#like. your best friend is incredibly fucking volatile and very obviously wants to and is intending to run himself into the ground

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Feel like making people miserable today. Anyways, here's Gon experiencing like. Textbook symptoms of trauma in the CAA, in case there was any lingering doubt about this or anything:

Initial denial that the experience happened or was traumatic

[ID: A screenshot from episode 85 of HxH 2011. Gon, eyes bright and with a smile, says "Kite is alive!" End ID.]

Flashbacks

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 95, and a third from episode 110. In the first, Kite's arm is shown in the foreground, bleeding and blurred. In the second, a close of Pitou's wide eyes, looking animalistic. In the last, puppet Kite's mangled and scarred face stares emptily ahead - the scene is greyed out. End ID.]

Intense distress at real or symbolic reminders of the trauma

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 116. In the first, Gon's fist can be seen in the foreground, with Pitou shielding an unconscious Komugi just barely seen. The narrator says "The girl lying before them brought back". In the second, Komugi has a medical respirator on. The narrator continues "images of a broken Kite to Gon's mind". End ID.]

Physical sensations such as pain, sweating, nausea or trembling

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. Gon's fists slam into the ground as he says "That isn't fair...". Sweat drips down his arms. End ID.]

Extreme alertness/hypervigilance

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. Part of Pitou can be seen in the foreground as Gon stares at them intensely, crouched on the ground with his arm resting on his knee, obscuring his lower face. End ID.]

Angry outbursts or other extreme behaviour

[ID: Two screenshots, one from episode 116, and the other from episode 127. In the first, Gon shouts "Is something wrong with you?!" as his face contorts with rage. His aura floats black around him. In the second, Gon, his face shadowed eerily with thin lines, says "The next time you try to delay me, I'll kill her." End ID.]

Feeling like you have to keep busy

[ID: A screenshot from episode 94. A close up of Gon's face from the side as he says "I want to focus on my training." End ID.]

Doing things that are reckless and self-destructive

[ID: Three screenshots, one from episode 95 and the other two from episode 131. The first is stylized as a black outline of Gon's figure over a background like parchment or a projector - he's been hit in the face and sent to the right from the force of the blow. The second is a close up of Gon's face, almost completely shadowed, with intense and vacant eyes - he says "I don't care". The third continues with a close up of his eye filling with darkness - "if this is the end..." End ID.]

Feeling like nobody understands ("since it means nothing to you")

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. In a whitish-room with a crack on the wall between them, Gon stands ahead of Killua, facing away from him. They are both in shadow. End ID.]

Ignoring offers of help and shutting out loved ones... poor Killua :(

[ID: A screenshot from episode 136. A spotlight on both Killua, in the foreground, and Gon, walking away from him in the background. Killua thinks "I wanted you to ask for my help in defeating Pitou!" End ID.]

Self-loathing, self-punishment, and lack of self regard

[ID: Three screenshots, two from episode 110 and the third from episode 131. The first is a close up of Gon's face over Morel asking "When would you try to hurt yourself?" The second is a continuation. Morel looks down at Gon who is facing away from the camera as Gon replies "When I couldn't forgive myself." In the last, adult Gon, staring ahead, is animated in black and white with the only colour being the blood from the stump of his right arm. His left hand grips his shoulder. End ID.]

Blaming yourself for what happened

[ID: Two screenshots, one from episode 95 and the other from episode 130. In the first, Gon hugs puppet Kite around his waist. In the second, Gon stares blankly ahead with tears streaming down his face as he thinks "I killed Kite." End ID.]

Overwhelming feelings of anger, sadness, guilt, and shame

[a-n-conrad]

Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)

[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex

Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]

You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.

You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.

It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.

Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.

You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.

Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.

He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.

But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.

He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.

- - - - -

You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.

And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.

He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.

It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.

“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”

You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”

He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”

He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”

He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.

“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”

Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.

He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.

���I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.

“We’ll see about that, kitten.”

- - - - -

You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.

His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.

He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.

He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.

It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.

“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.

There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.

“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.

“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.

“Ask nicely.”

You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”

You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.

“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”

You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”

He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.

You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.

The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.

With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”

You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.

You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.

You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.

Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.

He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.

He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.

“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”

He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.

After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”

And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.

(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)

[ailuronymy]

I doubt you'll remember this, because it happened such a long time ago, but it's been bothering me for years now and I wanted to get some closure on it. Many years ago, when I was 14, pretty new to roleplaying and completely new to Tumblr, I sent you an anonymous ask laughing about ridiculous unrealistic things that people were having their cats do in a roleplay I was in. Building blanket forts, among other things, and being transgender. At this point in my life I thought transgender only meant someone who had undergone gender affirmation surgery, and the idea of cats doing surgery on one another was hilarious to me. I shared it with the hope that other people would find it hilarious too. Instead, you told me that I had said The Wrong Thing and called me a bigot. I was confused, I was horrified, I didn't understand at all, and I more or less fled from tumblr for about two years. It was a formative experience for me.

Hello there. I do actually remember that post, although obviously since you were anon then as well, I didn’t remember you specifically. But I do remember. 

I thought about how to answer this ask for a few days. I’m not sure exactly what it is you’re looking for from me, but I’m going to give you the best reply I can and I hope that’s good enough for the both of us. 

When you wrote in to me, about eight years ago, I was younger than you are now. I was nineteen and I’d only been on tumblr for a bit over a year at that point, I think. I’d never had social media before, of any kind. It was all pretty new to me as an experience too, and I’d never expected this blog to get the attention that it did. I never even imagined that was a possibility. But it happened and I learned how to run a relatively popular ask blog on the job, as it were. 

There’s a lot I regret when I look back on that early era of this blog. The humour and jokes I allowed and sometimes encouraged and said myself here was often not kind, and that’s something I really regret. Eventually, I put an end to that because it just wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted any of us who have fun here to be doing. But I absolutely allowed it to happen for a long time first, and that’s on me. 

Also at that same time, there was a particular way of interacting on tumblr that was very popular. It was a lot of exuberance and hyperbole and insults, and being rude for fun, and overall very over-the-top and often harsh or just plain uncaring that there was someone else at the other end of the message. For everyone who was here in 2012, I think you can probably remember what it was like. It wasn’t a nice mode of communication, but it was popular and got great responses and a lot of people found it fun to read. For a couple of years after I started Ailuronymy, I was absolutely guilty of buying into it and acting this way, until I finally hated it enough to stop. It wasn’t who I wanted to be, in general or on this blog specifically. It felt mean and inauthentic and I wanted to be better. But I did act like that for a long time, and that was a choice I made. 

I’m not saying any of this because I want to make excuses for myself. I’m more aware than anyone else of the problems early on in this blog’s history, and it’s something I regret and wish I could go back to do differently with the knowledge and experience I have now. Unfortunately, I can’t change the past. I can only own up to it and do better going forward. 

I’m sorry for the tone I often used, including to you in that post, and I’m sorry that because of that behaviour, you felt scared and unwelcome here. That’s a failure on my part. I shouldn’t have used the tone I did, or assumed I had to take a defensive, intense stance the way I did. It’s very sad to me to know that because I did that, you were frightened and decided to leave. 

However, I would like to share my context too. Because at the time, I was nineteen years old (which I know probably sounds ancient to younger teens, but it’s not, really), and a bisexual guy (which I still am, obviously), and Ailuronymy was already a place that people (especially queer people) in the fandom were looking to for support and education. Insofar as this blog was developing a niche, that was it. I felt a significant amount of responsibility to champion and defend the people this blog was made for. 

2012 was also a time when the Warriors fandom on tumblr was genuinely very homophobic, and also quite volatile. It was common for people to be very angry (in general, and often at me) for saying that ableism isn’t okay, or that Warriors characters can be trans, or sometimes just “canon naming doesn’t make much sense.” I got quite a lot of hate mail--also sometimes just... confused, angry mail, for this naming system or any of the political things I talked about--and I was doing the best I could with what I had to give. A lot of what I learned during my years of running this blog came from making mistakes, but I always did my best.

The reason I’m bringing this up is because what you actually said was: “these cats can be homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender--don’t even ask me how that’s possible. I don’t want to know.” You came to me, a queer man, running a blog that in no small part is about how queerness is allowed to exist in this fandom and is in fact not implausible, during a time when the fandom as a whole was solidly anti-queer, with something like that. Like you said, you shared it with me--and the readers here--because you hoped we would find it hilarious and unrealistic too. 

But I didn’t, because, to me, that’s just what a lot of the fandom already was. It was a hostile environment that regularly argued that queer characters, or people, had no place here. That was the kind of things people on anon fairly often came to yell in my inbox about how I’m wrong, etc. etc., and how I’m bad, etc. etc. 

I reacted defensively, which I wouldn’t do now, because I’m much older, and I have experience and confidence I just didn’t then. At the time, though, what I heard in your ask was “queer characters are absurd and don’t belong here, don’t correct me,” and that is what I reacted to. I’m sure for you, it felt scary and disproportionate, and as I said before, I wish I had handled things differently, and gentler. 

But I don’t disagree with what I said. The points I made weren’t wrong. And my response--although not how I would respond now--was not wrong, even though it hurt you. It genuinely is horrible to know that because of my lack of tact, you were scared. It was also horrible to receive your ask at the time, just like many of the rest. It wasn’t hypothetical to me, because I’m queer. It was about me, and other people I care about very much.

The fact I’m queer is probably news to you, and you were new tumblr and probably didn’t know what was going on in the fandom, and maybe you would have said something different if you knew all this. 

Likewise, though, you were on anon and I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know you were fourteen. I didn’t know you were asking in good faith, and not just another one of the homophobic fans thinking you’d found a friend in me, which frankly felt a bit insulting. I didn’t know you were and, again, although I wish I did more back then and was kinder in my approach, I didn’t have insight into your intentions. I also didn’t have the maturity for that not to matter.

That said, even in my very imperfect answer I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I specifically said:

“Before you think I’m victimising you - I’m not. This is not personal right now; currently, this is a mistake on your part, and I understand that mistakes are incredibly easy to make. If, by the end of my post, you get where you went wrong here, then it will be like this ask of yours never happened and I will forget you ever said it. I don’t like to hold any kind of grudge if there’s any way to avoid it, and an acknowledgement of where you went wrong here would completely fix everything about this.”

&

“So what you’re saying when you say that you don’t believe that “homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender” cats are possible in the context of Warriors is, basically, that you’re a bigot. I am really sorry to say that, because the chances are - I sincerely hope - that you aren’t. You’re a good person. You’re a good person who said something bigoted by mistake. And if you don’t believe what you’ve said is a mistake yet, let me show you some interesting true facts about our world.“

Because I know how easy it is to make mistakes and how hard it is to get everything right all the time, and know everything, and never do something dumb or hurtful. It’s easy to fuck up. I’ve done it a lot. The answer I gave you back then is just one example.

That what you took from my answer was only fear and confusion isn’t something in my control, however. I hate that that’s what happened, and I regret not being who I am now back then, but even though I did fuck up back then, I still did what I could at the time to mitigate the damage and reassure you that a mistake doesn’t define you. I am sorry it wasn’t enough for you to feel okay coming back. But I can’t say I’m sorry for telling you that coming to me on my blog with that kind of mentality is something I’ll tolerate at all. 

Ultimately, I’m sorry that our experience of each other was not a good one. I’m sorry that your memory of me is someone scary and mean, and that you felt you had to leave this site entirely for two years because of it. I regret that my actions left you with such a negative experience, because that was never my intention, even though the way I handled things with you was very poor. 

I hope you’re able to find the closure you’re looking for and I genuinely wish you all the best. 

[quidfree]

can you Please write the scene with bakugou's piercing SGDHEFEH the concept is too funny to me !!!

anon you’re lucky 報復性熬夜 is a concept i am firmly attached to so here i am at 1 am rattling this off instead of getting my beauty sleep. please excuse the standard of writing as a result

by the second day, katsuki is seriously considering agreeing to todoroki’s earlier and ambiguously sincere proposal that they play i spy.

he doesn’t know what it is about this particular job that’s so unbearable. no, scratch that- of course he knows what’s unbearable; it’s sat right next to him on a too-small chair in their too-small room staring impassively out of a too-small window. but he’s been thrown into so much shit with icyhot you’d think he’d developed some kind of immunity by now, the way vaccines microdose you on viruses so you can resist the real thing. call katsuki an antivaxxer, he guesses, because he has overdosed on todoroki ever since he met the asshole and he’s still not ready for how far up the wall he’s driving him when they’re stuck together for two straight days without a breather or any contact with the outside world.

cards on the table: stake-outs aren’t his thing. he does them just fine, fuck you very much, but he doesn’t like ‘em. why would he? they’re some ungodly blend of extremely boring and extremely tense, where nothing happens right up until way too long into it and then everything goes to shit unprompted. it’s rare he ever gets called in on jobs like this- people tend to assume he lacks the temperament for it, for one, and for another he’s too useful to lock away for days on end. it’s only because their suspected target is so insanely volatile and dangerous that it’s the two of them waiting for her to show her ugly face- no one else is even allowed in the perimeter. which is fucking fine, but he just wishes the cops would get their shit together for once and actually have the proof ready by the time they call the pros in so he doesn’t have to wait before he goes in guns blazing. instead they talked some bullshit about how critical of a stage this was and blah blah fifteen years of (obviously mediocre) work had gone into setting this trap, etc etc. the point is that it’s led to katsuki stuck in the world’s most disgusting little apartment, staring out of a splintered window for two-going-on-three days with no one but the world’s most annoying prodigy to keep him company. the place is such a dump they’re sleeping on mats in sleeping bags. it’s like fucking UA summer camp, and at this point he’d take the kidnapping over the waiting.

day one wasn’t so bad, right up until he realized there would be a day two. day two is bad from start to finish. they’re supposed to take turns on watch but there’s fuck all else to do except sit on their phones, and katsuki can only quote tweet so much dumb shit before he gets bored. he can’t talk to anyone outside because of confidentiality bullshit, and there’s no point checking work shit when he can’t do anything from where they are. so it’s either silently watching the warehouse or talking to todoroki, and todoroki is a fucking terrible conversationalist.

the thing with icyhot is this: katsuki doesn’t hate him, okay. like, he hates him, but also not really. they’re, at a push, maybe, sort of, friends. verging on close ones. not that he’d say so, but after the amount of dramatic self-sacrifices and final stands against a joint enemy they’ve endured he can’t really muster the energy to argue otherwise. todoroki’s tolerable, sort of maybe. usually katsuki borderline likes working with him, because if nothing else he’s good at what he does, and they know each other too well to be anything but in sync in the field. if they were doing almost anything else he’d be relieved at the choice of pairing.

they are not, however, doing anything else, and todoroki still fucking sucks at talking like a normal person. when he’d woken katsuki up for his shift of night-watch he’d loomed over him ominously like a fucking ghoul and said, voice belying no humor: “do you think plants can feel pain?”

there’s fucking nothing to talk about. anything interesting is essentially vetoed because it’d inevitably distract them from the whole intent observation thing, and katsuki hates small talk on a normal day but especially when todoroki’s doing his ‘alien attempting earth dialect’ bit and asking him about weather or the tokyo transportation system or whatever. so they just sit in semi-silence and occasionally go on very stupid tangents katsuki is glad no one can witness and remain overall bored out of their fucking skulls.

by day three they’ve already exhausted i spy and also the alphabet game and hangman, and katsuki draws the line at tic-tac-toe. todoroki looks implacable as always but his eye has started twitching a little. katsuki tries to think of literally anything that could plausibly take up their time and not take their eyes off the window, comes up short. twister is not a good idea even ignoring their lack of a board. shop talk is so very tempting, but he’s not losing this villain and wasting two days’ suffering because they get carried away on some long-winded discussion, so that’s not an option either.

