade? Heck, even spending hours upon hours trying to perfect your financial workflow. All of it - all for nothing.

Of course, your natural instinct would be to thin that I'm overly pessimistic or grasping too hard onto the hopes and joys of yesteryear. I'm of the view that people who seem to "enjoy" that 30's are just putting on some kind of facade to mask the hollow lives they live. It may not always be the case, but I've yet to be explicitly disproved much of time. Yet, even in times of idleness, we would choose to wallow in our homes, desperately finding some errand or small chore to do without having to invest into a proper hobby? It's as though your 20's are your prime years not only in terms of peak physical, emotional and mental stability but also for refining the inner character.

Is that the goal then, to make a mad scramble to chisel the soul as much as one can possibly achieve before the proverbial concrete settles in and hope that the output looks at least half-decent? There would be an equal probability of things looking even worse than the initial block of marble, which from a loss aversion perspective might be the better choice to do nothing. At the same time, the same conversation would be had years later, wondering why things are the way that they are, only to remember that it was because nothing was done. One can't also help to think that this is a more systemic problem, that this experience is but a small pebble in the grander scheme of things. To which the natural justification could lead into "I don't have to do anything because other people are just as content at living their mildly miserable lives" and "I blame the system for all of my problems and why things don't seem to be getting any better", essentially scapegoating the system itself for one's lack of life-changing progress.

So is the plan to get out there and experience as much as possible, knowing full well the futility of such an endeavour? One line of thinking is that if the life has truly been a fulfilling one, you wouldn't be in this mess trying to make one's life count for something, as the condition would already have been met. And even if such a lofty goal were to be pursued, is life just a never-ending thrill-seeking adventure for the next big dopamine hit? I'd like to think this is not a pursuit for happiness or purpose per se, rather to understand more about one's own character as well as the limitations, optimisations and edge cases one is geared up for.

How would one measure the development of the self and internal personality? As with anything as intangible as this, you'd have to rely very much on gut feelings and instinct to tell you whether or not things really are changing for the better. If it turns out nothing happened, then nothing of value was lost and everything turned out the way that you feared anyway, so there's nothing to be surprised about. But if things did improve, what now? I suppose the natural instinct would be to keep building up that body, in the metaphorical sense. Keep chiseling the marble, for you can consider yourself one of the elect who have the privilege of watching their lives shift according to one's will and determination.

And for those who aren't as lucky? Perhaps it just requires some more time to figure out how this whole "developing your personality in your 20's" actually works, and stay up all night to get lucky. But how do you know you'd even make progress in the right direction? After all, we certainly don't need anymore extremists, lawless gangs and madmen. Without any hard measure for progress, this could be a very real possibility.

So the proposition is to "make the most" of your 20's, running the risk of not making any progress or even becoming worse off in the meantime? The pessimist would be quick to say that things are always going to go south, it's just the degree and magnitude of south-ness that one can control. To that end, may as well take the lesser of the two evils. This also goes to imply a stage of life in things get far worse than they already are, potentially going towards the extent of having quite literally no free time anymore, or having to pursue things that previously were governed by choice now undertaken by sheer obligation with no obvious gain. I suppose one can delay that stage for as long as possible, for even the people in that boat desperately want out. Or at least the ones I'm aware of.

Because at the end of it all, a life worthy of the calling we have received is not only one that was enjoyed but also one that served a true purpose. Obligation, as powerful of a motivator it might appear to be, is only the surface of life.

'Til next time, young padawan.

To be fair, nothing is as simple as it was in that other time and place. Which is why we should extract that essence and propagate it into the future for others to enjoy.

[tsumikoz]

hi I feel like rambling ignore me if u want

[sunnomnoms]

Can i request up for a Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma with a younger sibling!reader who's also clever as them however reader doesn't use their 100% braincells most of the time unless it's necessary?

If that's a bit difficult to write for, it's alright! You can do just a Younger Sibling!Reader general headcanons if you like

Oooooo I love writing silly little guys don’t you even worry. I may have self projected a tad bit on the reader because <3 me too <3 also I hope I interpreted this right? sorry if not! I focused a lot on how this affects sorta your relationship with them, so sorry if it’s short </3

Warning: slight angst, mentions of family tension, etc etc.

-

Considering you aren’t always on your A-game, people like to chat about and talk about you due to your well renowned family- and they don’t always say the nicest of things, unfortunately.

Miles, at all points in time, looks to defend you against peoples (very incorrect) idea that you got the short end of the stick when it comes to cleverness. In his own words, “You aren’t stupid, you’re just too intelligent to waste intellectual energy on any and all meaningless meandering.” It’s his nice way of referring to you as low-energy.

Franziska is a special sort. She will always look to challenge you and your deductions on any sort of case, looking to exploit your low energy to prove a point. While she doesn’t do it out of true malice, it can sometimes feel kinda bad too. Franziska considers herself cut from a very different cloth- she herself is unable to pick her battles, and instead feels she must pick them all. It doesn’t always work out for her in the long run.

That being said, it must be noted that Franziska doesn’t dislike you in any sort of way- quite the opposite. She has a bit of tunnel vision on how people should be in a court of law, and she worries others will exploit your low energy like she does in your meaningless little squabbling back at forth. In a way, it’s her way of challenging you to try and teach you. Unlike Miles, I don’t she quite understands that you’re picking your battles on purpose to conserve energy. She’s being supportive in the way she knows how, but it doesn’t always land. It can just feel like a mean big sister taking jabs at you sometimes, and it doesn’t even always help “improve” your critical thinking or anything- sometimes it just wounds your ego.

Miles, while worrying for you, always has faith in your ability. during the trials you were his aid in court, he willingly swats away the defenses attempts at dissecting your every word to catch you in an inconsistency so that you can focus and get to the major point. Miles always has faith due to what he calls your “gotcha” moment- the final and usually fatal blow you make to a defense’s argument that is iron clad. Miles revels in the discomfort of the defense and the court as they are completely unable to argue against your final claims, as he feels it must be something that heals your spirit after what the ignorant public say about you. He’s fine with taking the risk of you leading yourself to your main point- he’s taken much worse risks than letting you build your case as you speak. He even finds it a little fun- it’s suspenseful watching you go from the seemingly ditzy court aid to a big dog in the ring as the trial goes on.

Franziska on the other hand doesn’t quite like to risk it. She’s a very “I don’t need help, I never need help” type, so she doesn’t usually have an aid in court anyway. But in the rare cases that she takes your help, she still expects to do most of the “heavy lifting” per se. It isn’t that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she absolutely does not trust the defense to not exploit you into accidentally destroying the case you and her spent so long working on. Franziska doesn’t like to take risks, it stresses her out. she worries about you possibly never reaching a final major conclusion in court and accidentally making a fool of yourself.

While Miles heavily believes in your ability and treats you as an equal to him, You’re still the baby sibling in Franziska‘a heart- and her need to be overprotective of you never quite faded away. It causes family tension, most certainly, but things are always tense around here it feels like…

At the end of the day, Miles is a more understanding figure, as he has a bit of a need for understand things from the inside out before making his mind about them emotionally. Despite his cold nature, Miles understands your low energy and even has a limit of his own when it comes to energy towards certain scenarios. He understands you aren’t a candle that can be lit at both ends without major consequences, and he doesn’t see the issue with that. Despite it all, he’s aware you know what’s best for yourself- and knows that you wouldn’t allow yourself or anyone to be caught up in a situation that can be easily dismantled so long as you put your energy towards it. He will always be in your corner, and will always be ready to scold the cruel press for their awful interpretation of you.

Franziska is a more complicated sort, with a need for guaranteed consistency and absolutely no room for doubt. Franziska worries more than she’ll ever let in, she’s nearly riddled with anxiety if things aren’t in their perfect place- which is why she finds your demeanor so stress-inducing as she worries she can never properly count on it catching you or her if either of you tumble in court. It isn’t healthy, and she absolutely should believe in you more, but the anxiety eats her up inside. Even when she needs you most and you’re able to keep her case grounded in court when she can’t, the crippling anxiety she feels causes her to unfortunately be dismissive of it- which is absolutely painful. She doesn’t give your grand showings of your intellect the credit they deserve when she absolutely should, still too worried about the mistakes you may make rather than the victories. She couldn’t handle the possibility of you getting hurt to a point you give up your aspirations within the court of law due to a simple mistake in your judgement. so she looks to shield you at any point in time- despite it ultimately causing a rift and a feeling that she thinks you’re unable to handle yourself.

