#so if i wanted to induce that intentionally i had to get treated first right? logically?
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I still yearn.
I still long for things I have no access to, I still long for my god, I fear he is distant.
He is the god of mental health, too. He is the god of taking your meds. I know this.
I cannot help missing the all-consuming rush of emotions unbridled, mind spinning, vision tunneled, hands buzzing with glorious tension. Excitement, ecstacy, blinding rage, all intense, all burning.
We never talk about how it feels good. We are already judged enough as it is.
It's better this way, I know. It's better calm, feeling reasonable amounts at a time, not hurting myself, not hurting those around me.
I fear I have lost his madness with the rest.
It is better this way, I know.
Maybe now, I can find purely Dionysus, instead of the hateful creations of my own mind.
#dionysus#borderline personality disorder#actually bpd#im on welbutrin for my adhd and a very unexpected side effect was calming my emotions and making my dbt way more effective#ig therapy works better when you can focus and remember stuff lol#i used to get so hyper id literally be bouncing and so filled with rage my vision somehow did seem white and blinded#id also get fear so intense and hurt shame sadness so intense that it felt like the world was ending#actually fucking ending#it's not a fun thing#except that it is sometimes. the excitement especially#and bpd is already so stigmatized that even if others experience any of this id be shocked if they said so? idk#anyway one of the things ive read that stuck with me was about proving godly possession is a process of elimination#including going to mental health experts#AND your own personal religious leaders#so if i wanted to induce that intentionally i had to get treated first right? logically?#at the very least now it'll be way easier to tell if it's dionysus or just bpd#i felt called to write this so here it is
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Venting about my relationship with my father
my dad has always treated taking breaks as a bad thing, when summer rolled around he would give me and my sister homework. When we had a vacation we would spend at least the first 3 days just cleaning because when we were all working all the time the house got neglected. Now with an empty nest, dad is still struggling with breaks. Any phone call I have with him between semesters in college always turns back to what I could be spending my time doing or learning. What I learn of my own free will on my own time never feels like it's enough for him, I can learn 50 interesting facts and share them all over dinner with him when we're visiting each other and it's always "what are you really studying?" The World. I study the world. all of it. the parts of history that my schools' cirriculum intentionally avoids, mathematical puzzles, video game mechanics through the ages, evolutionary biology, current events, politics, philosophy, etc.
I know the answer he wants, he wants me to be researching circuitry, mechanical engineering, the next level of calculus, physics. the things he excelled at when he was my age. the things that got him a lucrative career being the most useful man in a company, to the point that if he takes a day off nobody will be able to work. it gets him money, sure, but it takes all of his time and all of his joy.
I love him and I want him to be proud of me. I wish he could understand me. Sometimes I feel like he's the only person that could understand me, and the fact that he just doesn't, it hurts.
I have friends. and the simple fact is that my dad doesn't. Anyone he knew before college he calls a lost cause or a drug addict or a criminal asshole, everyone he knew in college were labeled as drunks, all his coworkers are at least 100 miles away. I spend time with my friends. It's an investment that he doesn't understand. I don't know how to help him.
I am physically and mentally disabled. He is in total denial. insisting that stuff like pots, fibromyalgia, exercise induced asthma, can just be solved with the right exercise. That the answer to anxiety is to just calm down. That Adhd can be solved with meds. (not treated, not helped, solved) that autistic sensory overload can be helped by listening to music loud enough to damage your hearing so you don't hear the overwhelming noise (I am not kidding, this is what he said he did to himself).
and despite all these very important problems I have with him, he's still the quiet, kind, empathetic, respectful dad he's always been. And I love him for the person he is. I just don't feel seen by him.
I'm afraid that if I don't live up to his expectations he'll be disappointed in me. He has a blatant dislike of people who he sees as burdens to people around them, and I'm afraid that my disabilities will put me in that category. What if what I end up being able to contribute to the world isn't enough for him? Will I ever be enough for him?
#this feels like a diary entry#parents#autism#my dad has autism and is in denial#because he has a high IQ#actually disabled#fibromyalgia
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we all know kaeya would thrive under a bleeding heart darling, but you know who also would? gorou and xingqiu. even if gorou says it’s fine, his dropping ears and tail say otherwise and how can you be so mean to such a deflated puppy? and if you finally say no to xingqiu all he has to do is act a bit dejected and say sorry! he was just really excited to finally have someone to share his interests with. he really didn’t mean to bother you :(
YES they would be!
It's definitely a lot more intentional on Xingqiu's end, and more subconscious for Gorou. But like, come ON, look at him! Can you really say no to that face?
Kaeya's more manipulative with words without needing to act pitiful, whereas these two do something (similar to Venti) where they go for full pity act. And yes with Gorou it's the tail and ears falling downward. Watching his tail go from wagging to slowly droop down is so guilt-inducing, feels like a stab to the heart. He's more... quiet, he accepts it and murmurs a soft oh, okay... that you just can't bring yourself to accept. And likewise, when you backpedal and say you changed your mind, it's okay now, you'll do whatever it was he was wanting to do, watching those ears perk back up and the tail resume it's swishing back and forth feels like a relief to your racing heart.
Xingqiu is a lot more of a brat and much more intentional, immature even. He's more willing to express blatant frustration, crossing his arms and getting this scowl on his face, starts giving you a sort of cold shoulder, but with a sort of very visible hurt to it. If you press him to speak, he intentionally comes across as quiet and hurt, muttering fine, I see... of course, he's very closely watching your expression to make sure his guilt-inducing act is working as intended.
The worst part with Xingqiu specifically though is that unlike Gorou, he doesn't just eagerly accept your backtrack and apology, no. Gorou is more volatile, his emotions can change with just the slightest positive or negative treatment from you, but once you treat him positively, any sadness or hurt he had has disappeared and forgotten. Xingqiu holds bitterness over hurt a lot longer, so he won't accept your apology at first -- no, you're right, go do that, it's more important anyway... and you have to be the one to end up more or less asking for forgiveness before he'll finally do a complete turnaround and perk back up, once he feels that the necessary groveling requirements have been met.
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What do you make of Specter's operator record? Personally I liked it, but that's with the knowledge we're getting more Specter backstory soon.
Ok, so! Just as you pointed out, I went into it with the knowledge that:
We're getting Under TIDES soon.
Specter gets a second Operator Record later, some time after Under TIDES.
And with that in mind, I'm fine with it, but if I was a CN player and all we got was Specter's first Operator Record without any knowledge of the future, I would be pretty pissed, lmao. In fact, CN players were pretty pissed, the reception to her Operator Record was pretty bad. Specter is a popular character both in terms of gameplay and character (the latter more so in China, she gets a steady influx of cosplayers, fanart and fanfic in Weibo, Lofter, and such). It's believed that Hypergryph announced her second Operator Record because of this backlash.
Now, with the context and preamble on the table, I want to say: Great idea, not so great execution. Overall, I enjoyed it, but again, that's only with knowledge of the future. Despite that, I sincerely praise Hypergryph for actually having the balls to try a narrative approach like this one on a mobile game. The thing is, just because an idea is interesting doesn't mean it's good, and I think a lot of aspiring writers and designers need to hammer that in their head, especially armchair game designers that like to theorize oh so much about how cool it would be to have a game that did this or that. I don't care if it's cool or not, is it enjoyable to experience?
And that's just the thing with Specter's Operator Record: It felt lackluster in many regards. The approach was definitely interesting, bold, I'd even say, but that doesn't really matter too much if the result isn't a success, now, does it? Let's immediately address the Originium Slug in the room: Specter doesn't even appear in it. Now, is that an interesting approach to an Operator Record? Sure! Is it good? I don't really think so, especially with a character that fans really have been clamoring to see more of in actual cutscenes, given the wealth of clues they've put regarding Specter in other places:
Blue Poison' Files -> We learn that Blue Poison knew Specter personally before her descent to madness, addressing her with her real name.
Skadi's Dialogue -> Skadi implies that Specter was on a very important mission, and more or less confirms she knew her before she went crazy.
Several pieces of official art -> Specter is associated with the phrase "All seas are singing your name".
Ceobe's Fungimist -> It's implied the cursed painting depicting the end times is the same confusing painting Specter painted in her Token.
Rosmontis' Files -> It's confirmed that Specter's spinal cord is filed to the brim with originium fluid, and the Medical Team theorizes that, just like Rosmontis, her infection was artificially induced. It also confirms that they have no idea how Specter is able to fight such an insanely high level of infection.
So, see, this has been a character that fans have really been clamoring to see again. The only cutscene Specter's ever been is the secret cutscene of Grani and the Knight's Treasure AKA the very first event in the game. Understandably, after two years of the game existing, people were a bit miffed that once again we just get breadcrumbs and a non-participation 'appearance', to say the least, in what's supposed to be her day in the limelight.
Now, personally, I kind of get how they are handling her, and the Operator Records are a very faithful reflection of this: Specter is meant to be this mysterious force that we don't have clearance to know about, as Kal'tsit herself is the only one authorized to treat her or even enter her containment quarters. And, in this regard, I think the Records succeed:
It all starts innocently with Suzuran drawing Specter in a Secret Santa and then having to start deep diving to find out who the hell even IS Specter, because absolutely no one knows of her. Eventually, Suzuran lucks out by asking Meteorite, who did participate in a mission with Specter once, to which Suzuran immediately reacts: "Hey hold on, don't they send you on pretty dangerous missions all the time?", and Meteorite's answer is, "Yeah, and she's right at home there."
Now, this is really interesting because we, as Doctor, have some level of clearance: We know things about Specter and can even converse with her to a certain degree, because Doctor is a high authority in Rhodes Island, but the average Operator, like Suzuran, Aosta and Chiave, doesn't even know of her existence. She's one of Rhodes Island's well kept secrets, even within Rhodes Island. Even Meteorite, a veteran Sarkaz mercenary and a bombardment expert, only knows about Specter in a need-to-know basis (because they deployed once together). More telling is the fact that Meteorite doesn't think she'd get along with Specter, simply based on the fact that, just on that one operation, the level of violence and carnage brought upon by Specter unnerved even her, a Kazdel Sarkaz veteran. Well, to be precise, it's not the sheer level of destruction that Specter is capable of that unnerved Meteorite, it's the fact that she does it all seemingly without a care in the world, expressionless, soundless, simply following orders to the letter without showing or taking in a single emotion. To paraphrase Meteorite, "someone that can unleash such destruction and violence upon others so easily, and that can then just not mind it in the slightest, has something wrong and concerning going on with them, no doubt".
Next up, we also learn that Folinic has very restricted, also on a need-to-know basis access to Specter. Keep in mind that Folinic is extremely competent and not at all a stranger to danger: She handles Phantom. So this is a huge hint: There's perhaps more to the secrecy regarding Specter than just her being a dangerous, unstable element. Folinic could reasonably handle Specter professionally, but it's not about whether she can or not, it's about information, and this brings us back to Grani and the Knight's Treasure: Kal'tsit makes it clear to Skadi that Specter is, as a whole, inaccessible to everyone but her, that only she has clearance to access Specter's quarters. Keep in mind that Skadi does not operate in the same conditions, despite also being an Abyssal Hunter. In fact, it's well known that Skadi is infamous among other Operators for being unreasonable and obstructive in operations, as well as unapproachable outside of them (unless you are Grani, who managed to successfully befriend Skadi and vouches for her). There's things about Specter that are so sensitive, so important, that Kal'tsit can't risk them getting out, and even using her as an Operator is something reserved for very dangerous operations. Not even Warfarin, senior staff and Operator that's been with Rhodes Island for a very long time, has full access to Specter, but she clearly knows the importance of keeping her under curtains, given she immediately diffused the Folinic-Suzuran situation by coming up with a compromise on the spot.
There's another interesting contrast between Files and the Operator Record: Meteorite describes Specter as "dead silent". Mind you, we knew from before, thanks to Specter's Files, that the shark is completely silent in battle, but we also do know that she incoherently rambles quite a lot. Folinic sheds some light onto this, explaining that Specter intentionally stays silent most of the time so as to not say anything that could be misunderstood when around others. When she's in a more private setting, however, she does let loose with the insane talk. This is confirmation of something that had been hinted at before: Even though she's insane, there's a fervent part of her clinging onto sanity for dear life with bloodied, splintered fingers, and it manifests itself in how she'll never harm an ally, and how Specter is, to a certain degree, aware of how far gone she is, and thus keeps her mouth shut around others that aren't Doctor or Kal'tsit, so as to not spook them out or accidentally threaten them with her insane rambling.
Then, at the very end, after Suzuran managed to get her present to her, Specter does in fact deliver a thank you present back to Suzuran: A music box, consistent with Specter's love for the arts. Of course, the gift might have been chosen by a proxy of hers (Skadi or Blue Poison, both known to also enjoy music), but the message is all the same: Specter clearly appreciated the gift, and was mentioned to see an improvement in her condition after receiving the doll Suzuran gave her.
So, in paper? All of this? I love it. Of course I do, she's my favorite character, and it was such a bold way to present her Record, too, I respect them trying out new things, it managed to capture the essence of "the mysterious, terrifying fighting machine Operator they don't want us to know about that's actually a pretty sweet and decent person, just going through some really hard stuff" that they've been going for with Specter, it's just, I can also understand (and agree with) fans because... It's been two years, bwahaha, let us see her again, you know? It's her Operator Record, we've gotten some VERY good insights into the lives and days of other Operators through those, like with Angelina's or Kroos'! Of course we also wanted something like that, bwahaha.
What I would've loved, and what I think would've made it all better with fans, is if the final scene had Specter actually show up in Suzuran's room like the cryptid she is, with Suzuran noting the security door had just sort of been casually pried open, Specter's perpetual smile on her face as she's holding her thank you gift before Warfarin and Folinic just sort of storm into the room like "DUDE, WE SAID YOU CAN'T--", she thanks Suzuran wordlessly, gently hands her the music box, and then she calmly turns back and walks back to her confinement quarters.
But, yeah, I've gone on for long enough. I appreciate it overall, knowing what's coming, and I appreciate the idea, I just think they could've handled it better, but the whole essence and message of it, I think lands pretty nicely.
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Suicidal Misunderstanding X
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX
“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”
Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.
Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”
Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.
”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.
Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.
"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”
At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.
Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."
It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced.
“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.
“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making.
“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.
“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”
“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?”
“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“
Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.
At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on.
Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.
Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.
Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.
Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.
Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.
“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”
“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.
“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.
“Lets go back.”
Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.
“What exactly did he...”
“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”
“Did he have anything to eat?”
“How did that compare to...”
“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.
“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”
“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”
“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous.
“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.
Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.
“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”
“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.
“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said.
“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.
“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”
“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.”
“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”
“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”
“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”
“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”
“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.
“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.
“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.”
They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?
“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”
Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory.
“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”
Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”
“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.
Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-
“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.
“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”
“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”
Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years.
“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”
“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”
Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-”
He ran out.
He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.
Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.
“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”
“Knight Skywalker-”
“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-”
Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.
Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.
“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”
“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”
“Anger.”
Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash.
“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.”
“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”
A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view.
“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”
“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.”
Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.
“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.”
Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.
“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement. The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely.
Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.
“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”
“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”
“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”
They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.
Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.
The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”
Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.
“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”
“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.
“Bant!”
“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”
“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”
“No.” Anakin whispered.
“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”
Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.”
“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply.
Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster. “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”
Everyone stared at him.
“What?”
“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.
Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”
“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”
“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”
“Anakin. When did this happen?”
“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”
“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.
“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”
“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?”
He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme.
To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.
“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”
Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.
“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-”
“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.
“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”
Everyone nodded.
“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”
Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...
-
“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...”
“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”
“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”
-
“-his neck”
“Why would he change weapons?”
“What if-”
-
“He said what to you and Healer Che?”
“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”
“I’m sorry, Emperor?”
-
“I think we’re done.”
Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”
“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”
“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”
“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”
The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.
“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions.
They bowed low, then glided out the door.
Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.
Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”
“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”
Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.
Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.
“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.
“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.
Master Windu held back a sigh.
He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”
Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...
“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”
-
Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).
The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’
The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.
“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.
“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”
She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-”
“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.
“Oh gods, is he-”
“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”
“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”
“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.
“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”
“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”
"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.
Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.
He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”
She grabbed the sides of his head.
Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”
He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.
“Now you,” she demanded
“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”
She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.
Part XI
#star wars#my au#suicidal misunderstanding au#prequel trilogy#potentially triggering#discussions of suicide#references to self-harm#star wars au#bonding? between#Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker#? in my#hurt/comfort fic#? It’s more likely than you’d think#also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to#live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there#ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok.#meh#a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections#Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular.#star wars au no 27
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Garreg Mach Café Episode Two: Lucky Seven (Yuri x Reader)
The first thing you learned about him —one of the very few things you knew about him— was that he liked sugar. A lot. You didn’t work the counter most of the time, you just made the drinks. So, you didn’t know who had ordered the heart attack inducing Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe, only that someone was looking for a cavity. Vanilla bean coffee, three pumps of vanilla syrup, and strawberry puree with ice blended and topped with whipped cream, hazelnut drizzle, strawberry drizzle, and red sprinkles.
The second thing you learned about him was his name. Or, more accurately, his lack thereof. People regularly used dumb names. It didn’t really bug you, there was no shame in entertaining someone who thought making a barista call out a drink for Phun E. Monki was the peak of modern entertainment. Not so surprisingly, you saw a lot of hipster and nerd traffic through the café so references and jokes weren’t at all unheard of. Really, this one wasn’t even that bad. Comparatively.
“Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe for Arsène Lupin,” you called, turning around.