“how’s your ear?” todoroki says, and at first katsuki thinks he’s really fucking lost it if he’s started asking after the wellbeing of his individual body parts, but then he remembers the last time they saw each other katsuki was throwing himself into the path of some jackass with a trumpeting quirk who nearly blew out his eardrum, so he guesses half ‘n half’s not entirely insane yet. he shrugs, shifts in his chair.

“fine. couldn’t hear shit from it for like three straight days, though. and my balance was fucked.”

“it hasn’t scarred at all.”

“yeah. lame place for a scar,” katsuki says, flexing his fingers absently. they’re all of them more roughed up than they were at UA, but talent and good healers have kept him mostly intact, give or take a few big nasties like the time he got gutted in first year or his near loss of an eye around graduation. privately he suspects genetics have dealt him a good hand, what with his gene donor’s perfect skin, but then todoroki doesn’t have that excuse and he’s not scarred anywhere ugly except the obvious, though katsuki could point blind to most of the nasties he’s accumulated under his suit.

not that he thinks about what’s under todoroki’s suit. god, he needs to get out of here.

“i don’t know,” todoroki is saying now, thoughtful. “a lot of people have ear-scars, no? from piercings.”

“that’s different,” katsuki says, immediately contrarian, even as he thinks about it. by the warehouse a truck stalls, but then moves on, lessening his momentary excitement. “most people don’t let that shit heal. unless you’re a moron there’s no point getting a hole jabbed through your ear if you’re not sure you want it.”

“would you?” todoroki asks, mildly curious, and taps his ear where katsuki can see him in the window’s reflection. “get a piercing, i mean.”

“what’s it to you?”

todoroki rolls his eyes at him like he’s being pointlessly difficult, which he maybe is a little. “i don’t know. i think it would suit you.”

“yeah?” katsuki sniffs, mollified and trying not to show it. it’s always a mistake to let icyhot know when his obvious ploys are working. “been thinking about it?”

“i can hardly sleep at night for thinking about it,” todoroki deadpans, which makes katsuki scowl and stomp down on the extremely unwarranted flush crawling up his neck in response.

“fuck off. i guess i’d do like one or two.”

“really? you always say no to tattoos.”

“that’s different. i don’t trust some asshole to draw a fucking infinity sign on my knee or whatever. sticking a hole through an ear is hard to fuck up, and you barely register it after. if you get a shitty tattoo you have to think about it all the time.”

“if it’s easy then why don’t you have any?” todoroki asks, but he sounds genuinely curious more than like he’s trying to catch him out, so katsuki thinks about it honestly.

“don’t have the time. ‘s not like i can really afford to pencil in an afternoon to the nearest parlor or whatever just for that.”

“i read you can pierce your ears with a needle.”

“i guess i haven’t fucking thought about it that much, then,” katsuki grumbles, forever irked by todoroki’s smart mouth. problem solver his ass. the guy goes around making problems for everyone.

they sit in silence for a beat, watching the breeze rattle the wooden planks barricading a window opposite them, and then he thinks needle, and does some very quick mental arithmetics to reach the conclusion that todoroki is probably also landing on, judging by the way he blinks when katsuki briefly glances his way. 

he thinks about the job, and how close he’d come to throttling todoroki during i spy, and the great dawning nothingness ahead of them for fuck knows how long still. at the very worst, they have to start moving with a needle in his ear. 

“pass me your medikit.”

todoroki does, but when katsuki unzips the pack he shifts. “it’d be easier if i did it.”

“it’s not rocket science,” katsuki mutters, considering the needle critically before glancing back out of the window. “'s not like i give a shit about precise location.”

“i’m just saying i wouldn’t have to go in blind. and you can keep watch while i do it.”

“or you can keep watch while i do. same shit.”

todoroki only shakes his head, because unlike some people who shall not be named he is not so incredibly psychosexually attached to offering help where it isn’t wanted. “fine.”

katsuki eyes the window, squints at his ear. tissue’s the best bet- he thinks he could probably manage cartilage fine, but on the off chance they have to drop everything and run he doesn’t want to accidentally snap a bone and start the fight inconvenienced. lobe it is.

“wait,” todoroki says, just when he’s focused, and then reaches over without removing his gaze from the window to press two fingers to the needle, tip going blisteringly red-hot before he releases it. cauterised. their kit’s sterilised anyway, but katsuki grunts his begrudging thanks, repositions himself. 

“wait,” todoroki says again, and this time katsuki can’t help but turn to glare at him where he’s still watchfully staring outside.

“fucking what, icyhot?”

“two seconds,” todoroki promises, gaze flickering his way for half a second with something like self-effacing amusement before he turns his eyes dutifully away and reaches his other arm around to pinch his ear, which flares cold so quickly katsuki hisses even as his cheeks heat. fucking weirdo.

“could’ve just said,” he mutters, ignoring his not at all jumpy pulse to refocus on the task at hand as todoroki does that obnoxious lip-twitch thing that means he’s smiling internally. 

physics dictates that he keep his wrist at an angle if he wants the needle to come out right, so he does, braces and jabs. it goes so easy he almost doubts his own success, not even the slightest twinge of pain ensuing. he twists for good measure, removes the needle, watches tiny beads of blood emerge from the piercing. 

well, that was anticlimactic, katsuki thinks, retrieving an anti-bacterial wipe for the needle, and then pauses, staring at the window.

“motherfucker.”

“what?”

“what the fuck am i supposed to put through this?”

todoroki’s mismatched eyes go gratifyingly wide in the window, and for one spectacularly braindead moment two of the world’s most outstanding pro-heroes stare at one another in a shitty broken window with equal amounts of retroactive dismay. 

“um,” todoroki says, or as close to ‘um’ as todoroki will ever say. katsuki wishes dearly he was still of an age where he could throw him through a wall. then his eyes focus elsewhere, sharpening with what could pass as professional focus but is mostly naked relief. “um.”

um in-fucking-deed. by the warehouse, a door has just opened a sliver.

“you owe me a fucking earring,” katsuki declares, but so fast it lacks any aggression, already halfway out the window by the time he finishes speaking, atrophied limbs reviving with an ecstatic chemical burn as fresh air hits their faces. 

god. if he ever gets stuck on stake-out duty again he’s sleeping by himself under a parked car or some shit. 

they make disgustingly quick work of the fight, in the end, days of pent-up frustration and skull-numbing boredom leaving them so bursting with power that it’s almost embarrassing for the villain, but when the first kow-towing police officer reaches them full of praise and suggestion that they handle another job he has queued up they chorus a ‘no’ so violent the guy actually jumps. 

todoroki’s not so bad, katsuki thinks fondly, watching his face slide into frigid blankness with absolutely no idea of how shitless he’s scaring the officers around them. it’s almost enough to make him forget to kick his ass for the enormously shitty banter he’d had to endure vis-a-vis his still-bleeding ear throughout the entire tragically short fight.

almost. not quite. who even knew there was a ‘gay ear’?

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Forget me? Forget us. - B. Hargrove

Inspired by ‘Forget me too’ by MGK and Halsey. I love this song and it has been stuck in my head all day and I couldn’t think of anything but a toxic relationship with billy. This isn’t a happy story, but it is a sad reality of some relationships. Some people are so bad for each other yet their love is too intense. “I love you so much that I hate you” describes this perfectly.

Gif is not mine, nor are the lyrics used within the song or Billy Hargrove. Hope you enjoy!

Let me know if you want to join the Billy taglist, or my general tag list!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

TW: This story contains an intense description of a very toxic relationship. In no way do I condone this kind of relationship and I recommend seeking help if you are in a relationship like this and you fear for your safety or that of another.

Billy was dangerous. So was Y/N. She was cold, he was burning hot. They were powerful separate, a raging storm together.

They were made to love one another, but not made to be in love with one another. They were furious, passionate, loving, angry, fearful, high on possibility.

They were inseparable, but couldn’t bare to be with one another.

They were purely paradoxical, and they loved every heart aching second of it.

They had broken up once again, their love blowing up in a fury of broken objects and obscenities. One of their distant friends from high school decided to throw a party, despite her status as post-high school adults. Billy was in attendance, obviously.

Y/N had yet to show up. Her absence elated him, and disappointed him. He loved her. He loved her so much that he couldn’t stand to be around her, for he was too scared to lose it.

Their love was temporary, yet the temporary was permanent.

They were always going to fall apart. They were always going to become one again. They would fall apart soon after. It was a viscous cycle of heartbreak and hopeless love.

He waited for her, drink in hand, clad in tight jeans and a white tank top. His staple denim jacket was missing.

Another woman - Bethany, Billy thought her name was - stood awfully close to him, her bony hand resting on his arm as she spoke. He had no idea what she was saying, he had zoned out almost as soon as she approached him. He had little care to listen to her prattle on. His mind was waiting for one person.

Bethany kept chattering and Billy fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was showing zero interest, yet the woman would not shut up.

Well, she hadn’t, until a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her entire body backwards, until she fell flat on her behind.

Y/N stood behind her, Billy’s jacket draped over her shoulders and a look of pure fury in her eyes.

I saw you walk in the room and I tried my best
Not to panic while I'm lookin' for the back door,

I smelled the perfume and it's obvious, i'm gonna stay and put my key in the bag more.

She wasn’t directing it towards Bethany, no. She was locked and loaded right on Billy.

Flight or fight kicked in, and Billy panicked, but only for a minute.

She looked divine. Wearing his jacket, marks on her neck from their last positive encounter on show for everybody to see.

She smelled like perfection, her chocolate scented perfume drawing him in, filling his senses with her.

She drove him crazy, made him more furious than he could comprehend. They would fight, they would love, they would fall apart.

Her hand connected with his face, yet he wasn’t angry. No. He connected his lips with hers, feeling her fingers slide through his hair. All eyes were on them, yet everybody had seen this scene before.

They were possessive, they were horrible to one another and others, but god help anybody who messed with their relationship. Only they could crumble the walls that they build.

She pulled back from him, smirking, watching as he bit his lip with temptation.

“Missed me baby?” She winked at him, allowing his body to pull hers along as he grabbed her hand and started leading her outside.

She may be the reason that his small apartment had a broken window and multiple holes in the wall, but he sure as hell didn’t hesitate to follow her to wherever she led.

The alcohol wore off by the time he woke, his head pounding and his vision spinning.

Her leg was stung over his own, both of them as bare as the day they were born. He rose carefully, moving her body from his as gently as he could.

However, in his efforts to make it out without waking her, he dropped his belt, and the clatter of the buckle on the hardwood floor caused her to snap awake.

It escalated quickly.

You want me to forget you? Okay, forget me too.

You tell me you hate me, baby, yeah, I bet you do

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Hargrove!” She shoved at his shoulder, trying to get past him so she could get to the bathroom. He was blocking her way.

“Oh, of course. I’m the asshole.” He snarled, a smile on his face. You’re the one who starts screaming at me, but I’m the one in the wrong!”

“You’re in the wrong because you ducking broke up with me, then tried to skip out before I woke up.” Her hands were in her hair, grasping at the roots. “You’re so fucking selfish. I’m waiting around constantly for you, but I make you wait one fucking time and you’re throwing a tantrum!”

“You left me waiting for an hour, Y/N! What, were you out with Tommy? What about Stevie? You always had a soft spot for him.” They were malicious. They knew how to hurt one another and they both knew it.

“God, you’re such a joke.” She laughed in his face, shoving her shoulder against his so she could grab her stuff from the bathroom. “Sometimes I wish I could forget I ever fucking met you, Billy.”

“You wouldn’t survive without me holding your hand, princess.” He snarled, perfect lips turning up to show perfect teeth.

They connected once again, pulling at one another, crashing into the wall, the door frame, the bed.

“I hate your fucking guts,” she growled, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I know you do, baby.” He flipped them over so his body was covering her own and connecting his lips to hers once again.

I've wasted so much time waitin' around for your phone calls every night

She would sit by the phone every night, waiting for his call. She would excuse some night, knowing if his terrible home life, but when he got his own place, he rarely called, rarely picked up the phone.

She spent so many days, so many nights, waiting up on him.

She got her own back at him.

He was taking her to see a new movie, planning to meet her at the arcade next to the theatre at 6 o’clock. He had to drop the bratty step-sister off, so he figured two birds.

He waited there until an hour later, the movie already beginning. He was seething. He hated being stood up, and she knew it.

Y/N arrived at the theatre 15 minutes later, but there was no Billy in sight, nor his sleek camaro.

She drove to his apartment, furious yet also proud. She gave him a taste of his own medicine, and she couldn’t wait to see how frustrated he was. She hated hurting him, but he hurt her just as bad.

We'd both be better off alone.

Still think I'd get you on the phone with one last breath in me.

I'd die before I let you leave

He had already downed five beers by the time she got there. It was rare for her to see him sober, and it was rare for him to see her while he was sober.

It escalated as soon as she walked in the door, slamming the heavy wood behind her.

“I was waiting for you and you didn’t bother to fucking show up!” He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in her direction. She hated when he smoked, she despised the smell of nicotine on his breath but found the sight of him smoking to be incredibly attractive.

She fell for his bad boy side, and found home in his caring heart and troubled personality. It was a broken home but she couldn’t bare to leave.

The argument grew more and more, she threw a phone book at him, sending it through the window in his living room.

“I’m done. I’m sick of the bullshit, Y/N. We’re fucking better off alone!” He slammed his hand on the table, silencing her shouts of obscenities at him.

She laughed, slumping down onto the beat up couch. They had been saving money every paycheck to get him some new furniture. Y/N had also been putting money away to get her own apartment, despite Billy’s offer for her to live with him.

Such a volatile and temporary relationship couldn’t withstand constantly being in the presence of one another.

“We would die before we ever give up on one another, Billy.”

Tell me why you do the things that make me hate you,

It's an emotional kaleidoscope when I face you,

Permanent calligraphy, I just tattooed your name on me forever, fuck

Y/N and Billy love each other intensely, but they also know exactly how to make the other hate them.

It was a horrible cycle, yet nobody could make them happier than the person they hated the most.

Even if they wanted to forget one another, they could never forget the love they shared.

Tag List: @snookiebrookie (because you’re always so kind)

Let me know if you want to join the billy taglist!

[kissimirrit]

as an ex truscum how did you come to terms with the harm youve caused others and make up for it? do you still struggle with unlearning truscum standards?

i think it’s important i don’t hide or censor my past, no matter how embarrassed or regretful i might be from it. people have the right to know about someone’s past bigotry and to decide their boundaries with that person from that point on. i think it’s an important part of my past for people to know of when the topic comes up.

i stopped being truscum almost 5 years ago; and yes—i still struggle with unlearning truscum standards, because i learned them during my formative years of development. because of that, i really vibe with the saying "The first thought that goes through your mind is what you have been conditioned to think; what you think next defines who you are." —because i’ll still catch myself thinking very... exclusionary things and have to stop and reflect why i’m thinking that, and then correct my thoughts accordingly. it’s forever a process of self-reflection and checking. 