Ultimately speaking, Franziska needs therapy- and needs to take a page out of your book. She has this idea she needs to create and be perfection, but it isn’t humanly possible, and shouldn’t be expected of her or you. She’s due for some development, and due to give you an apology for how she’s treated you due to her own anxiety. She’s been burning the candle at both ends herself, always putting 110% she didn’t have into all she does. Franziska loves you, but her skewed view on how things should be are what cause her hurtful behaviors towards you. she doesn’t want to hurt you, she aches at the idea- she just is hard on you as others were on her because she doesn’t want you hurting like she did growing up. Be patient, she’ll soon come to realize you don’t need to be “fixed” and that you’re doing what’s best for you. expect a lot of tears when she does.

Miles isn’t perfect either by any means, but in terms of conserving energy he can relate to your antics. He’s always been the lower energy type, mainly because he doesn’t like to overexert himself (it’s a fate worse than death in his opinion, he HATES being unable to compete a task due to lack of energy). Chances are you likely inherited it from him unknowingly, simply following the mannerisms of your big brother. Miles often tells you to not fret on Franziska’s criticism on you, as it’s criticism she’s given him too. He’s always looking to be a supportive figure for you, as he shares that same need to protect you like Franziska- especially after all that he’s lost. He’s not looking to lose you either.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Productivity

Prompt: if you’re still open to prompts could you write some Roman-centric hurt/comfort? Maybe with him overworking himself and Logan finding him?

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Logince, can be platonic or romantic you decide, implied mociet, implied parental anxciet and moxiety

Warnings: Roman’s pretty hard on himself, so self-doubt, self-destructive tendencies, can be interpreted as self-harm if you squint but nothing graphic/explicit, self-esteem issues, sympathetic dark sides

Word Count: 5850

Roman is loud. Roman is extra. Roman is brimming with all the trimmings and trappings of an extravagant parade and it is impossible to ignore him when he walks into a room.

 After all, when you’ve only got 0.5% of a day to make yourself count, you learn not to let a single second of it slip by.

Roman has to be perfect for that 0.5%. He can’t slip up even once or he risks that 0.5% slipping away entirely. He has his ideas, he has his witty barbs prepared, he has his improv skills ready, and he never stops moving. Which means the other 99.5% has to be used very wisely.

 He has to get the ideas thought up, drafted, edited, and ready to be passed off. He has to be primped and coiffed and never look for a second that he’s been caught off guard. He has to work.

 Logan’s the one with the schedule, anyone will tell you that. It’s up on his wall, perfectly ordered and color-coded with half a dozen dry erase markers and post-its next to it, all ready to go the instant it needs to be adjusted. Logan’s discipline is evident in the way he speaks, dresses, acts, it’s right there for the world to see.

 Roman’s discipline is in the hours and hours he spends in front of his computer, or with a pen in his hand, or with the sword at his side. It’s in the way his fingers beat out anxious rhythms against the keys or forget what letters are supposed to look like halfway through writing a word. It’s in the way he can sit down for six hours and write and write and write until his eyes are strained but the words are here.

 Patton worries when that happens, knocking on Roman’s door with his voice full of concern, food, water, even just a hug. Roman always hollers at him to come in only to bounce from one corner of the room to the next as he tries to figure out what to write next, how to hit the next plot point, or barely looks up from his frantic typing as he assures Patton that yes, he’s fine, thank you for asking, yes, he’s taken breaks, he’s just so close to a stopping point then he’ll give him a hug, okay? Patton leaves reassured and Roman’s fingers fly. He doesn’t come by that often so it’s okay.

 He can’t start tasks and not finish them. He has so much to do that it’s not worth starting one thing and leaving it off because he’ll forget it. Better to sit there and see something all the way to the end than get interrupted and start something else and risk forgetting what he was going to do. So he has to work through it, get into that zone where all he has to think about is the rhythmic click-click-click of the keyboard and making sure his words machine is going going going. And if that means sometimes he looks up and it’s only been ten minutes or he looks up and it’s been a whole hour, well. Push through. Once he’s in the zone he can just go. It’s just a matter of getting there.

 Roman’s quite proud of the way he’s built his schedule, if he does say so himself. Once he gets into the zone and works he can get all the projects he needs to get done in a day dusted and dried, set aside for review or further brainstorming. After all that, it’s normally near his 0.5% time, so he dusts himself off and wears that big smile and rides the high of a job well done to fuel his princely persona until the 0.5% is over. If it’s just dinner, it’s done by the time the meal is over. If he’s spending a little time with the others, they normally tire of him before it runs out. If it’s movie night, well…it’s dark. And he can sit away from everyone else.

 It’s a very efficient system. Logan would be proud.

 Except, well…

 Okay. Here’s the thing.

 Roman’s Creativity, yes, but he’s also Passion, Desire, Romance, a lot of things.

 He’s also the Ego.

 That makes him…squishy.

 It’s not that he can’t take criticism, far from it—criticism and feedback is one of the things that makes everyone better. It’s just that he…okay, this is going to sound really stupid, but he’s just…he’s just very bad at receiving any sort of feedback, okay?

 Compliments are wonderful and make his chest all warm and fuzzy but they also make his face flush redder than his sash and make him want to be very, very small. Positive feedback makes him want to skip to the end to find out what else he needs to do or shrink away from the bright spotlight he’s suddenly found himself in.

 No feedback is awful. He wants to make a difference, to do something, talk about something with someone. He wants to be here, to be present, to talk and listen and create. He can’t create in an empty room.

 Constructive criticism is…hard.

 It’s so fucking stupid. He knows everything isn’t perfect. Nothing’s ever really finished, it just gets to a point where you’ve used it to say what you need it to say at that moment and you let it go. And he needs help to get it there before he gives it up, he knows this, he knows this.

 And it’s not even that it comes as only things he needs to work on. It’s always both strengths and weaknesses—sorry, things that could be better—it’s not like it's just a pile of ‘stuff you did wrong.’

 And most of the time it’s good feedback. It makes him a better creator, helps him understand his audience more. And it’s genuinely really insightful, like they obviously took time to understand the work and think about it and want it to be more like what he wants it to do. They care and it’s obvious and it shows and Roman really should understand this because he makes fun of the things that he loves.

 So why, please, Roman would like to know, why is he hunched over his desk with his head on a book as his throat tears itself raw?

 His lungs are screaming at him to get air and he’s gasping at nothing, his nose way too stuffed up to do anything other than dribble horrifically all over his work. His gaze is focused on nothing. The letters in front of him blur into meaningless black squiggles. Spit drips out the side of his lips. His hands clutch at nothing. And his chest aches so so bad.

 One of his hands comes up to clutch at the front of his costume. The sash groans in protest. He can hardly feel the indents of his knuckles. He pushes harder. It still just hurts. Why does it hurt?

 He spent six hours writing this idea from scratch. He poured over and over this thing until his eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head and he worked so hard. And he—he thought he did good.

  It’s did ‘well,’ Roman.

 Roman winces, another wave of—oh hey, he’s crying. When did that happen?—another wave of tears spilling behind his eyes, making them ache too.

 It was the only idea of the last batch that everyone wanted and—and Thomas asked for it to be done and he wanted to have time to work on the other things that Thomas wasn’t sure about and make it so Virgil didn’t have to stress about everything and he worked so hard on it and it was—he thought it was good and he’s being so fucking ridiculous right now.

 Logan has said parts of it were good. He’d complimented Roman on how much he’d been able to write in such a short amount of time. He’d asked if Roman would want to talk about some of this stuff in greater detail at a later time because he’d been interested and obviously Roman had opinions and things to say about it.

 And that counts for something, or at least it should.

 But…but Logan had also said that the framework was wrong.

 The framework was wrong. That—that was the whole point of the story. The framework was supposed to convey the message and the message was supposed to come across and it doesn’t matter that Logan thought some of the stuff was good because it was made to suit the framework that Roman thought they wanted but it’s not which means he has to rework the whole thing entirely because it’s not what they wanted and—

 And Logan said it should be reorganized which is not how a story works because he can’t just cut and paste things to fit where he wants them because he has to make sure it works and it makes sense and if he has to rewrite the structure and the message then he—he—

 He has to start over.

 A wracked sob tears its way out of Roman’s throat, right into the pages of the book. Six hours. Six hours. Down the fucking drain. He could’ve—he could’ve spent that time doing other things or fixing other things or—

 Or, he thinks bitterly, one hand still clutched to his aching chest, you could’ve just done it right the first fucking time.