“That’s mine,” the waiting customer responded. Shockingly, it was not the top-hat wearing gentleman thief who stood at the counter waiting for his drink. Neither was it the dweeb you expected. Your Arsène Lupin —that is, the man standing on the other side of the glistening lacquered wood countertop— certainly wasn’t normal, but not in the way you had initially assumed.
The third thing you learned about him was that he was disarmingly beautiful. He stood casually; his arms crossed with one of his hands resting lightly on his chin as he watched with a half-smile that you would have sworn had a mischievous glint. Waiting to see if the little joke got a reaction, you figured.
Well, who were you to deny him that? Pushing down the instinctual nerves of talking to someone who belonged more in the technicolor light of your two-past-midnight Instagram escapades rather than the academia chic café, you smiled back. “Here you go, Monsieur Lupin.”
That made his lips twitch in amusement, which shouldn’t have been as gratifying as it was. “Thanks,” Arsène said warmly, wrapping his fingers around the cup. It wasn’t like you were intentionally trying to notice, but his fingers were long and thin, the nails neat and manicured. Pretty hands. Attractive hands. You wondered if they were soft, or as strong as they looked, or what they might feel like-
Nope. No. You needed God.
Or Tinder
“I hope you enjoy,” you said, trying to act like you hadn’t just committed some obscene thought crime. He was supposed to leave after that. People got their drinks and either sat down or left. But he didn’t, meeting your eyes with an even gaze. Their violet coloring was striking, drawn out by the purple eyeshadow smoked out over his pale eyelids. The makeup should have been off-putting, you were less than uninterested in the pierced hoard of e-boys that had saturated the modern alternative dating market, but it wasn’t. Not on him, at least.
“This is a cute place,” Arsène said. But he wasn’t looking around the cafe, he was staring directly at you. Which… you weren’t sure if you were to buy into your ego telling you he was flirting or your paranoia that he was laughing at you. “Is it usually this busy?”
Flirting was better, for your sanity’s sake if nothing else, so you smiled, doing a quick check to make sure you weren’t missing any customers. The guy working the register was looking at his phone under the counter.
“You know, you shouldn’t pick such an obvious pseudonym when you’re canvassing a business,” you said playfully. “Charm will only get you so far.”
That made him laugh, his appraising eyes sparkling with amusement as he stabbed a straw past the whipped cream of his drink. “In my experience, charm will get you anywhere.”
“For you, maybe,” you allowed, feeling a little more emboldened by that response. Lowering your voice slightly, you leaned in as if to conspire. “I guess the real question is what you’re stealing, Monsieur Lupin, hearts or jewels?”
“Jewels, usually,” Arsène told you without missing a beat. “I have no need to steal the hearts.” He shrugged one shoulder carelessly, casually. “I collect enough of them as it is.”
A corny, over-confident line like that should have made you laugh. Unfortunately, you kind of believed it. So you raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That goes against the spirit of being a Phantom Thief, doesn’t it?”
“Why, do you want me to steal your heart?” Arsène asked. He didn’t sound serious, exactly, but neither was the question joking enough to keep a flush from crawling up your cheeks.
“Baristas don’t have hearts,” you told him theatrically, rejecting your silly reaction. “It’s a void of caffeine, student debt, and the disappointment of our parents.”
Arsène was about to respond when you heard the door jingle open. You turned, looking over your shoulder at the customers who had stepped up to the register. “It looks like you’re needed,” he said, following your eye line.
“Yeah,” you said, feeling a strange stab of disappointment. Which was dumb. A little bit of banter with a handsome stranger was nice, but it shouldn’t have been anything else.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” Arsène said, smirking in a way that made you think he’d seen your dismayed reaction. “Thanks for the drink.”
He raised the cup like a toast goodbye, and you wished him a good day. It was completely ridiculous, but that quick and strange interaction played on loop in your head for the rest of the day. You went from embarrassed, to amused, to insecure, and back again dozens of times. By the next day, you weren’t sure what to think about it and you hated to think that you were watching for him, but-
Well, you were.
The fourth thing you learned about him was that he had a schedule, a specific time slot that seemed to be allocated to getting an overly sugary drink at your little cafe.
“Noa Fruit and Caramel Macchiato for Mr Pink,” you called, already expecting to see his smile based on the name alone. Not that the preparation did a whole lot in lessening the effects. Today Arsène, or Mr Pink, wore a dark striped button up tucked into black pants. The top buttons were undone, showing off the elegant column of his neck and the framing lines of his collarbones. His skin was so pale, like it had never seen the sun, the color perfectly even and milky.
“That’s mine,” he said. Redundantly. Of course it was his.
To think that you’d done your makeup with more care than usual today was embarrassing, but you were glad for it as you passed the drink to him. “Reservoir Dogs, right?” you asked, forcing yourself to not be flustered.
“Very good,” he said in a voice that was borderline condescending.
“You thought I wouldn’t know? I serve coffee in downtown, knowing Tarantino is practically a job requirement,” you said. Arsène laughed warmly, a sound that was somewhere between amusement and mocking, a sound that invited a mess of fluttery nerves to dance around in your stomach which you covered with a smile. “Mr Pink, though… he’s a long way off from being a gentleman thief.”
“Let’s just say that I’ve fallen from grace,” Arsène said, his smile an odd combination of mirth and mystery. “Lupin is... more of an ideal. Reality is hardly ever so romantic.”
“Cheers to that,” you said wryly.
“Although if I had to emulate one of them, I’d far prefer it to be the gentleman,” he said, dropping a few dollars in your tip jar. Cheeky. “Thanks for the treat.”
“Oh… Yeah,” you said, not even thinking to point out that it was your job. Unless he wasn’t talking about the coffee, which was even more baffling. “Have a nice day.”
After that came a lineup of sugary drink orders under the names of famous thieves. Some references you knew immediately, others you had to google later. And always, always, he just about made your heart stop with that smile.
It was… Maybe a week later? Your Arsène had become something like an expectation. Which was ridiculous. And stupid. But it was true, and he hadn’t been in the day before which affected you far more than you dared admit. Seeing the familiar purple head in the lineup of waiting customers was more relieving than it should have been.
A Vanilla Wyvern Wing Latte for Danny Ocean, this time. Unfortunately, there was a swath of customer’s orders that needed filling so you couldn’t give it to him personally, sliding it across the counter before rushing back to the blender. That kind of disappointed you, especially since you hadn’t seen him the day before, until you realized that he had taken a seat along the bar, writing something in a notebook and sipping on the creamy white latte.
Waiting for you? Pushing down the spark of excitement you felt about that, you finished up the orders. After that, you took a breath, grabbing a rag to at least seem productive as you inched towards him.
“You’re awfully far from Vegas, Mr Ocean,” you said. Although you called him that, you still thought of him as Arsène Lupin. Your Arsène.
He looked up from his notebook, the end of his pen pushed against his lip in a distracting way. They were so pink. And shapely, his top lip curved by a perfectly symmetrical cupids bow that no amount of lip kits could falsify. And… And you were staring. Again. He obviously noticed, what with the way he grinned when you forced your eyes up to his, but he gracefully didn’t point it out.
“Casinos are nothing more than a party trick,” he told you lightly, flipping his pen through his fingers before letting it drop to the paper. “I’ve got my eye on something far more valuable.” His eyes were burning into yours as he spoke.
That was the fifth thing you learned about him. Arsène could make anything sound like a double entendre. You thought of yourself as being somewhat difficult to ruffle, but even the most innocuous of comments from him could make your cheeks warm. It was the tone of his smooth, lovely voice. Always speaking under his breath, or low enough that you found yourself leaning in.
“Jewels, right?” you asked, playing it cool because you refused to fall prey to what you knew was a purposeful attempt to throw you off balance. “I heard there was an exhibit coming to town.”
“I’m not really interested in that sort of thing,” Arsène said with a little wave of his elegant hand. “You know the reprehensible means they use to get them, don’t you? So beautiful... but stained with blood. Not too dissimilar from myself, I suppose.”
That momentarily tripped you up. He sounded so genuine, even with the little quip of a joke. Most people couldn’t pull off saying something so nakedly edgy. Maybe it only worked because he was pretty, and you were a fool. So you just smiled. “You really ought to work on this whole subterfuge thing.”
Arsène’s eyes met yours. So intense. “And how would you recommend I do that?”
“Misdirection,” you told him, refocusing on wiping up the counter to avoid his gaze. “The names are bad enough. You’ve gotta at least pretend to be an upstanding member of society, right?”
“Do you think I’m not?” he asked lightly, his head falling to the side, hand braced against his cheek casually. “And here I thought I was perfectly amicable.”
“Oh,” you said. Did he sound offended? You quickly backtracked. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t think you are, it’s just that what you said-”
“I’m kidding,” Arsène said, the slightly concerned expression slipping from his face like an easily discarded mask.
You winced, internally kicking yourself. “Ah, sorry.”
“Don’t worry. That was cute,” Arsène said with that oddly infuriating unreadable grin and shutting his notebook to stand up.
“You’re leaving?” you asked, almost confused that he’d wait only to cut the conversation short.
“Haven’t you realized? I’m a wanted man. As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got things to do,” he said. “Speaking of that, I hope you didn’t miss me too much yesterday. This project is more difficult than I anticipated.”
“That’s fine, it’s not like I expect you to come by,” you said. You lied.
“No?” Arsène asked. He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious. “Fine, then. I’m not afraid to admit that I missed you. I’ll definitely see you tomorrow, though.”
“Can’t wait,” you said. And, despite the half-sarcastic affect you tried to put on, you meant it.
It only settled after he’d already left what he really had said. Missed you. Not for the first time, you toyed with the idea of giving him your number. Then again, maybe you were misreading the situation. After all, you didn’t even know his name.
Still, true to his word, he came around the same time the next day.
This time, it was a Cinnamon Dust Frappe for Garrett. Arsène, or Garrett, was wearing a sweater today in a nod to the rainy weather. Just like everything else he wore, it was entirely in service of his allure, a dark knit with leather elbow patches. White clips kept a section of his hair out of his face, which was curling at the ends. From the humidity? Or perhaps he usually straightened it?
“It took me a minute,” you admitted as you handed him his drink, “Garrett. That’s Thief, right? I have to be honest; you don’t really strike me as the gamer type.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he responded. After a moment, he added, “I haven’t got much time for games these days, but I have some fond memories from when I was a kid.”
“Probably why you’re a criminal,” you said.
If you weren’t mistaken, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second in something like surprise before that was composed into something else, his laughter driving it away. “You might be on to something with that. Video games do make kids violent, after all.”
“So, tomorrow, will it be Ezio? Or Corvo… He’s got a bit of thievery under his belt.”
Arsène scoffed. “I’d never do the same trick twice.”
That made you smile. “I look forward to it.”
After he left, you realized that you’d learned the sixth thing about him. It was such a small and mundane detail, but there was something charming and oddly intimate to imagine Arsène as a kid playing video games.
The next day, you were working register while helping to train the newbie in making drinks. It was cold. Slushy snow half-heartedly sprinkled down outside, and the heater was desperately trying, and failing, to keep the cafe warm. The repairman wouldn’t come until the following morning. All in all, your mood was rather poor.
Until the door opened and a familiar face stepped up to the counter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up here,” Arsène said.
“Desperate times,” you said with a shrug. He smiled at that, looking up at the menu contemplatively.
“I’ll have…” he said, “a Mockingbird Mocha Hot Chocolate. Medium.”
“And who might you be today?” you asked professionally, the Sharpie point poised over the side of the cardboard hot drinks cup.
“Prometheus,” he said without hesitation.
You blinked, caught off guard for a second as you tried to figure out the reference. That was… clever. The original thief. You couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement as you scribbled that on the side of the cup. The newbie already knew how to make the drink, leaving you with nothing to do. The cafe was quiet today, a rarity. It was the poor weather. People dropped in to get hot drinks, but you didn’t blame them for not sticking around. Arsène was dressed for the cold, wearing a white cape coat that was either incredibly trendy or strangely fringe. Of course, it worked perfectly on him. He looked ready to hop into a new age fashion catalog for outerwear.
“From gentleman thief to a gangster to god… Moving up in the world, are we?” you asked to fill the silence.
“On the contrary,” Arsène told you “There’s no power in being a god nobody believes in.”
“I’d definitely believe in you if you could warm it up in here,” you told him. “I’ve been freezing all day.”
“I’m sure I could think of a few ways to warm you up,” Arsène said, smirking, his eyes dancing with mischievous amusement. “After all, I’m the one who stole the first flame.”
A shaky exhale left your mouth, becoming something like an awkward laugh because he definitely had you going for a second and you knew it was on purpose but still. “That’s what you meant. Right.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I was talking about?”
“Here you go,” the newbie said with absolutely perfect timing, handing Arsène his drink. At least your blush was keeping you warm.
“Thank you,” Arsène said, meeting her eyes. You were pretty sure you saw her swoon, which made sense. That was the most practical response to him, after all. He looked back to you. “Try to keep warm, I’d hate for you to be calling in sick.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said. He grinned, wishing the both of you a good day. And you did warm up. By thinking of all the ways he could keep you warm. At this point, even God Himself probably couldn’t do much about your sinful thoughts.
The next day was another cold one, meaning that it was slow. Because of that, your boss had decided that only one person was needed, and you didn’t mind if that was you. Paid hours were always welcome. More than that, and you hated yourself for it, you hoped to see your Arsène. You’d been scrolling on your phone under the register when the door opened. Winter rushed in like it had been chomping at the bit for the chance, called forth with the jingling of bells. Arsène had arrived right on time, wearing that white cloak coat and tall white heeled boots. Snowflakes shined in his hair, quick to melt in the warmth of the repaired heater. By now, you should have been immune. But you weren’t.
“Alone today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Eerie, isn’t it?” you replied, gesturing to the empty cafe. “Not that I mind, now that the heater is fixed… What will you be having today?”
“A medium Caramel Leclair Latte,” he said.
“And your name…?”
“Yuri,” he said, which you scribbled onto the cardboard.
“All right… Just gimme a second,” you said. The drink was oddly tame for him, and a lot easier to make. You were pretty sure you could whip up a latte in your sleep. He waited without saying anything, but you could feel him watching. The music was too quiet to be a distraction and you were incredibly aware that it was just the two of you which was stupid because the counter practically put you in a different realm of reality, but-
You forced your thoughts to focus on something else, considering the name he’d given you. It was oddly unassuming, at least by the standards of other names he’d given you. You couldn’t recognize it as anything in particular, either. It was Russian. Or Japanese. It being the name of a Russian thief probably made the most sense contextually, but you were drawing a blank as to the specific reference.
“I can’t figure it out,” you admitted when you finished the drink and set it on the counter between you, “who are you impersonating today?”
Arsène blinked, a second of confusion passing before his lips quirked up just a bit. “Myself, actually. I figured it was time to give you my name. You can call me Yuri. Yuri Leclerc, to be precise.”
That was the seventh thing you learned about him. Your stomach clenched. Out of nerves or excitement or happiness, you couldn’t tell. You smiled, feeling something giddy fuzz in your head. “Well... It... It’s good to meet you, Yuri Leclerc.” Yes, you liked that name. It was better than all the others, even better than Arsène.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Yuri replied smoothly.
“So… Is there a reason for this momentous revelation?” you asked.
Some of the mirth drained from his eyes as he slid two of the little coffee straws into the lid. “I’m leaving town.”
The disappointment that struck you was beyond silly, it wasn’t like you had any claim to him. You’d only just learned his name for God’s sake. “Did the police finally catch up with you?” you asked with a smile, trying to be playful.
“Not yet,” Yuri said. “I prefer to leave before they catch wise.”
“I can never tell if you’re joking or not,” you told him, shaking your head. Sure, he was smiling, but, well, he smiled a lot. It was always unreadable. Amusement at something. Life itself, maybe.
“For your own sake,” Yuri said, his eyes fixing on yours, “you should always assume I am.”
Because that really cleared it up. You decided not to worry about it too much. “But you are leaving, that’s not pretend?”
“Yeah.”
Your heart sank all over again. Stupid, stupid. At least you finally knew his name.
That made for seven things you knew about him. That was enough, wasn’t it? Lucky sevens and all that? Without thinking too hard about it, you grabbed one of the embossed café cards and a pen, scribbling your name and phone number on the back. “If you’re ever back in town or whatever, this is me,” you told him, handing it over. “Or I dunno, I get vacation time. Maybe it’d be fun to take a trip to Almyra or Albinea or wherever gentleman thieves go until the heat dies down.”
Yuri looked at the card for a long moment before tucking it into his wallet, smiling. You felt like you could read this smile, it was warm and friendly. More real than his others, the emotion catching in his eyes, too. “I wonder, do you mean that?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I might.”
“Then I do,” you said with a shrug, like it was easy as that and unsure exactly how much of what you said was strictly playful. It didn’t really matter because it made Yuri smile all over again and the look was fond enough to make your heart seize.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Until then, do you by any chance watch the news?”
“The news?” you asked, confused by the shift in topic. “Not if I can help it.”
“Well, you should, at least for a few days.”
“Am I gonna turn it on and see your mugshot slapped all over some headline about a bank robbery or something?” you asked, mostly joking. Mostly.
“What would have ever given you the impression that I’d do something like that?” he asked, feigning a tone of offense.
“Steal something?” you asked.
“Get caught,” he corrected.
You laughed, thinking of something clever to respond with. Unfortunately, the door opened to admit a trio of bundled up students, killing the moment before you spoke.
“That’s my cue,” Yuri said, picking up his coffee. “Don’t miss me too much until we meet again, yeah?”