(read-more’d for length) tl;dr—i realized being truscum was bad and then i became a die-hard inclusionist, and even began identifying with labels that 2012 me would hate.

i only really came to terms with the fact i was causing harm in say, late 2016 or *very* early 2017 when one of my most treasured friends admitted to me that xe was afraid to tell me xe was nonbinary, because we both had identified as truscum and xe was in the process of dropping those beliefs, whereas i hadn’t gotten to that point myself until xe told me about hir identity and reason for being afraid of telling me. and if one of my best friends felt terrified of telling me their identity, or literally anything about themselves; then obviously i was fucking up big time and doing something incredibly wrong.

so that was like, my first step in dropping those beliefs. and making up for it has been an incredibly long road. dropping all forms of gate-keeping, queer-separatism, and otherwise exclusionary beliefs in favor of becoming a radically inclusive person of any good-faith identity, to the point of even adopting some “discoursed” labels myself (ie: straight-lesbian trans man) has been a 5 year long journey. 

i started identifying as truscum when i was 13 or 14, back in 2011 or 2012 when the word was first coined. there was a tumblr post, calling those who were binary trans people and (forgive me my memory is fuzzy) didn’t hate cis people as “true transexual scum. truescum.” and the term truscum stuck from that. and back then the community was really small. there was just a handful of us in the FTM tag telling other trans guys that they can’t identify as lesbians and that they should stop tagging their selfies as both “FTM” and “lesbian”. (which is funny to me now because... i literally identify as an ftm lesbian now lmaaooo. i became the very thing i set out to destroy /lh).

and being truscum was kind of a catalyst for so many of the early exclusionary queer-separatism and incorporating radfem beliefs into early lgbt+ tumblr that i never really noticed until ace discourse got notoriously bad in 2016. 1. nonbinary-exclusion. back in 2012/2013 ‘trans’ used to be written as ‘trans*’, with the asterisk, for the inclusion of nonbinary identities. and at the time, truscum were notoriously against it because at the time, truscum believed that nonbinary identities weren’t real, so the asterisk was unnecessary and useless. and then an article came along that went into detail about how the asterisk was useless BECAUSE nonbinary people were inherently trans without any caveats, and ‘trans’ (without the asterisk) was already inclusive on nonbinary folk, not just binary trans men and women. so that kinda trickled down and eventually became the end of trans* asterisk, and after that an influx of nonbinary folks started to identify as truscum—however a lot of people who identified as truscum prior to this still held heavily anti-nonbinary beliefs. (and then truscum got kinda blamed for adding the asterisk in the first place so that kinda became an in-joke for a year or so. like, things truscum invented: the asterisk after trans asterisk, the word truscum, whales. etc)  2. transmisogyny, and adopting radfem talking points. i know in the early days (and probably still now, but i don’t know the demographics as i never kept up with them), the majority of truscum before 2014 were white, and binary trans men. (emphasis on the white trans men part.) Because of this, whenever there was a collective schism with a notable trans woman for whatever reason (adele idislikecispeople, genderpunkrock, kat blaque, etc. were all big ones during 2014), transmisogyny would be rampant. there were groups dedicated to somehow proving idislikecispeople was pretending to be a trans woman that were really invasive of her privacy (years before kiwifarms even touched the subject), and despite claiming to be a vehemently anti-radical feminist group—willingly accepted radfem talking points and even radfems who self-identified as truscum. and cisgendered self-identified truscum, especially adult cis MEN (usually gay, and were fairly aggressive to us teens??), were accepted with open arms and were looked up to for some fucking reason. y’know, bootlicking.  around 2014 was when the term “transmedicalist/transmedicalism” was coined by john snarkytransman, and was popularized by users who followed suit. it came about around 2013/2014. since then, the term has been synonymous with truscum- but in may 29, 2015, users who wanted to detach themselves from the label of truscum due to drama wish to mark a distinction between the two labels, which was largely popularized by john myragewillendworlds. because truscum was never supposed to be a community initially, it was supposed to be an ideology “like atheism”.  and a lot of the drama around the time when transmedicalist was coined was due to three distinct groups forming: the old truscum (those who had been around since near the beginning, like i was. usually adult binary trans men over 18 and in their early-to-mid 20s.), neo-truscum (mostly made up of teens around my age who were newly out and majorly identified as nonbinary, and latched onto the first group they came across, like i had years prior), and the FUCKING MARIGANG (a notorious group of radfem truscum who only believed in 2 distinct nonbinary identities, agender and bigender, and were... extremely volatile.) i was somehow in all 3 of these groups because of 1. the fact i had been truscum since the near conception of the term so i was oldscum, 2. i was within the age range of most of the neo-truscum so a lot of them were my friends, and 3. mari from the marigang was the first ever other non-SAM asexual (and adult!) i had ever met (aside from my then-gf, Gabe. whomst i still talk to and luv with all my heart <33) and i clung onto her despite how.... fucking wild she was. and her boyfriend eliot was the first ever intersex person i had come across after learning about my own intersex variation, and i was so desperate for validation from these two adults who both held two identities integral to myself that i had never met any else sharing before, so i ignored so many of the red flags they had. (and they had... so many.) which brings me to my next point!!!!! 3. queer-phobia and the beginning of ace discourse. (NOTE: i didn’t realize all of these groups were radfem until years later, and i didn’t know what “TWERF” meant at the time. i barely knew was a radfem was.) so the marigang (2013/2014 i think?) was known for being notoriously volatile and violent at the drop of a hat to anyone who they didn’t like and labeling them as “fauxscum”. even to their own members in the skype group. it was largely made up of radfems and even eliot was a self-described TWERF (despite... at the time identifying as a intersex cis man????). the marigang believed in two nonbinary identities only: bigender and agender. mari herself was agender, asexual, and aromantic, and would brag about abusing eliot because of how much she despised men. she was incredibly anti-AVEN and refused to be called ace, aro, or aroace, and would only go by non-AVEN terms like “asexual” and thought the split-attraction-model was bullshit. (which is why i also refused to go by the terms ace/aro/aroace and would only go by “asexual” up until late 2016/early 2017.) mari was also incredibly hypocritical, criticizing me for having a girlfriend despite IDing as asexual & aromantic, even though she also had a boyfriend with the same sorta partnership (except Gabe and i weren’t abusive, just a bit too young.) despite that, i latched onto mari as an idolized adult figure. branching off from the marigang was a group of asexual & aromantic, usually nonbinary, radfem truscum who called themselves asexual elitists. and i ended up joining that group through mari. this group in either late 2013 to mid 2014 became the basis of what ace discourse would become a year later. some of our key beliefs that would later generally be accepted by truscum (a lot of them even sharing some of these beliefs despite hating the marigang and such) and then later spread throughout tumblr were: 1. there is no asexual spectrum. you’re either asexual or you aren’t. micro-identities like demisexuality and grayasexuality are unnecessary because that’s 90% of the population. (the part about demigray-sexuality was already popular amongst truscum at this time.) 2. people aren’t oppressed for being asexual. it’s either misogyny or misdirected homophobia. (i don’t think the term aphobia/acephobia was coined yet, or was popularized at this time.) 3. queer is a violent slur and should not be used as a personal identity or for the community. (already a common opinion amongst truscum.) 4. the split-attraction-model is unnecessary, redundant, harmful, and destructive. that if your sexual and romantic orientations “conflict” (ie: biromantic heterosexual, homoromantic pansexual, etc.), then you’re either one or the other and just confused. that it’s homophobic/biphobic/lesbiphobic because it reduces people to sex. (was already 50/50 with truscum.) 5. the term “allosexual” is very AVEN-y (therefore bad) and, again, reduces people to sex. because us asexuals were the “abnormal” (an actual word used that i internalized) ones in society, we didn’t need a word to refer to non-asexuals, and just not-asexual worked for it. 6. pansexuality don’t real and it’s just bisexuality under a special label. (was already 50/50 with truscum.) 7. the only existing orientations are gay/lesbian, bi, and straight. asexuality is the LACK of a sexuality and therefore not an orientation.  8. AVEN sucks. fuck AVEN. fuck david jay. MOGAI sucks. intersex isn’t lgbt. (i was the only intersex person a part of the asexual elitists (sans eliot) so i was kinda expected to just... agree with it. so i did. i didn’t have any opinions of my own for it. and mari was adamant about it because she was outspoken about eliot’s intersexuality.) — i’m probably missing some but these were off the top of my head. do those sound familiar? these were the beliefs of both the marigang and the asexual elitists groups, that were probably taken from radfems and then spread to truscum and to the rest of tumblr—which then spread out further through the internet, since many users had deviantarts and twitters and would take discourse to other places. et cetera et cetera. i left the marigang in late 2014 i want to say? and returned to the general truscum community, and the marigang fell apart due to in-fighting. but the damage had already been done at that point, and those of us left were still spreading this rhetoric to others who then continued to spread it. ------ i think i started to become an inclusionist in late 2015 or early 2016 when ace discourse STARTED to take off outside of truscum circles. because whenever i talked about bigotry i happened to face due to be asexuality, i was met with “that didn’t happen” and people dismissing my experiences and telling me i had no place in the lgbt community (“i never thought the leopards would eat my face” -person who supported the ‘leopards eating faces’ party). i began to notice how kinda... fucked up these exclusionist beliefs were, now that i was on the receiving end of them? so i left the truscum community (despite still holding transmedicalist beliefs at this time) and i made an ace discourse blog called acehet (which at the time i made it, was called allosexuel. but before that i helped run a blog called allodiscourse which then got rebranded to something else after i left idk??) i still held onto some of these initial beliefs. that the split attraction model was silly, that asexuality wasn’t a spectrum, that AVEN was harmful, pansexuality is just special bisexuality, queer was a slur, etc etc. and i did my best to actively work towards unlearning a lot of these things and began to blog in support of them, even if my best friend at the time (the one who later came out to me as nonbinary and inspired me to drop transmedicalist beliefs entirely) still believed in all of these things and felt like i was beginning to believe in the wrong things. (i think because of that i sorta inspired hir to become an inclusionist too after hir past exclusionism too? ze's never said what sorta made hir change hir stance. idk!) and through that, i began to realize that the root of so many gatekeeping beliefs and arguments were founded through radical feminism, truscum/transmedicalists, and bigotry in general. that so many of these parroted arguments were rehashed versions of “trans women aren’t women” to “nondysphorics aren’t trans” to “bihets aren’t lgbt” to “asexuals(and aromantics) aren’t lgbt” to “intersex people aren’t lgbt” and so forth. invading communities, stealing resources, preying on young lesbians (making her reject womanhood and become nonbinary/trans, internalized lesbiphobia and IDing as ace or bi, somehow sexually abusing them, etc.) and so on. they’re all the same fucking arguments. from the same fucking sources.  and i have been saying this for years since i realized it. there are maybe 1 or 2 beliefs i held onto since i started interacting with the truscum community back in 2011, before the term was coined. but i believe it only for myself, and do not apply it to anyone else. i, personally and for myself only, believe my own transexuality is a medical condition characterized by my dysphoria, and i’ve never really identified with the trans community. i don’t identify with the trans flag, so i don’t use it for myself. i avoid the term “trans” unless necessary. and in 2016-2018 i pretended to be a cis man online until it became too much and i hated lying. i don’t apply this to anyone else, only myself. because i only want to focus on the medical aspect of my transition. this is a major contrast with my intersex identity. where i don’t consider my intersex variation to be a condition, but rather a major identity of mine. whereas most people would see the inverse of this—that trans is an identity and intersex is a condition. for me, and me personally, it’s the opposite. my intersexuality is my identity and my transexuality is my condition. (i cannot stress enough that i only apply this belief to myself, nobody else.) i identify with the intersex community, i identify with the intersex flag, and being intersex is the most major part of my presentation and gender. there’s probably so many things i’ve missed since it’s been a decade since the conception of truscum as a group. before that i believe there were a similar group made up of trans women on some forums called HBSers (harry benjamin syndrome-ers). unlearning all of these beliefs i’ve internalized in my youth and trying to use my past as a way to dissuade people away from gate-keeping and exclusionism has been what i’ve been doing my best to do since around late 2015, even if i was still in the process of dropping my own harmful and exclusionary separatist beliefs after that time. there are still truscum-y thoughts that creep back into my mind every time i might come across something new or “cringy”, but after 2018/2019 when i finally came to the full realization that HRT would never work on me (my biggest nightmare since 2013 when i learned i was intersex)—i fully embraced my own cringy identity as a straight-lesbian ftm intersex man and embraced MOGAI as a term.  all queer-separatism beliefs, exclusionism, gate-keeping, and other lgbtqia+ infighting all stems from bigotry and hate. it stems from radfems, from truscum/transmedicalists, from people “exclusionists” claim to hate yet have no problem parroting arguments from. it’s all rooted in hatred and elitism and separating the “pure” identities away from the “bad” ones. all forms of gate-keeping in queer communities like this is bigoted and harmful, because it’s a slippery slope into all the other forms of gate-keeping as well. anyway i hope this wasn’t hard to read? i’m pretty rambly and i have trouble keeping my thoughts in check. i’ve most likely missed a lot of things and forgotten many more, but this is more or less the timeline that led me to learn that being truscum was genuinely and incredibly fucking harmful and i am still trying to make up for it. my 2 biggest regrets in life are 1. being truscum and 2. inventing circumgender. 

[eryiss]

Chapter One - Meeting

Summary: Laxus Dreyar, prince of Fiore, has been trapped in the town of Magnolia for months by order of his grandfather. After a failed attempt at leaving ends up with the prince injured, his grandfather punishes him by adding a new guard to his retainer team. An arrogant, up-tight, overly confident, handsome bastard named Freed Justine. [Fraxus | Fantasy AU]

This was originally written as a one shot for Fraxus day, but it got a little out of hand so here we are. It’s inspired by the Fire Emblem games, but I don’t know enough about the games to really call it an official AU, so I thought it best to just call it a fantasy AU. But if you know the series, you might catch some references.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. You can find the chapter list here. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Chapter One: Meeting

"This is bullshit."

Laxus' words were practically spat out. The prince was sitting atop his bed, bandages wrapped around his otherwise bare torso, essentially pouting as he was forced to maintain direct eye contact with one of his retainers; Bickslow. He was vaguely aware that, leaning against the wall of his chambers, Evergreen was watching both men with an expression that would probably be equal parts patronising and amused. It made Laxus' annoyance at the situation worse.

He had been forced to chambers by his grandfather – and king – while the older man 'decided what to do with him.' Bickslow and Evergreen had been allowed to keep him company, and Bickslow had decided he would try to heal Laxus' injuries while they had nothing better to do. Hence why the two men were holding such intense eye contact.

Apparently Bickslow's magic worked better that way. Laxus didn't understand why, and Bickslow only explained by saying the eyes were the windows to the soul.

His injuries came from his own stupidity; he was mature enough to admit that. For the past few months, he hadn't been allowed out of the town that his castle looked over, and he had been getting somewhat stir crazy. Multiple times he had found himself in his grandfather's office, asking for permission to leave the bounds of Magnolia to do something – anything – in a place where it wasn't immediately obvious that he was royalty. Each time – even when the requests were rational such as when he wanted to camp for a weekend in a forest a half-hour's walk away from the city boarders – he was turned down under the excuse that it was best for his safety if he stayed. Every time, Laxus had felt his anger grow until he eventually snapped.

So he… ran away.

He resented the term his grandfather used, but it was basically true. He had convinced his retainers that it would be best for them all to get away, and intended to travel to the nearest city, have a small vacation there, and then return. It would have taken two weeks at the most and would have done the blonde a world of good. His plan had not gone as well as he had hoped.

Two things had gone wrong, as far as Laxus knew. One; the night guard who he had bribed for his silence had a change of heart and had gone to Makarov to explain what Laxus was doing. Two; there had been a very minor attempt at kidnapping him.

It wasn't as bad as everyone was making it out to be, really. Yes, someone had tried to kidnap the prince of Fiore on his first outing in months. Yes, at one point he had a sword to his throat that could have killed him. Yes, the three of them had been taken unaware and the fight had not been as easy as it should have been. But it wasn't as if Laxus had been taken; Evergreen's magic made quick work of most of the kidnappers and Laxus and Bickslow were by no means weak and vulnerable. Even the injures Laxus had gained had actually come from his horse being spooked and bucking him off, rather than the kidnappers themselves.