 God, he’s going to have to do so much work to catch up. He’s—he’s going to have to put off writing that short story, making sure that idea was polished, making sure that—

 He has so much work to do.

 By the time he raises his head from the book, his head is tingling. His fingers lose sensation as he moves and his entire chest feels like it's held together by the weakest threads. He has to let his head drop back to the gross wet spot he’s left in the book just to avoid a horrible head rush. A few slow, shuddering breaths later, and he sits back in his chair.

 He’s actually quite proud of himself, he thinks absentmindedly as he looks for his tissue box. He does remember when he started crying. It was during the feedback with Logan.

 Logan said that entire sections needed to be cut. Something in Roman’s chest had snapped when he heard that. They were…this story was his darling.

 They’re all his darlings, but this one, so new, so…so fresh was still living in his chest, right next to his heart.

 His voice hadn’t slipped once. Even as tears ran down his face he hadn’t slipped. Then Logan had realized it was later than expected and apologetically left Roman in the common space. Had to get to another meeting. That was fine. Roman could get away with a much terser goodbye and Logan didn’t look too hard at his face.

 He has so much work to do.

 If he puts it off he’s never going to want to pick it up again and the dread of it will poison him. Poison Thomas. He can’t have that. They’re already behind schedule. He’s already behind schedule.

 If he starts doing this now he won’t be able to stop. He’s not in the right space and he doesn’t know if he can force himself into the one he needs to be in. Just the thought of looking at his notes, with the handwriting getting worse and worse is enough to make his fingers tremble. The thought of looking at Logan’s precise comments in bright, bold, unmistakably incorrect red pinches right under his throat.

  It’s alright, Roman. You’ve done good work. Especially for a rough draft.

 This wasn’t supposed to be a rough draft.

 He glances at the clock. It’s been too long. He has to do something.

 He doesn’t wash his face off or drink water. He doesn’t eat. He has somewhere to be in half an hour and he has to do something.

 Roman’s fingers are clumsy on the keyboard. The words aren’t words. He opens the draft and shakily creates a copy. He can’t hurt his sweetheart. He can’t.

 He can maim the fuck out of a copy, though.

 Each section that disappears in a merciless click of the delete button makes the ache in his chest worse. So much work. So much time. So much of Roman. Gone. Not right. Worthless.

 He has so much work to do.

 Roman pointedly covers the clock on his computer with a folded up post-it note and sets an alarm for when he needs to get ready to go meet with Remus. He puts his head down and works, blinking when he can’t see the screen through his tears. He…he can’t make this work, not with the corrections that Logan wants, not with the time he needs to make up. He has to start over, almost completely, which means back to the drawing board. New outline, new readings, new interpretations, new everything. Because it’s not what they wanted and Roman has to be what they want.

 Two minutes until he has to go meet with Remus he gets up and blows his nose. Quick glance in the mirror, it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Grab what he needs to. Make sure this is in fact what he’s supposed to do.

 Roman’s one act of true cowardice is making sure Janus isn’t around.

 Remus doesn’t notice anything wrong, and if he does, he doesn’t say anything.

 Good.

—————————————————————

 Logan sighs, adjusts his glasses, and closes his laptop. It’s been a productive day and he has precisely thirteen minutes before he’s required downstairs to bake with Patton. They’re making blueberry muffins tonight, as requested, and Logan has secured permission to be absent from the movie marathon.

 He gets up and makes his way to his schedule wall, picking up his pack of markers as he goes. Light blue for Patton, dark blue for himself, purple for Virgil, yellow for Janus, green for Remus, and red for Roman. He frowns, noticing that he has to press a little harder than anticipated to get Virgil’s marker to show up.

 Logan sinks out to Remus’s room, ducking a chunk of flying viscera and quickly conjuring an umbrella for himself.

 “Remus?”

 “That is me,” Remus cackles, hanging upside down from…what looks to be a chandelier constructed entirely out of viscera and a partially decomposed sperm whale skeleton. His face appears under the brim of Logan’s umbrella. “What brings you here?”

 “Do you still have the pack of markers I lent you?”

 “No! I used those up ages ago.”

 Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dare I ask why?”

 “You remember how we talked about how if you do the simple science experiment of emptying a highlighter into water then putting flowers in it to make them glow in the dark?”

 “...yes?”

 “Did you know you can do the same with octopuses?”

 …now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that…

 “Enjoy your chandelier, Remus,” Logan sighs, sinking out and promptly disposing of the umbrella. He adjusts his tie and makes sure nothing splattered his glasses and starts toward Roman’s room. He would ask Patton but that might lead to starting the baking earlier than expected and, if he’s being honest, Logan does not currently have the wherewithal to do that quite so soon. He just needs to pick up a new purple marker and go back to his room.

 He doesn’t actually know what he expected to find.

 Maybe it was a Roman sprawled across his bed, idly toying with something, or across the floor with several pens strewn about him. Or at the computer, laughing at the screen with his feet up or fiddling with something.

 Maybe it was an empty room, Roman in the Imagination, or even Roman upset about some of the comments he’d made earlier.

 He knocks on the door and frowns when it creaks open.

 “Roman?”

 Logan pushes the door open and looks around. Roman’s not here. There’s water running in the bathroom. He knocks on the door louder.

 “One moment!”

 The bathroom door opens and Roman appears. “Logan. Is there something wrong?”

 “One of my pens has dried up and I’m seeking a replacement.”

 Something flashes across Roman’s face too quick to accurately pinpoint and in a flash, a new pack of markers sits in Roman’s hand.

 “Thank you.”

 Roman nods and turns, sitting at his desk and shuffling through a few papers. When Logan doesn’t move for a few moments, Roman looks back up.

 “…is there something else?”

 “No, I just…” Logan tilts his head. “Are you alright, Roman?”

 “I’m performing within acceptable limits,” Roman jokes, even as his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “just…trying to get this done before the z—um. Before we have to go downstairs. Thanks for baking for tonight, I, uh, I know you won’t be staying for the movies so I should probably say thank-you now, right?”

 “Roman,” Logan interrupts softly, “Roman, what were you going to say?”

 “Hmm?”

 “You cut yourself off. You were going to say ‘before’ something that wasn’t going downstairs.”

 “Was I?”

 “Roman.”

 Roman’s fingers falter on the keyboard for barely a second. “Don’t you want to get in some more rest before baking,” he tries, “I know you’ve expressed that helps you before.”

 “I would, but I would also like to know what you were going to say.”

 Roman worries his bottom lip. “…can’t I just finish working, please?”

 Logan looks around. Something is wrong.

 The door barely squeaks as Logan shuts it, glancing around to make sure no one else is sneaking by or within earshot. He turns back just in time to see Roman recovering from a horrible flinch. Without meaning to, a soft comforting noise escapes his throat.

 “Roman, what’s—“

 “I’m fine, Specs.”

 “Yes, I can tell from that tone of voice that you are completely and utterly fine.”

 “You know I’m pretty sure sass is an emotional response.”

 The corner of his mouth quirks up and he walks closer, setting the pack of markers down on the corner of Roman’s desk and folding his hands in front of him.

 “Roman,” he tries again, “what’s wrong?”

 Roman’s hands tighten into fists on his keyboard. He barely glances up at Logan. “It’s nothing, Specs.”

 “If it’s upsetting you it’s not nothing.”

 “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

 “It’s upsetting you, Roman, that means it’s something for me to be concerned about.”

 Roman huffs. “Give me a little credit, Logan, I promise I can operate under distress without compromising Thomas or the rest of you, I’ve had enough practice.”

 “…I must admit I’m not sure if you expect me to be reassured by that.”

 Silence.

 The clock in the hallway ticks.

 Roman takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back. “The 0.5%.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “The 0.5%, Logan,” Roman repeats, “that’s what I was going to say.”

 Logan frowns. What—why would Roman say—0.5% of what?

 Roman gives him a disbelieving smile when Logan cautiously broaches that question. “You should know, Specs. Your chart, remember?”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Roman, what—what does that have to do with this?”

 “What does the fact that you’ve only given me 0.5% of each day to run things have to do with me being upset?”

 “Roman you—you’re allowed to do things, I didn’t mean it like that, I just—“

 “Stop, Logan,” Roman says with a soft fury, reaching out to lay his hand on Logan’s arm only to stop. His hand closes into a fist and returns to his side. Goosebumps raise on Logan’s arm and he suddenly feels very, very cold.