“Only as long as you promise not to forget me,” you told him.
“It’s a deal, then.”
“Goodbye, Yuri.”
“Goodbye,” he echoed, his eyes meeting yours and voice gentle. Intimate, almost. Then he was gone, a flash of violet and white disappearing into the winter cold.
It was silly, but you kept an eye on the news like he told you, curious to know if anything would come of it or if you’d just fallen for a cute guy’s ruse. But, no, something did happen. A huge theft. The jewel exhibit that had been about to roll out downtown had been robbed. Such a feat was meant to be impossible, there was seemingly no way it could have been done. But it had and there were no suspects, no public leads. And, not surprisingly, no mugshots.
#fire emblem three houses#fe3h#yuri leclerc#yuris leclair#fe yuri#yuri leclerc x reader#yuris leclair x reader#fe yuri x reader#YOU'VE BEEN HIT BY#YOU'VE BEEN STRUCK BY#ive had this idea in my head for so long#admittedly i'm not sure it turned out the way i wanted but i can't tell why#iS thIs a pERsoNa rEFeRenCe? yes
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i want to hear 👀👀👀 it upsets me a ton when people treat nova like he’s evil hhhhghgh
I HAVE BEEN ENABLED.
OK SO. First of all, we don’t have any kind of indication of Nova’s moral leaning… in regular Super Star. HOWEVER, Super Star Ultra does give us an idea if you pay attention to Nova after Meta Knight makes his wish. Nova makes a very surprised expression, and one that I also wouldn’t say is a stretch to interpret as simultaneously worried. The latter point in particular is because of how you can see the white of his eyes, which generally represents a fear or concern sort of surprise vs just something unexpected. I mean look at him, if this doesn’t look like “are you sure? like really are you absolutely sure that’s what you want???” then I don’t know what does.
This is contrary to what an evil being would most likely do; obviously if you’re an asshole you’d want to just sit back and watch this evidently entitled blue bitch get his ass handed to him on his silver platter of a mask. After all, assuming Nova is evil also assumes he acts of his own accord in some way, and considering his level of power, it’s not like he’d have to be worried about his own safety in that situation we’re that the case. Basically, he had literally no reason to react like that if he didn’t care about someone’s safety besides his own.
Now, my second point is a bit more vague due to not being supported by dialogue or visuals but instead just understanding/connecting dots. Nova is, obviously, a clockwork star, and it can be assumed all/most clockwork stars function similarly. The only other one we see in the games is Star Dream… aka the Access Ark, considering they’re separate, but Star Dream is the sentient part, hence me referring to them in this case. Star Dream doesn’t seem capable of acting on their own originally; not until they take Haltmann’s soul and begin acting on their own perception of what would grant his wish to give his company prosperity. Even then, though, they’re still seemingly “locked in” to trying to complete that wish, even though they’ve not only become sentient, but can recognize that it puts them directly at risk.
Now, we’ve seen that exact same thing play out with Nova, in that he was still trying to grant Marx’s wish even though Kirby was killing him from the inside. Once again, to say Nova is evil implies he is in control of his own actions; if that were the case and he was just threatening Popstar because he’s a jerk and intentionally interpreted the wish that way, why not stop and interpret it a different way? After all the entire basis of this kind of morality requires him putting his own mean-spirited spin on the wish being made, so it’s not like he wouldn’t already have been just finding a way to bend it. Obviously an all-powerful asshole would not be able to continue being like that if they can’t also act in self-preservation when things go wrong.
That leads into my third point; based on what we’ve seen of Nova, he is at the very least not just self-centered(as he showed concern), and he evidently isn’t acting based on his own decisions, but rather his programming or equivalent. The latter point makes it difficult to realistically make him out to be evil, seeing as we haven’t seen him do anything evil that was his own choice. That’d be like saying a gun is evil because it was used to shoot someone. Both of those points do lend themselves to the neutral spectrum very easily; he does what he’s told, and doesn’t question it. If you want to be boring this is where you can easily ignore his obvious reaction and go “he’s not sentient”, and if you do that you get the bonus of knowing you have greatly disappointed at least one person. Also tbh the same goes for the evil interpretation imo; there’s literally so many characters like that already, ‘jackass genies’ is literally a trope. Why not do something new and interesting?
On that note, the first point also allows the argument that he could be on the good spectrum(not chaotic tho) if you squint really hard and overthink his one moment of expressed emotion. It’s a pretty tragic concept that I am admittedly extremely biased towards for reasons, but what if Nova is good, yet can’t refuse to grant bad wishes even if he wants to? Sure, he can be used for good as well, but someone like him would most certainly meet many more selfish people in his time(such as a certain jester) than good folks. It’s a lot easier to wish for money or power than for peace or comfort. It’d be like being a pacifist sword, to be honest; sure, maybe one guy would use you to make watermelon slices for kids or something, but most people would use you to do harm, and you have no control over that.
I’m sure that would get exhausting… Might explain his eternally tired look. Just waiting for the next summoning and hoping whoever gathers the stars isn’t doing so for nefarious reasons, but having no say either way. Finally some guy shows up and seems the noble sort, and then he makes the most dangerous wish imaginable. Despite how he’s become so accustomed to disappointment that he doesn’t even react anymore, because yeah yeah ok planet dominator #5018 it would be my luck that I meet someone else like you this summoning, he doesn’t hide his shock. Like damn this guy might straight up have his face impaled by a lance in the next two minutes, he knows that right? But no matter what happens, Nova can’t do anything about it.
Anyways because I want to try and reel this in somewhat, my last tiny point is that Nova is never fought directly. Star Dream Soul OS(the Access Ark part) has a whole external battle, an internal one with the pillars, and then the heart also attacks you directly. Nova? Nothing. He’s got some separate internal defenses that he probably doesn’t control (patas, volms, and dacoogas), but other than that you literally just break all of this old man’s ribs and subsequently induce a heart attack and paralysis. Nova never attacks or directly fights back, and Kirby never fights him face-to-face. I personally interpret this as Nova using what little control he does have to make himself easier to stop, even at the cost of his own life, because he never wanted to do something evil in the first place.
Actually I just thought of one other potential point. It’s at least sorta implied Nova was the one used to seal Galacta Knight. If that’s the case, why would he have been trusted to do so if he twisted wishes in purposely bad ways? Like that’s just an obviously terrible idea. Sure let’s leave someone who enjoys the suffering of others to keep this dangerous guy locked up, I’m sure nothing bad could come of that. Famous last words right there.
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hi! sorry in advance for this long ask 😥 i read metamorphosis in your old blog and reread it here again. i remember the asks you got in your old blog with all of the possible theories about WHO the snitch could possibly be: from yn’s friends to suna’s and the wildest one, suna himself. so i’d like to share my theory up to ch20.
THE SNAKE:
* is someone who has been telling yn’s mom about her whereabouts for a while (even before she officially met suna and his friends)
* the only people who yn is close to AND trust are 3: kuroo, akaashi and sora
* the task at the begging was easy: yn didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, was always cautious around people. so it was easy money without getting yn in trouble(?)
* something interesting: the meeting between them and yn’s mom. they had to choose a cafe that was not only suitable for mrs LN standards BUT also a place away from prying eyes (i see it as if someone saw them it would be hard to explain why they were together 👀)
so the snitch CANNOT be any of suna’s friends bc not only they never met yn in person before she went to suna’s tattoo shop but there was no way they could know yn’s whereabouts and mrs LN didn’t know about their existence till after the family brunch at the fancy restaurant (yn told her parents she didn’t know them)
the snitch could be one (you said it was only one) between kuroo akaashi and sora
1. KUROO - probably yn longtime friend among the three. they come form the same family background: rich kids plus their parents are friends. contrary to yn’s parents, kuroo’s seem to be less strict and support his (side/temporary) career as a youtuber but it doesn’t mean they don’t have expectations on their son. he’s studying law school and one if not both of his parents are lawyers (him saying he would use his parents old books bc he didn’t have some at the begging of the smau) - he has to follow his parents steps either bc he wants to or has been forced/induced on wanting to be a lawyer.
even tho he said multiple times he was broke, we should think on HIS meaning of being broke. he has a certain life stile so when he says he needs money it doesn’t mean he cannot afford to pay for rent (does he even have to pay? does he own the place he lives in? and even if he was broke and needed money for food he could easily go to his family’s home.
is he the snake? for me, no he isn’t (and it was confirmed in ch21)
* as he said - (ch21) excluding the easy money - there was nothing for him to risk his friendship with yn. even if yn’s mom doesn’t stand him it didn’t stop her from being friends with his parents
* he’s the one who could really understand yn’s situation with her parents. what it means coming from a wealthy family and your parents put a certain pressure on you and your future wether intentionally (the LNs) or not (the Kuroos)
2. AKAASHI - the perfect guy according to yn’s mom.
* he doesn’t come from a wealthy family, his tuition is paid by yn’s parents (no one knows this info) so he really does need extra money bc he has to cover for his other expenses and support his own family
* he’s close to yn but not enough to know her feelings/doubts (sora)
* the way mrs LN talk/message the snake like she genuinely cares about them
* when yn ditched the dinner with the sakusa’s and her parents, yn’s mom with sakusa went to her apartment (they found sora with atsumu). yn was with suna and he decided to drive her back home, that’s when yn’s mom and sakusa met suna and yn panicked bc of sakusa’s presence. mrs LN asked info about suna to the snake and they didn’t know who she was talking about (sora was there and knew suna was with yn). only kuroo and akaashi weren’t there/didn’t know suna met mrs LN
* akaashi went back home for a month and during that period he missed certain things about yn x suna relationship also he didn’t check that often the gc.
* the brunch (ch20) - akaashi wasn’t there: we don’t know yet how yns mom and sakusa knew where to find yn. did the snake told any of them the address OR did yn ratted herself out by posting the place on her ig (it is public if im not mistaken)? the snake could easily forward the picture to any of them if her profile was private and they didn’t know the address (akaashi)
3. SORA - yn’s only female friend
* like akaashi she doesn’t come from a wealthy family (as far as we know) and she doesn’t go to college but works.
* yn’s mom dislikes her (at least on the surface)
* she doesn’t understand why yn is/was so obedient to her parents, it’s hard to understand from an outside pov (kuroo in a certain way can even if his parents aren’t that controlling)
* the cafe meeting with mrs LN. the way the place should be secluded 👀
* as i said before telling yn’s mom about yn’s life was easy money and there was nothing «interesting» in her life to be hidden from her parents
the snake (for me) is one between sora and akaashi.
AFTER CH21 im thinking more on akaashi bc of the convo between the snake and sakusa where sakusa tells the snake that what they are doing all of this for yn’s sake. akaashi doesn’t know how yn truly feels about suna nor her doubts/worries before they became official (only sora knows) BUT if the snake ends up being sora…(i guess that would be the biggest betrayal yn could get) she deserves an oscars as best actress in a bc not only she played matchmaker with yn x suna but she’s basically yn’s (only) confidant
last but not least let’s talk about my man (sorry yn) suna. not to be a suna apologist (im the first to call his ass out when he’s bitch) but could you really blame him for not wanting to listen to yn? he opened up about his past with her and in one of the first chapters - don’t remember if it was the gc with the twins or he told to yn - was mentioned how his last relationship or the most important one he ended up being emotionally hurt by his partner and he decided to stay away from relationship for a while. so imagine what/how he felt when sakusa told him he was yn’s boyfriend when she not only told him sakusa was just a family friends but they are (suna x yn) supposed to be in a relationship.
yn postponing to tell suna the truth about sakusa (them being together in a arranged relationship bc of their parents business) ended up hurting him. there was never a right moment (the sooner the better) but she should have explained
or at least vaguely mention it to him either when she told him about her parents (when they opened up about each other) or after the apartment incident BUT definitely before they started dating bc she basically lied to suna.
i think that’s all 😵💫
The fucking thought & detail that went into this ask!!!! I love it!!!!
Okay, so let me try to answer this properly without skipping over anything, but also without giving away any key parts of the au lol.
So, I did mention this fact on my old blog, but I didn't mention it here, so the snake has been betraying Y/N way before she was introduced to Suna, & his friends. So that fact alone eliminates Atsumu & Osamu from being the snake. You are also correct about the snake having it easy at first. Because there wasn't anything to report seeing how she never did anything until Suna came into the picture. That's when the snake started gathering information. But even at first they were hesitant to say anything, hence why Y/N's mom had to reassure the snake that it was okay, & that all of this was only in Y/N's favor.
We know now that Kuroo is not the snake, because in chapter 21 Sakusa had a conversation with the real snake, & pinning Kuroo out to be the backstabber was all part of his plan to keep the real snake safe. So that means, Sora, & Akaashi are the only ones left.
Sora & Akaashi do not come from wealthy families. Sora makes a very comfortable living tho with her job as a bartender. Akaashi is being put through school by the financial support of Y/N's parents ( this was also a fact I mentioned in the introduction chapter back on my old blog. ) But Y/N does not know about her parents supporting Akaashi, the only one that knows that information is Bokuto.
With Akaashi being financially supported it would make sense for him to be the snake right? Because in return he's doing something for them. But Sora could also very well be the snake. Yes she hates how Y/N parents are treating her, & she wants Y/N to be happy. But there could be a chance that she's the snake because she just simply wants to be on Y/N's parents good side. & at the same time try to convince her parents that Suna is the best thing for her. Because the snake does tell Y/N's mom about how they think Y/N is happier when she's with Suna, & they try to get her mom to see that. Though her mom is a bit stubborn, but maybe that's also what the snake is trying to do. Hoping that the mom will back out of this plan Y/N's family has for her, & let her do what she wants.
You know get on their good side & then win their trust in order to save their friend. So that could be a possibility why the snake is Sora.
Sooo who is the real snake??? 👀👀
& lastly, I agree! Y/N definitely should've told Suna sooner. But in her defense, she was scared that he'd walk away after hearing how much of a complicated mess all of that is. Sure she told him about her parents & stuff like that, but in Y/N's mind that's nothing compared to being in an arranged engagement against your will. She was scared that Suna will leave before she figures out a way to get out of going public with the fake engagement. She was hoping she would figure out a plan that would get her out of it before Suna found out. But it all back fired :(
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LOV with reader who cries easily? Like, not when it comes to murder, but she’ll be reading a book or watching a movie and burst into tears when a character is sad. Or she’ll see someone else sad and join them?
Ooooo sure thing, dearie! :> also it’s okay I love that you’re spamming me! ^^
~🐼
LoV with reader who cries easily!
Tomura:
This poor boy won’t know what to do!
Obviously he’s seen people cry before, but he’s not the type to really know what to do when someone cries. Same, shiggy So he won’t really do anything to comfort you.
Maybe he’ll just give you the side-eye the first time he’s around when it happens, wondering “what the hell, y/n?” because you’re obviously not in danger or anything. And when he realizes what you’re crying about, he’s really confused. How could something that’s not real like a movie make you cry?
He’s not gonna coddle you, but he’s not against letting you cry into his shirt or hold onto him. He might not reciprocate, he might. Depends on what kind of day he’s had and whether or not he’s feeling cuddly.
He thinks it’s cute that you’re so empathetic, maybe even admires it, and so he’ll secretly enjoy seeing it. Not that he likes seeing you sad or upset! It’s nice for him to have someone around who knows a thing or two about empathy or sympathy. It makes him feel a little normal.
Naturally, he’s going to be a little wary. Oftentimes he’s going to feel like it’s pity rather than empathy or sympathy if it’s directed at him. He wants someone to understand and love him, not pity and feel sorry for him! Even if that’s not the case, he’ll still often read it that way.
Most importantly, since you’re part of the League, he can’t let it get the better of you, so he’ll be really picky what kinds of missions he sends you on.
Obviously he’s not going to join you in your waterwork antics, but he’s not going to stop you either. So long as you’re quiet. He can’t have you wailing in the middle of something important...
Mr. Compress:
It’s going to catch him off guard, but not in the same way as Tomura.
As someone who’s keen in the entertainment department, he’s going to internally wonder if it’s an act at first. Perhaps you cry so that the League will underestimate you and not be hostile towards you. Perhaps you cry so they think you’re a sobbing fool but are actually stronger than all of them. He doesn’t know.
But when he realizes that’s how you are, it’s surprising for him to see raw emotion (or emotion regarded as weak or vulnerable) like that amongst someone in the League. It doesn’t bother him at all, and he’ll at least try to cheer you up.
100% will pull a water bottle out of nowhere to give you because “honey, you’re going to dehydrate yourself at this rate!” And he can’t let that happen.
This man won’t hesitate to pull out tricks and jokes that’ll get you crying from laughter instead of sadness.
If that fails, he’ll probably rub your back and let you ride through it, nodding and humming in acknowledgement if you tell him about what made you cry.
Mr. will make sure you’re okay before leaving or splitting off from you if you’re on a mission, but if time is of the essence, he won’t try very long to cheer you up. You matter to him, but he’s still serious about being in the League.
He’ll think it’s sweet you have such a big heart, and unlike Tomura, he’ll outright tell you, maybe patting your head or taking his mask off to smile at you.
Twice:
You can be damn sure this man is going to cry with you. We all know he has a lot of heart, and no matter how badly his trauma starts up, he’s going to be spilling waterworks alongside you. That’s inherently who he is.
He’s very similar in respect to seeing someone else cry and crying at them, so most of his crying with you is his crying for you, in a way. If he sees you cry, he’ll instantly cry!
Most of the time Twice is going to be too busy shedding tears with you to really comfort you, although he’ll offer some words of encouragement and try to.