Annoyingly, the guards looking for Laxus appeared at the same time the kidnappers were forced to retreat. And they didn't believe Laxus' story about where his injuries came from, or about how long he planned to be away.

So now, he was essentially fucking grounded.

"Oh, that's what you think," Evergreen said, incredibly sarcastically. "I thought you loved everything about this situation and wanted it to go on forever. Oh you're so hard to read, Laxus. Thank you for the clarification."

"I can kill you Ever," Laxus grunted. "I'm a prince, I can have you beheaded."

"Firstly, no you can't. That hasn't been allowed for centuries," Ever laughed. "And secondly, if you killed me, the only friend you'd have in the world is Bickslow. Imagine that. Just Bickslow. Bickslow."

Laxus chuckled a little, seeing Bickslow's eye twitch as he continued focusing on healing the prince. He couldn't be sure, but Laxus could just see Bickslow raise an arm towards Evergreen's direction and the blonde expected that a certain finger would be raised towards her. He was glad that he had the two of them with him, or he would be both bored out of his mind and stewing in his anger. Also he was fairly sure that fucking horse had broken a rib when it kicked him off, and that would have hurt a lot more without Bickslow's healing.

God, what would happen if they lost their position for helping him. Well, he just wouldn't let that happen.

"You got any idea what they're gonna do?" Evergreen asked, and she was looking at Laxus so obviously was addressing him.

"Who fucking knows," Laxus sighed, wanting to run a hand through his hair but stopping himself so the healing could be continued. "Guards at the doors to my chambers, not even allowed out of the castle, let alone Magnolia. Which is gonna fucking kill me because I can't deal with staying inside this fucking town let alone this stupid fucking old-"

"And we're done!" Bickslow chimed, and Laxus cut himself off by the sudden chill that overtook him at the absence of Bickslow's magic.

"Doesn't feel fucking done," Laxus grunted, looking at the scabs and cuts on his arms he knew Bickslow could have healed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't being such a grumpy bitch then I'd make all your injuries go away. But you are, so suck it up," The healer grinned wide and manically, looking towards Evergreen. "And if I remember correctly, I was your only friend for quite a long time, and look how you turned up," He paused, looking Evergreen up and down. "Actually, she's right. If you turn out like that then you're screwed."

"Asshole," Ever snapped, but Laxus saw her smiling a little.

A small but playful argument occurred between the two retainers, and it allowed Laxus some time to think to himself. He should have known that this would happen in some way, it wasn't as if he would return home from his two weeks away to cheers and forgiveness and a parade to honour his successful attempt at running away. It would always end up in this situation, although being confined to his bedroom wouldn't have been as bad if he hadnt seen the aforementioned room for a week as he had intended.

He continued to spiral into a mess of anger – aimed at both himself and the situation he found himself in – for a little while as Evergreen and Bickslow continued to argue with each other; he wasn't listening so couldn't tell what exactly they were picking at anymore.

The situation was broken when the two large doors to Laxus' chambers were pushed open, slamming against the walls they were attached to. He saw Gildarts, one of Makarov's most trusted knights and retainer, swagger through the doors that he had opened with far too much gusto. Normally, Laxus would have gotten pissed at someone storming into his room without permission, but Gildarts was almost definitely acting on the king's orders and, as the king was kind of pissed off at Laxus, he didn't want to make it worse.

"Your gramps wants to see ya, kid," Gildarts grinned, apparently knowing Laxus wasn't gonna risk biting back on his slight taunt. "You really pissed him off, y'know."

Laxus stood, walking to the door. He spared him a glance as he muttered. "Thanks."

The two men walked through the large, lavish halls of Magnolia Castle in silence, with Laxus walking a few steps in front of Gildarts. He made sure his face was devoid of any emotion, partly because he was trained to hide his feelings from his youth, and also because if he got control of himself now, he was less likely to explode when face to face with his grandfather.

When they reached the king's office, Gildarts stood to the side of the door, assumedly so he could stand guard. Taking in a breath, Laxus pushed open the doors and walked into Makarov's office.

His grandfather was sitting behind his large wooden desk, which had stacks of paper on one side and a large lamp on the other. The king looked up at the entrance of his grandson, removed the glasses he was wearing and looked at the blonde with an expression that screamed 'disappointed but not angry.' Laxus bristled a bit at this, because he knew his grandfather was just as volatile as he was and he was pissed, not just disappointed. This was the façade he wore when he was acting as a king rather than himself.

So he was dealing with King Makarov and not his grandfather. Great.

As he walked further into the room, he saw that there was another man standing to the side. He was facing the king, so Laxus couldn't see his face, but he had long green hair and was wearing typical swordsman's armour: predominant black fabric with silver lining, and small plates of armour over vulnerable parts of his body but not enough to limit his movement. He also had a red cloak over his shoulder, which connoted a high rank. Laxus didn't recognise him, though.

"Take a seat, Laxus," Makarov stated, voice somewhat tired. It grated on the blonde's nerves.

"I'd rather stand," He grumbled a little, wanting to have a small amount of power in the conversation.

"If you must," Makarov leant forward. "As I'm sure you've realised, I am not happy with your behaviour over the last few days. Not only did you willingly go against my orders for you to stay in the city, which I did to keep you safe," Laxus rolled his eyes at that. "But you also took your retainers, and therefore put them both in danger with you."

"I wasn't in danger," Laxus muttered.

"You were nearly kidnapped Laxus, that's essentially the definition of being in danger," Makarov snapped, and now there was no doubt that Makarov was angry at him, not just disappointed. "You were reckless, you were childish, and you put your retainers in danger just because you can't handle a small amount of control being taken away from you."

"Small?" Laxus gritted his teeth. "I haven't left this fucking town in months."

"People in that 'fucking town' are going through a lot worse than that, and they don't throw tantrums over it. Get over yourself," Makarov snapped, his kingly façade slipping. "Clearly, what you've done isn't acceptable and it can't happen again. After looking at the problem from a few angles, I believe that the best way to stop this is-"

"You're gonna keep me in the castle," Laxus snapped. "Or in my chambers or tie me to my fucking bed or whatever. Stop fucking around and tell me."

"Don't interrupt me, brat," Makarov snapped again. "As I was saying, that the best way to stop this from happening again is to admit that, perhaps, I misjudged the effects of keeping you in magnolia. I didn't expect it to mess with your head as much as it did, and I clearly didn't expect you to do something so reckless as to run away-"

"I wasn't trying to run away!" Laxus yelled his protest.

"Clearly your freedom is more important to you than I expected," Makarov continued as if he hadnt heard Laxus' claim. "So, I'm going to work on a way to allow more freedom while keeping you safe from potential attack."

Laxus quietened at that, not exactly sure how to respond. The idea of Makarov admitting he was wrong wasn't farfetched – he wasn't irrational – but to hear him do so after Laxus had pissed him off was confusing. It was clear that Makarov was still angry at him, and whatever his plan was wasn't going to be as simple as him saying things can go back to the way they used to be. But, with how much he was craving more freedom, he expected any punishment he might have to take would be worth it.

"From what I've been told, you were taken unaware by the kidnappers," Makarov continued. "That, to me, suggests that there is a problem with your retaining team."

"You are not replacing them!" Laxus spoke up, teeth gritting again. "It was my fault they were distracted."

"I don't doubt it," Makarov glared at his grandson. "I know you have a good relationship with Evergreen and Bickslow, and I don't hold it against you. I was the same at your age. But I believe that, given the target you now have on your back, having two retainers – one of whom focuses on healing – is not effective. Hence why Mr Justine is here."

Makarov nodded towards the knight who was still standing in the room, a little behind Laxus. The blonde looked back, to see he had a stoic expression on his somewhat fragile features; the man himself didn't seem fragile, Laxus could tell this from a glance. He looked back to his grandfather.

"Don't recognise him," Laxus stated. This was unusual, he knew of almost everyone working in the castle, even if he didn't speak to most of them.

"Mr Justine here has been working through the rehabilitation program, and is one of the most successful participants," Makarov explained, and Laxus had to fight a roll of his eyes. So he was one of Makarov's little pet projects. "As you can tell from his uniform, he's gained the position of a knight, which he has had for quite some time. He's a good fighter, effective with a sword and has the mind of a tactician. Which is why I believe that he will be effective when he takes control of your retainer team."

"No," Laxus stated, tone not leaving room for argument. "He's a fucking criminal! And you want him to follow me everywhere? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"He is as much a criminal as you are," Makarov spoke calmly, cutting off Laxus before he could speak. "By going against my orders and leaving Magnolia, you technically committed treason. Therefore, you are a criminal."

"Oh fuck off," Laxus growled, knowing Makarov was baiting him for a reaction. "When I was a kid, I slammed the doors too much when you told me not to, was that treasonous too?"

"Technically speaking, yes," Makarov wouldn't break eye contact with Laxus, making the blonde bristle again. "But that is beside the point, Mr Justine is no longer a criminal in my eyes and therefore he is no longer a criminal in any law in this country. I trust him and he has proven himself to be both reliable and effective in his work. As far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters."

"What if I say no," Laxus crossed his arms. "Or what if Bicks or Ever have a problem. They ain't gonna like some random criminal telling them what to do."

"From what I know, Bickslow and Evergreen have already formed something of a friendship with Mr Justine here, so I doubt they'll have any problems with him joining your team," Makarov explained, and Laxus frowned. He didn't know that. "And as for your opinion on it, I won't be taking it into account. Just like you didn't take my orders into account when you ran off because you wanted to stretch your legs. But if you continue to act like a child and fight with me about this, I may take your recommendation to keep you restrained to the castle on board. Thank you for that."

There was a great urge to tell his grandfather to go fuck himself that Laxus found himself fighting, and the only thing stopping him was the fact Makarov was going to follow through on his threat if he was pushed enough.

The blonde turned to the man who was apparently now part of his retainer team and glared at him openly. He didn't know exactly what the man had done to get him arrested and subsequentially put into the rehab program, and he knew that his grandfather wouldn't tell him if he asked. But the fact he was here – and had been taken into the castle's jails; that was the only way people got into the rehab program – meant that it wasn't a small crime. Laxus felt his distrust of the criminal wearing knights armour was justified.

The knight, Mr Justine, looked back at Laxus with an unreadable expression on his face. Neither said anything, and if Laxus wasn't as good at hiding his emotions then he may have squirmed a little under his gaze. The criminal seemed to be assessing him while maintaining eye contact. It was disturbing.

"I expect you to treat him with the same amount of respect you give to your current retainers, Laxus," Makarov commented, standing up and walking to the door of his office. He gave Laxus a pointed glare. "I have to ask you both to leave now, I have work to do."

Mr Justine nodded, bowed and gave the usual goodbye that Makarov was given. Laxus didn't speak to his grandfather as he walked out of the office, and when the door was shut behind them both he looked towards his new retainer with an expression of distrust across his features.

"Gramps said you can look after yourself," Laxus stated, arms crossed. "You agree with that?"

"I'm a better knight that most people here," The man spoke for the first time, voice smooth and confident. "I'm qualified to look after you."

"Prove it. Go to the courtyard and beat me in a fight, hand-to-hand."

There was a moment of silence before the knight spoke again. "No."

"Fucking typical," Laxus muttered. "Why the hell should I trust you as a retainer if you don't have the balls to fight me."

"That isn't the reason I don't wish to fight you," Mr Justine spoke, and Laxus was annoyed that he believed the man. Nobody who spoke that confidentially was scared of a fight. "While you're still recovering, you will have an excuse to why you don't beat me. If the only way to earn your respect is to fight, it will be when neither of us have the luxury of saving face if we lose. So when you've recovered, then I will fight you. Is that acceptable?"

Laxus bit back the urge to use his title as prince against him. The cocky son of a bitch thought he could beat Laxus? And he was confident enough to be acting like that? Bastard. Still, taking away the smugness of his face would be pretty fucking cathartic.

"Fine."

"Very well," Mr Justine turned to walk away, but stopped himself. He looked back to Laxus with the same expression on his face. "I feel I should let you know, for full discretion, that me and your current retainers met and became close when the three of us were part of the king's rehabilitation program, which you seem to not respect."

Laxus' eye twitched. He didn't know that either.

"I can't imagine why they wouldn't mention it to you," The knight continued. "You seem so open to the chance of someone changing who they used to be," His face split into a spiteful, almost cruel looking smile. "Good day, your highness."

He turned on his heel and walked away. Laxus ground his teeth together, felt a rush of anger flow over him, before storming off in the opposite direction.

Bastard.

[concussed-to-pieces]

More! Part One

Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Eventual Tenya Iida/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M

AN: Hello all, it's time for the first chapter of my prime indulgence! To any of my anime-inclined broskis out there, welcome aboard!

In The Shadow

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For gratuitous,canon-typical violence and facial trauma. Stay safe!]

Tenya had been informed time and again that college was slightly different from high school. He endured a few weeks of mental gymnastics when he realized that he wouldn’t have a uniform. College was different and yet...not. Certainly, no uniform to iron the night before and the ability to make your own schedule were boons. Nearly all of his ‘new’ classmates were old friends from high school which meant that he wasn't lacking in company, but many people didn’t seem to share Iida’s enthusiasm for continuing to better oneself even after the preliminary quirk training of high school! He wanted to be the best hero he could be, he wanted to make his family proud!

That was why he made the choice to attend college in the first place, with Tensei's wholehearted support behind him. He knew that any time he wanted it, he could have a job at his family’s hero agency. So why not be the best possible fit for his future job? Tenya was incredibly fortunate to have a secure career, and he took his studies very seriously.

Leona Moore wasn’t a troublemaker, though the way that she dressed had set off warning bells in Tenya’s brain. It was the pants, he decided, the overlarge cargo pants that had too many pockets. She was notoriously early for her classes, sometimes by an hour or so. Tenya admired her dedication, consistently fifteen minutes ahead of schedule himself. She always had a lollipop stick protruding from her mouth, her shoulders hunched slightly underneath the leather jacket she usually wore. She couldn’t seem to decide on whether she wanted to make herself seem larger or smaller, her clothes all slightly too big for her frame and her jokes never failing to make Kirishima snort with laughter at the worst possible times.

Her quirk made her a little touch-shy, Izuku had kindly pointed out to Tenya when Iida was confused over her standoffish behavior during their warm up period before general training. “She’s had to be pretty careful, Iida. She didn’t learn how to use her quirk until halfway through high school. Before that, she didn’t even know she had one!” Iida could only imagine how volatile the situation for that revelation must have been, seeing as she had a quirk that doubled the power of any kinetic force she withstood.

She also had control, seeming to have mastered the ability to turn it off and on at will. Tenya's misguided pity had turned into genuine admiration after watching her perform in their college sports festival. Granted, next to the explosive display of Bakugou versus Ururaka or the emotional minefield of Todoroki and Deku's battle, Leona's bout wouldn't stand out overmuch to the average viewer.

Leona had been paired up against Mineta, who made the fatal mistake of immediately pelting her with his ammunition in an attempt to incapacitate her. The kinetic energy from his rapid-fire slinging seemed to send her into overdrive, the young woman slamming an uppercut to his jaw that landed him in the lower stands. One punch, and the round was over. Iida silently approved of the way she had turned and bowed to the crowd before leaving the field. As a hero, one of many priorities would be to end fights quickly and decisively. Another one was courtesy to bystanders and officials-

...