“Stop,” he says again, “it doesn’t matter how you meant it. I understand.”

 “But clearly you don’t,” Logan protests, “if you believe that you are only allowed to exist for 0.5% of each day—“

 “That’s not it, Logan.” Roman turns in his chair. “I get 0.5% to exist around you each day.”

 “I don’t see the difference!”

 “It means I have to perform for 0.5% a day.”

  Perform.

 Logan’s mind stutters to a halt. No. No, no, Roman…

 “Roman,” he starts, “Roman, why are you doing so much work?”

 “Well, when you only have 0.5% of a day to present, you’d better have some damn good stuff, shouldn’t you? After all, it’s not like you’ll get much time to talk it through before you have to—“

 “Not…not just that,” Logan interrupts, “why did you call it ‘performing?’”

 Roman stares up at him, his head tilted to the side. “…do you actually believe that I’m…like that?”

 The fact that the ‘yes’ came so readily to the tip of his tongue makes Logan sick.

 “When you only have so little time,” Roman mumbles, “if I don’t…if I don’t take up all the space I can for that amount of time, I’m afraid it will just…slip away.”

 Before Logan can even begin to talk about how awful that is, Roman blusters on.

 “That’s why I have to get back to work. I have to get this done before the 0.5% starts so I can make the most of it. Thought you’d be happy, Specs,” Roman says, flashing the fakest smile Logan’s ever seen, “about how efficient I’m being.”

 Logan is many things right now, and ‘happy’ is not any of them. His mouth opens and closes, trying to look for words, for something, anything to try and override this, make Roman see sense, make Roman see—

 He stops.

 Roman wasn’t expecting him. He’s been surprised.

 His hands are shaking as they type. He keeps having to hit the backspace key. There are twitches in his arms that aren’t normally there and he keeps trying to scoot away from Logan.

 Logan reaches out to cover one of Roman’s hands.

 Roman flinches so hard he almost knocks his laptop off of the desk.

 “You’re panicking,” Logan murmurs, “take a deep breath.”

 He holds Roman still until some of the mania goes out of his eyes. He lifts his hand away.

 “That’s enough work for today.”

 “What? No, no, I’m so behind, I have so much work to do, I have to—“

 “What have you done today, Roman?”

 “Not nearly enough, I have to—“

 Then Logan catches sight of a stack of paper with red annotations. He frowns, moving around Roman to take a look, ignoring the soft noise of protest. This is the feedback he gave Roman earlier, these are his annotations, that’s his red pen he uses for Roman, that’s…

 …oh.

 Oh, no.

 No, no, no, no…

 “Roman,” he murmurs, turning to look at him, “why is this wet?”

 Roman takes a breath and Logan blinks.

 Roman looks so small.

 “…I have so much work to do.”

 Something in Logan hurts. Think. Think. Think.

 He glances around frantically, spotting a stack of looseleaf paper. Aha.

 “Roman,” he manages around the lump in his throat, “if we make a list of things that you have to or have already done today, will that help?”

 Roman nods, watching as Logan hurries to grab a sheet of paper and fetch the red pen out of the marker box. “…do we have to use red?”

 Logan pauses, yet to uncap it. “Is there something wrong with red?”

 The costume makes a few rustling noises as Roman shifts in the chair. Logan holds out the pen until the cap lies next to the bright red sash on Roman’s chest. “Red’s your color, isn’t it?”

 “…wait, that’s why you always use red?”

 “That’s why I use red for you.”

 “…oh.”

 As he makes the list, he keeps an eye on Roman. Has he…have they never truly looked at Roman? Logan’s sure Janus knows at least some of this, if not all of it, and Remus has absolutely no filter any of the time but especially not when it comes to Roman.

 They’ll have to be better about that.

 Roman’s face perks up a little when Logan finally passes him the list, only to fall almost as quickly when he sees the number of things on it. “L-Logan, I—“

 “Have a look at each of them,” Logan interrupts softly, passing him the pen, “and mark off the ones that you’ve done already.”

 “…am I supposed to do all of these today?”

 “Ideally, yes.”

 The grim look of resignation and determination on Roman’s face is enough to make Logan want to take it away, but he can’t. Not before Roman sees.

 Sure enough, as Roman starts to scan down the list, his brow furrows. He glances up at Logan who simply nods toward it.

 “Um…”

 “Read out the ones you’re having trouble with,” Logan offers, “if you like.”

 “…'get out of bed?’”

 “Did you do that?”

 “Yes?”

 “Then cross it off.”

 Bemused, Roman does. He consults the list again. “Are all of these—am I supposed to—“

 Logan nods when Roman can’t finish his sentence. “Check off the ones you’ve done and then we’ll see how productive you’ve been today.”

 It’s strange, Logan thinks as he watches Roman go down the list, he’s never been so…gentle like this before, especially not with Roman.

 Maybe it’s time to be better about that too.

 “All finished?”

 “I think so…”

 “How many do you have left?”

 “Um, just…drink water, save current works, eat dinner, and, um…” Roman squints at the page, then up at Logan, “…receive emotional support.”

 “Well, those don’t seem to be too difficult.” Logan folds his arms and smiles. “I’d say you’ve been very productive today.”

 “But I need to rework the entire idea for tomorrow,” Roman argues, “I haven’t even made a dent in it, I—“

 “Wait, why do you think you need to rework it completely?”

 “…you said the framework was wrong and you need it reorganized. Which is fine,” Roman hastily defends, “you’re not wrong, but that basically means I have to start over.”

 “You don’t have to start over, Roman,” Logan reassures, “and that’s not what I meant. Why don’t we check off the rest of the list now and then we can have a…redo of the feedback session tomorrow?”

 “Logan, I’m really confused right now,” Roman blurts out, clutching the list like a lifeboat.

 “What’s confusing?”

 Logan takes a step closer, resisting the urge to smile when Roman doesn’t back away.

 “…not that this isn’t appreciated,” Roman manages finally, “but I—you—you’ve never done this before.”

 “Perhaps I didn’t realize that it was necessary.”

  Wrong thing to say.

 “Wait, you don’t have to—I can—I’ll be fine on my own—“

 “Not what I meant, Roman, I am perfectly aware that you are capable of taking care of yourself,” Logan soothes, “but…it seems that my actions—or lack of actions, perhaps—has been hurting you. And I apologize for that.”

 Roman swallows heavily, the list still wrinkled up in his hands.

 “I want to have this conversation properly,” Logan murmurs, taking another step closer, “and when you feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s really going on. That’s not now, and that’s okay. Will you take my word if I tell you that you don’t need to do as much work on your story as you think you do?”

 “…sure.”

 “I’m pleased to hear that.” Logan gestures toward the door. “Why don’t you save your work and we’ll go downstairs?”

 “Aren’t you baking with Patton in like—now?”

 “I was, but Janus has also expressed interest in baking tonight, and…” Logan smiles. “I do not think he would be upset to learn that I wished to postpone for this reason.”

 The smallest smile comes to Roman’s face. “…since when have those two been…”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Have you noticed that they— with Virgil—“

 “Oh, don’t even get me started.”

 “It’s like watching a sitcom sometimes, isn’t it?”

 “Quite.”

 It makes Roman chuckle and Logan feels his shoulders relax. Then something passes over his face again.

 “What is it?”

 “Nothing, nothing, it’s just the um, the last thing on the list of receiving emotional support…” Roman absentmindedly smoothes out the paper. “…don’t know how I’m going to get that if, um…well, movie night’s still a thing.”

 …that is not the kind of emotional support Logan was referring to and they both know it.

 “Well,” Logan says, adjusting his tie and valiantly ignoring the heat rushing to his face, “there is another option.”

 Roman’s eyes widen. “…you’re serious?”

 “Of course.”

 “But you…when you ask off movie night, that’s—“

 “Roman.”

 Roman stops. Something flickers over his face. Logan frowns.

 “What?”

 “…you’ve said my name a lot today, Specs,” Roman mumbles, looking away.

 “Is that a problem?”

 Roman shrugs. “…kind of reminds me of when I, um, mess up.”

 “…what?”

 “You, um…” Roman fiddles with the list. “You don’t normally use my name unless you’re talking about me. And you don’t, uh, you don’t normally do that unless I’ve done something wrong. But that’s not your fault.”

 “…thank you for telling me.” Logan tilts his head. “Is there something you would rather I call you instead?”

 “Not particularly.”

 “Princey?”

 “No thanks.”

 “Kiddo?”