If it’s not affecting him as much as it is affecting you, he’ll run for water to give you and possibly a little trinket that’ll lift your mood. Maybe he’ll grab a sugary treat, if it’s included in your normal diet and appreciated by your palate, but he’ll find something else that’s not sugary if you’re diabetic or whatnot.
Suuuper relieved there’s another crier in the League. If something gets him going, he’ll show it to you and you can cry together! I can also see Twice as a happy crier, so he’ll show you whatever made him happy whether or not you happy cry, too. But it’ll make him really happy if you enjoy it with him!
He actually doesn’t like seeing you sad. It’s kind of painful for him to watch, so he looks forward to happy crying with you the most.
If you’re still crying by the time he’s moved on, he’ll sit with you and help you ride out your tears, but I think it’ll be hard for him to think of what to say, so he’ll mostly make cheesy or bad jokes to try.
If you cry more often than usual in a day, he’ll take the reigns and steer you away from anything potentially tear-inducing because he’ll get worried about you. Is there something in particular that’s made you more sensitive? Are you overloaded and stressed from being in the League? Are you okay? He’ll be almost frantic if you cry too much.
Himiko:
Himiko will find it adorable and enjoy seeing you cry way too much. If she feels like it, she’ll show you something to make you cry!
She relishes in your crying face, grinning like a cheshire cat with flushed cheeks as her eyes dance across the tear stains on your cheeks and the reddening sclera of your eyes.
She might mock-cry with you - not to mock you but so that you don’t feel alone in your salty antics. You’re important to her and she’s going so show it in ways like that, to show you she’s right there with you. Even if it’s odd for her to do so.
This girl wouldn’t dare make fun of you for being a “softie” or so open to vulnerability and hell hath no fury like Himiko if someone else does. She won’t hesitate to cut a bitch for making fun of you!
Even if you’re in public and someone glares at you or looks at you funnily, it’ll rile her up and she’ll send a terrifying glare their way.
Her use of pet names will increase tenfold while you’re crying, almost like a loving partner trying to console you - but she’s not. She loves seeing you like that, so she wants to coddle you.
She’ll likely latch onto in any way possible when you start up and cling onto you.
Himiko won’t encourage hydration, but if you ask for it almost every time you cry, she’ll put two and two together and start carrying water with her to give you. Hey, that blood-sucking contraption is good for something!
Dabi:
He’s not going to be so nice. He can be a teasing bastard - rather, he is one.
He won’t coddle you and he’ll tease the hell out of you. “Aw, y/n. What could possibly have you cryin’ now? I thought you quit for the fifth time just a few minutes ago!” Sometimes he’ll come off as downright mean, but he doesn’t mean it that way.
He does think it’s cute, though. To see someone become so vulnerable so easily reminds him how much you stand out from the League. It seems innocent to him.
Don’t expect him to get cuddly while you cry like Tomura or Himiko, he won’t have any of it. He’ll tolerate your crying, obviously, because he cares about you. And unless you’re extremely upset and alone with him, he won’t try to comfort you and build a damn for those waterworks of yours.
He certainly won’t join you, either. He literally can’t even if he wanted to, and it’s just not easy to make him cry.
If your eyes get dry and irritated from crying, you can bet he’ll pass eye drops to you. His tear ducts are burnt, he’s going to have some sort of drops or eye lubricant on him pretty much at all times.
He wouldn’t offer water; instead, I think he’d hand you liquor to get you to calm down and relax if it was on-hand. Does drowning your sorrows in alcohol solve the problem? No. Is it unhealthy? Yes. Does Dabi know all this? Yes!
In all, he’s not gonna downright complain about it, but he’s not really going to do much to stop it. Unless someone made you cry. In which case, he’ll cremate them on the spot.
Spinner:
Already he’s going to want to protect you to prove himself, but if you cry that easily he’ll become really protective!
Ain’t nobody gonna make his s/o cry on purpose. Spinner may not have a destructive quirk like Tomura’s or Dabi’s, but he can hold his own in a fight, and he’s going to prove it if someone upsets you intentionally.
But if he sees you crying at a movie or book, he’ll think it’s precious and he’s 100% gonna flip a switch and be there to comfort you. But that doesn’t mean he’s good at it!
He’ll be flustered because he doesn’t entirely know what to do. He can offer sweet words and gentle pats and rubs, but what else? He’ll up and run for anything you ask for, no matter the time. Tissues? Got it. Water? Okay. A stuffed animal? Here- why didn’t you say so earlier?!
Spinner will probably coddle up to you first, instead of the other way around. He doesn’t want to see you sad and bummed out, so he gets the urge to hold you.
But if you manage to catch him off guard and latch on first, it’ll fluster him and he’ll be a stuttering mess.
It’s not easy for him to be sweet and caring in front of the League because he’s afraid they won’t take him seriously, so when you’re crying in front of them, he’ll try to usher you to the sidelines and calm you down quietly.
He’s happy that his s/o is so empathetic. It gives him a sense of normalcy within the League, and he’s not complaining.
#mha#mha headcanons#mha x reader#shigaraki x reader#mr compress x reader#twice x reader#toga x reader#dabi x reader#spinner x reader#lov x reader#shigaraki tomura#mr compress#twice#toga himiko#dabi#spinner#league of villains#comfort / fluff#h/c#edited because i forgot to bold their names and if bothered more than it should!
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Two Sides: Chapter 5
Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4)
Characters: Musical!Beetlejuice, Female!OC, Lydia Deetz, Barbara Maitland, Adam Maitland
Warnings: anxiety, awkward attempts at flirting, panic attacks, cursing, a little bit of angst if you squint
Word Count: 1,930
Author’s Note: Been on a writing kick so I figured I’d post Chapter 5! Not much to say about this chapter, just some good old fashioned character development a.k.a. Beej being a pissbaby and Cassandra being an anxiety factory. Please check out my Masterlist here and my About Me page. Enjoy!
Chapter 5
Both Cassandra and Beetlejuice called after the dark-haired girl, but she had already shut the door with a forceful yank. Causing mischief was something Lydia had perfected from spending a lot of time with Beetlejuice, and while she didn’t want to admit it, she was sort of glad her roommate had brought him back. Life without her undead companion was almost getting too normal for her liking.
She knew that this day was already turning out to be a lot to handle for Cassandra, but Lydia tried not to beat herself up about how everyone had been introduced. Nothing ever went according to plan in the Deetz/Maitland household, so it was just as well that the day had already erupted into total chaos. Still, Lydia hoped that her roommate would roll with the punches and make it through the weekend relativity unscathed.
After Lydia shut the door, Beetlejuice’s demeanor changed almost instantly. He leaned casually on the end of Cassandra’s wooden bed frame, his eyes scanning her, an impish glint in his eye. His green hair was now mixed with pale yellow and light pink colorations.
“So....does your hair always do that…?” Cassandra asked awkwardly, attempting to make some semblance of a conversation. The air in the room was still unbelievably tense, even after Lydia had properly introduced the two of them. A smug look flashed across the demon’s face.
“My hair’s sorta like a mood ring,” he said matter-of-factly, picking at the dead skin around his fingernails, “This shade of yellow means that I’m curious about ya. Pretty cool, huh?” He secretly wanted to impress her, and he thought the nonchalant act would do just the trick.
“And what does pink mean?” Cassandra asked, enthralled by the swirl of hues that now adorned his head.
“That I think you’re hot, babes,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He gave her another once over as Cassandra held back an uncomfortable laugh, taken aback at how forward he was.
“Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the girls you manhandle after they unwittingly unleash you into the mortal realm,” she said casually, doing her best to hide her discomfort with him. She did not take getting hit on well by living men, let alone men that had been dead for probably decades. Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows, wrongly suspecting that she was flirting back.
“What, are ya talking about that kiss?” he said innocently, his stocky frame inching closer to her, “Look, new girl, that was just a gesture of appreciation. You should be flattered.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, frustrated with the demon’s lack of self-awareness.
“Okay, first off, my name is Cassandra,” she said childishly, “Second, I’m not flattered by you fucking with me. The last hour of my life has been insane, and I really don’t need your help making it any crazier.” Beetlejuice felt the venom in her tone, but soldiered on until she cracked. Breathers like her always did, and he knew she was just putting on a front to seem tougher than she really was.
“Listen, babes, you gotta relax a little. Take a walk on the undead side,” he purred, “Why don’t I show ya—?” He stopped her pacing and grabbed her waist. Cassandra let out a small yelp of anger, pushing him away and plopping onto the bed. The comforter was now decidedly dirtier since the demon had laid on it, but she didn’t care. Hot tears of infuriation filled her eyes.
“Look, the last thing I want to do is get down and dirty with some dead guy that just appeared in my room and has been messing with me from the second I got here,” she said, in a quiet but sharp tone, “So please, for the love of all that is good and decent, could you, just, leave?” Instantly the pink and yellow swirls in his hair were mixed with a deep red and blue. Beetlejuice stared angrily at the floor, not used to being shot down so pointedly. This kind of rejection brought up emotions he wasn’t quite keen on revisiting, but he was too prideful to admit he had gone too far.
“Fine,” he muttered, not bothering to make eye contact with the already irked woman, “You’re not my type anyways, sweetheart. Guess I didn’t know Lydia had such a stuck up, goody-two-shoes breather for a roommate. See ya around, new girl.” With that he vanished from the room, a tiny *pop* emanating from the spot where he stood.
Cassandra let out another angry cry, overwhelmed with the day’s events. She understood where Lydia coming from, leaving the two of them together to get better acquainted. After all she was right: Cassandra was the one that stupidly summoned him. But it clearly didn’t occur to her that Beetlejuice would go back to his old self faster than lightning, making Cassandra incredibly uneasy in the process. A few moments later, a soft knock on the door broke her out of her emotional spiraling.
“Cassandra? It’s Barbara,” the blonde woman said softly, a tiny crack between the door and its frame forming, “Everything okay?” Cassandra quickly wiped away a small tear and cleared her throat.
“Uh, yeah, yeah everything is fine,” she said unconvincingly. Barbara took that as an invitation to open up the door fully and enter the guest room, Adam following quietly behind her. “I just, uh, met another dead person in this house. The guy who looks homeless and smells like a sewer.”
“Beetlejuice,” the couple deadpanned in tandem. Adam groaned in slight frustration, rubbing the back of his neck at the thought of the raucous demon back in his former home.
“Of course, of course he would be back here,” he said as Barbara rubbed his shoulders, attempting to relax him, “After we had just cleaned up from his last mess...did Lydia summon him?” Adam’s expression softened when he saw the guilt on Cassandra’s face. She had just met these people and had now accidentally freed an entity they clearly didn’t have much fondness for.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Cassandra let a few frustrated tears fall from her eyes, not able to even look up at the couple. Barbara sat down next to her on the bed, placing her hand on top of Cassandra’s. The living woman felt no sensation of being touched, but appreciated the gesture of comfort.
“It’s okay, honey,” Barbara said genuinely, her kind face illuminating the gloomy air in the room, “We aren’t upset with you, right Adam?” The woman nudged her husband quite forcefully, catching him slightly off-guard.
“No, no of course not,” Adam added, chuckling slightly, “It’s just, Beetlejuice can sometimes be...well, a handful.”
“Really?” Cassandra sniffed, drying her tears, “I hadn’t noticed.” The three of them cracked small smiles, slightly easing the disquieting air that hung in the room, “Is he always such a dick?” Barbara and Adam looked at each other, silently confirming the living woman’s question. Cassandra sighed. Not two hours into being in this house, and she had met three dead people and had already pissed off the most irritating of them all.
The Maitlands were at least acting civil towards her, even treating her with kindness. But there was something about Beetlejuice that made Cassandra’s temperature rise. The condescending smirk, the overzealous grabbiness, the complete unawareness of social cues...it all added up to a huge pain in the ass that she was going to have to deal with for the entire weekend.
‘You have to be nice,’ Cassandra thought, ‘For Lydia. He’s best friends with Lydia, and you need to be nice. Just for the weekend. And then you’ll never have to see that creep again.’ “Try and stick it out, just for a few days,” Barbara said sweetly, “He really isn’t that bad when you get to know him.” Adam smiled unconvincingly, doing nothing to quell Cassandra’s discomfort.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” she said, smiling as genuinely as she could muster, “I still have a little more settling in to do, but I’ll see you guys downstairs soon, okay?” The two ghosts nodded and disappeared in a flash, leaving the living woman alone once again. Cassandra closed her eyes yet again, finding it easier to process the events that had transpired since she had entered the house. She just had to accept that this was what Lydia’s world was like, even though she had no idea it existed.
She couldn’t blame Lydia for not telling her all these years, but she was still shocked to know that her best friend and roommate had successfully kept this from her for so long. A wave of emotions crashed down on her: hurt, anger, confusion, curiosity, excitement even. How was she supposed to make it through the rest of this trip without feeling like a mental patient? She felt a tightness in her chest, a telltale sign her anxiety had taken hold of her psyche.
Beetlejuice materialized in the room only seconds after the Maitlands vanished, watching her intently. Now he was intentionally making his presence unknown so he could further survey the damage without causing another scene. His hair was now a swirl of purple and red, creating a sea of maroon locks that adorned his head. He watched as Cassandra steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, attempting to gain her composure. She let a few stress-induced tears escape from her eyes but quickly brushed them away, as she shook her head and moved to unzip her duffel bag. Beetlejuice felt a twinge of guilt, a blue streak reappearing in his hair. He hadn’t met anyone new since he infiltrated the Maitlands’ home all those years ago, and the prospect of fresh meat to torment was too difficult to pass up. He feared he had gone too far, but those thoughts were replaced by annoyance and disdain.
‘Who does this breather think she is?’ he thought angrily, stewing in the corner of the room, still eyeing Cassandra as she methodically placed her clothes in an empty dresser, ‘Since when did Lydia get a new best friend? And how could that best friend possibly be a bigger mess than I am?!’
In all of his years as a bio-exorcist, Beetlejuice had never been turned down by a human so abruptly. Well, other than Lydia of course, but that was a different situation entirely. When it came to consenting adult breathers, Beetlejuice had them on their backs in no time. At their core, he knew that they loved the idea of breaking the rules, and getting pleasured by a demon was about the most sinful thing imaginable.
But this one? This trembling, crying, self-conscious mess that stood before him? She had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him, try as he might to be as friendly as he possibly could with her, though his definition of friendly was certainly more abrasive and forward than the average person’s, living or dead.
And the thought that this was the person Lydia was now spending all of her time with and not goofing off with him? Well, that only damaged Beetlejuice’s bruised ego even more. What made her so goddamn special?
Beetlejuice could feel himself growing more and more contemptuous towards Cassandra, but decided to at least attempt to be civil towards her, for Lydia’s sake. He was her best friend after all, and he wasn’t going to let this annoying breather change that over the course of one weekend.
Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun when Lyds wasn’t around...
~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog and feel free to drop an ask for any requests/feedback!
#Beetlejuice#Beetlejuice the musical#beetlejuice musical#alex brightman#lydia deetz#adam maitland#barbara maitland#beetlejuice fanfiction#beetlejuice x oc#beetlejuice x female!oc#fanfiction#fandom#musical#musicals#musical theatre#musical theatre fandom#musical theater fandom#tim burton#writing#fanfic#like#reblog#beej#betelgeuse
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Night is day and day is night In a world that's lost its mind! chapter eight END
This was...concerning, to say the least.
Nothing had been done the past couple of months, everyone was saying it was because of the cameras that had been put up were causing whoever did those horrible things to think twice, but Henry and Robert were not so sure getting rid of someone like this was that easy.
Someone was biding their time no doubt, being eight months pregnant did not lend itself to much coordination, and being so close to birth did not lend itself to much calm thought either, but both hoped whoever it was would just get bored and leave them all alone.
sigh
"Are you alright?" Robert asked, concerned at the other's frown and exhale, depression was not uncommon in pregnancy and his mate was already prone to it...
"Fine, it's just dark and rainy and it makes all this nonsense all the more gloomy for us all" Henry admitted, well he was no stranger to the rain, nor did he paticuarly hate it, but that did not mean he liked having it on top of the other things going on in their lives.
"Rachel is making everyone chili, that should help" Robert smiled, already eager for a bowl of the comfort dish and sure the omega would want something hot to fill his belly.
"Is it spicy?" Henry asked
"She did say it would be sort of hot" Robert admitted "You should not worry, it won't induce you"
"Perhaps, but I would much rather not get any heartburn from it," the omega said, knowing spiced foods were not a sure-fire way to go into labor, but they were a sure fire way to indigestion and that was something he would rather avoid, rolling about in his nest feeling like he wanted to vomit did not sound like a fun evening.
"Well, I can get something else..." Robert started only to be cut off by a kiss to the cheek.
"That's alright, I'm not even hungry right now, enjoy a meal with the others and I'm going to sleep a bit more, perhaps the storm will be over when I wake up" Henry smiled, knowing Robert had to be a little cooped up in the nest, he was in it all the time now ever since he was checked out of the hospital and the nest proved to be a good place for his still-healing body.
Robert nodded, sure his mate wanted some alone time to stretch out and relax, leaving the room, locking the door behind him so Henry could sleep with no disturbances, and headed downstairs. --- Mmm...something smells good...
Henry's eyes cracked open to find to his disappointment, the storm had not stopped, if anything it had gotten worse, but he did smell something nice, climbing out of the nest and opening the door the omega found a blueberry muffin, aw, Robert or Rachel must have left it there for him, wonder where his alpha was anyway? Perhaps he had some work to do or one of the lodgers dragged him off to show him something.