How strange, he mused, thinking about her at a time like this. His rage continued to boil and yet…

He closed his eyes. Just for a minute. God, it was strange. Would she be proud of him? Proud of his rabid behavior? What about his family? Fear lanced through Tenya's heart, the first he had felt in ages. What if his parents lost him to this ill-advised fight? What if...what if this was the end?

The blade in his shoulder twisted sharply and Tenya bit back a sound of pain. He refused to show any more weakness to this monster, regardless of what he might endure.

“Hey, what the hell are you doin' to my class rep?!”

Tenya's eyes shot open. No. That's-

“You've got the nerve of a bull elephant if you're takin’ on ‘Genium. Who do you think you are?!”

“Run More! Get away from here!” Tenya yelled. “He’s got some kind of paralysis quirk, don't let him get close to you!”

Stain grunted, obviously a little startled by the young woman's abrupt presence. From what Tenya could see out of the corner of his eye, his classmate Leona (hero name More for reasons he had yet to discern) looked red in the face like she’d been running for a while. Her shoulders were still heaving up and down even while she raised her fists.

“You're another trainee. Interesting.” Stain remarked, almost as if he was talking to himself. “So you're also from the college. And you called him the class rep, which means he and you are in the same classes.”

“Mind like a steel trap on ya’.” Leona replied dryly. “Any other obvious insight you want to share, or can I beat the shit out of you now?”

Tenya bit back the reflexive shout of language!, shocked out of his impotent bloodlust by how brazen his classmate was being. It was an admirable strategy. Or at least, it would have been if she actually had backup.

“Another fake hero who needs to be cleansed from the planet.” Stain eased his blade out of Tenya's arm agonizingly slow.

“Thanks, but I'm plenty clean. Took a shower this mornin’ and everything. The name's More, and I'm no fake!” Leona called to Tenya then, her voice sharp with poorly-concealed worry. “How you holdin’ up, Calf Crusher?”

Tenya groaned. Her nicknames never ceased to send the class into fits. “I can't move. I'll be no help at all. He's just going to kill you. Why did you interfere?”

“You've gotta' be shittin’ me right now, Rep. Like I would just stand by and watch you get fucked? What kind of friend would that make me?” She sounded incredulous. If Tenya didn't know any better, she actually sounded a little irritated.

“One that keeps living, that's what kind!” Tenya snapped. We're barely friends! his mind added traitorously.

Leona pounded her fist into her palm and then jerked her hands up in a way oddly reminiscent of how Iida would move when he was excited. “I know who this guy is. More importantly, I know who you are and I figured out what you were up to when you picked Hosu for your internship. It's okay.” She reassured him.

You're going to die. “I'm begging you. Please leave.”

“I'm not gonna’ let you degrade yourself by beggin’ me, bud.” Leona retorted. “Second oldest son, heir to the Ingenium name, badass extraordinaire and all around decent dude, shut the fuck up and let me do what I can to make sure you can keep doing the best that you can!” She all but shouted, leaving Tenya speechless as Stain stepped over his body.

“‘More’, huh? Why, because you're always trying to be the best? Maybe because you want to protect more people. At least, that's what you would say, right?” Stain sneered, brandishing his sword.

“No way man! ‘More’ because the more the merrier when it comes to me!” She shot right back, that teasing grin firmly fixed on her face. “I may not be fast or smart like ‘Genium...hell, I'm not even all that special compared to the other people in my class, but I'm still here!” Tenya's eyes widened as she advanced on Stain, extending a hand. “I look forward to apprehending you, sir!”

“You'll be fun to kill.” Stain lashed out a second too late, Leona barely ducking his blade in time. “Another false hero, proud to wear the title and unwilling to do the damn dirty work that comes with it!”

“I feel like this is pretty dirty work right now.” She pointed out, catching his next strike with her gloved hand and grunting at the impact against the padding of her gloves. “Whew, a little harder next time and you'll take me down for sure!” She encouraged sarcastically, twisting the blade and coming close to ripping it clean out of the villain's grasp. She was so focused on his sword that the knife thrown at her arm caught her by surprise.

Stain’s speed and raw power were devastating. The blade sank deep, so deep, too deep. Tenya's brother in that hospital bed was burned into his mind, I can't feel my legs I can't feel my legs. “More!” Tenya had thought he felt helpless before, but it was now multiplied tenfold. “Damn it, I told you to run!”

“It shouldn't be too tough to keep him here until the pros arrive. I'm in for the long haul, Calf Crusher. Don't worry.” Leona said calmly, her rational words only serving to confuse the engine hero. She was built to take hits and he had never witnessed any particularly mindblowing strategies from her. Maybe he had written her off too soon. Maybe-

Stain rushed her, that deadly sword smeared red with Iida's blood. Moore jerked the knife out of her arm and used it to hastily deflect the worst of the cut from the sword away from her torso, snagging the blade under her arm instead. Stain drew another knife, this one serrated, and slashed at her face with it. One of the teeth on the knife caught the edge of her mouth and split it open nearly to her cheekbone. Leona staggered back, holding her cheek.

Stain turned up the pressure, releasing his sword momentarily in favor of cracking a fierce punch into her wounded face. Blood spattered from the impact, Stain's knuckles that sick red. “That all you got? Gimme’ more!” Moore slurred through her broken mouth, that infuriating grin still-

Oh. Tenya felt like an idiot. She was the endurance hero. She absorbed punishment like it was oxygen, a kinetic battery that could only be charged by violent outbursts. And when she decided to strike back, she doubled the output...but her body had limits, he had seen them in action during training. Midoriya had given her a kick at her request and instead of explosively discharging the extra power, she just passed out.

His heart slammed in his throat. If she pushed herself too hard, Stain wouldn't even have to do anything.

She swung at the hero killer and the doubled power of her blow threw him to slam his back into the alley wall. Stain wheezed for breath, clearly confused by the force behind her hit. “Just who the hell are you?” He panted.

“Beat me an’ maybe you'll learn.” Blood was spilling between her gritted teeth, running in a brilliant trail down her chin to drip off the bottom of her jaw. She was smiling like a fiend.

“I've never met anyone so eager to die.” Stain grimaced, rotating his shoulder and then shaking it out.

Tenya heard a strange crackling noise, almost like electricity. Midoriya rocketed over his head and bounded off the walls of the alleyway, a green missile with fist extended to crash into Stain. “Smash!” He yelled. Green energy, lightning, whatever it was it was blanketing his body. The Hero Killer was flung further back in the alley from the impact. Izuku skidded to a halt beside Moore, shaking his hand and hissing in pain. “Sorry I took so long!” He said brightly, like he hadn't just given the man responsible for killing a multitude of heroes the most thunderous of haymakers. “How you doing?”

“Take care of ‘Genium. He can't move, help him get out of here!” Leona said urgently.

Tenya refused to meet Midoriya's eyes, ashamed at how his own filled with frustrated tears. Midoriya reached for him and then went stiff. Tenya's heart fell into his stomach when he noticed the small tear in Midoriya’s glove and the blood blotting the fabric. Just enough. “Uh...I can't...move either?” Midoriya muttered slowly.

Tenya watched Leona freeze as well, her arms grinding to a halt. “Stain, your fight is with me! Leave them alone!” Tenya yelled, his voice cracking.

Further down the alleyway Stain grinned, giving his knife another lick. “I think I'd rather play with your friends. At least they landed hits on me. Unlike you. How does it feel to know that this is entirely your fault, fake hero?”

An ugly noise of agony fought free of Iida, rasping in his throat like sandpaper. It was true, wasn't it? Tensei worked so hard because Tenya believed in him, looked up to him, and the eldest Iida wanted to make his little brother proud. If Tenya hadn't been such a child, maybe…maybe his big brother wouldn't have tried so hard to rid the world of injustice. Maybe his big brother would still be able to walk. Fake hero.

And his classmates, friends, tangled up in this mess because of him! Midoriya crouched so close and yet so far away, his eyes darting around as he tried to figure out where Stain would come from. Moore, frozen in place with her back to the two of them while she was forced to face down the Hero Killer. “I'm so sorry.” Tenya breathed finally.

“Don't apologize! I should be apologizing. I should have gotten you to talk to me after what happened to your brother.” Midoriya looked tearful. “I should have said something. I just didn't want to pressure you. I'm sorry I'm a bad friend.”

Tenya was at a loss for words, losing his ability to stave off the tears streaming down his face.

Flames suddenly illuminated the whole alley, the gout of fire threatening to cook Tenya in his armor. “Next time you send your location, give a little more info.” It was Todoroki! And he was using his left side! Tenya was aghast. How many acquaintances had his blind rage dragged to this slaughter?

“Easy! I think you singed my hair!” Midoriya fussed at the icy hot hero. “That was all I had time to send!”

Stain hammered a fist into Moore's side, making the endurance hero spit out a mouthful of blood. Her arm wound up for a swing of her own, body sluggishly chugging forward like she was moving through molasses. The fact that she could move at all, though-! Was it because she absorbed the momentum from his hits? Or was Stain’s control weaker the more people it was spread across? Tenya found himself pondering the ins and outs of the man's quirk even as Stain pummeled Moore. She was defenseless, where was the honor in this?! Tenya's fingers twitched, uselessly tapping the cracked blacktop.

Todoroki drove Stain away from Moore with a combination attack, fire and ice arcing through the air as he switched rapidly. Leona slid one foot back, then the other, spitting more blood off to the side and slowly raising her arms in a defensive move. “Icy Hot, you-”

“I know. Keep my distance. Shouldn't be too difficult.” The flames on Todoroki's left side burned even brighter. “I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with my fire yet, but I can't deny its applications here.”

“How many children will throw themselves upon my blade tonight?” Stain cackled incredulously. “Bad enough that your friend in the armor didn't have the brains to run and get help just like his stupid brother, but now the rest of you feed yourselves to me!” He shook his head. “This next generation of heroes gets weaker and weaker. At least I'm lessening the workload on your professors.”

“You be quiet!” Iida shouted, fingers digging into the asphalt. “Ingenium was the model hero, the perfect example of selflessness and respect for others that a villain like you couldn’t possibly understand! I'll never forgive you for hurting my brother!” He screamed, able to move his neck now so he could look up at Stain while he issued his ultimatum. He didn't care how idiotic he must look, barely managing to wiggle his fingers while he yelled his fury at this man, this villain, this monster who had fractured his family.

“You're selfish. Dragging your friends into this fight because of your petty need for revenge. You're the furthest thing from a hero. You're a weakling.” Stain sheathed his sword, drawing two smaller knives instead and lunging at Todoroki and Moore.

“Don’t listen to him!” Midoriya said fiercely, somehow already able to move again! Was Tenya really that weak? Or was Stain’s quirk overpowering him because he had been the first one hit? “He’s just-”

“No. He's completely correct.” Tenya cut him off dully, clenching his hand into a fist. “If I hadn't been so consumed with this...if I had just been stronger, maybe…” Emotion closed his throat.

“Knock it off!” Leona yelled, startling him with the fury in her tone. “You don't need to be a fuckin’ martyr, Iida! What good does it do your brother if you get your ass killed?” Her voice was rough, words hard to understand through the injury she had sustained. “Think about how your parents will feel, and especially think about how your brother will feel! We're here to help, Rep, but you gotta’ take our hand!”

“Ingenium wouldn't give up!” Todoroki continued where she left off. “Be Ingenium! Get up and fight!”

As though a switch had been flipped, feeling surged through Tenya's arms and legs. Pins and needles so harsh it made him wince, and it was nothing compared to the pain in his limp arm, but he was up, he was up-

He staggered to his feet, splaying his stance just to stay vertical.

Stain hacked Midoriya’s leg out from beneath him after barely avoiding another Smash and then rushed Todoroki, nimbly dodging the fire and ice attacks in an attempt to bring that sword down on Todoroki's left arm, he would sever it clean at his shoulder-

Tenya felt like everything shifted to quarter-speed. Leona's fingers grasped desperately at Todoroki's shirt to try and pull him out of the way in time. She was still too slow, still sapped by the hero killer's quirk. Shoto's eyes went wide in realization, the young man attempting to recoil backwards away from the blade. Midoriya was yelling something, Todoroki's name no doubt, tears shining in his eyes.

Tenya's breathing echoed in his ears. In, out, in--

The engines in his calves came roaring to life in a glorious rush of Reciproburst! and without a thought for his own safety, Tenya was there between Todoroki and that sword. His armored knee shattered the blade before he whipped his whole body around via bicycle kick and re-aimed his leg at Stain's side. The hit made landfall accompanied by a shower of blue sparks from the heat of his engines, essentially drop-kicking the villain out of midair.

Stain was flung head over heels. Iida stumbled as his right leg gave out, clumsily dropping to one knee. His engines sputtered to a halt, shudders of pain from his calves flickering over the all-encompassing agony in his wounded arm. Fleetingly he wondered if he had ruptured something in his frenzy.

“Iid-Ingenium!” Todoroki shoved the larger man behind him and issued another burst of flame, barely warding off the rallying villain in time. “He’s fighting like a rabid animal. Be careful!”

“Give me a good kick, ‘Genium!” Leona suggested eagerly. “I'll get his ass back down to ground level so you and the others can wreck him!”

“My Reciproburst shot my engines and I don’t think a regular punch would offer you sufficient damage, I've overheated and I need more…time...” Iida paused, his eyes narrowing as a thought occurred to him. “Todoroki! Can you freeze my legs without plugging my exhausts?”

Todoroki opened his mouth to reply and Stain roared in outrage, bolting through Todoroki's flames in the distraction for another attack on the icy hot hero. Tenya and Moore moved at the same time, Tenya extending his good arm in front of Todoroki’s chest to offer him the protection of his armor while Leona rushed forward to fight Stain one on one. “You're in the way!” Stain snarled at them, leaping backwards up the icy pillars Todoroki had created.

A folding knife found its mark in Tenya's upper arm after penetrating his armor and he gritted his teeth in pain, doing his best to hold fast. “Todoroki please-!” A larger serrated knife followed the first, slamming into Tenya's forearm so hard he was forced prone. The wind was knocked out of him by his abrupt change in posture and Tenya choked for breath, still bewildered by the Hero Killer's power and tenacity.

“Iida!” Todoroki actually stopped his elemental attacks on Stain in favor of reeling back his fire-wreathed fist and whacking a heated punch into Moore's shoulder (to Tenya's dismay). Leona laughed (also to Tenya's dismay), easily accepting the blow while the air began to reek of smoldering cloth and lycra. Todoroki quickly slapped his other hand down on the burning area of her vest, extinguishing the heat before it could get out of hand.

“Just freeze my legs!” Iida yelled, startled by the fierce cry Moore let out before she lunged upwards at the retreating Stain.

A distraction, a distraction, he realized suddenly, take the punishment and double it to give us time. Please Leona!

Midoriya was back up again, limping badly. Cold ripped at the armor covering Tenya's calves, the frigid temperature almost too much to bear. This was an incredible risk he was taking, pushing on past the natural boundaries that his quirk and familial training had instilled. He hadn’t had enough time to recover naturally from his last Reciproburst. If something gave out under the strain, he would be incapable of defending himself.

It didn't matter. Tenya felt his engines choke, sputter, and then rev wildly. His left arm was useless at this point. He used his teeth to pull out the knife in his right, retching at the sour taste of old blood on the handle. Both arms were effectively unusable.

It didn't matter. He would use his legs. As long as Leona could land a hit that would get Stain off-balance enough for himself (and possibly Midoriya, but it might be presumptuous to rely on him) to capitalize on, that was all that he could ask for.