 “You’re not Patton.”

 “No, it sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

 “Yeah.”

 “…I’m guessing Creativity would be…”

 “…yeah.”

 “I’ll think of something,” Logan murmurs, “but yes, I would be happy to spend the evening with you.” Roman still looks unsure. “Why the hesitation?”

 “You don’t like being touched,” Roman blurts out, the list in his hands about to rip.

  Ah.

 Logan reaches forward and carefully extricates the list from Roman’s grasp. He sets it on the desk. Roman watches him, eyes wide, as Logan rests his hand on his shoulder.

 “I don’t like being touched when I don’t expect it,” Logan says quietly, “or when it’s not on my terms. When it is…and especially when it’s helping someone, I don’t mind at all.”

 Roman’s staring at his hand like he’s never seen it before. His shoulder feels so…small?

 Is Roman shaking?

 “Hey,” Logan calls softly, “hey, can you look at me?”

 Roman doesn’t move.

 “Come on, just…just look at me.”

 Roman turns his head and oh—

 “Oh, dear,” Logan breathes, his hand moving up on instinct to wipe away Roman’s tear, “oh, dear, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

 Roman’s eyes fall shut as more tears brim on his lashes. He squeezes them tightly and turns his head, almost nuzzling into Logan’s palm, as if he doesn’t believe it’s really there.

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “You’re touch-starved,” Logan whispers, mostly to himself, stepping closer and cupping Roman’s face firmly.

 “Haven’t exactly had time to—“ a breath rips itself out of Roman’s lungs as Logan pulls him closer— “to—to—I—you’re really warm, Logan…”

 “You’ve been overworking yourself,” Logan says firmly, “and you don’t have to. Not ever again.”

 Roman’s eyes flutter open cautiously, staring at Logan with such unabashed hope that it makes his throat clench.

 “Hey,” he murmurs instead, “there you are.”

 “…sorry.”

 “No need to be.” Logan brushes away another tear. “Why don’t we go downstairs, get something to eat, something to drink, and then come back?”

 Roman nods, but his eyes glaze over a little as Logan keeps stroking his cheek. Logan shakes his head, smiling fondly at him. Oh, Roman…

 “Hey,” he calls again, giving Roman’s face a little shake, “hug me.”

 “W-what?”

 “Hug me,” Logan repeats, opening his arms, “come on…”

 The time it takes for Roman to step forward and carefully, carefully place his arms around Logan’s shoulders like he’s afraid of ruining him feels like an eternity. As soon as it’s clear Roman’s not going to do any more than lightly rest the weight of his arms on Logan for just a moment, Logan moves.

 He wraps his arms firmly around Roman’s waist and pulls him until they’re flush. He smiles a little at the gasp of surprise, only to soften instantly when Roman lets out a keen.

 “I said hug me, dear heart,” Logan whispers, the pet name rolling off his tongue before he can stop it, “come on, now, you can do better than that.”

 Poor Roman is shaking so badly Logan feels himself almost thrown off balance. He spreads his feet a little wider and holds him, rubbing his back and lifting his chin a little higher. Roman feels so small and cold in his arms that he doesn’t try and playfully coax him into hugging tighter. Instead, he hooks his chin over Roman’s shoulder and tightens his grip, softly encouraging him to breathe, to relax, it’s alright.

 “That’s it,” he murmurs when Roman finally sags into his arms, “that’s it, dear heart, good, I have you, I have you.”

 Roman turns his head into Logan’s neck and Logan makes a soft sound at the slight dampness. His arms still tremble slightly, but he’s leaning most of his weight onto Logan now, almost hanging off of him with the grip he has on his wrists.

 “I’ve got you,” he promises, “I’ve got you.”

 When his arms start to ache pleasantly from the strain of keeping his grip, Logan eases back, making sure to keep one hand on Roman’s face.

 “If we stand here any longer we may fall asleep,” he whispers, “let’s go downstairs, and then we can come back, hmm?”

 Roman, the poor thing, is so exhausted that all he can do is fall forward a little, just so their foreheads rest together. Logan chuckles.

“Just for dinner, then we’ll come back and I’ll cuddle you some more, okay?”

 “…yeah, okay.”

 “You can have a chance to hug me properly too, hmm?”

 Roman huffs a laugh. “I’ll show you.”

 “I’m sure you will, dear heart.” When the face against his suddenly grows much warmer, Logan tilts his head. “Is that alright? Dear heart?”

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s alright. More than alright.”

 “Then come on, dear heart, let’s get those last few things checked off the list, hmm?”

 Patton, of course, has absolutely no objections. Virgil tips them a lazy two-fingered salute. Remus doesn’t quite tackle his brother into the wall but it’s close. Janus makes eye contact with Logan and gives him a nod. Right. They should talk too. But not tonight.

 When Roman’s door closes again and Roman crosses the last item off the list, Logan takes it from him and sets it aside, holding out his arms.

 “Come here, dear heart.”

 This time, Roman wraps his arms around Logan without hesitation. Logan hides a smile in Roman’s shoulder as he sits them on the bed, lies them down, tucks Roman in close.

 Roman is quiet. Roman is soft. Roman is an excellent cuddler. He fits perfectly into Logan’s arms. He’s perfect.

 It’s been a very productive day.

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[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)

Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333

Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.

My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.

What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.

I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.

For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?

Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.

In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.

And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.

While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.

[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]

In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.

After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.

We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success. 

[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]

The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously. 

Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling. 

[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]

Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.

Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.

This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)

So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach. 

He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins

One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.

My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future. 

So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.

And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?

When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview. 

The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:

“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”

“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”

Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!

So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.

That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7

[faelapis]

what i mean when i say i like jasper’s ending a Lot in terms of “what the character needs”, rather than what the audience needs, is that the transition from “fragments”, to “homeworld bound”, to finally “the future” shows, albeit quickly, a pretty interesting commentary on “want vs need”.

“want vs need” is a pretty basic storytelling concept of, basically, writing flawed characters who have some growing to do as people. they “want” one thing, but they actually “need” another thing.

so let’s talk about jasper’s “want” vs “need”.

cont: but you are not my diamond. if you think you’re hard enough to tell me what to do, fight me and prove it.

she makes her “want” clear in every episode she’s in SU future - which is that she wants to subjugate herself to a diamond, because that’s the only worthwhile purpose in life she’s known.

but we, and steven, don’t actually want that to happen. we know it’s not good for her health. we’ve seen that it’s not, both because hierarchies like those are toxic and because we’ve been shown, specifically for jasper, that it causes her to self-destruct over and over again.

so when it does happen, it’s very fitting that it’s in the worst circumstances possible. she begged for steven to fight her with all his might, over and over again, so he could prove himself a worthy diamond - to the point where he ends up shattering her. and when she’s brought back to life, she’s not even mad at him. he’s proven himself a “worthy” superior.

so we’ve been shown very clearly that jasper’s want is pretty, well, unhealthy for her. she would literally die for it, and get nothing in return except unhealthy, oppressive structures around her. getting everything she wants, at long last, fills her with a kind of void and fragile happiness... which only lasts so long as steven embraces his role as diamond and stays with her. 

hence we, and steven, only see her act at peace with her circumstances without complaint for a couple minutes, and it always (both in fragments and homeworld bound) ends in her own heartbreak. that’s the fragility of her “want”.

basically, it’s bad because, albeit she would know what to do with these structures... it would be at the expense of her own agency, character growth and health. it would always end badly for her.

this is a good time to point out the parallels to steven in “mr universe”.

much like jasper, steven doesn’t care if the structures around greg were cruel or oppressive. he never looks closely enough to notice how much greg hated his life. he just wants things he sees as “normal”. he wants guidance, certainty and authority figures to tell him what he’s “supposed” to do in life.

so. how is jasper’s “want” inverted?

much like rose would eventually do with pearl, the unhealthy attachment is cut by giving your subject a very bitter pill - disappearing from their life. by leaving them behind, you’re essentially forcing them to grow.

that’s NOT the main / only reason rose has steven, or steven eventually leaving beach city... but both serve the purpose of making someone who idolized you “deal with” your absence. and that’s certainly at least a part of their intention - rose thought of herself as stuck and likely holding pearl back. steven is horrified by the diamond role and wants jasper to do “something better”.

and that leads us to jasper’s “need” - to be free from these oppressive authority structures and find her own path in life. this would both improve her health & happiness, as well as making her stop engaging in unhealthy behavior towards herself and others.

now. is she fully “there” yet? no. 

but i think that as much as her trying to persuade steven to take her with him into the great unknown mirrors pearl - ie “i should be fighting for you, because you’re too important”, her reaction to steven’s reassurance that he will be fine shows that she’s already done more growing than pearl had at that point.

she’s likely been taking classes at little homeworld (where she was confirmed to currently live, NOT just visit to say goodbye to steven) for the preceding months between “i am my monster” and “the future”. she’s somewhere near accepting that her diamond doesn’t need protection. it’s also likely something she started thinking after “fragments” - if your diamond is truly so wonderfully powerful... why would they need your protection? what is your “purpose”? steven defeating her + leaving without her in “homeworld bound” both lead her to the same conclusion - she can’t fail or succeed in protecting him, because he doesn’t need her to.

thus, her role isn’t warranted.