Picking up the treat, Henry headed back inside to sit at his desk so he could eat it properly, no need to get crumbs in his nest, that would not be fun to clean up later on, and the chemist was not in the mood to drag around the vacuum.
Taking a bite he could not help but note it was a bit weird tasting but guessed a little too much salt or something was added, the muffin was still good and it would be horrible to waste it after so much trouble.
He just hoped Robert got back soon...
---
"How on earth did you not know it would explode!?" Robert scolded as he bandaged Sinnett's hand after one of his machines backfired on him suddenly when he was showing off to the alpha what he wanted to display at the next science show.
"I thought I checked everyth-wait a minute...one of the dials has been taken off no wonder it shot off!" Sinnett pointed with his good hand to see that, yes indeed, one of the dials had been taken off and was laying on the floor.
"Who would have done-HENRY!" Robert jumped to his feet and darted from the room, bolting up the stairs two at a time, mister Sinnett somehow keeping up at his heels.
"Doctor Jekyll is upstairs, and he wouldn't have done this anywa-" Sinnett scoffed, thinking the alpha had suddenly gone daft to think his pregnant mate would ever intentionally sabo-
"I mean someone messed with your machine as a DISTRACTION!" Robert nearly screeched, heart pounding as he raced for his lover's office.
"WHAT!?" ---
Of all things to give him a stomach ache it had to be a muffin!
Pacing the room the omega was trying to ignore his hurting gut, now getting a little worried, it seemed like it was getting worse...perhaps it was just stress? Or bad bluebe-oh, that was problematic...his water broke.
He needed to go to the hospital NOW...where was his coat? He would need to calmly inform the lodgers...no need for them to panic...
'you're not due yet! Kid needs to bake another month!' Hyde seemed to complain, but Henry could hear that hint of fear in his voice, he was just as concerned as his split half, and catching a glimpse of him in the mirror, he could see his eyes did look a little softer.
"It will be alright, just calm down...I'll go find Robert or one of the lodgers and they can find him and we can go," Henry said to the mirror, fearing if he tried to mentally talk it would come out messed up and they were alone so it's not like he needed to.
Stepping towards the door a jolt of pain went down the omega's spine sending him to his knees.
This was not right...it hurt...it was too ...it was going too fast...but he didn't feel...this was not normal...the room was spinning
The door opened and he just saw a pair of blue socks coming towards him...
And everything went black --- Robert ran to Henry's side, quickly taking note of how scarily still he was and the fact his eyelids were fluttering oddly, seizure...waters broken...no visible head injury...
"Sinnett! Call an ambulance! Tell them we have an omega in labor who has entered a seizure by an unknown substance!" Robert ordered, the mate in him wanted to cry and attempt to get his love back in his right head as fast as possible, but the doctor knew seizures did not work that way, he did not know what caused it and labor and birth were out of his line of knowledge.
Forcing his instincts down he gently started to rub at the other man's back and held the omega's hand in the other "Henry? Can you hear me? I know you and Edward have to be really scared right now, but Sinnett went to get you help, you are going to be just fine and so will Edward and the baby"
A groan was his response, not comforting.
"Hang on..." Robert whispered as all he could really do at this point was wait...and pray... --- "Thirty-five-year-old omega, thirty-seven weeks pregnant, membranes ruptured and suffered a seizure from an unknown reason" the paramedic relayed as she helped wheel in said omega who was only partially conscious having woken up in the ambulance, only to scream in pain, too out of it and whatever drugs he was given most likely making the pain a lot worse to bother with any form of control.
Robert ran alongside the gurney, being more concerned with the fact Henry was back to being quiet, the screaming at least let the alpha know he was coherent enough to feel pain and react accordingly to the unpleasant feeling.
"Prepping for an emergency C-section!" came another call.
Those clinical words made a cold chill go down Roberts's spine.
C-section? As in, cut open? Like a dead fish!? It made sense though...the doctor in him monotonely said there would be no way his mate would be able to push, whatever he had been given had weakened him badly and caused a SEIZURE, Robert would be lucky if Henry made it out alive! If their baby was alive after being drugged...
The alpha fell to his knees in the hallway, feeling both cold and hot at the same time, why would someone...who could do this...why...
"Mr.Lanyon?" A soft voice went and the alpha looked up to see a blond nurse looking down at him "Why don't you go and get some air? I'm sure your mate and baby will be okay" she smiled softly, green eyes showing empathy and kindness, she looked sort of like how he thought a female Hyde would look in all honesty, though the sweet look was something he was sure would never grace the gremlin's face, it might never grace Henry's face again...
The nurse helped Robert to his feet and helped him walk to the doors and even found him a bench to sit on, offering a cup of coffee before she turned on a heel and dashed back inside the building, leaving the alpha with his thoughts.
The night was still warm, not yet turning cold with the coming winter, the bench was still wet from the earlier rain, but Robert found he could not care less about his trousers, who would benif-wait a minute...
His father...
Was that old windbag really capable of something like this? his family went after people who did things like this! But his father was stuck in his ways...thought he knew best all the time...if he thought Henry was in the way of a goal...he would do it, in a heartbeat.
Robert was going to KILL him, quite literally...
The monster that Robert wanted to break away from stirred inside him as he thought back on how pale his mate had been...how trying to encourage their baby to kick well they waited for the ambulance had proven fruitless...if both of them ...no...don't think like that yet...
He would bid his time if ...when...Henry was out of the woods and they would celebrate or mourn together, then the alpha would sharpen a few knives, perhaps this could be Henry's first kill...wouldn't that be poetic justice? Oh, he knew just the thing to use... --- "You can go in now" the nurse smiled as she watched the alpha attempt to look dignified well carrying a smiley face balloon.
Robert walked as straight and tall as he could into the hospital room, biting back the urge to jump for joy when he saw Henry's eyes were open and the omega managed to smile weakly at him.
"Hey," Robert said softly, stepping forward so he could gently run his fingers through the other's soft brown locks, loving how the strands curled between his fingers as if they did not want to let go.
"W..where is the baby?" Henry croaked, still feeling horrible, and stomach throbbing slightly no doubt from the new cut in it, but...perhaps some good came out of this...just a little hope...was their child alive? Or had it been killed from the-
"Don't you mean 'babies'?" Robert smiled, having hardly believed the news himself, but excited to blurt it out to anyone who would listen and was sure he annoyed a few people in doing so, especially after learning his mate would recover on top of it.
Henry almost felt like fainting again hearing that but found himself grinning loopily, no doubt a side effect of the medication meant to keep him from ripping his stitches going to search himself for the new little ones "Two for the price of one"
'Price of one my ass! We went through hell and got our shit wrecked!' Edward whined, feeling the effects of the medicine himself and also just wanting to see his new little monster! Give them their babies already!!!
"I have a great big surprise for you when you and our children can go home...or at least back to the society, I do believe everyone pitched in to build cribs...and a stroller...and slings...we are going to be up to our elbows in baby-related inventions aren't we?" Robert nearly winced, no doubt several 'improvements" will have been made to normal baby things...
"No doubt, what is the surprise?" Henry asked curiously.
"Oh, it will be a SCREAM" Robert grinned, already having asked one of the lodgers to make a few...adjustments to Henry's cane.
Would anyone want a sequel to this? Or do you guys have ideas for something?
#TGS#tgs jekyll#Tgs Hyde#Robert Lanyon X Henry Jekyll#Jekyon#Mpreg#male pregnancy#the glass scientists#glass scientists#The glass scientists AU#TGS Serial!killer AU
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Liquid Courage - Pt 2
Billy Hargrove x Reader
Warnings: Cursing, as always
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: Yeah, so this just kind of came out. I edited it to the best of my abilities, but it was all in one sitting so I apologize for any mistakes. Also, the title doesn’t fit this part as well, but I tried to squeeze it in. Let me know if you have any thoughts, and enjoy!
Shakily, a breath left your chest and you stared at your hands, head throbbing and heart racing. Even moments later, what you had just experienced felt entirely surreal. Your head was swimming and not because of nausea.
You wrung your hands out, trying to get a hold of yourself and enter reality once more. But it was difficult as your exhaustion was catching up to you.
As quietly as a mouse, you tried to enter the living room, seeing Aaron splayed unceremoniously on the couch and the other two nowhere to be seen. Part of you wanted to say nothing and forget this ever happened, taking a spot on the other couch, but the other part of you wanted to tell Claire and Jessica every single detail before you forgot. A small timid voice in the back of your mind questioned if you they would even believe it, but you tried to shake those doubts out of your head.
Soft steps took you upstairs before you could truly decide what to do. There was no harm in simply seeing if Claire or Jessica was up, right? Shaky hands reached towards Claire’s bedroom door, but you were reassured by the whispers behind the wooden door. You hesitated, for only a second, before coming in, smiling sheepishly at the pair.
Suddenly, you felt a force smack you square in the face and watched in shock as the pillow dropped to the ground. Claire’s high-pitched voice screeched at you, “Where the fuck have you been (Y/N)? We looked everywhere for you before we left!”
You could hear Jessica nudge her, before saying, “I told her that you might’ve been up to some fun us girls can’t give you.” She winked at you before adding, “Though we were kind of worried. Claire said you were both pretty drunk when she last saw you.”
Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you made your way over to them, joining the pair on Claire’s bed as they scoot over for you. You couldn’t manage to bring your eyes to look at them as you shakily exhaled, gathering your scattered thoughts. “I’m really sorry for worrying you guys like that, I should’ve thought about it.”
Another pause, you began playing with your nails. “But it was for good reason I suppose?” Nervous laughter left your lips, nails starting to scratch at your hand. “I sort of made out with someone?”
Ever so slowly, you glanced up at them and both of their jaws dropped. More nervous laughter escaped you, almost unwilling, as Claire took your hands. She yelled at you, “Well?! You can’t just say you made out with someone and come back at one in the morning. Spill everything before I die of anticipation.”
Laughter, a bit more confident this time, came out of you and Jessica, amused with her antics. You took one more deep breath in, deciding just to tell them everything. They were your best friends after all, they deserved it.
“Okay, so you guys know how much I love dancing.” They nodded, urging you to continue and in mere moments, the dam holding everything in burst open. You continued, “So yeah, I was dancing to my own beat and accidentally caught some people’s attention and one of them just so happened to be Billy Hargrove. So he came over and we exchanged a few words before we went outside.”
Jessica sat there in absolute shock as Claire shook your shoulders. She screeched, “Holy shit, did you fuck Billy Hargrove? Oh my god, oh my god, he has the best bod in our entire senior class. (Y/N), oh my god!”
You smacked her arm, “Let me continue!” She quieted down, though was still giggling quietly and the rest of the story came out. Everything from your intense make out sessions to you throwing up outside of his car to him not acting like a complete asshole, which was still hard to wrap your head around.
You saved the quiet conversation between you two for your ears only though. What he had said, the way he had said it, it felt so intimate and there was some weird level of trust you had formed with him. You simply left it off at him laughing at your drunken state, but being understanding and dropping you off.
Jessica quietly mumbled, “I cannot believe he wasn’t a jerk to you. I mean, how many guys has he punched at Hawkins? Not to mention the way he treats literally anyone he thinks is in his way. Wow, I’m amazed.”
Claire had long since gone off the deep end. She was staring at the ceiling, processing everything and trying to comprehend how her best friend had made out with Billy Hargrove. She finally commented, “I cannot believe this! There is no way you were bold enough to do that. You looked super hot, but like, it’s Billy Hargrove! Are you sure you didn’t imagine it while you were hunched over the porcelain throne?”
Both you and Jessica turned onto Claire and you had to admit, that hurt. Both of you stared at her, and unfortunately, she kept blabbing, “I mean that���s just a wild story. As we all know, Billy is the resident bad boy. He wouldn’t do something like that, not with you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, huffing out as she glared at you.
You retorted, “I’m sorry? Why would I make that up? Listen, I know it’s really hard to believe, but that’s what happened! And yeah Claire, Billy was super into me, what, do you think I’m not good-looking enough? Or are you just that jealous?” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your headache coming back full force and exhaustion adding to your irritable mood.
She scoffed, before saying, “I’m just trying to look out for you (Y/N)! On Monday, you’re probably gonna be the talk of the whole school, and not in a good way, remember what happened with Nancy Wheeler?”
Jessica watched on and cleared her throat before saying, “Listen guys, maybe we should all just get some sleep. We’re all coming down and if you guys are anything like me, you can probably feel the hangover starting to set in. Let’s just go to bed, okay?”
You were honestly really wounded, trying to ignore the constricting feeling in your chest. Everything she had said dug deep, scratching at the self-esteem battles you already fought. Did she actually think this little of you?
You added, “Yeah, you’re right, I’ll go to sleep downstairs.”
You intentionally gave Claire or Jessica no time to protest, wanting to get out of there and not have to deal with Claire’s mood. You just needed sleep, Jessie was right.
Words were exchanged behind you, but you grabbed a spare blanket and took the couch across from the one Aaron was snoring heavily on. While your thoughts were still whirring, your body was getting to the point where it just could not stay awake anymore. Your eyes closed moments after hitting the soft leather and you fell into a dreamless sleep.
~
Soft voices woke you slowly from your rather deep sleep, and regret filled you up as your head felt like somebody was stomping on it with concrete blocks, over and over and over. You groaned, eyes refusing to open as the light would only make it that much worse.
A deep masculine voice you knew as Aaron’s called out, “Good morning (Y/N), Jessie told me you had quite the night.”
Another groan came out of your chest, and you simply pleaded, “Water.”
Laughter met your ears and you wanted to join in, but the sorry state of your body stopped you. And so began another beautiful Saturday.
~
Without much more excitement, Monday rolled around and you could feel your nerves eating you alive. Claire had apologized the morning after, admitting that she was jealous, but all of her words still swam through your head. What if all of Hawkins heard about your rather embarrassing night and you were labelled as pathetic, or a slut, or maybe Billy had just been leading you on the whole time. The thought itself made you pale and a part of you wanted to throw up as you watched the clock tick, signaling you should head to the high school in question.
The ride to school was the quickest you had ever experienced and it took all of your effort to stay on course, eventually parking in front of the worn doors of Hawkins High. Hands flew across your steering wheel, dancing to something you couldn’t hear, trying desperately to get these nerves out some way. You tried to steady your breathing when the first bell rang, signaling 5 minutes before classes started.
Your hand grabbed the car handle and you stared blankly, possible insults repeating in your head like some hauntingly terrible song. But the warning bell rang before you knew it, and you grabbed your things, running to class.
Your eyes were peeled, trying to see any suspicious activity or unwanted attention. You were on edge the entire day and you could tell due to the worried glances your friend group shot you whenever they saw you in the hall. But as far as you could tell, they were the only one looking at you that way. And slowly, you relaxed.
The biggest sigh of relief left you as the last bell of the day rang, and you gave Jessica a grateful look. You commented, “Man, I never thought I would be so happy that math was over.”
She chuckled, squeezing your arm and adding, “See? Nothing happened and life is back to normal, though you do have quite the experience under your belt now.”
She winked at you, and the two of you began discussing any plans for the day as you made your way to the parking lot. It felt nice to finally untense after a rather anxiety-inducing weekend. You two met with Claire and Aaron and the four of you chatted for a while, just hanging outside the front steps of Hawkins. You didn’t know how much time had passed before Jessie looked at her watch and yelled, “Oh my god it’s almost 4 PM! I have to go, like now! I’ll see you guys later!”
Her tall lanky form ran off, while Claire and Aaron began mumbling that they should get home too, you all saying your goodbyes.
You glanced at the front of Hawkins and let out another deep breath, grateful for a rather boring day. Then a rough voice called out, “Hey!”
You looked around, realizing you were the only person left in front of the lot and your heart free fell directly into your stomach. You turned around slowly, seeing Billy Hargrove walking out of the school. You couldn’t breathe again as he walked up to you.
He smirked at you, cheekily greeting, “Hey, I don’t think I ever got your name the other night.”
You watched him, as confused as ever. You thought that he had wanted to forget about everything as much as you wanted to forget that you were seconds away from puking on him on Friday night. You shook your head and replied, “I didn’t think you wanted it.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes before biting his lip. He just stared at you and for a second, you thought you saw the same boy from Friday in the car, rubbing your back and talking sweetly to you. “I figure I should know who’s life I basically saved.” You snorted, beginning to question if Claire was right and you had imagined it. But you held yourself back, remembering the heart-wrenching look in his eyes. “(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”
He chuckled, “Pretty.” And you both just looked at each other for a few moments. He then walked away without another word, revving his Camaro just as loud as before and driving off like a speed demon.
You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to understand what game he was playing. But you came up with nothing. And so you continued on with your life, although a certain blonde crossed your mind daily, meddling with your simple life.
~
A week passed without another Billy incident and you thought that maybe he had just wanted a name to a face. You don’t know why, but you had hit your head against your bedroom wall enough times trying to figure it out. Even Aaron had no clue, figuring if he had just wanted to get in your pants he would’ve tried something again.
Today, you four had planned to meet at the diner just off of mainstreet and you were humming quietly to “Billie Jean”, finding it oddly fitting, as you drove there. It was a quiet, but cold afternoon, winter finally turning to spring, which meant you could convince yourself it was warm enough to get a milkshake.
Easily, you slid the car into park, glancing at the neon pink and blue accents that almost hurt your eyes. It was all just a bit much to be honest, but what was life without neon?
You smiled to yourself before scanning the parking lot, not seeing any of your friends’ vehicles. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to snack on some fries before they showed up.