Iida stood, bending his legs at the knees as he prepared to leave the ground. Leona wisely aimed at the building directly beneath where Stain had jabbed the remaining stub of his sword in to perch, the doubled power from Todoroki's hit easily crushing the cement to instability. Thank God the buildings were long abandoned. Stain at least picked fights far away from where people would frequent, isolating his victims. A solitary, fiendish predator.

Iida crouched as low as he could, his exhausts glowing bright blue with the horsepower he was putting out. A new word came to mind.

“Recipro-” The engines in his calves stalled and keened, out of sync with one another as the ice dissolved into rivulets of moisture on the heated surface of his armor. “-extend!” He left the ground behind, a cloud of dust billowing in his wake.

If I just…

Tenya rocketed towards Stain, his eyes locked on the villain.

...use my leg…

He was vaguely aware of Midoriya out of the corner of his blurred vision, a brilliant streak of verdant green that seemed to hang in midair perpendicular to his path of upward motion.

...that's all I need…

His knee threatened to hyperextend even with his armor to brace him. Iida squinted fiercely and gritted his teeth.

...to beat this guy!

Midoriya’s fist planted in Stain's jaw the same time Iida's foot crashed into the villain's unprotected side. The impact rang in Tenya's ears, metal on cloth on skin on metal, high reverberations that sent shivers down his back.

Even after that tandem strike, the conniving villain still managed to swipe wildly at Tenya with one of his many knives. Tenya barely moved his head in time, feeling the blade just catch on the top of his dark locks. He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the fact that the three of them were now rapidly returning to the ground. Izuku started scrabbling at the wall, trying to grab a handhold.

“I will defeat you Stain!” Iida shouted passionately. “Because you are a criminal, and I am a hero!” His second kick didn't miss the free-falling villain either, cracking into Stain’s side so hard Tenya could feel the older man’s ribs collapse as they plummeted towards Todoroki and Leona in the alley far, far below.

Arms locked around Tenya's hips and Leona pushed off the wall in an abrupt redirection, moving Tenya so Todoroki could have a clear shot at the villain. How had she jumped so high, so fast?! She skidded to a stop on a pillar of ice that Shoto had made, still holding tight to Tenya’s waist. Iida shifted his weight as low as he could, trying to help so they wouldn’t go over the edge. His legs felt like gelatin, like they would fold underneath him, and he was immensely grateful for her strong hold on his armor.

Shoto's mastery of ice was intimidating enough up close and personal, but his barely-controlled flames were a sight to see. Tenya supposed it probably had to do with man's deep-seated primal terror involving fire, if he had to chalk it up to something. A massive fireball engulfed Stain, missing Midoriya by the barest of inches.

“Deku!” Leona yelled, sighing in relief when the young hero gave her a thumbs up and a wavering smile from his own slippery perch.

“Get up and keep fighting, you three! I doubt that was enough to…” Todoroki trailed off, his eyes widening in confusion. Stain had crash landed on yet another of his icy plateaus, the villain’s eyes rolled back in his skull. He looked like he had been knocked unconscious.

Is he dead?

Tenya hated the sick, joyous thrill that sang up his spine at the thought. He had been so selfish, so blinded in his fury that he believed his actions righteous. It was terrifying that he could so coldly rationalize the taking of another human being’s life, even one so horrible as the Hero Killer! He would never forgive himself if his own mistakes had urged Todoroki forward into doing the unthinkable.

Moore went limp against Tenya’s back, her relief palpable. “Icy Hot, I think we’re all going to need an assist at this point.” She slurred. “I’ve lost...a lot of blood. Head wounds, you know the drill.”

“Your mouth! Moore, are you-”

“I think he knocked out one of my teeth?” She mumbled over Tenya’s frantic question, moving to sit beside him and then carelessly dragging the flap of skin from the split side of her mouth aside (presumably so she could count her own teeth). Tenya fought a wave of nausea at her rough actions, thankful that at least the destroyed side of her face was outside his limited field of vision. His own pain and injuries he could take in stride, but someone else’s because of him was…

He didn’t care for the sensation at all.

Todoroki eased them to the ground through careful manipulation of his quirk, until finally the three heroes and one villain were safely down. Stain had indeed been knocked unconscious, but whether by the punch, kicks or outright fireball was anyone’s guess. Shoto wasted little time securing the villain with some clothesline he found in a dumpster, practically mummifying the older man with the half-frayed rope.

“We need to get him to the street. The pros and the police should be able to handle it from here.” Todoroki said calmly.

“I can drag him!” Tenya offered immediately, taken aback when Todoroki shot him an incredulous look.

“Have you forgotten about your arms, Iida? What will you drag him with?” Shoto deadpanned. Tenya deflated a little. He had almost forgotten the beating he had taken, if he was being honest. Adrenaline.

Moore’s snicker was a half-hearted gurgle at best, the endurance hero scooping Midoriya up onto her back and starting the slow limp to the street. “C’mon Calf Crusher, let’s get you home. I’m sure your pros are really worried about you guys.”

Iida trailed silently after his classmates (friends, he reminded himself), flushed with shame. Moore hung back for a second, letting him come up alongside her and Midoriya.

“Hey, you know that this isn’t your fault, right?” She murmured as best as she could. “I would have done the same thing no matter who the hero killer was going after.”

“I wish I had said something at the train station that day.” Midoriya whimpered. “I could tell that you were hurting, Iida, but I just...I didn’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Iida shook his head dejectedly. “Don’t apologize to me, Midoriya. It’s not your responsibility to look out for my emotional wellbeing. I ought to have better control over my-”

“As your friends, it’s absolutely our responsibility! We need to pay attention to each other in this line of work, Iida!” Midoriya actually interrupted him. “You never know...you never know what could be the thing that pushes someone over their edge! You’ve always been there for the whole class since high school and the one time you needed us, we weren’t there for you!” Izuku was always so passionate about hero work, throwing himself headfirst towards any new challenge they faced. It should be no surprise to Iida that he would have a speech prepared for this situation.

So why were tears blurring his vision further? Tenya tried to no avail to wipe them away with his limp arm, ending up smearing blood across his cheek instead. Moore clicked her tongue at him (an impressive feat in and of itself due to the wounding of her oral cavity), pausing in her forward motion to dig in her pocket and tug out a red bandanna. “Never know when you’ll need a field dressing.” She shrugged, using the cloth to clumsily mop at Iida’s face. “There. That’s better. Look a little less damp.”

“I’m relatively certain that I’m the furthest thing from ‘less damp’ right now. But…” Tenya hesitated, unsure if this was overstepping a classmate or coworker boundary. “Thank you for your, er, concern. I will...do my best to rectify this grave error in judgement.” His bow was, as ever, perfect. “I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

“You don’t need to, Tenya.” Moore using his first name snapped Iida’s eyes up, the large man startled. She gave him a thumbs up and a grin that was a wince, her facial expression a little more kindly than he was used to seeing on her despite the gruesome flap of skin that hung from her cheek. “Let’s go, dude.”

“Will you pull yourself together? You’re the class rep. You're practically our mascot.” Todoroki complained, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Gratitude closed Tenya’s throat and he nodded hurriedly, trying to blink back the fresh wave of tears.

[jennycalendar]

imperfections (64/?)

 read it on ao3!

buffy’s birthday! wesley shows up! someone else makes another appearance, and will be playing a bigger, brand new role in this storyline because I Love Her To Death!

For the sake of her own peace of mind, Jenny had begun casting basic protective wards around the new house. Vampires couldn’t get in, she knew, but the incident with Rupert had proven that vampires might not be the only thing they had to worry about. As such, when she and Willow were out buying groceries (usually Rupert’s job, but he was resting at home), she made sure to grab a few containers of ground-up herbs and spices.

Noticing Jenny stocking up on rosemary, Willow gave her a skeptical look. “Isn’t there that thing about herbs losing their magical potency if they’re intended as food products?” she asked doubtfully, picking up one of the glass jars and squinting at it. “If you’re going for a more heavy-duty magic spell, I’d say you might want to just swing by the magic shop.”

“Wow, look at you!” Jenny knocked Willow’s shoulder, grinning proudly. “You’re picking up on this stuff scary fast. Might outpace me soon.”

“Never,” said Willow loyally, leaning into Jenny as they continued to push the cart.

“Your point is a very valid one,” Jenny agreed. “But in this case, I actually want a weaker ritual, because I’m trying to make sure it’ll entwine nicely with the stronger ones I’ve been casting. If you cast two different protective wards, they start trying to protect themselves from each other, and it becomes a whole thing.”

“Magic is weird,” said Willow.

“Magic is weird,” Jenny agreed, taking the jar from Willow and setting it back down into the shopping cart.

By the produce section, a young woman had stilled, hand frozen midway to grabbing an apple. As they passed her, she turned, looking slowly at them as though searching for something. Jenny recognized her, very vaguely—Anya Jenkins, she thought, that lady who’s teaching substitute history—and Anya’s interest in their conversation struck her as a little unusual. “Hey,” she said, giving Anya her best attempt at an easy smile. She didn’t feel like having her family fucked with so soon after the mess that had been the Council. “Just out shopping with my kid.”

Willow beamed. “That’s me!” she chirped.

“Pardon my eavesdropping,” said Anya, giving them both an almost-too-sweet smile in return, “but were you two talking about the casting of magical rituals?”

Willow’s smile faded and she winced. “Was I too loud?” she whispered to Jenny. “I can be less loud!”

“It’s okay, Will,” said Jenny carefully. “What do you want to know, Anya?”

In answer, Anya let out a playful, half-ashamed laugh. “God, I’m such a ditz,” she said, grinning ruefully and stepping forward to lean against their shopping cart. “I misplaced a family heirloom of mine—this beautifully shiny necklace—and I could really use some help finding it. A locator spell would definitely do the trick, but that requires at least one other witch, and I don’t have a lot of friends in Sunnydale—”

“We can help!” said Willow immediately, then blushed, looking askance at Jenny. “Um, I mean—can we help?”

Jenny wavered. On the one hand, she knew she was more on her guard than usual, and that could be coloring the very strange vibes she was getting from Anya. On the other hand, her instincts hadn’t led her astray thus far, and she felt like trusting them might be a good call in this instance. “We’ll get back to you, Anya, okay?” she said. “Right now, we have to concentrate on our own magic.”

“Oh, of course!” sang out Anya, but her smile seemed just a touch more plastic. “No hurry, obviously!”

As Jenny steered the shopping cart away, Willow hurried after her. “I’m sorry,” she began, “I, I didn’t mean to speak for the both of us, or for any of us, ‘cause I know what you said about doing magic with strangers and I—”

“It’s okay,” said Jenny, giving her a small, reassuring smile. “You wanted to help. That’s admirable. Right now, though, I think we both need to exercise some caution, okay? There are a lot of weird people showing up in Sunnydale as of late.”

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce arrived in Sunnydale on January the 19th, the day that his new Vampire Slayer’s Cruciamentum would have taken place, if not for the inefficient bungling of an inexperienced, foolhardy Watcher. Age did not necessarily equal wisdom, Wesley thought smugly, particularly in the case of one Rupert Giles, whose file Wesley had read extensively before arriving in Sunnydale. The Council had also mentioned a Jenny Calendar, Rupert Giles’s significant other, who was apparently both deluded enough to believe herself qualified to care for his other Vampire Slayer and unstable enough to assault poor Travers. The fellow was, thankfully, making a speedy recovery, but he had emphasized to Wesley that Calendar was not to be trifled with.

Wesley had absolutely no interest in trifling with Calendar. In fact, Wesley had absolutely no interest in Calendar at all. Mr. Giles, though he had been unceremoniously fired (or had he resigned? No one in the Council seemed to know), was bound to at least understand that Wesley was the Watcher these girls needed, and he would do a sufficient job in reining Calendar in. Even if this was not the case, Wesley was confident that his expertise would win the Slayers over; he had, after all, faced two vampires. Under controlled circumstances, of course.

“Sunnydale High, good man, and make it speedy,” he informed the taxi driver, already looking forward to the look on Mr. Giles’s face when he entered the high school library. He was looking forward to a lot of things about this job. He was one of the youngest Watchers in Council history, one of the most studious, most dedicated they had ever seen—this was sure to make his father proud. He just knew it.

The taxi took a surprisingly short amount of time to get from the airport to the high school; really, this town was ridiculously small. Getting out of the car, Wesley blinked in the annoyingly bright California sunlight, weaved through the clusters of chattering American teenagers, and entered the high school that, according to Travers, housed a Hellmouth, two Vampire Slayers, and an extremely volatile computer science teacher.

As he rounded the corner to the library, he noticed something of a commotion: a short, bald, red-faced man was all but shouting at a sign. “I hope he knows,” he blustered, “that I won’t be paying him, this many sick days in a row—”

“I’m sorry,” said Wesley, finally registering the firmly closed library doors, “but is Mr. Giles not in today?”

“No, he is not,” said the man, turning his ire in Wesley’s direction. “And neither is that floozy of a computer science teacher. The levels of unprofessionalism, of indecency—”

Deciding that further conversation with this man would get him nowhere, Wesley stepped up to the sign placed in front of the library, frowning at the neatly placed letters. Librarian Out For Health Reasons, it stated. Library Closed Until Further Notice.

“I’m his substitute,” said Wesley helpfully. This might be rather advantageous. The Slayers would undoubtedly show up in search of their old Watcher, and when they entered the library, there Wesley would be, easing the transition from old to new. A clean break, in every sense of the word.

“You are the best Watcher in the history of Watchers, ever!” Buffy shrieked, throwing herself across the sofa and into Rupert’s arms. Rupert made a startled little oof sound, but hugged Buffy back, grinning fiercely. “Thank you so so much, Giles, I love them so much—”

“Seems a pretty big fuss over a pair of skates,” Faith commented, frowning at the patent leather ice skates as though trying to figure out what made them so incredible.

“Buffy always wanted to be a figure skater,” Joyce explained fondly. She looked extremely pleased. “It’s very nice of Rupert to remind her that she can be anything she wants to be.”

Faith frowned some more, then grinned, getting it. “Like, not just a Vampire Slayer?”

“Exactly,” said Jenny, smiling. “Buffy, be gentle with my honey, okay? He’s still getting over that whole almost-got-murdered thing.”

Buffy let go of Giles, dusting him off and straightening his glasses the same way one would a much-loved teddy bear. “Thanks, Giles,” she said, still beaming. “I really love them. And you, obviously.”

Giles beamed, blushing, and made a few vague, British gestures that very clearly conveyed I love you too.

“Open mine open mine open mine!” chanted Willow, bouncing impatiently on the sofa. Jenny placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Sorry,” said Willow unrepentantly. “But open mine, Buffy!”

Running a hand over the skates one last time, Buffy smiled, then turned to fish Willow’s present out of the sizable pile. Pulling it out of its bag, she gasped, delighted. “Oh, Willow!” she said, holding up the shimmery purple jacket.

“So I’m gonna be flirting with a disco ball,” said Faith. “Guess I can live with that.”

“No one likes a critic,” said Buffy, still grinning as she tried on the jacket. Standing up, she twirled, modeling it for the group. “How do I look?”

“Am I allowed to answer that with your girlfriend here?” Xander asked. “And my girlfriend here?”

“No,” said Cordelia, and kissed him. To Buffy, she added, “That is definitely your color.”

“Are you lying to me because it’s my birthday?” said Buffy.

“Pretty much,” said Cordelia, shrugging.

“Sounds about right,” said Buffy, and turned to Jenny. “Ms. Calendar?”

“I like it,” said Jenny. “I think it’d go great with that—what was that skirt you wore last week on patrol?”

“Oh, it would,” said Buffy with delight, preening. “I can wear it to the ice show!” Glancing shyly over at Giles, she added, “Um, if you’re still—I mean, if you still want—you could always still come with me?”