“i can protect myself”. “i know... farewell, my diamond”.

it’s pretty significant to me that at the end of their little scene, steven doesn’t run away or give jasper any orders to stop following him. SHE leaves, albeit sadly, because she agrees with him. he can take care of himself.

jasper’s still framing steven as a diamond / superior, but... i think a big point here is that she’s someone who was so firmly stuck at the bottom of a pit of self-hatred, isolation and meaninglessness that she couldn’t unstuck herself - not without being pushed to do so. which ended up also being true for steven.

that’s the irony of the double-edged sword of her “want” - in a way, she’s right about one thing. she can’t just magically get better on her own.

i think the episode “guidance” illustrates an interesting balance between steven and amethyst’s philosophies - amethyst would rather gems do whatever, even if they end up slipping back into their old patterns. steven would rather guide them towards challenging themselves, even if that means dismissing their autonomy.

jasper... kinda gets both? her “want” and “need” play into each other in interesting ways. i’ve been framing her want as a negative a lot, but it does have an interesting silver lining - she had to get what she wanted (to be defeated, to be given a diamond), to be pushed to what she needed.

and in turn, steven needed to listen to and adapt to HER, in order to help her. only after doing that, after being pushed by jasper in turn and truly giving her what she wants, even if it tears you apart mentally... would she ever listen to you. as steven is probably used to by now.

and despite the tragedy of it, i think that’s... kind of an okay thing to show? because not everyone will seek help on their own. it’s not the uplifting message of “anyone who needs help will eventually realize it entirely on their own”, but it IS the hopeful message of “even people who refuse help, deserve help”. 

there’s horror in steven ultimately adapting to jasper’s desires, because it shows them both the fragility of their wants - for steven, being able to control jasper was a horrifying consequence. he got what he “wanted” in the worst way possible. for jasper, getting what she “wanted” meant being forced to let it (steven) go in favor of staying at little homeworld. 

but honestly... we already knew that jasper would never seek help on her own. she’s too “selfless”, in the toxic sense. purpose matters most.

and she’s not alone in that.

“pearl took pride in risking her destruction for your mother. she put rose quartz over everything; over logic, over consequence, over her own life.”

pearl taking rose down from that pedestal was a slow, elaborate, exhausting process that took years of actively working on herself. the majority of that work was only done after rose was gone.

jasper’s gonna have all the same tools - a genuine support network, people who are willing to both empathize and teach a better way, distance from her romanticized superior, and her own desire to get better. 

the latter point, at first, because she’s told to. but as we saw in “little homeschool”, leaving her to her own devices without any “worthwhile” path forward wasn’t ideal. her “want”, much like amethyst said... still deserves to be listened to, even if she still thinks like a homeworld gem. 

but the seriousness of such an effort is, as pearl taking care of steven “for rose” and then “for him” and finally growing to do things “for herself” shows, a good avenue for REAL growth. jasper may soon yet grow for her own sake.

and the results... again, pulling pearl as my example, can be remarkable.

as i’ve said before... i am pretty sad we won’t actually get to see more of that. that’s what “the audience” may have felt they needed from jasper. the same way i’m sure rose would find it bittersweet to know how much pearl has grown without her. the same way you’re sad whenever you don’t see a character you love find love and happiness onscreen, even if it’s implied...

but in a show told from steven’s perspective, i think there is some point to that.

i’ve come around to the following: she couldn’t go with him. any forgiving hugs steven & jasper could’ve given each other at this point would’ve been hollow. that power dynamic would’ve been in the way. what they “need” is not each other. they need people who really, truly understand them, and to figure out what they want in their lives when steven doesn’t have someone to save emotionally (jasper), and jasper doesn’t have someone to sacrifice herself for (steven). 

(...and it’s at this point you realize i made you read ALL OF THAT mainly to justify why pearl and jasper’s relationship is gonna be such a central thing in my post-canon fanfic. lol. anyway here’s the link again.)

[rainbowoverdragon]

Thoughts on Ryo

This is an analysis of Zane Truesdale/Ryo Marufuji, focusing on his mindset as well as his relationships with other people. As I am basing this off the original Japanese version for standardization, all names likewise are their sub counterparts.

When Sho obtains a rare and powerful card from his brother, he believes he has it made. After this, Sho finds the courage to confront his bully in a duel. So after he draws Power Bond, Sho thinks he has it made. He gloats to the bully, insulting him, making outlandish claims out of the arrogant belief that he can't lose. Before he can use it, Sho is interrupted by the very person who gifted him that card. "You aren't worthy to use that card yet. Until you have what it takes to be called a duelist, I declare that card off-limits.'' Devastated by this statement, Sho proceeded to view himself as incapable of dueling for years; unworthy of Power Bond. It’s an establishing character moment for both Marufuji brothers, setting Ryo up as an impossible standard to reach in Sho’s eyes. However, for Ryo, his intentions are revealed to be more well-intentioned than Sho is led to believe. In episode 8, Sho realizes that Ryo wished for Sho to treat his own power with respect: towards both his opponent and his high-risk high-reward cards. This constant cycle of good intentions and misplaced words leads to a negative feedback loop between the brothers that seems impossible to resolve. Ryo struggles to convey his own observations to others in a way that doesn’t come off as condescending. Sho cannot take things past face value, and places his brother upon a pedestal that he cannot surpass. After all, how can you beat perfection itself?

During his years in Duel Academy, Ryo is the embodiment of perfection. He is the opposite of his brother, never missing a single mark in any area. Everyone constantly refers to Ryo as “perfect”, from his teachers to his peers to even the Kaiser himself. He even soundly beats Judai in the first duel they have together, a feat seen as impossible by the audience. But it’s this very idea of perfection that haunts Ryo, as he believes that perfection implies stagnation. If Ryo has perfect scores in class, there is no way to improve them. If he reached the peak of his potential in one duel, that means it’s all downhill from there. His greatest fears are confirmed when he loses to Edo in the Pro Leagues, starting a chain of losses that ruins his career beyond repair. Ryo is perfect. He is so perfect, that during his school years he never truly struggled against an opponent (Aside from Judai in Episodes 51-52 however he maintained the advantage for the majority of the duel). In fact, he suffered from the opposite problem. As Ryo is too powerful, he’d purposely hold back until his peers could unleash their trump cards against him. Only then did he defeat them with just enough power to avoid humiliation. His first loss wasn’t only his first loss, it was the first time Ryo found himself in a disadvantaged position. His inexperience with failure led to him associating the mere act of struggle with the idea of loss. Ryo’s inability to move past this is his own self-fulfilling prophecy. Being afraid of failure makes people play to not lose. Playing to not lose instead of playing to win causes chokes, which results in losses. Unable to break from this cycle, Ryo is abandoned by his sponsors. Which is why the idea of Underground Duels, a place where he can start over and regain his bearings is so enticing. At least, until they reveal the condition.

And at first, Ryo despises the Underground. He appeals to be released, he states it’s not what dueling is, it’s nothing like he could ever imagine. And how could it be? Ryo’s life is on the line, and for no good reason. The shock collars are there to make things fun for the audience, not for any other benefit! In his duel with Sho, who says that 'this isn't dueling', Ryo even admits he thought the same thing. It spits on the very concept of respecting your opponent. The collars humiliate you, egging you on to forget about the other person. And in general, is amoral (as well as a human rights violation). Underground Duels are almost always life or death, because nobody fights harder than people who are convinced they are going to die. And Ryo is convinced that if he duels the way that he always has, if he clings into his morals, he will die. His opponent, Mad Dog, purposely created a deck to counter him. So why should he respect him? Why should he not aim to win? Why can’t he aim to survive? After crawling from hell, nothing is the same for the Kaiser. Because every duel is another reminder that he survived. He is unable to see any match he takes for fun, every duel to him is life or death. In the real world, there are people who lose and wither away, and people who win and thrive. And by god, he wants to feel alive. He spent so long losing, something utterly unthinkable for the Kaiser of Duel Academy. Ryo was undefeated before, now he truly wishes to not experience it again. If forcing himself to feel that every fight of his is to the death, literally or mentally, then so be it. He continues dueling in the Underground, continues to utilize the shock collars he once despised. No matter what cost, health or mind, Ryo requires victory.