You walked up to the joint, debating on if you should start eating before they got there when you heard a somewhat familiar screech of tires, Bon Jovi screaming out of bass-loaded speakers.
Your gaze whipped to see none other than Billy’s bright blue Camaro skidding to a halt in front of the diner. You watched with interest as a young girl with fire red hair slammed the car door, huffing as she stomped past you into the restaurant. You hung back, just staring inquisitively when Billy’s rough voice called out, “You better be ready when I’m back!”
The kid flipped him off, pushing past you as she entered and a few more dots connected in your head. It seems his family life wasn’t exactly stellar
You turned back to the car and saw him staring at you too, so you waltzed over, legs taking you before your thoughts caught up. You greeted, “Hey Billy, what are you up to?”
He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue as he motioned to the girl who had long since gone inside. You merely raised one eyebrow and he stared back ahead at the road.
You grabbed the car door gently, the window still open, waiting, almost asking if you could open it. Seconds later, you heard the car door unlock and you entered the vehicle, not able to stop yourself from glancing at the back seat woefully.
You questioned, “Little sister?” He wouldn’t meet your gaze as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. He corrected, “Step-sister.”
You nodded, not wanting to press too much, especially given the precarious relationship between you two. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you and he drove the car into a parking spot as several loud honks came from behind him.
Carefully, you turned your body towards him and more words tumbled out, “Why? I just can’t wrap my head around why you let me stay in your car and drove me home, and to be completely honest, it’s been driving me crazy.”
Jaw set, you could see him begrudgingly turn towards you, finally looking at you. He retorted, “As I said, nice to talk to someone who isn’t an airhead or dickwad.” You could hear him audibly sigh.
“Well then maybe do you actually want to talk sometime? At least if that’s what you keep telling me.” Last time you could blame it on the alcohol, but right here, right now, you had no clue what on Earth was making you say these things.
The way his adam’s apple bobbed was visible and you briefly wondered if you had taken it too far, crossing the unwritten rules of social hierarchy. He exhaled, before saying, “What’s in it for you exactly?”
Your hand itched to reach for his as you could see his features softening, almost against his will based on the grimace on his face. But you actually had to think this out, “Because Billy, you piqued my interest. I can see there is more than just a rebel without a cause in front of me. I don’t know what it is, but I want to figure it out. Blame it on curiosity, or nosiness, I don’t know, I just want to know.”
For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes grow wet, but he quickly shook his head, earring catching the light as it dangled from his ear. He quickly looked back at you and said, “Fine.” He paused then continued, “Why not right now? I’ve got nothing better to do and I don’t see you here with anyone.”
You were about to protest, sure your friends would show up any moment, but something stopped you. So you nodded and opened the door. He followed suit and the two of you walked into the diner, close, but not touching.
The pair of you quickly grabbed a booth and you glanced around for a second, seeing his step-sister staring at you two in shock. He had intentionally sat with his back to her and you giggled a bit at the incredulous look she sent your way.
His lip curled up as he found out what you were staring at, “I thought you wanted to talk to me, not my step-sister.”
You nodded, turning your stare right back to him. You responded, “You’re right. So start off easy, where are you from?”
“California, next.”
You laughed dryly, before saying, “What’s the beach like?”
And he stopped, getting a twinkle in his eyes. At that moment though, the waitress came over and you could not believe the way she was looking at him, a starving fox eyeing fresh meat. He smirked and she purred out, “What can I get you?”
She leaned in towards him and though he still had a cocky aura about him, he didn’t seem to pay much attention. He looked at you, before glancing back at the blonde waitress, “Strawberry milkshake, two straws.” He winked at you and the girl’s shoulders immediately fell, looking between the two of you dejectedly before running back.
You stopped your eyes from rolling to the back of your head as you laughed more. “Gag me with a spoon, what was that?”
Just the corner of his lip turned up and he shrugged, before saying, “Was I right that you like strawberry?”
Your attention refocused, suddenly confused how he knew that. It was a pretty generic flavor, but still. You stuttered out, “Y-yeah, actually, but how did you know that?”
Another shrug, before he glanced at the window. He started talking, not looking at you as he began, “The beach is a different world. There’s nothing like it in Hawkins, or all of this shithole they call Indiana. It’s cool and refreshing and free. The ocean goes on for miles, you can’t see the end of it. It’s big, bigger than you or me, or our high school, or god forsaken town. It’s … it’s what I miss.”
Your breath caught in your throat again as you didn’t know how to respond to that. When he opened up, it was always sudden, and kind of like a flash of lightning. You were afraid of how long it would last, but you couldn’t stop yourself from just staring at him in wonder.
He turned back to you and smiled. You mean really smiled, not smirked, not a sarcastic grin, not that fake crap he normally pulled but a genuine smile. “I think you would like the beach.”
Finally, words came to you, “Why is that? You seem to assume a lot about me for not knowing me very well.”
The smile lessened, but stayed on his face as you said, “You’re a nice girl (Y/N), and you remind me of someone I used to know.”
He left it at that and another soft silence captured the two of you. HIs hand reached out to grab yours at some point and you felt yourself blush. This wasn’t at all how you expected your day to go.
Your meaningful conversation quickly turned into witty banter, the two of you discussing your likes and dislikes, favorite pastimes, fun memories. It was nice.
Then the milkshake came out as you were in the middle of telling him how you had fallen flat on your face at your first recital when you were ten, the whole crowd laughing. She sat it in between you two and didn’t say a word as she stalked back off.
You quickly grabbed for the shake, stealing it to your side and he pulled it to his. Your eyes narrowed, him having thrown down the gauntlet. You both began pulling at the glass shake when his hand grabbed yours instead of the glass. He pulled you towards him, you lifting off your seat and resting somewhat on the table between you two. He didn’t say a word as he moved up too, kissing you rather passionately.
Your lips moved with his right away, the action familiar in a distant sort of way. You grabbed his hair again when a small girl’s voice rang out, “Disgusting, get a room BIlly or I’ll tell mom!”
The two of you broke apart immediately and he growled back, “Shut up Max or I’m never driving you anywhere!” You thanked god the diner was mostly empty as you felt your face grow impossibly hot, an elderly couple grimacing at the two of you for such blatant affection.
He gingerly took a sip of the shake and then passed it to you. You didn’t say anything and sucked down the sweet drink, eyes just watching him as he watched you.
You didn’t know what to say, and without realizing it, drank most of the shake. You started to feel the back of your mouth go cold and then light up with pain as brain freeze overtook you. Billy just laughed at you and your immediate reaction was to stick your tongue out like a child.
His laugh got louder and you joined in before it got quiet and you reminded yourself of what just happened. Your eyes studied the curves and pores of your hands intensely as you could feel his turquoise eyes still on you.
Gently, a finger lifted your face and he said, “Hey (Y/N).”
You fought embarrassment to look back at him, afraid this was all a dream. He laughed, before continuing, “Still like talking to me?”
You nodded and spoke up, “Yeah, I really do. You have layers, and I want to see all of them come off.”
You didn’t realize how sexual that sounded when his pupils dilated slightly. You half wondered if the shake had been spiked as you got that same rush of confidence the vodka had given you over a week ago.
He didn’t say anything but took your hand, slamming a five down on the table, and running out of there with you. You found yourself laughing as the two of you got into his car, you ignorant of Jessica and Claire having just driven up.
He all but pushed you into his car, launching into another make out session. You both grabbed at each other, in a haze of lust, when there was a honk from behind you and you tried to calm down.
You grabbed for his hand, steadying your breathing. He broke the silence, his gaze having grown stormy as he finally replied, “You don’t want to see more than this, it gets dark, rotten, cold.”
His whole demeanor had changed at the drop of a dime and you could feel his hand break from yours. You demanded, “Actually Billy Hargrove, yes I do. I want to get to know you, and all of you. Not just horny you, or silly you, or the jackass facade you have at school. I can see that you’ve been through some shit, I get it, but I quite frankly don’t give a shit. You can’t keep talking to me like we’ve known each other forever and then closing yourself off. Either keep up being the King of Hawkins, lord of the dicks or let me in.” You huffed out, not realizing just how frustrated you were about this until now.
He stared at his hands and it got so silent, you could hear the drop of a pin. He didn’t move, still as a statue, and you watched.
But you could only watch for so long and began getting out of the car when his strong hand pulled you back in. He shut his eyes tightly, before relaxing, saying, “It’s not gonna be easy.” You moved to leave again, not wanting to hear him protest and make up more bullshit, but he pulled you back like the tide. “But okay.”
He grabbed your neck, pulling you into him and kissing you with just as much passion as before, but this was softer. You could almost feel the raw emotion flowing between you two as his hands ran through your hair, greedily soaking up every inch of you. You all but melted.
He stopped before anything else and you slowly broke into a grin. “Good.”
#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove x you#reader insert#imagine#imagines#x reader#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things imagines#stranger things reader insert
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I feel like I should get deeper into my choice to take on the nonbinary label. Is it based on misogyny? Yes. Absolutely, yes. But a woman simply protecting herself from misogyny is not complicit in the misogyny that she is forced to face. Radical feminists should know that, I think. However, I realise that I may have missed to communicate that clearly. Allow me to try better, and dig deeper into my wounds.
Identifying as nonbinary does give me a sense of relief, a sense of wholeness - a relief to be whoever I want and feel allowed to just exist as my authentic self, free from either fucked up gender stereotype, thgose of both men and women - which might sound good on the surface level... but looking deeper, through my radfem eyes, what it means, is this: Why do I feel like I cannot be my authentic self as a woman, all of a sudden? There we have it, the big bleeding wound in my heart, and that's what I feel a need to elaborate on. I'll stay out of the nonbinary tag this time. This isn't for them. (Although anyone can reblog, comment or give a like.) What do I actually want, for myself, if it wasn't for society? I wish to continue transitioning. I wanna go back on testosterone as I deeply miss it and I'm panicking about my body hair thinning out and decreasing. I do not want to lose it for the world! I'm holding onto every single one of my vanishing hairs, for dear life! At the same time, I still wish to get new boobs. I still miss them sorely and I just need to have those kinda body parts again. I feel broken without boobs, I panic without T. I cannot explain it. It's weird alright, but I don't give a fuck! Without societal imput that's just how I want to look and love looking like. It's just body mods. At core, that's what it is: just body modifications. You know that as radfems - I know it just as well.
I love my body when it's masculinised yet retaining all of my originally female parts, such as curves, breasts and my pussy. That makes me feel very positively connected to my body; so to the point that it makes me feel entirely at peace with that I'm female, and very comfortable with that it makes me a woman. But I cannot be okay with being female if I had to be a traditional looking woman, or even a butch-looking woman. That is not ME, neither of those would be my authentic self. So, my medical transition deeply matters to me, as body mods, and I will not walk away from that. I believe that continuing my medical transition while still honouring my female body and womanhood is what is right for me personally. I understand that there is an issue with the beauty industry affecting me too, but I'm clearly not making myself beautiful for men - nor am I making myself ugly for them. What I'm doing is making myself beautiful for me, in an unconventional way, even though it makes me also ugly for most other lesbians. Can you understand then, from that perspective, how deeply important it is for me, that I willingly make such a sacrifice? (I'm already in a happy lesbian relationship, so maybe you can't, but alright.) I do not believe that I mod myself out of self hate. Not anymore, because I did in the past, and I believe that I can tell the difference between living as a man while actively attempting to escape one's female biology - and living as a male-passing woman while actively honouring my beautifully modified female body. You may think I'm mutilated, but I'd disagree. I am beautiful and my high self-esteem greatly surpasses such rudeness.
Is a heavily tattooed woman self-hating for her mods? I don't know what you may think, but if not, then neither am I with my beard and deep voice and future fake tits. An intentionally virilised (fancy word for masculinised, I like it quite a lot), modified woman is what I am, want to be and remain as. I do not have any "social dysphoria" accompanying my body/sex dysphoria since I recovered from my traumas, and thus I feel no need or wish what so ever to call myself a man, and I feel good calling myself what is true in science: female, girl, woman, she/her, lady, ma'am, miss, etc.
I believe that I have somehow managed, against all odds, with the help of radfems on tumblr... to balance transitioning my dysphoria with being a self-loving biological woman. Thank you for that. So what's the catch? I mentioned misogyny. Well, socially, as a male-passing, yet suspiciously curvy and overtly effeminately styled person - I have effectively lost my right to be a woman outside of radblr. I want you to understand this, especially other radfem's, so please listen carefully if you've got a few minutes, because this is important, as it absolutely has to do with both female oppression as well as trans ideology bullshit (and I'll try not to scream this time, but I can't make any promises, because this is deeply painful and upsetting to me.) Can't women take testosterone and like it and still be women? That's what's so complicated, and I need to be upfront and clear about why. Technically, yes of course that is possible. No one can or should stop women from taking T if they truly want a beard and permanently deep voice, right - but is it possible socially? No, in my experience it is not, and I will now try my best to explain to you what I mean by that, as it's kinda abstract. There are two aspects to this. Firstly, any female person claiming to want those physical features is going to be told that they then cannot be a woman. They are told that is incorrect thinking, that they are a trans man or nonbinary, that they have internalised transphobia or that they are indeed a "cis" woman but confused and should NOT take testosterone, implying that will make her dysphoric if she really is a woman. Because trans ideology says so.
Secondly, living as a male-passing woman who does not want to pass as female, was something that I found to be so difficult in practice that eventually it became too much for me. It isn't dysphoria-inducing, not at all. But it's very, very frustrating and constantly challenging. I can no longer access women's spaces so I have to put up with using the men's including locker rooms, convincing people of my still female sex is next to impossible (even doctors!), other women view me as a threat and an imposter, I'm frequently barred from lesbian spaces unless my girlfriend invites me to them first, I am frequently mistaken for being a poorly passing trans woman, and so on.
I'm effectively forced to either live as a trans woman (which I'd feel is degrading, untrue, and deceptive) or to claim a transmasculine label to at least be able to infer that I'm "afab" - but a WOMAN? No. Woman, in the eyes of society as it is today - cannot be a happily male-passing, dysphoric female. That is deemed an oxymoron. Gender has taken presendency over sex. People assume, wrongfully, that my "gender identity" is woman - and they assume, just as wrongfully, that my sex is male - and they make both those assumptions at once. They then refuse to accept that they are wrong, no matter how hard I have tried to explain it, over and over ad nauseum. I don't even understand why that keeps happening!
Therefore, I've come to the sad conclusion that I'm simply no longer welcome into society as a woman, based on my choice of looks, as I am indeed happily transitioned and do not wish to change what testosterone improved on my body. I completely refuse to. Not to be dramatic, but... I'd rather fucking die. My body is not a property of society. It is MY property. My ONLY true property. And I'll decorate it however I so damn well please. But what can I do about it, being treated like that? Realistically, in actuality, what CAN I possibly do about it? Honestly, not much. I can either suck it up and "admit" to being a man, or I can fight endlessly and keep explaining how I'm really a woman, or choose some kinda middle-road like nonbinary, but I cannot win that fight. Perhaps (hopefully) radical feminism can, but me, as a single, individual person? No, I cannot win that battle. I stand defenseless against a massive army, and that enemy has worn me out. I have essentially lost my right to be a woman, by being my authentic self. That is very, very sad. It scares me, it honestly mortifies me, but I have to deal with it somehow. I can't just slump down and cry about it, no matter how tempting that is.
I do not think that my experience with this is entirely unique. I believe I probably share it with tons of other gnc and/or male-passing women, but I am new to this.
I'm 30 years old, and have only lived as a male-passing woman for one and a half year. I grew up as a typically feminine girl, dysphoric about my sex traits, but never dysphoric about my feminine expression. My gnc mom taught me well, to separate sex from gender expression, and I thus never confused the two as I see sooo many other gnc and trans people do. I do not blame them, because so many people infer that my femininity=woman and my masculinity=man and that the sum of my whimsical androgyny equals nonbinary. But I cannot, do not, WILL NOT and have never in my life... seen it that way. However, big however, I STILL turned out dysphoric about my sex, despite being a happily feminine female, and lesbian at that, and that is something few seem to understand. I get that, I totally do. It's probably rare. Just see for yourself how empty the "dysphoric femme" tag is. Yes, it exists, with a whole whopping three posts. And I struggle to explain it.
It's very hard for me to live as a male-passing woman because it is entirely new for me and I'm struggling to adapt to facing this extreme level of misogyny. I break down from it, I do not know how to handle it. Perhaps most gnc/dysphoric women have lived with that crap since they were young tomboys, but I haven't, because I was never a tomboy. I suppose it will get easier, as much else does, and that is why I'm pretty sure that me using the nonbinary label now is only going to be temporary. Because I do not know how to deal with this. I'm sorry... I'm sorry for breaking down and admitting defeat, I'm so fucking sorry. I just want to be treated with the dignity and respect that I give to others, or at least just an ounce of politeness. So am I actually nonbinary, then, genderwise? No, I am not. Neither my choice of gender roles, nor my androgynous blob of a personality, not even my strange dysphoria is evidence of a nonbinary gender. If that’s how others see it: fine, but I cannot force myself to actually believe that THAT's what makes me nonbinary... No matter how much I keep getting that forced down my throat. All I do is choke on it. What I am is a woman, sex-wise, as I've always stated. Me taking on the nonbinary label is indeed a choice. A reluctant, but very deliberate, active choice.