Giles responded by scooping Buffy up into a big bear hug, one that made Jenny make an involuntarily anxious noise. Joyce gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and said, “Hugging won’t hurt him, Jenny,” which, while true, didn’t stop Jenny from worrying. Everything felt different, now, knowing how much they honestly meant to each other.

“Quit freaking,” said Faith, resting her head on Jenny’s shoulder. “We all turned out okay.”

That made Jenny smile. “Debatable,” she said. Faith made a face at her.

“Ooh, hey, cake!” said Buffy, pulling away from Giles to give her mom a hopeful smile. “Mom made this whole ice cream cake thing, y’know, ‘cause ice skates and ice shows and, um, I don’t know, my birthday’s in winter?”

“That doesn’t mean all that much in California, though, does it?” Cordelia pointed out.

“Whatever,” said Buffy.

“I’ll get that cake,” Joyce agreed, squeezing Jenny’s shoulder as she got up.

So then they all had cake, which was amazing, and Buffy got to talk everyone’s ear off about how awesome the ice show was going to be. And she meant it, this time, because last year she’d gone with her dad and it just hadn’t felt the same. She couldn’t talk to her dad about how cool it had been when Willow had tripped up a vampire on patrol, or how funny Xander’s impression of Spike was, or how hard it sometimes felt to have big, scary feelings for Angel. She could talk to Giles about all that stuff, though, which felt kinda important. It made her feel so, so glad that he was okay.

The party ended late, which meant that Ms. Calendar and Giles had to make sure everyone was wearing a cross before they all walked the short distance to their parked car. While everyone was making sure that everyone else was ready to go, Buffy snuck out onto the porch; she’d noticed the one person who had already headed out.

“Hey,” said Faith, looking up at her with a small, crooked smile. “Birthday girl. So I’m, like, totally jailbait now, huh?”

Buffy blushed, smiling back. “I really don’t know how to answer that,” she admitted, stepping up to stand next to Faith.

It was different, her and Faith. Being with Angel had felt magnetic, and almost scary in its intensity. Being with Faith had felt a lot like that too, at first, but something had changed when Faith had said you said you weren’t ready, right? and looked at her with a gentle expression that Buffy hadn’t seen on her face before. Faith was up-front about how she felt—no long, charged silences, no subterfuge—and she was willing to wait until Buffy was really ready.

“Did I ever wish you happy birthday?” Faith asked softly.

“Does it mean you’re gonna kiss me again?” said Buffy, too daring for her own good.

Faith tilted her head, smile widening. “Just to be clear,” she said. “You’re gonna tell me when you’re ready for a real thing.”

“I am,” Buffy agreed.

“But you’re the birthday girl,” said Faith, taking a step closer, “and birthday girls get strings-free kisses. If they want ‘em.”

“This is a total step up from last year,” Buffy breathed, and somewhere between one second and the next, she and Faith were kissing, all soft and sweet in the moonlight, and it wasn’t scary, wasn’t powerful, wasn’t anything but soft and happy and warm, Faith’s lipstick smudging her mouth, Faith’s nose bumping against hers—

“Um, Buffy?” called Xander from inside the house. “You, uh, know we can all see you from the living room, right?”

In answer, Buffy pulled away, tugged Faith back into her arms, and gave Faith a smacking kiss on the cheek, in full view of her entire family. Which felt totally nice.

[kcrbyn-blog]

hiya babies ! my name is emma, i’m 19, i’m from the est timezone, and if kesha doesn’t stop all this releasing new music without any kind of warning business, i’m going to have a heart attack. this is my lovechild, korbyn el-amin — works at musicology by day, is the lead singer/guitarist of saturdaze whenever she’s not working (occasionally at night). i have been itching to plot with all of you and your beautiful muses already, so pretty please swing through my ims or just like this post for me to magically appear in yours! prepare for rambles beneath the cut.

so, a little info on k:

ever since she could remember, it’s always just been her and her father; the backstory on her mother has always been hazy since she could never get much out of her dad about her, other than that she was no longer in the picture. korbyn knows she’s alive and that is as far as her knowledge goes, she’s not looking to expand it any time soon, either. she’s content with it just being her and her dad — they got along well, settled into a nice little routine that worked well for them, all that jazz 

she’s always been incredibly independent mostly because she’s used to being alone and it’s never really bothered her?? her dad worked his ass off when she was a kid, working for an internet marketing company that demanded he travel quite a bit, so while it’s just the two of them, once work called it dwindled down to just korbyn. she never was one to follow a crowd or try to fit in, she did her own thing and didn’t really give a fuck who liked/approved of it or not?

was also totally the new kid, she didn’t move into newcastle until she was thirteen after her dad quit his marketing job because he was tired of constantly traveling and this didn’t faze her any; she didn’t necessarily enjoy the sleepy atmosphere of newcastle but she wasn’t packing her bags and running back to upstate new york, either

probably came off as rather terrifying/broody but she’s not, really?? like...she’s actually pretty outgoing and charming but she doesn’t take fucking shit, and isn’t about to go chasing after something she’s not really all that interested in anyways

music was the first real, true love of her life; her dad was a huge classic rock junkie and brought her up on it, and the older she got the more and more obsessed with the concept of music just in general?? she listens to just about any genre ( her least favorite is country ) and she started growing quite the vinyl collection after her dad got her a record player for her twelfth birthday. korbyn loves to take apart music and analyze it, from the instrumentals to the lyrics to the production value, all of it, it was her biggest hobby. 

when she was younger, she’d sneak into her dad’s room whenever he wasn’t home and would get his guitar out and teach herself as best she could, and he promised that when they moved, he’d set her up some real lessons (hello musicology)

the cosmogyral has always been one of my favorite labels and i haven’t put it to use in a really long time (thank god for this rp giving me the opportunity to tbh) the definition of the word cosmogyral is ‘whirling around the universe’ and that’s certainly korbyn to a t. she’s never content with stagnancy, she likes to constantly be thinking and doing and moving and striving to be all the things, essentially. korbyn’s a very strategic, take no prisoners kinda girl who acts first and asks the questions later; opinionated, pretty fiery, and often doesn’t have a filter, but she’s also a huge dreamer with a big heart that often gets shadowed by all her steel. she tends to live in her head quite a bit, which comes at its costs. the big part that i usually read into with the cosmogyral is that they are incredibly volatile, they’re easy to flip or turn in their moods and are pretty fickle. korbyn is the type of person who will change her mind a lot about something and she’ll be hella stubborn about it. she sticks to her guns, this one, even if she’s constantly changing them up 

is a highkey rebel, does whatever she wants, says whatever she wants, has probably got into quite a bit of trouble for this but doesn’t really care, she’s your girl if you’re looking to cause some trouble

has evaded the law more than she cares to admit, i’m sure, but she’s hella smart and she’s a charmer

bisexual as fuck, total softie when it comes to romance...like, expect for her to write a fucking song about u

entj, that’s her basically

perfectionist as fuck, it will either be endearing or irritating. a lot of time it dictates how she acts, and she can kinda drive herself over the edge and get so frustrated with herself she’ll just.....riot

also probably smokes a LOT because she’s great at stressing herself out

saturdaze is the fucking love of her life at the moment and the only one she needs, truthfully; she pours every little ounce of herself into the band because it’s what she’s passionate about and the music they play makes her feel so fucking good and happy and it’s not something she wants to let go any time soon

also pretty supportive of all the other bands in town?? she’ll go check them out on nights she doesn’t have practice/work/a gig/plans, girl likes good music and doesn’t care where it comes from

korbyn’s in her last few years of school and she fucking loathes her major now, it was a basic one she just decided on and never changed it and doesn’t really want to do anything with it, and school is driving her off the edge, to the point where she’s on the verge of dropping out and just playing her little local gigs w saturdaze and working the ropes at musicology forever so she doesn’t have to make a decision

this however, is not an option, because her dad is the one paying her way through school and she knows giving a big fuck you to that is a one-way ticket to a conflict she doesn’t want (after years of not having any conflict w her dad, it’s bound to arrive at some point and korbyn believes this will be it) but she just so desperately wants to be happy and live her life the way she wants to that she’s pretty much pulling herself apart at the seams, fun times!!

wanted plots !

these are all just ideas that i’d love to see for k, we obviously can flesh these out as our hearts desire or do spins on them or do something entirely different, i’m open to literally everything but these are pretty much a starting block

ride or die (1/1) — korbyn would literally do anything for this person; she probs gets into all kinds of trouble with them, but they are her Best Friend and she’d trust them with her life if it ever came down to it

awkward ex (0/1) — the two of them dated a little while ago, and the relationship lasted longer than they’d anticipated, and for whatever reason, they decided to go their separate ways. awkward bc korbyn is a fan of their band and still goes to shows when she can and therefore, they see each other quite a bit

skinny love (0/1) — at some point, korbyn realized their friendship was more than just friendship-like feelings on her end but she’ll be damned if she’s the reason she loses this person, so she tries her best to act normal around them but it probably...doesn’t work lmao

enemy she fuckin on the low (0/1) — lmao now THIS person, they get on korbyn’s last fucking nerve and she really can’t tolerate them, but one night they fell into bed together and decided y’know....angry sex really is the best, so while they’re pretty open about their disdain for one another in public, they be hooking up on the down low

sworn to secrecy (1/?) — korbyn enjoys doing stupid shit that attracts trouble, and she and i’m thinkin like maybe two or three other people?? yeah they all did something one night that was FUCKED, and they’d be fucked if anybody ever found out about it so they’re all incredibly close mostly because they share this dirty lil secret

sexual tension (0/?) — they’re all musicians, ok. there’s BOUND to be some sexual tension, whether it’s acted on or not is up to us but korbyn turns on the charm when she sees them at shows (theirs and her own, so someone from a diff band works swell for this), they probably flirt a lot in public...such fun

bad influence (0/2) — korbyn can be a lot to swallow sometimes lmao, and yet this person doesn’t really fucking care, they’re who she can go out and get into fucking trouble with and they encourage her to do shit or! korbyn’s basically corrupting your muse and is bringing them outta their shell 

good influence (0/1) — this person balances out korbyn very well, keeps her outta trouble and tones her down when she gets fired up as best they can, is essentially the little tiny angel sitting on her shoulder

i’m really open to whatever okay just throw it by me if you have a different idea, i’ll probably say yes

i have this queued to drop as soon as we open so i may be off eating dinner, but please don’t hesitate to come message me? like i said, i am dying to write korbyn and get to know you all in the process so please, love me, i beg of you. i’m so fucking excited about this roleplay, guys, i can’t wait to get started x

[rooreelooo]

GOTY 2016

2016 was a really big year for me. It’s the year I got married, purchased my first home, and finished the part-time studies I had been doing outside of work. It’s been very long, and very stressful in places, but also very happy - it’s certainly a year that I will look back on for the rest of my life to come. A lot of people say that 2016 has been the worst year in living history, but I don’t think that it will be remembered that way. I think it will be remembered as the last good year, before everything went fucking bananas.

Assembling this list was really hard! All that stuff I listed up there left me with reduced quantities of both money AND time, and as a result 2016 was a really scant gaming year for me. It’s true that I played a bunch of stuff, but when you strip away everything that was released prior to 2016, as well as the various ports and re-releases, there honestly ain’t all that much left to choose from. I think I ended up having about 13 viable games for this list, so it wasn’t too hard to assemble, but ordering everything up was tough and there were LOTs of last-minute changes.

It was fun though. I kept a gaming diary in 2016, and it was invaluable in assembling this list. I highly recommend that other people do this - keeping notes and recording memories about the games I played was probably the highlight of my gaming year!

Anyway, here’s some video games. There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here, I tried hard to avoid them, so you should be safe if that’s the sort of thing you worry about.

To start with, how about a non-2016 game that I played the hell out of anyway:

Final Fantasy Record Keeper

I need to cover this early - it was my GOTY 2015, but has it managed to stand the test of time? Well obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about it here. I FUCKING LOVE FFRK! I play it every day, multiple times a day, and have so much fun with it… but it’s not just more of the same old thing. This year has shown a lot of improvements to the game itself! It’s easier to get your hands on the items you need to progress, and is far less reliant on gatcha systems, meaning that high-level content can be cleared more consistently and easily. In fact, it’s become so good in that respect that I have transitioned into being fully free-to-play, and haven’t spent a single penny on this game in over 6 months. God, I hope 2017 is as good for FFRK as 2016 and 2015 have been.

that genuine book boy is so fucking good at his job

And a few honourable mentions that didn’t make the cut into the top 10 list but are still worth paying respects to:

Drawful 2

We played the shit outta Drawful 1 last year, and so Drawful 2: Draw Fuller was always gonna be a knockout in this household. The addition of a second colour is a fun gag, and the custom draw prompts added a unique way for us to have a good time too, but it turns out the one addition that my friends all needed was the simplest one of all - MORE Drawful to play. After wearing out all the prompts in Drawful 1 through overuse, the blank slate afforded to us by the sequel has been the biggest justification of purchase of all.

next, please make drawful 3

Final Fantasy Explorers

This was always gonna be a weird one. Going into it I really thought this was gonna be a huge gamble, and that Final Fantasy Meets Monster Hunter would either rocket to all-new heights or plummet to destructive lows. The end result surprised me in as much as it did… neither of those? It’s a fair-to-middling Monster Hunter me-too that is pretty fun if you like that sort of thing, which I do, so I enjoyed it! I didn’t have anyone to play it with though and the single player stuff is not the main focus, so it was never able to make my top 10 for that reason.

on the whole this was a good year for chocobos

And as for the actual top 10 list list…

10. Xenoblade Chronicles X

I know this is technically a 2015 game, but it was such a late-year release that I never got a chance to load it up until January this year, so I’m grouping it together with these. The first Xenoblade game is the secret best JRPG of the decade, tucked away on the Wii of all places, and so I had high hopes for the “sequel” finger quotes.

In reality, this is not so much a descendant of the first game as it is a weird distant cousin - the narrative is tonally and stylistically very different, and the gameplay even moreso. This world, with its sprawling horizons, gigantic aliens, and evocative atmospheres, took my breath away as the most immersive gameplay world of the year. Every environment feels handcrafted and perfectly balanced to have a different look and feel - stepping into Primordia makes you feel as if you are breathing a cold lungful of air on a crisp winter morning, and then stepping into the rainforest continent (I forgot its name) is almost like stepping into a warm cloud of colours and humidity that reminded me of coming indoors in my winter coat and feeling the cold breath in my lungs suddenly turn into condensation. The graphics may not be the strongest, but XCX really really makes good use of what it has.

The game manages to shock you with a few paradigm shifts along the way as well, upping the pace and scale in such a way that everything beforehand feels like a different game. The fact that it’s capable of pulling this exact same trick like 3 or 4 times is outstanding.

XCX’s biggest crime is that it drowns itself in features and systems. Every menu hides like another 5 or 6 submenus, and although it all sorta slots in place eventually it’s a steep climb; one which requires you to read a 142-page pdf to become fluent in it. I never completed it because eventually it sorta coalesced into an impenetrable slurry of pointless sidequests, repetitive character interactions, and enemies who will oneshot your robot suit and set you back millions of dollars in repair funds. I may not have finished it, but I don’t think these alien world will ever leave my memories.

Something else that will never leave my memories: The weird soundtrack, with its overly-literal lyrics.

a rare shot of the fabled ‘non-destroyed’ skell in its natural habitat, taken moments before it was destroyed

9. Pokémon GO

For the few weeks I played this game, I loved it. I loved being a part of the zeitgeist. I have always loved the Pokémon series, and that brief window of time in which seemingly everyone in the world shared my passion made me feel incredible. Every café and shop on my street had images of Charmander and Pikachu in the window, advertising themselves as Pokémon GO-friendly environments. So fucking weird, but also so fucking cool!