When Ryo is told that his health is failing from his shock collars, he doesn’t seek medical attention. Because to Ryo, being alive is more important than living. He transformed into Hell Kaiser achieved the great power that comes from becoming a monster, at the cost of self-destruction. He flirted with death, and finally has to pay the price. And he doesn’t care. As long as Ryo obtains what he wishes, he is happy. And what the Hell Kaiser wants more than anything else, is one last duel to surpass all others. Ryo would rather reach the limit of his capabilities, and die meeting them than waste away quietly to be forgotten forever. Thus he seeks Yubel, the strongest monster spirit in the Universe. If he meets an opponent of his caliber and 'shines' during the mattle, then he’d have nothing to fear in death. But he does. After entering his long-awaited match, Ryo admits to not wanting to die. He wants to live, he wants to leave a mark that can never be forgotten. Yet he doesn’t want to die. Ryo has achieved everything he wanted, shown the strongest he has been or will ever be. Before he duels Yubel, he comes to a revelation. At first, Ryo wished to fight the strongest being to win. He doesn't care anymore. Ryo is dying, win or lose the result is the same. Since he turned Hell Kaiser, Ryo only respected victory. The joy he obtained by knowing he survived another duel is utterly meaningless against Yubel. What happiness does he obtain knowing he survived….when he isn’t going to live to begin with? He understands that the duel itself is what makes Ryo feel alive, doing the most with what remaining time he has with his life. As Ryo tells Judai, his death is the end of the road for people who glorify power. And thus it’s no surprise that Ryo is taken out by the card he is associated with most: Power Bond. A card that lets you receive unthinkable amounts of power, at the price of self-destruction.

Out of all the people who save Judai from himself, the Kaiser’s impact is one of the most apparent. It takes someone who knows the suffering someone else goes through to achieve empathy, especially in Judai's case. Judai struggles with sympathy, as shown with his interactions with Sho in Seasons 1-3. Whenever Sho asks for help with his confidence, Judai gives him the helpful advice of "Don't be anxious!" Judai cannot comprehend being insecure with one's capabilities, thus he cannot help Sho directly. In contrast, Judai is more receptive to empathy. Manjoume's crisis in Season 1 revolved around the pressure others placed upon him to succeed. Judai deeply understands his strife, and helps him fight for himself. This is why Misawa's speech about accountability fails to help Judai utilize Polymerization. Misawa has no fundamental basis to understand Judai's feelings. In contrast, Kaiser's duel with Yubel awakens Judai's character growth. Ryo is Judai's cautionary tale, a warning of self-fulfilling prophecies. During the Graduation Duel, Ryo tells Judai that he possesses infinite potential compared to himself. This rings true in watching Ryo's belief of his own lack of capability to change, resulting in his inability to change because he destroyed himself beyond repair. In contrast, Judai has not fallen to this path. Watching Ryo's descent as well as his late realization means everything to Judai: especially someone so responsive to empathy. This is because they are mirrors of each other, to the point their character’s arcs are entirely parallel to one another. Both are idolized for the power they hold over others, both of them experience the loss of the pedestal they once stood upon. Both achieve the sharpest fall from grace (against an opponent with ‘Mad’ in their title), which leads to them glorifying their own power and abusing it against others. Despite their friends trying to help them, it is ultimately up to themselves to self-actualize their shortcomings. However it is Ryo, who thinks he cannot change, who succumbs upon his own revelation. And it is Ryo, who always believed in Judai’s infinite potential even in the Graduation Duel, who changes Judai’s path. Without Ryo, Judai would be unable to utilize his power responsibly. Because Judai now knows what happens to people who push themselves too far, just like how he used to. Power is not something to be afraid of or abused, but to use responsibly.

The Hell Kaiser doesn’t entirely work for others; he even states he fought Yubel out of selfish motivations. However, Ryo is also constantly associated with lighthouses. To the people that mean the most to him, Ryo is a light that tries to guide others to safety. However lighthouses are far away from the people they try to save, and thus it takes the initiative of others to help themselves after seeing the light from afar. This is shown by Ryo’s relationships with the people he’s closest to remaining fundamentally the same from his own side: regardless of his actual guidance being positive or negative. Ryo’s actions and intentions around Sho remain the same across both his younger self and Hell Kaiser: each time trying to guide Sho to become the best version of himself. "Until you have what it takes to be called a duelist, I declare that card off-limits."", is the devastating statement Ryo told Sho as kids. But Ryo believed his brother needed to understand true power in respect, guiding Sho away from arrogance and towards the light of good. His brother's weakness required defending. This concept is twisted on its head once Ryo becomes Hell Kaiser, who only views power or meaning in victory. Thus he employs the same tactic, because Ryo does not see the difference between restricting Power Bond to teach respect, and having Sho experience the same pain he did to ditch it.

Both Ryo and Hell Kaiser sing the same song. Ryo intends on ‘protecting’ his weaker brother by teaching him right from wrong. Both times, Sho and Ryo misunderstand each other. At first, Sho doesn’t comprehend the real reason why Ryo forbade Power Bond. The second time, Ryo doesn’t understand how Sho can cling to his own beliefs of respect even if he loses because of it. However, the one time Ryo’s words connect is when he saves Sho in season 3. And even then, it’s an admission of distance between the two. Ryo sees Sho’s pain inflicted by Judai far outweighs what Ryo had done to Sho. Thus Ryo advises Sho to follow Judai, since it’s what his heart truly desired all along. He then leaves, to force Sho into walking his own path. Ryo cannot spell out Sho's wishes any more than he does. And if Sho is alone, then he is forced to swim instead of sink.

Ryo’s association with lighthouses in canon directly correlates to Fubuki. As much as Fubuki is associated with darkness, Ryo is quite literally the light that shines through to him. When Fubuki was overtaken by Darkness in the first arc, we later find out that Ryo regrets being unable to find Fubuki no matter how much information and effort he scrounged up. Fubuki then replies that the mere act of trying saved him, as he could see Ryo’s feelings in spite of the darkness that consumed him. To Fubuki, Ryo is the lighthouse that guides people through the darkness. And when Fubuki is overtaken by the Darkness in an attempt to save Ryo from it, Ryo’s feelings once again vanquishes Fubuki from the dark. However, instead of the Kaiser saving Fubuki, Hell Kaiser explicitly protects him from Darkness. Because the two are friends, even after everything Ryo’s been through. This leads Fubuki to a revelation that no one else understands: Hell Kaiser is not fundamentally different from Ryo. Fubuki realizes that even as Hell Kaiser, Ryo respected Fubuki. Why else would he save him from Darkness? Indeed, every interaction of Ryo’s major interpersonal relationships are fundamentally the same. It’s simply his worldview that shifted. As much as Ryo wishes to respect others, he doesn’t think he can in a world where everyone must take advantage of their life to the fullest extent.

And Ryo, who cannot change because he thinks he cannot change, stayed as he was until it was far too late to be saved.

[bhadpodcast]

Why Scott McCall Is Teen Wolf’s Worst Character

There is this notion in the Scott/Posey fandom that they can do and say whatever they want. When Derek and Stiles fans called them out for harassing a Teen Wolf fan who had the audacity to dislike Scott McCall, the Scott McCall defense squad defended their own disgusting behavior by whining that “they disrespected Scott McCall in the general tags.” The problem with that is that these are the same bullies who would go into full-on attack mode if you dared post anything even remotely critical of Scott McCall in the anti Scott McCall tag.

I’ve seen these people post their anti Derek, Stiles, Sterek - pro Scott crap in the “Derek Hale”, “Stiles Stilinski” and “Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski” tags on purpose.

Scott/Posey stans act as if the truth is determined by how loud and toxic they are. Since Stiles and Derek are the fan favorites, the stars of the show, and they overshadowed Scott from the day one without even even trying, then they can do as they please, even harassing Teen Wolf fans and dropping into the Stiles Stilinski or Derek Hale tag to say how much they hate the character.