Problem is that I cannot live authentically while at the same time calling myself what I literally am, without getting brutally punished for it. Yes, I believe the ones to blame for that... are the TRA's. Trans activism slowly changed society to overlook sex in favour of gender. I believe that is why I am being denied my womanhood, because it is based on my invisible sex. If you look clearly female in your day-to-day life, I do not think that you could possibly experience this. To clarify: I do not mind passing as male. In fact I like it quite a lot. What I do mind, is being treated like crap for who I am, and not being believed to be what I am. I had no idea that this would happen upon my detransition. I am shocked, and I am hurt. End notes: I wish that someday I can truly reclaim my womanhood, without having to change my body to fit societal standards, or claim a trans label to dodge the societal standards. I miss my womanhood, and I need it... but it has been snatched from my hands. The enemy won't let me have it back, unless I comply to the rules and (sell my soul to the patriarchy) turn myself into a conventionally attractive barbie doll - and my attempts to reclaim it without complying to those rules, are utterly futile. I am an incorrect female... deprived of my right to be a woman, and it hurts. Man, it hurts sooo bad!
Honestly I don't know what to do about it, but for now I need a breathing break from this constant battle, because my enemy has exhausted me. "Nonbinary" is such a breathing break. It is my retreat, but I will NOT surrender. Someday I will charge back into battle again, and shove down people's throats that I'm damn well a woman regardless of what they think of it. Because this bearded bitch ain't fucking dead yet!!!
#explaining my nonbinary radfem label a bit better#yes its because of misogyny#gnc female#male-passing women#gender critical#radfem#detransition#dysphoric female#metaphors#real life vs dumblr#reclaiming womanhood was way harder than i thought#also im going back to medically transition#this is probably the most brutally honest ive been about this shit
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How Ambien Works ?
The Ambien defense was also utilized in the event of Julie Ann Bronson, a flight attendant from Texas. Bronson took a few Ambien to help her sleep. She went to bed early, and was drinking wine earlier in the afternoon. She awakened in jail, still in her pajamas, barefoot and terrified. She was horrified when she had been told that she had run such as an 18-month-old woman who suffered severe brain damage as a result of the mess. "It was surreal. It was just like a bad dream." In May of 2012, Bronson pleaded guilty to the felonies of intoxication assault and failure to stop and render aid. "I did the crime but I never planned to do it," she testified. "I wouldn't hurt a flea. And if I would have hit on somebody, I'd have stopped and helped. Ten decades bronson faced, but as a result of this Ambien defense, she will serve six months in prison and have ten years of probation.
What is Ambien 10mg
It was only in Patrick Kennedy's 2006 middle-of-the-night vehicle accident and explanation to arriving officers that he had been running late to get a vote the eccentric side effects of Ambien began to receive national attention. Kennedy claimed the sleeping aid had been obtained by him and had no recollection of those events and Buy Ambien Online Overnight .
On March 29, 2009, 45, Robert Stewart, stormed to the Pinelake Health and Rehab nursing home in Carthage, North Carolina and opened fire, killing eight people and wounding two. Stewart target was his estranged wife, who was employed as a nurse. She hid in a bathroom and was unharmed. Though there was evidence that Stewart's actions were premeditated (he allegedly had a target), Stewart's defense team successfully argued that since he was under the effect of Ambien, a sleep aid, at the time of the shooting, he was not in control of his activities. Instead of the fees Stewart was convicted on eight counts of second-degree murder. 142 -- 179 years was received by him.
Ambien Overdose
As a result of this Schweigert verdict, an attorney used the Ambien defense by asserting his client's arrest had been shifted six months following by the drug's labeling to overturn a 2006 DWI conviction for a New Jersey woman. The court agreed, stating it would be an"injustice to hold her accountable for the side effects of a popular and readily available medication that she was lawfully prescribed and properly handled." Not many prosecutors will consider the Ambien defense, and its position within criminal rules that are established is tenuous. It doesn't actually fall under"voluntary intoxication," in which somebody is responsible for their intoxication and some other events that happen as a consequence of that intoxication. The Ambien defendants took the medication, but they weren't aware they were drugging themselves in a means that could produce anything other. The defendants knowingly took the medicine, because they're recorded as potential side effects in the information, and also the responses weren't unpredictable. In the end, there's the"unconsciousness/sleepwalking" defense, where the individual is not responsible for the crime if he did not intentionally cause the sleepwalking or unconsciousness. So that this defense does not really apply the whole motivation for taking Ambien at the first area is to create unconsciousness.
Ambien 5mg vs Ambien 10mg
After its approval, Ambien Dose rose to dominance in the sleep aid industry. Travelers declared by it to fight jet lag, and girls, who suffer more insomnia purchased it. Sanofi, the French manufacturer of Ambien, made $2 billion in earnings in its summit. In 2007 Ambien's generic version was published, Zolpidem, and in less than $2 a tablet, it remains among the most prescribed medications in the usa, outselling painkillers such as prescription and Percocet strength ibuprofen. Not everyone who engages in bizarre behavior of accepting Ambien as a result ends up in trouble. And a few people today enjoy the large they get from the drug so much they are willing to miss the blackouts and effects that result. Recreational users started out taking the drug to treat insomnia, but discovered that if they fought the sleep-inducing effect of the drug, they could get really high. "It's like having that drink in the pub when you realize you need to go home -- I would combat the pill's effects and stay up, often telling my friends mad things like how to turn the light inside the room in energy, or the way that paintings of forest scenes in their walls were actually drawings of mermaids bathing themselves into blood," writes one young woman whose dependence on Ambien caused increasingly bizarre and alienating behavior. She continued staying awake regularly until one morning she awakened with a cut and two black eyes across her nose and taking the pill. Her cushions were bloody, and a stranger was, wrapped in a rug, on her floor and naked. This situation jarring, was not sufficient to get her to give Ambien up; the high was too good. It wasn't until she was discovered wandering the Brooklyn streets in the middle of the night, almost nude, that she managed to give it up.
Guideline For Ambien 10mg
Ironically, you are likely to succeed with the Ambien defense should you injure or kill someone than if you crash into a car or a tree. DWI laws just need the prosecution to show that the defendant got and was loaded into a vehicle to drive. There's no requirement. When someone is hurt, nevertheless, it is up to the prosecutor to demonstrate that the suspect was conscious enough to become guilty of the crime. It's hard to claim that they have knowledge of their actions, if people on Ambien are behaving in an automatic, or unconscious state. That's why people prefer Lindsey Schweigert get permits while Donna Neely, that was sleep-driving on Ambien and murdered a mother of 11, was acquitted of vehicular manslaughter. Tiger Woods was also famously associated with Ambien when one of his mistresses claimed that she and the golfer could have"crazy Ambien sex" Ambien reduces inhibitions and erases memories, an perfect combination for someone who's cheating on his spouse. The buzz created by the drug seems to boost sex. One girl described feeling"quite relaxed and sensuous" when she had sex on Ambien. "I suddenly have floaty energy. . I am tired, but lively. It's almost like I'm at a state. I could compare it somewhat to weed, but nothing I've done really contrasts, in all honesty."
Ambien is one of the best dose
Lindsey Schweigert took one Ambien Sleeping Pills prior to getting into bed at 6pm. She woke up with no idea how she'd gotten there. In the following weeks, Schweigert pieced together the events of the night. She'd gotten out of bed, drawn a tub, and left the house. After leaving her house she began driving to a local restaurant but crashed shortly. She was explained by police as glassy-eyed and swaying. The flipside to Ambien's supposed attributes is the fact that it's becoming increasingly used as a date rape drug. Actually, the single case of"sleep-sex" that appeared at an 2008 medical journal review of case reports on Ambien-related sleep behaviors involved the Ambien taker being raped. The identical absence of inhibition together with amnesia which makes it possible for people indulge in behavior that is dishonest, to commit offenses, and also have sex on Ambien is an ideal formulation for a sexual predator. Ambien is also readily accessible and more widely accessible than rohypnol, the drug related to date rape.
Ambien Overnight
Schweigert had. She had never been in trouble with the law and was scared of losing her job and having a criminal record. Prosecutors initially wanted to inflict a six month jail sentence as well as other punishments, but Schweigert's lawyer contended that Lindsey's bizarre behaviour on the night in question was a result of a drug which cautioned right on the tag that"After taking AMBIEN, you may get up from bed whilst not being completely awake and perform an activity that you do not understand you are doing. In fact, the attorney argued, Schweigert must have been taken to jail, not to a hospital. Prosecutors dropped the charges and enabled Lindsey to plead to the lesser charge.
Shortly Ambien users resisted Sanofi because of eccentric behaviours while. Based on attorney for the class action suit, Susan Chana Lask, folks were eating things like buttered eggs and cigarettes, complete with all the shells, while under the sway of Ambien. He blames Ambien, but for lapses in his memory within five decades and an extended period of writer's block. "...a great deal of my memory is gone. If you've ever taken Ambien, I don't know, but it's kind of a memory-eraser. This shit wiped out five decades of my life. People might tell me stories, and it's like,"I did that?" Eminem has maintained a few of his writing from this period, confessing to Rolling Stone that"It fucking out me...Letters all down the page -- it was like my hands weighed 400 pounds. I have that shit. As a reminder that I don't ever wish to go back."
Final Words
A part of the category of drugs known as hypnotics, ambien, was accepted by the FDA in 1992. It was designed for short-term use to fight insomnia and was a welcome change in the prevailing sleep aid at the moment, Halcion, which had been implicated in psychosis, suicide, and addiction and had been banned in half a dozen countries. Ambien works by activating the neurotransmitter GABA and binding it at precisely the exact same place as the benzodiazepines such as Xanax and Valium. The extra GABA action triggered by the drug inhibits. To put it differently, the brain is slowed down by it. Ambien is effective at initiating sleep working within 20 minutes. Unless it's taken in the release type, it does not, however, have an impact on sustaining sleep.
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Zi-O 34: *Insert Cake Boss Joke Here*
Blah, blah, insert apology for delay here, add in comments about how I’m totally going to watch the two Rider Time trilogies soon, off hand mention of HeiGen Forever’s raw being out, etc etc.
On to the liveblog. I’ve been at this for a long while now, there were. Distractions. (I swear, I really am working on my fics, guys. That was one of the distractions! I promise!)
Todoroki accuses Kyosuke of not only forgetting the Oni code, but of being too soft to take the Hibiki title. Interesting.
Woz’s intense need to Recap is enough to draw him out of a BSOD induced ‘nap’. That’s dedication to his part right there.
Aw, Junichiro’s not entirely certain what’s going on this time around, and looks like he’s kind of intimidated by Kyosuke’s over-the-top stoicism. ...Relatable.
Geiz rightfully calls Kyosuke out on making them go through the training while lying about being Hibiki, and is, of course, shot down by Stubborn McNotHibiki.
Said stubborn git also refuses to answer Sougo’s incredibly justified question as to whether he was the ‘Hibiki’ who trained Tsutomu, so… Sougo asks if Geiz will stay at the shop, while he and Tsukuyomi go to talk to Todoroki.
Poor Woz. Still coming off of his Blue Screen, he gets dragged off with them. While still in a fifty-percent bluescreen state.
“I… don’t remember how to rejoice…? Me…?” ‘Clearly,’ he has no purpose outside of his Proclamations.
Actually… Sougo’s been telling Woz off about the speeches lately, since he keeps trying to do them whenever they go into Trinity. That keeps throwing off the fights, and is driving both Geiz and Sougo up a wall. Maybe he really is losing his old touch.
Hm. So, yeah, Hibiki is, as said earlier, a title, much like being a True Kamen Rider is. It’s downright offensive of Kyosuke to call himself that, when he apparently dropped out as the former Hibiki’s apprentice. To say nothing of taking on an apprentice not only under false pretenses, but while clearly not ready to do so.
This also raises the question of what happened to the former Hibiki, but I don’t exactly think we’ll get that answered.
And Todoroki doesn’t have an apprentice, doesn’t think he’s ready to be a mentor. This, with him having been Todoroki for… hang on, pulling up the wiki because I forgot the year… since 2005, so for around 14 years now. And, as an aside, he didn’t study under ‘the previous Todoroki.’ He studied under Zanki, and said that he… if I remember hearing correctly, that he didn’t feel worthy of his master’s title. So, that’s interesting.
(As an aside, I recently started watching Decade, and just got through the Blade Arc. So it was a bit of a treat when I got to go “Hey! I know that guy!” when Narutaki summoned the AR Todoroki.)
Also… Sougo being all “you dont think your ready for an apprentice, but why not practice for a day? You’re seeing it as a personal weakness, and I have a Loyal Retainer here who’s having some sort of crisis of faith. Maybe you can help each other work through those! :)”
I pout in your general direction, Kyosuke. How dare you insult Junichiro’s cooking! And us having just met Agito, too! So it’s not even a good Distraction Technique, it’s just rude. Besides…
Kyosuke’s more than salty enough to make up for any imagined deficit.
>:3
Geiz left the yearbook out on the table, to get Kysouke to look at it. Geiz is having exactly none of your shit, Kyosuke, you betrayed a small child.
The ‘reading’ fading as he shuts the book is a nice touch.
Geiz: >:( where are you going?
Kyosuke: none of your business >:\
Junichiro: I found the salt! :) … oh. Now everyone’s taken off again… :(
Tsukuyomi: I don’t think leaving Woz to his own devices is a good idea right now. :\ Or inflicting him on anyone else.
Sougo: It’s fine. :)
Ooooh, I really like this fight so far. Kyosuke’s trying to be the one to snap Tsutomu out of his Another Hibiki Rage, but. You know. Can’t thwart stage one, and all. Dude’s not Hibiki, and you need the Specific Riders Power to win. Unless you have something like Zi-O II on hand.
Sougo goes straight into Zi-O II, since, well, it looks like they aren’t getting the correct RideWatch today, after all. I don’t think we’ve seen Zi-O II in a running transformation before now, either, he’s usually stationary.
Yeah, Kyosuke, Tsutomu and Sougo were friends. Why did you think he knew his name back at the shop?
I like the slight reverb effect whenever Sougo’s sword lands a blow, it’s really neat. I think it’s meshing the Cool Techno Music from this transformation with the Drum Aesthetic of Hibiki. It’s neat.
And that’s only added to when Kyosuke catches the finishing attack with his hands. Like. WOW that’s actually REALLY badass, man, I am impressed by that. There’s a sort of… skipping noise? Like a note interrupting itself over and over? I don’t know how to describe it… kind of like a really fast stuck record, but electronic.
But also…. Do Not Block Finishing Moves. That is how people DIE.
See? Now you’re down, and Another Hibiki’s run off. Good going.
:sigh: Sougo, he intentionally took that finisher. Like an idiot. A well meaning one, because he obviously wants to keep Sougo and Geiz from attacking Tsutomu, but still not a good idea. And then he’s an asshole. “No, obviously I’m not okay.”
Sougo, you don’t need to apologize. He’s the one who ran in there.
Kyosuke: “I don’t want your help. Buzz off. I’m the only Kamen Rider Oni we need around here. >:|”
None of the trio is impressed with you, dude.
AHAHAHA Todoroki has Woz doing laundry. (Nice reaction there, bud. I mean, I kind of agree, but way to keep your cool. We totally think you’re a stoic, noble, retainer for your overlord. Yup. That sure is what we’re thinking about you this arc.)
Woz, I get that physical labor isn’t usually your thing, and I get where you’re coming from, but if you’d just told Sougo even a little of what the problem is, you wouldn’t have landed yourself in this situation.
Also, you’re way overthinking the whole birthday thing. You’re not Kogami. Don’t try to be Kogami. Trust me. Do not try to be the cake boss.
And Todoroki’s right – just being with someone is often enough. (I mean, he probably just broke the hearts of any parents who watched Hibiki, but that’s just how it goes.)
After all.
What has Sougo wanted for years, possibly even more than being a king?
He’s wanted friends.
KYOSUKE. You can’t even go sulk properly? At least go further than one building length away.
Anyway, Sougo has to be direct with you. You’ve dodged literally every question that anyone’s asked today. Cut it out.
~ahahaha yes~ Over Quartzer’s acoustic version kicks in for Kyosuke waxing nostalgic about Hibiki.
And turns out that Tsutomu used to say the same things about him.
Okay. Okay i’m. i’m actually starting to cry a little, here. Flashback to when Sougo and Tsutomu were in third grade, Tsutomu’s being bullied about wanting to be an Oni. Sougo RUNS up and shouts the bullies down. Literally shouts – practically screams at them to not make fun of peoples dreams.
They wonder why anyone should care what the new kid thinks, and walk off because they’re bored now.
This means that Sougo’s just transferred in. He’s probably still fresh off of his parents’ deaths. They died less than a month into the school year, so he would have moved in with Junichiro two, maybe three months in, depending on how long he had to stay in the hospital. (probably not nearly as long as Hiryu did.)
Sougo’s brand new here, doesn’t have any friends – won’t have any real friends, knowing what we know of how he turns out – and he jumps to Tsutomu’s defense.
They promptly introduce themselves to each other, their high-reaching dreams included.
(Tiny!Sougo is TINY, especially compared to his classmates. Even the shortest of the bullies is taller than him. He’s so little.)
[At this point, I accidentally paused for over a half hour, because I thought of how to fix a section in chapter three of Press Start to Continue that I was having trouble phrasing. That then led to me patching up several other sections. Why with the small 8 year old protags and the vehicular accidents, Toei…]
Kysouke doesn’t believe that Tsutomu would have called him his hero. He’s none of these amazing things that Hibiki was, he lied about being Hibiki to this small child.
But Tsutomu didn’t know that. He probably found out, and he’s probably pissed at you now, but when he was an elementary schooler… Kyosuke was Hibiki.
Sougo: Work with us. We can save him together. :)
Tsukuyomi: WE FOUND ANOTHER HIBIKI!