When I said ‘for the few weeks I played this game’ though, I was being generous. The hype was like Charizard’s flamethrower - rapidly escalating into something huge and volatile, but swiftly dissolving afterwards leaving little sign that it had ever existed save for a comically-burnt Ash Ketchum, puffing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth in shock. It took me about 15 days or so to see and evolve every pokémon that was native to my hometown, and from that point onwards the gimmick of seeing the same stuff over and over again lost it’s lustre. Catching a Magnemite on my way to work was cool! Catching a Magnemite on my way home again was pretty good too. Catching nothing but Magnemites every day is not so fresh. Also, battling gyms was boring and it didn’t take me long to realise that it was tedious enough that I would never care about it in my entire time with this game. The tribal mentality between the three teams rubbed me the wrong was as well, and having my friends plant their flag in the sand in a different team to me for seemingly no reason other than to incite inter-team conflict rubbed me the wrong way. Why can’t we all just get along???

If it sounds like I’m pretty negative about this game, then yeah I guess at this point I sorta am. I haven’t played it properly in months, even the arrival of some Generation II pokémon recently failed to rekindle my passion. The thing that ranks this so highly on my list is the memories of that one wild fortnight… that post-release window where it was like I was in my childhood again, from the groups of friends eagerly discussing where they had seen certain monsters to the constant news reports questioning the effect it was having on the nation’s children. God I miss the 90s.

this game was released in july and i didnt see any pikachus until december, whats up with that

8. Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright

Fire Emblem games should have three things I think - fun and memorable characters, units with a variety of diverse battlefield skills, and challenging maps that require strategy to overcome. I believe that this game delivers the second and third items on the list in great quantities, but shortchanges you a little on the first one. Corrin never quite manages to become as interesting as more memorable protagonists of past Fire Emblem games like Ike, Chrom, Robin, and… uh… Marth? Hmm, my lack of experience and knowledge about this series is failing me here, sorry.

There are two kinds of people I think - people who play the Fire Emblem series because they want to enjoy a complex tactical RPG, and people who play it because they want to play matchmaker with an army of anime soldiers, choosing who gets to kiss eachother and have babies. This is where the problem lies - I didn’t think it would be an issue for me that this game lacks memorable characters because I arrogantly thought I was the former kind of person. You know, the kind who wants to look at numbers, study maps, and strategise his way to victory. I was laughably wrong though, and it turns out that I was obviously the latter kind of person all along. Without being able to spark any wild or interesting couples within my army I just didn’t have as much fun as I could have with this game.

Still, a Fire Emblem game that delivers on two out of three fronts remains a VERY good game nonetheless, and I had loads of fun with Birthright this year. I never did get round to playing Conquest or Revelation. Maybe the story would have made more sense to me if I had completed all three chapters? Probably not.

Shoutout to Azama for being the hidden best character in the game - if I was picking a Character Of The Year award it would almost certainly go to this dude.

love that magical donkey

7. Pony Island

The developer to Pony Island wanted to create a game that felt like it wasn’t meant to be played, and that sums up this game better than anything I could have ever come up with. Satan has trapped your soul inside an unwinnable video game, and only by tearing it to pieces and fucking with the internal coding can you ever hope to escape. It’s so cryptic and it’s so grimy and it’s so unsettling and it’s so weird, I LOVED it! Coming into this game completely blind was a hugely rewarding experience, so if you don’t know anything about it then you’re perfectly primed to grab it and enjoy it too.

Despite loving it so much, I really don’t have much else to say… and even if I did, I would be hesitant about accidentally spoiling some of the endgame aces that it has up its sleeves. If I was choosing a ‘boss battle of the year’, or a ‘moment of the year’, then Pony Island would win both of those because of one specific antagonist later in the game who manages to do something that I have NEVER seen a video game do in my life, and that I didn’t even think was possible. You gotta see this shit for yourself, seriously!

Buried deep within this satanic gaming cabinet, with its filthy surfaces and fractured display, lies a nest of some of the most creative, surprising and unsettling game design I saw all year. I’m not gonna forget this game in a hurry, and the only thing stopping it ranking higher on my list was the fact that at a few points it puts its entire premise to one side and asks you to do a little legitimate puzzle solving. Those sections were HARD.

pony island will ask a LOT of you

6. Orwell

This was one of two narrative episodic games I played this year, and I was unsure what order to put them both in, although Orwell ended up being my slightly less-favourite of the two. It’s still super good though! You play as a faceless government agent tasked with solving the mystery of who has been committing a slew of terrorist attacks, and your main methods of interacting with the game world involve monitoring civilian conversations, hacking into people’s computers, and trawling the internet for snippets of info related to your case.

Delving into the personal lives of the characters and invading their privacy to such a degree was very scary! Especially when you realise that there is no right answer to be found - it’s not about digging until you find the truth, it’s about coming up with your conclusions beforehand and then pulling snippets of info out of their original context so they can be used to support your argument. Turns out that the long weird rant this lady posted on her Facebook wall is PERFECT for framing her as a terrorist when you omit half of it and only provide the bits where she talks about how much she hates the government.

It’s a game about context, and the lack thereof - and how this can be manipulated to meet your goals. It doesn’t quite stick the landing when it gets to the final chapter, but the journey to get there is fun, memorable, and realistically malevolent.

sorry the screenshots are super dense so it’s really hard to make it resize cleanly

5. The Lion’s Song: Episode 1 - Silence

I haven’t played the later episodes of this game yet - I think there are 4 in total, but I’ve only played the first one. Still, it took me by surprise how touching it was. You play as Wilma, a young WWI-era musician who is struggling to overcome her writer’s block and compose a new melody for a performance she has been booked into against her will. The scope is VERY small, VERY intimate, and VERY personal - trapped in a mountain cabin and awaiting the passing of a storm that has stranded her there, we guide her through her creative process, help her adapt to the environment, and discover sources of inspiration buried in the world around her. I was fascinated by the slow process of finding her muse by unravelling all her anxieties and worries, and when I got to the end I felt like I had been welcomed into something deeply personal.

It’s also worth mentioning how amazing the game looks. It barely uses 6 colours throughout the entire game, but it uses them well enough to present mountain ranges and forest in a suitably ominous and gloomy scope. The whole thing looks like a cross between an upscaled DOS adventure and a box of of WW2-era photos.

I think that each chapter is a standalone narrative, mediating on various aspects of the human condition as they relate to creativity and inspiration, so I'm really keen to explore the other three episodes. If they can retain the scale and intimacy of narrative and the detail of characterisation then I will be very pleased.

colours? who needs em, surely you only need 6 of them to make a picture

4. Stardew Valley

Stardew Valley, aka Harvest Moon 2016, aka One Concerned Ape’s Love Letter To Farming Simulation. Throughout 2016 I made a few attempts at getting into this game. I also made a few attempts at getting Steff into this game. She ultimately ended up grabbing a refund on it because she didn’t like the way that it ‘copied everything about Harvest Moon’, but personally that never bothered me much at all. It’s true that this builds heavily on that series, but it’s way more of a loving homage than a cheap imitation - every inch of this game seems lovingly hand crafted by one guy who, upset over the decline in that series, decided to rectify that himself and smooth over all the creases to bring us the Game That Harvest Moon Should Have Been.

It’s amazing! I love it, I haven’t got this invested in a farming sim since 2001 when I pored over Harvest Moon 2 on the Gameboy Colour - I loved to systematically dig up squares, plant stuff, run out of money, wonder what the hell you had to do to get animals, restart my save file in frustration, and do it all again. If that sounds like a pointless waste of time, then yeah you’re probably right - but I was like 12 years old at the time, so cut me some slack. While it’s true that I ended up running through that EXACT same sequence of events again as a 27 year old, this time I got to do it in a game with a much prettier soundtrack, much more interesting characters, a more compelling narrative, and a greater variety of things to do and see along the way.

My one gripe with it is that I REALLY wish there was a handheld version, or a Wii U version that I could play on the gamepad. I feel like that is where this game belongs, and only being able to play it on a PC or a TV is a massive downer to me. God, it’s awful that the Wii U version was cancelled. Maybe 2017 will be the year I play this on the Switch and actually make some good progress on it. (Also the fishing minigame sucks, sorry but it’s true.)

fuck big business

3. World of Warcraft: Legion

One of my biggest gripes about WoW is that there are many many different choices you can make about your character, but very few of them have any noticeable distinction. In this world that is defined by constant skirmishes, struggles for power, uneasy alliances and clashes over the individual interests of each faction, you’d think that the play experience would have meaningful differences depending on which race and class you choose. But nope. Call it a gameplay limitation if you want, or a deliberate design decision, but whatever the reason it basically means that within the 111 possible race/class combinations of the game, there is only one meaningful choice - you gonna be Alliance or Horde? Once you decide that, it all kinda blurs together from that point onwards.

That’s why I loved Legion so much. For the first time in memory, the questing experience is different depending on class! If you’re like me and you play as a druid because you love their culture and lore, then Legion will be an expansion pack that sees you visiting signifiant druid locations, interacting with major druid characters, recovering important druid artifacts, and carrying out a druid-specific mission. Finally, I can actually start to feel as if my character's identity is a worthwhile choice to make and not just some unimportant fluff in the background!

The Alliance / Horde distinction has been kicked to the kerb, and instead the twelve different classes are all banding together across race and faction boundaries to deal with the impending threat of the legion in the ways which make most sense to them. It actually made me care about the story of the expansion, since the feeling of ‘oh shit everything is going wrong, we all need to do whatever we can to help the war effort’ really pushed through.

As always with WoW, I had a hell of a lot of fun questing to the level cap and then I dropped that shit like it was hot as soon as I ran out of unique and interesting missions to do. I have never cared about the ‘MMO’ part of MMORPGs, but this expansion in particular seemed to have a larger amount of awful dungeon experiences than the normal. I don’t know if that’s unique to Legion or if the general trend of player assholeishness has risen since I last played WoW, but it’s kinda just encouraging me to entrench even further in my mindset of ‘I’m just gonna do all these fun quests, enjoy all this dumb lore, and pretend that I’m the only one here by ignoring all these strangers.’ As always, this remains a perfectly legitimate way to enjoy an MMORPG.

oh the emerald dreamway is so so so so so pretty

2. Bravely Second: End Layer

I love Final Fantasy. I’m just gonna put that out there first, because it’s gonna contextualise a lot of what I say about Bravely Second. The Bravely series doesn’t fall under the FF banner and it lacks the FF name, but I would definitely class it as ‘FF adjacent’ as a result of of the shared heritage and development teams. The distinction is very important - by severing the game from the baggage of the FF series, it actually allows it the freedom to become one of the greatest games in this genre I have ever played.

I loved this game so so much. Gameplay wise it takes the most well-loved system from a Final Fantasy game (the job system of FFV) and polishes it until is is flawless. Every job is fun and gives you meaningfully unique abilities to use, and the game expects you to constantly shuffle these around and find fun combinations to help you out. I don’t know which of the new jobs are my favourite. Is it the Exorcist, who can heal your party by basically hitting Ctrl-Z and undoing any enemy attacks that you don’t like? Is it the Guardian, who can possess your other allies to share with them all of their stats and abilities? Is it the Kaiser, who is able to impose radical changes that affect both party members and enemies alike, forcing all involved to adjust their battle strategies to accommodate the new conditions? Or is it the Catmancer, who utilises kitties to assassinate people and gather information via the Informeowtion Superhighway? The answer is that it’s a team of all four, working alongside eachother in perfect harmony.

Quality of life additions like the ability to adjust the frequency of random encounters and the ability to chain enemies together for greater rewards encourage you to interact with random battles on your own terms - sure I guess the logical follow up question is ‘why do we even need the random encounters in the first place’, but… I dunno if you start to tug on that loose thread then you might end up unravelling the entire sweater and ending up with no video game at all. You need to have battles, otherwise there’s no canvas on which to experiment with all the cool jobs and abilities.

If I can talk about the story as well, it’s pretty neat. The first game in this series had a very ambitious plot twist in the middle of it that required you to replay huge chunks of the game multiple times in order to carry a narrative about ‘time repeating itself over and over again across alternate universes’. It was a neat idea with a clumsy-as-fuck execution that was borderline unplayable, and I can say that this game manages to pull off its mid-game switcheroo with MUCH more skill and finesse. No spoilers, but I REALLY liked the way the paradigm ended up shifting, and your team of always-one-step-behind-the-enemy losers manage to get their shit together and hurl some massive spanners into the internal workings of causality.

With some genuinely emotional character stories blended into the mix, excellent voice acting, fun side characters, amazing enemy designs, and a few boss battles that really made you reconsider certain truths that are taken for granted in a JRPG system, this is probably the best game of its kind I have ever played in my life. The few flaws that it had pales in comparison to all the things it did which just blew. my. fucking. mind.

most impractical design for a town 2016

1. Pokémon Sun Version

Sun & Moon may mark the beginning of the Seventh generation of Pokémon, but they themselves are the 16th swing at a main series Pokémon game (assuming that you’re counting the ones that were released in pairs as a single game). Game Freak always tries to stave off the feeling of repetition by mixing and matching some of the secondary features, so to a certain extent every Pokémon game comes with it’s own look and feel. In Sun & Moon however, the shakeup is far bigger than it’s ever been in the past, and for the first time in a long long time the game feels truly fresh and unique.

This game has more tiny changes than I can count! They’re all little things that you might overlook, but when taken en masse they are kinda amazing. See you in hell HMs! Those are gone. Also the unpopular Mega Evolution has been… not kicked, but nudged to the kerb in favour of the far more interesting and accessible Z-Moves. Changes to the EXP system allow you to switch your party members and catch up new monsters with greater frequency, preventing you from feeling like you got locked into a bad decision. The gym battles have been given a fresh coat of paint and rebooted as Trial challenges, something that is fundamentally the same but brings a different kind of experience and allows for a more flexible approach to gameplay progression. I could keep listing new shit, but I don’t need to do that here - maybe these are all small changes, but for me they felt huge. I didn’t have any gripes with the series beforehand, but I love these games and I want to see them try new things! More importantly, I want them to create lots of legroom for themselves to allow them to keep growing and changing in the future! This is a positive step on that path.

I’ve been trying to keep a spoiler-free policy in this list, and that’s not gonna change, which is a shame because I’d really really really love to talk in detail about the storyline to this game, and how much I enjoyed it! I’d also like to talk about the main characters, specifically the way they grow and change as the game goes on and the narrative starts to get stranger and more bizarre. I won’t though - I will say however that in a general sense, this game works harder than any before to tie each character into the larger story than any previous games have - too often in this series it feels like you, despite having no personal stake in the narrative, are forced to resolve it singlehandedly. This time around that is NOT the case.

TEAM SKULL ARE SO GOOD. They… god, I can’t get over how good they are! In the pantheon of Weird Pokémon Teams Who Are Trying To Do Fucked-Up Shit, they take the top slot as most memorable, most entertaining, and most overall satisfying as antagonists. There’s no ‘wipe out humanity for no reason’ or ‘flood the world because we feel like it’ rubbish here, their role in the story is legit as hell.

Look, there’s not really much else I can say here! Nintendo took a series that I love very dearly, and shook it up to give me something that is both refreshingly new and reassuringly similar. This is the best Pokémon I have ever played, even better than Black & White which, up until now, were my favourites. I’m really happy that I got to experience this, and I can’t wait to see what happens to this series in the future.

exeggutor is the manifestation of the stupid ‘eggs tree’ gag from homestarrunner