I personally feel that the reason behind his is that antis identify with Scott so much that if you dare criticize Scott’s canonical abusive actions and behavior, they feel you’re insulting them. They have bought into the wish fulfillment that Scott McCall represents.

Scott McCall represents the idea that you can treat everyone around you like crap, you can insult people, invade their privacy, emotionally or physically lash out at them when you’re upset, but as long as you’re in a position of power and arguably charismatic, people will still love you and treat you like you’re a hero and the bestest friend ever. It doesn’t matter how much you hurt the people around you, because the entire power fantasy is that people will accept your behavior, and instead of asking you to apologize, they’ll instead apologize to you, even for the most minor meaningless slight, because only your feelings and your emotions matter.

It’s what has made characters like Scott McCall so popular among the antis, no matter what show they are on. And why this particular trope, the Average Whiny Asshole With A Plot Armor, is only popular when played by an attractive guy.

Of course, in antis’ fan fictions, Scott McCall will have most of their canon traits (such as violence, jealousy, possessiveness, bigotry, entitlement, and cruelty) removed, because as much as Scott Stans love Scott McCall for being a toxic asshole and getting away with it, they understand they can never admit that. So they turn Scott into a self insert Mary Sue and give him all the positive traits stolen from the Teen Wolf characters who they claim to despise.

This conceals the fact that they liked Scott McCall exactly because of his lack of positive character growth, including his utter refusal to acknowledge that his abusive actions and behavior have consequences even if he manages to hide them or blame others for them.

Scott spent six seasons using his friends and victims as a cover for his actions, and no one ever held him accountable for what he did. The production ended up with a character who is stuck in the same static condition he was in the pilot: a character who never gets to learn or improve any part of himself. By the end of the show, Scott McCall is still the same whiny, cruel, bigoted, entitled asshole that he was when he first showed up on the show. The very same boy who thinks that the hunters had a valid reason to slaughter the Hales, lashes out at his best friend, and then lives out his Werewolf Jesus fantasies and delusions of grandeur through his friends’ suffering.

Instead of growing, Scott got reasons he should be allowed to be an asshole. He lies because “he has to”. He’s violent because “You may be an alpha, but you are not mine!” He’s abusive because his victims provoke him. He’s cruel because he is a werewolf. He’s jealous and possessive because he’s in love.

With characters like Scott McCall, the point isn’t for him to improve and overcome his problems. It’s for other characters to make allowances for his problems. In its fan service, the show let him stay the same entitled little boy he always was. Even in the final episode, he gleefully ruins his friends’ chance to have a life outside of him and of Beacon Hills just because he needs their help to save his own cowardly ass once again. Scott literally ends the show being his usual toxic self and recruiting traumatized children to fight his own battles. Hell, the rare times Scott did show character growth, like finally admitting he’s utterly useless when left to his own devices, his stans reacted with anger, because how dare they have Scott admit he can’t even plan his way out of paper bag without his smarter than everyone friends’ constant help and support?!

This leads to Season 5, where Scott once again lashed out at Stiles, blamed Stiles for his own mistakes, dehumanized Stiles for defending himself against his abuser, gaslit Stiles, tried to isolate Stiles from his support system, accused Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and a serial killer, and then acted as if he was the victim. And then of course Scott lies and plays up an injury that had long healed for six episodes straight just to convince his friends not to abandon him again because “I healed when we were together again. Where we were pack.” That is exactly what Scott/Posey fans wanted though: a character who can get away with this crap yet still be seen as a woobie and hero at the same time.

Then people wonder why Teen Wolf fans, critics, and viewers (and the actors themselves) come to despise Scott McCall and see him as everything wrong in fandom. It’s because Scott brought down the show by undermining its themes and other characters whenever the show, due to Posey’s jealous fits and temper tantrums, let him get away with the things like attacking Corey and plotting Josh and Tracy’s murder begins everyone’s back. When the show let him constantly insult Stiles and Derek, without giving Stiles and Derek a chance to push back at him. When the show let Scott abuse Isaac, and acted as if it was okay for Scott to do so because it was done in a humorous way. When the show let Scott sell Derek and his Pack out to Gerard and then justify it. When the show let Scott sacrifice Erica and Boyd to look good in Allison’s eyes and never called him out on it. When the show let Scott be abusive, and mean, and a bully, and acted as if those scenes were ok because Scott was a “true alpha”.

When you dare to criticize Scott’s abusive behavior, his delusional squad will excuse it by yelling “but Scott is a Mexican boy!” (he is not), or “Scott is depressed!” (he is not), or “Scott is poor!” (he is not), or “Scott is the most important character of Teen Wolf!” (he is not), as if that somehow makes Scott’s behavior okay, never realizing how racist and insulting that is to real Mexican people who aren’t complete assholes to everyone around them the way that Scott is.

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This is a great piece of meta. Very well thought out and presented. Tell a friend. 

[andhumanslovedstories]

Thinking about Outer Wilds and explaining the entire game to my mom on my drive home from work has helped clarify what I like so much about it: it’s a story that absolutely depends upon the medium it is in. Outer Wilds is nothing without actually playing it (although I would be curious about experiencing it solely through watching someone else). It wouldn’t work as a movie or a book or a concept album or anything, it has to be played and explored directly. The play, the story, and the themes are absolutely interdependent on each other. 

(spoilers! for like all of it)

You start the game thinking that the point is to figure out how to stop the sun from exploding, and you spend time loop after time loop exploring the world in pursuit of information that will help you do that. And also you suck at everything. (This is the part where I should clarify that I am speaking in second person but absolutely meaning first person.) You suck at moving in space, you suck at navigating the different gravities, you suck at figuring out where to go, you suck as surviving long enough to even see the sun explode. And then you learn more, you get more practice, you stop autopiloting into the sun every other loop. There’s no progression mechanic or upgrades; the other thing that improves is you. Your skill and insight into the world is the progression mechanic. 

And then, after you start to piece together your theory that this ancient species planned to trigger a supernova and that’s what is causing this, you find out that their attempts didn’t work and could never work. No one made the sun explode. It’s just the natural end of the solar system. Which makes sense because suns all across the universe are exploding. Like it’s the universe’s time to die. 

And then you’re like “oh but the Eye of the Universe, this thing that predates the universe and is all mysterious and Quantum, that will be what saves us,” so you go to the Eye of the Universe. And you go there, and it doesn’t save you. You get together with your friends one last time and you play yourself off. And the universe ends, and then it restarts, a long long long time after you and everyone you know, and to reiterate you and everyone you know are dead and there’s nothing you can do to stop this. 

You spend the entire game flouting death, fighting death, sure that there’s some plot or scheme or button labeled “no” that you can press, and you can’t. The galaxy is small enough to fly across in minutes, and it’s still so much vaster than you, and it’s still just a small fraction of everything, and it’s all going to die. The structure of the game is dying and it not being real, and the end of the game is dying and everyone and everything dying and that being how this was always going to end, because that’s what the universe does. 

And the game becomes this argument that death does not invalidate what came before it. The exploration, the play, it mattered regardless of purpose. It was worth learning about the world that is going to end no matter what. The only progression is what you learn and the skill you gain. The sense of agency that comes with playing butts against the ultimate limitation of agency, the inevitability--no matter what you do--of death. Either untimely death from outside causes, as with the case of the Nomai, or what we might call natural causes--a solar system dying of old age. It’s tragic for the individual Hearthean. But for the world as a whole? What better ending could you have for your solar system? What more graceful, less frightening end of life? Isn’t dying of old age after a full life the happiest of all endings? 

And for me, the way that ending forces you to reconceptualize your value of the play also made me think harder about the ending as an aspect of the play. Death not as an external force coming to end the story and the fun but an internal, fixed aspect. The argument that playing (or more metaphorically, living) does not become meaningless in the absence of a traditional victory (or in the presence of death) also ends up making a case for the value of that ending (you know, death) in and of itself. No matter what you do, the universe is going to end and you are going to die and that isn’t anyone’s fault. That’s a feature, not a bug. 

You could discuss the same ideas and themes in other mediums, but the interactivity, the agency and self-direction, even the traditional expectations of what video games entail define the way that those ideas and themes come out. Outer Wilds (oh fuck hold on I just thought of this sentence) uses video games as a vehicle to explore the universe (yee haw it’s a theme and a pun) in a way that was sometimes more fascinating and meaningful than fun, but very much worthwhile. Anyway fuck those anglerfish I’m glad they died and I hope it hurt