Kysouke: … alright. let’s go.
This initial scene in the warehouse is really touching.
Kysouke knows he screwed up, but he couldnt’ help but train Tsumotu – the kid was just so eager to learn.
Training Tsutomu is what made Kyosuke a real Oni. Maybe not Hibiki, not then, but it was… I think that he thinks that was enough, for then. And that is why he’s going to save Tsutomu. He owes him that.
Todoroki listens to all of this from outside the door.
A pink light glows in Kyosuke’s pocket.
(A blogger jumps back to episode 33, to see if they had shown him a blank watch the first time they went to 9-to-5. They had not, they displayed the Zi-O watch. Drat.)
“Master… is this your way of saying I’m ready?”
We have a different passing down of the powers than those before. Whether it’s in Hibiki or in Zi-O.
I still don’t like you, Kyosuke, but. I think this was a really good way to go about this.
Todoroki looks uncertain still. But. He isn’t stepping in. he knew the prior Hibiki. And he said at the top of the episode, that if Kysouke couldn’t take care of the problem, then he would. And now he’s leaving.
Just in time for Woz to stride on in.
Woz: IWAE! A TITLE HAS BEEN PASSED DOWN!
Geiz: (Oh no here we go.)
Sougo: (...is he back to normal now? Or what counts as normal? Even I know he’s weird…)
Woz: I am sorry I was so unprofessional before.
Sougo just nods mutely. (“This is fine.”)
He doesn’t know what your deal has been today, Woz. And at this point, it doesn’t matter. It’s battle time!
Sougo: It’s trinity time!
Woz and Geiz, in unison: WAIT WHAT HOLD ON WE’RE STILL NORMAL SOUGO NO-
AHAHAHA THE TRINITY WATCH DOESN’T CARE IF YOU’RE TRANSFORMED YET OR NOT I’M SO SORRY BOYS
And also apparently it feels wrong to get turned into a wristwatch.
(I tell you, watching Decade now was a great choice. The universal reaction of “WAIT WHAT HOLD ON WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK THERE” is a gift. The Final Form Rides themselves, not so much. But it’s enough that once Tsukasa shows up in ReUnited, Philip and Shotaro are the ones who are going to warn people. “We’re all teaming up to kick his ass, he has it coming so many times over, but Do NOT Turn Your Back On Decade, he can do Weird Shit to you.”)
That aside, Sougo tries to get them into a fighting pose, but Woz’s gotta Woz. He Must Rejoice. It is in the very fiber of his being. He’s not above hijacking the body. And inside they’re just so resigned to it at this point. Sougo’s little pout when they’re lined up oh my god. (Geiz’s arm is trying not to punch Woz’s. I don’t think he can hold back much longer.)
(Let Geiz have the steering wheel at some point, guys! It’s only fair!)
Kyo- Hibiki: Is that really necessary?!
Sougo: …I mean, we’ve tried to talk him out of it, but…
Geiz: (literally shoving Woz’s arm down) F THIS LETS FIGHT!
And this… eh. It’s a fight. I still like the Trinity finisher(s) – I think I noticed before that there’s projections of the three boys right before they attack. But I didn’t catch that it calls out all three of their ‘finisher names’ in sequence, the same way it calls their Rider names. So that’s a neat touch.
And, at the Passing of the Watch, much like with Blade, Chalice, and Agito…
“Are you sure you want to hand this over? It’s your power. You finally get to be Hibiki.”
“It’s fine. I can find my own path.”
...The lighting in this scene is really nice. It’s not a type we see in Zi-O, though. Is this a visual reference to Hibiki the season? I know that cinematography wise, the first half was very different from the rest of Kamen Rider. And since they had the kanji flashing on screen in this and the previous episode, is this another way of calling back? There’s a lot more bloom than we’ve had before, is all.
“Will you train me again?”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Don’t care!”
That’s really nice. All three of them – Sougo, Kyosuke, and Tsutomu – are making their way down their respective paths.
…
All four of them. Todoroki seems to think he might be ready to take on an apprentice of his own.
But he has to run it by Hinaka first.
TODOROKI. DID YOU GET TO MARRY HER? IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU GOT TO MARRY THE GIRL WHAT HAD A CRUSH ON YOU!
YOU GO HINAKA. WIN THAT DORK OVER.
((Unfortunately, Toei can’t include her beyond a name drop. Miyuki Kanbe, who played Hinaka Tachibana, passed away in 2008. Incidentally, she was the third actress to play Sailor Moon in the stage musicals, which explains why her name looked familiar when I went to the page for Hinaka on the KR Wiki.))
Okay enough of the sappy stuff! Back to 9-to-5!
In the dark.
On Sougo’s birthday.
Which he has made exactly zero mention of himself.
you guys I really don’t think sougo cares about his birthday. I know they aren’t going to bring this up in someone elses tribute episode, but. The bus thing. Literally four days before his ninth birthday. Puts a damper on it. Just as a reminder. Woz whatever you’re planning may be a bad idea.
:sigh: FLASHY SPEECH TIME.
Geiz and Tsukuyomi are just. Used to this. I think they may have helped him write it. Even Geiz has this sort of. Fond resignation to his expression. ...That, or he’s getting a kick out of seeing Woz make a fool of himself. Could be both.
WHO LET WOZ PUT THE RIDEWATCHES ON THE CAKE.
THAT’S A TERRIBLE IDEA.
YOU CAN’T EVEN TRY TO TELL ME THEY’RE REPLICAS. THE OVERHEAD ZOOM OUT OF THE ROOM SHOWS THE TABLE WITH THE WATCH STAND. IT’S EMPTY. GUYS WHY.
Aaaaand then my heart broke a little inside.
Sougo’s toy robot, the one that could someday give rise to Rento, is next to the cake, holding up a little sign.
Junichiro: Uh, wait, hang on, you’ve been saying ‘overlord’… you mean ‘king’, right? Please?
Tsukuyomi: Yup! Sure! Just a slip of the tongue! You know how over dramatic Woz gets! (Please don’t dig any deeper!)
And yeah. Sougo completely forgot it was his birthday.
(So, rankings between Sougo, Shinnosuke, and Takeru… which of these riders handles their birthdays going forward the worst?)
(i’m kidding, i’m kidding.)
(mostly)
And then there were four.
Only four more watches to go.
Kiva, who’s coming up in the next arc. Okay, technically the current arc, since it’s Sunday now.
Drive, who might be the next one after that. After all, we did just get the Brain special – with five returning actors.
Kabuto, who… I know jack all about Kabuto, actually. I’ve managed cultural osmosis for parts of literally every one of the Phase One Heisei Riders except for Kabuto. I’ve never heard anything except about some sort of Grandma complex, and something about food. That’s literally all I’ve got.
Four… I guess they must not have gotten Den-O in the movie after all?
I’m planning on watching that, at least in raw form, tomorrow. So. Look forward to that!
As for the preview… I’m pretty sure that woman could kill a man.
And. Um. Are those AnotherVersions of the Fangires from Kiva? Or is that just what they looked like, and Toei brought the old suits back out? I mean, they’ve been kitbashing a lot of old suits together lately, so it could go either way.
Anyway! That’s 34 Episodes of Kamen Rider Zi-O, in the bag! In the archives? The Recap Vault? ... I don’t even know anymore. I’m getting a little out of it. It’s been a rough week. :waves:
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R:R(RR) theorypost: mind control and altered states
Some helpful discussions with @hussianphilosopher reminded me that while altered states of consciousness seem to be playing a big role in Rose: Remember [R^4] so far, I haven't thought very carefully outside the fic about how I think it should be treated and why. Working mind control out on the fly seems more perilous than working out various abstruse SBURB mechanics on the fly, since mind control goes right to the most central part of character's motivations and agency, and thus to reader's mental model of what they might and might not do.
So, maybe a good opportunity for me to take stock of where I am on all that before I get much farther. I am sure better theory minds than mine have thought about this, but it might be good to take a baseline of my own thoughts before reading too much elsewhere. The following addresses only stuff that has already happened in R^4 up to chapter 17, though some hints are provided for the next chapter.
There are a bunch of different possible altered states of consciousness and agency in Homestuck: cerulean-blood ("Scorpio") mind control, Crockertier mind control, chip implantation, grimdarkness, trickster mode, and more pedestrian abuse of alcohol, sopor, and Faygo. They are all distinct and seem to suit particular narrative purposes in the comic, though there are two recurring classes. States we would really call "mind control" are designed to compel characters to do things they don't want to do, though they may retain awareness of their own desires in these cases. Other altered states remove inhibitions and judgment, getting characters to do what they would want to do except that the consequences are awful. Some states may be a bit of both.
My take is that no character is totally immune to mind control or altered states, but that they may have various amounts of resistance that can be justified through various internal and external factors. This allows me freedom to possess characters in ways that suit the R^4 narrative, though I recognize that I pay in credibility for extreme interventions that are very out of character. I see resistance as being conferred either by physiology, Aspect powers, or emotional integration: characters that have more of their shit under control will have more unified intentionality and will be harder to control.
Grimdarkness
Grimdarkness is uniquely bound up with Rose's journey, psychological makeup, and affinity to eldritch things in general and the Horrorterrors in particular. It also seems to be more of an altered state than a form of direct mind control; Rose is corrupted only in subtle ways, at least until the final dramatic reveal.
HP pointed out to me out that in canon, Rose's ramp up to grimdarkness is a loooong arc, starting with her use of black magic to deconstruct LOLAR, continuing with her plans to scratch the session and blow up the Green Sun, up through her ill-fated conversation with Doc Scratch. She explicitly talks to Jade about wanting to go after Jack even before going grimdark, so that one could construe her actions while grimdark as natural extensions of what she explicitly decided to do anyway. There are questions about the extent to which she may have been subtly manipulated by the Horrorterrors, but at no point does she make decisions that are out of character for her. We see that her mannerisms in [S] Seer: Descend are definitely her own, even if she suffers from occult aphasia.
Nevertheless, while retaining agency and personality traits, Rose's intentionality and judgment have been warped: she has "gone completely off the deep end in every way." She engages with Jack in canon, and with HIC in R^4, knowing she'll likely die pointlessly. She's entered an irrational, reactive state which is basically a natural extension of the emotional, reactive arc she's been traveling throughout.
My take on grimdarkness is that having entered this state once, Rose may be susceptible to entering it again. In this view, grimdarkness is less about direct Horrorterror influence, and more a sort of fugue state induced by degradation of the will. That suggests that it can be induced through combinations of circumstances that Rose comments on explicitly in R^4. The long meteor trip strains her; I've identified her alcohol intake specifically with Void, the Horrorterrors' aspect, making her once again receptive to corrupting influence; and Gamzee's threat to Kanaya mirrors Jack's murder of Mom Lalonde that sends canon Rose off the deep end. I've also hinted that Gamzee applies Rage powers to goad Rose into doing something stupid, but he may not have counted on that triggering Rose in such an overpowered way. Since part of Gamzee is tied up in Doc Scratch, the source of the cue ball that sends Rose off the deep end, it makes some sense to me that grimdarkness owes something to Rage (resignation, despair, narrowing of options) as well as Void.
In retrospect, it’s the length of that arc and the foreshadowing of what might happen that gave grimdarkness much of its original dramatic impact. Re-using it here has its risks, even if there are justifications for it.
It also still makes sense to ask what the Horrorterrors would have to gain, since their influence seems to be critical to inducing the grimdark state. In canon, they may have tempted Rose to challenge Jack in order to save themselves from an overpowered enemy. What motivation would they have in R^4 to manipulate Rose into taking Aranea’s side against HIC? It's Jack, the "loose cannon", who’s taking out the Horrorterrors, not Lord English (for whom the "present equilibrium" accounts), right?
Scorpio Mind Control
Scorpio mind control, on the other hand, really does seem to be a direct override of the will, forcing trolls to do things they might not otherwise do or want to do. Vriska's pot shots at Karkat and Tavros in canon show how this works, and suggest that the victims become robots or zombies, even aware that they're doing things they don't want to do. Aranea takes it to the next level by mind-controlling entire armies of dead Aradiabots to channel Aries telekinesis in GAME OVER, in essentially transparent ways as if those powers were her own. The species divide suggests that the most these powers can do against humans, however, is to put them to sleep.
From an Aspect standpoint, Scorpio mind control is characteristic of Vriska, associated with the theft of Light (agency) from the victim. With god-tier mastery over Light, I imagined Rose would have higher resistance to Scorpio mind control than other humans, perhaps made woozy but able to remain conscious. I provided Kanaya with similar resistance, which I justified post facto by her position on the hemospectrum and her rainbow-drinker status. I viewed Aranea's use of Kanaya (and, in another timeline, of Rose) as hostages as opportunistic, not calculated; otherwise she might not have even tried to mind-control Kanaya in the first place. Of course, Aries telekinesis is a physical attack and so neither Rose nor Kanaya can avoid this.
In general, though, I think flat-out mind control powers are less interesting than powers of corruption or subversion, so I choose not to focus on them as much.
Grimbarkness / Crockertier Mind Control
Grimbarkness (Jade-style grimdarkness) and Crockertier mind control seem to have aspects of both grimdarkness and Scorpio (or Taurus) mind control. Jade and Jane seem to focus preferentially on their most painful or negative emotions in reference to their old friends, and their overall priorities are controlling and aggressive. This inverts their usual passive and accommodating natures dramatically, allowing them cathartic relief of pent-up negative emotions. The Condesce gives them a remarkable amount of agency, as appropriate for high-level lieutenants. But their goals and intentions are clearly no longer their own.
It's possible that these negative emotions are also part of what makes Jade and Jane game-mechanically susceptible to the Condesce's mind control. If they were emotionally fully unified or had Aspect powers (such as Light, Mind, or Heart) relating to agency and identity, they might have been able to subvert or even fully resist control. Note how Dirk resists tricksterization (see below), and how he's booted to the Furthest Ring, not mind-controlled by HIC.
Jade's and Jane's judgment also seems to be impaired by their aggressive tendencies; Karkat and Kanaya comment several times on how Jade is acting like a caricature of a villain, and how the execution of her duties suffers for it. This could be Jade passively sabotaging goals her subconscious knows are unjust and harmful to her friends; but at least at first, I took the way she throws herself into her grimbark duties at face value.
In the most recent R^4 installment, Jade shoots a ball of compressed glitchdust at the assembled players, with (surprise) what will turn out to be catastrophic results. This is meant to mirror Jane's forking of Jake in the canon GAME OVER timeline, but it's harsh enough that I'm now questioning whether that's something even Grimbark Jade would do. On consideration, I can't explain it as Jade trying to murder her ecto-grandpa in cold blood, but I think I can explain it as poor judgment -- not knowing the full effects of glitchdust, which will be revealed shortly. Seeing these effects might give Jade a shot at snapping out of renewed grimbarkness.
Alcohol and Faygo
Alcohol is famously abused by all the Lalondes. It seems natural in my mind to identify alcohol with the Void aspect, removing agency and clouding judgment. Rose goes so far as to explain in R^4 that her "special sauce" is imbued with Void essence, implying that she's been taking it specifically to suppress her Light powers on the meteor trip. My decision to include that as an enabling factor for grimdarkness was one taken on the fly, but which I'm willing to try to defend. It might also reduce Rose's Light-based resistance to Scorpio mind control, which makes her repulsion of Aranea somewhat suspect as written, but not impossible. In extreme cases, the visions associated with DT or hallucinosis might also be Void-tinged -- hiding the real world with phantoms conjured from nowhere.
Terezi’s abuse of Faygo hasn’t entered R^4 yet, but it could at a later date, so worth looking at! Karkat seems to view Faygo as just as damaging to Terezi’s functionality as alcohol is to Rose’s. While we could take that at face value, it makes me wonder within the R^4 AU whether Faygo could be seen as a suppressant for Mind Aspect powers, or construed as distilled Rage essence, in a manner analogous to the role of alcohol for Rose as distilled Void essence. If so, we could expect circumstantial parallels for Rose and Terezi in other R^4 timelines in which they both appear.
Sopor Slime
The use and abuse of sopor really hasn't entered into R^4, and is unlikely to because it's unique to Gamzee, at a point in the canon narrative well previous to GAME OVER. But what the hell, let’s keep riding this train and ask whether sopor slime might suppress Rage. This would be amusing in that high Gamzee would be undermining his true powers with sopor, and would then be dependent on Faygo to boost them during the adventure Even still, though, he’s feared long before Murderstuck (”did you see what he did to the Black King?”), so it isn’t clear whether the murderous rage of sober Gamzee is directly related to overembracing his role as a Bard of Rage.
Not all substance abuse has to be literally related to Aspect powers or inversion theory, but I find Aspect theory an interesting framework for viewing the narrative functions of these substances within the Homestuck universe, as sort of the Kryptonites of their respective Heroes.
Trickster Mode
Trickster Mode also seems to involve judgment and inhibitions going out the window, in addition to induced hyperactivity, with associated hangover afterwards. Unlike mind-control methods, it doesn't seem to be associated with any particular external influence on which actions are taken, only a tendency for them to be maximally useless, cringe-inducing, or cathartic. BKEW also has a nice piece where he suggests that trickster mode involves supercharging of Aspect powers, as we see from Jane's Life-driven transformation of LOCAH.
Just as I've suggested interactions between alcohol, grimdarkness, and Scorpio mind control, there may be as yet unexplored interactions between trickster mode and other, more malevolent forms of mind control. I shudder to think what damage a mind-controlled, god-tier trickster could do. Perhaps we'll find out soon.
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